#and you ruined a good band

[yourfavoritepeanutbutter]

horrible guilty pleasure comfort thing at the moment is reading dsmp fanfics (mainly SBI hurt/comfort) 😔 and it’s just like. UGHHHHH. i miss it so bad. is it bad that i miss like. the dream smp. before everything fell apart and people were shitty. like. i lowkey would kill to experience the joy i did being 13/14 years old in 2020-early 2022 and watching those livestreams. and it’s just like. UGH.

now everyone is weird. the only ones i trust and keep up with anymore are like the ones who were literally teenagers/the age i am now during it (tommy, tubbo, ranboo) and i like keeping up with phil just bc he’s fun and seems polite.

but like. i was never into dream so when stuff came out about him i was like oh yeah fuck him. but nothing will explain the sheer dread when the stuff on wilbur came out. like. i was SOOOO into his music and lovejoy was actually really good imo, as someone who is genuinely into music and not just following along like “oo my favorite youtuber made music” like it was actually GOOD and i showed it to my dad and we tried getting tickets and i was sad i couldn’t and it’s just. what the fuck???

once again. UGH. i miss the vibes. i miss making my dramatic fanart and screaming over the average lore just because it was FUN.

i got close with some of my closest friends and even closer with already close friends by connecting over that little minecraft thing. i have a lmanburg flag folded in my closet and copious drawings of the streamers as their characters. i just miss it.

i feel like i cant find anything with the same vibe either since starting to reread the fanfics. like maybe if i start watching hermit craft? please feel free to leave suggestions!!!!!!!!!

[sweeter0da]

Bro why did I like black out the fact his hair was literally “GRAB AND PULL AND MOAN” length

[gloomtownfags]

FUCK the meaning, the implications of Sneaking Out of Heaven!!!!!!

Viewing this person you love as an angel, as holy

They belong in Heaven they are that holy to you. You are so unworthy and unholy compared to them that they must be sneaking out of Heaven, God must not be looking when they come to see you, they put away their halo, they hide their holiness when with you because you are so unworthy and unholy

But they love you. And you love them and you are so in love you never want them to leave.

I'll have to jump the gates when I die 'Cause they won't let me inside

I'm not worthy of Heaven and definitely not worthy of your love but you love me and I love you and since I have your love nothing will stop me I will jump the gates not even the literal gates of Heaven, not even God can stop me from loving you and keep me from you

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Bestie I reread you pebble alpha cowboy au thing last night and it’s plaguing my every being pls I need more if you can find it in your heart this holiday season, won’t you consider donating to wrath’s that need your help?

Oooo you just summoned my undying cowboy AU brainrot. And yes, I do want to write more about it, so, there you go, my humble offering to you. Cowboy smut coming your way, hehehehehehehe. (this got way longer than i intended, sorry for the delay)

So, alright, maybe Pebble's been staying a bit longer in town than he usually would. But the people are nice in here, really. There's Ivy, who's taken to slipping Pebble free drinks when Omega pretends not to be looking ; the big man himself, despite his intimidating stature, is actually quite sweet, gentle in a way you wouldn't expect at first glance, with a warmth to him that inevitably has people eager to come back to the saloon.

Pebble also met a ranch owner with a dazzling smile named Delta for whom he's been working for a little while now, helping with everything he can from repairing fences to taming feisty horses, glad to be needed and earn his keep. The room he's renting is pretty nice, for how little Zephyr, the inn keeper, charges him for it, definitely far from the worst place he's stayed at. And there's that cowgirl who's freaking terrifying but often quietly joins Pebble for a smoke in some back alley- somehow, she always finds him, no matter where Pebble goes. He only learns her name, Mist, after nearly a week of silently sharing joints. He's fairly sure she could break him in half. He's never met a cooler person in his entire life.

So, yeah, Pebble stays. And it has nothing to do whatsoever with the asshole of a sheriff who's apparently developped the uncanny ability to make Pebble cum faster every time they end up cramed into some dark nook with their hands down each other's pants, no sir.

Because, yes, it happens again, and again, and again. They'll have a drink or two after a long day, find an excuse to pick a fight, which will quickly turn sexual, because apparently nothing gets either of them harder than homoerotic loathing.

Sometimes, Pebble wonders how damaged he must be to get off on the threat of Alpha's teeth against his jugular.

Today, though, is different. The sky is still very much high in the sky, its rays beating down on Pebble's bare back as he splashes water on his face, taking a much-needed break from trying to get a stubborn bull to still long enough for him to check on the healing laceration wound on its flank. A prickling sensation at the back of his neck is what gets Pebble to glance up, reajusting his crooked hat, only to meet familiar hungry eyes staring right back.

It's a shock, somehow, to see Alpha in daylight, fully exposed in a way the night and its silver moon never let him be, a part of him always shrouded in shadows. Not now, though. Now, the sheriff is standing, hip cocked to rest against the fence, arms crossed in front of his chest, head tilted to the side, and Pebble can see so much details at once it almost makes him dizzy. The scar on his arm looks thicker, more gnarly, and for the first time, Pebble wonders how he got it. With the way Alpha's shirt is open, so widely he might as well have taken it off, Pebble is treated to the sight of damp skin and a smattering of hair that has him nearly drooling.

And Alpha's face...it looks as though he paused as he was shaking his hair free from his hat, like maybe he didn't see Pebble until it was too late, until he'd let his walls down enough to take an accessory usually worn like a shield off without a second thought ; now he's frozen, features weirdly open, eyebrows unfurrowed, the crease between them smoothed out, lips slightly parted, his facial scars pale against sunkissed skin.

It hits Pebble like a sack of bricks then, that Alpha isn't just hot. He's beautiful. Shit.

Thankfully, the sheriff himself looks like his brain shut down for a minute, giving Pebble time to straighten and clear his throat awkwardly.

"Fuck you're doin' here ?"

Alpha arches an eyebrow, but it feels less provocative than usual, more genuinely taken aback.

"Wanted to check on Delta."

Sure, yeah, sounds perfectly logical. The man in question took a nasty hoove to the shoulder trying to calm down a panicked horse, makes sense that Alpha, as the sheriff, would be preoccupied. Still, Pebble's never seen him at the ranch. He knew that Alpha came here from time to time - he and Delta have lived in the same city for ages, of course he does- but Pebble never crossed path with him here, in this place that he associate with honest work, tiring but gratifying, something almost soothing in the way it takes up all his focus and drives away all thoughts from his head.

Alpha looks out of place here, even though he's probably more comfortable and used to the place than Pebble is. Like his brain cannot comprehend the man he labeled as the bane of his existance and the very real menace for his stamina standing here, edges softened by the surprise, looking fine and relaxed under the blinding afternoon sun.

To Pebble, Alpha is white hot rage pulsing in his veins, adrenaline shooting through his body, bloodied teeth bared in a dangerous smile, moonlight sparsely lighting an alley, quick breathes and bitten back noises. To see him in such a drastically different scenery has Pebble reeling.

"...is that a bite mark ?"

Pebble blinks, yanked out of his thoughts by Alpha's voice. He doesn't know how to interpret that tone, but he doesn't have to follow the sheriff's gaze to know what he's talking about.

"Coyote. Nearly ripped a good chunk out of me."

While Pebble isn't exactly insecure about the huge jaw imprint on his right side, he is aware how off putting it can be. Deep, irregular lacerations, from where the beast sank its teeth while shaking its head like it was trying to pull Pebble appart - and it probably was.

Alpha wistles lowly, Pebble distantly noting that this is the first peaceful conversation they have.

"Always hell to make 'em let go."

With a shrug, Pebble absent-mindedly runs his thumb on one of the rough scars tearing through his ribs.

"Had to pry its jaw open with my own hands. Twisted its neck real quick - guess adrenaline does make you do insane things."

Something changes in Alpha stance then. He straightens, taking a deep breath, eyes roaming on Pebble with that same intensity that never fails to make him look away.

"That's so fucking hot," the sheriff grunts, not even giving Pebble time to react to the statement before he descends onto him, gripping his wrist with bruising strenght, "I need to fuck you, can I fuck you ?"

And, well. They haven't actually fucked fucked yet. Handjobs is as far as they got but somehow, now that the notion's on the table, Pebble is craving Alpha on top of him. Just like that. He feels a little light-headed, so of course he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

"I don't know, can you ?"

Alpha rolls his eyes hard enough it looks painful.

"Shut your damn mouth."

They end up sneaking into Delta's house, Pebble deciding he'd rather not know where Alpha learnt how to pick locks so efficiently. He'd be more reluctant if his dick wasn't currently doing all the thinking, besides Delta won't be back in a while, so really, what he doesn't know can't hurt him, right ? Pebble vows to work extra hard once he doesn't feel half blind with lust. At least Alpha has the decency to lead him toward the guest room, not Delta's, because to that, Pebble would've drawn the line. Probably. He isn't sure how much he can trust his morals in his current state.

The bed creaks loudly when Pebble's back hits the mattress, Alpha landing above him the second he's gotten rid of his shirt. It's different, there's so much more skin to touch, Pebble is obsessed, gropping greedily, mapping warm flesh, scars and patches of hair with his palms. Alpha is doing much the same, except it's his mouth travelling all over Pebble's body hungrily, tongue darting out insistently, tasting him like a man starved. Teeth nipping here and there, making Pebble flinch instinctively just to arch up into it once his stupid, lust-fried brain registers how good it feels.

Things get even more frantic once Alpha manages to get rid of Pebble's pants, belt and all. He doesn't remember kicking his boots off, but he must've, because they're nowhere to be seen. Not that Pebble manages to focus on that for long with the frenzied way Alpha grabs at every available parts of him. Like he can't help it. It's very flattering, as well as unbelievably hot. Then Alpha nuzzles the divot created by his hipbone, trailing lower until he can tear off Pebble's underwear with his teeth, want overrules any rational thoughts he might have had. The sight of the Sheriff, face pressed against the burning skin of his lower stomach, looking up with a devilish grin, makes Pebble's cock kick so hard his eyes roll back a little.

By the time Alpha is shucking the rest of his own clothes, Pebble needs him inside of him yesterday. Even more so when the sheriff unceremoniously shoves his fingers inside Pebble's mouth. He has half a mind to bite them, just to be a pain, but really, he doesn't have time for this today. So he coats Alpha's fingers in saliva, while the man does a number on his neck, no doubts leaving a ring of purple bruises all around his throat.

Prep is a quick thing though Alpha doesn't rush, stretching Pebble with ruthless efficiency, until the sheriff has him writhing and biting his tongue not to beg. Thankfully, Alpha's patience seems to be running thin, because soon enough, the head of his cock presses against Pebble's hole, eyes flying up to ensure he has the go-ahead. Pebble wraps his legs around Alpha's hips as an answer, already flushed and sweaty. With a fleeting smirk, Alpha finally, finally pushes in.

And it rocks Pebble's fucking world because god fucking dammit, when's the last time he's been with someone he wanted so much ? Not just some casual attraction, no, this fully encompassing desire that burns bright in his veins ? He can't remember. In one smooth, slow thrust, Alpha bottoms out, panting heavily in the hollow of Pebble's throat when he does so. There's a moment of stillness where they both try to adjust, where Pebble has the time to relish in how full he feels, then Alpha's rocking his hips shallowly, testing the waters.

It quickly becomes not enough, prompting Pebble to swallow several times, until he can taunt.

"That all you've got ? C'mon, fuck me like you mean it, sheriff."

Judging by the throaty groan that gets him, Pebble struck a nerve. Which is only confirmed when Alpha picks up the pace, pulling out almost all the way just to slam back in again with enough strenght to make the wooden headboard thump against the wall. It's not long before they're both drenched, skins sticky where they rub together, Alpha's grip bruising on Pebble's waist, each thrust wrangling desperate, half stiffled noises from them. A minute shift of the sheriff's stance, and Pebble has to bite his hand not to wail.

"That's the spot, uh ? Yeah, that's it, feels- mmh, good, doesn't it ?"

Alpha's voice is rough, strained, huffs and groans cutting his sentence, which is far too attractive for Pebble to handle. He doesn't answer, can't, really, especially with how obvious it is what he would say if he could. He can feel his orgasm creeping up on him, noises les and less controlled, body tensing up, when Alpha blindly reaches for his hand and guides it to his throat.

For half a second, Pebble just stays like this, blinking at the sight of his hand loosely wrapped around the sheriff's neck, until it all catches up to him and he squeezes.

Alpha makes the loveliest choked sound, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he leans even harder into the pressure of Pebble's hand, even as his face reddens and his eyes start watering.

Then the sheriff grabs Pebble's neglected cock, thumbing messily at the head, and Pebble's done for, nearly arching off the bed, vision flashing white as he blows his load with a silent shout. Very, very, distantly, he registers that Alpha's spilling mere seconds after him, loud groan echoing in the room.

Pebble would be embarrassed about the time it takes for him to come back to his senses, if Alpha wasn't in much the same state, panting by his side on the now soiled sheets. There's a few beats of blissful silence, before Pebble let out a disblieving huff.

"Holy fucking shit."

Alpha pushes himself up into a seating position, smirking in that infuriatingly smug way of his, looking far too pleased with himself. Naturally, Pebble flips him off. Naturaly, Alpha flops back down to bite at his hip bone. Hard. Bastard will probably leave a mark. But, well, Pebble barely has the energy to yelp and swat him away, so.

Thankfully, Alpha makes it his mission to find them washclothes and clean both of them with the same efficiency as usual, before changing the sheets, packing the dirty ones in order to take care of them himself. Pebble, now dressed again and relocated to a plush armchair in a corner of the room, watches Alpha mill about like he owns the place. Mind pleasantly sluggish, Pebble wonders how much time he spent at Delta's place, maybe after days helping at the ranch. Enough, at least, for him to look completely at ease there, or maybe it's just an Alpha thing, strutting around with unwavering confidence no matter the situation.

Pebble's musing is interrupted by the sheriff snapping his fingers in front of his face, having clearly made several attempts at catching his attention.

"C'mon, let's go."

Letting himself be pulled to his feet, Pebble glances around, the reality of their situation dawning on him as he limps after Alpha, cursing the flight of stairs they have to take down to get back outside.

"Delta's going to murder us."

With a dismissive shrug, Alpha waves his worries off.

"Nah. Long as he gets his sheets back pristine, it'll be fine."

"We fucked in his guest bedroom while he was away and I was supposed to be working," Pebble points out. They're at the foot of the stairs now, Alpha pausing to grin back at him.

"What, you think he a saint ? I assure you, he's done nastier stuff in riskier places."

Well, fair enough, and it's not like Pebble can take back what just happened. Not that he wants to, either. Sure, he's aching all over, and working like that is going to be a bitch, but man was it worth it.

Once out on the porch, they're both distracted enough, lighting a well-deserved post-coital smoke, that they nearly jump out of their own skin when someone clears their throat from behind them.

Wearing a grin nearly too big for his face, Delta reclines further into his rocking chair.

"Had fun ?"

The long, incriminating silence that stretches between them finally gets broken by the sudden, uncontrolable fit of laughter that shakes the three of them to the point of tears.

Pebble gets a glimpse at the hand-shaped bruise around Alpha's throat, stomach swooping.

Maybe he'll stick around a little longer.

[aylaaescar]

AU where they weren't able to bite it back bc I wanna see how that would've gone. how would Douchebag "Blake" McGee have recovered from that. we may never know.

[skitskatdacat63]

Agh man rip glass animals for me, I don't even have a desire to touch their newest album bcs I don't want it to ruin my opinion on them as a whole lmao. I will stick to the first two albums for the rest of time and pretend they arent making music anymore fhfjkg 😔

[numetaljackdog]

headphones grins

[robinsnest2111]

ah, the blood curse. no wonder I've been in hell the past 2 weeks

[junocore-artemis]

*pretends that the pain I give them is deserved*

[mystic-mae]

i need some motivation to do shit, so like... notes thingy i guess

100 notes - water consumption for the body. marching band season made me realize i dont drink enough fucking water out here. (alright, i guess i need water now... I WAS DRINKING TEA EARLIER. THATS CLOSE ENOUGH, RIGHT??)

200 notes - food consumption, i guess. i'll try to eat 3 full meals a day. enough to make my body full and stuff. (gods dammit. well, i already ate breakfast and lunch, and i have leftovers from lunch, so, i guess dinner's all set for me.)

300 notes - homework completion. i've been lacking in my homework game, and i definitely need to improve it this semester. (...i'll start my chem homework tomorrow since saturdays are my rest days, okay??? MOST OF MY WEEKEND HOMEWORK IS DONE BUT THANKS FOR CARING, CHAT)

400 notes - writing hobby. i need motivation to write lore for my dnd campaign (#runaway ruler dnd / #convict ruler dnd / #ruined ruler dnd universe if you want to follow along my shitposting for that) (i already started shitposting for runaway ruler again, so check it out. I WILL WRITE LORE FOR EACH ARC DONT WORRY IM JUST BARELY GETTING STARTED ON THE SECOND ARC SINCE ITS VERY LONG)

500 notes - animation gift. i'm making a little valentine's gift for my spouses, and it's gonna be 1:34 seconds long... I need motivation to actually animate lmao. (i'll do bits and pieces throughout the week. don't worry, i plan to figure this out [i haven't animated in months, and even then i barely scratched the animation surface])

1000 notes - script memorization. i uh... need to memorize my silly little script for a production coming up in a month. im performing in front of kids so like... the script's pretty short and easy. im the antagonist in my cast >:]. (sick, let's go. i love myself some memorization.)

2000 notes - chest binder shopping. i'll ask my parents if i can get a chest binder. ive been meaning to get one for myself for some time now. im getting desperate for one. (i suppose i'll ask today or tomorrow... or over the weekend- that's when most of the shopping happens, anyways.)

3000 notes - leaving the closet. i'll come out to the rest of my family that i'm trans, aromantic, all the nine yards about my lgbtq+ identities. i'll definitely have to schedule a good day to do that. (HELLO??? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?? OKAY FINE I'LL FIGURE OUT A DAY. I'LL COME BACK TO YOU WITH THAT-)

4000 notes - researching possible colleges across my state and outside my state. because i wanna get out of here.

5000 notes - order a suit. preferably black or purple. because i need more gender affirming clothes in the formal department.

EDIT: do however many notes you want. i know i said 10 notes per person earlier, but like... go wild i guess

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Simon picked your engagement ring himself. He went to the jeweller, saw the ring, and immediately thought of you. He loves it. He’s always kissing your left hand. He’s so in love with you, it aches. 

When the two of you finally get married, he never stops looking at his ring. It’s a plain thick silver band, but he loves it so much. He’s just so afraid he’ll lose it. 

Instead, he wears the ring on his dog tag chain and gets your initial tattooed on him. The day he comes home from deployment, at first, you don’t notice anything different but his facial hair. Then, when you ask him to get you a fork at dinner, you gasp, “What’s that?”

“What?” he raises a brow.

You grab his hand, pointing to the tattoo. “What? Where’s your ring? What’s this?”

“Here,” he tugs at the chain around his neck. “And ‘is is jus’ to show people ’m married.”

“It’s permanent!”

“Is our marriage no’ supposed to be?” 

“But-”

“Are ya tryin’ to leave me, lovie?”

“No…it’s just…permanent…”

“Good. You’re my Mrs. ‘hat’s permanent too.”

You giggle. “Fine. I’m getting one too.”

“Like ‘ell you are. ‘M not letting you ruin that perfect skin.”

“But-”

“Lovie,” he warns. “No means no. I know how much you love me and you hate needles.” 

“Okay…”

“You could spread your legs to prove it though.”

“SIMON!”

[boy-oneder]

These are the men that have taken over my entire life

oh Paul <3

[aeraminth]

fluff - mention of sex + marriage + pregnancy - 700 wc //

“good mornin’ sweetheart.”

caleb brushes hair out of your face, watching the sunlight’s rays shimmer on your cheekbones and decorate your lips with radiance. you slowly adjust to the morning sun, your eyes trailing to the clock on the nightstand. it’s set a few minutes early—something your husband can’t find out about, or else he’d be late every time he stops to kiss you before he leaves.

you’re a few minutes ahead of schedule, and caleb’s ready to savor all of it. he marvels at the adoration in your eyes, and the way they flutter shut when his hand reaches out to cup your cheek. he can’t tear his eyes away from how you lean into his touch, your bodies tangled under the blanket as you let him hold you without fear.

it makes his heart beat a little faster, and he feels his ribcage tighten with the sight of your loving gaze only for him. you reach out to fix some of the hair that threatens to obstruct his line of sight, and he can’t help but fall even deeper for you the more you dote on him. he sees the glint of your wedding band sparkle in the sun, and he wonders what you'll look like as a mother. in due time, caleb thinks.

“you should get up—big day ahead of you, colonel.” you like to use the nickname on him sometimes, and it’s his reminder that you trust him to protect you. and as your husband, he’s devoted to doing just that.

he murmurs under the early glow of the day, not wanting to ruin the gentle domesticity of his time with you. “keep sleeping, love. i’ll get ready.”

he knows that you won’t listen. he knows that you still slip out of bed, often with his shirt or a thin robe on, meeting him in the shared bathroom of your home to place a slow, meaningful kiss on his shoulder blade. he knows that you’ll sometimes tell him to lean down, taking the comb from his hands to fix the yanking and tousling to his hair from the night before. you pay the memory of intimacy no mind, but caleb’s cheeks dust pink and his mind strays to darker places when remembers the way your body responds to him, completely jelly in his strong arms.

you slip away to the kitchen, getting a glass of water and opening the blinds to welcoming the light into the living space. before he gets dressed, however, he makes sure to flip a stack of three golden pancakes, smeared with apple jam and oozing with honey. with a kiss on his cheek and compliment to his cooking from you, caleb retreats to your room, coming out minutes later with two things in his hand.

it’s ritualistic, how you grin at him with that utterly heart-wrenching smile of yours and take quiet steps in your slippers to reach for his tie. a loop here, and a couple tugs and tucks later, he’s all set, the fabric perfectly in place as you put on the pin from the fleet as a final touch.

“and your hat, colonel.” you say softly, reaching for it. he lets you run your fingers through his hair (as if he doesn’t already let you do anything else you want to him) and secure the cap, taking a step back to give him one last final look.

his gaze holds a softness only reserved for you, one that you can never resist as you lean up to kiss him before he leaves. you’re carefully not to mess up your hard work, so instead of pulling at the collar of his white button up like how you do when you undress him, your hands loop around his neck. you only pull away to push at his nose teasingly, smiling once again to tell him he needs to hurry. “can’t be late again because of me. you can only tell the fleet you were saving a cat so many times before they start to question things.”

with mirth in his laughter, he chuckles quietly—so so enamored and amazed and in love with you.

“come home early this time, yeah?” and your voice is hopeful, your cheeks warm with embarrassment from asking so much from him.

“always, sweetheart.” and caleb never breaks a promise.

[lord-radish]

There's this post I keep trying to write about listening to the mountain goats at work but it comes down to it being the only music I would feel comfortable being "caught" listening to. And that opens up a whole can of worms about where that comes from, which you wouldn't necessarily think - like usually it's like "ahaha I wouldn't be caught dead listening to this" - but it's most of my music taste and I managed to realise where it comes from.

My sister would put me down and belittle me for things like that. Like we used to play a lot of SingStar 80's, but there was one time - like legit the only time in years of us owning the game - where I went to sing "I Want to Know What Love Is" by Foreigner, and she teased me by saying "hahaha, [mallard] wants to know what love is!" and making me feel really embarrassed and shitty for just wanting to play that part of the game.

And that was how she approached pretty much anything that would make me look vulnerable. Like the reason I had never tried to play that song before is because it was something I thought she'd pick on me for, which she then eventually did. She mocked me for YouTube videos I watched sometimes, or for crying at a movie one time. She even managed to turn me saying that I was reading into some weird, gross jeer about how I said I was "breeding", like what the fuck right?

So if I'm at work by myself and I can put some music on, I put the Mountain Goats on because if someone walked in, I would feel less ashamed being caught listening to that than most of my music library. And I like the Mountain Goats, but I hate that I can't let go of that shame or insecurity because it's too much to deal with. That embarrassment is amplified by the thought of being judged as harshly as I have been for my interests and behaviours in the past.

[b3ach-bunn7]

READ YOUR MIND

You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.

fluff, college!au, confessions, one bed trope

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room. 

You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new. 

But for whatever reason, today it feels different. 

It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.

Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it. 

If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep. 

After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open. 

And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.

He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”

“Oh god, did I wake you?”

“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.

You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.” 

You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.

“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”

Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”

“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.

He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.

“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?” 

Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”

Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”

“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.

“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.

“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”

“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”

The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?

“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”

Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”

Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.

“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?” 

His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people. 

“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”

He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?” 

Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”

You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.

“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.

You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”

“Great. Can you write mine too?”

You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”

You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”

Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”

You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”

Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”

“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.

“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”

“We do?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“A whopper.”

You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.

When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.

“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”

You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“

You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.

“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.

“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.” 

“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.” 

He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.” 

Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”

Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?” 

“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.” 

“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases. 

You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”

The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.

“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.

“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”

You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.

“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you.  I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.

You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.

“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.

“Man up.”

He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”

You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.

When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.

“You want a formal invitation?”

You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.

“Night.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.”

You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already. 

You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back. 

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.

“Hi.” 

He smiles too. “Hi.”

“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”

Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.

“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.

“No. You just look so pretty right now.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.

“I- Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.

“Jason, what-”

“I can’t do this, I-”

You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.

“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.

You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home. 

“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”

“Okay.” You say slowly.

“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”

“How- How you feel?”

“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”

And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip. 

“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”

This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.

You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence. 

“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”

You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.

“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”

He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.

He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.

thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!

[paetalks]

megumi fushiguro is the kind of guy who gets set up on dates by his friends all the time, just for them to be unsuccessful. is not that he isn’t a good looking guy (and he knows that at this point), it's just his aura that comes off as off-putting. he hangs out with the girls, brings them to places like the arcade or random parks, and the date ends up being pretty boring. the girls usually look pretty bummed that he isn't really a taker, or in general that his vibe isn't overall welcoming and at the end of the day he never gets a call back. he actually isn't all that interested in 'finding love', he mostly says yes to his friends so that they will get off his back about it.

"just this time, fushiguro. it won't happen again." yuji itadori is saying, after asking him to go out with one of his girlfriend's friends. megumi isn't even looking at him, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. "yeah, sure."

he doesn't even mind all that much at this point, he knows already how its going to be. he's just going to have to sit through the night with a plain face, knowing that the person on the other side of the table is never going to want to speak to him again.

that's what he thinks until he meets you. he is blinded at first by your beautiful smile, that pops up as soon as he introduces himself. yuji and his girlfriend picked a place this time, sending you to a chinese restaurant that opened up somewhere downtown. he looks at you carefully, as if he his scared to ruin you by staring too much, while you order something to drink. you're all smiles and kindness he almost feels out of place.

it is silence at first, after a first shaky conversation about how the day is going or something like that. fushiguro almost blames himself for his dryness in answering, because you actually are a cute girl and he wouldn't mind striking a conversation, he just doesn't know how to. gladly, you do.

at first, it feels like an interrogation. you keep asking questions and he keeps answering briefly. then he starts saying stuff back and the conversation blooms. you guys talk about school, friends, food, bands you like to listen to. he is a good listener, you are a good talker. he makes you feel heard, always nodding to whatever you are saying and adding something here and there, and you make him feel seen, never looking away from his eyes while you speak.

at some point - mind you, he doesn't even know how or what he did say - he makes you laugh. the conversation was about the gyoza y'all were eating, it wasn't even all that interesting, but your laugh sweeps him almost off his feet. right there and then he swears its the best thing he has ever heard.

delicate yet full of emotions, your laugh fills the room. the sound is haunting even when it's over and other people in the restaurant look at you fondly while your face relaxes and your cheeks still hurt. he was staring at you the whole time, almost carving a hole in your face. "you have a beautiful laugh" he blurts out, while his face blushes like crazy and his mind yells why did you say it like that you weirdo.

you flutter your eyes a little bit, surprised by the heartfelt comment, but quickly thank him. "thank you, fushiguro. i kind of can't wait to hear yours." you wink at him playfully, but your answer made his heart sink. his ears get violently red while he quickly looks away, flustered.

he never actually got to this point with any girl before, and he feels weird, really. it's like he doesn't even know what to do, but at the same time he doesn't have to know. its easy, it's natural.

at the end of the night you give him your number, writing it on the back of his hand with a pen you asked the waiter for. you are not scared of anything, he thinks, while he walks you to the bus stop and watches you walk beside him. for the first time in his life, megumi fushiguro feels the need to have more. more of you, more of this. he feels like wanting it all.

back to his dorm, before going to sleep, itadori knocks on his door. "how did it go?" he asks, eyes lighting up in excitement. fushiguro doesn't say anything at first, but then, looking away from his friend, he sticks out his hand. blue ink shines on his palm, almost reflecting the dim light in his room, and yuji cheers out loud.

"I knew you could do it, fushiguro! I'm so proud of you!" and he pretends to wipe away a tear, meanwhile megumi thinks that actually he didn't even do much, he was just himself. and this time, it worked.