#and one with his friend i think the name is gerard way??

[milligramspoison]

Heard y’all were looking for some guy named Ray Toro I think I may gotchu covered

[blue-jisungs]

hi omg I loved all ur “u sleep with plushies” for each svt unit, may I req a hhu ver ??? all of the other units were so cute😭💗

you still sleep with plushies ♡

author's note. thank you hehe!!! it was so fun to do, sorry it took so long tho:(

vcu ver && perf ver

┆彡 SEUNGCHEOL [ 승철 ]

he never considered it a problem?

like he’s been at your place a couple of times and noticed the plushies, thinking it’s just really cute :(

i mean come on, some of his members heave weirder habits (like sleeping with their eyes open…)

so when you asked him if that bothers him, seungcheol was offended that you even thought!!! about it!!!

however . . .

when he does sleep at your place, you two all cuddled up and comfy

and then… he wakes up only to see your back

okay, it happens… maybe you were uncomfortable

BUT THEN HE SEES YOU’RE CLUTCHING A TEDDY TO YOUR CHEST!!! INSTEAD OF HIM!!

he’s so sulky, good luck with that …..

you explain that it’s just your comfort plushie and that you cuddled it out of habit :(

so cheol insists that he can be way better than it and begs you to let him stay one more night to prove his point ☝️

and he kinda does, he becomes your new giant, warm and loving teddy bear <3

┆彡 WONWOO [ 원우 ]

wonwoo noticed before you could tell him

well, you really thought you were slick when you didn’t bother hiding them because you hoped he’d think they’re there for the aesthetics

or when you two went shopping and your eyes widened upon seeing a cute plushie:(

yeah, he knows

but he thinks it’s really cute, especially if you have that one specific plushie ever since you could remember and you always sleep with it

so not to make a fool out of yourself in front of his friends, you don’t take it with you when you go on a trip with them

after whole day of fun, it’s time to sleep in the cabin

and wonwoo notices that you’re constantly squirming around, unable to fall sleep

and you confess that it’s because you didn’t bring your plushie:(

so he offers to be the plushie for the night, reassuring you that he doesn’t mind and you can cuddle him as much you wanna

and that may have been a risky decision because ever since…… well, he is one of your plushies now ^__^

┆彡 MINGYU [ 민규 ]

you decided to invite your boyfriend over and share a secret with him

mentally, you got ready to get teased about it

but you when mingyu entered your bedroom he didn’t even notice the plushies 🧍‍♀️

he was just happy that u let him in your personal space and looked around your room with hearts in his eyes, like a kid in a candy store

"so you don’t mind the plushies?" you mumbled, plopping down on your bed and holding one for emotional support

"the pl– oh? ah, baby…" he groaned and swore his knees got weak; you’re just too cute for his own good

he doesn’t mind, at all - which you’re kinda surprised but happy

he does get pouty if you cuddle a plushie to sleep instead of him >:T

sometimes will spray his cologne on your (or his) favorite one so you could feel like he’s here when he’s out having schedules ☹️

might steal a one or two to his apartment, esp puppy ones 💔

┆彡 VERNON [ 버논 ]

i mean we all know nonnie, he’s really chill about everything (welp, except bugs but—)

so when you were facetiming him once and you noticed your plushies are on camera, you started panicking

"yo, what is it? did something happen?" he asked, noticing something’s wrong

"yeah… no… well…" you stuttered, not sure how to answer "did you see that?"

"what? that big spider behind you?" he stuttered and soon after laughed upon seeing your scared face "sorry, it was a bad joke… hey, don’t get sulky…"

"i meant my plushies…" you mumbled and pulled one closer

"oh them? yeah, and? you always have them. say hi to gerard by the way" vernon nodded

what.

there’s no gerard in your collection but later on you realised he meant (plushie name)

like really,, he doesn’t care in a way that – he doesn’t mind you having them

he does care about them, though :(

will put a blanket on them if he thinks they’ll get cold or carefully reads all the corners of the internet before putting them into a washing machine:(

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee

[dead3ve]

Steven Meeks x fem!reader

Summary: Steven Meeks and some other Welton academics are present at a competition they have been winning for 5 years. Welton lost the History prize to another private school, housing young women, breaking Welton's winning streak. One of the women makes Meeks lose all concentration, causing Welton also lose the Mathematics award as well.

Warnings: reader uses they/them pronouns, referred to as a female, girl, women. Meeks is pining. No use of y/n.

The hall was loud. Meeks was sweating. The noise wasn't helping him solve difficult equations. With time running out he was growing nervous. Restless. He was the math genius at Welton, and he was struggling to even think. Gerard Pitts and Richard Cameron were doing more than he was.

The hall, where the competition was taking place, was asked to quieten down. A man who was round and grey-haired was talking into a microphone. He announced "The Excellence in Historical Writing award goes to the Ladies' College. We ask for two student representatives to approach the front to receive their award."

The hall erupted into applause. The Ladies' College table began to holler and cheer for their friends who stood. One of the two who stood wore the dull, navy-blue uniform of a lengthy skirt and boxy button up shirt with a heavy blazer and made Meeks turn as red as his hair. Their joy and confidence that radiated off of them made Steven feel the same way. Once they were at the stage holding the award and smiling for a photo, Meeks smiled too. The hall was quiet at that point. Quiet enough for Meeks to hear a faraway "Thank you." from the awarded girl and snickering from Pitts who was sat next to him.

Meeks stomped on his foot under the table.

Cameron was sick of his teammates being distracted by things as simple as girls. "If you're so interested in her, go and say something. You're not doing anything here, Meeks." Cameron was frustrated, talking through his gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Meeks. I'll go with you. They're at the food table with their friend." Pitts offered, attempting to sooth Cameron's insult.

Steven weighed the options out in his head. He could nail the exam, which he wasn't sure he could do because of the distracting beauty of the History girl. Or he could attempt to meet the girl, and maybe, with some charm win her over. Both, to Steven Meeks were very poor options at the time, but he decided the latter had slightly better odds with Pitts by his side.

Pitts and Meeks stood up from their table and approached the food tables where the girls prepared slices of cakes and tea for their table. Pitts went to make a cup of tea, putting him in place for a conversation.

"How is your team looking for math?" Pitts asks the girls' friend as he stirs sugar into his tea.

The girl Meeks failed to acknowledge began to talk animatedly to Pitts about the poor questions chosen for the examination. Pitts became too engaged in conversation to help Meeks, leaving the red head to stand awkwardly in front of the girl who drew his interest initially. Meeks couldn't bring himself to say anything. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe her presence was so important and radiant that it shouldn't be ignored with talk.

"You're here for math?" A quiet question left the girl's mouth. They also held a cup of tea, and they took a sip after asking the question.

"Yeah, yes." Meeks fumbled his answer. Wringing his hands tightly as he spoke. "Did you do the History essay?"

They smiled at that. They blushed and looked at the wooden floors beneath them. "Yes, I did." They looked back up at Meeks with excited eyes, "Sad I took the Welton crown?"

Meeks smiled at that. They were playful. Steven let out a small laugh of relief. "No not at all. Suits you more than us." Meeks looked at the girl, cautious of their reaction, hoping he hadn't put his foot into his mouth like he so often did.

They smiled, blushed then took a step closer to Meeks. "What's your name? I'd also like to know if you're bribing the math win from us, considering you are charming me." They spoke, knowing their words, confidently.

Meeks blushed, turning red again. He began to laugh at their statement. "It's Steven Meeks and this isn't a bribe. My friends saw me looking at you and made me leave the table because I was slowing them down. You were a pretty distraction." Meeks couldn't believe what he was saying. He was not one to do this.

Suddenly, the girl pushed her arm towards Meeks, with a pen extended in their other hand. "Can I have your phone number, Steven? The school one or your family's one. Do you board at Welton?" All of these fretful questions were asked as Meeks quickly wrote the school's phone number down onto their skin in a hurry to calm them. He gently let go of their arm and held the pen back at them.

"I board at Welton, but we leave the campus on weekends. Maybe you'd want to join me one weekend?" Meeks was asking a girl out on a date. He was red in the face and still sweating. It was no longer loud in the hall though because all Meeks could hear was their acceptance to the proposed date.

Cameron suddenly turned Meeks with a firm hand gripping his shoulder. "What are you doing Meeks? We just lost the Math prize. Dr Hager is going to kill us." Cameron was angry at Pitts but more so Steven. He began to drag Meeks away from the two girls by the collar of his blazer. Cameron couldn't handle more homework. Meeks could, if he got to see a pretty girl because of it.

[cheezritsu]

The story of how you and Reo Mikage became friends isn’t overly exciting, but it’s a necessary tangent. A precursor, really.

Reo is a collector of impossible things. Call it a byproduct of being rich. His favorite things of all are the things he can’t have. He plays soccer as a dream; a sport he has no business being in as it brings no value to his future fortune. His best friend is a reclusive giant who seems to barely tolerate him. Which, eh. Nagi is his treasure—he’s the person that never bullshits him, the person who says what he’s thinking no matter what. Nagi feels like a compass the same way you do: if Nagi truly hates it, it’s probably worth letting go.

You and Nagi are alike in so many ways: you’re something he took the time to dig in the dirt for, only to polish it and realize it’s precious. A friend he shouldn’t have because your social status deems it so. A treasure born from nothing but whim. Something to chase. Something he can love.

Reo Mikage loves you both, which is why when Reo meets Nagi for the first time, he makes you go to karaoke together.

He’s an actual idiot for making the quietest people he knows go to karaoke, but he lets you bring your friends to be comfortable and invites his entire soccer team for Nagi. “For” being the operative word here. None of this is for either of you. It’s all for Reo.

You don’t mind. Not really. You love Reo too. Reo escapes to you and Aiura’s dorm when he doesn’t wanna go home. Which, with the ongoing soccer drama, has been more frequent. You’re in the same class again, this time sitting next to each other. Reo really is a prince that way, protecting you from gossip and bullies, brandishing his smile the way one uses a rapier. Efficiently and lethally. Aiura also sits next to you, but it’s been the Reo show since school started.

Aiura twirls the boba straw in her drink as you stare absently at Reo. Your karaoke room is—shocker—the biggest one they have. It’s decked out in all signature silly decorations. Reo is literally standing atop the huge long table with the rest of his team, the boys loudly singing Fighting Dreamers. They’re moshing and having fun, save for the white haired boy being jostled under Reo’s hooked arm.

“Who’s Snow White?” Aiura jokes, but it’s a good nickname for him. He’s sleepy looking, with low lidded dark eyes and a neutral expression one might only get when they hit the pillow. He blinks slowly and slumps out of Reo’s grip, falling back on the bench and staying there.

“You ever met him before?”

“Nope.”

Hina and Aiura shake their drinks in the same circular motion. The syncronity feels condescending. “Reo seems chummy with him. You for real don’t know him?”

There it is. You roll your eyes. “I don’t know everyone he knows. You know how it is,” you shift your gaze back to the karaoke stage, seeing Reo bleat out the first verse of MCR’s Helena. A personal favorite of his for no reason. His soccer team is cheering relentlessly, like he’s Gerard Way reincarnated.

Reo’s lifestyle is a revolving door of people. You needn’t learn names because in several weeks time, like a micro trend, they’ll be gone.

Aiura hums. Behind her lime green manicured hand she whispers something to Hina, who whispers back.

“Streets is sayin’ that’s Nagi Seishiro.”

The name isn’t familiar. You two just shrug.

“So, another boy?”

“Another boy,” you sigh. Reo didn’t have many girl friends that weren’t girlfriends. You usually liked them, until the feeling was unrequited. They hated your presence and Reo, who was sharper than most gave him credit for, broke up with them when he found out.

“You mean more to me than they do.”

You never let the charming words coil around your heart. Reo was a smooth talker, but at his core he’s just another rich boy. And you haven’t any interest in that.

“I fucking better,” is your reply, with a hardy punch.

These days Reo usually has the company of a soccer team member, some underclass man who thinks the real resume grabber is knowing Reo Mikage. Not a bad thought, but it still makes you frown.

Seishiro Nagi may be another one of those boys. He drinks from his soda cup with a bendy straw, barely moving his neck forward to meet it. The pitch of the room skyrockets as another anime opening scrolls across the screen, and Nagi’s face creases in discomfort. With his eyes pinched closed and a scrunched nose, he looks just like a disgruntled cat. You try to swallow your involuntary giggle, but Aiura and Hina catch it.

Hina stretches her neck. “What’re you giggling about?”

“Nothing,” you garble around a mouth full of boba.

“Don’t try to distract me by grossing me out.”

Aiura narrows her eyes. If a thousand yard stare could be pointed, that’s what she does. “It’s the boy.”

“Reo?” Hina asks, and you snort.

“Since when is Reo “the boy”?”

Hina rolls her eyes. “Since you had a public meet cute in the quad?”

Phlegm probably escapes you from how hard you scoff. “We had a Mexican standoff??”

“Y’all argued at best,” Aiura defends.

“You weren’t evened there!” Aiura bats away your accusatory finger with a quick roll of her eyes. “The point still stands. Reo was never “the boy.” “

“The boy is Nagi Seishiro,” Aiura nods in the direction. Nagi’s fluffy white hair reflects all the lights beautifully, like a neon halo.

“Didn’t Reo throw this party for yall to meet?”

That premise has fully eluded you. “Damn, you’re right.”

“Well he sucks as a host. You should introduce yourself.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he’s leaving.”

The room is a chaotic wonderland of yelling, singing and courting. A few of the players on the team try to flirt with your friends, mostly to no avail. Reo, being the common denominator in some way, fractions his attention to everyone except the guests of honor, who have slipped out under his nose.

It wasn’t your intention to follow Nagi. You really were not going to introduce yourself. You just needed air.

You sit down on the bench just outside the room. The pulsing beat of the next song reverbs out into the empty hallway. It’s kind of soothing to be on the outside again; you’re back in the peripheral, a comfortable spot. Flipping through your phone, you found the otome game currently ruining your wallet; an American based game called The Arcana. You had daily spins to replenish, hopefully a way to get more keys for your story.

You criss cross your legs, settling in. You play the slots first, getting a few coins but no keys. The second game was always a gamble; you had four lives total, meaning four keys to potentially win. You’re good mini games. They’re fun to hone in on and lose yourself in the task. The absolutely gorgeous characters aren’t bad to look at either. You hunch forward to giggle at the little romance scenarios that play out, shutting out the world around you. Shutting out Nagi Seishiro, who stands before you.

Nagi stares at the barely visible sliver of your screen. He thought maybe you were on Instagram or Snapchat, but as it turns out you’re playing something. Something he doesn’t know.

He tilts his head trying to get a better look. Your curly hair blocks his vision of the phone. Nagi has never seen hair like yours in person. It really does look like springs; small, shiny little spirals radiating out from the top of your head. Is it soft? How could it be?

Nagi is so lost in the uzumaki like spirals of your hair that he brings the back of his hand to the top your head and skims his knuckles over it and oh-

It’s fairy soft and defying gravity. The little coil bounces, and Nagi’s about to wrap it around his finger when he looks down.

“Wh-“ your startled gasp reminds him of why he’s here. You’re looking up, and past your chin is your unlocked phone. He’s never seen those characters before; they’re beautifully drawn, and decidedly not Japanese.

“Hey, what game is that?” The same finger that was inches from your head points into your lap. Your brows scrunch.

“What?”

“The game? On your phone?” Nagi gets tired of standing and sits beside you. His thigh brushes against your bare knee and the friction feels like lava. “Is it fun? The graphics are pretty.”

Nagi finally looks at your face. He decides that if you were drawn in that art style it would suit you. Unreal, gravity defying hair, pretty eyes framed with crazy long lashes, and lovely lips with an almost two-toned saturation that draws attention, even though you’re fighting for your next words.

“It’s called The Arcana,” you say, but it’s drawn out like you’re going to say more. Nagi waits, and then hears “Did you just touch my hair?”

“Oh?” Nagi’s lips purse, like a pout but more sheepish. He didn’t think you’d noticed. Well, that was a lie, but he didn’t think you’d care. Don’t girls think stuff like that is cute?

“I’m sure some girls do, but this ain’t a petting zoo.” Shit, he said that out loud. And you’re upset. Fuck. He’s like 100% sure that you’re Reo’s friend. His best friend, the one he’s always talking about. The one he borrows books from that have those colored tabs. The one he’s always buying trinkets for. Like the little phone strap you’ve got with—who is that, is it Itadori Yuji?

“Hey!” There you go again, making Nagi feel bad for not listening. The pout reappears on his face, before he slumps back.

This feels weird. Nagi’s having…emotions now and it sucks. It’s bothersome. But, he doesn’t feel inconvenienced by you, he feels inconvenienced by himself. He’s making himself feel stupid and that’s far worse than sitting next to you.

Nagi’s head hits the wall. “M’sorry,” he slurs lazily, turning his head to properly meet your eyes. “I didn’t mean that. Your hair’s pretty, that’s all.”

Oh. The words are blunt force trauma, the head of a baseball bat butted into your sternum. The perpetual drowsiness in his voice makes it feel more like the truth; someone that tired wouldn’t have it in them to lie, right?

You swallow down the damage done to your heart. “Still doesn’t mean you can touch it without permission.”

“Hmm.” Is all he says, staring vacantly for a second. And then “well, can I?”

You’re either dumb or whipped for saying yes. One is far worse than the other. But Nagi Seishiro is gentle when he plucks out a particular curl and runs it between his fingers. Deftly, sweetly, his finger hooks onto the end of the curl and it twirls around the digit. His hands are much bigger than you initially thought. You’re going cross eyed looking at them.

“That’s cool,” Nagi says, and a small smile graces his features. His eyes are actually grey up close. Smokey, endless, and all at once those sleepy, feline like crescents. “Thanks.”

No one’s ever thanked you for touching your hair. No one’s ever been that reverent about it either. Nagi pulls his hand away like he’s finally been sated, drawing his knees up to mimick your criss crossed legs.

“M’ Nagi, by the way.” His belated introduction is funnier in hindsight. It’s very Nagi; satisfy the curiosity first, then do the regular stuff. “Reo dragged me here.”

“Me too. I’m y/n.”

“Are you going to be around more?”

Nagi’s pulling out his phone. You aren’t sure how to answer his question. You’re pretty much always around, whatever Nagi meant by that. Unless he meant more around him.

There’s a spiking heat under your cheeks, something you don’t wanna bring attention to. He seems to have forgotten your existence, looking down at the loading screen off his App Store. But he doesn’t type anything for a minute. He’s waiting.

Nagi shrugs. “You’re less of a hassle than he is.” His thumb presses up to the search icon. “How do you spell Arcana?”

[kitchenisking]

Day 6

No Refunds or Exchanges by badwolfbadwolf  - (Rating: Mature, Words: 18,916, sterek)

Stiles is the newest deputy in the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department, and has maybe just been a little in love with Derek Hale since Stiles had made a fool of himself in front of him at the SD summer picnic a few years ago. Being married to him—only for the sake of not getting deported—is going to suck in new and unusual ways.

Survival of the Species by Lissadiane  - (Rating: Explicit , Words: 19,370, sterek)

“I think I’m dying.” Nothing makes sense – and now Derek has left him.

“No, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton says grimly, rooting around in his special cupboard of herbs and remedies. “I’m afraid not. You’re merely suffering from a biological imperative to bear your alpha’s children and strengthen the pack.”

Stiles considers that for a moment, as best he can with his mind a hazy mess, and then he says quietly, “I think that might be worse.”

“So, so much worse,” Scott agrees. * In which Derek's pack is apparently stable enough to begin planning for the future, and somehow, the universe has decided Stiles is the perfect candidate to bear his alpha's children.

Imagine Me And You by callunavulgari, hiza-chan (callunavulgari) - (Rating: T, Words: 16,080, sterek)

“My name,” the kid tells Derek, sounding amused. “It’s Stiles. I figure if I’m going to wrestle a complete stranger for a pumpkin the least I can do is offer my name afterwards.”

“Stiles,” Derek tries, testing the way the name sits on his tongue. “I’m Derek.”

“Derek,” Stiles breathes, like he’s testing the weight of the name too. He grins, bright and blinding, which Derek guesses means that he likes the sound of it. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but since we almost got to second base a minute ago, I’d say we’re past that point.”

Bitten Saved Pack by TheRealDanniX - (Rating: T, Words: 7,488, sterek)

Gerard didn't just rough Stiles up. He was aiming to kill. Derek can't take that. Scott doesn't like how Derek fixes it.

*nobody dies

All Coming Back, Like It Was Never Gone by LadyDrace  - (Rating: T, Words: 2,756, sterek)

Stiles and Derek spend a summer looking for Boyd and Erica. During that summer they're... something. Something that never becomes much of anything.

But then, years later, it all comes back.

Point me where my life begins by Gotta_seduce_the_Rainbow - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 39,430, sterek)

When Derek wakes up without his memory, he is left with nothing but a note he wrote himself. He no longer remembers anything personal, not himself, not anyone else.

The note is pointing him towards the town Beacon Hills and once he is there, he is greeted by strangers telling him “Dude, I didn’t know you’re back in town”, which is confusing. Apparently, he grew up in Beacon Hills, but left a few years ago without telling anyone about it.

There is this one stranger, who calls him dude and has the most amazing scent. Derek might just want to start his new life here. With this person.

Stupid Over You by Wolfspurr - (Rating: T, Words: 10,461, sterek)

It's a Friday night, and instead of enjoying any of the numerous things he'd rather be doing, Stiles has been roped into dinner with his dad at the Hale's. On the plus side, Derek Hale will be there. On the minus side, Derek Hale will be there, and Stiles already has a hard enough time not making an ass of himself in front of the hottest guy in school. There's no way this can end well.

the shape of my heart by Winchesterek - (Rating: Mature, Words: 4,807, sterek)

Stiles never thought he'd meet someone like Derek. Someone that was in a similar situation as he was - raising kids that weren't biologically his. It was even wilder because Derek was his god daughters first grade teacher and she was best friends with Derek's niece and nephew.

And Derek was hot. So hot that Stiles couldn't help ogling him every time they spent any amount of time around each other, including play dates and lunch in the school cafeteria with their kids. So Derek asking him out for Valentine's Day? That was just icing on the cake. Plus, Stiles was already head over heels for him.

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous - (Rating: T, Words: 7,654, sterek)

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

A Divine Move by alikatastic - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 2,138, sterek)

After Derek died, Peter was the one to let Stiles know. Stiles rushed to Beacon Hills to attend Derek's funeral and take care of Eli. When Peter takes Stiles to the Nemeton to show Stiles what happened, they make a discovery. Derek was trapped in the nemeton. All they had to do was pull him out.

[deadsetromance]

IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS OF THE MORNING

(not my gif!)

gerard way x gn!reader

summary: he's your roommate...but maybe he's more than that.

warnings: unedited writing, fluff, no use of [y/n]

note: so sorry i haven't posted in forever! i have a few requests and a few more half-complete drafts, so hopefully those should be up soon &lt;3

you supposed there were worse roommates out there. actually, thinking about it, you realized how lucky you were.

you got along really well with your roommate, gerard. he’d been sharing an apartment for nearly two years now, and you were sure you knew him better than you knew yourself.

you know he forgets to take the coffee pods out of the keurig, and sometimes he leaves the heater running for too long.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen him sleep. sometimes you wonder if he’s a vampire or something, what with the scribbling coming from his room at all hours of the night.

to be fair… you’re hardly any better. you sleep little more than he does, when you do fall asleep it’s usually on the couch, and you leave the television on all the time.

you’re incredibly lucky, you realize. lucky that he’s as sweet as he is, bringing you coffee in the mornings, and stopping by your job on his commute. he’s even slipped a few drawings your way. some are drawings of you, others are silly little doodles he gives you when you’re having a bad day. sometimes, he’ll show you characters for the comics he’s working on, asking for your input.

you realize that you’re lucky that he’s so helpful, that he’s not a creep, that you both get along so well. you’re lucky that you’ve found a friend who will sit and watch television reruns with you when neither of you can fall asleep.

that’s why you slip a record under his door one night. you don’t know if he even likes sinatra, but you give it to him anyway. there’s no special occasion really, you just thought of him when you found in the wee small hours in the record store you visited. you don’t sign your name on the post it you stuck to it. all you write is “from one insomniac to another”. you feel embarrassed for some reason you can’t place, and something slithers in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have given it to him…maybe he doesn’t like sinatra. it’s too late now though, it’s already done.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

it’s late one night…or early, depending on how you look at it. you’re tired, whatever movie you were watching forgotten and on mute. you can hear gerard milling around in the kitchen, you can smell the coffee he’s brewing. you’re tired, but you can’t fall asleep.

“thanks for the record” gerard called from the kitchen. “i really liked it”

you smile, one of those hazy tired smiles, the kind you do when you’re between being awake and asleep. “i didn’t know if you liked sinatra, i hope it’s ok”

you miss the way he grins at you, too busy yawning.

“it’s great i actually…” he walked off in the middle of his sentence, a habit you’d noticed he had, only to come back with the disk in his hands. “do you mind?”

it didn’t matter if you said no, he already turned to put it on, smiling back at you as he dropped the needle to the record.

“what are we watching?” he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. close enough to be touching you, but still far enough to give you space. it’s like a paradox, you think, but then you tell yourself to shut up. you’re too tired to know what you’re talking about.

“i dunno, i stopped paying attention.” your eyes flit to the movie playing on the television, watching the car chase for a moment before turning your attention back to him. “you’re going to keep yourself up all night drinking coffee this late.” you might have frowned at him if you weren’t too busy beaming.

he knew you were teasing, you could tell by the glint in his eye. “i just need a few finishing touches on my project and then i’m done.”

you didn’t say anything more for a while, taking a moment to take everything in. the record playing softly in the background as you curled closer to gerard. his head resting on yours as you listened to his breathing, memorizing the pace of his heart.

it’s quiet…intimate, and you’re tired. tired and happy.

“you tired?” he questions softly.

“a little,” you don’t know why you’re whispering.

“do you work tomorrow?”

“yeah, i open,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. you think you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.

it’s quiet again, though this time it’s too quiet. you’re left with thoughts of gerard running through your head, and you wish that one of you would say something. you should be ashamed, you scold yourself, thinking of him the way you do when he’s sitting right next to you.

“what are you thinking about?” he prods gently. he’s soft with you, the way he always is, careful not to overstep with his questions.

“nothing really,” you lie, because you’d rather not risk what comfort you have now. “what are you thinking about?”

it seems like he didn’t expect the question to be turned back on him. he hesitates, and the silence is thick…too thick. his face is illuminated by the light from the tv, and he looks nervous. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite as terrified as he does now. the lighting shifts, and he’s blanketed in darkness again, but you notice something change in his eyes.

“i think i love you” he whispers against your ear.

you feel like you can’t breathe. you think you heard him wrong. you’re worried this is all a dream, a good dream, the kind that would leave you reeling when you wake up.

you want to hear him say it again.

you lean your head back against his shoulder, and he breathes out with a shudder. you watch the explosions on tv as your hand finds his. “i love you too.”

that’s it then, everything is out in the open. maybe you’re tired, but you sigh gently as he cups your face in his hands. thinking back, you can’t exactly pinpoint when your feelings for him changed, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. he loves you and you love him. it’s surprisingly simple.

“can i…?” he doesn’t need to finish his question as you lean in closer to him. his breath is warm, and he smells like coffee and sleepless nights, and you’re waiting for him. your eyes are closed as you breathe him in, and they stay that way as he kisses you softly.

he’s…soft, softer than you imagine, and you can’t help but smile.

in the wee small hours of the morning, he is yours, and you are his.

[otherone12]

Oh, Baby... You're Mine

Vampire!Gerard Way × Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! I’m weirdo and vampires are fucking hot, so I has to write a something like this (no judgement, pleaseeee). Hope u enjoy it :)

Summary: The boy in your class is shy and weird, but you've always been nice to him, making him create an obsession. The problem is he's a little weirder than you thought… I mean, he literally drinks blood, and wants YOU and YOUR blood, and he won't take "no" for an answer.

- Word Count: 2.090

- Warnings: She/her pronouns. Blood things, pet names? Kidnap, AFAB SMUT!

> DEAD DOVE!!!! < IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS KIND OF CONTENT, DON'T READ!!!! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: Sorry for the smut, i'm not used to write this, i'm still learning already. (:

- Ps3: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

Gerard has been my classmate since the beginning of the year. I've never talked properly with him, but everyday I say “hi” to him with a smile. 

His black hair fell perfectly on his unhealthy pale face when he bent over the table to draw. Maybe the way he didn’t talk to anyone, or the way he kept his attention on his drawings during the class, I don’t know, but he's really cute. 

Sometimes my pastime is to find him looking at me, when he notices I stared back, he stops staring and gets a bit blushed. 

This has been happening for some months, and I got a bit tired of this, so I walked towards him at the end of the class, knowing he has free time. I crossed the empty classroom, and stood in front of him. Gerard looked up at me and swallowed hard, looking a bit nervous.

- Hi! - I started with a kind smile - Am I bothering you?

- H-hey… N-no you’re not… - He tucked his hair behind his ear, taking his eyes from his draw. His voice was high-pitched and pleasant to hear. - I wanted to talk to you, but I was afraid of being creepy. 

We talked, and I noticed that we had a lot in common, passion for art; for good music and old movies; so we kept the conversation going as long as we could. He didn't smile even one time, but I thought he liked talking to me as much as I liked talking to him.

In the next few days, Gerard and I had small conversations during the free periods, but nothing more than that. I started to think about him as a friend, ‘cause somehow he made me feel great.

Wasn’t like I thought of him as some kind of partner or something, but it is nice to know that if I need someone to talk to, I can go and speak to him. I haven’t many friends, none actually, I just didn’t feel comfortable with anyone, but he was different, someway.

After class, on an ordinary day, I was walking alone with my headphones on, and the cold wind of fall in my face. Going home, I felt something weird on my way. I didn’t know what was wrong, but the sensation of being followed haunted me for some streets. 

Faster than I could understand the whole situation, I felt a strong hit in my head, I fell on the floor, beating my head on the asphalt. The pain didn't last longer than a few seconds, cause i had already fainted.

Opening my eyes slowly and with difficulty, I couldn't see an inch in front of me because of the dim light. When I tried to rub my eyes with my hands, I realized that they were tied apart. I began to panic, noticing that I was tied to a bed, with my hands on different sides of the headboard and my legs spread with my ankles tied to the other end of the bed.

My first instinct was to scream, and I did. I got no response, but a door was opened, making the room a little brighter because of the light coming from it.

Before the door was closed, in the few seconds that the room wasn't pitch black, I saw that the room had a gothic aesthetic, with old paintings, black veils covering the windows, candles and chandeliers filling the room, and the old structure itself attracting attention.

I heard the sound of footsteps approaching, unable to make out anything. Soon I felt cold hands tracing my face and going down to my neck. I froze, the soft skin of those hands was almost soothing, but I couldn't let it take away my focus. I screamed again, but my mouth was covered pressing hard on my dry lips.

- You don't need to scream, darling. - A familiar voice reached my ear, making me even more nervous - I won't hurt you, hun. At least, not now.

 Slowly, he took his hand away from my mouth and I didn't scream, for fear that the situation might become worse than it already was.

- G-gerard?! 

I said, stuttering and with my voice muddled by fear.

- Aw how cute, you recognize my voice. - His tone didn't sound friendly, but threatening. As he spoke, he caressed my cheek. - There's no need to be afraid, baby.

- W-why are you doing this? - I cried, and he dried my tears with his thumb. - please, let me go

I begged to no avail, only to hear a harsh laugh coming from him. 

- I'm doing this because you’re different from the others. But you already know that, right, princess? - He moved away from me and lit some candles, letting me see the room more clearly - Do you know how much time I spent observing you? The way you talk, the way you smile, the way you walk... The way you look, damn! All pretty, all perfect, but never all mine.

His delicate fingers holding the candles looked like some hypnotic thing, and i couldn’t stop stare at them.  

- I’m not the only one who think about you like this, i’m fucking sure about that. - The disgust in his voice, probably thinking about the guys who asked me to hang out with them, made him seem genuinely concerned about me. - So I couldn't wait any longer to finally make you mine.  

Gerard’s voice became serious, while his disgust turned to seriousness and possessiveness. The sound of the old wood on the floor creaking filled the environment while he walked toward me again. 

- I love you. I always have. And I know you love me too. - A fatherly countenance, together with the heat emanating from the candles, left the environment less morbid, but still gloomy.- If you didn't love me, you wouldn't have spent so much time with me, would you?

- You're crazy! - I screamed, still crying. - I've talked to you very few times. I've never said anything about love!

- You didn't say it, but I felt it. - Now, with the light brighter, I could see the highlight of his white skin contrasting with his black clothes. - You don't know what it's like to spend eternity looking for the right person. 

He walked towards me again with a smile I'd never seen before. The closer he got, the more outward his teeth became. My heart races when I realized that those was FUCKING FANGS! And “eternity” was meant literally.

He sat on the bed next to me and looked me in the eyes. His bright hazel iris bore into mine and sent a chill down my spine.

Panting, my nervousness increased and he noticed. Keeping his smile, letting it be obvious how he was enjoying this situation.

- You're so pretty, do you know? - His hand was on my body again, unbuttoning my blouse. He licked his lips admiring my exposed chest - The most beautiful woman in this world, and all mine.

I opened my mouth to protest, but the stern look he gave me shut me up.

My hands remained tied as he ripped the sleeves of my blouse, removing it completely.

- Please don't... 

Again, I tried to react, but he was already unzipping my pants, ignoring me. The only thing I could do was hope that he would feel sorry for me, and stop doing anything.

- Darling, you're mine now. Don't worry, I'll be nice... - his hands passed over me, who were now covered only by my black lingerie. - but just if you behave like a good girl. Will you do this for me, baby? Can you be a good girl?

While he spoke, his fangs turned apparently, in a perverse smile. He leaned over me and pressed cold kisses down my torso, past my ribs and up closer to my breasts, making me fight the pleasure that was slowly consuming my mind. A moan was about to escape my lips, but I bit it back, muffling any sound that might come out. 

- Looks like someone's enjoying it, huh?  - he hummed, with a haughty tone in his voice - I told you. You love me. 

I tried again to say something in protest, but this time it would be a lie. Not that I loved him, but I was involuntarily enjoying it. He licked his lips in such a hunger, I couldn't help but shiver. 

His hands slid down my panties, pushing them aside. He teased my entrance and made me sink my teeth even deeper into my bottom lip. He looked with satisfaction, laughing darkly, and said In a practically growl.

- Very wet, aren't we? 

I mumbled in response, trying not to make my state of hopeless obvious. Gerard removed his hand from inside me, and positioned himself on top of me, with his knees on either side of my waist. 

- You know I'm about to turn you into the same beast as I am, right? - I barely heard what he was saying, but his voice, at the same time that left me panicking, made me melt into the bed. - I just want to have some fun first. Vampires are cold... but don’t worry, you'll get used to it. 

Gerard undid his black  jeans, springing his boner free. I got shocked by the size, and he let out a grin with his shiny fangs. The situation itself could be romantic, like candles and a pretty guy who apparently loves me… but the kidnap shit messes with all of this.  

He thrusted his dick in me in one move, not even trying to be kind. I was in some kind of state of mind, forgetting that he was abusing me, I started to enjoy the situation. 

- Don’t be shy, honey. - He groaned, going somehow deeper. - I wanna hear all those pretty noises. 

It didn't take too long and I felt my orgasm getting close, and like he said, I moaned really loud, breathless, I felt him come inside of me. 

He kissed me passionately, muffling while I screamed in pleasure against his lips, reaching my apse. The taste of cigarettes mixed with red wine was good, and I kissed him back, needing and wanting more of him. 

I caught myself thinking of how I would feel being with him forever. I’ve never felt like that, loved by someone, cared for by someone, and Gerard gave me all I begged for at last few years. His electric touch, this erotic feeling he brought me, was it that bad? He said “turn you into the same beast as I am”, does it mean he’s gonna bite me? ‘Cause he looks exactly the same way as a vampire does in my mind. 

- Are you ready for this, hun? 

He whispered, biting soft my bottom lip, running his hand to my neck. 

Before I could even respond, his teeth were already buried in my artery. I could feel the heat of my blood being sucked from my veins. The feeling of his tongue running across my neck made the pain milder, even so, the piercing and sharp sensation of pain ran through my body, as did his hands, which touched every inch of my torso. 

As he tightened his grip on my waist, my warm blood began to drip from the corner of his mouth, painting his pale skin a bright red. When he finally let go of my neck, he left kisses at the bite site, moving up towards my jaw and finally reaching my lips again, smashing them hard. The taste of my blood now filled my palate, while our tongues intertwined in movements that seemed to have been rehearsed.

Soon, I found myself out of breath, and feeling tipsy by the smell of wine he emanated. 

The strength in my entire body seemed to have been removed, and I felt really weak. Gerard held my face with one of his hands when he broke the kiss looking for some oxygen, while his other hand was still squeezing my hips.

Quickly, my vision became blurry, and I could only feel his cold lips hit mine again and my body collapsed in that bed, feeling like i was on fire and leaving the scene outside like one of the paintings I saw in his sketchbook once

- G-gerard...

I mothered in a whisper.

- Shh, you'll be fine, baby. I'm gonna take care of you, and we'll be happy ever after. 

He caressed my hair and rocked me. Little by little I lost the last lapses of consciousness, becoming completely off.

___________________________________________

~ So... that's it, guys!

PART 2!

[cordspaghetti]

feeling nuts ok so i was looking at the full page of that High School Drag interview after um going thru the 5 stages of decomposition over it and i recognized one of gerard’s other answers (about people grabbing their package) as identical to something they said in a much older interview so i was like oh are we pulling quotes from other things here? can i Search the Web and find the og source for what he said about doing drag? so i DID and i found each sentence of his answer, which i bolded, within larger quotes from completely different places, like:

“I like to think of it as a cry for help trapped in a pop song...When I was writing it, I was remembering how hard it was to be a 16-year-old in high school. I always wanted to be an artist, so I was this loner kid who just got drunk all the time. I only had one real friend. There was a girl I really liked, and she ended up taking really sleazy photographs with her boyfriend, and that really crushed me...I was just swimming in this pit of despair, jealousy and alcoholism.” (June 23, 2004 from mtv archive)

“I went to school in drag, in art school and my day was completely different because everybody thought I was a chick.” (we all know this one, earliest place i found it was here from 2003ish but i think the site’s broken now)

“You’re going to come across shitty bands and a lot of shitty people. And if any one of those people call you names because of what you look like or they don’t accept you for who you are, I want you to look right at that motherfucker, stick up your middle finger, and scream ‘Fuck you!’” (found this in a bunch of places, the earliest so far being Oct 22, 2006 on imnotokay.net where it’s listed as an “old article”)

for reference again the lad mag interview goes like:

“How did you find high school? Hard. I always wanted to be an artist, so I was this loner kid who just got drunk all the time. I only had one real friend. 

In what ways were you a loner? I went to school in drag. People call you names because of what you look like, because they don't accept who you are.”

so this has me thinking that at least this portion of the interview is entirely collaged together, with the context abt high school for the second answer basically fabricated? idk how common a practice this is in like. music journalism but LAD Mag (which this is from) was a magazine that came with copies of Sugar for free, so maybe the standards were different OR SOMETHING. idk maybe gerard just happened to repeat himself here. i want to believe in high school drag. but also their history with gender is important to meeeee and i want to make sure i am not consuming Fake Info about it !!!! 

[endomentendo]

Which of the circus members have the assigned avatars in your the magnus circus au?

Caine: the spiral

Caine in the show is basically screaming the spiral to me. He’s hiding secrets, possibly lying most of the time, warps reality to his whim, and his tent reminds me of the distortions hallway.

Pomni: the hunt

She fell into this role because of her actions in the first episode. She’s actively hunting for a way out of the circus, and she keeps going and going when she went into the liminal office. Plus I felt giving her the job as hunter would move her into plots in meeting these other avatars that Caine hired her for.

Bubble: the stranger manifestation

I didn’t have much ideas besides being a minion under the thumb of Caine. But I hope to write more about them in future works.

Ragatha: the web

A quote from Annabel from the podcast as she was talking to Martin. Talking about how he would’ve been perfect for the web: “you always managed to get what you wanted through smiles and shrugs and stammerings that weren’t nearly as awkward as they seemed.” This quote is what gave me the idea that she would be perfect for the web in a storytelling sense.

Jax: the slaughter

Come on, you know why

Gangle: the lonely/ the stranger

Gangle as the lonely actually tackles a concept I wanna explore. After becoming a big star in the circus, she’s adored, but that’s all she’s given. No real connections or real friends to vent to. And her fans only like her as her role, only her mask. A real life struggle many idols and stars suffer through.

But she can also fit the role of the stranger. Someone who hides behind many identities that are given to her. Since, she literally has no face behind those masks.

Zooble: the flesh/ the lonely

I’m having trouble with this idea. A friend of mine recommended the flesh and made points how fitting it can be, think of it like a perfectionist. But I don’t know since it’s too similar to a character in the magnus archives: Gerard.

Initially she was assigned as the lonely due to her isolating herself most of the time in the show. I like to think she was a teen who felt so alone in their previous life. Still workshopping.

Kinger: the corruption

If it wasn’t for his insect obsession, he would’ve fallen into the spiral instead. But the corruption fits and I love the name: Lord of the Flies. And it also gives a romantic backstory with queenie and how his obsession in this rare species of insect he found, drove his marriage into a *corrupted* one.

Able: the eye

You’ll have to wait and see 👁️

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Hey! I loved your work! Can you write something with Gerard on the reunion tour and a reader who is a singer and is opening for the tour? (I'm sorry if it's confusing, English is not my first language)

HI! Thank you so much for liking my writing. I hope you like this one! let me know if you're looking for something different though.

Opener - Reunion!Gerard Way x GN!Reader

Pairing: Gerard x GN!Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1,456

Summary: You open for MCR on the reunion tour

My Chemical Romance. Reunion Tour. With Y/N. Those were the words displayed on the large signs in front of the venue. We had been on tour for a few weeks then, but the nerves never subsided. I pulled out my entry pass and walked through the backstage halls towards my dressing room. My soundcheck wasn’t for another hour, but I thought I’d go and scout out the stage area. I grabbed a Coke from the mini fridge and found my way to the stage entrance. Music was playing, but I was sure that was just the crew checking the speakers. Oh, how I was wrong. The whole crew was setting up instruments, and Mikey, Ray, and Frank were soundchecking their instruments.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” I stuttered, moving out of the way. Being on tour with My Chem had been a dream come true, but four weeks into the tour and little interaction with anyone in the band felt isolating, to say the least–especially since I was a solo artist.

“Wait!” I heard a voice shout, and I turned around to see someone standing up at the very back of the venue. I squinted through the lights and saw they were waving me over. Trying to avoid tripping over the cables lining the stage, I walked over to the figure. He was shorter than I expected him to be, his hair was long and brown, and he was dressed in a twilight t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a green flannel. A twilight shirt. This 45-year-old man was wearing a twilight shirt. I almost had to restrain myself from laughing.

“Y/N, I’ve been trying to find a good time to talk to you, you know,” he smirked. Gerard Way was smirking at me.

“Wait really?” I questioned, shocked that the frontman of one of my favorite bands was wanting to talk to me.

“Yeah. I just wanted to say I’m really glad we’ve got you on tour with us. I actually chose you to open. Been a fan for a while.” I stayed silent, entirely shocked that he was saying anything to me at all–let alone that he liked my music.

“Are you okay? You look like you need something to drink or you’re going to pass out,” Gerard placed a hand on my shoulder and bent down to look in my eyes. I nodded quickly, starting to feel a little dizzy.

“Yeah, I think I need some water,” I mumbled.

“Mikey! Can you pass me my water?” he shouted, Mikey throwing a plastic water bottle halfway across the venue. Gerard ran to pick it up, opened it, and passed it to me. I took a drink and a few deep breaths.

“I think I’m okay now, thank you,” I smiled.

“Good. Now I think it might be time for you to do a soundcheck. It looks like the others are done.” He got up from his seat and walked back towards the stage as I stumbled behind him. “Oh, and after the show, come find me. I want to show you something,” he beamed, slipping behind the curtain and disappearing backstage.

Soundcheck went well, and I had gone through all of the songs for the night. I was playing for about two hours, so I headed backstage to relax, call some of my friends, and respond to any emails or social media stuff I needed to. This was when I opened up my Instagram and found the post, a photo of me from behind, sound checking next to a sketch of the same thing, Gerard’s name signed at the bottom. The caption, wonderfully put: Our opener is both fantastic and beautiful - see them tonight and every night of tour! They’re going to do amazing things with their art and I can’t wait to see where it takes them. Especially with me as their number 1 fan - G

Sorry, Gerard Way called me beautiful. This wasn’t happening. Notifications were popping up on every social platform, we were trending on Twitter, fan accounts on Instagram were posting, and my text messages were blowing up. But there was no time to go and talk to Gerard or anyone else because the stage manager was rushing me to the stage, shouting, “Ten minutes till show time!” over and over again. The gig went great; everything went well, and the fans seemed to react well to my performance. After I’d finished and had a shower, I put on some sweatpants and a hoodie to watch Gerard and the others play on the television screen in my dressing room. The group ended with sleep and came backstage for a quick break before the encore. I ran out to see Gerard, who was very clearly out of breath and trying desperately to catch it.

“We need to talk when you’re done,” I looked at him with crossed arms. He nodded, looking slightly terrified that I was mad at him. It definitely didn’t help that Frank wouldn’t shut up teasing him as I walked away. They all went back on stage to play Helena and Vampires. The sound of the crowd screaming could be heard on the other side of the venue, even with closed doors. I could hear the band finishing up as each one of them ran down the hallway to their dressing room, except one. I heard a loud knock sound from outside my room. It was him; it had to be him. Opening the door, I knew I was right. He stood there panting and looking like a sweaty mess.

“Hi,” he breathed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. I opened the door further to let him in, and he immediately collapsed onto the couch.

“You guys had a good show,” I muttered, trying to avoid the topic of his Instagram post.

“Thanks, it felt good. But that’s not why I’m here, Y/N,” he sat up, having finally caught his breath.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I didn’t mean to cause an issue if you’re upset about the post. I just–I’m so fascinated with you… and your music. And god,” he gushed, “you’re so beautiful.” A smile grew on my face.

“You’re pretty cool too, Gerard.” I moved to sit next to him, and he scooted closer to me. I looked into his green eyes, desperately trying to read his mind. Was I insane, or did he feel something for me too? His hand moved up to cup my face, and I closed my eyes in response.

“Let’s both just breathe before we do anything we regret, okay?” I nodded, hoping he was going to kiss me. I felt the air enter my lungs and exit slowly before opening my eyes again. I felt a hand grip the back of my neck before my lips met his. They were rough, clearly desperate to feel something. I thought back to the teenager who had posters of My Chemical Romance on their bedroom walls and the reaction they would have if they knew what we were doing right then. The kid whose favorite song was Sleep, whose favorite music video was I’m Not Okay, who wished to be the very man before them. I was lucky, lucky that Gerard Way was sitting there showing me that every moment of disappointment it took to get here was worth it. I breathed through my nose, resting my arms around his shoulders and smiling into the kiss before it broke.

“I’m sorry, I had to,” Gerard rested his forehead against mine.

“It’s okay, Gee, I wanted it,” I ran my fingers through his hair, curls starting to form from the heat.

“Okay, you two, get a fucking room,” Frank laughed from the doorframe.

“We’re in a room!” I shouted, smiling brightly.

“Get another room!” Mikey shouted, walking past us. Finally being left alone, we moved into each other’s arms, finally cooling off from performing.

“We should probably figure out what we’re gonna do now that the guys know,” Gerard turned to me.

“Want to go get coffee?” I asked.

“See, this is why I like you!” he beamed, standing up and grabbing his car keys.

//

Feedback is appreciated! Please request on my page if you have a story idea. I write for lots of different fandoms so request anything and I'll write it!

[dilemma-danger]

☆welcome to my blog!!!☆

haii :D im ash!!!

my pronouns r he/they/it/bite :3 im also pansexual and a trans guy!

im a high schooler :P

i have tourettes syndrome, epilepsy, mdd, and anxiety

my sideblogs r @against-life-as-a-symptom (art, though i also post art here), @d1lemmaaa (kjrp), and @gerard-ways-right-sock (mostly made that bc there's a left sock blog lmao), and i also have a vent blog (dm if u want it!)

im also a therian!!! my theriotypes are a jaguar, a black jaguar, and a northern long-eared bat :] feel free to ask about them!

my blog is matching with my friend, @gay-little-freak!!

i went to one more time tour and saw ptv and blink-182 7/11/24!!!!

free palestine🇵🇸

i lovelovelove music!!! lots of different types!! i have my headphones on pretty much 24/7, you'll never see me with em off hehe

i have lots of favorite bands!! in no specific order, they're my chemical romance, pierce the veil, blink 182, hozier, green day, tv girl, lemon demon, system of a down, slipknot, leathermouth, frank iero, mailpup, salv the dog, s3rl, sodikken, weezer, ghost, femtanyl, insane clown posse, simple plan, fall out boy, and h3artcrush :33

my favorite genres r emo music and loudloudloud stuff that i can blow my eardrums out with!!!!

please send music recommendations x3

my current and past hyperfixations:

fnaf, gore, cannibalism, lobotomies, mcr, olms, plushies, ranboo, dsmp (this was like 4 years ago don't execute me please), furries, dinosaurs, saw (2004)

tags:

#thoughts : my og posts!!

#horny for frank iero : uh. i think this one is somewhat self explanatory :')

#asks : any asks people send me!!! (please send me asks ily)

#me : pics of me :33

i started doing these after i started posting, so its technically not all of my posts.

DNI:

homophobes/transphobes, ableists, zoophiles, racists, incest, and other basic dni. that includes assholes.

other random stuffs!!!

-my favorite color is neon green

-my favorite animals are snakes and olms

-pleaseee use tonetags im really bad at deciphering things lol

-im really cool and a really great guy this is Certified by the Government

-i love to draw and make things!! i make a lot of kandi and cosplays. lmk if you want to see any of my cosplays :3

-i collect soda tabs and plushies

pictures of me, my killjoy oc, and blinkies/stamps below the cut!!!

this is me!!!!

my killjoy oc!!!!

DILEMMA DANGER!!! (name by @gay-little-freak :3)

dilemma is mostly based off of me, so we're kinda similar!!

pronouns: he/they

gender: male (trans)

sexuality: panromantic asexual

he lovessss music, and he plays the guitar xP

he wears this a lot!!!

this is what he looks like!!! i havent actually drawn them a full reference yet, i still need to. look out for that!!

i roleplay as him sometimes!!!

whenever a post is him talking, itll be set up like this:

text goes here

-dilemma danger

sometimes it wont have the "-dilemma danger" part, but only if ive already stated it earlier in the conversation :]

he is a MAJOR crash king. he has a singular brain cell and he does not use it hehe

hes got sharp teeth and a dirty blonde fluffy mullet that usually covers his eyes.

he actually is very good at fighting, when he needs to be!!

hes tall and lanky and has a diagonal scar from his cheek to his nose from a clap with some dracs.

he hatesssss firefights and hes not very good at shooting, so he usually carries around a knife! he still uses his gun though, just not often.

he likes zone five the most and is debating finding a place there to live, but he currently lives on the cusp of zone three and four.

he does have a group, but im still developing them :]

BLINKIES!!!

thanks for reading :D this ended up really long hehe

[youcouldmakealife]

Sven/Gérard/Yvette; almost home

Another of the Kickstarter fills, for a request for some OG OT3.

“You know,” Blair says. “As a single dude, when your friends start getting married and have kids, usually you start to drift apart.”

Sven blinks at him, feeling slow, as he so often has lately. Blair’s speaking to him, but obviously he’s the married friend with kids in this equation, in which case the single dude is — ah.

“I don’t think we’ve drifted apart,” Sven says, looking over at Gérard. Gérard smiles back, small.

He doesn’t think they’ve drifted apart at all.

“Well, no, you’ve done the exact opposite,” Blair says. “That’s kind of my point.”

“I don’t understand what your point is meant to be,” Sven says.

“Leo?” Blair says. “You want to do that English to Olsen translation for me?”

Gérard smiles again. It looks tired. Sven sympathizes. Empathizes. Whatever the word is.

Usually he’s much better at this, but he hasn’t had an undisturbed night of sleep since little Gerard was born. Well, except on the road, but that’s exhausting in its own way — his first night away from Yvette and the baby, he spent half the night texting her for updates until she told him to sleep so at least someone would.

Sven is a champion sleeper. He’s renowned for it. Or, he was. He misses it. Sleeping in. Lazy mornings in bed. Napping just for the pleasure of it, rather than because it’s the only sleep he can snatch. He knew what he was giving up, but — well, he didn’t know.

“Too tired for translation,” Gérard says.

“Me or you?” Sven asks.

“Both, probably,” Gérard says.

“Okay,” Blair says. “Uh, usually people, you know, quit having shit in common? Instead of uh, literally moving in so they can help take care of the baby? Typically?”

“Well,” Sven says. “Have they considered it? Because I do have to say, it’s significantly easier to handle childcare when you outnumber the baby three to one.”

“Neither of you look like it’s even remotely easy,” Blair says. “Did you sleep at all last night, Cap?”

“I slept six hours,” Sven says. They weren’t all consecutive, but even so, he thinks those are solid numbers for a newborn. “As did Yvette.”

Hers were consecutive, thanks to an eye mask, ear plugs, and a noise machine. He can’t begrudge her any of it; she’s the one at home taking care of little Gerard while they’re here enduring their teammates’ busybodying because the coaching staff is running late. And not just one or two, but all of them. Sven would like to think that implies something scandalous, but most likely they’re in a meeting. He’s glad they don’t have meetings. He doesn’t think he could handle meetings on six hours of sleep. Frankly he doesn’t think he could handle meetings on eight.

Or perhaps they’ve all been fired. Sven hopes that isn’t the case. He likes them, but more importantly, he thinks if he had to adjust strategies right now he might malfunction. He’s learning something new every minute, it feels like. There is no room in his brain.

“That seems like a lot for a baby?” Bowie says. “Sleep,” he adds, when Sven blinks at him. He’s lost the thread again.

“Oh,” Sven says. “Yes. That’s my point.”

“Wait,” Dan says. “How many did Gérard sleep?”

“Seven,” Gérard yawns. His were also not consecutive. He’s an unfortunately light sleeper. He’s managed to adjust on the road, so Sven hopes he’ll be able to adjust to the baby too, but it hasn’t happened yet. But it’s only been a month. It feels much, much longer than that.

“Okay,” Scott says, leaning in, his eyes a little wild. His wife’s due any day, so Sven isn’t surprised. “I don’t know if my wife would agree, but you know what? For six hours of sleep, I’m in. Gérard, what do you charge?”

“You have to name your child after him,” Cary says. “Obviously.”

“I would genuinely consider doing that,” Scott says.

“Aren’t you guys having a girl?” Bowie asks.

“Gerardina,” Scott says. “What do you say, G?”

“That sounds like an STD,” Cary says. “You’d do that to your poor kid?”

“For six hours of sleep a night?” Scott says. “Absolutely.”

“Too bad,” Sven says, reaching a hand out. Gérard’s sitting too far away for him to reach, so he lets his hand hover in the air, hoping Gérard knows that Sven’s wrapped a telepathic arm around his shoulders. He might. Gérard is an exceptional individual. “He’s mine.”

“My wife’s a good cook,” Scott says. “Those two don’t cook, do they?”

Sven stands up, walking over to Gérard’s stall so he can not so telepathically wrap a possessive arm around his shoulders. Gérard leans back into him.

“I cook,” Gérard says.

“Free meals, and I’ll name two kids after you,” Scott says. “First name, middle name, everything.”

Sven tightens his grip.

“I don’t think Sven would be willing to give me up,” Gérard says.

Sven’s glad he knows this.

The coaching staff come in then — not fired en masse, Sven is thankful to see — and everyone jumps up, the few who haven’t changed into their gear hurriedly devoting themselves to the task.

Practice is harder than usual, but easier than conversation. There’s muscle memory to it, the literal practice of hockey, broken down into its bare components. Conversation flows, it changes, he has to adapt. That’s true of hockey too, but moreso during games than in practice. He’s only scored two goals in the past six weeks, but practice, that he can do. It’s almost nice, getting to use his body, to know that everything’s still there, that it still knows what to do, especially after he found his phone in the fridge this morning. He hadn’t even realised it was missing.

“I’ve never been more popular in my life,” Gérard says on the drive back. Sven isn’t a fan of driving at the best of times, so they’ve mutually agreed Gérard should be the one behind the wheel. “Everybody wants to name their kid after me.”

Sven grunts.

“Don’t worry,” Gérard says. “I won’t take Scottie up on his offer. I know you wouldn’t know what to do without me.”

Yvette might — she’s very capable, far more comfortable with everything. She’s tired, but not totally at sea. But Sven?

“I wouldn’t have the first idea,” Sven says honestly.

“Sleep for the rest of the drive,” Gérard says.

“It’s only ten minutes,” Sven says, but he closes his eyes, and doesn’t open them again until Gérard’s gently shaking his shoulder, telling him to come inside.

[chemical-killjoy]

Can you do Coffee Shop AU x Accidental kiss

With Y/N And Gerard Way?

Of course!! Sorry it took so long! It's been a hell of a month lol

Kisses and Coffee

Gerard x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Gerard and Y/N meet in a coffee shop, become friends and more after an accidental kiss

You had been coming to your favourite coffee shop for the last decade, and upon learning that it closed, you were on the hunt for a new one. This devastating news left you wandering around town for a while until you saw a cute little cafe you had never been too before. And there was something about it that just felt right.

You took a small two-person table by the window in the corner of the cafe and looked around. It shop was a light blue-grey with paintings of flowers and posters decorating the walls. The air smelt of coffee, toast and biscuits. There was a hum of noise as the cafe was, while small, pretty full, and it felt like a warm hug.

Once you saw the menu, you were sold. This had to be your new coffee place, I mean, they sold churros!! And ham and cheese croissants! In the same place? Insane in the best way. You ordered a mocha and muffin and were snuggled up with a book while waiting when a hand landed on your shoulder.

“Wow, you're early for a change!” The voice that greeted you was warm, but unfamiliar. You turned around to face the stranger, and the poor man's face dropped.

“I'm so sorry, you are not the person I thought you were,” he said slowly, standing awkwardly and putting his hands in his pockets.

“It's OK, happens all the time,” you lied, giving the man a small smile to put him at ease. He had kind eyes and smile, with an air about him that just made you feel comfort able. There was something about him that soothed you, despite the random introduction.

The man sat down at a table in the opposite corner, and as your food and coffee arrived, he waited for a person that never showed.

You were so engrossed in your book, that when you finished the last few pages, your coffee (what was left of it) was cold, and your muffin barely touched. You put the book down and took a minute to return to reality. You looked up to see the man from earlier checking his watch once again, sighing and looking down at the table. You knew that look well.

You walked over before you could stop yourself.

“Hi,” you started, unsure of yourself. “Mind if I join you?”

“Ah, sure! Doesn't seem like she's coming anyway.” The man replied.

“I thought I recognised that look. I'm sorry,” you said, looking away. “Hey, my name's Y/N.”

“Gerard. Nice to meet you.” Gerard held out a hand, which you took softly. There was a warmth to it that mad you smile.

You sat down, thinking of how to start A Conversation. How do people do that again? Luckily Gerard swooped in to end the awkward silence.

“What book are you reading? You seemed super engrossed in it?”

“Yeah? Sometimes I get carried away when I read, it's like I'm not really on Earth and I'm in the book, watching like a fly on the wall,” you laughed, “Sometimes I get so invested, I make faces and gasp out loud without realising I'm doing it.”

Gerard giggled. “You know you've got a good book on your hands when that happens. So what kind of stories are you into?” He asked, and you launched into a long and comfortable conversation, as though you'd both known each other for centuries.

It had been a few months since you first met, but you and Gerard would meet up every week, having your own miniature book club that eventually turned into exchanging CDs and long heart to hearts til the coffee shops closed and the pubs became quiet.

Over time you struggled to keep your feelings or the man at bay. He was kind and cuddly, but strong and brave, and you just admired him so much. It was hard to stay friends when you watched him talk and focused more on his lips than the words he was speaking.

And though you didn't know it, Gerard got more and more comfortable with you, and found himself falling as well. The small gestures became touches, a soft brush of the hand when passing you something, leaning his head on your shoulder in a booth when you're tired, hugs that last just a moment longer than intended, and the occasional kiss on the cheek when it had been a while. You were scared to think that maybe it was only in your mind that his lips lingered for a breath longer than a friend.

It was a cool night and you and Gerard were meeting up at a pub, as you'd been busy with work all day but you both needed some time away from it all, happily finding refuge in each other.

The pub was a warm and vibrant atmosphere, people laughing, mugs clinking, and staff weaving through the crowd, remarkably spilling nothing. You struggled to find Gerard in the crowd, but suddenly there was a hand on the small of your back. You turned around and the scowl on your face shifted to a smile.

“Gee! How are you!” You cried giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek... or what you intended to be a kiss on the cheek. Gerard had the same idea, and you both went in the same direction. Your lips collided in a short and quick peck that sent electricity through both of you, pulling away with wide eyes.

Gerard laughed. “Well, I'm good now,” he said with a flirting smirk, and you turned your head and blushed.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to-” you started, flustered.

“No no it's fine, I'm sorry, hey, how about we grab a seat?” Gerard stopped you.

You spent a few hours happily munching on hot chips and a burger, and sipping a cider while you chatted about anything and everything you could possibly think of, Gerard talking your ear off equally. By the time your food was gone and your drinks disappeared, the pub was nearly empty and a comfortable quiet came over you both.

Gerard looked at you.

“You know, you had nothing to apologise for, right?” Gerard asked, out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“When we kissed. I know it was an accident and all but you didn't need to apologise. I actually, um, I didn't mind it. I wouldn't mind it again.”

You looked away, cheeks heating up fast. When you didn't answer fast enough, Gerard tried to backtrack.

“'M sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, you know what, just forget I said it, it didn't happen and doesn't really matter anyway, I me-”

“Gee.” Was all you had to say to silence him.

You looked up at him with the Y/E/C eyes that he adored with all his heart. Even if your lips never touched his again, he decided he'd be content to just have your eyes stay on his for a few more moments. But you took him by surprise, putting you hand on his and then kissing his cheek. When you pulled away, you shyly bit your lip.

Gerard leant forward slowly, and kissed the skin where your cheek meets your lips, desperate to prove his point, lost for words, and terrified to scare you off. His lips stayed on your skin for a moment longer and you felt his breath on your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. You pressed your forehead against his, eyes closed, noses rubbing for a moment, before you both leaned in and kissed. It was magic. Not the extreme, passionate, thrilling heat. No. But soft. Calm. Warm. Like the safety coming home from a storm. The contentment of a good book. The joy and comfort of your favourite coffee shop.

The kiss ended and you both barely pulled away, soft smiles on your faces, light in your eyes, and quiet laughter drifting from you.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” Gerard said, hand still behind your neck.

“You have no idea how much I need you to do it again.”

And with that, your lips met. And would meet, again, again and again.

Taglist:

This is a new account, I was @immrbrightsideeee so please click here if you were and still want to be on my taglist, or if you want to be added (it'd mean a lot!)

@fandomfoodiedancer @smiling-girl @niche-bitch @charlie-rulerofhell

[tsukimefuku]

these silly little memories ❖ nanami kento

summary: you reminisce about the past while chatting with ijichi and yuuji.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, soft/implied nanami x reader, fluff, poking fun at nanami's teenage bangs.

wc: 900

notes, etc: i wrote this to the sound of sunny (yorushika). this is a short little silly story that i had in my mind for a while before finally deciding on writing it, lol.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

You, Ijichi and Yuuji were seated silently on a table. All three were waiting for Nanami to meet up just so everybody could take a single car ride — he and Yuuji were going on a mission together, and you were going home after assisting Shoko on her duties for the day.

You could pay for a cab, but then again, why would you do that if you could slack off some more benefits from Jujutsu High?

"So, Ijichi..." You began, half-minded at this point. It had barely been a week since you arrived at Jujutsu High.

He quickly propped up, ready to answer absolutely any question you could have as a new sorcerer (and somebody else to order him around, it seemed).

Since you were new to Jujutsu High, had not been on a mission with Nanami up until this point, and Gojo was the one to bring you in, Ijichi figured you'd still have questions about the way things worked around there.

"Y-yes?"

"What is Nanami like here?" You questioned, out of the blue.

That caught both him and Yuuji by surprise, as both of them answered with a resounding eh?

You sighed.

"I mean, he was a very stern, serious teenager when I met him years ago. He looks a lot different, but is he?"

"Oh, you knew Nanamin?!" Yuuji asked, eager to pry some insight into his newly found mentor. 

You looked at him and smiled.

"Oh, yeah, I sure did. We met at Odate when he and Gojo saved me."

Ijichi's mind started to flash some things to him until he finally realized.

"Wait. That was you?!"

You blinked, confused.

"What do you mean, 'that was me?'"

"I-I..." Ijichi stuttered. "I was the one helping him in research during that mission."

"Oh... Oh! Ijichi, of course!" You exclaimed, much to his surprise, while you remembered decade-old bits and pieces. "It's good to finally be meeting you in person" you said, tapping his shoulder.

He smiled, slightly embarrassed for not having recognized your name when you introduced yourself a few days ago.

"So you knew him as a teenager too! Is he any different now?" You inquired, staring at Ijichi until he became a little uncomfortable.

"I-I think not. He was always the most responsible and m-mature one of us" Ijichi finally answered, and you smiled, reclining back on your chair. 

"Nanamin is very serious," Yuuji began, "and he usually lectures us when we have a blunder or are in the middle of a mission — or maybe it's just me that he lectures so much."

"No, it's every one..." Ijichi answered, involuntarily sighing.

"Oh, he still does that? The lecturing thing?" You asked. "I mean, maturity minus the bangs, right?" You chirped, chuckling softly. Ijichi covered his mouth, but you could see a faint smile forming.

Yuuji was at a loss.

"Bangs?" The boy asked earnestly.

"Oh, you're gonna love this!" You said, as you fished your wallet out of your pocket. From it, you took an old Polaroid picture that featured you, your best friend, your brother, Nanami and Gojo when they were on their mission in Odate. Then, you proceeded to hand the picture to Yuuji, and his eyes beamed, like he had discovered some very important piece of information instead of complete shenanigans.

"Those bangs were something. Once, when I had to patch his face up, his hair kept falling all over the bruises, it looked like someone had punched a blonde Gerard Way" you let out, scratching your head with a grin. Yuuji let out a laugh, and Ijichi seemed to scoff in an attempt to keep himself from laughing.

You noticed that.

"Oh, come on, Ijichi. You know it was funny and somewhat true. You can totally laugh about it with me, I won't tell if you don't, promise" you said, extending a pinkie finger in his direction.

He looked at your hand uncertain, but began lifting his own pinkie extended towards yours.

"What is the fun? I heard laughter" the already familiar voice resounded from behind the three of you.

Ijichi was paralyzed in stone, and you turned your face grinning mischievously at Nanami. Yuuji quickly tried hiding the picture, fumbling around and letting it fall to the ground.

"Hm?" Nanami got down to pick up the picture, and took a good look at it. "It seems that you have this ancient piece of history still in your possession."

"Of course. How else would I have a picture of 'bangs Nanami?'" You retorted, reaching for the picture while still seated.

He took a step back, pulling it away from you. 

"If I remember correctly, that morning you ate tamagoyaki inside miso soup, with salmon, also inside miso soup, all mashed up, and choked yourself," he said, lifting his gaze towards you, one brow up.

"Eh? T-that... did not h-happen at all!" It did.

"Wait, so you... Put your tamagoyaki inside your miso soup? Why?" Ijichi asked, slightly incredulous.

"And with mashed salmon too?!" Yuuji chimed in, also kind of aghast.

"Oh, shut up, the both of you!"

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I just don't really care how I eat my food!"

"Clearly" Nanami noted. "She also mixes anything she has available to eat into a desecrated version of the original food. It's unsightly" he complemented, before handing the picture back to you.

You sighed, amusedly defeated, saying, "well, you have changed. Now you poke me back when I poke fun at you."

"I'm unaware of such a thing," Nanami replied, pushing his glasses into position with one hand, using the opportunity to cover up a discreet smile with his hand over his face.

[soffsketches]

I'm taking a break on drawing for a second so here you go

GothCleat Headcanons

Post Season 2 Ending

Lincoln nervous on the first date ended up showing Scary how to play FIFA. Bonus he let's her win at the end and Scary insists on coming over to practice so she can beat him fair and square

Lincoln fell first and Scary fell the hardest

They watch the world cup together and Scary would narrate as if if Mr.Kicks was scoring

Lincoln would gift Scary patches he made for her outfits. Yes most soccer related

Scary would get a part time job at a cafe and would prepare Mochas for Link but she'll say that it's made from chocolate covered espresso beans, his favorite

Scary would realize she fell for Link when her poetry slowly start mentioning him, figuratively. No one understands where he appears but Scary doesn't want to explain it too much either

Telling the parents

Lincoln sit Grant and Marco down at the table saying he has an important announcement. (I feel like it's been like a year or two since the ending of season 2) Lincoln goes on to say that he's a man and that he has feelings towards someone and he wants them, the parents to know about it. Grant and Marco were a bit worried but trying to be supportive smile and say that they're here for Link. Link says that it's with Scary and Grant gives out a sigh of relief and Marco pats Grant in support. "We're really happy for you Link and thank you for telling us."

Scary would be sitting at the table with Veronica and Terry Jr. probably eating dinner or something. She would casually mention she started dating Link and both parents would sit there staring at each other wondering what to say. Terry now with a better understanding of Scary, he would say "That's cool. Happy for you" but IMMEDIATELY would breakdown and become a bit emotional happy for her daughter. Veronica would smile.

Grant and Terry would have a bit of awkward tension between them but would slowly get over it with time. Awkward silence and stares would be a regular thing every now and then.

Garry

Named after Gerard Way, no doubt about it. BUT I would like to add Links would put the idea of naming them Garry pronounced Jarry.

Reveal? Easy: A soccer ball with colored powder inside. Gender? Future Futball Champion

Lincoln would realize he'd want to be a coach after helping Garry kick their first goal at little leagues.

Finally, Scary saw that Garry was sad they didn't make the team so she encouraged Garry to be the mascot. Garry a bit hesitant about the idea looked at Link. Link being the coach said that Garry reminded him of his good friend Normal who was once the mascot. Link seeing the look in Garry's eyes reassured them that whatever they decide to do, Scary and Link would support them.

Ok I think that's all for now. Enjoy the Gothcleat content. I will provide more in the future.

Take care y'all!!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling out my friend's husband's shitty attitude about money?

For context: I (28) have been friends with this woman, R (29 f), since middle school. I met her husband twice before the wedding and wasn't impressed but didn't see any red flags.

Oh how the flags have reddened.

R and her husband regularly host game nights that feature mostly video games. He always has a controller and most of the time wins every game. And he is a very sore winner about it. It is also very obvious that only his male friends are prioritized during these game nights and the women and women-presenting among us are just bodies in the room to entertain them and grab them drinks. I was uncomfortable with this but didn't realize others in the group felt the same way until very recently.

The gals and non binary pals in the group have started having monthly dinner dates without the guys there. These have been an absolute highlight, letting us get to know each other and reconnect with high school friends without being drowned out by the guys.

And as the gals have been talking, its become more obvious that R's husband is not a great guy. He's made suggestive comments towards most of the women in the group (things along the line of "I would date you if I wasn't married" and "if I were to have a threesome with my wife, I'd choose you") and again, favors the men in the group always. He'll make big mansplaining speeches about abortion rights and leftist politics while whining about being told he shouldn't support JKR and treating me like a stripper for performing in drag. (His super religious x-ian friend was more excited and impressed by my Gerard Way Halloween outfit than mr. Left wing 😵). Frankly, my best friend refuses to go to his house anymore and is convinced he's trying to cheat on his wife, but that's just speculation.

This past weekend was a double feature, game night one day and girl's night the next evening. Game night was incredibly awkward because 3 people showed up and I had to deal with R and her husband alone for like an hour. This was when he made the comment about drag shows being like a strip club and that he *wanted* to support my passion but it just made him so *uncomfortable*. I really wouldn't push the issue if he said he didn't want to go, but he has to look like the good guy always and won't say his homophobia with his whole chest unless challenged. Whatever.

So at game name, R's husband randomly brought up that she "owes" him money for a credit card bill he paid. They aren't my finances so I don't care how they share money, but it was really rude of him to bring it up in front of her friends. We all just kept our mouths shut (because he talks about money a lot) and went on with the party.

The next night was girl's night. And a lot more people showed up. Another friend I've known since middle school, L (29 f), has a rich lawyer husband. During dinner the topic of a sugar daddy came up and L started joking about how she can live off her husband's salary and what's his is hers and what's hers is hers. R started to agree like that was how it is with her husband. So I pointed out that he was asking her to pay him back in front of everyone. She deflected saying that he was joking and I responded that it wasn't a very funny joke.

It wasn't until after dinner that I realized my comments about R's husband probably came off as aggressive and rude. I just genuinely don't understand why he would make a joke out of hounding his wife for money if they're actually sharing finances. On top of his other shitty qualities and tone deaf remarks, I honestly don't think he was joking and she's covering up for his rude behavior to pretend like their marriage is as harmonious and peaceful as everyone is told its supposed to be. Was I the asshole for calling it out? Does he deserve to be called out to his face next time? Or should I shut my mouth next time?

AITA?

What are these acronyms?