#Idk wtf this is

[lordsukunas]

satoru’s fingers dig into the squishy flesh of your cheeks, holding your face still. “quit moving.”

he smirks at your irritated huff, but you stay in place as he pops a blue raspberry jolly rancher into his mouth. the hard candy begins to melt in the heat of his mouth, saliva making it all glossy and sticky.

slowly, but definitely surely, judging by how hot both of your faces grow, satoru’s lips inch closer to yours until you can taste the sugary remnants of the candy.

his tongue darts out, gently licking your bottom lip, and he raises his eyebrows. the ball is in your court now.

a tiny part of you is scrunching its nose at this. this is disgusting. satoru is feeding you a piece of candy like you two are penguins, and you know this is gonna involve a lot of blue spit.

his words echo in your mind, shushing that little judgemental voice. “aw, c’mon. it’s no different than making out, honeybun.”

so, you swallow past the lump in your throat and part your lips, allowing your boyfriend to push the melting jolly rancher into your mouth with his tongue.

like expected, it’s wet, soaked with your boyfriend’s spit, but it tastes... sweeter, almost. like he’s blessed it, somehow.

you hum, and satoru leans back, those big, bright cerulean eyes tracking every twitch in your expression. are you disgusted? annoyed? did you enjoy it? you’ve always been hard to read, an aspect he both admires and struggles with.

he hears the faint crunch of you chewing the hard candy down. you didn’t spit it out, so...

“ya liked it?”

please tell me you liked it.

satoru might finally put himself in that grave he’s long since dug if you hate this.

he watches your throat bob a bit once you swallow, and then you nod. “kinda weird, though,” you grumble.

his smirks widen into that familiar triumphant grin. “i knew you’d like it! and it’s ‘posed to be weird, baby, that’s the point.”

[sophsicle]

Dial Drunk

He's drunk.

"James--"

Sober enough to know he's drunk. But drunk enough not to care.

"James please--"

Sober enough to hear the crack in Remus's voice. But drunk enough not to stop.

"I want to call him," he says, defiant. Childish. It feels good to say those words. He doesn't know why he didn't do this before. It seems so simple now. "I want to call him."

Sirius is across the room. A few seconds ago he'd been on James's other side, holding his arm, helping Remus pull him to his feet. He isn't touching James anymore.

"Where's my phone?" his words are a little thick. A little slurred. The world around him blurry in a way that makes his stomach squirm.

"I don't know," Remus mutters, struggling to support James all on his own. "Here, will you just sit down please? Sirius, maybe get him some water?"

"Sirius where's my fucking phone?" because he knows Sirius knows. Because he wants Sirius to look at him. Because he wants Sirius to feel this too.

Predictably, Sirius doesn't answer either of them. All James can see is his best friend's back, his vision splitting him in two. Sirius has always been good at blocking out the things he doesn't want to hear. Which might be the most unkind thing James has ever thought about him.

"James please sit down," Remus tries to guide him towards the nearest chair but he's not going. They found him on the floor, and he'd been happy to stay there. But now. Now he has a mission.

"I want to call him, get me my phone!"

"Christ James," Remus hisses under his breath, pleading. He wants James to stop. But the whiskey in his blood has other plans. "What's going on with you tonight? I mean, should we be--should we be worried? Were you trying to hurt yourself or--"

"Oh fuck off!"

He sees the surprise on Remus's face, thinks about apologizing, but his thoughts are watery and hard to hold.

"I want to call him," he repeats instead. It's the one thing keeping him standing.

"Yeah we heard you," Sirius says finally, his voice is thin, cold. It's enough to get James's attention, even in his current state. "But you can't call him."

Something pointy and sharp pricksJames's chest but he shakes his head, ignoring it. "I know the number by heart," his drunken mind supplies helpfully.

"James," his name sounds so sad in Remus's voice.

"I'm sure you do," he thinks Sirius laughs. It's not a pleasant noise.

"Just give--give me my phone? He'll pick up. He always picks up when it's me. I want to call him. Let me c-call. I want--"

"You. Can't."

Sirius finally turns back around, he is so still and so stiff and James is so wobbly. He stumbles even though he's standing still, Remus fumbling to keep him upright.

"He'll pick up Sirius, he will. If it's me--"

"No."

"--he always--always--I need him. I need to tell him. I need to ta-talk. Please? Please I need--"

"You know why you can't call him."

"Sirius," Remus says warningly, but James doesn't think either of them are paying him any attention.

"I--don't have my phone." That makes Sirius frown harder but James doesn't care right now. "Just give me a phone. Any phone. I know his number. I--"

"You know why you can't call," Sirius repeats.

The pricking in his chest is getting worse. A stab. A slice. A tear. The sensation burns right through the alcohol. It demands to be felt. Demands to be heard.

"No," James repeats. "No I--no. No. no."

"He's--"

"Sirius!"

"--dead. He died."

"No!" James's voice is a terror. "I--no. I just need to call. Just let me have--the--cause I--and he'll pick up--he always--for me," he can't get them out, the words, the thoughts, his breath. He's choking on his own memories. His own grief. Shaking so bad he's surprised Remus is able to keep a hold of him.

"Regulus is dead. You can't call him. He won't pick up," Sirius sounds cold and distant. But then, he's always been like that about Regulus. James is on the ground again. The world in front of him blurry as Remus wraps his arms around him.

"You're a sloppy drunk James," is the last thing Sirius says before James hears the door closing.

The pain is deep and all consuming. It's been months. It's been years. It never stops. It never gets better. The minute the world gets still or quiet the grief is there. He feels like he spends every second of his life trying to outrun it. He's so tired. So fucking tired.

"I need to t-talk to him," he sobs, as Remus holds him tighter. "I can't never talk to him again. I can't. I have so much to say. I have so much--what am I supposed to do with this? What am I supposed to do with all this? I need to call him. Please. Please. I need him. I can't sleep. I can't eat. They're taking up all the space in me Remus. All these fucking--these fucking words. I need to call him. I need to. I need to. I can't bear this. I don't understand how I'm supposed to bear this?"

Remus kisses the top of his head. "Just breathe okay?" James doesn't think he's imagining the tremor in Remus's voice. "I just need you to breathe okay?"

But he can't.

He hasn't.

Not in months.

Not in years.

I'd die for you, he'd told Regulus once. And oh god did he mean it.

[squash1]

does this make ANY sense????

[triona-tribblescore]

What can you say~ Hes got class >;)

[lunathejediknight]

Jinx

In a very mad, sqeaky voice: "where is isha?"

Seriously tho wtf is this XD

[uhhlifeig]

First Murder - Jan. 13th - word count: 362 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The battle was utter chaos.

Jets of colored light shot out from the darkness, and screams rang through the night. Remus looked around for his boyfriend, seeing him dueling two Death Eaters at once.

With a sinking sense of horror, he noticed a third Death Eater sneaking up on Sirius’s unguarded back. Without a second thought, Remus shot the first spell that came to mind.

“Expulso!” he yelled. The spell hit the Death Eater in the chest, throwing them backwards into a pile of rubble. Remus heard a sickening crack.

He didn’t have the time to dwell on that, though. Sirius was still in danger; another Death Eater had jumped into the fray and started dueling him. Remus could tell that he was starting to get tired.

Just then, a stray spell whizzed by Sirius. It missed by a centimeter.

It was a bright, neon green.

Remus saw red.

He ran to where Sirius was, dodging spells and tossing aside people who got in his way. If they were Order members, then he could apologize later.

He cast a quick Protego around them both once he was close enough, and helped take out the remaining Death Eaters.

Grabbing his arm, he Apparated both of them the fuck out of there.

“Pads,” Remus panted, catching his breath in their flat. “Are you okay?”

“Remus,” Sirius frowned. “Why did you do that? I had it handled, and Dumbledore’s going to kill us for leaving early, and-”

“Sirius,” Remus sighed. “You almost just fucking died. The Avada missed you by a centimeter, Pads. And that wasn’t even the only time you almost died in the span of ten minutes!” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

Sirius’s brows creased. “What do you mean, Moons?”

“I mean that I probably killed someone who was sneaking up on you!” Remus felt like banging his head on a wall repeatedly.

Then the reality of what he really did hit him. He ran a hand over his face, covertly wiping off any tears that had gathered. 

He would not cry over someone who could have killed his star. He wouldn’t.

Did that make him a monster?

[hatsunemikuismyspiritanimal]

You. Me. Gas station. What are we getting for dinner? Sushi of course. Uh oh! There was a roofie in our gas station sushi. We black out and wake up in a sewer surrounded by fish. Horny fish. You know what that means. Fish orgy. The stench draws in a bear. What do we do? We're gonna fight it. Bear fight. Bare handed. Bare, naked? Oh, yes please. We befriend the bear after we beat it in a brawl and ride it into a Chuck E. Cheese. Dance Dance Revolution. Revolution? Overthrow the government? Uh, I think so. Next thing you know, I'm reincarnated as Jesus Christ. Then I turn into a jet, fly into the sun, black out again, wake up, do a bump, white out, which I didn't even know you could do. Then I smoked a joint, greened out. Then I turn into the sun. Uh oh! Looks like the meth is kicking in. HSHRJFJSKJRHQANEHF

When the meth kicks in- make sure to burn off the energy quickly so the cops aren't suspicious of you. For example, try finding a vehicle and try to pick it up, but make sure that you have an excuse so that people don't ask questions as to why you are bench pressing a fucking tractor.

[zorosdimples]

sleeping in on sunday and getting up late to eat a homemade meal and lounge around your apartment. your hair is messy and his eyes are bleary but that only makes you fall in love with each other more. sloppy kisses give way to lazy grinding and when you finally sink all the way down on him, you shudder in pleasure. he doesn’t try to hold back his moans as he squeezes your soft breasts and raptly watches you bounce at your own pace. you both climax quicker than you usually do, not that either of you care. you exchange sweet kisses, unhurriedly clean up, and get back to your quiet sunday.

[plotwhatplot]

This popped into my head lmao

Party poison: *drawing fun ghoul* hey stay still I'm trying to draw u!

Fun ghoul: oh srry love *stays still*

Jet star: that's kinda gay ngl

Party poison: ur gayer🙄

Fun ghoul: ur literally the one who wears women's lingerie under ur clothes half the time tf u mean the literal straight man is gayer 😭🙏

Kobra kid: WHAT😭😭😭

Party poison: *leaning over to him* shh baby we don't talk abt that..

jet star: shiver me fucking timbers bro 😭🙏

Ps: I was gonna post this shorty after my one "steal his look" party poison meme thing I posted but I forgot to switch the thingy and I left it in my drafts 💀😭

[cuntphoric]

#needgojosmilkdippedinmycookies

[your-dearest-simi]

[princessberry]

"Waycest Saved My Life"

[lunarcanum]

Everywhere I go... I see his face...

[doc-davey]

I guess I’ll start off with silly doodles!! Yayayayy

Ignore bald Saul at the bottom. David took his luscious curls that’s what happened.

More silly ✨ ‘tis for an animation idea

I’ll post better art later lol but I’ll just show these for now

Bye bye ~

Don’t let the King Saul bite

[nalilvsjaybird]

i'm just a girl who wants to ride Arkham knight thigh 💕