#crushing on a friend

[mywordsfortheuniverse]

Being near you makes me feel at peace and safe. All the while my skin tingles with an unsatisfiable hunger to touch yours.

[robyn-i-guess]

liking someone platonically is so embarrassing like. yeah i admire you. yeah i think about you all the time. yeah i look forward to every time i see you even if it's only for a minute. yeah it's all platonic and yeah i couldn't explain this because it'd sound romantic. fucking hell

[smoov-criminal]

we need to stop equating lack of independence with lack of maturity. people that live with their parents or have a caregiver or don't work or need more support than others aren't inherently immature. there's lots of reasons why people would be in this situation, even outside of disability (plenty of cultures out there expect people to live with their parents past what we consider the beginning of adulthood), and regardless of the reason we deserve support and community through what is already likely to be an isolating experience. don't make it worse for us

[seagiri]

very sleep deprived doodles of whatever’s going on inside my brain

[chloesimaginationthings]

Everyone “hates” Mike in the FNAF movie..

[confusedhomicidalrage]

"oh, you act so romantic with your friends-" SHUT UP! I CAN ACT ALL MUSHY AND SWEET WITH MY FRIENDS, WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT!? COWARD! YOU DON'T SHOWER YOUR FRIENDS IN AFFECTION AND LOVE!? YOU'RE WEAK! WEAK AND PATHETIC!

[ohposhers]

SHES THEIR #1 FAN DUDE ARE YOU KIDDING ME !!! shadow's literal wingman fr fr fr

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[miothle]

Tomo (and Tama!) for tmzh valentine exchange💝

[beebfreeb]

Wait I just found drawings of Resetti I did like, last year, and never posted because I got horribly sick for 2 weeks.

[mywordsfortheuniverse]

I think the hardest part about this is resisting the urge to hug you every time you walk into the room.

[lettuceonthecourt]

Just an idea but-

Imagine a yandere best friend x you x yandere crush

Like... Yandere best friend who knows that you like yandere crush-- after all, best friends tell each other everything right

Perhaps you can't see it, but yandere best friend knowsss that yandere crush likes you back. He has literally been stalking you even before you started liking him, and he's not discreet at all

Yandere best friend who, without your knowledge, takes pictures of you when you sleep, your mouth slightly open, your chest gently moving up and down, and you just look so cute that your best friend just can't help themselves. (they will definitely be getting off to that later)

Out of spite, yandere best friend would even send yandere crush that photo on 1 time view, making him know that he would never get to see this soft, intimate side of you. Yandere crush who gets sooo mad when he sees the photo, but his heart lurches with the desire to be in your best friends place

But yandere crush isn't losing to yandere best friend either, and takes advantage of the fact that you have romantic feelings for him (unlike someone else~)

When he has the chance to, yandere crush will hold as much eye contact with you as possible (he can feel his cheeks get hot and his breathing starts to stutter, ahh how are you so divine-), and he tries to brush his hand against yours, revelling in the fact that you would blush so slightly and giggle. When he does so, he would glare at your best friend dead in the eyes, so smug about that fact that they would never be able to have that effect on you (oh that asshole, they would have his head one day, with his blood on their hands, and maybe they would dig out his heart just for sweet lil you as a gift)

Okay yea basically just like

Yandere best friend who knows that he will never get to spend romantic moments with you, though they get to stick to your side every other moment, and

Yandere crush who knows you do like him back, but will never be able to get intimate with you because he knows that yandere best friend would never let him get close

[positively-bi]

Inspired by the brief period of time I thought I was polyamorous because I felt the same way about my boyfriend as I did my best friends and I hadn't clocked yet that all of those feelings were platonic

[blakbonnet]

as an indian person, my favourite thing is seeing what people who aren't from here have done with my food; i'll go to an indian restaurant in a random corner of the world and they're putting oregano in their palak paneer or a balsamic wash on their naan and it's like "yes good tell me how you folded your culture into mine and came out with something new and lovely, we're holding hands across oceans bestie"

[gleafer]

Have some more CHAOS BEEZ and Angel Crowley!

Psst! I only need 12 more followers to hit 15,000 and I’m kinda over the moon that so many people enjoy my brand of nonsense!

Thank you for the follow!

ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?? - Russell Crowe, probably

[kirbstarzz]

Oh Allan Red ohh.... allan.. + me