#arewedoneyet

[shubaka]

you are faster than any demon i‘ve ever summoned! 😱

😈

[mybodyfails]

boo! gimme treats!

i.. uh.. i can explain

[blogoriffic]

My grandson was looking pretty much done with everything when he was just a couple months old. Just wait, buddy. it only gets worse.

[laurenkmyers]

Happy Ending | แฮปปี้ เอนดิ้ง | Official Pilot

[colourme-feral]

@arewedoneyet posted the original images which were in Thai, but I happened to find the English translation for them!

This paradise… was built with 'love', nurtured with 'revenge', and harvested through 'retribution' from GDH's LinkedIn

Credit

[jeffsaturwaist]

🪐✨WINNER✨🪐

There you have it folks, the official winner of the first ever Jeff Waist Leaderboard is THE HEART CHOKER!!

A week and 150 Waists later, we have our champion! This was a CLOSE race, I saw so many people freaking out over it being 50/50 for a few hours 😭 Thank you all so much for your participation! This has been a lot of fun, and two people at Tumblr support are now aware of this, shout out to them. I hope they see this and stan Jeff :)

Let's give a round of applause for all our contenders! And in the process, enjoy some Waist 👀

gif from arewedoneyet

gif from pondsphuwin

Until next time Sats!

[lori0018]

Jeff Calendar 📆

A Monthly Jeff Calendar for 2025. Each picture is from the same month in '24. (Except December, which is from '23, for obvious reasons 😁 I might update it in a month or so.)

I hope you all enjoy ✨

@halliescomut put this idea in my head and it wouldn't let go so I did it 😅

A HUGE thank you to @arewedoneyet for so promptly and consistently posting all the Jeff pictures from other social media. Going through your blog archive month by month made this a lot easier and faster than it would have otherwise been.

[guzhufuren]

Hello! Who are your favourite people and creators on here? Could u please do a blog rec?

hi bun! i will divide my beloveds in groups so it's easier to browse them <3 not all of them follow me and i don't follow all of them but everyone here is still one of my favourite blogs so!!

gifmakers/editmakers: @spicyvampire @agendratum @smittenskitten @magicaldreamfox1 @forcebook @sugarbabywenkexing @liyazaki @bustinbustinbustin @bangzchan @jimmysea @chanstopher @shuyis

artists: @blackwatervial @mortimerlatrice

people: @jdotsodomite @supernovasimplicity @kissporsche @shadowetienne @rythyme @hyunpic @ahxu-laowen @blmpff @shen-zhen @ditch-lily @itsza @legendaryrooftopscene @yeetlegay @snake-and-mouse @sweet-william-writes @superbcandyangel @sapphicblight @chord-assasination @skz-maybe-incorrects @vegasandhishedgehog @arewedoneyet @just-slightly-chaotic @thiccstan @newyearknwwme @benkaaoi @lu-sn @a-slut-for-vegaspete @ophillya @misspoetree @dramarec @porschesbabydaddy @vegaseatsass and probably more people but i have the worst memory

[airgiodslv]

how about something inspired by the wing outfit? for @arewedoneyet

It's nearly sunset when the man in the military uniform comes down from the house.

You think later that he's been watching you for a while. Longer than a day, even. He stops beneath your tree and puts his hands on his hips, looking up at where you perch in the high branches.

"You're one of his," he says. "Sunshine's. I can tell."

"How?" you ask. You're curious about everything. Your voice is a hoarse croak you can't remember hearing before.

His smile is grim. "Because Sunshine likes to play god, but he isn’t one. Everything he creates comes back a little bit wrong."

You bristle and hunch your back, so your feathers puff up to make you look larger.

"Has he named you yet?" he asks. You don't reply, afraid of your own rough voice. He smiles again and says, "Then I'll call you Icarus."

There’s a boy sleeping under a tree near yours. You call down to him a few times, but he doesn’t wake. There are cuts on his hands and face. They’re the only parts of him that are still exposed. Flowers and vines have covered the rest of him.

You hope he’s only asleep.

You’ve been watching the distant house with interest. A truck came to make a delivery. There was a wooden box inside like a coffin.

The man in the uniform comes back after a few days. When he reaches the sleeping boy’s tree, you shout a warning.

He shakes his head and stands under your tree to look up at you again. “I’m not going to hurt him. He’s one of Rain’s, and I don’t have any quarrel with Rain. My fight is with Sunshine.”

“Why?” you rasp.

“I believe in science and progress. Sometimes that means experimentation, but not the way Sunshine does it. Sometimes it means war.”

He looks back at the house, or maybe at the barn, where the men in the truck took the coffin.

“I have to go. I have a shuttle to catch. Up there, to the stars.” He points toward the sky, then offers you a mocking salute. “I’ll see you when you learn to fly, Icarus.”

There’s another man at the house now. He’s warm and brown from the sun. He comes out sometimes to chop wood and ride down the dirt road. Dust rises up in clouds behind his horse, like the plumes of steam you saw on the horizon when the rocket launched.

He plants seeds for crops and new trees. He kneels by the sleeping boy’s tree to plant new flowers around him. The sleeping boy still hasn’t woken. You can barely see him now, hidden behind the blooms.

In the early morning, you’re woken from a doze by an impact that jars you all the way to your bones. The man stands at the trunk of your tree. He yanks his axe out of the wood and hefts it to swing again.

You scream at him, rough and panicked. He startles, gripping the axe in both hands and taking a step back. When he sees you restlessly shifting your weight and rustling the leaves, he relaxes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. My wife asked me to cut down this tree for firewood. She must not have known you were here.”

You’ve seen the curtains move upstairs in the house. You’ve felt eyes watching you, just as you watch the house.

You think she knew you were here.

There’s been a long drought, but clouds finally gather, rolling in from where you saw the rocket launch. The sky opens and rain pours down.

You shake out your feathers and hunch under the canopy to wait out the storm. It rains into the night, drenching you and the trees alike, all the way until dawn.

When the sun rises and the sky clears, the sleeping boy under the tree is gone.

A man with shining hair and bright, dark eyes dances through the moonlight to your tree. His movements are graceful one moment and disjointed the next, skipping and spinning between the trees until he faces you with a wide smile.

“Come down, come down,” he croons. His fingers curl slowly in the air, beckoning. “Have you learned to fly yet, little bird?”

It’s the first time you’ve left the tree. You descend, clumsily at first, gaining confidence by the time your feet touch the ground. You tuck your head to preen.

“Have you met him?” he asks. “Does he know everything you are?”

“He called me Icarus,” you say.

Sunshine laughs and reaches out for you with both hands. He cups your face to gaze at you. His lips are cool when he tastes you. His tongue curls the way his fingers had, teasing.

“We’ll see about that,” he sings. “We’ll see who falls from the sky: his planes and shuttles and war machines, or you. We’ll see who flies.”

The men come again with the truck. They take away the man who plants seeds. He fights them, but not well. He moves like you do, like Sunshine had, tentative and newborn.

There are no more new trees, no more flowers. The house is very quiet.

“Why?” you growl when the man in the uniform finally returns. You have too many questions to fit them into more than that one word.

He gazes up at you for a long time before answering. “Because the experiment was over. Because two of you in one place are dangerous. Because it was time.”

There’s a glass with brown liquid in the man’s hand. He takes a long drink. You don’t think it was his first one.

“Because Sunshine made you for a reason,” he says finally. “And I believe it was to destroy me.”

[agapintheskin]

@arewedoneyet go get your fave.

[just-slightly-chayotic]

Because @arewedoneyet asked for it, here's a link to my folder of photos of Jeff being silly:

[shubaka]

yeah, THIS time. usually you are right in the middle of it. may i just remind you of wujuraon monsterfucking breeding kink or the kimchay drunken knife-bloodplay incident?

you are just as bad as the cookies, so into the cookie tin with you!

[mybodyfails]

for the ask game: what’s a skz merch item you wish they offered?

toothpaste.

[risu442]

Thanks @markmybirds to tagging me in this!

I tag: @arewedoneyet @ominous-meme @mousydentist @salamander89 @sherlockholmeson @alwaysandforeverlost @vegasandhishedgehog @ner-vod and everyone who sees this and wants to play! Just @ and go on! 🥰

[scattered-stardust]

At least the ruckus pulls Arm out of his conversation and back to his side. “Is there a problem,” he says in a tone that promises there better not be a problem, as he puts his hand on the small of Porsche’s back. Which is fine and Porsche can deal with that like he’s not a guy with a crush on the gorgeous man next to him so obviously he blushes. Or, Porsche has a crush on his three roommates and is totally chill about it. As long as people stop assuming he's dating them, his poor heart can't take this. Or, Six times people assume Porsche is dating Pete, Pol and Arm and one time he does something about it.

Dedicating this fic to all my mutuals who made this fandom and tumblr in general a fantastic place to be in: @callmeahopelesscase @just-slightly-chayotic @risu442 @shubaka @salamander89 @xxatlasxx @the-cookie-of-doom @omegaphobe @wardog-of-the-endless @kimchaybrainrot @vani-ash @eggwars @fuckyeah-itme @dummerjan @divorcedmalewife @arewedoneyet @i-got-the-feels @hometothecanyonmoon I appreciate all of you so much<3<3<3

[snickerdoodlles]

Trick or treat!! <333

(sorry if i already swung by with a tot request. i honestly can't remember 🥲)

no such thing as not enough tricking or treating!! here's more of this one! so also tagging @arewedoneyet because i didn't mean to give u such a short snippet, i was just really busy and very tired yesterday > <;;

Chay swings their hands again, squeezing gently. “Guilt aside, I am grateful.” Chay’s cheeks darken as his eyes swing between Kim and their surroundings and back again shyly. “I like spending time with you.”

Kim’s own face feels hot as he forcibly swallows back his instinctive responses of spend all time with me and stay with me forever and I’d go everywhere with you. It’s getting harder to hold himself back these days. Especially at times like this, when Chay looks at him so fondly and Kim feels like he’s ready to burst. 

They round the final corner and there the bus stop stands, as mundane as everyday and Kim’s most hated foe. His spite spikes when Chay perks up at the sight of it as well, and Kim slows down until he’s an anchor dragging down Chay, stealing precious more seconds and hiding his theft with pouts and other dramatics. 

Chay laughs. The sky has filled with dark grey crowds since they began their walk, the dregs of sunshine pushing through turning everything color rich, and Chay glows with it. Kim hungers. 

The first drop of rain is a surprise and a shock. Between one startled blink and the next, the last rays of sunshine are swallowed up and the clouds break. Kim hisses and Chay gasps at the rapidly increasingly downpour and Kim ushers Chay under the bus stop’s overhead. The rain is thunderous against the thin tin roof, and Kim has to press close to Chay to hear him.

“Kim!” Chay protests anyways, “I’m all wet!”

“I know,” Kim says unhappily. He loops his arm around Chay’s waist and pulls until Chay’s pressed entirely down his side. Chay’s clothes gently steam everywhere they touch. Chay’s hand presses against his chest, not strong enough to push them apart but about to if his worried frown is any indicator. 

Kim pulls his hand away and tightens his hold with an eye-roll. “I’m fine Chay, I’m not a candle.”

Chay’s worry doesn’t budge, but he doesn’t try to pull away either. “I just don’t like leaving you out in this,” he says with a frown.

“I could still come with you,” Kim tries again. Not that he really wants Chay doing anything less than playing hooky today, tomorrow, and every day, but Kim’s trying to be better about that sort of thing. 

Chay smacks Kim’s chest with a half-laugh, half-huff and starts digging through his bag. “Don’t be silly, then you’ll be stuck waiting for me all day!” Kim will still be doing that, just further away, but he’s struggles to explain that before Chay lets out a triumphant ah-hah! and holds out an umbrella. 

Kim frowns and doesn’t take it. “You’re staying out all day.”

Chay rolls his eyes and pushes it into Kim’s hand. “Why do I care about rain? I brought it for you.”

All of Kim’s schemes to steal more minutes from Chay dissipate like steam. 

“For me?”

Chay snorts and forces Kim to take the umbrella. “Yes, you dork, of course I did.”

Of course, he says. Kim looks out at the misty downpour and tries not to shake as the words rattle through him. Of course he did. 

Kim’s second personal nemesis appears through the gloom, but the bus’s arrival is softened by Chay giving him a smile and a squeeze goodbye before he boards. Kim watches him leave silently and unblinkingly, continues staring out into the rain long after the bus’s tail-lights have faded into the mist. 

When Kim finally steps back out into the rain, this time safely sequestered under Chay’s umbrella, the drop of sound from the thunderous barrage on tin to the gentle patter on cloth draws Kim up short again. It’s incredible just how much larger every little thing feels on this small scale. Kim’s so full of wants and feelings he’s shocked he can keep it all inside. Perhaps that’s why he can’t swallow back the lump in his throat, maybe he’s finally reached his max capacity. 

Kim swallows back what he can and holds his hand out to catch the rain. His skin hisses and crackles and steams, but Kim doesn’t waver. He waits until his hand is fully blackened and cooled to bring it back and press it against his chest to feel the heart within pound against his ribs. 

Already, his skin is beginning to pink. It won’t be long before his hand is once again too hot not to risk further scorching the precious thing. But if there’s one thing Kim’s learned on earth, it’s how to appreciate the seconds.