#(DUDE MY BRAIN THIS MORNING OMG)

[oh-gh0st]

i had to draw him

[crownshattered-arch]

|| me: :)

My brain: The enchanted rose in TWST Kira’s room has been wilting. It’s enchanted with the ability to lower blot levels of those around it, as we already know, and since it’s enchanted it’s not supposed to die. So Kira has been very concerned about it and doesn’t understand why it’s dying. Leading up to book 7, it’s on its last petals. During Lilia’s farewell party (unbeknownst to Kira), the last petal fell.

me: 8(

[catiuskaa]

missed me, missed me, now you gotta...

SUMMARY: minho wasn’t grumpy, nor he was jealous. but he hasn’t been the same ever since he fell in love with you.

REQUESTED! by a sweet annonie right here. pookie, your idea was lovely to write! lil grumpy minho, im melting… it’s a bit short, but I hope you like it! <3

CW: use of (crack) text messages to convey the plot, starring: han quokka as cupid + reader’s bsf, clingy minho as king of my heart, and ngl, type 1 diabetes fluff ahead. keep insulin shots close just in case! lol

WC: 1.1k

A/N: i love how i’m slowly turning into a minho blog/page lmaoo, only minho: the man, the myth, the legend!

[🪻☆🌫️☆🪻]

The same ringtone buzzed again during rehearsals. Its ding had sounded so many times already that it had started to get repetitive really quickly.

Minho frowned as he looked in the mirror, retouching his rolled sleeves just once more for what he secretly knew it had been more than twenty times. In the span of ten minutes. Maybe even less.

But Minho wasn’t ‘grumpy’.

He so wasn’t.

His day had been normal so far. He had no reason to be grumpy. Not one what-so-ever.

He had woken up in between your arms, and even if he had ‘complained’ about it, he loved being the little spoon. And also, his cats jumped on the bed and, just for once, none of them landed on his face.

There had been just one thing.

…

Well. Technically more than one.

You had rushed outside this morning. You claimed you didn’t have time to have breakfast with him, because you were late for something he didn’t really get. Because of that, you hadn’t come over to the JYP building with him. He had to drive over alone. And you hadn’t pecked him goodbye at the entrance like always.

But he. Wasn’t. Grumpy.

Not. At. All.

> sunggie: girl, did you hide his cats or smth?

< minho’s owner: lol, wdym dude?

> sunggie: he looks like he’s going to kill me.

> sunggie: And he loves me! Wtf??

“Jisung-ah.”

Han shrieked in his place in the sofa, his phone almost falling off his hands. He quickly turned it off, hoping that the grumpy dancer hadn’t seen the old or new messages.

“Who were you texting?” Minho frowned, deeper this time.

“Oh.” Jisung chuckled. “Just checking in on noona.”

“My girlfriend?” The way Minho enunciated the title felt a bit possesive. Jisung eyed at him weirdly for a second. Even he felt weird himself.

Jisung nodded sheepishly, turning his phone back on but quickly opening a random app.

“Yeah. I owed her a call back.” He shrugged, nonchalantly accepting that he had opened Subway Surfers, and started to play.

As the catchy music came from Han’s phone, Minho shook his head.

Not grumpy.

Not at all.

But the thought that you had been texting Han and didn’t text him —instead of him— did funny things in his chest.

Now, keep in mind that Minho would never describe himself as a jealous man.

He trusted you with his cats, of course he trusted you regarding your relationship. But he had barely got a hold of you all day. And Han had. By call and text. Like he was doing now.

Not grumpy.

Sure.

< minho’s owner: you dead yet?

Jisung groaned.

> sunggie: no! you made me lose my score!

> sunggie: and I don’t have any keys! ㅠㅠ

< minho’s owner: sucks to suck, lol

< minho’s owner: but what’s wrong with my future husband? did you do something?

> sunggie: he’s moody since he came in this morning.

> sunggie: you weren’t here tho. smth wrong between ya?

< minho’s owner: no…? just had to run to work early…

And then, something in Jisung’s paboracha brain connected. Probably because of how he had named your contact in his phone.

> sunggie: omg

< minho’s owner: what?

> sunggie: that corny dumbass

> sunggie: he’s so stupid

< minho’s owner: bitch what is it???

> sunggie: he’s moody bc u didn’t come in with him today!

You hesitated. Could that be it?

< minho’s owner: really? u think so?

> sunggie: bitch I know so!

> sunggie: imma go get boba for the boys, get your ass here and come w/ me

Jisung’s brain started to work at cupid’s speed.

< minho’s owner: omw. be there in 5’

“Guys, I’m gonna go get boba. Do any of you want something?”

The rest of the gang blabbered something while some kept going over the steps of the choreography and the others rested on the couch, doozing off or on their phones. Han quickly noted down everyone’s orders, not before being squinted down by Minho. He held back a shiver.

“Clingy prick…” Jisung mumbled, leaving quickly.

He walked out of the JYP building, waiving and half bowing to the staff members and other artists in the building.

< minho’s owner: just parked! ^^

Jisung entered the boba place next to the building, smiling at the cashier as he read down the orders on his note app, and stood aside, waiting for the drinks.

“Hey!” You smiled widely at him, taking off your scarf, merely leaving it hanging on your shoulders. He clapped your hand, playfully slapping your back.

“Working hard?” Jisung snickered, pointing at the bag on your other hand.

You side-eyed at him, giggling softly.

“Took some snacks before heading off.” You shrugged. “We can sneak these in, right?”

Jisung scratched the back of his neck. “We’ll… come up with something.”

You both struggled carrying the drinks, teasing each other and betting who’d make a mess first. But all giggles came to an end when the security guard stared at you.

“Name and business?” He asked in a low huff.

Your body stiffened.

“She’s my sister,” Han chimed back. You were in fact far from being his sister, but that didn’t matter when the guard seemed to nod. “She’s just helping me carry the drinks inside.”

“And the bag? What’s inside?”

You cleared your throat, smiling. “Clothes for him to change once he finishes training.” You lied.

Thank God for his imagination. And for his stupid idea of shoving your scarf and his hoodie into the bag of snacks.

“Ok. You may come in.” The guard smiled politely.

Only after the both of you had gotten into the elevator you allowed yourselves to let out a sight full of relief. You two then smirked, high-fiving.

“Thank you, bro.” You teased in a snicker.

He cackled. “You’re welcome, sis.”

You both laughed and joked until you reached the training room.

“The person you dream of is back!” Han cackled.

“Noona!” Felix grinned happily.

“Yeah, that’s me!” You cackled at Jisung’s faked frown.

You smiled and greeted everyone as you entered, leaving a certain bunny boy for last.

You sat next to him on the couch, and without missing a beat, he took your legs and layed them on his lap.

You took a sip of his drink, and he stared at you, almost with a squint.

“You’ve made me jealous of fucking Han Jisung.” He stated matter-o-factly, making you practically choke on the tapioka pearls.

You coughed. “What?”

“You texted him all evening. And me? Not even a good luck kiss this morning.”

“Aw, are you grumpy, kitten?” You grinned teasingly, speaking only towards him in a soft tone to his ear. You pecked his cheek.

He needed more of those.

Grumpy, huh?

“Yes. Very.” He mumbled, hiding his blushed and pleased grin in the crook of your neck. “Need more kisses.”

“Well, you know how it goes.” You mumbled in a snicker. He hummed at you, waiting for you to explain.

You kissed his forehead softly, his hands stroking your thighs.

“Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me.”

~Kats, who can write this in one sit, but can’t figure out how chemistry works (yes have exams, why did I choose this for myself, help)

[stuffeddeer]

imagine mistaking beastzai as your usual dazai (you thought he wanted to be emo for a day) and like did usual silly cute things with him then dazai came home and he’s like HUH WHO IS THIS GUY R U CHEATING ON ME :(( but in the end you have… double boyfriends but one’s moody and one’s fucking annoying

anons that think alike omg telepathy … use ur powers for good!!! two asks in one btw i feel so productive

alsooo beast!dazai would be giddy like a child to be in the main tl w his love… he’d be twirling you around and enjoying what could’ve been before he has to go back!!! all dazais are cringy and in love w u it's true they told me themselves !!!!

“What’s with the outfit?” You spoke bluntly, clearly a little put off by the reappearance of the black coat and red scarf. “Dude, you look like Mori.” Harsh, sure, but your boyfriend worked so hard to walk alongside you in the light, so the last thing you wanted was to see what would’ve been, if not for — 

Dazai smiled, seemingly amused. “Ah, love, it’s merely a costume. Thought you’d get a kick out of it,” he replies easily, pulling off the long red scarf: a staple of the Port Mafia’s boss.

His words help to relax you, letting out a small sigh as you push the coat off of his shoulders. “Let me grab you your coat, I know it’s around here somewhere…” You flittered about your shared apartment, pulling a backup brown coat from its spot buried underneath your closet. “This better suits you,” you speak under your breath as Dazai pulls it on. The fit seems a little… different. Is it somehow looser than normal? You frown.

“Thank you, love,” he repeated the same pet name. It felt as though he missed saying it, which doesn’t quite make sense.

You choose not to dwell on it — maybe seeing him in black again just rewired your brain for a moment. He’s alive and well in front of you and nothing else matters. A nod is all the reply Dazai gets before you slip on your shoes.

“I thought you might have headed to work early when I didn’t see you in bed this morning, but I guess that’s my fault for assuming the impossible,” you decide to tease.

Dazai easily slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin against your shoulder. “Mm… I love you, you know that? Let’s skip work today. We can spend time together, ‘kay?”

He’d always been unpredictable and spontaneous, so you merely laughed in response. “I don’t have work today, remember? But you still do.”

Shaking his head, he pouts — there’s the Dazai you love. “Nope!~ I refuse to go into work today. I’m spending my whole day with my love!” He practically jumps for joy, hands moving to gently hold your waist. “Let’s bake cookies.”

There isn’t much you can do, watching with an amused grin as Dazai unties your shoes before dragging you to the kitchen.

“It does not take two hours to make cookie dough…” you sigh, trying to jostle the white flour from your hair. “We baked cookies together, like, two weeks ago! How could we already have forgotten everything…”

Dazai grins, planting kiss after kiss on your cheeks, melted butter staining your skin from when he accidentally tried to drink from the cup you’d used to soften it. “Hard to remember much when I’m with you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You chuckled, grabbing a towel from the counter to wipe both your face and his lips.

“Yep!~ It’s like.. my love is so pretty I can’t think when I’m around them! Oh, I could just die in… No! I don’t even want to die! I could live in your arms, grow old together and watch you get all frail and saggy,” Dazai speaks dreamily, swooning over the idea of growing old with you. How sweet.

You push him away gently and begin balling up the chocolate chip cookie dough, pressing it onto the silver pan you made Dazai buy when you first started staying over. “Saggy? No, I’ll be young and beautiful forever,” you joke, but Dazai only nods in response.

“It’s true! No one holds a candle to my love. Why, I wish I could spend every day just staring at you.” Dazai’s voice always sounded teasing when he was with you, but even as you put the last of the cookie dough onto the tray (only had enough to fill one, since Dazai kept spilling, throwing or eating the ingredients..) you could feel the genuineness in his words.

Oven preheated, you slid the sheet in to bake (making sure to start the timer) before turning to Dazai. Before you could get a word in, the front door to your shared apartment creaked open. Heart dropping to your stomach, you grabbed the closest thing to you: a whisk your boyfriend had licked clean. Said boyfriend only seemed to sigh, falling into a more somber mood, head hanging before he sent you a sad smile.

“I think the jig is up, love…”

Your name is called from the front door, the voice… suspiciously familiar. “Are you in there? You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried...” Dazai stepped into your apartment, hanging his keys by the door before turning around (an addition you made, since he tended to forget his and jumpscare you by picking the lock every few days).

The three of you stood still, no words spoken and the only sound being that of your metal whisk dropping to the floor. Spinning from one Dazai to the next, you wiped a splotch of flour from your shirt collar. You felt guilty for some reason, like you were at fault for not recognizing an imposter Dazai, and wanted to make yourself look more presentable.

“Awww, love!” The Dazai at the door pouts, throwing his coat on the floor as he quickly heads over to you. “Are you cheating on me?” He continues, slouching over you to impose as much of his weight as he can. You struggle for a moment, his bone crushing hug enveloping more than you expected.

Guilt still apparent as your tummy twisted, you shook your head. “I didn’t— “

The other Dazai, the one wearing a black tie and covered in various cookie ingredients pouted as well. “Maybe she’s cheating on me! I mean, I can’t believe my love moved in with another man…”

God, this was too confusing. You gently pushed Dazai A off of you, stepping back from the two. “I don’t— “

“I can’t believe this… I head to work early one time and now you’re making cookies for someone else!” Dazai A whined, face smooshed against the oven door’s glass in longing. “I’ll never be on time again! In fact, I think I’ll always have to be late.”

Dazai B pulled Dazai A back towards him by his collar, whispering obnoxiously, “I’ll share the cookies if you share the beautiful partner.”

Dazai A nods in approval, eyes closed and arms crossed like it was the easiest decision to make in the world. “I want half the sheet. And, I want a kiss…” He pouts towards you. Ugh, how annoying.

You deadpan towards the two, no longer feeling guilty. These two were just as much Dazai as they could get. Arms spread, you let Dazai A pull you into a hug so you can give him a proper welcome home kiss. “Both of you are obnoxious. Is that all I’m worth? Half a sheet of cookies?”

“Half a sheet of your cookies,” Dazai B grins. “That’s not something either of us would give up lightly.” The other Dazai nods in agreement.

Both of your stupid, annoying, clingy boyfriends tug on your sleeves, forcing you over to the couch so they can both receive your affections while the cookies bake.

the timer goes off after a while but they both whine about not wanting to let u get up. once you threaten letting the cookies burn they're quick to let go. i hate them both.

[thegnomelord]

omg yes for the Ghost fic request you can do prompt 3 instead that would be great, thank you. some angst with a happy ending please

Sure thing dude, sorry this took so long, but a happy xmas to you lol My hyperfixation hyperfixated on this so it's a bit long and expositiony but I'm actually really happy with how this turned out :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”

CW: NSFW, subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, angst, misunderstandings, gentle sex, making up kinda, confessions, fwb turned lovers, idiots in love,

Simon's apartment is a picture of painful domesticity; your muddy boots sit neatly next to his by the door, two mugs set next to the coffee maker, two toothbrushes left on the sink only a foot away from different shower products that have long since mixed together into one giant pile, and a dozen more little things that tell anyone with a cursory glance — 'yeah, two people live here'.

When people wonder why you practically live together when you're just casual, you both just say it's convenient (and ignore how fake your answers sound).

After all; Why leave after he's ridden you to both of your completions when you can just settle on the couch and share a drink over a movie? Why should you waste money on a cab to get back to your own flat when you two can just tumble into bed? Why should Simon wake up to an empty and cold flat when he can do so in your arms, your steady heartbeat remind him you're both alive? Why leave in the morning and miss one of the few times Simon's fully relaxed when you can have a lazy morning, laying in bed and enjoying each other's company until the sun's high in the sky?

Why leave at all?

. . . Simon treasures every moment with you as much as he hates it, every second in your presence like a pretty hummingbird singing sweetly in his ear while it drills holes into his skull. Absolute Hell. Utter bliss.

He knows he doesn't deserve you. Knows you don't deserve to have a living corpse crawl back into your arms every night, nothing but a stranger with Simon's face. But you two have known each other so long it's impossible to let you go.

You met as toddlers when you'd nicked his toy, refusing to give it back until he agreed to play with you, and you've been stuck at the hip since. You two were each other's first kiss, fumbling behind the school bleachers, eager and sloppy like inexperienced lads are. First set of blooming hickeys along his collarbones, Simon's ma giving him a knowing look when she'd noticed it amongst the other bruises her no good husband had left on him. First fuck, quick and rough in a dark janitor closet during basic training, burning with need and heat. First—

. . . Simon doesn't know when the word 'Love' first registered in his brain. Maybe when you tore up heaven and hell looking for him. Maybe when you stuck by him when he did his best to scare you off, all rough words and teeth, unable to form one nice word when violence and revenge was all that was left in his head.

He doesn't know when he registered the word. Only that he looks at you whenever you do something mundane and thinks 'yeah. Love. That fits.'

But love has no place in. . . whatever this is. Hell, he's the one who'd set the ground rule when you two were young and dumb, reaffirming it after he'd come back as Ghost. And you'd never fought against it, agreeing to just be fucking casual, there's no way you want anything more than this. He doesn't want to cock it up, doesn't want to take more from you than he's already done, so he swallows all he feels and ignores how it burns his throat, going day by day like nothing's changed.

He wakes in your arms, deeply ingrained training waking him before dawn but the heat of your body keeps him rooted in place. Distantly he can still feel the cold tight confines of that coffin, of maggots wriggling on his skin, but memories of that nightmare float away before his traitorous mind can latch on to them. He lays in bed, head firmly on your chest so he can hear you, see you breathe. Morning comes too soon and you rouse awake, laying a sweet kiss on his forehead before getting out of bed to set the kettle on.

It's domestic.

It's painful.

. . .

You love how Simon looks. You especially love how he looks in his civies, freed of his armor and no longer needing to be guarded at all times, shoulders relaxed and mindlessly looking around as you talk while you browse the store. He's still gruff, and sarcastic, but you love that about him. You loved him long before he said not to tangle emotions in your meaningless bliss and long after he'd come back as Ghost, each unknown scar on his body taking a chip out of your heart.

And you respect his choice. You'll take what you can get and won't give it up even after your corpse has grown cold, hoping that will be enough to drown out the neediness of your heart. You lost him once and it had nearly killed you, you can't lose him again. . .

God, you're pathetic for him.

You meet miss Betty on your way back from the shop. She's your neighbor a few doors down, a sweet old lady who waters your plants when you and Simon are called back into action. You see her struggling with her bags so you hand your own to Simon so you can help her, "Hold this, please?"

"Only because you asked nicely." Simon huffs, but takes the bag without further complaint, walking behind you as you help miss Betty with her shopping, content to listen to you two talk about who knows what. It still amazes him how you've managed to charm all the neighbors Simon rarely spoke to.

"Oh, thank you deary." Miss Betty says as you put her shopping next to her door, holding onto your arm for support. "It's so nice to have a helpful person around here."

"It's not a problem ma'am." You say with a small smile, and fuck if Simon's heart doesn't beat a bit faster at the sight.

"You know," Miss Betty begins. "My grandson's been eyeing you up. And I can see why, you're such a strapping young man."

You feel Simon's gaze fall on you like a dagger, cold, hard, expectant. You try to think of what to say but your words fail you, because while you and Simon aren't in a relationship you can't picture yourself be with anyone else. "I-"

"Oh don't worry deary, I told him he was barking up the wrong tree." Miss Betty cuts you off by giggling like a school girl, "I wouldn't want to separate you two love birds."

The words burning on your tongue escape you before you can filter them. "Yeah, I doubt I could love anyone other than Simon." You clear your throat after, feeling his eyes on you.

Miss Betty just coos. "Oh, to be young and in love." Then she turns, waving her walking stick at Simon like he's an annoying pigeon that flew into her house. "You better treat him properly you big oaf, he's good for you."

Oh, Simon knows. Knows you're too good for him. But all he lets out is a small grunt, and you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.

You don't think of what you say next, so far away from a warzone your defenses are lowered. "No need to worry ma'am, he's the love of my life and I can assure you he treats me very well."

There's that word again, and the way it leaves your lips has Simon's heart skipping a beat. Fuck, Simon wants to hear you say it until he's deaf. Wants to hold your jaw closed so you don't speak again and stop making him feel this. Wants to pull you close and throw you out of the window at the same time. Wants— . . . he doesn't know what he wants.

"Oh, well I won't hold you up any more dears." Miss Betty says, patting you on the arm before shuffling back to her apartment with her shopping.

There's an uncomfortable silence between you two while you get back to Simon's flat, neither one of you sure what to say about the damn elephant in the room. You take the bags you'd given him, your back to him as you put them on the counter.

Acting like nothing's wrong. Nothing's changed.

But it has.

"An' you say my heart's rotten." Simon grunts, gruff and harsh, too many thoughts brewing in his head to properly say what he's thinking.

You turn to him, surprise obvious on your face. "What?"

"Lyin' to old ladies." His jaw is tense behind his face mask, which you note he hadn't taken off when the front door had closed, back to being guarded around you, something between Simon and Ghost. "Granted, it was convincing. What, did you take some creative writing lessons from Laswell?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, then you feel your jaw tense as well. "Christ, Simon, what are you on about?" You growl, stomping over to him.

His shoulders tense as you approach, but the scent of your cologne calms his body without his mind's input. "Can't love anyone but me?" He asks, something cold and slimy settling in your stomach when you realize he's repeating your words. "Love of your life am I?" Simon scoffs, the skin around his eyes moving in a sardonic smirk. "You're full of shite."

He doesn't know who he's trying to convince here.

You know you should brush it off, go along and say it was just a joke. Say anything that won't clue him in to your real feelings. Hell, not even saying a thing would be good.

But you just have to open your mouth.

"I wasn't lying about that Simon." You say suddenly, open, honest, your eyes meeting his.

Silence stretches long enough to have your nerves crackle with static, your body needing something instead of the nothing he gives you. Then Simon lets out a short, dry laugh, like your words are just a joke.

"Quit it." He huffs, doesn't meet your eyes because looking at you and entertaining the idea that he could have something more with you fucking hurts. "'m not up for your focking jokes." He grows, turning to leave,

Something inside you makes you move before your mind can comprehend it, grabbing his hand to stop him, "Simon I love you damn it!"

Your words are like a slap to the face for him. Simon freezes like a cornered deer, thousands of thoughts darkening his eyes, brows furrowed like he doesn't know whether to be angry or not. "But we—'

"—we agreed, I know. I fucking know." You hiss and damn it you can feel tears prickle your eyes like needles, "But I fucking love you, been in love with you for years and I know we agreed not to but—" You're babbling now, each word leaving your chest feeling raw like an open wound, the weight on your shoulders lessening but it only draws the noose tighter. "—just tell me how I'm supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me."

Silence greets you as you stare into his eyes, that same static gnawing on your nerves the longer he just looks at you without a word, searching for something in your eyes he expects not to find.

But he does.

He spares you, pulls you by the clothes so his lips can crash onto yours, holding you close like you'll disappear. The kiss is sloppy and desperate just as it had been when you'd been hiding behind the school bleachers, all teeth and tongue and care.

Eventually the need for air breaks you two apart, but Simon refuses to let you go far. His rough hands hug you close as he rests his forehead against yours, pupils blown wide. ". . .love me, huh?" He says under his breath, as if he can't believe it.

"Yeah." You breathe out and wrap your own arms around him till there's not an inch of space between your chests, hearts beating fast like war drums but in such a rhythm you'd be fooled to think you share one. "Do you?"

Simon swallows, his throat dry, but the words slide smoothly off his tongue. "Yeah." He says, letting you pull him back into a kiss. It's sweeter this time, calmer, no longer rushing to feel the other. He melts against you, a low sound building in his throat as the sensations of you wrap his mind in silk, the taste, the feel, the scent, all of it making his mind fuzzy. All his now.

You lose track of time, stealing gulps of air between kisses as your minds drown in the other, your bodies moving on their own. You don't know how you end up in the bed but you do, your skin prickling with goosebumps as Simon's body presses against your own.

You part to catch your breath, Simon's head falling back on the pillow with your name leaving his lips like a prayer. He's underneath you, eyes hooded and short hair ruffled, and while usually he'd push you back and wrestle for control, this time he just melts into the sheets, lets you do as you want.

"Fuck-" Simon growls as you kiss down his neck, his blunt nails scratching your scalp as reward for the little hickeys you leave on his throat. Your hands roam across his body, leaving lingering trails of burning heat. "Love, please hurry up." He breathes out, cock already rock hard from just a few kisses and heavy touches.

"Right," You say, because that's all your brain can conjure up at the moment. Blindly reaching for the lube you trail kisses down his front, your lips tracing every scar along the way, his legs easily parting so you can settle between them. You can't help but look him over again, all relaxed and eager for you, chest rising and falling like he's a racehorse. "God you're fucking pretty."

A deep flush spreads from Simon's ears down to his hickey marked shoulders, a little smile tugging on the corner of his lip. "Just pretty?"

"Beautiful." You breathe out against his abdomen, rubbing your fingers together to warm the lube. "So handsome." You don't miss how his cock twitches, your lips following his happy trail. "Charming." You hum against the tip of his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at his slit. "Bloody bewitching." His hips buck into your mouth as your fingers slowly circle his puckered rim, putting just a bit of pressure at first. "Irresistible." His body yields, the tense muscles of his rim going lax and letting you slide a finger in.

A low and long groan escapes his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he savors the stretch, tight walls clenching in the rhythm of his breaths. "Read a dictionary, did you?" Simon smirks, heart warm and floaty at the way you wait for him to relax after the intrusion before you move, at the way you look at him when your exploring finger brushes his prostate and makes him moan. "Such a focking charmer."

"Just for you." You chuckle, lightly sucking on his cockhead to make him forget about the lingering pain, your ears pricked to hear every little groan and unabashed moan leaving his lips. "Can you handle two?" You ask, your second finger resting against his rim without trying to push in.

He growls like an animal and pushes his hips down on your hand, "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't hurry up." He warns at your question, his harsh glare softened by the heavy flush across his face and his hooded eyes.

"Not the dog house." You say in mock fear, swallowing his leaking cock a third of the way down in one go as you push your second finger in, your thumb rubbing the space between his balls and ass so his prostate is trapped on both ends.

"Shite-" Simon's hips twitch up, beads of precum painting your tongue as his legs spread open more. "-you wanker." His insult is light, head rolling back as he grounds his hips down in an attempt to chase after that spine numbing pleasure your fingers bring.

Pulling back enough to murmur "Love you too." against his tip you take him into your mouth again. You can't measure how good it feels to say those words honestly instead of sarcastically, your own arousal forgotten as you work him open on your fingers, the constant pressure on his prostate making a small stream of precum bead down your throat.

Simon floats in heaven for, he doesn't know how long, the pleasure making his brain melt through his dick, unable to stop the soft sounds escaping his throat. He cracks an eye open when the tightness in his stomach becomes apparent, barely able to stave off his orgasm when he sees his cock throbbing between your lips.

Your name comes out slurred as he tugs on your hair, "Need you. Now." A little bit of his usual demanding nature comes out, but even then it's born out of desperation to feel you rather than the need to be in control.

You let him pull you off his cock, placing gentle kisses on his thick thighs as you pull your fingers out of his stretched hole. "You have me."

You go to grab a condom but he stops you, too aroused to be embarrassed by his eagerness. "You don't- my physical, I'm clean. If you want, I mean-"

You furrow your brows, your chest tight with how big your heart feels. You could never hide how sick you'd feel at the thought of Simon being intimate with someone else, even when you'd never agreed to be exclusive. "We did physicals nearly three months ago, you haven't. . .?"

He shakes his head, "No," Suddenly he tenses up, his jaw tight like he's expecting bad news. "Have you?" His tone isn't judgmental, but you can hear the edge of hurt.

"No. No. No!" Quick to dispel his thoughts you lean over to kiss him like he's a bout of fresh air and you've been drowning for years. It's not too far from the truth. "You're the only one I've ever. . .done that with." You murmur against his lips, earning yourself another kiss as he pulls down by a hand on the back of your neck.

"Good." Simon tuts, proud, hiking one leg around your waist to pull you closer, your cocks rubbing together. "Fuck me already." He grumbles, his strong arms wrapped around your neck.

"Right, yeah." Despite how many times you've done this suddenly you feel like a fucking virgin, your hands trembling slightly as you lube up your cock. You press the tip against his slick hole, forcing you to bite your lip as you start to push your hips. "Just relax, yeah?"

"Yeah." Simon breathes out, feeling pressure of your cockhead against his hole. You both groan when your cockhead pops inside him, your lips on his making him forget about the lingering sting. "Shite, so good for me." Simon hums, looking at you with hooded eyes. Usually he relishes the sting and burn sex with you brings, but he's so loose and lubed the pain is barely a prickle at the back of his skull and he finds himself getting addicted to the unfiltered pressure and weight of your cock inside him.

"Simon," You say, clenching your teeth as you try to keep still so he can get used to you, holding his hips for dear life. "Can I- please I need."

"Focking move it," He nods his head, his head rolling back from the sensation of you moving inside him, your cock brushing against his walls as you push inside him inch by inch until you're fully inside him.

Your nerves a live wire from how tight and hot his hole is, forcing you to rest your head on the pillow next to his as you try to gather your self-control; you'll be damned if you cum before him.

"I'm good." Simon tugs on your scalp, your lips meeting in a lopsided kiss. You pull away to rest your forehead against his, his eyes blown wide and hooded, something about this position so intimate it melts your heart. "Hurry up, 'm not going to last long." He confesses, his walls clenching down on your length.

Words escape you so you just nod your head, slowly pulling your hips back before pushing back in, Simon meeting you half way so your cock can lay consistent pressure on his prostate. You two move like one, your senses full of sex and heat, your ears ringing with Simon's low moans and groans. Moving your hand down you stroke him in time with your thrusts, earning yourself even more moans. Usually Simon's so quiet in bed, but now he lets it all out so freely, low growls and huffs and small 'ah, ah, ah's breathed into your ear with every small movement of your hips.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm approaches, your cock bashing against his prostate with all the subtlety of a tank. "Shite-" Simon throws his head back to moan, leaving his throat open for your teeth to lay even more hickeys. "-I, fuck, yeah, that's the spot- just- I need-" His voice turns higher pitched and needy, his body moving with the force of your thrusts, powerful arms pulling you even closer so his teeth can clamp down on your shoulder.

Simon cums with a shout that's muffled into the meat of your shoulder, whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind as he paints both of your stomach's white with his cum, his hole clenching down and pulling you along with him. You cum inside him and moan, collapsing on top of him, completely exhausted.

The silence of the bedroom is broken up by your haggard breathing, both of your bodies sweaty and hot. You tilt your head just enough to catch the way Simon looks at you, like a content cat that knows he's safe, and shit if that doesn't melt your heart, nothing will.

"God, that was something else." You say to break the silence, trying to pull out when you feel yourself soften but your attempts are stopped quickly, Simon grumbling something under his breath as he hugs you closer. "What?" You ask.

He throws a light glare your way, but his eyelids droop with exhaustion. "Don't." He says, relaxing when you stop what you're doing. "Want to feel you." He says; it's the most intelligent thing his mind can conjure up right now.

A gentle smile tugs on your lips. "Right." You lean down to share another kiss with him, this one sweet and slow, his tongue gently liking your lips as a way to ask for entrance— why rush when you've got all the time in the world?

The exhaustion weighing on your bones and Simon saccharine kisses lull you to sleep soon enough, your body like a weighted blanket on top of him. "Love you," You mumble just before your eyes close.

Simon fights against his own fatigue for a few more minutes, relishing the feeling of being connected in such a primal way, with you in him and around him. He takes in your sleeping face with blurry eyes.

Yeah. Love. That fits.

[omegalomania]

the full apple music interview with zane lowe is out! we got snippets of it when love from the other side dropped, but they finally rolled out the full thing. here are some highlights that stood out to me :)

patrick describes pete's lyrics as what gets him out of bed in the morning. if pete doesn't send him lyrics, he doesn't write a song.

andy and pete used to draw fake snake tattoos on each other using magic markers as kids omg?

so evidently patrick was the one who got covid during hella mega tour. and he hated it and he was miserable and that's when he called neal avron about the new record lmao

patrick says that joe was hesitant at first and he was the one who said that for this record he wanted to make something that they could all savor and spend time on and patrick was immediately on board with that

pete says patrick's job is to interpret him because pete calls his mentality a "little bit off" but patrick is capable of understanding him and translating it

patrick describes his and pete's creative relationship as "twin speak." it's not linear and it's like living in his brain a little bit. he calls it the "weirdest thing i've ever seen" when pete can just Tell that some words that patrick adjusted weren't ones he wrote despite not remembering writing them. patrick says he's gotten better at connective tissue and knowing how pete would say things

pete: back in the day patrick was like, "what's the difference between cry and weep i will KILL YOU. THEY'RE THE SAME THING. I'M GONNA KILL YOU RIGHT NOW."

zane says patrick's vocals are next level for this album. pete agrees that he kills it on this album and said he never would've expected that voice coming from him when they first met. zane says patrick could sing a recipe and it would be good. he then passes patrick a recipe and patrick. sings it???

patrick: i'm not gonna belt it. (starts belting) NINE INCH PIE PLATE ROLLING PIN

patrick says that pete doesn't mean to have rhythm to his words but there's a rhythm to them all the same and patrick can find this syncopation in his words and thinks it's amazing

more talking about patrick and pete's Magical Mystical Transcendent Soul Bond. patrick says "if we were one guy, we'd be an INCREDIBLE DUDE"

patrick and pete say that interviews with all four of them are hard because it's chaos and everyone's talking at once but it all makes perfect sense to them and no one else. zane says that sounds like fun flkjdfd [i agree please do this more it's a joy]

pete says joe really stepped up and wrote a lot for this record!

patrick: "joe is kind of a conundrum because he's this really talented...he's a brilliant writer, a brilliant player, but pete and i became the "team" and it wasn't really a plan, but that's just kind of how it happened. [brief tangent about the hiatus] we come back from the thing and joe is this fully-formed writer with a very distinct - he has one of the most distinctive writing voices. when i hear his parts, when i hear his ideas, i could pick them out of a crowd. like i know the way joe writes, and it's VERY joe." part of the process with post-hiatus was integrating him into the writing process more.

discussing the hiatus and fame and pete says his life kind of "blew up" and took it pretty hard. apparently during production for folie paparazzi actually broke down the gate to neal avron's house

patrick goes on a big tangent about how bad things got during the height of pete's fame. "part of my role is to tell his story. i'm a composer. that's what i like to do. i work on movies, i work on shows, and i work on pete. pete has a story that needs music, and if he's removed from himself, if he's not even able to access himself because he's behind all of this stuff, i don't have a story! so not only did i not have my buddy, which was heartbreaking in its own way, but then i also don't have a purpose as an artist."

patrick says that andy is always ready to play but when you get him happy to play, it's another level

"and trohman, there were these moments where he...he got so excited."

patrick describes writing what a time to be alive as wanting to write the saddest, most desperate song you could hear at a wedding. pete bursts into laughter and calls it "so twisted"

talking about other endeavors outside the band - patrick talks about composing and said joe's been super busy with his book and writing for tv and because there are so many deadlines for stuff like that, it's what hammered home to him that fall out boy needs to not be that. "there's something special about this that can't be...this has to be passionate and art."

discussing how scared patrick was of his own voice while the band took off. patrick was really scared of the song saturday at first because there are some really exposed vocal moments. he describes saturday as a song where everyone in the band lets each other go for it.

zane calls fall out boy the "emo blueprint" and says they were unapologetic in being emotional. patrick immediately says, "that was pete. i don't think we could've done that without him." he and joe were basically kids and patrick was too anxious to talk on stage.

zane says, "i remember interviewing you in the early days and i felt like every time i asked you a question i was bullying you." pete IMMEDIATELY loses his shit.

"in another life where i didn't have a pete...cause saturday, i did write most of that by myself...so there's a world where that song exists without the band. there's no world where i sing it in front of people without pete."

pete says every night before they put out a new song he calls patrick up and gets really scared and wants to back out and patrick talks him down every time

they talk about how scary it was when arm's race released and performing it at the amas. patrick starts laughing rly hard as they get into how there were giant crickets on stage and the crowd was just stone-faced and utterly nonresponsive and their stage manager was utterly panicked

towards the end patrick really loosens up and starts swearing more dlkfjdfd

[s-4pphics]

its christmas morning! (e.w)

omg y’all it’s fucking 4/20 aka my thanksgiving christmas and valentine’s day😳 

wanted to write for my fav pothead for my fav holiday :O ellie ripping bongs has been imprinted on my brain since that scene in the game yall know which one i’m talking about i don't even gotta say it🙄 i am very high rn so if there’s a typo or mistake no!! there’s!! not!! love y’all bye 

wc;cw: 2.7k, oc n ellie r both in college, WEED!!! WEED WEED WEED!!!, 21 savage :p catch it, sexual tension y’all know how i get down, descriptions of sex MDNIIII, dubcon(they’re very high), ellie’s so cute but also a lil mean, hair pulling ;D

“c’moooon dude, just one hit!” ellie said with a wide grin while softly nudging your shoulder with hers, her packed and filled miniature glass bong and lighter sitting on the coffee table in front of the two of you. 

ellie had sent you a text message after you got out of your last class saying it was her favorite fucking holiday so get ur ass over here! you knew she would hate it if you—her main smoking buddy—missed out on the new bud she got from someone on campus, so you packed an overnight bag with four of your own blunts that you rolled for her(you learned that tropical breeze was her favorite flavored wrap during one of your seshes!), and made your way over to her off-campus apartment complex. you knew there was no way you were going to be able to walk home tonight since you planned to get as fried as humanly possible. 

you’d arrived inside her building and scaled the stairs to the third floor before you banged on her door. fuck, you were winded! what’s up with the elevators not working—

a muffled what’s the password?! had come from the other side of the door as you gasped for air. 

“stop playing games, i’m tired!” 

you’d heard her laugh as the door swung open, revealing an already high, smiling ellie: you were immediately hit with the smell of the weed she’d apparently already smoked. she looked so cozy, her black hoodie and gray sweatpants littered her body, her hair in a loose ponytail. you looked down at her giant frog slippers before she broke the silence between you two. 

“it’s christmas morning! welcome to my trap house!” she’d excitedly squealed out, gesturing for you to come in. 

she guided you to her and her roommate’s living room couch as she lit one of the blunts you rolled (and then another one) for you both to share. you felt relaxed after smoking them down, but you told her you needed more, and she was more than willing to give you that. she’d ran to her bedroom and grabbed her trusted friend, as she called the smoking utensil. 

“i’ve never used one of those before.” 

“…are you fuckin’ serious?” ellie asked with wide, red tinted eyes. 

“um, yeah. why would i lie?” you asked blankly.

“that’s not what i meant, you smoke pretty often so i assumed. my bad.” she put her hands up in defense at your tone. 

“you don’t need to apologize,” you said before pausing to look at the bong. it was pretty: it was clear, but there were hints of blue further down the base. it reminds you of the ocean. you stared at it before breaking the silence. 

“what does it feel like?” 

“what? hitting it?” she asked as she nodded towards the bong on the table. 

you nodded at her, and she shrugged before sarcastically answering. 

“it feels like you're smoking,” she said with dramatic jazz hands. 

you pushed her as she laughed, “obviously, bitch! i mean when you're high. people always talk about it hitting way harder than any other pipe.” 

“because it does! you choke hard as fuck if the rip is big but it feels good afterwards. you smoke, you know what i’m talking about. it’s… the peak is just more… intense with bongs? i guess, i don’t know. i can only take like…three or four good hits, not gonna lie.”

you nodded as you listened to her rambles. ellie’s tolerance was definitely higher than yours, but you could hang—which was one of the main reasons she liked to smoke with you. you always felt nervous to hit from a bong because of all of your friends' horror stories. you heard so many variations of how hard they greened out the first couple of times they did it, and though you’d never admit it to anyone, their experiences freaked you out. you always smoked weed to relax and sleep, not see god. 

“…hm.” 

“what?” ellie smirked at you when she heard your acknowledgement. 

you were looking at the bong intensely as you imagined what your high would be like if you were to smoke out of one: you’d be so embarrassed if ellie was forced to talk you down from a bad trip because you didn’t know your limits. but the mention of its intensity intrigued you. how intense would it be? would you be able to move? think? 

“you wanna hit it and see what happens?” 

her quiet voice caught your attention. you looked to your right and… oh. she was really close to you. when did she get so close? 

“…yeah.” 

you were now sitting criss crossed on the couch as ellie faced you, packed, water-filled bong and lighter in hand. 

“hitting is pretty easy, but your throat burns like crazy. this is my smallest one, but… yeah, it might choke you.” 

“‘s fine.” 

she hummed in acknowledgment before she said, “i’ll go first just so you can see.” 

you nodded as you watched her put her lips at the opening of the tube. she lit her lighter and circled her flame around the bud-stocked bowl, igniting the flower as smoke slowly began to fill the base of the bong. 

when she was satisfied with the rip, she detached the bowl from the stem and sucked in the smoke, exhaling a large cloud away from your face. she cleared her throat as she passed it to you, “see? easy.” 

you took the bong and lighter from her hands and inspected it. you heard her snort from in front of you, meeting her eyes as you looked up. “it’s not gonna bite you, dude.” 

“i fucking know that,” you said with a soft glare, making her laugh harder. 

she reached over towards the coffee table and grabbed the small baggie of your rolled blunts. she took one out and grabbed another lighter out of her hoodie pocket, lighting the end and puffed on it to ignite the weed. she hadn’t noticed that you’d been watching her the whole time with an intense gaze. 

she finally looked up at you and nodded at your occupied hands. “you gonna hit it?” 

fuck. yeah, you were. you were. you nodded hard. she mumbled out a soft you don’t have to, but you shook your head at her, yes, you do! 

you brought the opening towards your lips and looked at her for approval, earning a small nod as she exhaled her own smoke and smiling, “carry on, young pupil.” 

you lightly kicked your knee against hers, earning a soft laugh. you took a deep breath before igniting the bowl and watched smoke fill the base. you weren’t sure how long you should wait before you took a rip, so you met her eyes again, awaiting instruction. 

“you don’t need to smoke all of that. ‘s a lot.” she advised, slurring slightly, smoke pooling out of her nose as she spoke. you didn’t listen, though. 

you removed the bowl as she did, and sucked in all of it. you breathed out and instantly started coughing up both of your lungs as she laughed, grabbing you a water from the table, opening it, and passing it to you. you dropped the lighter and exchanged the large pipe for the water in her hand. “fuckin’ idiot, i told you not to.” 

you choked harder as tears flooded your eyes, but even in your time of weakness, you flipped her off. she giggled before pretending to bite it off. 

as your coughing eased, you slowly sipped from your bottle and wiped the tears off your cheeks. “bro, what the fuck.” you said dryly, sipping more water. 

she laughed hard at you as she lit and ripped from the bong again. 

some time passed and you were starting to feel… something different as you came up. you knew you were going to peak soon, but the lift was coming in much harder. much faster. it was making you a bit antsy. 

ellie must’ve noticed your unfocused looks around her living room because she aligned her eyes with yours and whispered out a hey. 

“hi… i think i feel… feel it,” you whispered back, a slight shakiness to your voice. 

“okay. want me to turn some music on?” and you nodded before she could even finish her gentle proposal. you watched her every move as she got up and swiftly made her way over to the kitchen, turning on her speaker. “what you wanna listen to?” 

“g-glock in my lap.” 

“everywhere i’m strapped,” she said as she mimed jerking off with her tongue out. she's so gross… why was it getting you hot? 

she busted out laughing at her own joke before she played it, queueing her own list of songs before returning back to the couch to get in her previous position. 

“what’s your craziest weed story?” you asked the minute she sat down, cutting mumbling of the lyrics off. 

“craziest weed story?” she asked softly as she reignited her stubbed out blunt. 

“bong story. craziest bong story,” you corrected yourself slurrily. oh, this shit was hitting. 

she huffed out a laugh before talking. “…i don’t know if you wanna hear that right now.” 

“why? was it that bad?” 

“it was the exact opposite actually.” she corrected softly. had she leaned a bit closer to you? you couldn’t tell. 

“one of the best highs of my life, to be honest. wish i could go back to that day and just to feel it again.” 

“what happened?” 

she was silent for a moment, looking into your eyes with an intense gaze. 

“i… i met this girl on hinge— don’t fucking laugh!” she said as she smiled. 

it made you laugh harder. “i’m not—i’m not trying to, i promise!” 

she rolled her eyes as she continued. “anyway, we linked up after talking for a bit, and she told me she wanted to match. i drove hours to see her, she was so fuckin’ hot.” 

you hummed as she continued, giggles completely forgotten as your vision tunneled in on her. “so, we meet and we go up to her room. i think… her roommate had company over or something, it was really noisy when i walked in. anyway, we spark up, we’re smoking, and she’s just like hit my bong with me!, and i said sure.” 

you’d been watching her lips move the entire time she was talking. she’d been biting and licking them as she reminisced while hitting the blunt, and it was making your body hot. 

“she hit it first and passed it to me, and i’m like… what the fuck do i do with this contraption? like, you have to understand that it wasn’t a bong like mine. it was wide and long as fuck and the rips were huge. anyway, she showed me but… she was so close to me. like this.”

she leaned closer to you, your noses almost touching. your breathing picked up. “she was just talking me through the first hit, light this, pull that, y’know.” 

to be frank, you didn’t give a shit about this story at all, but you would listen to it over and over again if it meant she’d be this close to your face—

“and sex while high feels so fucking good—“

“huh?” 

“what?” 

“who had sex while high?” 

“… me‘n my hinge date.” 

she squinted her eyes at you before she grinned. “were you listening?” 

“yup.” 

“right.” she said as she cheesed. 

there was silence as you both looked at each other, but she inched a little closer to you and whispered. “wanna know a secret?” 

you nodded instantly. anything anything—

“she made me cum really hard after i hit her bong, like i went completely brain dead.” 

and you sucked in a sharp breath at her little secret before saying, “i’m sure…” 

“you’re sure?” 

“yeah.” 

she nodded at you, passing you the blunt she'd been nursing before she scooted back to reach for her bong and lighter off the table. she hit it again and you watched. you watched her so closely. 

“what’d she do?” you asked as you took a bold hit before stubbing it out on the ashtray on the table.

“who? m’date?” she asked as she blew another cloud away from you. 

you nodded much harder than you should’ve, but you were so curious. 

she smiled at you before elaborating, “so… i hit it, i’m choking hard as fuck, but she’s handing me water and rubbing my back and all of that shit.” 

“i finally calmed down, and we both laid down on her bed, we’re like… facing each other,” she explained, trying to demonstrate their movements through her occupied hands. 

remember when you said you didn’t give a shit about this story? you did. you really did. 

“she just starts… rubbing on my arm and stuff. like barely, but i feel it, and i start relaxing. like… it feels like i’m sinking into her bed. she starts telling me how cute i am and whatever and then… she just kisses me. it’s real cute at first,” she said with a gentle grin. 

“but she… she grabs my hips and pulls me closer… i can’t even remember what happened but i end up on my back and she’s eating me out and fingering me,” she’d been looking off into the distance throughout the whole story, but reconnects her eyes with yours, and they slowly drift down to your lips and you want to kiss her so fucking bad—

“when i came, i kinda just… blacked out, i felt like my brain was gonna come out my ears…like, in a puddle or somethin’ crazy,” she had the audacity to giggle at her statement. she didn’t even care about how wet her story just made you, how rude! 

“…but yeah,” she mumbled and nodded, suddenly averting her gaze from your mouth. she leaned towards the bong in her hand, lighting and ripping from it again.

instead of politely blowing the smoke away from your face like she’d been doing, she held eye contact and blew the cloud towards you, and you breathed it in like you wished to breathe her in. she reached to the side to place the pipe and lighter back on her table and looked down at your twitching hands before she asked, “you okay?” 

you nodded slowly and dazed, slowly blinking at her, and she smirked as she leaned closer to you again. this was the closest she’s been to your face, and all you could do was study her. memorize every detail on her face. she's so, so pretty. 

“ellie.” 

“yeah?” she breathed out and you barely heard it. 

“kiss me.” you replied just as quietly. 

she licked her lips again as she looked down at yours. you were nearly panting like a dog and you could tell she was getting off to your desperation by the smirk on her face. 

you leaned closer to her in attempts to close the distance, but ellie moved away before you could. 

so you tried again. 

and she moved away again. and then she leaned back onto her propped elbows, one of her knees bent up. 

“c’mere.” 

you moved before you could think, shifting onto your wobbly knees to crawl on top of her, your hands on either side of her head as she straightened her legs out so you could straddle her waist.

you felt her warm hands grab your hips to squeeze them. you placed your weight on both your elbows and leaned down so you could finally kiss her. you want a kiss! you want a kiss now! 

your head was yanked back before you could connect your lips to hers, and you let out a shocked, wet gasp as you grinded down on her impulsively. you want more more more—

she snorted at your reaction before bringing her mouth up to your ear to whisper, “i want another hit.” 

her hand loosened in your hair as you watched her laugh at you with her head thrown back, a shocked expression on your face. no way she just played you like that!

“fuck you,” you said with an embarrassed pout as you sat up and moved off her lap, sitting the farthest away from her as you could. 

“i know you want to, hand me that lighter,” she said, nodding her head towards the table while giggling. 

you grabbed and threw it at her chest, making her laugh louder. 

hahaaaa i gotchu yall thought they were gonna fuck? SIKE but omg yall make sure to get high byeee

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Making snow angels but imagine this! Steve is the angel on your shoulder and Eddie is the devil! And and and one day you hit your head or something and you see both of them! It doesn’t even have to be romantic just like how would they explain why two random dudes are in your room after you wake up(imagine you hit your head, went to sleep) and next morning you wake up to two rando dudes sitting on your bed discussing something! Idk funny. This might be stupid but I just thought about it and how that conversation would go 😅😅

A/N: omg shut up I LOVE THAT!! *my brain immediately going to extremely smutty places and losing it at the wild possibilities*

Word count: 616

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“I think she can see us.”          

“I don’t know, maybe she just actually did get a concussion last night.”

Staring in complete and utter shock at the two strangers standing at the foot of your bed, your voice trembled as you asked, “w-who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Holy shit,” the one with long dark curls cursed. 

“Tell me right now or I swear I’ll scream!” you treated, scurrying up as close to the headboard as you could. 

“She can see us? She can see us,” the other one realised, “alright,” he looked straight at you, then wondered underneath his breath, “how the fuck do I do this…” flashing you a bright and slightly nervous smile, he said, “hi! I’m Steve and this is Eddie.”

“How did you get in my room?” your wild eyes darted from one to the other. 

“Well, we’re sort of always around you,” Eddie shrugged. 

“You-…” there was only one logical explanation to this. You had a stalker, or more accurately, you had two. “Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hurt you?” Steve’s brows furrowed as he swiftly sat down on the edge of the mattress, “we would never hurt you!”

“I mean,” the other’s ever-present smirk grew bigger, “unless you want us to-”

“Hold your split tongue for once in your life, Munson!” Steve snapped, glaring back at his partner. Dropping his harshness at once, he glanced back at you and spoke, “Y/n, don’t listen to him, just look at me and take a deep breath for a second.”

“Who are you? What do you want with me?”

Not waiting a second longer to respond, Eddie blurted out, “we are your shoulders’ devil and angel.”

“Dude,” Steve whipped his head around again, “you could have softened the blow a little.”

“Well, I’ve never done this before, what do you expect me to do?” he replied, defensively waving his arms around. 

“Is this some sort of joke?” you asked, still clutching your knees to your chest, “did Robin put you up to this?”

Looking you in the eye, Steve said, “I swear we’re telling you the truth.”

Still not convinced, you challenged, “then prove it,” not really sure what it was you were asking them to do. 

“Alright,” Eddie accepted the test, listing off confidently, “you usually always have oatmeal for breakfast but yesterday you had toast, 6 months ago you started lying to your friends and told them that you weren’t a virgin anymore, that you had fooled around with some guy during summer break when in reality you went away to visit your grandparents and spend your days playing bridge, and lastly, you say that pillow is only for decoration,” he pointed to the pink, firm one beside you, “but we are all well aware that’s not why you keep it on your bed…”

“I-…” your breath got caught in your throat, “but, you’re not on my shoulders…”

“Yeah, that part is more of an expression.”

“Holy shit… so you two are always here?”

“Always have, always will,” Eddie stated.

“Wait,” you winced, squeezing your eyes shut as you asked, “does that mean-, have you seen me naked?”

“Of course not,” Steve rushed to say, though Eddie swiftly corrected him. 

“Don’t lie, Steve, it’s not a good look on you. Yes,” he smirked, virtually singing the words, “yes, we certainly have.”

“Oh my god…” you sank down deeper, hiding your face in your knees. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, it’s a totally normal and natural thing,” you felt Steve’s fingers brush over your right calf, “we’re used to it, barely even notice anymore, I swear.”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, “that’s not what your dick said when she took a shower yesterday…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[crackedpumpkin]

ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɴɪɴᴇ ||

A/N: holy shit guys look its an update omg

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

The bed is cold. Your phone sits on the nightstand just right next to it, its usual buzz absent. The sun is slowly rising, its gold-dipped rays slowly but surely shining through the open window of your room. 

You, however, are in the kitchen with your mother who’s fussing over the table filled with numerous potted plants of different sizes. Some almost slapped you in the face with their leaves, while some were the size of your hand. Having walked into this mess first thing in the morning is not the way you expected to start your day. 

“Tell me where you got these from again?” You push away a leaf that nearly pokes you in the eye, glaring at the plant. The audacity. You’re lucky that my mom’s here, or I’d leave you out in the street.

Your mother rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh, a hand propped on her hip as she waters them. “It just slipped my mind that the delivery is coming today. Besides, I only ordered one. I don’t know how they delivered eleven. You should give some to your friends! It’s good feng shui.” She nods knowingly.

“They don’t believe in that stuff.” 

She shakes her head disapprovingly, moving some of the pots to the end of the dining table. “Oh? Do they open their umbrellas indoors too? Do they cut their toenails at night?”

“Only Michael from what I remember.” You recall, shuddering at the tiny detail your brain retained from the first day of school. 

“Don’t you have school today?” She asks as if only just remembering that her daughter is still a student. “What’re you still doing here? Go, go, go!”

“Calm down dude, we have a late day today. Only gotta be at school by eleven instead of eight.” You laugh, backing away slowly when she narrows her eyes at you. 

“I am not your ‘dude’, I’m your mother, young lady. Where did you learn how to be so impolite to your elders…” She sighs, shaking her head. 

“Jake taught me.” The mere mention of your brother’s name is enough to kill the easygoing atmosphere in the kitchen. You see her shoulders stiffen, though she pretends to continue organising the eleven potted plants. 

“Go take a shower, and get some breakfast outside. I haven’t gone grocery shopping yet.” Pretending that everything is okay is usually your parent’s default response, you’re not surprised by this in the least. 

“Sure,” You say breezily, making your way to the bathroom and swallowing the small lump in your throat. After emerging from your room and determining if you look presentable enough to be around society, you grab your bag and head to the door. 

On your way out, something catches your eye. You pause, eyeing the tiny bamboo succulent sitting on the dining table. “I’m taking this.” She nods in reply, too preoccupied with making a list of groceries to wave goodbye. 

"Peace offering," you murmur to yourself, a half-smile playing on your lips as you glance at the bamboo. The apartment door clicks shut behind you, leaving the atmosphere inside to the grocery list and the lingering traces of unresolved emotions.

Your pocket rustles as you move, shoving a hand in to take out the contract you had stuffed inside earlier. Staring down at the paper that pretty much holds both you and Miles together heightens your guilt for lying to him. 

Sure, maybe lying about your name isn’t a big deal to many, but he’d begun to actually bond with you -  you can tell that much. Furthermore, you’d mostly forgotten about the contract in hanging out with him during your sketching sessions, and it’d become almost a habit to refer to him as a friend in your mind.

But the betrayal on his face that day is more than enough to make you regret everything. Now though, is a chance to make it up to him. To apologise, and to make things right. That’s why you brought the contract along. You have to show him that you’re not a bad person. That you’re sorry.

And to do that, an olive branch is necessary in the form of caffeine. 

You pull out your phone and begin to text him. 

abuelita [ 10:15 AM ]: heya

abuelita [ 10:15 AM ]: are you free today? i have something to pass you

bug [ 10:30 AM ]: i have a couple mins after my evening patrol. 

bug [ 10:30 AM ]: ill be at the lion building rooftop

The rest of school fills you with nothing but nerves, anticipating your meetup with Miles. Even a study session at the library turns out to be unfruitful, to no one’s surprise. Nicole and Michael were initially concerned, but after a simple excuse of being on your period is made, no one else questions your mood.

You make your way to the meeting point, a coffee cup in hand. The hot liquid inside warms your hands in the cool evening breeze. It's a feeble attempt at mending the rift, a different kind of peace offering. The bamboo succulent rests in your hands, now neatly placed in a box. The lift doors open, revealing a lone unmasked superhero sitting down near the edge of the building. 

Upon hearing your footsteps, he turns and looks at you, barely acknowledging your presence with a nod. You wince internally, the lack of acknowledgement stinging more than you anticipated. As you approach the unmasked superhero watching the sunset, you can't shake off the unease settling in.

You sit down beside him. You sit down next to him, maintaining a careful distance. A subtle fidget in his posture hints at the underlying tension between you. He regards you with a mix of curiosity and wariness, taking in the objects in your hands.

“Peace offering,” you repeat, holding up the cup like a truce flag, a sheepish grin on your face as if you’re a five-year-old who got in trouble with their parents. However, Miles's expression remains stoic. He takes the cup from you, studying it with a discerning eye. You hold the gift out toward him, and he accepts it, placing it down beside him.

He takes a slow sip, and a moment of realisation crosses his features. "Is this an iced latte?" he asks, his tone more a statement than a question.

You nod, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Yeah, figured it's a classic. Universally accepted, right?"

Miles wrinkles his nose, pushing the cup away slightly. "I prefer my coffee hot."

Your grin falters, the awkwardness returning. "Right, noted. I'll remember for next time." Your words are cheerfully said, but there's an undeniable undertone of discomfort. “Can we talk?”

He hesitates, but his gaze flickers between the coffee cup in his hand, and the gift next to his bag. “Sure.” 

You sit down next to him, making sure to keep a distance between you both. Wouldn’t want to make him even more pissed than he is now, after all. The evening brings about serenity and peace as the sun begins to set, but a heavy weight hangs between you. You decide to address the elephant in the room. "Miles, I really am sorry. I messed up, and I want to make things right."

He looks at you, the seriousness in his eyes contrasting with the lighthearted atmosphere you tried to create. "Gifts and jokes won't change what happened."

The truth stings, but you nod, acknowledging his point. 

“But forgiveness isn’t fully out of reach, right?” You try once more with a hopeful grin, eyeing the mask next to him as you stand up, walking over to the edge of the building. He shrugs. 

“What makes you think I forgive everyone so easily?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re Spiderman.” You state simply, staring at the reflection of the glass opposite you. You look down at Miles who’s slowly standing up with wary eyes. The contract rustles as you pull it out of your pocket, watching his eyes grow wide. 

You stare at the signature on the bottom, a finger tracing the hurried scrawl of his name. The contract itself is the only thing tying you to him, the only reason he even still texts you. He’s the only reason why your art still has a motive - a point in each work. 

So, you rip the contract in half. The sound of torn paper fills the air, and you fold it before tearing it again. Again and again, until it’s torn to nothing but shreds on the ground. As the final piece of paper slips from your grasp, you raise your eyes to find Miles frozen in disbelief. His lips part in silent astonishment, fingers fumbling over words trapped on the tip of his tongue.

“Why?”

“Because,” You answer with a shrug, “You’re Spiderman.” A hesitant smile tugs at your lips, but beneath the surface, guilt gnaws at every fibre of your being. It's a battle, the conflicting emotions waging war within you. “You always save the day.” At that moment, you stare at the torn-up contract, bitterness rising in your throat. Underneath that though, is a genuine urge for forgiveness. 

Is this even enough for him to forgive you? 

Prove yourself. 

The back of your sneaker teeters on the edge, and you glance down at the ground below, gauging the distance. Breathing deeply, an idea occurs to you. A dangerous one.

His silence lingers, but an unexpected calm washes over you, a fragile serenity in the eye of the emotional storm. “You always save the day,” You repeat, “Even if I don’t deserve it.”

With that, you take a step back, watching horror dawn on his face as you fall. 

Miles stumbles forward, his voice caught in his throat. “No!” he shouts, reaching out as if he could defy gravity. His eyes widen, reflecting a mix of fear and realisation of the consequences of your impulsive act. 

The time taken to hurtle down a building toward the ground is much slower than you expect. You turn your head, watching the bright lights of various buildings cast a soft glow over the river nearby. The cityscape unfolds beneath you, a tapestry of shimmering lights that paint the skyscrapers with an ethereal glow. Despite the beauty, a profound sense of loneliness settles in, echoing the vastness of the city below.

It’s quiet.

The wind whistles past your ears, your hair whipping wildly around your face as you watch him dive down the side of the building, his mask back on his face as he holds out his arm desperately. 

A laugh bubbles past your lips, smiling as he reaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist and shooting a web, swinging you to safety. 

“Am I forgiven?” You whisper into his ear, arms on his shoulders as he continues to swing. 

“What?!” He answers loudly, bewilderment in his voice. “You jumped down just for that??”

“Yeah!” You lean back to take a proper look at him, adrenaline rushing through your bloodstream as if a hundred cans of Red Bull had been injected into you at once. “So am I?”

He doesn’t reply, shooting another web at a skyscraper. You smile brightly at him, waiting for an answer. His shoulders start to tremble, and he looks down at the streets below. You begin to hesitate, your smile falling. 

Is he mad? Was it too much?

Your questions are answered when he looks up, laughing his heart out. 

“You’re insane,” He huffs out with a shake of his head, the smile in his voice evident. He looks at you once more. “Yeah, you’re forgiven.”

With a relieved sigh, you press your forehead into his shoulder, closing your eyes. The tension releases from your shoulders, a silent acknowledgement of the emotional weight lifted. “...Can I still draw you?”

— — — — — 

The wind still echoes in your ears as Miles sets you down gently on the rooftop. Your sneakers meet the solid surface, and for a moment, you're both silent, catching your breath. The tension lingers in the air, but the overwhelming rush of adrenaline begins to subside.

Miles lowers his mask, revealing an expression caught between concern and bewilderment. You glance at him, a mixture of guilt and anticipation in your eyes. The cityscape stretches before you, a silent witness to the tumultuous emotions swirling between you two.

"Why didn’t you just say that you knew me?" he finally asks, his voice softer now, devoid of the superhero edge.

You wince, your gaze dropping to the ground.  “I didn’t mean to…In my defence, imagine being on the receiving end of a superhero’s wrath.” 

“I wasn’t wrath…ful.” He denies it, his hand over his heart with an offended look. This draws a chuckle out of you, shaking your head. “But I get it. Imagine being forced to sign a contract with someone who knows your real identity.”

You rub your arm uncomfortably. “You must’ve had a hard time," you admit, finally looking at him. "I’m sorry."

The weight of the apology hangs in the air, mingling with the echoes of your impulsive fall. Miles's eyes, once reflecting surprise and worry, soften as he meets your gaze.

The words feel inadequate, unable to fully capture exactly how regretful you feel, but your eyes convey the sincerity of your apology. However, it's too late for one. In this moment of vulnerability between you both, the full weight of your actions finally hits you. 

Miles' expression tightens, and a heavy silence hangs between you. The consequences of your deception weigh on the air, leaving an unspoken tension that neither of you can escape. His eyes flicker with a mix of frustration and concern. 

He struggles to find the right words, his clenched fists telling you all you need to know as his eyes dart away. “You don't understand. If my identity is exposed, it's not just about me. It puts everyone I care about in danger. I've seen what happens to heroes when their secret is out. Not everyone has the privilege of being safe.”

The weight of Miles' revelation settles heavily on your shoulders, a stark reminder of the unintended consequences of your actions. You’re at a loss for words, only capable of falling silent and staring at your fidgeting hands that have begun to peel the skin of your thumb. “I won’t tell anyone,” you promise, though you’re not entirely sure of how much it’d even matter to him. “I know I’m not exactly trustworthy-” The corner of his lips quirked up in faint amusement at the irony, “but I promise, I’ll never, ever, ever reveal your identity.”

You look up at him, hoping that your sincerity is conveyed through your words. 

Finally, he releases a breathy chuckle, looking down at his mask, and back up at the glowing lights below. For a moment, the gaping distance between you lessens. He glances at you with an accepting smile. 

“Okay.”

As you both settle onto the rooftop, the city sprawled beneath you, a newfound calm envelops the space. The laughter from earlier echoes, but it carries a different note now – one of shared understanding and the promise of a fresh start.

“Hey,” You turn, an idea taking root in your mind. “You’re smart, right?”

“Some might say so,” He agrees playfully with a nod.

At his response, you go on your knees, clasping your hands together in a sudden attempt to beg him. “Tutor me.” You begin to explain before he can react. “I got this huge test coming up, and I won’t be allowed to participate in my school’s art exhibit if I don’t pass. You gotta help me, dude!”

“What?” He’s taken aback by your sudden request, raising a brow. “Why me?”

“Because!” You point accusingly at him, “You go to that smart and fancy school, don’t you? Nicole already told me about how you won that scholarship and everything. Plus, you’re even doing all this Spiderman stuff on the side. Your time management skills are so much better than mine will ever be. Aren’t you a superhero? Don’t you have, like, super study skills or something?”

“Super study skills?” He says drily, and you realise exactly how stupid your words sound. However, you shake your head stubbornly, sticking to whatever you’ve said. “Well, since you’re clearly in need of help, and like you said - I’m a superhero, right? Guess I gotta rescue yet another helpless citizen.”

You smile excitedly, delighted that he’s agreed before what he says finally sinks in. “Did you just call me helpless?”

“So, what’s the test on?” He asks, ignoring your pointed glare. 

“Math and Science.” You decide to let it go because he did just save you from a rather dreadful demise. 

He purses his lips slightly, weighing his options. “Sure,” He nods, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise! I’ll even buy you tiramisu or whatever it is you wanna drink!” You exclaim happily, unable to stop yourself from hopping up and down from his agreement. 

He chuckles, readjusting his mask and shooting a web at the adjacent apartment building. “No problem. Just don’t tell anyone you have a superhero tutor, okay?”

“I solemnly swear.” You promise with a nod, watching him give you a two-fingered salute before gracefully swinging off, likely heading back home. You make your way back too, humming happily at the thought of future study sessions with your newfound superhero tutor and friend.

— — — — — 

As he enters his room after another day of swinging through the day as Brooklyn's one and only Spiderman, he tosses aside his mask and discards his suit. Another day, another citizen saved, as is the usual routine. Before he jumps into his bed, he pauses. 

He grabs his water bottle and pours some water onto the potted plant sitting on the windowsill, fingertips brushing against the delicate leaves that rustle with the breeze.

[darknoverse]

:,D for Costar and Aku

🫡omg yes boss lemme just

*cracks knuckles*

I love them so muuuuuuuuch in many ways. Ngl till now Costar gotta be one of my favourite s/i ever design wise and story wise . Probably the only one (aside from my two Mario s/I )that I perfectly planned every angle AAAAAA and I'm so glad people think so too ^^. Picking her design was so fun cuz it's 1- based on an inside joke and 2- based on so many cool design aspects I likes especially in 30s cartoons . It's so fun to work on ! Especially with how diverse samurai jack characters can be so it gave me so much creative freedom .

As for Aku like I really REALLY love his design so. much .One of the most iconics designs ever I SWEAR. Also love how much personality he has it's so fun he can I stantly switch between nightmare fuel to Saturday morning villain which is 10/10. Also the irreversible damage this mf caused to my brain years ago lol like that was pretty much one of the few villains that just made my brain instantly get interested in a show so MUCH it became more than just "wow cool show" . And honestly I think I liked him sm as a kid (and till now) is that he's literally everything I'm not ☠️ like man I wished I was like him , like dude has LAZER EYES . HOW COOL IS THAT???

along side how epic his theme is , it's so memorable and yet feels so uncanny it's 🤌🤌🤌. Also the whole introduction scene was insanely good I will bite through each frame/pos

Ig I love cosku sm they're my gooby goobers :3

[steveisagay]

American Pie

Steve Harrington x M!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Omg this took me longer (idk how long maybe a week) than expected, also I hope I didn't disapoint

Warnings: Male reader, internalized homophobia, slight cliff hanger, wrote this on my phone this time so I apologize if it didn't format well

Steve had watched Y/N and Eddie for weeks now, they didn't seem any different after he had found out that Y/N was gay. But maybe that's how they were, not everyone likes pda and that shit, especially in a small town like Hawkins. The two were bickering about a movie, Steve felt a pang, the same pang he felt everytime he saw them together. The smiles they shared, the gleam in Eddie's eye when he found a movie he wanted, just to immediately get shut down.

Steve let out a sigh, a loud sigh. He shifted from leaning on one elbow to the other.

"What's up with you?" Robin asked, lifting up a box of movies that needed to get back out on the floor.

"Nothing, all good here," He commented with a wave of dismissal, "Still have a problem with guys kissing guys apparently."

This time Robin let out a sigh, taking Fast times and some horror movie she'd never heard of out of the return. "Listen dingus, I really don't think that you of all people have a problem with that, like I've been saying this whole time," she took three more tapes out, "maybe you have some feelings you're just not ready to face..."

Her tone was almost condescending as she drifted off, Steve wasn't gay. Y/N was his friend and he just didn't want him around the drug dealer of Hawkins. Eddie was a good guy, barely surviving hell and back with him, but he wasn't for Y/N. Sweet, handsome, beautiful, Y/N. The only times he ever thought of him in that way was one day after gym in the locker rooms, but that was normal, he felt that way about almost all the dudes, Tommy, Billy, but that wasn't gay. Girls thought that steamy, wet guys were hot all the time, so it was universal. Atleast it should've been, if all of the looks he got throughout the years were a sign of anything.

There was one other time where Steve had seen Y/N in a less than friend-like way, when he was dancing around with Eddie. He knew Eddie was the touchy type, he knew you were always so nice with your friends, but that didn't mean he wanted to see it.

"How are you so oblivious?!" Robin let out, exasperated and almost too loud. Steve shot her a confused look. What was he being oblivious about?

Steve asked and asked but that was the end of it. Apparently he was the only person not in on this, maybe Robin was just fucking with him. She'd messed with him before, but not like this. What the hell was she hiding? Steve was never the smartest, he'd be the first to admit that, but he had thought about every possibility of why he felt like this. He'd also thought about if he was gay, he wasn't, if he was he'd know.

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

The last thing you expect when you're the town outcast is your phone to be ringing at 6 in the goddamn morning, but here Eddie was. He had been debating on whether or not to answer, if it was some highschool dickhead he didn't wanna seem like an idiot or something like that. But what if it was Uncle Wayne's work? What if something went wrong while he was at work?

He picked it up to hear a faint voice on the other side.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Oh, uh yeah, it's Steve," He seemed almost fearful, what the hell did the former king of Hawkins high have to be scared of. The thought bounced around his brain a moment, what if it was something with the upside down. "Do you think we could meet up at all, just to talk about something?"

Suddenly it was his turn to feel fearful, he'd already survived hell and in no way was he going back, "Yeah sure, swing by anytime," he quickly said, pretending like his mind wasn't swirling.

About an hour later Steve got there, he seemed fine, a little nervous but fine. Meanwhile Eddie was pacing the length of the trailer ever since the two got off the phone.

"What's wrong? Is it something with the upside down? Is that Vecna creep back?" He forced out of his mouth before he could think. Why the hell would it take a whole hour for Steve to get there if it was that important?

"No, no, there's no more upside down," Steve drifted off, whatever was bugging him had to be worth losing sleep over, because under his hair routine and polo the eye bags were too noticable from this close. "It's just... do you think we could go inside for this?"

"Yeah, sure sure," He couldn't stop trying to guess what was up. Was it Nancy? Was something up with the kids? Was he struggling with the effects of literal hell?

He didn't miss the way his bones seemed to sink into the couch cushion. "Sooo, what's bugging ya, king Steve?"

His eyes darted around the room anxiously, "Well, uh, how'd you know you..." His throat seemed to close up, stopping any of the words from falling out, "you..."

"Are you trying to ask how I knew I was gay?" Eddie assumed correctly. "Oh my god, king Steve is gay, who could've know?" He fell on the couch next to Steve, throwing his hands up dramatically.

"I'm not gay, it's just..." He paused, wanting to leave, get out, stop talking about any of this. He wasn't supposed to be like this. "Guys are hot, everyone thinks guys are hot so I just need to know what the difference is so I know that I'm not," he left the last part unspoken, his voice was hurried and he sounded almost terrified.

Eddie had to stop himself from laughing, "not everyone thinks guys are hot, Robin doesn't think guys are hot. Jeez you really must have spent too much time in the locker room back when you were on the team."

"So, does that mean I'm gay?" His eyes were wide, way too wide.

"I can't be the one to tell you that, have you found guys, well, emotionally hot?" He let out a chuckle at that one.

"I guess," he stopped to think about it, "but why do I always feel like shit when I see you and Y/N together?"

"Wait wait wait, what?!?!?!?" This time Eddie's eyes were wide as the moon. "Have you been jealous of me and Y/N?"

"What? I'm not jealous, what do you mean?" He almost seemed offended.

"If you find a guy hot, feel like shit when you seem him having a good time with another guy, it means you're jealous and have feelings for said guy," he shot him a smirk, "Atleast last time I checked."

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, it did make sense. It made a lot of sense. Jesus Christ he was gay.

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

And that was how Stephen Harrington found himself standing outside the same door he'd entered time and time before. Only this time with the anxiety of not just finding out he was gay, but finding out that he had feelings for the guy who helped him get over Nancy. Maybe he did get attached to him after having her stomp on his heart and call everything they ever had bullshit. He fiddled with the fabric of his polo as he waited for Y/N to answer the door.

He knocked, waited, knocked again and then waited. The lights were on, his car was in the driveway. Steve was almost positive they left on good terms last time, did he still not want to see him?

His attention was immediately grabbed again when the door finally opened. "Hey Stevie, what're you doing here?" Y/N said with a small chuckle. God he was pretty, he'd always been pretty, maybe Steve was just blind, or an idiot.

His words closed up in his throat. He never expected to fall in love with his bestfriend, let alone get this far. "Yeah, uhm, yeah I had something I wanted to talk about,"

"Okay..? What's up?" Him and Y/N stood there. Before the seconds could stretch to minutes could stretch to hours, Steve leaned in. It was rushed and more nervously delivered than any other kiss he'd ever given. What happened to the king, well, apparently the other guy he was kissing did.

Y/N's hands first met his forearms, moving up to his shoulders and then to the small hairs on the back of Steve's neck. The higher he went the deeper the kiss became. Soon the brunette's tounge was exploring his mouth with a sort of hurried reckless abandon. It was almost like Steve was scared he'd push away, or that he'd wake up just to find out that it was a dream.

He then suddenly broke the kiss suddenly. Y/N seemed confused and enamored. Steve finally answered his question from before, "I love you," his eyes shone with those words before second guessing himself, "At least I'm pretty sure."

I GOT IT DONE

My (platonic) loves: @justaholycorpse @sad1st1c-wh0re

[beastblade69]

the great reason of me becoming fixated on one flew is literally my fixation MY MADLY STRONG FIXATION on everything related to psych wards and psychiatry overall. but like idkk, I'm literally watching dozens of movies about psych wards, my books are mosty only about psych wards, STILL MY BRAIN'S CHOSEN TO FIXATE ON ONE FLEW. WHY?? I HAVE NO CLUE. I WAS LIKE. I just finished watching hannibal series back then and remembered about our teacher telling us about one flew over the cuckoo's nest aka "the movie about how mental patients were treated not so long ago". obviously I became excited because of my fixation. so I've watched the movie. AND OMG, I LITERALLY COULDN'T QUIT THINKING ABOUT IT FOR ALL NIGHT LONG. still I hoped that it wasn't a fixation obsession, just like yk sometimes you get that average obsession that fades away pretty quickly. BUT NUH, WHEN I WOKE UP NEXT DAY I STILL WASN'T ABLE TO THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE BUT ONE FLEW. AND SO YEH, UNFORTUNATELY FOR ME IT WAS A FIXATION. unfortunately because THIS FUCKING SHIT IS DRAMATIC AF AND NOT THAT SILLY AS MY USUAL HYPERFIXATIONS WERE (literally metalocalypse and gwar. two silly ass bands). SO YES, I'VE ORDERED A BOOK THAT MORNING AND SHIT MY LIFE WAS NEVER THE SAME AFTER THEN. I'LL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS BOOK. but actually if we're comparing a book's and movie's ending I'd prefer the book's one (with all my love towards final movie gay scene, but nuh, book's def better) because in the book mcmurphy at least prevailed over the system. and almost everyone was released (not tge poor billy boy unfortunately 😔😔😔): harding finally got better and left, some other patients also left or switched wards. my beloved girlie aka chief finally got out and ratchet was defeated. it's almost a happy ending if comparing to the movie, where mcmurphy died literally for nothing. movie mcmurphy is not that deep at all, just a silly a bit stupid dude so yeah, okay, I wasn't expecting something deep from him anyways

[vivianette]

🍓AN: I wrote this instead of doing my coding assignment🤨 also was originally gonna be nsfw but idk he makes me so soft bruh no joke

🍓synopsis: Chifyu is a big fan of cliches but never in a million years he thought he’d ever experience one himself, love at first sight.

🍓Pairing: Matsuno Chifuyu x Female Reader

🍓Warnings: just pure fluff my dudes and a down bad fuyu also that I never proof read>:)

You first got to know chifuyu from your calculus class when you saw him reading one of your fave webtoons on his phone. Since you two were the only students to show up 20 minutes earlier to class.

“Omg is that the new chapter?” You blurt out without thinking, your sudden voice shocked him a bit, he was just minding his business reading on his phone until you sneaked up on him from behind.

He turns back and sees you standing, now Chifyu is a big fan of cliches but never in a million years he thought he’d ever experience one himself, but life is full of surprises isn’t it? Because as soon as his eyes fell upon you it was love at first sight. I mean it isn’t everyday when a beautiful girl talks to him asking him about the webtoon he’s reading.

He blinks a few times when he remembers that usually when a question is asked, you are supposed to answer it, ideally in the same century. “Oh? Oh yeah umn it uploads every Monday”

He notices you raising your eyebrows,somewhat acknowledging the information he shared with you as you’re quick to make yourself comfortable in the empty chair beside him. The way his eyes follow your every moment and then back to your eyes which makes you say “oh I’m so sorry is this seat taken?” You were about to get up worried you’ve been neglectful about the personal space of a stranger you just met but he shakes his head “no no don’t worry my friend usually sits here but he also usually skips Mr Yamamoto’s class every chance he gets” chifuyu will make sure to buy baji some yakisoba later for skipping class today, did him a solid for making the seat available for this mystery pretty girl “Oh alright thank you” you smile so warmly at him that it makes him hear wedding bells.

“I’ve been so busy with classes that I barely got any time to catch up on the story” you say continuing the conversation before he can get the chance to thank you. And you once again rob the him chances of saying anything as you scoot a bit closer to look at his phone screen. Chifuyu might claim he had his fair share of interacting with women in his life like the lady at the bakery who often gives him a dorayaki because she knows his mother and he has tutored his lil cousin before and didn’t his neighbour once asked him for sugar?-‘oKAY FINE I’m a big loser who hasn’t interacted with any girl my age’ he thinks to himself but even still he never thought he’d act the way he is right now when a girl approaches him. He notices you pointing at his phone screen “oh no way! You read on lehzin?!” You ask.

‘snap out of it!’ A little voice inside scolds him as he gulps to get rid of his mouth that feels like sandpaper, how the hell do you look so bright and radiant on Monday morning at a 8am class?

“Uh oh yeah where else would I read?” he chuckles a bit nervously because his brain just told him he replied quite rudely, ‘did I?’ ‘No of course not it was a pretty normal response’ ‘but I made it souNd weird!!’ He shakes his head gosh the fuck is wrong with him today. He notices how your holding back a smile like you’re embarrassed “oh my god you’re gonna make sound like a criminal when I’ll tell you that I kinda stopped using paid websites a long time ago for mangas and webtoons” you kinda wince at your lil crime confession. You look so cute right now, he can tell you’re embarrassed and he can’t help but let out a deep laugh, a hearty one that made your ears happy to witness such beautiful sounds.

“heyY! Just so you know I do prefer buying the physical books alright they are a more fun experience and I’m all about supporting authors and stuff but I got desperate okay!” there’s a pout on your lips, omg there’s a POUT! If chifuyu could see himself in third person he’d slap himself, really he would. He’s acting like a teenage girl and he doesn’t even know your name!

He smiles “I’d never judge you, trust me you haven’t seen my friend baji, the same who is currently skipping, he does far more illegal stuff than you reading on mangago” “Omg so you DO know the forbidden website” you fake a gasp putting your hand in your chest. He raises both his hands in surrender jokingly “I got desperate okay” he quotes you from earlier that makes you laugh. ‘Okay so he’s cute and funny’ you take a mental note

“But hey I have all the other work of the same author as this one, not to brag but I’ve got a pretty good collection of mangas with similar themes as this one, if you like you can come by my place I’ll lend you some” he says immediately as soon as his brain forms the sentence without thinking twice that he’s basically telling a potential crush (who you are not supposed to embarrass yourself in front of!!) about his virgin hobbies. He’s a mess today and the sweet perfume you’re wearing isn’t helping at all.

“Damn shawty at least get me dinner first” you joke back instantly cringing at the word choice but when you see the boy in front of you completely dumbfounded with the tip of his ears burning red along with most of his face, you started feeling bashful yourself. “Well in that case you didn’t even tell me your name” he says shyly scared to maintain eye contact for more than three seconds as you form an ‘o’ with your mouth “oh so rude of me to not even introduce myself!” You tell him your name as he repeats it. Both of you liking the way it rolls off his tongue. ‘Y/N’ it sounds to natural to him, like he has been saying nothing but your name for his entire life. In exchange he tells you his name and you think that it suits him, pretty boy with a prettier name.

The teacher started the lecture and you sat beside him throughout the period. He helped you a lot actually pointing out important points to include in the notes you were taking and being kind enough to even let you copy his when the teacher was going too fast for you to keep up.

You pack your things after the class ends and Chifuyu stands up with you “hey so since we have an hour long break before the next class do you wanna read the latest chapter?” He holds up the iPad he was taking notes in “and maybe I don’t know?get a snack?” Chifuyu himself doesn’t know where the sudden burst of confident came from but he thank the gods above when you agree enthusiastically with a wide smile on your face.

[mynonclicheblog]

I can’t get over how grown Ben looked on 410 for some reason, maybe because they let Karen keep a little bit of his stubble on the bed scene but he looks so grown it’s kind of sweet.

Omg yes, dude, I cannot even tell you. Every time I watch that scene of them in the bed with the sun pouring in, my brain goes, without fail: "God, they look like ADULTS here they're so GROWN UP!!!" I agree with you on Jaren!

The whole vibe of the scene helps, too. Just them soaking in their love and the morning glow and finally knowing what it's like to be together without any confusion or drama. They are stepping into a real, mature relationship. It's glorious.

[xplrvibes]

ive decided i will commentate this one but it likely won’t be as long as the others bc like i dnt feel good. anyway…

im starting this commentary 4.5 minutes in so here is where we start.

this is the snc era where i loved both their fashion styles so much 🙌🏼

Ooh they meet steve and dylan here. i rly like them 🥰 you can tell dylans a cop bc of the way he stands back and watches everyone lol

this house is stunning

I thought colby had a little yellow rubber ducky on his belt and i didnt even question it… my brain is not braining (update it was his phone)

steves hot. there’s no denying it. that man is a man.

I got distracted looking at steve and now colbys in a casket what on earth ☠️

I dont get the fear of bats… why are they so scared of bats? I love bats… 🦇

I just realised they never said “whats up guys its snc” sad sad

i was gonna say snc need to start using pelican cases foe their gear but actually i hate moving pelican cases so props to them for risking thousands of dollars of gear on a camera bag 🙏🏼 bc honestly same. i carry my personal kit in a $5 backpack 🤷🏻‍♀️

i blissfully almost forgot the other one was in this video for a while bc he wasn’t making much of a presence. shattered.

i know theyre tripping out but thats an awesome pic of josh tbh

the ghost wants to talk to them in heaven? that’s fk up

“are they trapped somewhere?” “yeah… help” 😳

“borden… awful” they said it not me

dude i wanna be a petty bitch and not believe seth rn but he genuinely looks freaked out.

josh is really really good at estes. like damn…

“im coming” relatable when colby’s in the room

this is getting insane wtf

steve could tell me santa claus was real and id believe him 🥺

steve saying this is their first time experiencing such a drastic change in activity at this house (and theuve been here over 50 times)… again, further proof of snc being in the psychic realm bc this stuff always happens to them. always. and its bc colbys the psychic and sams the guide. fk

lmao steve and dylan being like nah dudes we dipping we got work in the morning lmao

k done - aussie anon

Oh, if you like Steve and Dylan and you haven't already done so, check out the prison video they did with them and Nate, Our Horrifying Night in Haunted Prison (as seen below, cause there's two prison episodes right near each other in the lineup):

This one is good for some "Colby just casually does psychic things" moments, too.

But yea, I enjoy Steve and Dylan quite a bit.

And omg, honestly, I'm just glad they finally got a regualr suitcase a couple of years ago, at least for the airport part of the travel. Prior to that, everything went into backpacks and duffel bags. 💀

But they must insure their shit (or they're just that rich lol), cause when all their crap including their new camera and light got stolen that time they were able to replace it like a week later, so I guess they figured as long as they protect the SD cards they can figure the rest out. 🤷‍♀️

And yea, this happens a lot cause of the energy these two are creating with their very presence, but what the hell do we know 🤣

[sourmiguel]

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To the Mob? by RedRidingStiles (wc10089, mature)

Summary: “Are you my sugar daddy?” Stiles blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth when his brain catches up to his mouth. The man lets out a soft laugh, making his way around the couch till he’s standing just feet away from Stiles. Stiles can smell his cologne from here, it smells heavenly, Stiles kinda wants to bury his face into the guy's chest so he can figure out exactly what it is. “If that’s what you’d like to call it.” The man smiles, Stiles doesn’t think he should be allowed to smile like that. All soft and gorgeous and way too pretty to be legal. He’s still not convinced any of this is real. Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it.

This is so fun! Secret, mystery sugar daddy fic. Stiles gets so spoiled, and you know what? He deserves it. So does Derek.

*Double Rec Incoming!* Two fics for the price of one!

A Love Like Religion by @doctortay (wc10696, explicit)

Summary: “Derek, my man, you missed an epic party on Saturday. Seriously, dude, I know morning Mass is like, your thing, but come on. You’re missing on out so much life has to offer, bro.” Big hands land on shoulders with a thump and a squeeze while Derek stands at his locker, loading his gigantic calculus book into his backpack. He gives his best friend a practiced sidelong glare, which of course just encourages him. “You’ll change your mind when I tell you who sucked me off in Lydia Martin’s bedroom,” Stiles snickers into his ear.  Despite himself, Derek is curious. He tries to hide it by focusing on his books, but he knows the heat in his cheeks betrays him. “Who,” he asks, giving in, knowing he will eventually.

Ugh I'm a sucker for BFF High School AUs. Like, seriously. This is the best.

*But wait, there's more!* One more short one, just for you!

sincerely, derek by @stileshale (wc8176, mature)

Summary: September, 2009 Hi Stiles, it’s Derek. Derek Hale, from space camp. I’m writing this in English because my teacher Ms Grady said I had to write about my summer, but I spent my summer with you, so I decided to write to you, instead. Please write back. Love from Derek.

Omg Space Camp Nerd Pen Pals?! Yes. All the yes. so good. Go read it.