#I HATE THEM BITCHES GAY

[arthur-lesters-missed-jugular]

I AM ILL I AM SOBBING I AM ON MY KNEES

ep 43 doodles that are weeks late bc I forgot about them OOPS

[sharlinefreire]

canon mlm rep be like "i like a boy..but im!?!? also a boy!? >-<??" meanwhile queerbaiting "if you die i'm alone".

[unknown-cold]

Happy New Year to you Guys🎉💛✨️✨️💛🎉

And to my two favorite characters in this year Caitlyn&Vi

After all the horrors they went through, I'm glad they ended up being together.

[theythemmer]

phinktober day 11: ur fav AU

i dont rlly do AUs so i just drew them how i wish they would dress xo

(dan’s tats r carnations and snowdrops and phil’s r roses and honeysuckle. for no reason 🤗)

ALSO bonus version w makeup bc i couldn’t pick <3

[weloverarepairs]

kaminari can’t just be straight look at this damn idiot and tell me he’s 100% straight

-owner 1

[hellonerf]

a snuff film, my slug record

[numberoneredriotfan]

Bakugou being Rodydeku's #1 hater is pure comedy to me

[marzipaint]

they're annoying

[cypresswood3]

Stay in Addison au. Arthur's stay in the estate, part 2 to this.

It’s probably late. There’s an antique clock in his room – its ticking ever-present, yet perfectly useless. Arthur swallows the irritation that starts to bubble within his chest. He contemplates asking Yellow. Would that make him the bigger person? Point out how immature Yellow’s being for no reason, or –

Or give him attention for acting out. God knows what ideas Yellow could get from Arthur still reaching out for him despite his behavior. That Arthur’s a pushover? Yeah, no.

It’s probably late, but Arthur can’t sleep. Which is weird: insomnia was hardly something he struggled with for the last few days. Perhaps he has overslept.

Him and Andrew usually parted early on in the evening. Andrew had an extensive self-care routine to attend to – another thing Arthur would've raised an eyebrow at before. Now though, he could almost say he got it.

All that to say, he had no idea whether Andrew was asleep or not by now. All he knew was it wouldn't hurt to check.

He makes his way through the halls with surprising familiarity. He barely stumbles over the rug as he walks forward, then left, then forward again, until he should be by Andrew's bedroom door. Arthur thinks how he got here without a word from Yellow and hums, pleased with himself for a short moment – until he remembers it was his desperation for company that brought him here to begin with.

He stands there, considering. He wouldn’t barge into his host's bedroom without a good reason, and neither did knocking and possibly waking him up feel right. An unpleasant feeling of wrongness rises up Arthur's chest as he leans in towards the door, ear pressed against the polished wood. He's met with silence, and despite his best efforts, he can't pick up a sound. He was expecting to hear Andrew snore, shift or move around if he was not in bed yet. It's too quiet for a room with a person inside, perhaps he did have the wrong door after all  –

"Arthur," Andrew's voice calls behind him, and Arthur jolts, feeling the tips of his ears burn crimson. Larson's voice lacks any accusation – if anything, he sounds amused, but it serves no purpose to calm Arthur's rapidly beating heart.

"Andrew! I was just... Just, uh..." He hasn’t quite thought this through, has he? Sure, Andrew caught him off guard, but what would Arthur even say if he hadn’t? ‘I can’t sleep’? And what, pray tell, was Andrew Larson supposed to do about it?

“You wanted to see me? Please,” Andrew says, walking past him and pushing the bedroom door open. Arthur blinks, despite his blindness, once again baffled by just how easy Larson was all the time. Arthur couldn’t list all the times he knew he was acting weird, and even Andrew’s knowledge of the otherworldly shouldn’t have made him immune to surprise, or… well, awkwardness. Nothing has ever seemed awkward for Andrew Larson.

He realizes Andrew is waiting for him and makes a hesitant step forward. The door shuts softly behind him. Arthur’s skin prickles at the way the air shifts as Larson moves past him.

And then he starts to talk. Unprovoked, without making Arthur go through the agony of asking.

He immediately feels better, the sound of Andrew’s voice filling the aching emptiness in his skull. He’s simply thinking out loud, and Arthur relishes it, allowing Andrew’s thoughts overwrite his own, ever unpleasant.

Rustling of sheets startles him. He assumes Andrew is getting in bed, which should be a clear indication for Arthur to wish him sweet dreams and leave. He hopes disappointment doesn’t show on his face as he sucks in some air to speak –

"Would you rather sit down?" Andrew suddenly asks him, matter-of-factly and courteous as always. Arthur hesitates, not sure where in the room he could find a place to sit – until he hears what sounds awfully like Larson moving aside to make space for him.

Arthur lowers himself on the sheets, tense and hesitant, already planning how he'd explain himself if he got that implication horribly wrong.

Andrew simply continues to talk, and Arthur assumes he didn't.

Arthur awakes to warmth coating his body like melted chocolate, clinging to every inch of his skin. The blanket weighs on him in a way that creates illusion of a companion: Arthur allows himself to enjoy the thought before he’s awake enough to feel embarrassed about it. It’s the first morning in quite a while when everything feels right, from his pleasantly empty head to –

…deep, even breathing beside him. Arthur instinctively turns his head to look, seeing nothing, of course, but memories of last night still come flooding into his head. He had fallen asleep in Andrew's presence before, but his bed…

How could he let this happen? He should’ve known to leave when he started feeling drowsy, and how did he even end up under the blanket at all? Did he seriously invade Andrew’s room and then his resting place, leaving him no choice but to put up with it? Exploiting his welcome so shamelessly? Just how needy has he become?

Arthur considers whether he can slip away unnoticed, experimentally squirming towards the edge of the bed. Andrew hums in his sleep beside him and Arthur stills, sucking his breath in as he feels Larson’s arm grip him tighter, – god, that was his arm weighing on Arthur’s chest, – until he relaxes again.

Athur’s mind is torn between shame and euphoria. More warmth seep into him where their skin touches, and Arthur finds himself yearning for each new breath Andrew lets out, feeling it prickle at his neck and cheek. The weight of another body beside him is enough to make his eyelids flutter shut again.

Arthur slows his own breathing until it matches the other’s, sinking back down into the soft bedding. Nothing was ever awkward for Andrew Larson, he thinks, and somehow it works wonders to calm him down.

[sharlinefreire]

[megumiifushiiguro]

they invoke such normal feelings in me. they make me smile just thinking about them. they are so fluffy and sweet. i don't want to rip my hair out, chew glass and bang my head against a wall while thinking about them AT ALL. they are my therapy instead of my reason of therapy fr. i love them in a healthy amount and don't think about them that much AT ALL.

[badtzsmile]

Andrej comic bc I love him + More doodles below the cut

[where-the-warren-ends]

Splitting The High Part 2

Thanos (choi su-bong) x Nam-gyu [Final part]

TW/CW: Drügs and implied internalized homophobia

Summary: my god....these bitches gay...good for them

The dormitory spun around Thanos like a warped vinyl record, the cheap ecstasy crawling through his veins, amplifying everything—the hum of the fluorescent lights, Nam-gyu's laugh echoing in his ears, the heat radiating from his own body. Except this time, the high wasn’t smooth; it didn’t lift him. It slammed into him like a bad beat drop, all static and distortion.

Nam-gyu, sprawled on his side, was giggling at nothing, his cheeks flushed red as he poked at the tiles. “Yo, Thanos,” he slurred, his voice high-pitched and carefree. “These tiles feel like... like marshmallows, bro. Squishy. Weird.”

Thanos sat rigid, his jaw clenched tight. He couldn’t ride Nam-gyu’s carefree wave, not when his own mind was pulling him under. That kiss earlier—it hadn’t left him. It clung to him, sharp and heavy, dragging him into a spiral he couldn’t escape.

'What the hell was that, man?' his inner voice snarled, every syllable dripping venom. 'You’re trippin’. Acting like some fool over a dude? What’s wrong with you?'

He shook his head, trying to drown it out, but the voice only grew louder. Years of pushing down feelings he didn’t want to name came rushing back like an overdue reckoning. He had built himself into a persona, a shield of bravado and rhymes sharp enough to cut anyone who got too close.

But Nam-gyu? Nam-gyu slipped through the cracks.

“You good, bro?” Nam-gyu’s voice broke through the noise in Thanos’s head. He was staring at him now, his lopsided grin fading into something softer. Concerned.

“I’m fine,” Thanos lied, his voice rough like gravel. He leaned back, trying to look unbothered, but his knees bounced with nervous energy.

Nam-gyu tilted his head, a lazy, dreamy smile tugging at his lips. “Nah, you’re not. You’re all... tense, like you’re about to beat the shit outta someone.”

Thanos snorted, though it came out sharper than he intended. “Yeah, well, maybe I am.”

Nam-gyu blinked, then broke into laughter, loud and carefree like a hyena. “Who, bro? Yourself? Yo, Thanos vs. Thanos. I’d pay to see that!”

Thanos glared at him, but it didn’t stick. Nam-gyu’s laughter was infectious, even now, and it tugged at a corner of his mouth he didn’t want to admit was softening.

Nam-gyu crawled closer, his movements slow and unsteady, until he was sitting inches from Thanos. “You’re so serious all the time. You should laugh more. It’s good for you.”

Thanos scoffed. “Ain’t much to laugh about.”

Nam-gyu tilted his head again, his eyes half-lidded from the high, but still sharp enough to see right through him. “That’s 'cause you keep everything locked up. You’re like... like a vault. Or a... uh...” He frowned, searching for the word. “A... burrito. Yeah. All wrapped up and spicy.”

Thanos blinked, caught off guard by the ridiculousness of it. “A burrito? For real?”

Nam-gyu grinned. “Yeah. But, like, a sad burrito.”

That pulled a laugh out of Thanos, low and reluctant, but real. “You’re stupid, Nam-su”

“Maybe,” Nam-gyu said with a shrug, his smile softening. “But at least I’m not scared. And it's Nam-gyu, moron”

That hit harder than Thanos expected, the words sinking deep and latching onto something raw. He looked away, his hands clenching into fists.

“I ain’t scared,” he muttered, more to himself than to Nam-gyu.

“Yeah, you are,” Nam-gyu said, leaning closer, his voice soft now, almost a whisper. “You’re scared of... this.” He gestured vaguely between them. “Of, like, feeling stuff. It’s not a bad thing, you know.”

Thanos’s chest tightened, the walls he had spent years building threatening to crumble under Nam-gyu’s words. He wanted to push him away, to laugh it off, to deny everything. But the warmth of Nam-gyu’s proximity, the way his gaze held no judgment, only curiosity—it made it impossible to run.

“I’m not...” Thanos started, his voice faltering. He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Nam-gyu reached out, his hand brushing against Thanos’s. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice so soft it barely reached above a whisper. “You don’t have to say it.”

Something inside Thanos snapped. The tension, the fear, the shame—it all came crashing down, leaving nothing but raw, unfiltered need.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, his lips crashing against Nam-gyu’s. It wasn’t careful or calculated; it was messy, desperate, and full of everything he couldn’t put into words.

Nam-gyu froze for a second, then melted into it, his hands finding their way to Thanos’s shoulders as he kissed him back. His laughter was still there, soft and breathy against Thanos’s lips, like the kiss itself was the funniest, most unexpected joke he’d ever heard.

When they finally pulled apart, Nam-gyu was grinning, his eyes bright and dazed. “Well, damn,” he said, his voice a little breathless. “That was way better than the pill.”

Thanos laughed, a real, unguarded laugh that felt like a release. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Nam-gyu agreed, his grin widening. “But you kissed me, so what does that make you?”

Thanos shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “Maybe just another kind of fool.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, it didn’t feel so bad.

[damifrfrx-x]

sowwy :c i got into fpe now :c (dw i still have the power of gregory in me/hj)

YURRIIIIIISJKXNSODN

[alienfailboy]

season 8 makes me SICK

[musicalmoritz]

There is not a single straight bone in Mitsuba’s body like I genuinely believe that man could never like a woman. Sousuke I know what you are