#wait a secon-

[k0kone]

Why do people follow me? I don't want human contact, please leave! You may take a cookie on your way out! They are definetly not spiked with cyanide :)

[sukidude]

a quick sketch involving sword bending, a realization, and zuko being too competitive to notice

[greater-than-the-sword]

God gave you so many chances to obey before punishing you, well he gives you your whole life as a chance to repent so counting to three for a toddler hardly seems like a big deal to me but go off

[pirunika]

manifesting the mc being the one who goes we should stay away from each other @ blade when he continues the hot and cold act and also the subject of fraternization comes up🕯️

[rosicheeks]

bestie we just might need some Murphy selfies … for mental health ☺️

[soft-spooks]

sun n moon song :

[anarcho-mom-unist]

Tragic to see nothing from Tusk or pre-Buckingham-Nicks Fleetwood Mac 💔❤️‍��

[expressionless-fr]

I got... 30 mins.. earlier and embarrassed myself but I'M OLAY 😋💥💥💥 Gonna get that tastey grades I can't let it slide now that I have all chances

[mintmatcha]

Izuku isn't one to have a one night stand.

he considers himself a nice guy-- a good guy. he follows all of the rules: he pays for the first date, kisses on thr secone, waits until the third date to make a move for anything more. everyone he's ever dated has told him that he's sweet, but there's no spark between them.

Which is why it's so strange that he goes home with you before even learning your name. it's bakugo's fault. Or maybe Kirishima's. Whoever fed him those last couple shots and told him to go for you is to blame. he would have never approached you, or kisses you, or gone home with you if it wasn't for that-

(and if he wasn't drunk. he most certainly would have worn a condom. no. he definitely wouldn't have felt how tight and wet you are if it wasn't for that)

[night-raven-tattler]

Can you offer me a nice shirt in this trying time?

Summary: The usual shenanigans leave you with an unwearable shirt. All you can do is ask your friend (?) for help.

Characters: Leona, Jade, Epel, Malleus and GN!Reader (separate, platonic adjacent...?)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and mild panic over the dirty shirt

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Looking at your pathetic expression akin to a kicked puppy while you tried to cover your dirty shirt made Leona burst into laughter, even after you just stepped on his tail

You looked away, flustered, not even wanting to recount the embarassing turn of events that just happened

But you didn't need to; Leona heard it all

He heard you from the other side of the botanical gardens talking with your friends, who started bickering with each other

Things got a bit physical in a playful way, but none of you really expected to shove each other so hard you all crumbled to the ground like a ridiculous domino

And the only thing you could be glad for was that you missed the pile of compost nearby

And now you were in front of him as he quite enjoyed your flustered state

"I wanted to apologise for stepping on your tail, you know. But I changed my mind."

Leona's laughter turned into snickering as he wiped nonexistent tears away from his eyes

"If you don't want me to laugh, then stop acting like a clown."

You stomped your foot, which made Leona look at you

"This is serious! I have no other clean shirt and class is going to start soon. So you can either help me or give me an idea or leave me alone."

Something in Leona's eyes changed at your words: his mocking aura went away slightly, and you could almost hear what he was thinking

Still thinking about class after being dragged in dirt? Damn goody-two-shoes.

"Alright, I'm doing this just this once. But if I catch you play in dirt again, you're on your own, you damn warthog."

Leona put a hand in his pocket, then tapped his foot

To your surprise, the dirt started vanishing from your outfit right away

All you could do was stare at Leona, mouth agape

And he stared right back at you

Until his smile turned into a frown in a secons

"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Just go to your class already."

You just frantically nodded and scurried away from him

...just to return a few seconds later and leave, in fact, a kiss on his cheek

He just stared at you while you awaited any kind of reaction beside his resting tired face

"...Forget what I said about not helping you. Next time I'll shove you into dirt myself."

That reaction seemed to satisfy you enough, as you took your leave right after his threat

『••✎••』

Working at the Mostro Lounge had its ups and downs

Ups: the job is on campus, the place is always looking for workers and it's one of the best paying jobs on campus

Downs: one of your coworkers is Jade, and the other is Floyd

They'd be relatively nice coworkers if they didn't take their sweet time with helping you while enjoying every second of suffering from all living creatures

Like they did when you tripped on your way to a client and spilled the drink on yourself

They just watched for a few seconds how you panicked over the dirty shirt and the irritated customer

Jade came and dragged you away a few seconds too late for your liking while Floyd started on another drink against his will

You had no idea why Jade led you to the Lounge's changing room, but his smile did not calm you down at all

After all, Jade was very talented at everything except of being reassuring

He left you on your own for a few seconds, coming back with a new uniform shirt, which he handed to you

"This is a replacement for your dirty shirt. Please get changed so you can resume your duties."

You stared at Jade suspiciously

Was he handing you a shirt just like that?

He accepted your silent confusion for a few more seconds before his smile widened, showing his teeth

"What is the problem, Reader? Perhaps you require my assistance with getting changed?"

No matter how hard you frowned at him, the blush was not making your disdain too effective

"What? No! That's not it!"

"...So you're saying you would not refuse my services if that were to be the case?"

"I- no! Ugh!"

Even while you hid your face in the shirt you knew he was still giving you that annoying grin

"You're saying I can just change into this? Without any payment or punishment?"

Jade gasped and put a hand over his chest, feigning offense

"What an incredulous accusation, Reader. I can assure you that no consequences will follow you needing another shirt for the remainder of your shift."

"..."

"..."

"...Are you sure?"

"Certainly."

You knew better than to trust any of the tweels, but you supposed you'll cross that bridge when you got to it

Besides, being MIA on your shift might make Azul take thaumarks out of your paycheck, and you didn't need to manifest that kind of outcome

"Fine, I'll take it. Please leave so I can change."

"As you wish."

So he left you in the empty changing room, a hint of a blush still on your face

You knew getting revenge on any student at NRC was a bad idea, but you couldn't help but imagine "accidentally" spilling some cherry juice on Jade's dorm uniform

『••✎••』

Cleaning duty in the library was not fun, but at least Epel knew how to make things entertaining

He wasn't a comedian or anything like that, but his Vil-themed tirades were always animated and gossipy enough that they had you hooked on his every word

Or every word that you could understand, at least

And a complaining storytelling Epel is not the most careful Epel

So you were not too surprised when he spilled some ink on your sleeves

"Hey, my shirt! You spilled ink on me!"

Epel noticed the big stains and his eyes widened

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"What am I gonna do?! I have no clean laundry today!"

While you were frantically pacing around, Epel was staring at the floor, not being able to meet your eyes

"Hey, come on... It's not that bad. See, it's just a small stain!"

The death glare you threw his way rivaled Vil's, and Epel took a step back instinctively

"Okay, okay! I get it, let me think..."

A few seconds of contemplation later, Epel went to the window and looked outside

"Hey, Vil is having a club meeting outside right now. He must have a stain stick or a spell or something."

"What about cleaning duty?"

"Just go deal with your shirt and come back when it's clean. I'll put away all the old ink in the meantime."

After Epel's convincing, you relented

But now you had the perfect opportunity to show off your newly aquired NRC thirst for revenge...

Let's just say that Vil was very thankful you told him about Epel's attitude towards your stain while he dealt with it....

Epel did not talk to you the next day

Except for that time during lunch when he came towards you with a bitter expression and some comically overfilled pockets

When he got next to you, he shoved his hand into one of his pockets and, with difficulty, pulled out 5 stain pens

"I hate you."

That was all he said before walking away

『••✎••』

During your days as an NRC student you've learned a lot of things, including facts about the weather

1: The weather will always be nice on the date of the monthly scarabinelle debates in the courtyard

2: The statue of the King of the Underworld from the courtyard never got wet from rain

3: Unlike his statue, you were not waterproof

Neither was your shirt

So by the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, you were soaking wet

You marveled at your misfortune right as Malleus entered the room through the Diasomnia mirror

His mild surprise from bumping into you made him almost not notice your predicament

"...Child of man? What happened to you?"

You sighed and told him you were caught in the rain, but you had no clean change of clothes and were feeling pretty cold already

"Hm. This can't do. Humans are very fragile creatures, a simple soak can leave lasting effects on your body.

Malleus seemed to fall deep in thought, as if he was presented with an incredible puzzle, and not the random misfortune of a friend

He nodded to himself, and you were curious to know the conclusion he reached

"Allow me to help you."

You sighed of relief at his decision

Out of everyone on campus, you trusted Malleus to be genuine and helpful, so you accepted his help

You didn't think much of it when he pulled out his magical pen from his pocket; you figured he was just going to use a small drying spell

Boy were you wrong.

Malleus rotated his pen slightly in the air, creating an ever growing wind

The speed and intensity of it grew very fast, and you had to grab onto a pillar to hold yourself in place

You watched in horror how a few students were pushed by the wind back into their mirrors as soon as they entered the Hall of Mirrors

You couldn't even attempt to do any damage control, since the wind was too loud for your voice to be heard

After what felt like forever, Malleus' wind started to dwindle and your feet were able to be on the ground again

"That... That certainly was a method of helping."

"Well? Was it successful? You seem pretty dry to me."

He smiled proudly at you

It was obvious how he knew that he did a good job and he was simply awaiting your praise

You patted down your uniform, and were surprised to notice your uniform was, indeed, dry

"...Yeah, actually. Thanks!"

"You are very welcome."

His smug words were carried by his confident grin as he proudly marched away from you and out of the room

The whole interaction was definitely weird, so you couldn't help but share it over lunch with your friends, Ace and Deuce

After you shared Malleus' small drying machine job, Ace started laughing at you, while Deuce put a hand on your shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face

『••✎••』

[theblackcubeofdarkness]

It looked at me with all eight of their big round eyes and let out a cute little whimper. Oh, wait. I just remembered that Michi is a curse-type horror. The horror type that is the natural predator of any darkness-related beings. I also remember how they managed to take on the amalgamation of the horror of millions with absolutely no fear. That amalgamation has been mysteriously missing for a while now.... um, oops and sorry.

- @ask-prof-h

"Wait... your describing a spider... I LOVE SPIDERS!!!"

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞

Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.3k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Pregnant!Reader, innuendos, Kenji’s dirty thots 🙄, handjob, Sub!Ken, mentions of come eating

��𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your midnight cravings turn into something more than Kenji bargained for

Kenji woke up to the soft sound of your voice as you gently shook him awake. For a moment, he felt disoriented, and his mind was still foggy from sleep. But then he turned to face you, the familiarity of your scent anchored him.

The room was dark, the late hours casting soft shadows over your features. He could just about make out your facial features, the crinkle in your brows and your mouth slightly open.

“I’m thirsty,” you said. Kenji rubbed the sleep from his eyes and let out a yawn as he tried to fully wake up. He was still out of it, but he managed to process what you said.

“Water, right?” he guessed, his voice still thick with sleep as he sat up and pushed the blanket off.

His body still craved the warmth of the blanket, but your request pulled him out of that comfort. Even half-asleep, he still couldn’t ignore you.

He let out another yawn before he ran a hand through his unruly hair— a reflexive attempt to wake himself up more.

“But I don’t want water. I want a lemon popsicle,” you replied firmly.

Kenji blinked at you, the request slowly processing in his tired brain. You couldn’t be serious. A popsicle at this time of the night?

He gave you a dumbfounded look, searching for any signs to see if you were joking. But the pout and the stern look in your eyes told you weren’t bluffing.

He sighed, realising it was one of those pregnancy cravings— unpredictable, sometimes inconvenient. But he knew not to ignore them.

He should’ve expected it with you being five months pregnant. He heard stories from others but experiencing it first hand was something else entirely.

“Why?” he asked, partly in an attempt to stall, hoping you might change your mind.

“It’s more refreshing,” Kenji rolled his eyes, though he had to admit, it was amusing hearing your reasoning. It was one of the quirks he was slowly growing into, even if it was a little exasperated sometimes.

“Can’t I just get you some lemonade,” he suggested even though he knew that it would be pointless to ask.

“No, I want a popsicle,” you repeated, leaving no room for negotiation.

Typical, he thought. Though he knew you beat him in his reasoning.

“Alright, alright. You want a popsicle? I’ll get you one.” As much as he preferred to stay in bed, he knew this would all be worth it at the end— he would do anything to keep you and the baby satisfied.

He turned to leave the room, his feet dragging slightly as he padded to the kitchen. Tiredness still seeped in his bones, making his steps feel heavier and his movements slow.

He opened the freezer, the cold air hitting his face as he squinted against the brightness. The light from the freezer felt sharper against the surrounding darkness.

He began rummaging around the drawers until, finally, he found the damn lemon popsicle. With a sense of triumph, he pulled it out and headed back to the room.

When he returned, he found you sitting up against the headboard, waiting patiently for the popsicle. Kenji carefully unwrapped the popsicle, the crinkling of the wrapper was loud against the quiet room. He handed it to you to take.

“Here…” he said softly, masking the yawn threatening to escape.

He didn’t want you to feel guilty for waking him. Though it was a little irritating that you were awake at this hour, it wasn’t good for you— or the baby— to be up when you should be sleeping.

“Ahhh, thank you.” You beamed, taking the treat from his hand.

The smile was as bright as Christmas morning. It gave him a new source of energy through his heart. He’d move mountains, even wake up in the middle of the night, just to see you smile up at him like that.

Without waiting another second, you wrapped your lips around the cold treat, savouring the taste with a contented sigh.

Kenji’s eyes locked on the popsicle in your mouth, watching you as you sucked the flavour out of it, the slight crack as your teeth grazed the surface.

He caught himself staring, his thoughts teetering on the edge of dangerous territory. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, clearing his throat to regain his composure.

“That good, huh?” he teased, though he couldn’t hide the slight strain in his voice. His eyes flickered between your blissful face and the popsicle you were feasting on.

It was hard to ignore the growing desire within him, the way his mind kept drifting to dirty thoughts. He forced himself to shift his focus to something else, hoping he could distract himself.

“Can I take your attention off the popsicle for a moment? There’s something I wanted to talk about,” he asked.

But you didn’t seem to catch what he said, eyes closed and too busy relishing the popsicle, each suck and lick sending a shiver down his spine. It was pathetic, but a small part of him actually envied the damn popsicle in your hand.

He shook his head and teared his gaze away before he took a deep breath to steady himself. He needed to stay on topic. “Can you just look at me, please? I want to ask you something…”

Finally, you look back up at him. Your lips were slightly wet from when you were liking the juice off of them.

The raw sight of you, combined with the lemon scent in the air, made his thoughts spiral. He could only imagine how sweet and zesty you would taste if he kissed you right now.

Kenji swallows thickly, pushing the thought aside. “There we go. Now, I have your undivided attention,” he managed to crack a smile at you. “You know how excited I’ve been since we found out about the baby, right? I can’t wait to be a dad. But there’s one thing that’s been on my mind.”

“What?” you asked, but before he could answer you, you shifted your gaze away and started licking the popsicle again— slow and deliberate. At least he knew you were listening— sort of.

Kenji paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he asked, “Have you thought of any baby names? We haven’t discussed it yet and I want to know what you think.”

You didn’t respond right away. Instead you sucking the melted juice that dripped down to the base of the popsicle. You seemed more interested in the frozen treat than the conversation.

Kenji gave you an incredulous look, though he couldn’t help but be a little amused.

The way your lips wrapped around it and the soft sound of your tongue sliding against the icy surface…it was far more distracting than he anticipated. You were savouring every bite, each one slower than the last, and it was driving him a little crazy.

Kenji coughed, trying to cover up the fact that he had been staring. “Try and focus. I know you’re enjoying the popsicle, but I need an answer,” he pressed on, though he was really trying to convince himself more than you.

“No I haven’t,” you said simply, your tongue swirling around the tip of the popsicle again.

Kenji couldn’t hide his disappointment. This was something he wanted to take seriously, especially since this was your first child together. “Really? You haven’t given any thought to the baby’s name?” He sighed, a little exasperated. “I thought you’d at least have some ideas,”

“Not really,” you said, still focused on the popsicle, sucking the flavour from the side with hypnotic concentration.

Kenji figured that now would be the perfect time to discuss the topic— the atmosphere was calm, and you were in a good mood. But it seemed that you weren’t as fully engaged in the conversation as he hoped.

“You really are depriving me of brainstorming all these precious names for our baby…” Kenji chuckled. “You know how much I love the idea of picking out the perfect name for our little bundle of joy,”

“We still have time,”

Another lick.

“Yeah, we do. But the sooner we decide on a name, the better,”

Kenj frowned as he realised he was losing you again, like he was just a blur in the background. But watching the way you continue to devour the popsicle with innocent enthusiasm was enough to forget about his disappointment.

The feeling was replaced with something else, something hard to ignore. He could feel the effect it was having in his body.

All he could do was watch— it woke a feeling inside him that he couldn’t fight back anymore. But what really put him on the edge was the soft moan that slipped from your lips, a sound so low and satisfied it sent a jolt of electricity through him.

He felt a flush of heat creep up his neck, spreading across his body like a wildfire. There was no way you were that oblivious to what you were doing to him, was there?

For a moment, he thought about saying something, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he decided to wait until you were finished, even if it was killing him inside.

He could feel his nails digging into his palms as his fists clenched by his sides, trying to anchor himself in place. He didn’t realise the sticky heat that pooled between his legs until he felt his boxers grow tighter.

Crap…

This couldn’t be happening…not now.

This wasn’t even distracting anymore— it was torturous. The effect you had on him was more intense than he anticipated.

He mentally scolded himself for standing there, watching you— he should’ve gone to bed straight after so he didn’t have to witness you and put himself in a predicament.

Finally, you finished the damn frozen treat, and Kenji seized the opportunity to step in. He stepped closer until he was right in front of you. Leaning in, he soft breath ghosted over your lips as you met his gaze

“Are you doing that on purpose?” He mumbled, a tint of irritation in his voice that he couldn’t suppress.

“Huh?” You looked perplexed, but Kenji couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if you were playing dumb.

“Don’t act so coy,” he muttered, his voice rougher now. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Your eyes dropped to his groin and he could see the gears turning in your head— the slow realisation seeping into your features.

“Oh…” you looked back up and gaped at him.

“Yeah…oh…” he mocked your tone with exasperation, crossing his arms over his chest.

He didn’t expect his bulge to look so visible under his trousers, but it was a relief that you weren’t so clueless anymore. Though, it didn’t do much to cool the fire burning in him.

“Sorry,” you offered meekly.

You don’t sound very sorry.

You don’t sound like you regretted anything.

He let out a huff, still trying to maintain some semblance of control. Part of him was still pissed at how you'd been acting, but he was so incredibly hard for you that he couldn't stop himself from wanting you.

Kenji forced himself to tear his gaze away, reminding himself that you weren’t supposed to be awake. The logical side of him was screaming to let it go and focus on getting you back to sleep. It took every fiber of him to fight off the desire to take you— he knew you must’ve been sleepy.

But it was a losing battle, and the way you were looking at him only made it worse. He couldn't overlook his swollen cock attacking the front of his pants, seeking freedom from his clothes.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight, okay? I don’t want you to overexert yourself,” he said, trying to sound firm. He could only imagine how much precum was already starting to leak.

“I can use my hands,” you whispered. It was like dangling a matchstick near a powder keg.

His heart rate spiked as he halted at your words. The logical side of his head was struggling to keep control as every pulse in his body throbbed with need— his cock twitched painfully under his pants.

“N-no.” He stuttered, still shifting awkwardly in his place. Your offer was so tempting, but he could’ve give in. You needed rest.

“But I want to take care of you,” you insisted.

“I know you do but you need rest.” He said firmly. The conviction in his voice was barely holding on by a thread

However, his resistance shattered the moment you reached out to touch his jaw.

Your touch was firing, sending shivers down his spine as your hands gently traced the line of his jaw and moved to stroke his cheeks.

That’s cheating…

“Stop…” he protested weakly, but his words didn’t reach his head. His body longed for your touch and he knew that he would be frustrated throughout the night if he refused your offer.

“Just a quickie.”

He would’ve refused if he hadn’t felt his tip rub against the fabric of his boxers. But the alarmingly pleasurable sensation along with your soft voice was impossible to ignore.

The next moment felt like a blur and Kenji found himself perched on the bed, bare. His cock was standing upright, twitching and begging to be touched. The precum that already leaked from the tip only exposed his predicament even more.

“Please…please…” Kenji couldn’t mask the desperation in his voice as he looked at you with desperate eyes.

The corner of your lips tugged up in amusement as you heard his tone, the power shift between the two of you was more pronounced than ever. You had him wrapped around your fingers so easily.

“Are you begging now?” you teased, your voice soft yet dripping with a bit of mockery. A quiet chuckle leaving your lips as you leaned in closer. He could feel the ghost of your hands hovering over his dick and it was driving him insane.

At this point, Kenji didn’t care how desperate he looked, or how quickly the tables had turned against him. All he could focus on was feeling more of you, even having you close, erasing the distance between the two of you.

“I’m…not begging,” he protested weakly, though his words fell flat. You both knew he was lying, his tone betraying him with every word.

His breath was shallow and his heart hammered in his chest, denial sounded almost absurd. He wouldn’t have minded if you called him a beggar— he’d wear the title proudly if it meant you’d give in and let him indulge in you.

You tilted your head slightly, observing his reaction with a knowing smile— a look you were aware would send another shiver through his body. His eyes met yours, wide and pleading— a failed attempt at grasping onto his dignity.

“Don’t look at me like that…” his voice sounded more like a plea than he intended.

“Like what, hm?” you asked, acting clueless. But the dark glint in your eyes gave away to your intentions. The way you watched him only made his dick twitch more and you relished the effect you were having on him.

Your fingers wrapped around his length— your touch was like fire. Kenji had to clamp his onto lower with his teeth to suppress the guttural moan that erupted from his throat.

His cock reacted with more precum beading from his tip. It was a huge relief to finally feel your touch where his body had been desperately screaming for.

But the feeling didn’t last long when you didn’t move your hand for a while and he was starting to grow impatient.

Through gritted teeth, he managed to bring himself to speak, “Please, just…”

“Just what, Kenji? Use your words,”

He could feel his sanity teetering the longer you stalled. “You know what I want!”

His entire being wound tight, the tension knotted further and it was obvious that you could see how much he was aching for you.

But you still didn’t give him what he wanted. Not yet. “Do I? Because it sounds like you’re not sure yourself,”

He grunted your name in frustration, but he knew deep down that he was enjoying this just as much as you were. If his pride hadn’t crumbled before, it definitely had now. “I need you…to move your hand on my…”

His sentence was cut short when you started stroking his dick with slow precision, putting slight pressure on the sensitive skin.

“That’s more like it,”

He made no effort to hide the sounds that escaped his mouth uncontrollably. His moans and whines came out as a broken symphony. The delicious friction from your palms was dizzying.

His body was taut with his muscles trembling. You lightly squeezed the tip with your thumb and forefinger and his hips jerked in response to the sudden sensation. A strangled moan escaped his mouth.

Blood rushed to his ears as he felt his senses getting lost in the haze.

He reached his peak quicker than he anticipated. His orgasm tore through his body that suddenly came as a shock to him.

He let out another loud moan, the bliss completely overwhelming him. His release spilled down your knuckles as you kept stroking him, riding out his high.

His mind was hazy and it took him a few short breaths to come down from his high and simmer down from the afterglow.

“Crap…I didn’t mean to go so quickly. I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his face burning a little from embarrassment as he looked at you and saw his fresh hot mess over your hands.

He couldn’t believe how quickly he lost control, even though he had no resistance at all the moment you started to palm him.

You let out a soft laugh, clearly amused by the situation you both were in now.

“D-don’t laugh at me,” he mumbled, still embarrassed by the mess on your hands. Kenji leaned back against the headboard, his deflated length resting against his thigh.

His body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure, his mind still floating in a blissful trance.

“Do you think licking this off will be bad for the baby?” Your voice jolted him back to reality. He looked back at you and saw his release still glistening on your hands.

His heart, that had just begun to slow down, stuttered back to a fast rhythm. He couldn’t believe your words, and the nonchalance in your tone only made it worse.

“I…can’t believe you just said that so casually…” his voice was a mixture of amusement and shock.

“What?” You gave him a look that was both innocent and self-aware. “You know I’d swallow your load any day of the week,”

Kenji straightened himself up on the bed, letting out a shaky breath. He tried to shake off the daze that still lingered. The sight of you, the raw sound of your bedroom voice— it was tempting him to lose himself in you all over again.

But his gaze fell on your belly that housed you unborn child. The reminder that you were pregnant was enough to keep his hormones in check and reel in his desires.

“Yeah…I know you would,” he finally replied as let out a shaky breath, “But I don’t want you to do that now…I don’t want you to risk the baby’s health,”

You nodded in agreement, your teasing replaced with understanding.

“You’re right. I’ll go wash my hands,”

Kenji watched as you got up and left the room. Even in the afterglow, when his mind was still foggy from his release, the protective instinct was stronger than his labido.

When you returned to bed, Kenji quickly grasped your hand to pull you in so close, you were nose-to-nose. He made sure your eyes were on him.

“Don’t think this is over, by the way,” his voice was low and sultry. “I’ll get you back for teasing me…soon.”

You chuckled, your breath mingling with his— your voice dropped to match his. “I’ll be waiting…”

My mother used to crave lemon popsicle when she was pregnant. Is it bad I’m using that as inspo 23 years later lmao??

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @rosaliin-blog @bloosnothere @nina-from-317 @ivvieene @bobbeshwar

@ichkyu @gyusimp

[mead-iocre]

Run | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: you are walking home alone at night. someone is following you. Read more of the Butter's Meadio-cre Mayhem (the Spooky Season collection) here

warnings: a little darker than what i usually write

wc: 2.5k words

The evening air was crisp, lingering sounds of the city winding down for the night. Street lights flickered as you and the girls stepped out of the restaurant. You were all slightly tipsy, bellies full of authentic Italian pasta and vintage French wine. Being a good friend, you waited with them for their uber to come pick them up. Your flat was only a short walk away from the restaurant, so after exchanging goodbyes and making promises to meet up again soon, you watched as they got driven away until the taillights were merely specs of light blinking in the distance.

The night was cool, and the city streets felt empty, save for the occasional hum of a passing car. You always enjoyed walking home after a good meal, and London at night time was usually good company. It was serene, and peaceful. Such a contrast to the hustle and bustle of the usual mornings. You didn’t have to worry about tourists who walked too slow, or mothers and their massive pushchairs taking over the entire pavement. 

You passed through the park, a quick shortcut, passing by a few people with tired, weary faces probably on their way home from work. Soon enough you reach the rows of residential streets, so close to home that you could almost taste the leftover tupperwares of garlic parmesen chicken wings from wingstop in the refrigerator.

You wrapped your coat tighter against yourself and started walking, your boots tapping lightly against the concrete. It was the only sound you could hear. The quiet of the evening settled around you like a blanket in a way that was comforting almost. But soon something pierced that calm—a second set of footsteps.

They were faint at first, almost blending with your own. You noticed it earlier but you figured it must just be someone else making their way home. Taking your phone out of your coat pocket, you check the time to see that it was nearing 11 pm. Surely you weren’t the only one walking home from a night out or a date night in the city. But you couldn’t help but take notice of the footsteps. Curiously, you slowed down your pace, pretending to fiddle with your phone while conspicuously checking your peripheral to see if you could make out the owner of the footsteps. 

Your heart dropped when you noticed they slowed too. 

It was just a coincidence.

Surely.

It had to be.

But when you sped up again, the footsteps followed suit, quickening in lockstep. Your pulse throbbed in your ears. Feeling brave, you stole a glance behind you.

A figure was walking several paces back, draped in a dark jacket, dark trousers, and their face was hidden beneath a hood. They were tall in stature, broad shoulders, long legs. Most likely male. They were strolling towards you, without a care in the world, just a few metres away, with both of their hands hidden in their trouser pockets. Panic fluttered in your chest. You’ve been listening to far too many true crime podcasts to know that right now you were the perfect victim for anyone with cruel intentions. Stories of young, vulnerable women walking alone at night, only to end up missing– or worse dead– flood your mind. You looked away and picked up your pace, your heart beating faster now. But the footsteps behind you only grew louder. 

Closer.

Your stomach knotted with dread. Someone was definitely following you.

You could hear him a lot clearer behind you now—a faint, steady rhythm of footsteps growing louder with each second. He wasn’t rushing, just matching your pace, like he was toying with you. Like this was just some sort of sick, twisted joke to them. The sound made your skin crawl, icy terror flooding your veins. You didn't dare look back now.

With shaky hands, you hunch over your phone, finger hovering over your emergency contact for a second before you press the call button without further hesitation. You hoped training was over by now.

The phone rang twice before she picked up. 

“Hey, baby. How was dinner with the girls? Are you on your way home?” Leah’s voice was light. She had training today in preparation for an upcoming match later that week. However, she had been coming home a lot later than usual because they had meetings after training.

“Yeah, just left actually” You said, eyes flickering nervously over your shoulder. You couldn’t see much thanks to the lack of lamp posts in this particular street. “I’m walking home now…” 

There was a pause on the other end. “What’s going on, baby? You sound…weird”

Your throat tightened. Swallowing the best you can, you quickened your pace as the sound of steps behind you suddenly became more pronounced. Trying to force yourself to focus on Leah’s familiar voice on the other end of the phone, you press the phone closer to your ear, as if it could save you from the fear overtaking your body. “I think someone’s following me” 

A rustle was heard on the other end, a few inaudible shouting and yells before Leah’s voice came back, this time there was a harshness to her tone. “Where are you? I’ll come get you”

“Lee, I'm probably just being paranoid. I don’t know, maybe they just happen to be walking in the same direction as me” But you were starting to doubt that was the case. You could still hear his steps behind you and you doubt it was a coincidence at this point. 

Nearing the end of the street, you turn your head from side to side before crossing. What was usually a welcoming and familiar street in the mornings, is now eerily unassuming at night time. There was only one lamppost on the other side of the street, the light dim as if it could go out at any second. Most of the houses along the street had their lights off, probably already in the safety of their own warm beds. You, on the other hand, are alone and cold. 

“Baby, tell me where you are. I’m in the car now” You hear the distinct click of the car key, some more shuffling. The sound of Leah's car rumbling to life does little to comfort you but at least she was nearly there. The training grounds was only about a 20 minute drive away from where you were. 

She’ll be here soon, you tell yourself. 

You glance around at the dark street ahead, cursing the lack of shops and street lights, you try to steady your voice. “I’m only less than 10 minutes away from home. I’ll be fine. I think—”

Your sentence was cut off by the sharp sound of footsteps picking up behind you, a lot closer than you realised. He wasn't matching your pace anymore. He didn’t care if you noticed him following you. You spun around, heart leaping into your throat. You turned, and a dark figure was walking faster, closing the gap.

“Leah,” You walked briskly, more hurried. Your voice trembled, just barely above a whisper. “They’re getting closer.”

“Baby, listen to me—run. Don’t look back, just run. I’m on my way.”

You did not have to be told twice. You broke into a run, your boots thumping against the pavement. You wanted to cry, tears were already welling in your eyes, but the blurriness would only slow you down. 

Sprinting down the narrow, dimly lit street, your breath came in short, ragged gasps. The night air is heavy and still, a thick fog rolling in, muffling the distant sounds of the rest of the city. Old brick houses loom tall on either side, their windows dark and unwelcoming. 

The only light sources are the light illuminating from your phone screen and a few street lights that flicker erratically, casting long, distorted shadows along the pavement. Every step you take seems to echo unnaturally loud, the silence only amplifying your fear. The cold air clings to your skin, biting at your face. 

You risk a glance behind you, your pulse racing as you glance over her shoulder, but there's nothing there. Nothing you can see. You falter slightly, almost tripping on your own two feet. Is he gone?

Turning your head left and right, you look around you. As if the figure was going to pop out at any second to come get you. 

But you’ve watched enough horror movies to know that the character who lets the monsters catch up to them always dies next. Without wasting another second, you continue on running. The next street up ahead is your street. Home. 

Home is close. But the street seems to stretch on endlessly, like some cruel trick. Your heartbeat is deafening, and mind races, whispering doubts. Did you take the wrong turn? Are you still being followed? The wind picks up, rustling through the trees lining the road, but it sounds more like distant whispers, low and unsettling.

Your footsteps quicken, almost stumbling now, each stride feeling more desperate than the last. There's a faint noise—a creak, or maybe a footstep—in the darkness behind you, but this time you don’t dare stop to check. You are almost home. Almost safe. But they always say that at night, safety feels like an illusion, just out of reach.

Because that’s when you hear it again. 

Footsteps. 

This time they were loud. Like the person was right behind you, ready to grab you at any second. You started running again. Your breath came in ragged gasps, heart pounding so loud it drowned out the soft thud of your boots stopping on the rain-slicked pavement. The streets were still unnervingly quiet.

Your feet slapped the pavement harder as you veered onto the last alley. Shadows stretched and warped along the brick walls, twisted shapes that seemed to move in your peripheral. Stumbling over the uneven ground, your boot catching the edge of the pavement,  just barely catching yourself before tumbling forward. Your hands scraped against the rough wall, but the sting of fresh cuts did nothing to distract you from the mounting fear.

The footfalls behind you never faltered.

The houses, with their shuttered windows and dark facades, loomed like silent witnesses, indifferent to your panic. You were so close now—just a few more houses down and you’d be home. But your legs felt leaden, each step heavier than the last, like you were being dragged down by something. 

But you weren't going to stop now. Not when you were so close to home. You grit your teeth, running as fast as you could. 

The stranger’s pace behind you thundered in response, chasing, closing the gap. You darted into a side street, your breath ragged, pulse hammering in your throat. You didn’t dare look back again, didn’t dare stop. Your feet hit the ground in a desperate rhythm, mind racing, trying to think of what to do next.

Suddenly, you felt it—hands. Grabbing you from behind, pulling you back.

You screamed, but the sound was ripped from your throat as you were spun around, your back slamming into a cold, rough brick wall. You braced yourself for the worst, expecting a stranger’s cruel eyes, but—

“Baby! Hey, it’s me!”

Leah’s voice cut through the panic. Your girlfriend stood there, her ponytail wonky, still dressed in her training kit, blue eyes wide with alarm. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her face flushed, like would after playing on the pitch for the full 90 minutes. She let go of your arms, stepping back quickly as if he’d just realised the terror she had caused you. 

Leah.

It was only Leah.

You blinked, still trembling, trying to process the sudden shift from blind fear to relief. “Leah? What the fuck— it was you running behind me?”

“I wasn’t trying to scare you!” she stammered, running a hand through her dishevelled hair. “I saw you crossing the street. I called your name, but you didn’t hear me, and then… when you ran, I just… I panicked and ran after you.”

You just stared at her, heart still thudding in your chest. Your mind was reeling, trying to calm the panic that hadn’t yet subsided. "You were following me," your muttered, still dazed. "I thought—"

“I know,” Leah interrupted, her voice softer now, guilty seeping through. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You exhaled shakily, leaning against the alley wall. The adrenaline was still pulsing through your veins, and your body refused to relax. "I was so fucking scared." You confessed, visibly shuddering, knees going weak. "I thought I was being chased by some fucking creep."

Leah’s face fell, a frown forming, guilt etched across her features. She cupped your cheek, pulling you close, the warmth of her palm providing much needed comfort. She gently kissed the crown of your head, tucking your face in the crook of her neck.  "I am so sorry, baby. I’ll try to shout louder next time, and yell out my name or something. I promise."

You forced a chuckle, your breath fanning her neck. Although a part of you still felt uneasy, like you hadn’t quite shaken off the fear completely. For a moment longer, you revelled in her warmth and the safety of her embrace. But truthfully you just wanted to forget it even happened. You press a kiss against the side of her neck, reluctantly pulling away. "Let’s just go home."

Stepping out of the dark corner of the street together, and back into the glow of the streetlights, your heart began to slow. but  you still kept a tight grip on Leah’s hand. She’s got her arm over your shoulder as you huddled into her side, and her other hand was occupied by your own. To strangers you both probably looked ridiculous walking like that, sticking so closely to each other, like you were glued together. But you did not care. You would’ve asked Leah to carry you in her arms if you could muster the courage to do so.  

As you walked towards home, the sounds of the city returned, a few cars passing by, distant voices drifting in the wind. But something still tugged at you, an odd prickling at the back of your neck. The one you get when something doesn't feel right. 

You couldn’t help, but glance behind you again.

For a brief moment, you thought you saw something—movement, a shadow darting back into the side of the street. Your breath caught. The dark shape of a figure melted into the blackness just as quickly as you saw it, like it had been there the whole time, watching.

Stopping in your tracks, you turn to Leah, your skin crawling. You scratch at your arm, feeling goosebumps along your skin. "Did you see that?"

She looked over her shoulder, frowning. "See what, baby?"

"There was—" You hesitated, squinting into the shadows. It was so, so dark. But you could just about make out an empty street. Nothing but the distant murmur of cars driving past filled the air.

You shook your head, feeling a shiver creep up your spine. “Nothing. Must’ve been my imagination.”

Leah smiled, oblivious, and tugged on your hand gently. "Come on, let’s get you home. You’ve had enough scares for one night."

You nodded slowly, but as you  walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still being watched. The footsteps from earlier still echoed in your ears. You glanced back once more back 

And for a split second, you could swear you saw something move. A figure, just at the edge of the shadows where the blinking street light lamp could not reach. Someone was still watching you.

(had to repost this because it was not showing up in the tags even after 24 hours for some reason)

first story in the butter's meadio-cre mayhem (the spooky season collection). the rest of the stories will not be as spooky as this one but they will be halloween/fall season themed! i thought it's only appropriate to have at least one spooky-ish story in this collection <3333

comments and reactions appreciated!

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[earlycuntsets]

"DEATH COMES RIPPING" - SPOOKY ISSUE

'THE BLACK PARADE, THE TRIUMPHANT NEW ALBUM BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE MAY HAVE A TRAGIC STORYLINE, BUT IT'S NOTHING COMPARED WITH WHAT THE BANDMATES ENDURED TO BRING THE DISC TO LIGHT

PHOTOS BY JON WIEDERHORN PHOTOS BY JUSTIN BORUCKI

STANDING ON A BALCONY nine floors above the teeming streets of New York, Gerard Way overlooks the city in which My Chemical Romance began assembling their ambitious new album, The Black Parade. The newly peroxide- blond frontman takes a deep drag from a cigarette and exhales with a sigh. He knows he shouldn't smoke, but it's his only remaining vice.

"If I hadn't been sober, I think The Black Parade surely would have killed me," says Gerard, who climbed on the wagon in 2004. "We were going insane the whole time, and I had to cling to my sobriety to stay even a little lucid. The album became like this beast that was consuming us."

Following up a release as successful as 2004's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, which sold 1.4 million copies in the U.S. alone, is never an easy task. And the various scares the band experienced as they worked on the new record-drummer Bob Bryar had a near-fatal staph infection, Gerard seriously injured his foot, and some restless spirits at the studio where they recorded kept them all on edge-did not help matters. And neither

did MCR's decision to make The Black Parade (Reprise) a concept disc. Together, Gerard and his bandmates-Bryar, guitarists Frank lero and Ray Toro, and bassist Mikey Way (Gerard's younger brother)-decided to craft a record about a dying young man who is visited by a cast of strange characters that help him examine his short life.

But diving into the conceptual deep end proved well worth the hassle. The Black Parade is not only MCR's most realized offering; it's also one of the most eclectic, enjoyable rock records of the year. One listen to tracks

like "House of Wolves," "The Sharpest Lives," and "Dead!" makes it clear that My Chemical Romance can still rip a good metallic punk tune. But the bandmates are now equally influenced by epic albums like Pink Floyd's The Wall, David Bowie's The Rise & Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, and Queen's A Night at the Opera.

"A lot of bands from the scene we came from try to strip down their music to 'keep it real," Gerard notes. "But the real you is what you've always had inside you and what you strive to be. So when we started compiling the material we had written, we were like, You know what? This has to be a huge, theatrical record."

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE started working on ideas for The Black Parade in the back of the bus while on 2005's Warped Tour, after which they flew to New York and rented a rehearsal space for two months. And that's when things started to get weird.

"I was living in Queens, and I had to commute on the subway every day," Gerard says. "I was suddenly very scared and paranoid. I felt more like an outsider than I ever had, and I had no confidence, which is bad when you're trying to work on a record. And I had no anonymity because there were a lot of teenagers on the train." In reaction to the young fans he encountered on the underground,

Gerard wrote "Teenagers," a T. Rex-style romp with the chorus line, "Teenagers scare the living shit out of me." "The song came directly from commuting when school let out and being so terrified of them," the singer says. "I was like, Wait a minute. These are the same people that listen to our band. Why am I scared? And I realized it was because they're scared, too. Teenagers are made to feel like they can only solve their problems with violence. They lash out at each other in a really volatile way." After several months experiencing the joys of mass transit, MCR had completed only a handful of songs and felt like a change of scenery (and climate) might do them some good. "I couldn't keep working in New York," says Gerard. "We wanted isolation."

id: Gerard leads the way to what will likely be the band's second platinum record

So the group relocated to Paramour Mansion, outside of L.A. Nestled high in the hills, the deluxe estate overlooks the trendy Silver Lake area and boasts spacious rooms, a gorgeous pool, lush gardens, a state-of-the-art recording facility-and a few special guests.

"The place is definitely haunted," Gerard says. "Doors would slam, and the faucets would turn on. You'd get a bath drawn for you of freezing-cold water in your room, and you wouldn't know why." As unnerving as its mischievous spirits could be, the Paramour was also inspiring, and contributed to the haunting vibe of songs like "The End" and "This Is How I Disappear." More important, it led Gerard to come up with the bleak, surreal concept for the record. "I would have these night terrors, where it would feel like someone was choking me, and my heart would stop and I would stop breathing," he says. "I would wake up in the middle of the night and write these notes to myself, and one of them read, 'We are all just a black parade.' So I started thinking about how this band is kind of a black parade, like a funeral-procession rock thing. And I used that idea to piece together this story about the idea that when you die, death comes for you however you want." Gerard molded his concept into a narrative about a character he dubbed the Patient, whose strongest memory from childhood is of his father taking him to the city to see a parade. Two songs into the album, he dies, and the black parade comes for him.

"During the rest of the story, he meets this entity of death and all these characters, like Mama, who represents anyone who's ever lost their son in a war," Gerard explains. "It's almost like these Canterbury Tales, where he goes along on this journey, and at the end he decides whether he wants to live or die." With the concept in place, My Chem made the songs as sweeping and theatrical as Gerard's lyrics. They accomplished this, in part, by combing through their own eclectic record collections and pulling choice elements that would set them even further apart from other melodic punk bands.

The first two minutes of "Welcome to the Black Parade" stemmed from Gerard's love for Broadway musicals, the horns in "Dead!" came from Mikey's interest in Blur and Britpop, and the jaunty feel of "Mama" was informed by Tom Waits and Nick Cave. But the most poignant moment on the record, "Cancer," was (unlike its morbid moniker) something of a pleasant surprise. "I was very upset about something in my personal life, and that's when that song came out," Gerard says. "It was really spontaneous, and it was recorded pretty much live with Rob [Cavallo, the record's producer] on the piano and me in the vocal booth. Then we added layers of drums, which gave it a certain urgency. It's the song I'm most proud of because it was the most pure emotion we've ever captured, and it gets such an immediate response. You can't shake what the song is about."

As the CD approached completion, some members of the band began to show signs of nervous exhaustion. The group was scheduled to fly to England to play the Reading Festival, and as the date grew near, Toro, who has a fear of flying, got noticeably agitated. Then, after the band tracked "Welcome to the Black Parade," which was originally called "The Five of Us Are Dying," the guitarist lost it.

"I thought I had this premonition," Toro explains. "I was flipping through the TV channels, and on the news. there would be something about a plane crash, and every time I woke up in the morning, the clock would say 9:11. I was playing Tomb Raider the night before the flight, and on the level I ended up at, there was this whole flashback to a plane crash. So right before the flight I was like, 'That's it. I'm not flying."

Despite his misgivings, Toro boarded the plane, and when My Chemical Romance returned to L.A. (all of them still very much alive, thank you very much), The Black Parade was completed without further incident. Listening back to the record, the band members were in awe of what they had achieved and eager to share it with their fans. "There was a real confidence that came to us," Gerard explains. "Having survived it, we felt like we were changed forever. I feel different as a performer now, and I think we really finally discovered who we were as a band." But just because MCR were done with the record didn't mean that it was done with them. About a month later, the band was shooting a video for "Famous Last Words" with director Samuel Bayer (Garbage, Smashing Pumpkins) on a set featuring walls of flame, when-seized by the moment-lero grabbed Gerard's throat from behind and wrestled him to the ground. The singer rolled one way; his foot went the other. "It bent completely backwards, and I heard a crack and felt this agonizing pain," Gerard recalls. "I tore all the ligaments in my foot, but I got up and continued to perform." "I didn't know what I was doing," says lero, shaking his head. "I wasn't trying to hurt him. I felt awful. I still do." Gerard's injury was serious, and he still walks with a cane, but it paled in comparison to what happened to Bryar. At the end of the shoot, the pyro was so intense, the drummer could feel his leg burning, but he stuck it out for the rest of the song. By then, he had a nasty third-degree burn. And the misfortune didn't stop there. Bryar didn't take his antibiotics regularly, and he failed to keep the wound clean. By the time the band got back from a brief tour of Japan, the burn was severely infected. Then Bryar's face swelled up and, after doing the MTV Video Music Awards preshow telecast and a special club show, stumbled into a hospital emergency room in intense pain. "I thought I'd be there for 10 minutes, but as soon as they saw me, they got all serious and gave me an IV and said they had to do a CAT scan," recalls Bryar."They did all these blood tests and kept me there for 14 hours." Doctors discovered that Bryar's leg infection had spread to his blood and caused an abscess in his face that was creeping dangerously close to his brain. If it had been left untreated for another two days, he could have died. "The whole thing was such a nightmare," Bryar says. "This doctor stuck my cheek with a needle about six inches long and the width of an IV tube. Then he went in and out of the inside of my mouth with the needle about 10 times. Fortunately, the treatment worked, and Bryar left the hospital three days later. With tragedy averted, My Chem are now focusing on touring for The Black Parade. They'll be in Europe for most of November, and when they get back at the end of year, they'll start rehearsing for a U.S. arena tour that starts in February. "We want to put on a full show with props and staging like The Wall," Gerard says. And MCR plan to keep the Patient alive long after they're done touring for the CD. "I would love to see the story turned into a play or a musical, and it could easily be a movie," enthuses Gerard. "Making this record, we cut ourselves open every day, pulled out every organ, and lay them on a table so it would be something we're completely happy with. We want The Black Parade to exist for a long time." "The whole hole thing nightmare. This doctor stuck my cheek with a needle about six inches long and the width of an IV tube." -BOB BRYAR

"I felt more like an outsider than I ever had, and I had no confidence, which is bad when you're trying work on a record."

-GERARD WAY

12/2006 revolver - mcrhollywood on flickr

[skythealmighty]

man. there are so many object shows out there. I NEED TO CATCH UP ON SO MANY why are the4e so many anyway Exclamation Mark (NOT AB) im killing you. he would get bullied off tumblr

#rocket talk #roc save #NOT THE ANIMATIC BATTLE ONE that ones fine #i mean the one in my header #hes an asshole #why do i keep accidentally hitting the number keys lately

(7 notes)

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

i cant believe my contestants are so pissy over the second challenge still!!!! it was a coherent challenge i think "survive me killing you" is pretty straightforward!!! besides theyre fine now >:/

⏰ timeisatool Follow

Maybe it's becausw you killed them?

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

well thats stupid

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

I KNOW RIGHT!! my old contestants got SO pissy when i killed th3m!! just because theres no recovery... 😒

⏰ timeisatool Follow

You dont have recovery????

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

arent u supposed to be dead

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

well im NOT so

❗ black-and-red Follow

Ugh, I haven't even killed anyone that much and they're still pissy! Honestly... just do the challenges and you'll be fine! I only threatened them..

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

well i thought i killed circle but ig not! and square but nobody else died idk why everuones so afraid of me... whats so wrong w wanting to make a perfect object show?

⏰ timeisatool Follow

Um

🔥 betterheatsflamesman Follow

yeah theres nothing wrong with that! you gotta do what you gotta do for your object show

⏰ timeisatool Follow

😰😰😰😰😰

⏰ timeisatool Follow

I want to leave this group...

#i thought we were all just supposed to be wacky and weird 😰😰 #mom come pick me up im scared...

(34 notes)

🔥🔃 betterheatsflamesman Follow reblogged 🪔 slay-style-queen

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

Hey guys, just managed to get sponsored with my object show idea!!! (No thanks to you Lip Stick lol) wish me luck!! Also go keep an eye out on Village of Objects Official :D

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

what the FUCK

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

oh my god how do you all stay sane actually

4️⃣ four-therecord Follow

we don't! welcome to the club

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

im never doing this again

#:)

(4,294 notes)

📻 annie-annie-ooh Follow

Who's Animatic?

#It's Your Fridge DJ! #I appreciate all the lovemail and the concern! ❤ #I don't understand some of the asks but thank you anyway!

(725 notes)

🧪🔃 test-tubular Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features

🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow

Have YOU heard of:

🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow

Please stop debating on whether or not this "counts" as an object show, this was requested by an anon. If you want to do that on your own time on your own blog, feel free!

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

SORRY ABOUT THAT SJEHSKEB will move i promise 🙏

anyWAY on another note i miss this showww 😭 i was so intrigued about it but i guess i understand its cancellation... if anyone wants to come up with a rewrite w me hmu my ao3 is in my desc!!!!

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

just as long as you clarify its unofficial!! (:

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

its on ao3 ofc its unofficial

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

WAIT A GODDAMN SECON

#Fan we were /on/ an object show and technically famous I'm not sure why you're surprised at this point #Also get off your phone we're at Purgatory Mansion

(11,374 notes)

anonymous asked: hey greeny can you say trans rights for everyone out there

🟢 greenyguy Follow

trans rights AND trans wrongs. even if you like burger king i still support you <3

#burger king sucks ass tho dont do that to urself

(34,193 notes)

💥 fans-fantastic-features asked: im SO sorry for the sudden reply earlier, up until your post i thought hfjone was just some weird wild experimental show?? then again i shouldnt be surprised if happy star themselves is on this goddamn site (also sorry in advance for my friend TT sending you asks about alternate universes. shes a science nerd of all types and needs data or sm) if you want i can tell you what i know about your situation in a private chat, ive done a lot of deep dive analysis posts on my blog too and trust me when i say a LOT of the internet wants to help free you and everyone else you have plenty of help available spotty replies tho im investigating smth

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

I... yeah, I'd like that. Thanks.

(34 notes)

anonymous asked: battery ui is kind of already jailed but still

🔒 your-fav-would-be-jailed Follow

Battery from Ultimate Insanity would be jailed!

🔋 theft-and-battery Follow

Yeah

#Why did someone earlier send in that Walkie Talkie person? #I approve of the Blender submission though #Hate that guy

(12 notes)

🎒🔃 liam-plecak Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features

🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow

cant have shit in this fuckass hotel 😒😒😒 lens just died 😔😔

🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow

#WHAT THE FUCK #DONT JUST DROP SMTH LIKE THAT AND DIP #ARE YOU OKAY?? #ARE YOU TALKING ABT A GAME???

hi! rhanks for the concern! 😁 i am unfortunately not talking about a game lens is actually dead please help me (dms r open 🙏🙏)

#Since I've gotten a lot of followers recently I feel like I should boost this #I'm busy with my own issues but maybe someone else can help?

(5,204 notes)

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

i want my SHOW BACK i want my CO HOSTS BACK i want calculatory DEAD i only MILDLY HATE happy star i dont KNOW WHAT ELSE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT

🥝 gela-not-jelly Follow

🫵 Fanny kinnie

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

who the FUCK is fanny

#im CIRCLE not a goddamn FAN #who even names themselves fanny anyway

(382 notes)

⚪battleforcircle asked: oml spiderman pointing meme

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

you sent me this FIFTEEN TIMES get OUT of my ASKBOX!!!!

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

why are there two of you...

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

theres only ONE of me i dont know who this IS!!

⚪battleforcircle Follow

theres three of us just three of us

#idk why either tbh #tumblr just recommended his acc to me one day #he seems fun to annoy tho so ive taken it upon myself to do so #tee hee

(89 notes)

📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow

Hey so why is a known criminal on Tumblr?

📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow

Hello???