#i lost my fucking frontal lobe.

[matsubrokq]

i love fma so fucking mych everytime i rewatch it i feel like swallowing a lit cigarette

[interiorlulus]

What a godawful birthday week.

[tojisbbygworl]

He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Based off of this post

Part 2 bonus bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)

"How are you even cooler under your mask?"

"I was this cool the whole time."

A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.

Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.

Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.

You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.

He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.

As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.

You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.

"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."

He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)

You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.

"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"

"And that's the bite of '83, right?"

"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"

He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."

This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.

He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.

He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.

"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."

He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"

"It's not true?"

He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."

"Oh really?"

He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.

"What's that look about?"

"Would you like someone to teach you?"

He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.

That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.

Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.

He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.

"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.

You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.

He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.

"You really want to have sex? With me?"

You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.

"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)

God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.

"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.

The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.

You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.

You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.

His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.

"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.

"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.

"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.

"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."

He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."

You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.

"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."

"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"

"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.

"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"

"I'm on the pill."

He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.

"You scared?" She asks.

He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."

You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."

"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."

"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"

Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.

"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."

Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)

Taglist is closed!

Masterlist

[lanadoeswriting]

STREAMER HCS

and he keeps of picture of you in his office downtown

pairings: charlie slimecicle x streamer!reader

tw: fluff, swearing

a/n: HELLO POOKIES, i am back everyone after my break! huge credits to @blvccl for this idea, check out his fic here! hope u guys enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

he can be found streaming at your setup, or the other way around when either of you are too lazy to go back to your own place to stream.

he appears in the background of like half of your streams. CLINGY MAN ALERT

and then proceeds to appear in your stream chats and is smiling down at his phone in the background.

if you have to go grab something he will just take your seat and begin waiting for you with the chat like an impatient child

"soo.... do we know any games, chat?"

masterminds a plan to scare you when you come back with the stream chat and then will hide near the door or underneath a blanket or some shit while telling the chat to act natural.

you guys are like 2 toddlers who have half of a frontal lobe.

and yes there WAS a lightsaber battle at some point.

you guys have had so many streams together obvi.

there was a baking stream you did together and at some point you both sat next to each other, staring off into space, in utter silence. and then you threw a cookie at him before getting it rebounded back at you.

and yes this was the highlight of the stream.

back to the impatient child fact, he once grabbed one of your stuffed animals and has held a grudge against it for no reason.

started threatening it (jokingly) while staring it down right as you came in.

"i swear to fucking god im going to-"

"charlie? what are you doing?"

he proceeds to throw it out of existence.

"nothing. it wasn't me."

in ANY smp you guys are in together, you are either enemies that cant stand each other or are the madly in love couple that are literally the definition of love.

he stays at your side at all times when at conventions like twitch con and stuff because otherwise he will just get lost in a sea of people and/or have another encounter with professer respect.

[tits-n-trix]

I think one of the worst things about being a server, in Italian restaurants specifically, is the lack of conviction people have.

My disdain for humanity didn't come from customers impulsiveness or their general ignorance of empathy. It was their fucking gall. Every time I brought the cheese grater to a table and some fucknut would say "oh I'll go all the way" can you guess how many of them went all the way? None of them.

This is not my cheese. I am here for you. If you want all of the cheese I have no problem giving it to you. But you jest, you think you're so funny. "No one's ready for the comical mountain of cheese I'm going to have on my plate" you think, a mental process that was probably so strenuous on the calcified gray matter of your frontal lobe your autonomic process had to take a pause.

But the second I start grating I smell fear on you. The emotion behind your eyes shifts. Reality takes you by the shoulders and you're sat amongst your peers, family, and friends as you're hit with all the world numbing shock of someone telling you you lost a loved one. Time slows and every second feels like a day.

You pathetic fool.

You insolent wretch.

With every crank, my disdain for you mounts because I know you won't make it to a mountain. You'll hardly broach a hill.

The shreds of cheese tumble out of the grater and lightly dust the top of your fucking buttered noodles. I'd call you a child but they're warriors compared to you.

Tension mounts and my back tightens while I'm leaning over you. You are mine. Do not forget who meters grace in this situation. My mercy is subject to the proprietors of the Italian Kitchen ™️. But I can withhold it should your folly displease me so greatly.

You chuckle, meekly, "heh, that's good."

Thank me.

"Thank you"

Do not come here again.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 10k

Warnings; degradation/praise, deep throating, eating out, edging

Author's note: Hope you don't mind but I made the reader both a swifitie and team Edward this chapter. I do appreciate all the love I've gotten for this fic. Here's part 3!

-

The general reaction you’ve received over the last two weeks was Are you out of your mind? 

While Bethany heard you out on how it happened and why it felt like a sigh of relief being with Eddie, your mom lost her damn mind. As you spoke to her, you did your best to have a civil conversation until it just ended up being her lecturing you over the speaker while you finished up cleaning the dishes.

When she realizes you haven’t responded in a while and asks if you're still there, you pick up the phone from the window ledge and unmute yourself. “Mom, seems like you’re not interested in what I have to say about this, only about how it looks. Until you’re ready to listen, I’ll let you go.” Your finger hits the red hang up button, noting the time to the call being 45 minutes. You told her the situation about five minutes in and ever since, she had spent her time venting about Eddie and how irresponsible you were, as if she hadn't listened to anything you had to say about it. 

“Are you sure you really thought this through?” Skyler, your roommate asks you as she brings her bowl over to you. 

You huff, grabbing it from her and soaking it in the hot soapy water. “Thought what through?”

“You and him. Long term.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “Who said anything about this being long term? What if it’s just for now?” 

“Is it just for now? Because you went into it with Dylan claiming all you wanted was someone to commit to you.” She pauses, and you look her in the eyes as if to say get on with it. “When you had someone fully committed, someone willing to stay in it for the long haul, you left him.” 

“I didn’t get scared of his commitment, Sky!” You exclaimed, a little thrown off by it. 

“Really? Because you were so eager to introduce him to literally anyone?” Skyler throws at you, and she had a point. Your hesitation in meeting Eddie had everything to do with the fact that Dylan was more committed to your relationship than you were.

You were literally every guy you had hooked up with before Dylan, getting angry that he would act like a boyfriend except for the life long stuff. 

Fuck. What a hypocrite you were. 

“Fine, his commitment scared me a bit.” You admit, washing one last dish before draining the sink. “But it’s not why I left him.”

“For his dad.”

You sigh, eyebrows raised at her tone. “Yes, for his dad.” 

“Have you considered that when you’re his age, he’ll be in his 60s?”

“So?” You ask her, moving to the couch in the living room. 

“That’s not a relationship built to last.”

“Why can’t that be up to us to decide?” You ask her, wrapping the throw blanket around you and tucking yourself into the couch. “Look, I get your concern. I truly do. From the outside, me and Dylan were doing everything right. Having adventures, going Instagram official. Then we were meeting the families, getting comfortable.” You pause, rubbing your hair out of your face. “If I was 19/20, I would completely understand. I mean, I wouldn’t, but if that were the scenario, your concern would make sense. But I’m not. I’m 25. My frontal lobe is fully developed. I know that if I get together with Eddie then he’ll always be 20 years older than me. He’ll always have a different perspective on life than I do.” 

“You’ll always be tied to Dylan.” She points out. 

“We dated for six weeks.” You counter, a pinch appearing between your brows. “While we haven’t discussed our long term goals, I don’t see this being casual. It’s different with him. Nothing feels off about being with him. I’ve never felt safer.”

She pauses, assessing your face and the way you relax as you start talking about Eddie. “Fuck. You’ve never seemed this relaxed when talking about Dylan. Not once.”

“I wasn’t.” 

-

The comfort of Eddie’s chest breathing in and out underneath you as you lie right on top of him on the living room couch was soothing as you watched Twilight together. It took some convincing, but he let you press play on it and smirked over your shoulder at the blue filter.

No one had ever told him that the soundtrack was so good, though. 

It was maybe a half hour into the movie, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why every guy in her school just had to have her. The smile on your face as you settled into a comfort movie was worth the watch, though. 

You had texted him a few days prior, Eddie having given you his number before dropping you off at your apartment to face the real world. He was due back at his shop, having to settle management bullshit and deal with an unhappy customer or two to settle their complaints over the new apprentice. Ownership was nice, when they knew how to do their job. 

When can I see you next? 

When the six words lit up his screen, Eddie wanted to tell you to drive on over to his shop. He wanted to get in his truck and drive over to wherever the hell you are so he could text back Right Now. He knew your words were calculated, something not to seem too desperate to see him next, but truth be told, even if you were desperate it wouldn’t have made any difference; he was already hooked on you. He texted back to tell you the following Saturday, a day he knew he had no plans for the following day, so you could spend the night. 

He felt fucking crazy for thinking it, but now that he'd had you in his bed, it felt too big without you. 

Now here you lay with him, he sat in the corner of his couch while you snuggle up to him, and he could stay like this for hours, the sweet shampoo in his nose and the sound of your breaths comforting. He feels you slowly relax into him, all your body losing its tension. Occasionally, your arm would tighten around his torso or you would dig into him deeper. He appreciates the feeling, rubbing his fingers delicately along your skin.

The front door opens, and he feels you tense up as Dylan makes his way in. “Oh, great.” He mutters, and turns around to head straight up the stairs. 

Your body jerks to watch him, and your eyes catch Eddie’s for a moment. “I’ll be right back.” 

Eddie nods, seeing the fixed line your mouth made. He leans in to kiss you, an act of care more than anything else. You lean into it, your eyes closing automatically, breath hitching. “I’ll be here.”

-

The length up the stairs seemed to grow as you reached the top, this act something you have been dreading for days. Having told Bethany and Skyler about Eddie, they both felt bad for Dylan. In fact, your shitty attempt at an apology was met with a smack on the head with a nearby scrap paper by Sky. You knew Dylan deserved better. Fuck, did you know that. 

Here you stand in front of his door, sounds of a tv show on in the background while he presumably plays on his computer. Dylan was more the type to create joy out of finding a new favourite hiking trail or to take an archery class, but Eddie has said he’s been cooped up in his room. He goes to work, comes home and says barely two words before retreating upstairs. 

Not like you blamed him for it. 

Before you could hesitate any longer, you finally knock on his door. The sounds of his keys stop, and you barely hear the footsteps towards the door over your own heartbeat. The door opens to Dylan, and the disappointment when he sees you is evident, his face hardening. “What?”

“Can I come in?”

He seems to think on this, and you hope the outfit you have chosen, jeans with an oversized sweatshirt and your hair in a messy bun helps with the psychology of it, but when it came down to it, it was his decision. “…Sure.” You light up in surprise, having expected to do the apologizing in his door frame. You follow him in, and it’s an awkward moment of silence before he goes to sit in his desk chair. “Have a seat, I guess.” 

Your butt hits the edge of the bed, barely scraping the box spring. “Would it be cheesy if I recommended you listened to Speak Now, track 3?”

His eyebrows furrow, and it’s so like you to recommend a fucking Taylor song for the scenario. He has to laugh. “Taylor’s Version?”

“Of course.”

“Which is…?”

“Back To December.”

He tilts his head, this situation incredibly peculiar. “Remind me how that goes?”

A smile reaches your face, and you look at your lap sheepishly. 

“She apologizes…and clearly admits she was in the wrong after a person treats her very well and didn’t deserve it.” You pause, looking up at him.

“A little bit.” He admits, but the first wall is down. The look in his eye when he sees you doesn’t scream rage. 

“I can’t express how sorry I am for hurting you the way I did.” You start, watching for his reaction. “First, for stringing you along… But, you were the best looking guy at that mixer, and at that moment in time I truly did want to know you. None of that was fake.” He nods, considering this. “Then it started to feel, I don’t know, comfortable. I had people telling me how lucky I was to have you, daily, and with the men out there, god they were so right.” You gulp, and he can’t seem to look you in the eye. “I felt like there must’ve been something wrong with me not to be head over heels for you, cause there wasn’t anything wrong with you.”

“When did you know you wanted to break up with me?” 

“I can’t say for sure.” You tell him, and it was probably about two weeks ago, but that felt cruel. “But the moment we got back into your car I should’ve ended things.”

“You knew about him that fast, huh?” He asks you, his eyes appearing glossy. “You know, if you would’ve been honest I would have been absolutely choked, confused even, but I would have given you his number.”

You nod, because of fucking course Dylan would’ve been nice enough. “See, you’re so kind because that never occurred to me. I thought you would’ve dropped me off at home.”

“Probably.” Dylan admits, thinking about the possibilities if you’d broken up with him earlier. “Maybe not.”

“I’m so sorry for cheating on you, though. Of course, knowing your mom’s history shouldn’t have made a difference but—”

“Yeah. Kind of fucked me up.” Dylan leans back in his chair, and a smile reaches his face as he looks back to you. 

“I know that if me and Eddie keep dating that I could never, ever even remotely be a parental figure, and frankly I’m not looking to be your mom, but I hope one day you can trust me again.”

“See, how do I know you won’t do the same thing to him?”

It hurt, but it was fair. “You made me feel safe. But your dad—” he cringes, “Eddie, he makes me feel free.” 

Dylan turns around in his chair, considering this. “I believe that.”

“Wait, you do?”

“Yeah. When I walked in today sure, I was annoyed. Seeing my ex girlfriend in a new happy relationship with the person she cheated on me with is kind of annoying. But you were never that comfortable with me. That look of…contentment. I’ve never seen it before.” He sighs, doing another turn in his chair. 

“Have you and your dad spoken about it?”

“No. I’m pretty fucking mad at him. I’ll forgive him, one day. If you’re sticking around, I'll have to, because I’m not staying with my mom and her new perfect family. But we dated for six weeks. I was only starting to think I was falling in love with you. Thank god I never got there. Even then.”

“Don’t put all the blame on him.” You jump to his defense, and wow, did this sound bad. “I made the first move.”

“Good to know.” He pauses. “That’s all I want to know, for the record. No more details… I've heard enough.”

“I am sorry, though Dylan. In another universe, we date and I let you down properly and you meet your dad’s girlfriend a few weeks later who turns out to be your ex.” You laugh, just picturing it. 

“Sounds like a rom com.” 

“Honestly it’s an intriguing concept.” You get up from his bed, the conversation having met its end. 

“I can’t forgive you, yet. But that was the fucking apology I deserved the first time.”

You cringe at it, this memory is something you can already see haunting you at 3am.

“Can we pretend like that one never happened?”

“No. It’s great material to have in a back pocket. Who apologizes to their ex with brand new hickeys on their neck?"

“Okay, point taken!” You yell at him as you walk out the door. 

“Bye.” He calls out, and the door shuts behind you. 

-

You meet Eddie back at the couch, the movie paused while he scrolls through his phone. “What are you scrolling on?” You tease him, sitting easily back where you were before.

“Oh the uh, Facebook videos.” He says off-handedly, and you roll your eyes. “What?”

“Who uses Facebook nowadays?” You joke, knowing full you still updated yours occasionally.

He chuckles, nipping at your shoulder. You grab the remote by his leg, pressing play. “How did it go?”

“Better.” You sigh, watching Bella awkwardly ask him to hang out at the beach. “Much, much better. Doesn’t scream pure hatred in his face every time he looks at me anymore.”

“Makes one of us.” Eddie jokes, and you grab his hand to place a kiss, comforting him. 

The movie continues, and Eddie has never fully paid attention to the movie before, having come out in his late 20s. It was ridiculous, to say the least. The plot thickens as Bella discovers his true nature and Eddie can't help but notice a particular smile creep on your face as Edward mutters something about a lion falling in love with a lamb. Creepy. 

“Do-do you have a crush on Edward?” He asks, his voice particularly bewildered. 

Your eyes bug out, and you bite back the smile breaking out on your face with much failure.

“What? No.”

“Oh, you totally do.” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Shut up.”

Another five minutes pass and your stomach rumbles, prompting Eddie to get up and walk to the kitchen to make you something. “Want something with chicken, rice, spice, what do you want, baby?” He calls out, and you now stare openly at the tv as the baseball scene is showing, and you’ve always considered Edward just to be a bit extra hot in this scene. 

His question takes a moment to register. “Butter chicken?” You ask him. 

He peeks his head out to the music on the screen, and immediately sees the look on your face. A big smile is plastered on your face, chin resting on your fingertips as you sit cross legged. Fucking. Teenage Vampires. He rolls his eyes, rejecting the jealousy. He isn't going to be jealous over this. Nope.

He finishes the food, putting a bowl out for you, Dylan, and himself out. “Dylan! Food if you want it!” He calls out, and he brings two of the bowls for you and him, the smell of his cooking more than welcome. “Here baby.” He kisses your forehead, sitting next to you as you take a big inhale. 

“Holy shit, thank you, Ed.” You tell him, and Eddie is perplexed at your ability to forget to eat a single thing until the hunger pains kick in. He supposes his food habits at 25 weren’t the greatest, either. Now that he thinks about it, he pretty much lived off energy drinks, coffee, and the occasional hot food Wayne would force down his throat.

You inhale the food, the empty bowl on the coffee table within minutes. “Want more?” You’re hypnotized by the screen, having barely heard him. Why did he want to fight a seventeen-year-old vampire? “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Want more?”

“Oh sure! Thank you.” The shine in your eyes brightens up as you look up at him, and it settles his jealousy. For the most part. 

Eddie scoops himself and you another bowl, seeing Dylan hasn’t grabbed his yet. “Dylan! Food’s getting cold! Come eat!” 

Dylan comes out, actually looking like he was in a better mood than he was before.

“Oh, shit, Twilight?” He comments, shaking his head. “She’s a hard Team Edward girl. Hard.” 

“I’ve noticed. Here.” Eddie would’ve usually taken the win from his son joking with him but the jealousy that sat eating his gut was so fucking annoying. Why the fuck was he so annoyed at this stupid vampire?

“Oh it's not so fun now, is it?” Dylan calls out, running back up the stairs. 

This makes Eddie smile, like things might go back to normal. The screaming match with him after you had left made him believe he truly severed his relationship with him, but this gave him an inch of hope. 

Eddie gives you the second serving and you tear through it again, leaving the bowl in front of you empty. As Eddie finishes his own, he starts to lean into you, placing delicate kisses on the little exposed skin you provided for him today. He moves you so you’re lying on top of him.

The movie is about to end, Bella waking up in a hospital with frankly, an off-putting delivery of the lines she was given. His hands make their way up past the hem of your sweater, reaching to touch some skin as he continues. A pinch makes its way in between your eyebrows down at him. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to touch you.” You don't believe him, but you also don't mind the touches, as they were certainly doing their job as far as foreplay goes, so you lean back into him. Just when Eddie thought the end was near there’s a whole-ass prom scene and he nearly groans in frustration. Your legs intertwine with his, and he gets a sneaky idea, peering over your shoulder to move his leg over the teensiest bit. 

He moves his leg as if he was lifting one leg to rest on its foot. He moves it a bit faster than necessary, aiming for where your ass sat lower than normal on his body. 

As his knee jerks into your cunt, you gasp, a heat having already gathered from the movie alone, his teasing doing nothing to help. 

“Shit, sorry baby. Was just trying to move my leg.” One look at his face tells you it was a bold-faced lie and you give him an exasperated look. “What?” A series of shots that didn’t make the movie at the end show and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Prick.” He mutters under his breath to an image of Edward on the screen. 

“What was that?” You ask him, unsure you even heard him right. “Eddie, were you jealous?” You ask incredulously, the very idea of it is just bizarre. 

“What? No!” Eddie dismisses it far too quickly, but the satisfaction as he turns the tv off is too much to deny. 

“Eddie! He’s a fictional character. You do realize you share the same name, right?” Eddie rolls his eyes, slightly ticked off he let himself get caught being jealous. You crawl up to his face, the knee against your cunt having left a throb of more want. “Besides, there’s nothing to be jealous of.” You lean in to kiss him, still lying on top of him. As you tilt your head to deepen it, Eddie feels weak as your tongue meets his own and the way you’re gasping into his open mouth is filthy. “Nothing.” You emphasize, biting on his bottom lip. 

Eddie bites back a moan, his eyes rolling back as your teeth linger. You frame his face, kissing along the path of his stubble, his gorgeous jaw line, his freckled neck, the dip of his collarbone. 

You pause, taking a quick pause to suck on the collarbone lightly, biting into it to make one little claim of your own. You sit back on it, admiring the way it's already started to bruise. You continue, your hand absentmindedly moving his shirt up his torso so you could kiss your way down. You lick across a nipple, and his chest stunts in response. Down his torso you go until you meet the treasure of all treasure trails. You pause, inhaling at the scent, and the musk intoxicates you so much that you can’t help yourself, licking at it. Fuck. 

Finally, you get to his jean waistband, and you tug twice, making sure it's okay. Eddie moves to unbutton it for you, and you swat him away. “I wanna do it.” You tell him, picking up where he left off. You tug the jeans off, your fingers hooked meticulously so his boxers come off with them. 

His cock springs free and you look up to his face. By now Eddie has lost all clear thought, and he’s sure it started the moment you started working on his collarbone. Somehow it just got better and better as you went further down, every touch of your tongue against his skin sending fucking waves through him. But the look of…elation that you give him as you free his cock, like you couldn’t believe you get to be so lucky to suck on it, had him in pure ecstasy. 

You leaned in to take a long swipe on it, a slow lick from the base to the tip, and his cock is nearly down your throat before he could even register it. Relentlessly, you bob your head, fist gripping what you can't fit. You hear him swear loudly, and you let go with a popping sound. His hand finds its way to your face, framing it. You peer up at him, and his half opened eyes and a disbelieving smile gives you an unmatched sense of pride. 

“Holy shit.” He mutters, his thumb crossing your bottom lip slowly. 

You smile, lifting his hand from your face and into your hair, curling your fist over his so he would grip it tightly. You go back to work, mouth watering as you continue to bob up and down. Eddie slowly starts pushing on your head, forcing you to take a little bit more of him at a time. Your gag reflex fights it, and he can feel it. 

“Relax your throat baby.” He whispers. “Just relax it.” You think about it, letting the tense muscles of your jaw and attempting to swallow the spit to soften. He can feel a shift, his cock still in the heat of your mouth. “Oh, good girl.” 

He thrusts his hips up, and his cock finds itself down your throat, a feat you’ve never been able to accomplish before. The base of his cock meets your nose, and he stops, watching you adjust as tears come to your eyes from the stinging. “Holy shit, good fucking girl.” He mumbles, sweeping his hand through your hair. “So good.”

He pulls on your scalp so you move up and back down a few times, and you find it impossibly easy to submit yourself to him, allowing him to fuck your throat.

Eddie guides you off his cock, you look up at him for his appraisal and he frames your face to wonder how he was so lucky as he looks at your cocked-out eyes. “Oh, what a good little slut.” He mutters, pulling you up to his face. 

You crawl up eagerly, and he kisses you gently, not chaste, but not quite as dirty as before. He breaks away, still connecting your foreheads. “Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

You nod readily; lust filled eyes staring back into his. You wait patiently for him to put his jeans back over on his cock and make your way back up the stairs to his room. 

As soon as his door is shut Eddie rids himself of his clothes, and you end up watching from his bed eagerly, enjoying the show. He dives onto the bed, and a squeal of giggles involuntarily leaves your throat at the wild eyes captivating his face. He dives down to kiss you, his tongue delicious against your own and he sucks on it, luring a whimper right out of you. One of his hands rubs against your thigh, and this pair of pants wasn’t something he could feel you up through. Eddie’s thumb messaged extra rough, and the touch alone manages more whimpers. 

“Touch me.” You choke out, breathing heavily, breathing him. “Please.”

Eddie grins, both his hands working down to unbutton the tight jeans you wore. A hand slips in and starts to tease along the slick of your folds and your breath hitches as Eddie focuses on making you feel good. He rubs them in small circles, the touch light but enough to give you release. You can tell he isn't necessarily driving you towards an orgasm and it drives a laugh of impatience out of you against his lips. 

“Baby” You whine, “Fuck.” You couldn’t even put words to it, because somehow you knew he’d find a way to twist it. 

Eddie leans into your neck, the heat of his cruel laughter closing your eyes. “Oh, you wanted me to touch you and get off? Well why didn’t you say so?” 

The pressure increases, a defined difference in his touch as he rubs against your clit, and the sounds he draws from you was worth the tease. He hikes your oversized sweater up, revealing skin and your bra, and as his fingers move absentmindedly he kisses your stomach with light tongue, the wet warmth sending shivers up your body as the feeling in your tummy starts to pool. 

He sits up suddenly, and you whimper from the loss. He chuckles at this, pride in how pathetic he can make you feel. “Aww, poor baby.” He mocks you, and your eyebrows furrow in slight embarrassment. “It’s okay, I know you just wanna cum…gonna get you to cum all over my face.” His hands tug on your jeans, and he barely needs any help from you to yank them off, unceremoniously throwing them onto the floor. “Oh, fuck, finally.” He mutters as he sees your pussy, prettier than he remembered when he jacked himself off in the shower this morning. 

He leans in, sucking on your clit and the heat expands from it into your legs and the feeling in your stomach doubles. From no release to every bit, you could already feel the knot threatening to snap. “Holy shit, fuck.” You mutter, your thighs clamping against him. 

He feels the intensity in your body shift, continuing to suck on your clit rhythmically. Your breathing increases, and Eddie slowly sucks harder, and harder, and as your heels dig in his upper back, he stops. 

An audible whine leaves you, the edge just right there. “Fuck, Ed.” You whimper, somehow knowing it was on purpose. 

He chuckles, watching your beautiful cunt react as well. “I know, baby, I know.” 

“I was so close.” 

“Imagine how good it’ll feel when you do cum, yeah?” He teases, still watching your face. Your leg muscles spasm and the kisses he trails down your thigh are no help. 

You whine again, toes curling and the extra fabric of your sweater self consciously curls up around your fists. “Ed.”

“I know.” He says one last time, and goes in for the kill. 

There was really no delay this time, the edge was only a step away and he pushed you over, his fingers fucking into you and tongue working over time on your clit, a heat into an explosion as your legs shake and pussy spasms. Eddie pays close attention to it, admiring the glisten of your slick coating you, dripping to your ass and on his sheets and it's a piece of art. 

Eddie kisses one last time against your clit, crawling back up to you to assess. “Sweetheart?”

You smile lazily at him, the orgasm having left a smile on your face and a glow amongst your features. “Hmm?”

“Wanna fuck still?” He asks, his hand petting your face softly. 

Your eyes fucking light up, nodding enthusiastically. He chuckles, moving the sweater slowly up and over your head. He moves around your torso, single handedly unhooking your bra, revealing those gorgeous tits. 

He looks like heaven above you, a shadow of stubble, brown eyes darkened as he takes you in, and the lust in his eyes sends a pool of wetness between your legs. Your legs open, and he sits himself between them, kissing the nearest skin he can as he puts his cock into you. 

Your legs close on the feeling, mouth falling open in a silent moan. God, what a sight. 

You sleepily look up at him as he puts his chest on yours, just drinking in the moment of him in you. He does the same, your hands framing his face.

He kisses you, slow and sweet. “So, so, good, Ed.” You manage out between them, sighing up at him. 

He moves back a bit, thrusting into you lightly and you whimper into his mouth. He separates himself to get a good look as he continually fucks into you, and your mouth is open in unspoken words. Too fucking good. 

“I know baby, I know.” He tells you. He kisses your neck, down your throat and down to a tit bouncing lightly from the impact of his cock fucking into you. He latches his tongue onto the nipple, your pussy tightening around him in response. He grazes his teeth lightly, mewls leaving your throat at the sheer pleasure mixed with pain and he lets go. 

He leans up from you, taking one of your legs and placing it against his shoulder up towards the ceiling and you can feel him deeper, his thrusts starting to hit harder. Your moans are interrupted by each thrust. “Ed. So. Good. Fuck.”

His hand gently caresses your leg on his shoulder, focusing on the warmth of your pussy engulfing him. “Oh, tight pussy. So fuckable.” 

“Yours.” You whine out. 

“Oh, that’s right. My pussy.”

“All yours.” You choke out. 

“Oh that’s fuckin right. You’re mine. All mine. My good fuckable slut.”

The words hit the right spot, making your eyes roll back. “Fuck, Ed. Cum in me.”

“Yeah, wanna be filled with me?"

“Mmhmm…” 

“Oh fuck.” Eddie reaches his high faster than he was expecting, his hips jerking into you and the feeling of his cock pulsating while it spurts inside you is everything. 

Eddie pants, lightly pushing your leg off his chest. He leans forward to give you a kiss, his body covered in sweat, the slick smell being something you need to memorize. “Holy shit, sweetheart."

You giggle, your legs holding him there. “Stay a while?”

“Love to cockwarm, huh, baby?” 

“Only with you,” You mutter, a yawn leaving you. And if it was anything like the first time, you’ll be asleep within minutes. “So full.” 

He chuckles, turning on the tv next to his bed. He tugs the blanket out from under you and pulls it over the two of you. You snuggle into his arms as he wraps them around you. “You know, we can cuddle without—” Eddie starts.

“No, no. That’s crazy talk.” You interrupt him, and he feels a smile up against his chest.

As you fall asleep, you hear one last thing from him, something you don’t think you were supposed to hear. “Beat that, you sparkly fucker.”

Somehow, the power of making Eddie jealous over a fictional vampire didn’t go straight to your head, but goddamn it felt good to be this wanted. 

-

The tickle of the sheet against your abdomen comes to mind as you wake up on your side, calf in between Eddie’s legs and your face buried in his chest. His snoring is gentle but deep, his arm lazily wrapped around you. You figure he eventually got himself out of you, the subtle loss something you probably whined at. 

You feel a smile creep its way onto your face, the satisfaction of waking up how you did fills your lungs with air. You peer your head back to get a look at his face, relaxed and unguarded, even from sex. Your eyes take in every detail of his handsome face, the slight hook of his nose, the stray hairs by his left eyebrow, the freckles scattered… God, he is beautiful. 

You lean in to kiss his jawline, nuzzling your nose into the scratch of his stubble. The arm around your torso flexes, a snore interrupted. A huff of laughter escapes you, the simplicity of it just so mesmerizing. He shifts slightly, arm tightening around you as he adjusts himself. You cuddle yourself closer into his chest, inhaling the scent that was unmistakably him. No cologne, deodorant or aftershave disguising it. The smell alone makes you shudder in happiness. 

You lay breathing him in for another thirty minutes before he finally stirs awake.

When he finally does, eyes squinting around as he blinks awake, arms flexing away as he yawns and stretches, you lay there patiently as he gets his bearings.

“Fuck.” His arms go limp, and he buries himself into your hair, breathing in the scent. “How long—” he yawns, cutting himself off. “How long have you been awake?”

Your shoulders shrug, and he huffs out a breath of laughter. He feels your stomach grumble against his. “Long enough, huh.” He kisses into your hair, giving you one last good squeeze. “Alright, let’s go get some food.”

You protest getting out of bed with him but the second growl your stomach makes, this one even more audible, has Eddie give a look to say it wasn’t debatable. Food first.

Down the stairs, you sit in a pair of shorts with the same over sized sweater at the kitchen island, chewing happily on the food Eddie prepared for you, a fucking snack tray. He put it in front of you, and you look up at him with an eyebrow raised peculiarly. “I fucking love snacks.” He says, grabbing a slice of cheese off your tray.

Dylan jogs into the kitchen, stealing a cracker off your plate as he dashes around the counter. “Going out with friends, be back later.” He looks dressed up for a bar, an outfit you knew he would wear to impress. It's a weird thought that you know him like this. 

“Don’t be stupid, don’t drink and drive.” Eddie tells him, leaning forward on the island. 

“Got it!” 

“Was that good or bad, I couldn’t tell.” You ask him when the front door closes. 

“I wouldn’t go towards either. He’s being civil for the sake of you but he’s much more pissed when you’re not here. Trust me.” Eddie answers you, eyes wide at the end of the sentence.

A pang of guilt hits you square in the chest. He sees your expression falter, giving you a soft look. “Don’t feel guilty. I deserve it. He damn well has a right to act this way when I betrayed him.”

Fuck, that was a level of emotional maturity you weren’t used to seeing in men. Threw you for a loop. 

“So, sweetheart. I got a question for you.” You perk up, leaning towards him at the opposite end of the island counter. “Will you allow me to take you out on a proper date?”

The sentence drives your heart wild, your stomach turning itself inside out. You nod your head rapidly, gulping. “When?”

“Well it’s four o’clock now…if I drive you home so you can get ready we could probably make our 7 o’clock reservation.”

-

Now you find yourself in your bathroom, your makeup scattered across the counter as you dance to an upbeat playlist, your quick glance to the clock indicating you still have an hour before he comes to pick you up at 6:45. 

You're driving yourself mad with the want to outdo yourself, you want a visual reaction from this man. He was kind enough to let you know it was more upscale, but that was all the detail he was willing to provide to you. You knew your initial reaction to wear something to rile him up wasn’t any good, and the warning he had given you had driven you to believe he knew you well enough to know you would if he hadn’t.

You hear the front door of the apartment close, Skyler getting home from day working at a cellphone carrier store. She hated the dumb customers but loved the commission she made when she sold plans. She places her things down, making her way straight to the bathroom to where the blaring music could be heard. “Going out somewhere?” She asks, slightly yelling to be heard over the music. 

You reach to the Bluetooth speaker, turning down the volume a few notches. “Hot date with Eddie!” You tell her excitedly, leaning in to finish the last of the eyeliner. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you had one planned!”

“Neither did I! He told me about the reservation just like an hour ago after he dropped me off.”

“Just like that?” She asks, leaning in. 

You pause the movement of your brush on your face, using some setting powder for a final touch. “Just like that.” 

Her eyebrows raised to her forehead quickly. “Okay, damn. That’s…that’s romantic.”

A smile lands on your face, and you close it to prevent the wider smile making its way to prevent teasing. “Mmmhmm.” 

Face setting spray finishes your face before you run to your room to do the most daunting thing about getting ready…picking out your outfit. 

It has to be something your ex hasn't taken off you either. There goes that hot blue little dress, and this green strappy number, and that really cute skirt…damn this might be harder than you thought. You used a lot of secret weapons from your arsenal with Dylan. 

“I’m out of clothes!” You yell to your roommate, frustrated out of your mind. 

“You still haven’t used that pretty dress you bought last month…the one still with a tag on it?” She calls out, referring to a dress you found that fit you perfectly but didn’t have anything to wear it for.

“That one is for special occasions!”

“Bitch, your boyfriend made spontaneous dinner date plans for your first date. It’s a special occasion, wear the damn dress!”

As it cascades down your body as you place it over your head, it couldn’t have been more perfect. 

-

Sitting in your living room while waiting to be picked up should not be this jittery, butterflies doing a little dancey-dance in your stomach as Skyler absentmindedly binge-watches Buffy. You sent Eddie your address at his request about ten minutes ago, and now it's just a waiting game. 

Three knocks at the door find you standing in a second, tripping over your own feet to get to the door. You open it to him, standing there with a single red rose. He's dressed in a gorgeous leather outdoor jacket, one only a man as fine as he is could pull off as well as he does and still make it look classy. He wears a pair of slacks with a dark red button down tucked loosely into it, the first three buttons undone. 

Something tells you he’ll be moving his sleeves up his arms later. Fuck. He has never looked hotter. 

“Hi, gorgeous. Ready?”

You nodded frantically, picking the open jacket up from the coatrack you had placed conveniently by the door. You turn back to face to your roommate to tell her not to wait up and face her, her mouth wide open. “I see it now.” She whispers, her jaw dropping again. 

Your eyebrows raise to her in response but a glare reaches as your face as you turn around, something in you stupidly angry about this. Good. Look from afar. 

-

The drive down is filled to the brim with unbridled anticipation, neither one saying much as you watch the pretty lights pass by on the way to the unspecified restaurant. 

He places his hand on your thigh, thumb caressing it gently. Your dress is just long enough for his pinky to touch your leg but the rest lay on the soft material. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” He compliments you, and you suddenly realize he’s barely watching the road. 

“Hmm.” You answer, nodding at the road. “My heart stopped when I opened the door, you are unfairly handsome.”

“Unfairly?” Eddie asks, voice incredulous at your word choice. 

“Mmhmm.” 

He chuckles, suddenly making a left turn into a group of scattered restaurants and your breath hitches, wondering, no. 

Holy fuck, it is. 

He pulls up and you’re peering up at what is known as the most expensive restaurant in town, the kind of place you only went with when your parents were celebrating an anniversary or something and were paying.

The kind of place that had good ass food, but you need to be able to pay minimum, 100 per person. The wine is automatically served, and the only music is a light piano melody. “Wanted to take you out for a treat. Somewhere I know damn well men your age can’t afford.”

That sentence alone drenches the lacy panties you wore. 

He walks to your side after getting out, opening the door for you. The act isn’t much, something a man or two has done before him, but from him, it was like a goddamn touch of Midas. 

The low light and piano music engulfs you, the conversation low as you see everyone is dressed in their best. You find yourself intimidated but Eddie walks in like he belongs. 

Cause he does. 

He asks for a reservation under his last name, and the waitress finds it right away. You can’t help but notice the way her eyes light up and damn, you usually don’t describe yourself as the jealous type but when it comes to him it's hard not to be. 

As you get to your booth, Eddie takes off his jacket, revealing his sleeves up to his elbows, and it’s literally mouth watering. He does it so swiftly, and before you can even sit, he holds his hand out for your jacket as well. You take it off to hand it over, which he hangs ever so gently over his jacket on the hook. 

Your hostess asks for drinks, Eddie asks for the drink menu and some water, you ask for water as well, hoping to find a suitable cocktail when the menu comes along. 

The low lighting is flattering on him sitting across from you, and all his attention is on you, even as his eyes roam the menu. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you finally ask Eddie for his story, something even through the lust you’ve had a desire to know. 

He describes growing up in Hawkins, Indiana, a rebel without a cause with a touch for the dramatics and running a role play DnD group. He describes his struggles as he failed grade twelve twice due to a large population chalking it up to laziness when in reality no one listened to his inability to sit down long enough to learn anything. He tells you about this group of friends he made in his final and successful attempt at grade 12, the ones that eventually kicked his ass into gear and none of them he would’ve been here without, and though they were all older like him, you hoped one day you’d be lucky enough to meet them face-to-face. 

His attempt at college, realizing it wasn’t for him and dropping out a semester in when a local mechanic he knew offered an apprenticeship spot at his garage.

2 years into it, he finds out he enjoys it and he made enough money to move out. At 22 he meets a woman who comes into his shop with a check engine light on, and that was how he met Dylan's mom. You fought so hard not to roll your eyes as he described building a life with her and finding out she was pregnant, but it was hard not to be jealous. 

Apparently she was the perfect mom from the outside, her connection to her son was unbeatable. Eddie soon found out she was having an affair with one of her co-workers, the same one she had told him time and time again that, no, of course he didn’t have a crush on her, that’s silly. 

(They were fucking the whole time.)

If anything, it was the reason he had let Dylan find out so quickly. An affair would’ve made it ten times worse. 

He finishes off, describing how difficult it was to raise him after she ran off with the co-worker, eventually finding something that worked for them. All in all, he was proud of the person he had raised Dylan to become, hopeful for their relationship. 

You hung onto every word he told you through that meal like he had hung the moon and the stars. As he finishes, wiping his hands on his napkin as he ate, your eyes fixated on his forearms flexing, he apologizes, claiming he felt bad for talking the whole time.

“Oh, I could listen to you for hours.” It falls out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Well I’m sick of myself. Tell me about you.” He comments, so you did. 

You tell him about being raised in the small town in rural America, being a teenager in the 2010s a slight difference than in the late 90s. Your stupid first boyfriend who dumped you as soon as he slept with you, your mom who meant well but often valued the opinions of others over her daughters needs and wants, your stoner of a best friend who had an opinion that you valued most of all, and how you met your current roommate through a facebook ad but it turned out you really clicked. 

Your story had no beginning and no end, just going off your life based on what you felt like you had wanted to tell him. 

“Dylan is a good boyfriend, by the way.” Eddie laughed at the absurdity of your sentence, all plates in front of you containing any food long gone while you had your third cocktail and Eddie drank some whiskey. Were you a bit tipsy? Yes. That sentence couldn’t have left your mouth without it. “After the lack of commitment on a stupid amount of dudes, his willingness to go all in, as we said that’s what we had both wanted, was exceedingly refreshing.” You took another gulp of it, the sugary drink hitting nicely. “He was stable, kind, thoughtful, but something was missing. In him I felt safety.” You pause, looking at him. “In you, I feel freedom.” 

The conversation moved away from Dylan, thank God. As he asks for one more before the bill you can't help yourself. “Where do you see this going?” You gulp, scratching your nose, and paying close attention to your glass. “If you say anything other than long term, I might be sick.”

To Eddie, your level of honesty was refreshing. “Baby, anything but long-term has never been an option to me.”

Eddie gives his credit card to the waitress, a moon eyed girl who he had barely paid attention to. Either because he was being courteous with his attention or he just didn’t bother when you were right in front of him, it didn’t matter, but the thing itself gave you immense satisfaction. (It was the latter, for the record. Eddie had barely noticed her.)

As he helped you back into your jacket, slipping on his own, a feeling of intense satisfaction, pure bliss invaded your entire system. There was no first date that would ever be as good as this one. The set up, picking you up, the nice ass restaurant, the easy conversation, and lastly, the knowledge that when you got to his, he would be all over you, and you him. 

Nothing was ever gonna be this good. 

Good. You didn’t want anyone or anything but him. 

-

Your head found his shoulder on the way back to his place, hands intertwined on your lap on the silent ride home, soft rock playing on his radio. As his truck reaches his driveway, you notice it's empty. Eddie picked up on this as your head perks up upon the observation. 

“Asked if he could crash at a friend’s place tonight.” Eddie explains, having placed the truck in park, sitting back in his seat. “We got the place to ourselves.” 

You grinned giddily, and you weren’t sure if it was the three and a half drinks or the troublesome feeling of your lacy panties being thoroughly soaked, but you were out his truck door before he could even register it. He climbs out, quickly shuffling behind you and he makes a giggle pour out of you as he scares you as you wait patiently at the door for him to unlock it. 

He kisses your neck as he reaches in with one hand to unlock the door, and you open it and turn to him, yanking on the collar of his leather jacket. “Need you.” You mutter in between kisses, only in the entrance of the house but if you took another step without kissing him, you were gonna lose your mind. “Want. You.” 

Your need is outrageously attractive, Eddie leaning into every kiss you've given him with the same amount of fervor, his hands holding your waist and fisting at the deliciously beautiful dress you had worn. You just had this dress? Waiting around? And you hadn’t blessed anyone with the perfect sight that was you dressed in it until now? What a goddamn sin.

It’ll be a shame when it hits the floor but this dress is only second to how goddamn good you looked naked as far as Eddie's concerned. Speaking of which…

Eddie continually kisses you, pulling you in against him, your breath hitches pulling your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. He backs you up to the stairs, and your foot hits the first step up, and as you’re starting to climb backwards Eddie pushes his body on yours, forcing you to sit. He takes it a step further by leaning in to kiss your neck, and your back falls onto the steps as well, just like he was hoping. Your legs open, welcoming his hips into yours. 

Eddie only starts with soft kisses, just to smell your perfume and to feel your skin beneath his lips. “This dress, baby, this dress.” He pauses, a look of lust deep within his brown eyes. “Oh, fuck, this dress.” He couldn’t seem to tell you anything else, but you were thankful the gut feeling that told you to buy it was right. You tug on his collar, pulling it down his back to take it off.

Eddie assists you, letting the jacket fall clumsily down the three steps.

“My dress? This shirt!” You gasp, gripping onto it softly. “You look so good. The buttons undone on the top were..” You sigh as he kisses his way down to your shoulder. “…a nice touch.”

His hand pushes up your dress, hands roughly smoothing up your thigh, and one gets to the lacey panties. As his hand brushes the panties to take them off he gives you a manic smile. He takes them off, slowly, head against your shoulder as he does so. As the pair is taken off your foot, he inhales sharply at the sight of them, holding them in front of your body where he can see them. You see his hands touch where you soaked it all night, playing with the slick that has already gathered. “You’re not getting these back.”

He tosses them back playfully, going back to attack your neck. Eventually he leaves kisses all down your torso, and he kisses down your clothed thigh before making a big show of lifting the dress hem up, kissing along your thigh again. Only this time, your thigh wasn’t covered, and it was towards your now uncovered and absolutely throbbing cunt. As he moves closer, you start to whine, as with each kiss he adds more wetness, more tongue. Finally his mouth is right next to your core, and with his head in your skirt, he reaches for each leg to put them on his shoulders. 

He goes straight in, tongue attacking your clit, your still covered feet dig into his back and a choked out moan leaves your throat. Eddie’s lips leave your pussy, his shining eyes in your sight as he popped his head from underneath your dress. “Be loud, show me how much you love my tongue all over your pussy. C’mon. Wanna hear you. If I catch you holding back again you’ll be sorry.” He leans in without another thought, and his tongue takes no time to continue. 

“Oh, fuck!” You felt slightly embarrassed by it, but you were more worried about what he meant at the end there, by you’ll be sorry. If he edged you just for the hell of it, what was he gonna do as a punishment? “Your tongue, feels so fucking good, Ed.”

“Tastes—” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Tastes like heaven. Love your sweet, perfect, beautiful pussy.” The acoustics of talking through your dress didn’t make sense, but you could hear him loud and clear. “Look how wet this pussy is already for me, just dripping, oh fuck.”

“Fuck, you look, fuck, so good Ed. So fucking hot.” 

“You were wet from my appearance alone?” Eddie asks, peering up at you from behind your dress.

“Since the first time I met you.” You gasp out, leaning onto your elbows on the step but finding your head heavy on your neck to look up at him.

“Jesus christ.” You smiled down at him, hand reaching forward for him. He interlocks his with yours and keeps it there as he dives back in your dress. Something feels different…the heat concentrates on your clit as he feverishly attacks it. 

“Holy shit--!” You cry out, jerking your upper body forward. “Ed, holy fuck keep doing that.” His other hand joins him, hooking into you and immediately connecting with your g-spot. As you get closer, he can feel your hand tighten on his own as your moans lose all inhibition and you whine, all high pitched, the sound echoing beautifully in the empty house. “Ed, fuck—” Your orgasm snuck up on you, the heat expanding through your thighs and legs until the edge hits you in a silent scream, and you gush all over his face and your dress and the stairs. 

Thank god Eddie had hardwood. 

He comes out from your dress, and you look at him in disbelief. “What—” you start, still unraveling. “I don’t even—” 

“C’mon.” He mutters, kissing your forehead. You follow him up to his room, knees already weak but moving anyway. 

Your bodies collide with one another, lips mashing in hot, dirty kisses. “Need to fuck you now.” Eddie breathes, his hands working at the zipper on your back. The dress drops to reveal what he already knew, and that it was you weren't wearing a bra. “Perfect fucking tits, fuck.”

He tugs at his belt and untucks his pants, making him look like a horny teenager. Maybe not horny, just a few drinks in. But when he had what he called the hottest girlfriend, he felt like anyone could hardly blame him. His pants fly off and he undoes the last few buttons on his shirt before he yanks it off by the back. 

When he’s finally undressed, he pauses as he gets a good look at you, the both of you ridiculously exposed. “Fuck. Am I so goddamn lucky I get to spend my night with you?”

“Just kiss me.” You tell him, reaching out for him and he lurches forward, wrapping his hands in your hair and taking your lips in a wet kiss. He leads you to his bed, taking step by step as you fall backwards onto it, and none of it is awkward, just perfect. He crawls on top as your leg makes its way around his hips, and he can’t even bother to tease you because if he doesn’t get his cock inside you he is gonna lose it. 

You didn’t expect it so soon, usually getting a tease but the shock pulls out a loud moan from you, Eddie moaning at the same time as he pushes himself into you. He puts his forehead against yours, eyes closed. Yours are too, taking in the feeling of his cock inside you. No matter how many times, it's like you forgot how fucking good it felt, every time. 

“God. I didn’t know a pussy could feel this…fuck.” He mutters as his words make you tighten around him. “Fucking intoxicating.” He leans in to nip lightly against your neck, whispering into your skin. “Can’t fucking get enough of it. And when I—” he lips his hips out of yours, fucking into you slowly, “—fuck you, there’s nothing fucking better.” 

His hips continue, his head remaining in your neck, his body against yours as he just feels you against him. Your hands roam the muscles of his back, nails digging in as his hips gradually fuck you harder. “You always take my cock so goddamn well, baby. Such a good whore for me.” 

You whimper; all coherent thought gone as the feeling of him is pure perfection. 

“Fucking love your cock in me Ed! Fuck, just like- just like that.” 

“Oh, I know you love my cock. You moan like a whore for it. Let me hear you baby.” 

The whines you didn’t realize you were holding back came out of your mouth and he grabbed your hair harshly, and you let out a higher one. “Don’t hold back, remember?”

You nod your head, a restricted move because of his hold on you. Eddie lets go, his hand framing your face delicately. He leans in to kiss you, fierce and protective. “God, you’re so much more…more than I had ever wanted…ever hoped for…” his voice is softer now, whispering into your neck. 

“Ed. You’re so good…to me. So lucky.” 

He places a hand on your clit, rubbing gently at it. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna cum. Cum with me?”

“What am I gonna say, no? To that?” you gasp out. He chuckles softly, the laughter hot against your neck. 

“Close.” You tell him and he picks up the pace, holding back a bit for you. “Eddie I—” and a full moan leaves your lips and as you tighten around him, his hips rutting into you. 

Eddie moans loudly as he cums, a sound you wouldn’t blame angels for if they had used at the gates of heaven. 

His weight is heavy on you, having collapsed. He kisses whatever skin he can reach, your shoulder, collarbone, jawline, corner of your mouth before wrapping your lips in a kiss you can only describe as breathtakingly romantic. 

Fuck were you falling, falling hard. And as Eddie lay on top of you for a solid ten minutes, caressing your skin and kissing you softly, still inside you while basking in the afterglow, he is thinking the exact same thing.

Also that he needs to clean the stairs before Dylan gets home. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Those who requested for this fic: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @names-were-taken

[midnight-fables]

Entry 11: Fistful of Tacks

Bearblr Promptober Day 11: Corn Maze

Summary: Carmen's girlfriend (who he refers to as Darling) joins the kitchen crew on a trip to a corn maze and pumpkin patch that Nat organized, and Carmen is struggle bussing. (Feat. Sydney, Marcus, mentions of Tina, Richie, Eva, Nat, Pete, Nat's daughter)

Warnings: Anxiety, self-worth issues, mentions of disordered eating, mentions of nausea, mentions of panic attacks, swearing, fem reader who is a trauma surgeon (nothing gross described), she/her pronouns, mentions of The Devil (Chef David)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

11 Oct 2024

Why the fuck do people like corn mazes?

No, thank you, I don’t feel like getting lost in fucking corn with a bunch of random people for hours; I could be doing so much more with my time. It’s corn. It invades everything in the Midwest already, for what purpose would you want to intentionally seek out more of that invasion? Getting some freshly-harvested corn for grilled corn, corn chowder, creamy corn sauce with gnocchi, I’m pretty sure Marcus could make a killer sweet cornbread crumble-type thing—sure, I’ll haul my ass to the nearest fucking cornfield—

“Is that a no on the corn maze then…?”

“It’s a fuck no on the corn maze, Syd.”

—But no, I’m not doing a damned corn maze.

Syd recoiled. “Oh. Alright, okay, Jesus. Sorry for bothering you.”

Darling hugged my arm tighter and pouted. “Aw, but I did them with my grandma all the time when I was little. They were so fun.”

I covered my eyes and dug my thumb and fingers into my temples to stave off the dull ache forming in my frontal lobe. “I don’t feel like getting lost in corn.”

Syd. “You just follow the left wall, though.”

Marcus joined us at our table. “You do what now?”

“That’s how you solve mazes, you follow the left wall.”

“Huh.” His voice drew closer to my ear. “You okay, Chef?”

I nodded. Still had my palm over my face. It wasn’t the loudest it could’ve been—again, we beat a lot of families with kids, who tended to show up after 2 pm, according to the people who ran the pumpkin patch and corn maze, and Chicago decided that particular Sunday would be the respite day of hell-with-some-respite season, so it wasn’t murderously hot or humid out. Richie and Tiff were off co-parenting Eva in the pumpkin patch, so that meant I didn’t have to listen to his bullshit—though, admittedly, he was much less bullshit since his stint at Ever, even if we hit that snag after Friends and Family where I thought about launching knives at him every time he happened to be within striking distance.

Boy, am I glad I’m too much of a coward to actually act like the animal I sound like sometimes.

Nat organized something of a family and friends’ get-together to celebrate half a year of being open as a restaurant—and maybe to force us all to take a bit of a break now that we weren’t looking at a bad week potentially shuttering us. I brought it up to Darling not expecting her to jump at the prospect of meeting the whole group—should’ve known, she’s a social butterfly, and, if I was being honest, it was the primary reason I asked. So, she could help buffer in a social setting. These were people I worked with, would take a bullet for, but outside the restaurant, I had barely any social footing. And I wanted to. Have social footing, that is. Darling liked being around people, and while she never complained about me wanting our time together to be our time together, something nagged at me to at least be able to tolerate socializing.

We met up and poked around the market they had nearby for some small decorations we could put in the restaurant that fit the season. Little things that locals made by hand—a macrame wall-hanging, little ceramic pumpkins with paper florals arranged in them, some planters. The planters were Syd’s idea. Bring a bit of greenery to the four-tops. Tina was fawning over Sug and Pete’s baby while they took pictures of her first fall. Or. Something. I don’t know, I had too much on my mind and my head was killing me before we even made it to the pumpkin patch and corn maze. Darling suggested we stop for a bite to eat, sit at the covered tables to get out of the sun for a bit.

She’s smart like that.

We weren’t doing the best with our margins. I forwent being paid to make sure Syd made enough to keep her apartment, and even she was making sacrifices in her pay to make sure front-of-house didn’t get shafted. About 2 weeks ago, my apartment's stove goes, then two of the radiators do, and the landlord—an aside here: fuck landlords. I hope hell exists so landlords can burn in them with me.—anyway, the landlord is being a shit about it, so I’ve been crashing at Darling’s place. But then her range and oven also go to the shitter, like, 3 days later?

Like I said: fuck landlords.

Which means I’m on week two of having to rely on overnight oats and fucking granola bars, family, and takeout or unviable food from service that’s still at least calories, and because we’re getting this shit dialed, that usually means scraps. If any. And you’d think a motherfucker like me who got his shit kicked in when working in New York would be able to tolerate eating literally anything, but that’s the thing—I already did this shit, and it’s already fucked me up. I can’t even get it down anymore without my arms and legs exploding in goosebumps. Without seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling Empire and The Devil all over again. Half the time, I just go hungry and ignore the pangs in my stomach until I get caught up enough in work that I forget about eating, and then whoops, 14 hours have gone by and I haven’t eaten a thing and bile surges at the base of my throat and my eyes water, I can’t breathe. And I get to Darling’s place with what used to be a local favorite, and four bites in, I’m so sure I’m going to throw up because it just tastes like stomach acid and my guts are twisting into knots from anxiety anyway.

Something slid across the table in front of me, and two breaths later, the scent of grilled meat, pepper, vinegar, onions, and mustard filled my nose. My jaw stung as my mouth watered. Darling untangled an arm from around mine and rubbed across my shoulder blades.

“How about we try to eat something, hm?” she cooed.

I picked the pickles off the Chicago dog before inhaling a third of it in one bite. Goosebumps exploded under my jacket.

“Wow, how’d you do that?” Syd asked.

“How’d I do what?”

“Get him to do, uh, anything?”

“Fuck off, Syd,” I said through a mouthful of food.

She snorted into her apple cider.

“Sweetheart,” Darling warned, punctuating it by raking her fingers through my hair to get it off my forehead.

“She did not just call you ‘sweetheart.’” Syd again. I could hear her smiling.

My face flooded with warmth.

God fucking dammit.

Thankfully, Marcus spoke up. “Come on, let ‘em have it or we’re gonna torment you when you find yourself someone nice.”

“Like hell you are!”

“Oh, I’ll remember! Karma, baby!”

Syd let out a huff of a laugh. I wish I would’ve seen her face to get a better sense of how she felt about the idea of letting someone into her life. It’s strange, really, how similar yet different we were, like two clippings taken from the same tree, planted in different pots, placed in different homes. There’s this deep, unidentifiable thread of connection that I feel with her—and she feels with me, I’m sure of it because how else could she call my bullshit for what it was while still preserving the feeling of safety that eluded me everywhere else but a locked room or, sparingly, though getting more frequent, in Darling’s arms? Sort of like a family member you haven’t seen in an eternity but you know would have your back in an instant if you got into trouble. If I’d found out we were twins separated at birth, I wouldn’t question it for a second. And I doubt I’d want to protect her any differently.

She’s got that fire in her eyes that I used to see in my own when I stared into my reflection back in Copenhagen. Feels like an entire lifetime ago (Darling told me that trauma can make time feel like it’s not real, and I’m only finding more and more reason to never doubt the woman) but, back then, I did want something out of cooking that went beyond flipping Mikey the bird. It wasn’t that I wanted the best chef title or even a bullshit star, I wanted to prove something to myself. I wanted to throw a fistful of tacks back at that persistent, shitty voice in my head that kept telling me that I’d never do much, never make a thing of myself. I never did well in school, I didn’t get into college, I didn’t have any friends, I wasn't funny, I couldn’t help my mom, I couldn’t stop Sugar from going mad, I couldn’t keep up with Mikey, I couldn’t ask Claire out, I never made it past districts in wrestling—I was good for fuck all, and that stupid fucking phonograph reminding me of all the shit I couldn’t or didn’t do wouldn’t shut. The fuck. Up.

Syd’s got that fire in her eyes. Syd’s got that passion that I wanted, that I found for a brief stint before The Devil sunk his claws into me. And yeah, I could do fuck all to protect Mikey from his own demons or Sugar from mom’s, but I will glass this planet before I let it stamp out her flames. And doing it like I did? By cutting out people and burying myself neck-deep in the craft of food? Would I stand by and let her do that to herself, too?

Darling erupting into a giggle fit brought me back to the pumpkin patch.

“It looks like it’s got a big ol’ pot belly—look at it!” Syd pointed at a pumpkin with a large lump in it and did an exaggerated walk with her arms up and her cheeks puffed out. Eva giggled at her antics. Darling and I were a bit away from the others as they discussed... something about the pumpkins, I couldn’t even begin to figure out what. I glanced around, tried to get a sense of where and when I was.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Darling murmured, circling around in front of me and taking my face in her hands. “There you are. Where’d you go?”

Her hands were cool, familiar, grounding. I didn’t feel like I was boiling in my skin, which had to be a good sign, right?

“How-how long, uh...?”

She shrugged as Cousin, Eva, Tiff, Syd, and Marcus laughed again. “15 minutes, maybe.”

“Why-why didn’t you snap me out of it?”

“Well, you did eat your food. I figured it probably was a good idea not to interrupt that. And you weren’t warm. Or shaky. Or upset.” She finger-combed my hair back again. “I figured it wouldn’t be the worst thing to let you process for a bit... We gotta do something about your hair, baby.”

“Yeah, I need to get it cut.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think you need to—unless it’s bothering you. But you should put something in it.” Some strands got caught on her fingers, and I flinched at the sting. “Ope, sorry. It’s starting to get crispy on the ends.”

I eyeballed the sign pointing to the entrance of the corn maze while she picked through more knots in my hair.

She kissed my cheek. “What’cha thinking, handsome?”

“How long do you think the corn maze would take us?”

“Um. Hm.” She wrapped her arms around my waist and tucked her head under my chin. I forgot about the friends and family present and hugged her back. Kissed the top of her head. “Maybe an hour. Why?”

“I’d like to try it.” It came out like a question.

My phone dinged.

She pulled back and beamed at me. “Yeah? You sure?”

Her excitement wrenched a smile from me, too. How could I not? She was adorable.

“Yeah. Just need some quiet time.”

She took off for the maze, and I followed. Glanced at my phone to make sure it wasn’t something important.

2 messages from Sugar.

A photo of the two of us hugging, followed by a message saying, “You two are so cute. I'm proud of you, Bear.”

I stopped, glanced back at her. She was holding her daughter, giant smile on her face, in the middle of pocketing her phone. She tipped her head in the direction of the maze and mouthed “Go.”

I saved the photo to my favorites album and headed to the corn maze.

[roseaesynstylae]

So, the idea of the Bad Batch (minus Echo, plus Emerie) being the other half of the Nulls has consumed my goddamn mind. Therefore, as you do when an idea takes up residence in your frontal lobe for the foreseeable future, here's some headcanons.

The Bad Batch (except for Echo and Omega, who have no clue what's going on) hate the Nulls. As in, "murder on sight" hate them. From an in-universe perspective, there could be a myriad of reasons, ranging from feelings of abandonment to resentment over them having a better life. From a writer's standpoint, it's because I love me some good old familial dysfunction and angst.

The more...unhinged...tendencies the Nulls are known for manifests in the Bad Batch more as "let's jump off this cliff and use explosives to direct our fall!" and less as "hey, check out my new skin gloves!" Of course, if you push them too far, it's a different story. In order of least to most likely to pull a "lemme turn you into an art installation," it's Omega, Wrecker, Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech. Omega wouldn't do that, at least not at this point in her life. Wrecker, when enraged, goes for the just-hit-them solution. Hunter's a decent human being and usually wouldn't do something like that...Unless his kid's been kidnapped by a crazy Imperial doctor for the fifteenth time, on which point he starts becoming a little deranged. Crosshair hovers close to the line but wouldn't do it to someone unprovoked. Tech is a special case, in that he has to be pushed, but when he is, the results make the rest of the Nulls go "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST."

The Nulls want to reunite with their lost siblings and build a relationship, but that's kind of hard to do when said siblings (except Omega) keep trying to kill them on sight and none of them were built for intricate and deeply complicated emotional issues. Still, they persist. Eventually, they could probably get to the level of "awkward conversations" but it'll take a lot of work.

The Bad Batch have what makes the Nulls superior to regular clone troopers, plus their unique enhancements (which in this version are less defects and more Nala Se picking an attribute for each of them and cranking it up to 11). They feel that it makes them better than the Nulls, something they're not shy about expressing.

Emerie is the same height as her estranged (I can't think of a word that applies to this specific situation but this one will do) brothers, because I stan a tall queen.

Nala Se is smug as hell whenever she sees Orun Wa. "CT-9904 just broke all records for accuracy, CT-9902 discovered a new element, CT-9903 crushed beskar like it was paper, and CT-9901 tracked a man through five systems and a solar storm. What are your clones doing, again?"

There is no understating the sheer "wtf" that goes through the Nulls' heads when they first see Omega. But, of course, this is Omega. Imagine the cutest image of her you've seen, fanart or canon. That's what the Nulls see when they meet her. Unsurprisingly, the Nulls, who got the Mandalorian gene to adopt anything that isn't nailed down, go from "wtf" to "so smol 🥰" in roughly a minute.

Kal Skirata is in the corner. His attempt to interact with the Bad Batch did not go well. He casually calls Hunter "son," as he does with various characters, and the resulting explosion puts a thermal detonator to shame. Since it's clear that his presence is not making things better, he's sort of just in the corner.

The rest of Clan Skirata, and associates, are staying out of this. Gilamar and Vau took one look and retreated to the bar because they know better than to get involved. Everyone else witnessed one of the less acrimonious encounters and collectively decided that they are not jumping into the emotional equivalent of a pit of rabid wolverines.

Echo is the go-between. He does not want to be the go-between. But he's the only neutral party in this thing aside from Omega, and the rest of the Batch don't trust the Nulls with her.

Spare a though for 99. He raised four of these guys, often with the aid of leashes. Truly, he is an unsung hero of the Clone Wars

[n4giism]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ frontal lobe muzik by daniel caesar ࿐ྂ

blue lock x fem!reader

characters: rensuke kunigami, meguru bachira, hyoma chigiri

content: part 2 of weird/bad habits they have. a bit of cursing (kunigami) and i added two parts for bachira bcus he’s #bestboy

ari’s note: i love daniel caesar sm omd. also for part 3 i’m probably gonna do reo, yukimiya and another character i haven’t decided yet lol so stay tuned!!

part 1. part 3.

rensuke kunigami: setting alarms every second and not getting up

it was your first time sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend. it had been a long time into your relationship with kunigami but you both never slept over at each other's houses before, let alone in the same bed. that is until today where you both lost track of time and it had already gotten too late for kunigami to head home. hence you suggested for him to just sleep at your house for the night and he agreed.

seeing your boyfriend aggressively doing something with his phone made you curious to ask what he was doing. was it something he always did before bed? you were very curious.

"what are you doing, kuni?"

"i'm setting my alarm to wake up for gym tomorrow. i gotta get up at 6. you can go to sleep first, it'll take awhile." he replied, kissing your forehead and looking back at his phone.

"what? it's just one alarm, why would it take so long?" you asked and sat up from lying down beside kunigami, who was currently leaning against the headboard.

you scooted closer to him and saw the monstrosity he had created. on his phone, in his clock app, were what felt like a hundred alarms. all one second apart from each other.

"oh my god, kuni.. what the hell are you doing?" you asked, shock laced your voice as kunigami kept setting more and more alarms.

he mentioned getting up at 6, and he was already setting alarms for 7am.

"what's wrong? i'm just setting my alarm." he replied, confused as to why you were shocked.

"you said 'alarm', kuni. what you're doing is setting 'alarmsssss'! with an 's'! plural alarm!" you explained, eyes wide; still shocked that he had set so many alarms.

"you're overthinking it, dear. i probably don't even need this many alarms. i usually get up at the first one, trust me. i'm just taking precautions." he chuckled light-heartedly.

"you sure?" you asked, concerned and worried. it would be living hell if the alarm rang for an hour straight. plus, having your sleep interrupted at 6 in the morning on a weekend does not sound like a lovely idea at all.

"yes, trust me. i'll turn off all the other alarms once i'm up, okay? you won't even know i'm awake!" he reassured.

you eyed him suspiciously, but ultimately let it go and just went to sleep. he is kunigami rensuke, after all. you trusted him. he keeps his word.

kunigami bonus!:

god, you were losing your mind. it was currently 6:08am. how did you know the exact time? it's thanks to kunigami and his army of alarms. you heard him snooze them 8 times already.

and to make it worse, kunigami's alarm sound was the rooster crowing one.

you whined and covered your ears with the blanket. but even that couldn't block out the stupid alarms. you could even hear kunigami snoring away.

"kuni.. get the fucking alarms," you mumbled, eyes closing but the constant rooster ringing in your ear kept you from drifting to your slumber.

it rung for another 3 minutes - the longest 3 minutes of your life - until you decided to get up and turn the alarms off yourself.

getting up, you reached over kunigami's body and grabbed his phone. you took his hand and used his finger to unlock the password and you finally shut off all the alarms.

sighing, you placed the phone back on the bedside table and went back to sleep, "so much for, 'trust me!', 'you won't even know i'm awake!'" you mocked sleepily.

let's just say, kunigami did not go to the gym that morning.

meguru bachira: using auto caps in the middle of a sentence

he does this very often, especially when he’s trying to emphasise a point. his texts also have a lot of typos, only god knows what he’s trying to say.

meguru bachira pt 2: refuses to leave until you say “i love you” back

“i’m going now!” bachira called as he put on his shoes. he checked that he had everything he needed for soccer practice and stood up from the stool.

you emerged from the bedroom and ran to him, engulfing him in a tight hug, “okay, take care. have fun at soccer!” you said and pulled his face down to give him a kiss.

“i will! okay, i’m going now. bye bye, i love you.” he said and picked up his shoe bag and opened the door.

“okay, bye!” you waved.

“i love you.” he repeated.

“i know! take care!” you said, worried. why isn’t he leaving yet?

“i said i love you!!!” he pouted.

“yes, i heard. now go! or you’re gonna be late!” you pestered, about to close the door but bachira quickly put his foot between the door and the wall.

“say it back!!” he whined.

“what? meguru, you’re seriously gonna be late!” you replied, panicked.

“you don’t love me anymore?” he whimpered, tears forming in his eyes.

“what! meguru, what are you on about? of course i do.” you answered and embraced his body lightly.

“then why didn’t you say it back!”

“oh my god, bachira. you’re really like a child.”

“i don’t care. i’m not leaving until you tell me you love me.” he said, put down his shoe bag and stood his ground. crossing his arms and huffing, he meant what he said.

“oh my god.. okay, okay! i love you too, megu! i love you so much! now please hurry and go! or isagi’s gonna be calling my phone non-stop asking where you are!” you said and motioned your arms for him to go.

“okay! bye!! i love you sooo much, y/n!” he exclaimed, happy that you told him you love him. he picked up his things and walked off.

hyoma chigiri: giving you a cup of ice when he's mad

dating chigiri came with many things. it included him sharing his hair care tips with you and a lot of healthy eating because he prioritised healthy eating a lot.

but it also came with his princess needs. like how he needs his hair to air dry for 15 minutes before he applies all the different hair oils, hair serums, hair masks and whatnot. he also had a strict diet. and he always, absolutely always, made time for his leg care where he’d hog the tv for an hour or so, and move all the sofas and the coffee table away to roll out his yoga mat and just meditate and do whatever he needs to do for that hour.

dating chigiri also came with his many weird habits. the one that baffled you the most was him giving you a cup of ice when he’s mad.

because chigiri had a strict routine to follow everyday, sometimes it hindered with your own needs too. like wanting to use the bathroom but he was in the shower for what felt like forever, rinsing and shampooing his hair.

it was especially difficult when the two of you just started living together. the both of you were unable to coexist in the same house and adjust your routines to one another. but with time, things changed and now the two of you live comfortably. you found yourself pondering about the first time chigiri got mad at you over something small and it made you giggle a bit.

it started when you found his secret stash of strawberries. chigiri’s favourite fruit was strawberries in the fridge and he always included them in his diet - whether it’s in his morning breakfast, or blending them in his protein shake.

not knowing the strawberries were so important to him, you ate just a few of his strawberries. you did not know that chigiri counted his strawberries, and only ate a certain amount at a time. you also did not know that he had a small notebook that he uses to keep track of his routines; counting strawberries included.

chigiri was appalled to discover that he was short on strawberries when he was making his protein shake that afternoon. he noticed the green leaves of the strawberries were in the nearby bin and he connected the pieces together to come to the conclusion that you had ate his precious strawberries.

“hyo! could you help me here, please? i dropped my lip balm behind the dresser, i need you to help me move it!” you called from your bedroom. chigiri rolled his eyes, huffing in annoyance.

you were on your phone waiting for chigiri when he came in the room holding a glass of - what looked like - ice.

“oh thank goodness you’re here, hyo.” you sighed in relief upon seeing his face. he pouted, placed the glass of ice on your dresser and walked away.

“what? hyo! hello!? hyo? what is this for?!” you called again and looked at the glass of ice, puzzled.

he didn’t talk to you the entire day, but he followed you around the house like a puppy, and whenever you attempted to throw the ice away, he’d quickly intercept, shaking his head silently and placing the glass on the counter. then when you asked him for an explanation, he walked away.

after a few attempts of discarding the ice - and chigiri coming to stop you - you gave up, and just left the glass there.

it was around 9pm and you were washing the dishes with chigiri standing right beside you, until he turned his head to where the glass of ice was and he saw that it had melted into water.

“you ate my strawberries,” he finally said.

“what? hyo, you didn’t talk to me the whole day, and the first thing you say after, what, 9 hours, is ‘you ate my strawberries’?” you replied, jolting a bit when he suddenly spoke.

“yeah.” he answered quickly like it wasn’t a big deal.

“i told myself i’d talk to you after the ice melted.” he added.

“is that what all this is about, hyo?” you muttered and he nodded.

“i’m gonna break up with you if you try that again,” you threatened light-heartedly and chigiri quickly bit back, “then i’ll give you more ice cubes. once it melts then we are dating again.”

he knew you were joking and that’s the worst part. chigiri always had his way, he knew you couldn’t not love him.

you looked at him and he gave you a blank stare.

“you’re so weird, hyo.”

“but you still love me.”

“… whatever.”

end.

[treason-and-plot]

Harrison sits with his head bowed, twisting his fingers together. He and Roy are alone in the room; Joe and Ivan have been dispatched to stand guard outside. Roy’s anger towards Harrison feels paternal, personal; Harrison has disappointed him. Harrison has betrayed him. Roy spent two days fighting for Harrison, negotiating the deal of a lifetime caged in a stuffy boardroom high above the city with hard-nosed Herbalife execs, and this is how Harrison repays him! It’s a slap in the face. A display of nearly unforgiveable effrontery, only assuaged by the fact that Harrison has made such a huge contribution to Roy’s bank balance.  

“Do you have any idea how close you came tonight to destroying everything we’ve worked for?” Roy says. “Do you?”

“I’m sorry, Roy,” says Harrison in a barely audible voice. “I just wanted to celebrate. With my mates.”

“All it would have taken was one picture on social media of you snorting white powder and Herbalife would have dropped you like a hot potato,” says Roy. ”And chances are your club would've torn up your contract as well. How the fuck could you not have realised that? Jesus Christ, dude. You have a carefully curated public image as a clean-living health nut. You told me yourself you don’t even drink. What the hell were you thinking? Did you suffer some severe frontal lobe trauma this afternoon that you forgot to tell me about?"

“I wasn’t thinking,” says Harrison. “I only wanted to have some fun. I’m sorry, alright?”

“You’re a professional athlete and a public figure, Harrison. In case you missed the memo, you’re no longer allowed to have fun. In fact, from now on you’re not even allowed to swallow a fucking aspirin unless you ask me first,” says Roy. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Yes, Roy,” says Harrison. He looks on the verge of tears.

Roy shakes his head and walks over to the desk. He scoops the cocaine from the table into a small plastic bag and puts the bag inside his jacket pocket. He turns back to Harrison.

“Where are the while llamas?” he says.

“What?” says Harrison

“Don’t fuck with me, Harrison. I know someone dropped off a bag of pills here tonight,” says Roy. “Where are they?”

Harrison chews on his bottom lip.

“In the top drawer of the dresser over there,” he says.

Roy walks over to the dresser and finds a small bag containing four grainy white pills with llamas stamped on them. He puts it in his pocket with the bag of cocaine.

“I’m going to leave you now,” he says to Harrison. ”Joe and Ivan will be stationed outside your door all night, so don’t even think about leaving this room or inviting anyone around."

Harrison raises haunted eyes to Roy's and gives a short nod. Roy softens his voice.

"Let this night serve as a valuable lesson, Harry. You almost lost everything, but thanks to the fact that your agent is a fucking boss you still have a career, and a future. And never forget I have ears and eyes everywhere, dude. If you fuck up, I will find out. Disregard that fact at your fucking peril."

[azraphels]

I found this draft in my notes! it's a draft from when I wrote "Wolf Pack ChatFic" and when I reread it I was going crazy at how much it was... ANYWAY Theo left and went to France because he's hosted by Isaac and with him are Jackson, Malia, Isaac and Kira!

➤01:45 Missed Call: THEODORK

━━ Hello! I mean - how should I - has the registration already started? Oh fuck! Anyway! I'm Liam leave a message!

"Even living with assholes with poles up their asses, I didn't know wolves could get drunk like that."

Liam wondered how much Theo had been drinking at that very moment. And then endless other thoughts ran through his mind ranging from how he wanted to see him just for laughs, to how cute he was with that mumbling voice of his.

But then he paused on a thought that probably would never have crossed his mind and that made him doubt himself:

'I would have liked him to drink with me for the first time'

It was just a fleeting thought, it hurt to even think about letting it out of a part of his brain; but having thought of it, as if the frontal lobe that generates his devil of such confused emotions were playing with throwing them like such strong football blows against his cerebellum, making him lose his balance and his ability to be able to pay attention to the rest of the world, with the ball then bouncing against his temporal lobe trying to imagine Theo's face in exactly that frame where he was so close to Liam's face that Liam could notice how perfect his little mole on his left cheek was, until it rolled the ball is completely deflated in the brainstem but just like the ball he just can't remember when he completely lost his breath.

These emotions for Liam were something he could never imagine feeling, it was useless to even try to explain why he felt like this, he just felt bad, right?

It was just a bad disease that made him think desperately about just one person!

Like a Virus!

Liam definitely had a Virus!!

After giving himself a light slap on the face to recover, he cracked a smile and then like an idiot he heard that message on his answering machine three more times only to imprint Theo's sweet and seductive warm and hoarse voice in his mind, before deciding to hear the other six messages.

➤02:37 Missed Call: THEODORK

━━ Hello! I mean - how should I - has the registration already started? Oh fuck! Anyway! I'm Liam leave a message

"I can explain! The important thing is that Malia didn't lose an arm! What the fuck. When you play with boats, at least someone has to die on them. No one has been split in two by a ten kilo anchor, it could just be a fucking bad luck"

Liam didn't understand that message left on the answering machine. He should have been reading the messages in the group with everyone else but he just scrolled, it was morning, he had just woken up and found seven messages from Theo from the night before on his answering machine. He didn't have time to read chat messages, or rather, he preferred to hear Theo's voice scolding Scott about how everyone should be more responsible and absolutely not break the sink in Mason's house just because he saw Mason cheating at Monopoly or insults from Stiles about how Theo shouldn't have brought Jackson on his side!

So instead of reading the messages, he rolled up under his blankets and held the phone to his ear, hearing Theo's happy, carefree voice, and still there a part of his brain thought 'how much I wish it was me who made him so happy '. But his brain was kicked again just for staying silent, this time the parietal lobe was fucked up a little!

He rolled up, resting half his face on the pillow and played the voicemail again, Theo's little laugh finally destroying him but also managing to bring him back to life and put him back together.

Theo It was a fucking Virus that was supposed to be eradicated from his body!

➤03:33 Missed Call: THEODORK

━━ Hello! I mean - how should I - has the registration already started? Oh fuck! Anyway! I'm Liam leave a message

"When I first saw them, I thought they were my heroes, that they would take me out of the pain I was feeling, that they would make me happy, just a stupid kid with a life ahead of me... I wish I'd met you that day ... But I was nine? And you were probably 7?

Liam's body became cold, he was still, motionless while that damned sensation of falling from the sky ran down his entire back. His heart clenched at Theo's broken voice, it was as if at any moment he would be destroyed by his own thoughts of him, with his voice cracking and the rustle of his hand in his hair. And from his voice alone she could tell that Theo's heart, Tara's heart was hurting.

He needed to hug him, to feel him close to him and yet his brain was now screaming at him to do something, to say something to him.

But it was just a message left on an answering machine, and Liam cursed himself for not having been awake just to be able to be close to him, to even be able to feel him next to him.

But those words, those words that Theo said in that voice of just wanting to be a dot among so many other vowels and symbols, were grabbing his heart and scratching it.

Could a seven-year-old ever completely change another child's life?

He didn't have the strength to hold back those thoughts, he didn't decide to listen to that message again, he would have cracked too and he couldn't do it, it was only midday!

➤03:56 Missed Call: THEODORK

━━ Hello! I mean - how should I - has the registration already started? Oh fuck! Anyway! I'm Liam leave a message

"Someone 'accidentally' threw their Scott-Exs into the water. Always a funny joke. Sh don't tell anyone.... But it was me"

Theo's voice seemed to have revived with that spark of his that made Liam melt and angry at the same time. How could he even think that a stupid voice so seductive and so fucking divine could be so stupidly stupid sometimes?! That amused little laugh making him seem not only drunk but a little high on weed.

He just wanted so damn much to be next to him, to feel that laughter on his skin.

Had he become mad? Or crazy?

It was this virus that made him feel this way....

Lost?

➤04:28 Missed Call: THEODORK

━━ Hello! I mean - how should I - has the registration already started? Oh fuck! Anyway! I'm Liam leave a message

"I don't know, I wondered what you would have been like as a child, always with those big doe eyes? Did you run away from Jenna? Did you trample on the autumn leaves? I've always hated them, not for the noise they left behind but for the feeling of melancholy, it was in October when they diagnosed me-"

The message stopped immediately, the sentence wasn't complete, Liam didn't know what Theo wanted to say at the end of the message but he had the same feeling as two messages before. Theo needed help, he wanted to run his hands through his hair, smell his scent, know what emotion he smelled like at that precise moment even if he could very well understand it from his voice. Why was Theo only vulnerable when he wasn't in his presence? Or not when their shoulders were touching pleasantly and neither of them wanted to move away even though they knew that misunderstandings would arise if anyone looked at them?

Why could he be when Liam couldn't touch him and feel his breathing one step away from him?

He smiled at the reference to his mother, after all Theo had grown fond of Jenna even if he didn't show it, even if he would never, ever show it because he didn't want to be a burden to anyone or at least Liam thought that Theo didn't he deserved maternal affection and Liam hated that bitter taste that remained in his mouth every single time.

But how did the sentence end? What did Theo want to tell him?

Why did it stop?

He had so many questions to ask Theo, but also none.

He just wanted to see his eyes and drown in him.

➤05:00 Missed Call: THEODORK

━━ Hello! I mean - how should I - has the registration already started? Oh fuck! Anyway! I'm Liam leave a message

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I keep calling you"

Liam wanted to tell him that he would never have to apologize, that he loved his voice, that he wanted to answer him and be able to talk to him.

➤05:02 Missed Call: THEODORK

➤05:04 Missed Call: THEODORK

➤05:05 Missed Call: THEODORK

➤05:06 Missed Call: THEODORK

Liam could only see Theo's uncertainty in calling him again and telling him something else to compromise or not.

➤05:46 Missed Call: THEODORK

━━ Hello! I mean - how should I - has the registration already started? Oh fuck! Anyway! I'm Liam leave a message

"I... I don't know... I need... God... I just... I miss you"

Liam's heart skipped a beat.

[luoisalunitic]

discussing HK stuff (spoilersers)

Hollow knight is certainly a funky game am I right? So, we know almost nothing about the void civilization or anything really, like TLC’s mother, (Heretic) Joni, where the fuck WL came from, and the whole bell situation in Silksong, I’ll be mossbag today and try to figure something’s out

Most of the things that I mention about the bells in Silksong is from mossbags bell video, like the notes that play when hitting the bell and as someone who works at a daycare with music stuff and in orchestra, I can say that mossbag is right about the notes being played. The notes seem to be a Pharloom anthem or something, as a bass version plays at the beginning of the trailer, whenever the bells are played and in a Lace fight if I remember the trailer right. Music seems to play a big role in Pharloom, from the music note like symbol on top of Hornets cage, to Hornet learning how to play her needle from the church person in the mossy pit area, and to Lace conducting those butterfly bird things. We can also tell that silk plays a big part as well, as addition to the symbol on Hornets cage, the ball looks like a ball of silk (haha get it? Silksong)

I’d like to discuss HK and PK next, we can guess that the idea instilled was the memory at the end of Path of Pain with PK and HK, but is it just that memory? surely other characters helped with the idea, right? like White Lady, maybe the Great Knights and Dreamers? Hornet definitely would’ve played a role in that, but, what if it was Ghost who instilled the idea? That one moment in the abyss.. two siblings facing each other.. one ending up falling while the other one joins the ranks of their father….. okay that’s enough rambling for me

Another things is what the fuck is Lost Kin doing? why the fuck is it in Ancient Basin if the door was sealed off and Deepnest is on the other side of the tram? PK must’ve taken Lost Kin, or maybe Ogrim? Like wasn’t Ogrim exiled?? maybe that’s why he was exiled idk guys, but that also means Lost is older than both HK and Ghost, and i can only assume that Lost died from someone attacking them, because how in the ever loving fuck do you trip and shatter your frontal lobe /silly

that’s kinda all tbh, hope you enjoyed my 1am ramblings

[basketsys]

We're sick so I wrote a stand up comedy script about being a system called "Late night insomnia (and fever) driven system themed stand up comedy" or just "Dudes Inside Disorder"

[Sources from some jokes are in the bottom of the post, if you click any of the little numbers they will send you to the original Google document I used for writing]

Hello and welcome to this mess of a show, my legal name is unimportant since you are not the government to be concerned about it but you guys can call this sack of meat and bones “Basket” or “Basket System” if you want to quote on quote full name us. A little background about that name, it is supposed to be more like one of those baskets that you often find in farmer markets full of fruits and berries and stuff, but you can kinda also see it as a dirty laundry basket too because, to be fair, these clothes? They stink a bit now, you just can't smell from your chairs which is probably better for the sake of both of us.

You didn't need to know that but, oh well, I'm already over sharing tonight, what a little more to throw at the mix.

If you don't know what a system is, don't worry, I will explain, a system is a little silly thing the human brain does where it gives you silly guys to live with inside your brain alongside you. And if you're already thinking “I never met a system before nor heard about one ever” then it might be because of 1 out of 3 reasons: Either a. You must really live along with people without trauma or problems which, good for you, b. We only tell very close friends or partners about this kind of stuff so someone might not want to cause problems in the relationship or something along those lines, or c. Damn, you might be the problem. Like sincerely, you must be the reason why we don't talk about it so openly and only so secretly and we have to be like the LGBTQ community almost getting out of the closet and all that.

And honestly if you are the type of guy that heard about the people in your head stuff and immediately thought “Oh like that one movie, Shattered” then yes you are the problem so me and my other 50 friends are coming for you, except that when I mean my other 50 friends I really mean 1 body with 50 people in their frontal lobe.

Because really, get that movie out of the way, the people who did it are hated so much by thousands of people who actually suffer from this, including us. So let's clear up what a system really is like.

Being a system is more like living in a house with so many roommates you lost count and also almost never see and then one day you go to the fridge to get that one snack that you were saving for later, and then going to said fridge and not finding it and immediately screaming “WHO THE FUCK ATE MY SNACK?!” except you scream it internally and not out loud in front of your parents who are already disappointed in the fact that you either keep saying that you can't remember your childhood, which I'm sure they worked so fucking hard to give you a memorable one (/s, shaking head, dead stare), or the fact that you are a little too fruity for them and you don't want them to know so soon how mentally ill you actually are. And after that you just start planning murder and then suddenly and without any notice you just hear someone behind you saying “Calm down, it's fine, we can get it later, it's no worry” and you're just there mid planning going “When the fuck did you fucking appear? Like dude, at least make a little sound. Also this is my problem, it doesn't concern you.” and the guy just responds with “It does concern me because in fact you're planning on murdering my son. You're planning the murder of 6-year-old Timmy here over a snack.” and then you just don't know how to feel, either you feel like an asshole or you still keep going on with your plans because technically they can't put you in jail for beating the shit out of a child that resides inside your frontal lobe.

Yeah, just to be safe, never ask a system what crimes have been committed inside that brain, because in fact, it might be a lot. Some might even say arson and you'll be so glad that the fire 10-year-old Sarah did was in a safe space and not in a forest unlike a middle-aged singlet woman making a baby shower.

Oh, right yeah I haven't talked about how we call you guys, right. Systems refers to normal people as “singlets”, comes from the word “singular”. Yeah we have to pretend we are singlets a lot. Either it's school, a job, social media even, Thanksgiving, Christmas, for government papers like a birth certificate, imagine if the government creates a law for systems where we have to update the birth certificate everytime we get a new silly guy in the headband they just attach the list of names and date of splitting to the already 1 page long certificate using tape or staples, the list would be fucking endless and we would contribute a fucking lot to global warming. It's not like we even care about the headcount a lot, we also sometimes don't keep count of how many people are in this sack of bones and meat. Also it's hilarious when you start talking about introjects because you might as well be committing either illegal cloning or identity theft in the eyes of the government, so. Yeah better to not keep track of the infinite amounts of Wilbur Soot's in every system and how many each body has as well, they would end each shift like “How many Wilbur's did you count today?” “Today was a chill day, only 22. Like 5 different bodies, it was cool. One of them was trans I think.” like it's no longer ‘How much did they pay you this week?’ it's ‘How many times did you have to press ctrl+v this evening?’.

The government would be like “You wouldn't download a movie” or even “You wouldn't download a car”, well, guess what bitch, I fucking downloaded a car and his fucking name is Lighting McQueen.[1]

Honesty sometimes I feel like introjects are like Rule 34 even, if there's a character there's an introject, especially if there's a lot of attention on that media, oh boy. I'm just gonna say, the quantity of Marvel introjects I've seen, even worse than when DSMP was popularized. For you who are not zoomers, that's something off the internet which was basically a theater club to say the least, don't ask, you don't wanna know, you don't ask more questions about it nor say why did Dream actually needed to stay in jail forever because if you do you're gonna get doxxed. And it's not fun, look at us we change identity every random amount of time because of this exact same thing. Just kidding it is not because of that, it's because someone was mean to us at the ripe age of 8, so now we're fucked up mentally[2] (with an up-beat voice). Now, we're 15 fuckers in a trench coat with one goal, taking a nap, and also trying to figure out who ate the last of the fettuccine Alfredo. I'm looking at you, Alejandro. (looking at nothing) You could've just left a note. I won't be mad for eating my leftovers (nodding at audience while mouthing “Yes, I will” )

What's also fun about this (whisper: “it is not, not really”) is that, you don't only get DID, the “Dudes Inside” Disorder, you also get a fun little combo of other mental illnesses so you don't miss out on the offer, like a McDonald's promotion where you just pay $2 extra and get something else, the same here, you get a little bit more fucked up and you get a new guy and a mental disorder, like ADHD, autism, OCD, BPD, Bipolar, PTSD, anxiety, the whole DSM-5 diagnosis criteria. Like yeah they can come free with your new guy, even bundle up and the newbie could also be like “Oh my God, I wanna front and experience life like I have never been more alive” a then when they experience life and also with the several other disorders and even sometimes disabilities that the body can have they're just like “…I don't want to be here anymore, I wanna go home” and then there's the one alter who's been there for the last 5 years just looking from afar and saying “You must be new here, welcome to hell” like an old war veteran while they're just, what, 17?

And then you do the math and realize “Goddamn that 17-year-old was 12 when they appeared” and to that I say, and in complete honesty, the people that can appear can already come pre-traumatized like a pre-cooked meal that you just pop into the microwave. It's no longer “I can fix him” now it's “I will get him so he goes to therapy himself”.[3] I got that one off system Tumblr, it's fine the amnesia will make them forget they ever did that joke. Also, you're not even the one checking what's available in the alter market, the brain just looks and analyzes the world like a menu like “What do I need at this moment, a medium ugly half dead man? No, too fruity. Boy failure male wife wet cat? Too pathetic. An intergalactic teenager from another species, a completely different civilization with completely different culture, skin colour, inhumane features and an asshole personality? (Gasp) Yeah I'll get that. Excuse me, I'll get the Karkat Vantas, directly from Homestuck, don't do any of those fancy AU stuff, I'll get the original. Can I make that a combo? Yeah, give me the social anxiety, extra shake. Want this to get called a nervous system[4] instead of whatever name they made up for themselves, thanks”

Another thing that also changes a lot is how you consume content, either a song, a series, movie, you name it. You guys are just out there saying “I want to watch this movie” let's take Penguins of Madagascar as an example, and you just get through the movie, silly movie, funny even, you enjoyed it and then never think about it again until that one night you're scrolling Netflix, great. But as a system? Oh boy.

As a system, you have to pray to finish the movie sometimes. Either someone else wanted to see the movie too and can be a child or an adult so now either they kicked you or you're getting a friend to chat with during the movie, sometimes even babysit but everything cool, you finish the movie and mission accomplished, you survived.

Or also what can happen is a secret third thing which we all just sweat cold at night. If you get through the movie, amazing, you made it, now pray so Riko doesn't follow you home like a demon attached to you, don't matter which fucking God you have to pray to, even if it's the angel inside your brain you got from reading the fucking Bible back when you were on Sunday school or fucking Zeus, you just do. You're atheist? Not anymore, you need all celestial help you can get so he doesn't appear ever. You heard his voice? No you fucking didn't. Just keep walking. You don't wanna hear it from the host, or the system manager, asking when and how did we get an arsonist terrorist spy penguin that can puke bombs at will and also doesn't communicate very well. Anyways, just smile and wave…wait, NO.

One last thing I want to talk about is how diverse sometimes the alters in systems can get, they can be transgender, cisgender, human, non-human, straight up animals, demons, angels, a fucked up drawing you did when you were 12, anything. And also leaves the room for them to be part of the LGBTQ community and also form families and relationships in the same system.

For example, remember Timmy? The 7-year-old about to be murdered? And how this guy just said “That's my child?” yeah, we just, start saying shit like that, sometimes is because of the memories that they have before forming or it can be just because they saw a child and said “Yoink, now you're my son” like there's a 50/50. But a lot of systems consider each other family and that's actually very nice. Even internal dating happens, genuinely. Which yeah, it is already pretty fruity to have silly little guys inside you, now they're actually gay?[5] Damn, okay box of fruit loops, we get it, calm down. That's actually what one of our singlet friends told us when I explained my relationship with my fucking husband which lives with me in the same frontal lobe, and to be fair, he's right, if we actually bought each one of them their own pride flag we would be broke in no time, like. It was to pick a single struggle, not to grab a handful of them. It said it on the sign “Take one”.

Moving on, you know, hopefully I live long enough to see a system meeting expo-like event, I want to see the posting of the event saying something like "Thank you for coming to our meeting! We had a thousand attendees in this event" and then someone as an outsider just saw like 6 different bodies in front of a Starbucks.

Some references:

[1] Came with this one with a friend system

[2] Sysblr

[3] Sysblr

[4] Sysblr

[5] Close singlet friend

[our-flag-means-yippee]

THESE ARE ALL THE MOST PROMINENT CHARACTERS OF WHAT ELSE WE DO IN THE SHADOWS!!! MOST ARE BASED OF ALREADY PRE-EXISTING OFMD CHARACTERS BUT THE REST ARE PURELY ORIGINAL!!!

What Else We Do In The Shadows is basically an autistic fever dream I came up with prior to Our Flag Means Death s2. It features original dumbasses that are heavily inspired by the dumbasses from Our Flag, and is set in the world of the original What We Do In The Shadows (I basically just added the word "Else" in there, lemme know if i should change it).

To get a general basis of the characters in this AU, think of Edward and Stede from Our Flag Means Death. Now think of Viago and Anton from What We Do In The Shadows. I basically just followed the same formula with the Revenge Crew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, the characters:

Rod Rodriguez - Rod is the swapped version of Jim Jimenez (see what I did there?) Rod is, in the best way possible, too nice to be a 310 year old vampire. They are often naive in their choices and easily get overwhelmed when things don’t go as planned. They try to find the silver lining in situations, even though that phrase has gotten them in trouble a few times.

Enzo Abebe - Enzo is the swapped version of Oluwande Boodhari, a werewolf in his mid-30’s who has a hard time enjoying pretty much anything. He tries to fit into human society the most out of anyone, but the problem is that he hates people. Has no trouble getting into trouble if it means he gets something out of it, but regardless of being only a fraction of the vampires age, he harbors the most wisdom about trying to survive life.

Horace Balassa - Horace is the swapped version of Black Pete, a seven century (plus 1 year) old vampire who has been sick of everyone’s shit since day one. As a former plague doctor and retired prostitute, he knows a thing or two about “taking care of people”. He serves as the grumpy old man anchor to Rod’s perpetual optimism, and tries to have as much carnal enjoyment as possible. Despite his promiscuous lifestyle, he yearns for any romantic connection with someone.

Finley Jones - Finley is the swapped version of Lucius Spriggs, a werewolf in his early 30’s who not only doesn’t know jack shit, he’s never even heard of him. He’s a repressed former frat guy who tries to prove that he’s the alpha but fails. Miserably. Every time. I’m not even sure if his frontal lobe is even developed at his big age. He’s the oc I shit on the most because he is that fucking stupid but it’s just bc I love him.

Lionel Garnier - Lionel is the swapped version of Frenchie, an energy vampire who never shows any emotion. I’m gonna be upfront and this may get me cancelled, but he is the servant to Finley’s family. I know it sounds very bad at surface level BUT I PROMISE THAT THERE IS NUANCE AND A PURPOSE TO THIS. Many other characters point this out, and it’s shown to be problematic even in canon. While showing little emotion in his inflections, he provides the gangs snide comments about the bullshit they go through, and does his absolute most to drain their energy. But he’s also very loyal and protective of them, especially to Finley, whom he’s known for years.

Princey Fluffernutter - He’s the swapped version of Izzy Hands… I don’t think I can defend myself on this one. He’s a strigoi who is kinda like the Petyr of the group. He mostly lives in their basement and feeds off Rod and Horace’s leftovers. No one knows how old this guy is. Despite his mind mostly being lost to time, he still retains some consciousness and probably has the most common sense out of the entire gang, and is the most technologically advanced. Would most likely be depicted as an iPad kid in fan works.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yeah, these are the main characters of my AU. I am currently in the middle of the fourth season and I plan on writing nine. Yeah.

This show at its core is a comedy that sometimes does deep dives on why my characters are the way they are, and challenge the status quo when it comes to the relationship between werewolves and vampires, and attempts to give more depth to the werewolf species of the wwdits universe.

It features an EXPLICITLY and UNASHAMEDLY queer cast of characters who learn how to go through life together as non-humans. Their identities don’t hinder on their arcs (except maybe one but only for a like a few episodes) and we get to see many different dynamics among the group ranging from friends, lovers, enemies, frenemies with benefits… and most important of all, family <3

All of the episodes are available on my ao3 (@our_flag_means_yippee) if you want to take a look! Just search up “What Else We Do In The Shadows” and you’ll be sure to find all seasons 1-4 on there!

Links to the seasons:

Season 1:

Season 2:

Season 3:

Season 4:

[threerattsinatrenchcoat]

A little something for Wyll week :)

Date

Many years had passed since Wyll left his hometown, and while he hadn't planned on returning with horns he was glad to be back. Glad, too, that most people weren't as hostile here as he'd feared they could be, and glad to be sleeping in the finest (cleanest) room in Elfsong, Karlach alive and ready to play cards whenever they weren't needed. He could nearly pretend they weren't gearing up to fight a giant brain. A monster hunter's pinnacle! That was how he would think about it.

Bird song filled the morning air, his tea steamed, Karlach had claimed the table they liked outside and he'd just opened to the crossword when a familiar tickling hit his frontal lobe and a voice like rotten treacle cooed, "Wylly!"

Twenty-four. He didn't answer. He never answered when Mizora used his sending stone. If she wanted an answer, she could talk to him out loud, not through his eye, in a voice that didn't sound like she was trying to cover up poison with honey.

"It's her, isn't it?" Karlach said. "You always get this look like you're going to vomit out of your ears."

"Glad I've finally taught the pup not to jump all over me when I call," Mizora crooned.

Nine. Nine more words until the stone stopped working for the day and she would be out of his brain.

"Today's a special date."

Five. Gods, whatever she was going to say would be awful.

"Why don't you just—" Karlach tapped the side of her eye.

Excellent idea. He popped his eye out and set it on the table, catching a faint, "Happy—" before she was gone. Only four words left in the spell, but they were probably vile.

"She's reminding me that today the anniversary of the day I signed," he explained.

"Really? The day you single-handedly saved the city? That calls for celebration. We should make a day of it! We could buy you an eye. A shut-up eye."

"Or go to the circus again. This time without a deranged clown attack. We could get more makeup and sneak it into Astarion's bag."

"One day he's going to kill us."

"Nah, it's all in good fun. Now, if we put it on him while he was trancing…"

"Wyll. I thought you were a good guy!"

Wyll held up his hands, palms out. "I am! I am."

Karlach picked up the eye and made a face. "Gods, she is so mean in only four words. How do I work this again?"

"You simply think—"

"Fuck you, too!"

"No, you think… wait. I have a better idea."

Wyll took it. He wasn't a musician, but he did currently room with a bard who loved to come up with the most earworm-y diddies and even Mizora had lost her cool over the most recent song. In his thoughts he sang, "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, you know my lodgings, call on me, maybe."

Just to give Mizora something to mull over. Enrichment was very important for devilish contract holders.

Karlach leaned back, looking up at their room. A tenday ago Tav finally hit a breaking point—Tav, of all people!—and turned Mizora to stone. Luckily the spell didn't trigger anything in their contract, which made sense; Mizora was technically still alive and technically able to communicate. "Wanna go dress her up? What would she hate more? Clashing pinks or something that actually covers skin?"

"According to her, I have the worst taste in fashion. So, my clothes."

"Your clothes in pink!"

Wyll could do that. He looked good in pink.

"All of the above, with clown makeup," he suggested.

"It's a date."

[blye-flower]

Hi! OBSESSED with your Demon and Angel au, and have a question! Four, actually. XD

Number One: Why did the boy's become Demons when they fell, and Kendra became a Fallen angel?

Number Two: ...Leo does not seem the type to sit out on a prank that got his bros kicked out? Why was he not present?

Number Three: Why does Kendra hate Donnie, and did Donnie make her fall?

Number Four: Is the fact that boy's became demons at all based on their mutant status, and is their any kind of anti-mutant racism on either side?

Thank you, your au is super cool and I ADORE your designs!!! <3

Oh???? My gosh??? Thank you!!!! I'm really glad you like the AU, it's been really fun fleshing out ^^ (Also AU designs are my bread and butter I absolutely LOVE getting to do them ajdjd) Now, onto your questions!

So the boys becoming demons because they pulled a collective "prank" in heaven that royally fucked stuff up for everyone (lost a couple of saved souls, ruined the structure of everything, just general chaos in heaven) which is a really bad look on them because heaven in the AU is all about structure. So as punishment for their misdeeds, Raph, Mikey and Donnie are kicked out of heaven, and Leo "I'm nothing without my brothers" Hamato has to stay an angel all by his lonesome. So Leo was involved in the joke, he actually spearheaded it, but they kinda know it won't be much of a punishment if they're all together. And because Demons aren't allowed in heaven, if Leo doesn't have an assignment/reason to be on earth, it can take him years to see his brothers. (Though, he does make due, I'm not gonna keep the boys apart, I'm no monster aksjhdd). So it's not anti-mutant racism that causes them to be demons (otherwise, Sunita and Leo wouldn't have such high standing as Principalities).

As for Kendra, she heavily indulged in one of the seven deadly sins (pride, greed, envy, lust, gluttony, sloth, or wrath). In this AU, while it does count against ex-angels, their "fall from grace" doesn't necessarily mean they get kicked out of heaven. They just lost their status and have to prove themselves to get it back. Kendra, unfortunately, indulged in one of the sins (I'm leaving which one up to interpretation, of course, but I do have my personal bias too aksjdk) and became a fallen angel. And yes, Kendra hates Donnie because he did make her fall! Early into his demon days; he treated it as an experiment (as he starts to do up until April), and Kendra holds it against him.

Thank you so much for the questions! I'll take any moment I can to take about this idea since it's been rolling around my frontal lobes so heavy akajdksj