#hey guys I made this post. it's not that funny

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

—synopsis. mandy invites you to hangout with some of her friends. christmas vlog vid

notes 🫧: guys i need hamzah bad

— 🐞

you sighed with content as you finally landed on an outfit you liked. it was a plain long sleeve with a pair of loose dark wash jeans, you weren’t sure what everyone else would be wearing so you picked something simple.

your phone buzzed, mandy asking if you were on your way to her house. you sent her a voice message as you threw on your coat and grabbed your keys along with your purse and phone.

mandy had invited you over to hang out with her, martin, and hamzah and his friends, who you knew from 4freakshow.

you'd never met chase and claire before, but you've hung out with martin and hamzah a few times with mandy.

you met her when she was in nursing school, becoming friends after a few awkward encounters. she introduced you to martin and after a while you met hamzah, in person at least, since the two of you already followed each other.

you parked your car outside their house and adjusted your lip gloss in the rearview. you were a little nervous for some reason. maybe it was the fact that you were late, maybe it was the new people you were meeting, or maybe it was the vlog.

you have your own youtube channel but being apart of other people's videos always made you feel a little awkward.

you texted mandy that you arrived and headed for the front door, martin opening it before you could knock.

"someone's a little late" martin joked as he let you inside. "oh my god i forgot you guys went bald. that was a freaking jumpscare." you teased.

mandy came up to give you a hug "i know, they look insane. i did not approve." she said  before you were introduced to chase and claire. chase walked up with the camera, focused on you. "hi youtube" you stuck out your tongue.

"now that y/n is finally here, the trio outfit is complete." claire handed you a set of pajamas, matching the ones her and mandy had on. you grinned and complimented the set before hamzah came out from the back hallway.

"oh hey, didn't know you got here already" he dapped you up. "boi yes you did, literally went to the bathroom to fix his hair" claire teased. "oh wait..." chase joined in, making you laugh.

"i don't know why he's got this freaking tuque on anyways. embrace the bald dude, embrace the skin." martin pulled his beanie down and rubbed hamzah's bald head, urging hamzah to push him away.

"yo! he just fucking sniffed me" hamzah laughed, grabbing his beanie from his hand. "we're just cucking the viewers i guess" martin said, leaving everyone just staring at him awkwardly.

"yeah anyways, y/n you could go change in my room" mandy told you. "heh, just be careful what you find in there" martin leaned into a shrug. "dude stop" hamzah flicked his hand over martin's head.

once you were changed, chase made you do a twirl for the camera and you posed before tripping out.

"so how come y/n gets a pajama set, but you said no to me?" martin asked mandy. "cause she's one of the girls and you're not a girl"

"plus nobody told you to wear them freak ass leggings boi" hamzah teased him and you laughed. he looked over at you, taking in the fact that he made you laugh.

hamzah always thought you were really pretty and cool, even back when you first followed each other during the 4freakshow days. you didn't even have a youtube channel back then, only posting random tiktoks he thought were funny.

"alright y'all let's get to baking, i'm hungry" chase said behind the camera before flipping it towards him.

you stood next to hamzah as claire pulled up the recipe on her tiktok and her, mandy, and chase got started on measuring things out.

“you can’t just do it willy nilly style brah, measure it” you told martin as he began pouring sugar into the mix. “sometimes you have to live life on the edge, y/n” martin scoffed.

as you continued baking the cookies, you realized how glad you were that you decided to come. martin and hamzah were always a hoot but you really liked claire and chase too.

“noo it was my legs and he said ‘you’re scratching your ass’” claire defended herself from chase and hamzah’s teasing. “girl no i was right behind you”

“we’re having booty cookies” “we got fucking booty flavor” you and hamzah joked at the same time, causing you to crack up and slap his arm.

you took your hand off, not expecting his bicep to be so strong. he nudged you with his elbow, still laughing.

“so, are you actually gonna help bake, y/n?” chase playfully raised his eyebrow. “right, standing here doing nothing” hamzah added. “oh bitch says you, who’s actually done nothing. mr. nonchalant baldhead.” you joked, grabbing the camera from chase and putting it in hamzah’s face.

“boi get outta here boi” he laughed.

while the cookies baked, you guys moved on to putting up the christmas tree. you sat down with chase and claire and began unfolding the branches of the tree. hamzah followed suit, taking a seat on the floor next to you.

rudy walked up to hamzah, who grabbed him with one hand under his belly and placed him in his lap. “awww rudy, who’s a cutie cootie coo. ah poochy poochy poo” you reached over hamzah’s leg to pet the dog.

you scratched behind his ear, unknowing of hamzah staring at you while you did it. “alright let’s put in some freaking work guys” claire said and hamzah lifted rudy into the couch behind him.

“why do you literally manhandle everything that comes your way?” you teased. “like in the video where you’re flinging around fish” hamzah just chuckled in response.

“wait chase, i like your leggings” claire said from behind the camera. “what these aren’t leggings?”

“i’m just saying i’ve never seen a boy wear leggings, it’s a compliment”

“they’re not leggings, they’re thermals! they’re long johns..long johns?” martin retorted, displaying his leg out in front of the other. “you’re wearing fucking leggings”

you and hamzah stifled your laughs in the corner as they continued and martin teared up, walking off with the camera as a bit. “claire you actually made him cry” you giggled.

you felt hamzah lean himself closer to you, taking advantage of the laughing fit everyone was in.

after a while, the cookies were done as you finished decorating the tree, adding a little christmas bunny along with everyone else’s personalized ornaments.

you turned around to hamzah manspreading on the couch, trying to ignore your thoughts about how sexy it was and followed everyone else into the kitchen.

you all iced the cookies before doing a taste test, “boi crumbl cookie could neverrrr” you joked, as the cookies actually turned out bad. “this shit is way too sweet oh my god” hamzah said, spitting his into the trash. “ew dude have some manners” martin scolded him.

once mandy ended the vlog, you all lounged around her living room until you got a emergency text from your roommate.

“bruh, my roommate messed up something with our dryer. i have to go” you frowned. “awww noooo” chase frowned with you. “it was really nice meeting you” he said. “yeah, you’re funny as fuck” claire added. “oh i love you” you hugged her before getting your coat off the rack.

“im so glad you actually came” mandy said. “well thanks for inviting me” you playfully stuck out your tongue. “i’ll see you next time we hang out in like four to six weeks” you said, sarcastically. “ugh tell me about it” she smiled as you dapped martin.

hamzah came out from the bathroom, “you’re leaving?” he asked. “yeah my roommate needs help” you pressed your lips together. “oh…..it was cool seeing you though” he dapped you up, pulling you into a small hug. “you too” you smiled, holding his hand a little longer before your phone buzzed again.

“anyways merry christmas and happy holidays everyone! byeeeee” you closed the door behind you and head for your car.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantastic and others

lvryn mini dump 💩

user omg is she the reason hamzah was acting so mysterious this video

user yall saw the way they were so close to each other this video

user love your whole life 😍

— 🐞

[boreal-sea]

okay sorry you don’t like the word Zionist I’ll come up with a new word and it’s weirdassbitch btw and guess whatZzz ummm yeah you fit the bill. I don’t know man 😭😭😭😭 the fact you’re only posting about gofundmes when it’s about Israeli hostages or only ever being like “okay yeah what’s happening to Palestinians is bad” in conjunction with “so about this anti semitism we’ve been having…” means you’re obviously biased you’re just biased and hey… hey holds your hand it’s okay ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ We can work through this… together *looks away shyly* also I’m like Jewish like by blood. I didn’t even have to convert sorry I’m laughing converts you’re valid but boreal I guess I’m just like…. Better than you at being Jewish? Idk btw and hey maybe the reason why antisemitism is rising is because you guys are all like yeah so we deserve Israel because we lived there 1000000 years ago and if you hate Israel you’re anti Jewish soooo yeah…. Yep maybe having being Jewish synonymous with a genocidal state isn’t smart idk just my thoughts. I think having Jews live all across the world is so beautiful it brings a tear to my eye… I think shoving us all in one place is gay as hell to be frank. Whwtagevrr. I was born in USA born and raised and my family came from Ukraine. I have zero claim to a plot of land 6000 miles away just because I wanna have a sick ass vacation home. maybe that’s why you converted I’m just joshing around it would be funny though if you went through all that just to build a cute little Resort on stolen land. I don’t know boreal. I think I’d just rather have my BLEGH :P, not a :•]

I have not posted a single gofundme for Israeli victims. I’m not sure why you’d make up that lie? Please feel free to look back in my blog as far as you’d like, you won’t find one. It’s even in my blog description that I do not reblog gofundme posts.

I do post links to organizations that directly help Palestinians in Gaza. I have done so fairly often. I don’t recall ever posting a link to aid organizations that only benefit Israelis.

Do I often talk about antisemitism and Gaza at the same time? Yes. These two things are inextricably linked. What is happening in Gaza right now wouldn’t be happening without antisemitism.

Am I biased? No more than the average human being on Earth. I personally consider the folks screaming “Death to Israel!” to be a lot more biased than myself, as I am simply calling for peace between Israel and Hamas. I wanted a peaceful solution from the beginning. You can even find posts on my blog right after Oct 7th where I compare Israel to the USA after 9/11 and state my fears that Israel will have a disproportionate reaction. I loathe the political posturing of both Netanyahu and Hamas and I hate that they both dragged this out so long. Netanyahu wanted this to look like Trump’s victory, which disgusts me. And Hamas allowed their people to suffer for over a year! They’re disgusting, too. Every leader involved in this conflict failed their people.

Our personal feelings about whether or not native people like the Jews “deserve” to live in their homeland is irrelevant — Israel as a country exists here and now. Though it does bring up the interesting question: do you think if the USA just waits long enough, native Americans will also lose their landback rights? How long will that take?

Jews don’t really live “all over the world”. Nearly half live in the USA, and the other half in Israel. This is because all the other countries were so violently antisemitic to the Jews living there the Jews had to flee. In fact, after Israel was founded, a lot of countries literally forced their Jews out under threat of death.

Jews still suffer from antisemitism all around the world, and did so even before Oct 7th. The increase in antisemitism since Oct 7th hasn’t exactly made diaspora Jews feel safe. “A country you’re not even a citizen of did a bad thing, so now I’m going to firebomb your elementary school” isn’t fertile ground for cooperation, is it?

I don’t agree with everything Israel has done. I don’t have to. I think it is a country in crisis that needs major reforms, much like the USA. But I don’t scream “death to America!” either. I live here. I want to make it a better place. I want them both to be better, to live up to the ideals they espouse. To be free, and safe, and prosperous.

I want Gazans to be able to go home. I want them free from the cruelty of Hamas, which has allowed its people to die and suffer since it took power in 2005 and refused to hold any more free elections. They are tyrants. I want Palestinians in the diaspora to come home, too. I want them to have a safe, prosperous country where their culture and children can flourish!

I want peace. If that makes me a “weirdassbitch”, then so be it. I’ve been weird my whole life, anon!

[tangerineastronaut]

Hi! I saw you take requests.

May I request something with GOT7 Jackson Wang and best friend!reader, in which the reader starts developing feelings for him and start thinking he’s the one for her? <3

Friends, Just for Now | Jackson Wang

Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 6.6k (oops) Warnings: Cheating (not between jackson and reader), lots of profanity, nicknames, namecalling, minor injury, reader wouldn't know love if it smacked her in the head, holy shit they're kind of annoying af A/N: this was so fun to write, love me a good idiots friends to lovers. I'm also cheesy af, feel free to call me out. Please excuse any errors there may be, I usually proofread after posting. ❣️The love I received on my yunho imagine has literally made me do happy dances, I haven't posted anything on tumblr in 8 years and you guys are just literally the best. I love you all so much! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

🎧 FRI(END)S by V

“Come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen. You never listen.”

Two things went through your mind, though you refused to lift your head from where it was tucked against your knees. 

One, you hated that nickname. Pie. He thought it was so cute, and it probably would’ve died off had you not reacted to it the way you did. One missed smear of cherry on your nose 3 years ago and suddenly you’ve been christened. It was his favorite story to tell. 

And two, Jackson Wang was going to get his shit rocked if he didn’t leave you alone. 

“Fuck off,” you say bitterly, pulling further into yourself.

He was right. He had warned you.

You’d hoped Leejin was different, that the rumors were just exaggerated. Surely he didn’t cheat on every girlfriend…right?

“Wrong,” Jackson had laughed. “He’s a fucking dog, y/n.”

You’d rolled your eyes, and then Jackson said three words to you that had kind of hurt. Not kind of. A lot. They’d hurt a lot. 

“You’re not special.”

Leejin was so nice, he was smart and funny and headed for a successful career with his family’s business (so what if his parents probably paid off the school to make sure those student conduct violations never stuck). You wanted to be special. Spent 4 months trying to be. It wasn't an eternity, but you tended to put your whole heart into everything, and it almost always ended up like this.

But Jackson’s words rang true, painfully so, when you received a text from an unknown number earlier today—screenshots of messages between Leejin and some girl, including explicit photos. The unnamed person had said nothing else; you wondered if it was the girl from the screenshots, but you didn’t reply. You simply texted Leejin to go fuck himself before blocking him on everything, running straight home to your apartment, praying that Jackson wasn’t there. He was, of course, as you split the rent. You hated the look on his face when you barged in, nose red and snotty from crying.

It wasn’t smug, it was just…"come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen." 

You heard him sigh now, no doubt running a hand through his hair. It was blonde; you’d made fun of him at the time he'd dyed it though begrudgingly had to admit it suited him. But he was going to be bald before he was 40 if he didn’t stop tugging at it when he was stressed.

“Hey. Hey, stop. I hate it when you cry, you know, makes my joints hurt or something,” he says, kneeling beside you.

The fuck…? What does that even—

But you were too upset to stop, so he muttered under his breath, poking at your head until you whipped it up to slap him away. He looked like such a boy, hugging his knees and giving you a pleading look. Fine. Bastard.

You sighed and uncurled yourself, your knees screaming from the pain of turning into a human rollie pollie for the last half hour. Jackson sighed as well, no doubt relieved that you weren’t ugly crying anymore. 

He waited until your sniffles were a few minutes apart before moving, sitting criss cross on the floor. His brown eyes were soft, a rarity, truly, though you knew he was already formulating ways to tease you about this when it was more irritating than painful. 

“Done?” he asks, more to comfort himself than you. You sniff and nod, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Well, his sleeve. He made a face, realizing that you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, but made the apparent decision to yell at you later. 

“Don’t be mean to me,” you mumble, resting your cheek on your knee. 

“When am I ever?”

“Jackson, I swear to fucking—”

“I didn’t say anything, pie.”

“If you don’t drop that god damned nickname, it was one time, one little bit of cherry filling, I don’t even like cherry pie, you’re so fucking annoying—”

It was his turn to interrupt, but he didn’t. He just watched you, an irritating twinkle of amusement in his eyes. You scoffed and tucked your face away again, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that. Or at all, really. If there was one thing you’d learned after being friends with him for so long…the asshat had some eyes on him. Had this way of using his gaze to set the mood, able to stop your arguments or rile you up with micro expressions like an olympic gold medalist of manipulation. 

“Want some ramen?” he asks, tilting his head as though speaking to a kicked dog. You crinkle your nose without looking at him. “Want some cake? Some candy?”

“I want you to leave me alone,” you grumble. 

“Want a bath?”

You sigh, refusing to humor him with an answer he already had. He snapped his fingers like he’d just solved the equation of the century, having the audacity to ruffle your hair as he stepped over you unnecessarily to get to the door. You could hear him down the hall, the sound of the bathroom cabinets opening and closing, the water running, hopefully set on hot like you liked. 

“You're out of bath bombs,” he called. You frown. 

“I’m not, they’re under the sink.”

“Why’d you move them? Next to your menstrual equipment, eww.”

That’s why. You felt sorry for whatever unfortunate woman Jackson decided to wife up—the man was addicted to hot baths and cotton candy bath bombs. You’d have to move them again though, now that he knew about your stash. Besides, you’d sent him to the shop more than a few times when you were cramping and out of pads (and chocolate); he would not be impeded by them.

Jackson was waiting for you by the time you dragged yourself to the small shared bathroom. He bowed dramatically, gesturing toward the tub which was steaming hot, as you liked—a meal’s gotta cook. 

You mumble a thank you as he walks past, though he pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowed.

“Get naked, and give me my damn sweatshirt,” he says, pointing accusingly at you. You pout, immediately clutching your pearls.

“Is that why you never get laid? Jesus, would’ve thought you were smoother than that,” you huff. He impatiently tugs at your sleeve, rolling his eyes in that sassy way that always made you giggle and made him more irritated—a win win scenario. 

“It’s a $30 shirt, not a snot rag…pie.”

“You’re a snot rag,” you mumble. You turn your back to him, crossing your arms at the hem and tugging it over your head. You were still in a bra thankfully, though still covered your chest as you tossed the material at him. 

Jackson caught it smoothly, though he wasn’t even looking at the sweatshirt. You didn’t realize he was looking at you until you reached for the button of your jeans. His eyes weren’t lower than your lips, but he looked a little…off. You expected a joke about a food baby or maybe how pale you’ve gotten, but he says nothing. 

“Hello?” you say, shaking your head. “Is that all? Want my pants too? Gonna do my laundry for a change?”

Jackson blinks like his brain finally returned to his skull. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head and backing out of the doorway. Before he closed the door, however, his eyes leveled with yours, so intense it made your breath catch in your throat. Was he mad? Over a sweatshirt?

“Leejin is a fucking idiot,” he says before turning on his heel and heading down the hall. 

You stare at the spot where he stood, even after he’s gone. The hell was his problem now?

By the time you’ve finished your glorious bath, you waltz into the living room like a princess. Jackson looks up from his place on the sofa, deadpanning and tossing his phone on the coffee table as he takes in the freshly purloined hoodie you're sporting.

“Gonna lock my closet,” he says, shaking his head. You beam at him, cutely crinkling your nose as you pad to the kitchen. You tug open the fridge, thinking maybe you could cook something simple for the two of you. It was kind of late to make anything grand, but you wanted more than ramen. 

The empty shelves make your eye twitch. 

“Seriously?” you huff, gesturing around. “Would it kill you to get groceries once?”

“You always complain when I do,” Jackson shrugs, flicking through netflix with the remote. “Got the wrong brand, got too many, didn’t get enough—”

“I always text you a detailed list, but whatever,” you grumble, low enough that it doesn’t provoke a response. “Since you’re a big man baby incapable of buying groceries, you can buy us something at the convenience store.”

“I am perfectly capable, thank you,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. 

“Of what? Weaponized incompetence? I agree, get dressed,” you hum. 

Ten minutes later, you’re walking side by side down to the convenience store. The apartment’s location was perfect—five minutes from campus one way, five to a 24 hour convenience store another. Perfect because you both had a habit of wanting to come home when you were drunk after a party, starved and craving foods that you’d regret the next day. 

The doors chimed a welcome as they slid open, allowing you inside. You made a beeline for the sweets, Jackson went straight for the energy drinks. 

You perused the aisle for a few minutes, making your choice and going to find your roommate. You rounded the corner and froze. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to block someone in real life. So while you’d never see Leejin’s social media posts, it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t run into him on a saturday night at the convenience store near your apartment. 

You feel a mix of emotions—anger, shame, disbelief among them. You knew it wasn’t impossible, it wasn’t even unlikely, as this store was one of only a few. But it felt so damn unfair that he’d happen to be here, hours after you found out about what he’d done. 

“Is that all you’re getting?” Jackson snorts, frowning as he eyes your bag of chips. But he notices your stillness, following your gaze to see Leejin, casually chatting on the phone as he looks at the protein bars.

You expect him to snort, maybe make a comment just loud enough for the other to hear before pulling you away, but Jackson surges forward so quickly he nearly knocks you over. You grab his arm, both to steady him and stop him from…whatever the hell he’s doing. 

“Where are you going?” you whisper, tugging him back with as much strength as you could muster. 

“He broke your heart and I’m gonna break his fucking face.”

He moves again, this time dragging you along on the linoleum floor. Fortunately, Leejin is too preoccupied with his call to notice. The thought makes your stomach twist, briefly wondering who he’s talking to. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out, what’s the matter with you?” you hiss, trying to shake sense into him. Jackson yanks his arm away from you, dropping the energy drinks on the nearest shelf before storming off. You stare after him, mouth agape in disbelief. 

You arrive home 15 minutes later, having hid near the bathrooms until Leejin had left. You’d bought (and paid for, irritatingly) your snacks and Jackson’s drinks, but when you shove into the apartment, it’s empty. Lights off, no sign of him. You worry for a few seconds—had he waited for you and bumped into Leejin instead? But you surely would’ve heard something outside. You opt to text him and choose to believe he’s being broody and walking through the streets like a sad music video.

> what the fuck? is your deal? Where are you??

You’re confused and groggy when someone taps at your cheek, not realizing you’d even fallen asleep on the couch. You rub at your eyes, squinting, processing the sight of Jackson standing over you, t-shirt stuck to his form, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. 

You’ve had weird dreams about him before, ones that you’d rather never speak of again, and they usually start out like this. But this Jackson rolls his eyes in a way that sweet, sweet dream Jackson would never. 

“Get up, jesus. Your back is going to hurt,” he says. You slowly sit up, realizing he’s right. Apparently not only had you fallen asleep on the couch,  but you’d fallen asleep sitting up, sleeping in an unnatural slouched position. 

“Ow…”

“Told you.”

“No it’s…hey,” you snap, waking up a bit more now that you  remember that you’re actually pissed at him. “It’s your fucking fault, what happened to you? You just disappeared! I was worried!” 

You’re surprised to see Jackson bristle. He’s not shaken easily, least of all by you, but he glances to the side and tugs at his t-shirt, separating it from his damp skin. 

“Went to the gym. Figured I should cool off,” he says. You want to be pissed at him more, say something else, but your back hurts and you’re sleepy. Plus, you’re glad to see he’s alright. Mostly.

“Whatever,” you finally grumble, trying to stretch out your neck. “What time is it?”

“Dunno, around 2 a.m.,” he replies casually. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Great,” you huff. “You go shower. I’ll go roll over and die happy now that I know you’re alive.”

You stumble down the hall to your room, sighing at the sight of your unmade bed. What was the point if you were going to mess it up anyway? You hear Jackson follow shortly after, the bathroom door opening and closing. The shower starts, and you shuffle beneath the covers. 

You wake up not long after, whining in protest as you’re jostled. 

“It’s me,” Jackson says, rudely pushing you over. “Scoot.”

You wanted to shove him away, to point out that “scoot” should be said before you rob someone of their bed, but you can’t be bothered. Besides, once he settles next to you, you realize that he’s not wearing a shirt and he smells nice and clean. 

Sleepy, groggy, annoyed, relieved, you curl against him like a bunny seeking warmth. You feel him stiffen, though you think little of it. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, not sounding the least bit tired. You couldn’t say the same for yourself, unable to open your eyes as you reply. 

“Mm. ‘s warm down here. Night night.”

You hear him sigh, then shuffle, and then he’s rolled over to face you, offering a human-made cocoon that you happily burrow into. He’s soft and warm and smells like his manly body wash—and your shampoo, damn it. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” he says, soft enough to count but not enough for you to notice. 

Waking up tangled with Jackson was, unfortunately (?), not all that unusual. When you were upset, you found your way to his bed, and despite his protests you knew he didn't actually mind. It went both ways—you'll die before you admit that you like it, if only because he's a human heater.

You still feel groggy, squinting and fumbling around for your phone. Such a task is difficult when there's deadweight slung over your waist, but you manage, bringing the device to your face.

10:43 a.m.

Oh good. You slept 8 hours—and half the day away, to your brain at least. You toss your phone down, debating whether or not you should just go back to sleep. You choose instead to roll over, addressing the sleeping shirtless man keeping you pinned to your bed.

Your camera roll was filled with photos just like this, because Jackson slept like a baby. Literally. Hands curled into fists, face relaxed, head tilted to the side. His blonde hair is mussed from sleeping with it wet last night, and you dodn't hesitate to run your fingers through it for no reason at all. It was soft and surprisingly thick, but you weren't about to dial back on the baldness theory.

Jackson stirred, though didn't wake up, shifting to lie on his back. Freed from your restraints, you sat up and had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

Of course the curtains parted like that, of course he was sleeping like a prince now, sunlight arcing off of his jaw—it even highlighted his stubble in an annoyingly poetic way. What kind of gods were kind enough to give him of all people that face?

He really was kinda...pretty.

No, not kinda. Jackson Wang was beautiful. You were his best friend, but you weren't blind. Maybe you'd become a little numb to his charms, but you'd seen what he could do to people with just a look, even without malicious intent. He was charismatic on top of that, though you were the only one who got to see the side of him that wasn't.

The side that stole your shampoo and commandeered your bed, anyway.

So fine, you knew he was pretty. But he was kinda sorta extra pretty right now, and maybe you wanted to remember it later.

You shifted to grab your phone—a never-ending quest for material to bully each other over—but the movement apparently jostled him awake. You sheepishly smiled as he blinked a few times, using the heel of his palm to rub the blurriness away.

"Really?" he asked, voice rough, eyes leveling to the phone in your hand. "Fucking creep."

"You have like a thousand pictures of me sleeping," you point out, narrowing your eyes. Jackson nods, rolling over and hugging your waist, his head resting against your hip.

"That I do—you're cute when you drool all over yourself. I'm working on a collage."

"Asshole," you mutter, prying his arms off of you. You make an attempt to escape, but as expected, you're smoothly hauled back down.

"Where you going?"

"I need to pee, wanna come with?"

"It's early."

"It's almost 11."

"Yeah, early."

Jackson grunts before you can reply, practically placing you in a chokehold as he rolls over. You have no choice but to go with him, ending up flopped over his chest like a dead fish.

He says nothing for a moment, and you wonder if he's fallen back asleep. It's not difficult to squirm out of his grasp this time, though rather than allowing you to slide off, the apparently-awake-Jackson moves both hands to your hips.

Your stomach does that funny thing it sometimes does around him, like a little alarm that says 'hey! getting too close!' Listening to this alarm had prevented a lot of mistakes over the course of your friendship, mistakes like wanting to kiss him when you were tipsy, noticing the way he looked after a long workout, hair plastered to his forehead, the fuzziness you felt that time your heating pad broke, and his warm hands wound up on the lower half of your tummy to stave off the cramps.

Mistakes like that.

His eyes open again, and you do your best to look irritated.

"I'm sorry about last night," he says, suddenly unnaturally serious. "I was just trying to cool off, and my phone died, so I didn't see your text until after I got home."

You're not really sure how to respond—it was always strange when conversations got like this between you, regardless of the topic. It was so jarring, so far from the usual cracked out nonsense. You decided to nod, then shake your head, then nod again.

Jackson was a badass, most people knew as much. He was trained in martial arts and practically ate protein for every meal. But despite this, he wasn't typically an aggressive guy. You'd only ever seen him throw one punch—an ex of yours a couple years ago who threatened to post a nude photo of you. Needless to say, the guy deleted them, made difficult thanks to the blood smearing his screen as it dripped from his nose.

"It's fine, I get it," you say. "Just...why were you so mad at him? Did he do something to you?"

Jackson blinks up at you, shifting so that he's partially sitting up on his elbows.

"I told you, y/n," he says, shaking his head like you're an idiot. "He broke your heart, I was gonna break his face. You should've let me get one hit in at least."

"He didn't break my heart," you groan, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that serious, you know that. We'd only been dating for 4 months."

"...I watched you cry for an hour because someone stepped on a worm—"

"—that's different. It's literally a living little creature, what if that's someone's girlfriend, hm? What if she asked her boyfriend 'would you still love me if I was a worm' and he said yes except now they can't live wormily ever after because she's smushed all because some horrible person can't be bothered to step aside for a worm?"

Jackson stared up at you, blinking slowly, looking 175% done with your shit.

"What the fuck is wormily ever after?"

You sigh, leaning forward until your head is on his bare shoulder. You have half a mind to bite him, though you resist. You will be civil—for now.

"I don't know," you mumble. "No early birds, no hot sidewalks?"

"I....you're so fucking weird."

"Lots of guys are dickheads, but you were ready to knock him out. Really, Jackson, was that all? Promise he didn't say something to you?" you ask, voice muffled against his warm skin. Just one lil munch. It'd be good payback for him scaring the hell out of you last night.

Jackson exhales, and there's suddenly a hand tugging at your tangled mess of bedhead until you're sitting up, looking down at him.

"I wanted to kick his ass for the same reason that I never bring anyone home," he says quietly. His eyes are serious, no sparkle of humor in them, and it makes your stomach twist. You didn't like it when Jackson got serious.

"What? Because of me?" you ask. "I don't care who you fuck as long as I don't have to cook them breakfast."

Mostly true—you were afraid of walking out of your bedroom one morning and running into a really pretty girl, someone with perfect grades and clear skin, who has the audacity to be beautiful and nice. Someone only Jackson deserves. But you leave that bit out and give him a half teasing smile.

Jackson doesn't return it. He grunts, moving his hand up to tug at his hair. You slip yours beneath his, mumbling for him to stop doing that.

"You really don't?" he finally asks, swallowing hard enough that you see his throat move.

"Don't what?"

"You don't care who I fuck?"

His question catches you off guard, though not as much as the fact that he still looks dead serious. This seems like something the two of you should be laughing over—not something to talk about whilst you're currently straddling your best friend in your bed, who happens to be naked from the waist up.

"I mean...no?" you say, shaking your head in confusion. "Should I?"

"I don't know, should you?"

Should you? What the hell was that supposed to mean? You didn't like riddles, and this felt like one. You'd tried to stay out of his business over the four years you've been friends, though come to think of it...you'd never met any of his girlfriends after the first six months. You'd assumed he was so busy with classes and his extracurriculars that there just wasn't much time for anything past shallow hookups.

But...you couldn't remember a single time that had occurred. He was home every night, never brought company over for that purpose.

"Jackson," you say quietly, palms resting on his chest. When the hell did he get so muscular? There was a noticable firmness beneath your fingers, and you briefly considered billing Leejin for your services in making sure he didn't get the shit beat out of him. "I feel like this is an inside joke and I'm out of the loop. You're upset? Why?"

"Why would I be?" he counters, irritatingly smooth. The hands on your hips squeeze once, like he's trying to talk to you in morse code. It's annoying.

"Quit," you mumble, biting your lower lip. "I'm trying. Stop being mean and just tell me."

He sighs, moving a hand to his face.

"If you don't already know, then it doesn't matter, alright?"

"Wh—"

You're cut off as he suddenly shifts from beneath you, leaving you tumbling to the sheets when he stands. Just like the last two times for some damn reason, he prepares to storm out of the room.

"Jackson, wait—shit."

You trip over the edge of your nightstand, catching yourself on your hands. Your lamp tumbles to the floor, thankfully not shattering on the carpet. Still, the ache brings tears to your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you sit down.

"How many times have I told you to push that against the wall!?" Jackson says, rushing over to you. You lean back against your bed, grimacing as you look at your knee. It's not the worst scrape you've ever gotten, but it is bleeding, and it burns.

"Hang on, pie." He leaves the room, and by the time he returns with the pack of bandaids and peroxide, you're covering your face with one hand and hugging your knee with the other.

"Hey, it's not so bad," he says, obviously in partial panic mode as he kneels in front of you and tugs at your ankle. He probably thought that's why you were in tears, but it was moreso the fact that he was being...just...weird, and you didn't like it.

You quietly sit there, hands over your eyes as he uses a cotton ball to dab at the blood. You don't even flinch, it doesn't burn—perks of having an MMA star for a roommate; he knew how to bandage a cut (a common occurence for your clumsy ass, unfortunately).

After a few minutes, he pats the side of your calf, and you finally uncover your eyes. There's a bandaid over the scrape now, and you let your knee fall to the side. Jackson is looking at you, and you nod.

"That's good, thanks," you mumble quietly.

"You sure?" he asks. You frown, nodding quickly. But his hand moves up to your cheek, cupping it as his thumb swipes below your eye.

Tears.

That alarm goes off inside of you, but Jackson doesn't move his hand, so you let it sit there and you feel your stomach tying itself into a knot. You're a little worried it's not gonna come undone.

"I wasn't crying because of that," you say, swallowing as you glance away shamefully. "I...I don't like this, Jackson. Feels weird. If I did something to make you mad, I wish you'd just tell me—"

"I'm not mad at you," he replies. You sniff, and finally his hand slips away, though only to rest on your uninjured knee. His fingers twitch, like he wants to do something but won't let himself. Slap you, maybe, for never listening to him and always ending up hurt because of it. You would, if you were him.

"You keep running away from me," you point out, a little surge of anger from last night returning. "You keep acting like I'm supposed to know everything you're thinking, and I don't, because you won't tell me stuff. I tell you stuff, the least you could do is text me a grocery list of what the fuck is going on inside of your brain, so I'm not sitting here thinking I'm gonna lose my best friend and roommate over something I don't even know that I've done. I'm sorry we ran into Leejin, it's not like I knew he was gonna be there. I'm sorry for thinking I was special in the first place and ending up where you said I'd be."

Jackson sighs and tilts his head, and you hate yourself for crying more. It wasn't a big deal, things were a little crazy after yesterday. You didn't even love Leejin, it had just...hurt? Your pride? No one wants to know they're less than a second choice. But Jackson had acted like Leejin was out for his blood, and every time he runs away, it feels like he's escaping you.

"You're not gonna lose me," he finally says, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I've got a lot of shit to work through, you know? It's not...it's not your fault though."

"Like what?" you ask, worry lining your brow. "If you'd just—is it money? Because we can figure out rent—"

"It's not money," he interrupts. "I promise, it's nothing like that."

"Then what?" You huff, a little more irritated than concerned. "Parents? Grades? Girl trouble?"

"Yeah," he nods, licking his lips. "That last bit."

"Girl trouble?" you ask, somewhat surprised. For some reason, the fact that he hadn't told you about a girl bothered you more than the idea that there was one at all. You shared everything with him; if he'd kept her a secret, it had to have been a little more serious.

"Do I know her?" you ask tentatively. Please say no, I don't want to go through a list of the hottest girls I know.

"Yeah," he replies. Fuck.

"Oh. How long have you been dating?"

"We're not."

"Then...?"

"She's an idiot."

"It's a mystery as to why you're single, really," you say, rolling your eyes. "So she's an idiot because she won't date you? Sounds kind of shallow on your end."

"She's an idiot because she keeps dating jackasses who don't give a shit about her. I don't give a damn if she ever chooses me or not," he says plainly. You frown.

"Maybe she's insecure?"

"She is. Very."

"Huh. Is she pretty?"

"Beautiful."

"Oh. Hm."

Well what the fuck were you supposed to say to that? Congratulations? Sorrows, sorrows, prayers?

"Okay..." you say after a beat. You were not good with advice, especially when it came to love, obviously. He didn't say love though. Infatuation, maybe. Still, you were not an expert. "So if she keeps dating jackasses and won't date you, why do you bother? Why not just forget about her?"

Jackson's eye twitches. You don't notice.

"Hard to forget someone you see every day, pie," he says. You scoff.

"Okay, I'm calling bullshit. I'm literally the only person you see every day."

"Mhm."

"Then you're lying?" you ask. Jackson deadpans.

"Please, for the love of god, never reproduce."

"Rude," you mutter. "Fine, so I know her, she's insecure, pretty, dates assholes, you allegedly see her everyday?"

"All of the above," he says. You frown, lips pursing as you rack your brain for answers, going through the hot insecure girls you know like a filing cabinet.

Wait.

Your eyes widen. Jackson's do the same, and then he smiles, like he's proud of you.

"Oh my god, is it Kim Sujin?" You ask, covering your mouth. "The girl with the—"

"Jesus fucking christ, y/n," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Are you...you're fucking with me? That's what this is. You're not this dumb, right? Please say no. I feel like I'm in middle school right now, holy shit."

You open your mouth to argue, to insist he was being unfair (you didn't even like puzzles!) but he suddenly leans forward, palms cupping both of your cheeks. He pulls you toward him, nose inches from yours. You've been this close to him before, but you're suddenly dizzy now, a little out of it as you wonder if this is really happening to you—or if this is another sweaty-jackson-standing-over-me dream. Jackson, who has freckles on the tip of his nose and won't stop looking at you like that, the knot pulling tighter and tighter.

"Stop thinking before you hurt yourself. 'm gonna kiss you now, is that okay?" he asks.

Is that oka—?

"Kiss?" you mumble, swallowed up by those god damn pretty brown eyes. Jackson nods, head tilted, primed to kiss the cluelessness out of you, apparently. "Y-yeah, that's fine."

"It's gonna be...it's gonna be a lot, okay? Like not just a peck. You're fine with that?"

"Yep," you nod.

Jackson nods back. And then he kisses you.

He doesn't release your face, squishing your body between himself and the bed behind you. His lips press to yours, insistent and warm, though you can tell he's being cautious—if you wanted to push him away, you could. But you did not want to do that.

Because Jackson Wang was kissing you, and he's a really good kisser.

You briefly forget that you have hands, so when you remember, you waste no time in using them. One cups his jaw, feeling the edge of it press into your palm. The other fists his blonde hair, tugging it gently.

Jackson groans into your mouth, and that alarm in your belly turns into a fucking war drum. You feel the knot tighten and snap, and suddenly you're pushing him back, scrambling into his lap.

You kind of want more, kind of want to put your tongue in his mouth because he's warm and tastes good and you can only imagine how much better it would be, but he beats you to it. His tongue swipes over your lower lip and you eagerly open for him. He breathes in as soon as you do, and it feels like he's stealing your soul. Fuck it? He can have it?

It's messy, a tad bit desperate, definitely not the poetic kiss of rom coms, but you don't give a shit. It feels good, feels warm and right, like you've been kissing him in your head every day for the past 4 years.

By the time you manage to separate, you're trembling an embarassing amount. You'd blame the buzz on coffee if you'd had any, but you just hide your flushed cheeks and rest your forehead against his shoulder. You can tell that for once, Jackson's brain seems to also have short circuited, as it takes him a minute before he finally wraps his arms around you. You can hear his breath—as shaky as yours, thank god.

"Was that okay? Was it weird? Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asks, tilting back on one palm to look at you, his other arm secured around your waist. You sit up, shamelessly biting your lower lip, refusing to meet his eyes. He mistakes this for discomfort, all but shoving you out of his lap, hands flying to his hair.

"Fuck, I...I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to. I wasn't gonna...I'm so fucking sorry y/n, if you want me to move out—"

"You're gonna go bald," you mumble, a little blitzed out as you rest on your hands.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Stop freaking out, okay?" you offer, finally looking up at him. God he looks...scared. Hair messy, brown eyes wide. So unlike his usual cocky self that you're a little shaken, caught between wanting to protect him and wanting to kiss him again.

"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?" he asks softly. That alarm is now everywhere, setting off in your chest at his concerned tone. You shake your head.

"No. I'm okay," you reassure him. "A little irritated."

Jackson's head snaps up, worry on his face. You feel guilty, so you quickly clarify.

"You said I'm not special," you say quietly, looking away. "If you were talking about me just now...why did you tell me that?"

He looks confused, like he can't remember (of all the things he's said to bully you—while you kept a detailed record). But he seems to finally recall the conversation, rubbing his forehead as his lips spread into a smile.

"What's funny?" you puff.

"I meant to him, pie. You're not special to him. Not that you weren't special at all, or to...to me," he explains, looking part amused and part shy. You soften a bit, unable to help but pout.

"Then you should say that!" you say, gesturing at nothing. "You can't just go around telling people they aren't special."

"I don't make you feel special?" he asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

Well, yes, but that's not the point. You choose not to reply.

Just like most things when it comes to you, however, he already knows the answer. He looks a little too proud of himself as he reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into him. You're not quite in his lap, but you lean heavily against his side, your chin resting against his chest.

"What if we mess it up?" you ask, looking up at him. He frowns, not understanding. "Us. What if...what if we mess us up?"

"I don't see how we would," he laughs. "We're practically married."

"Gross. We are not."

"We split the bills, pie."

"Most roommates do."

"We cook together."

"Most roommates do."

"My mother loves you."

"Your mother loves everyone."

"Not true. And my father loves you."

You pause, then squint.

"Your father has good taste," you say. Jackson rolls his eyes. He looks a little conflicted, like he can't decide what's too much, what's too soon.

"I do," he says quietly.

You hate that, for once in your life, you know exactly what he's saying without him saying it. And god damn it, you feel your eyes burning.

"Don't...ugh," you whine, looking away from him. But he's not having it, taking your chin and tilting your face up. You're faced with glassy eyes that make you want to die.

You hated it when he cried. Maybe you make his joints hurt or whatever, but you've only seen Jackson cry twice, once when his family dog died, and another when he was drunk and had convinced himself you weren't his friend anymore. Both times, you'd never felt so helpless. The way you feel now.

"Y/n, I—"

"Please don't," you breathe quickly, swallowing down your tears. You immediately panic at the look on his face, like you've slapped him. But you tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head.

"No, I-I mean, I know you do, and I...I'm pretty sure I do too. I just...I can't say it now, alright?" you explain. "I'm sorry, I just—you know me better than anyone. I don't...don't wanna fuck it up, you know? I don't wanna lose you, I'm so bad, so stupid when it comes to this—"

"Hey, hey, shh..." Jackson says, gently shaking your chin. "I'm not upset, okay? Just relieved, a little scared. I don't want to fuck this up either, yeah? I want...I want what we are today and I want it tomorrow, even if that means we stay just like this."

His thumb brushes your lower lip. God, you want to kiss him again.

"No rush, pie, okay? I'll wait for you, even if..." he sucks in air and looks away, as though the idea hurts to even consider. "...even if it's never for us."

You want to kiss him again. Would that even be appropriate? After what you just said? After the emotions threatening to disrupt the foundation of your life for the past four years?

"Can...can I kiss you again?" he asks softly. You swallow and nod.

"Please."

pssst...do we need a part two with fluff and maybe some smut for these two idiots?

[collectingsorrows444]

Hey guys! :) Just drawing more silly stuff (fan art/doodles or sketches)

*drags myself from out of my grave of schoolwork*

Operation Ichor AU! By @slumbrr-r (GO CHECK THEM OUT!! Make sure to take breaks too, Slumbrr :D )

CHARACTERS INCLUDED:

Lumine by @gyan81 (sorry lol, I’ve never drawn characters holding any guns or weapons similar to such)

Wafi and Lina by @segagrimreaper (digital and traditional versions bc I personally think the traditional one is better but I really wanted to color it digitally)

Atri and Achelois by @theinfamousmaybelle (SEND MORE OF THE CUTIES PLS)

Carne by @youlookveryinterested (I kept frustrating myself with how the butcher knife would be held and which way, so I gave up sorry if it looks a little funny😭)

Cherri by @lilatheglitchybunny (every time I try to draw her smile, I start getting Sans AU/Undertale war flashbacks. 😭)

Holmes, Toots, and Shrimpo by @genderlessjacky (I owe you a real piece of art for them, just not this one)t

Teensy by @a-peanut11 (SHES SO CUTE OMG??)

Periot by @frenchcowws (my gf :D she finally has a blog now :> encouraging her to post/do art! She’s a very good artist :D )

POV: When your traditional art is better than your digital art 😔 (or the other way around)

One of my favorite girlbosses

Yeah so, basically another summary of the two I guess? (I bet there at least a bit of mutual understanding for each other. I promise real art will be made of Holmes’s family soon.)

Kiran thinks very highly of others around her.

CAPTIONS + ADDED COMMENTARY: a fucking termite bomb (or hornets) || *a dick move and she knows it! However, she does have a pest problem. Besides, if you (usually being a customer) don’t like bugs, she’ll try to keep them out of sight.*

(Idk, don’t ask me. She said she wanted to have a bomb and came up to have termites in them?? We both thought it would be funny and fit Periot’s character well. RIP if you don’t like bugs)

Canonically, she’s supposed to have a bounty or target on her head :)

“Mama, I’m in love with a criminal—“

My stummy been hurting a bit this week so :( But I promise you I have been drawing concepts and will add more lore for both Kirans (OG and Operation Ichor!version) soon! :)

(literally keep getting sick everytime I start to get better.. JUMPING)

[gingerteafairy]

girl never stop writing todd haynes fics im obsessed. esp 'third wheel payback' soso good i love a comic reader fic <3

funny you say that right as i was finishing this one hssowiejsnsk wrote it after seeing an adorable edit of todd with every man gets his wish by lana del rey on tiktok and i religiously saw it everyday multiple times ❤️‍🩹

spiderman milkshake (todd haynes x reader)

Who said comics can't help on a date?

tags n warnings: smut/mdni, waitress!reader, comic references, language, fingering, dry humping, kinks. word count: 4.3k

Todd was practically glued to his milkshake, sucking on the straw like it was some kind of life-sustaining multivitamin when he saw you walk by, effortlessly balancing a tray while tending to the tables. You looked adorable in that waitress uniform. Atomic Comics was his favorite place in the world—his friends, comic books, and a gorgeous nerdy waitress all in one spot. He could swear he saw you wearing a Venom T-shirt before you put on your uniform, matching with his Spiderman one.

Dave and Marty were deep in conversation, but Todd? He was somewhere else entirely—lost in his own world. Or, more accurately, lost in New York City, spideyvenom was getting really interesting right now.

"And like I was saying, Spider-Man’s powers are total garbage," Dave argued, popping a fry into his mouth. "I mean, web-shooting? That’s disgusting. Right, Todd?"

"Huh? Yeah. Totally." Todd replied absentmindedly, taking another sip.

"No way, and I can prove it! Webs are a hit! Just look at how he shoots them," Marty insisted, mimicking Spider-Man's signature hand gesture while making web-slinging sound effects. Dave immediately joined in.

Their laughter faded when they noticed Todd wasn’t reacting at all. He hadn’t moved a muscle. Following his gaze, they landed on you—standing a few feet away, scribbling an order onto your notepad.

Todd was mesmerized. The way you absentmindedly tucked the pen behind your ear, how your hair brushed against your neck, the delicate earring dangling just beneath—it was adorable. He wished he had given you that earring himself.

"I’m telling you, man. You should just talk to her. That’s your second milkshake," Dave pointed out, growing tired of watching Todd’s thousand-yard stare.

"Yeah, dude. This is getting kinda creepy," Marty added, raising an eyebrow.

Truth be told, Todd had known you way before his friends ever did.

He had once posted an insanely cool Justice League edit, and you had actually commented on it. That one reply had somehow turned into a full-on conversation, which then turned into many conversations. And before Todd even knew what hit him, he was completely, hopelessly into you.

The moment you casually mentioned that you read manga too? Yeah. That was it. Game over.

Even if you both chatted online everyday, seeing you in person was a completely different experience. It was like you were strangers all over again. Part of that was because Todd was horrifically shy and couldn’t even look you in the eyes without feeling like his soul was going to physically leave his body. The other part? Well… you were a waitress.

For some reason, that made it feel… wrong.

Like he fantasized a lot, basically a porn movie plot, you coming only on a apron saying "hey, sweetie, here's your milkshake" in an exaggerated sultry voice as you took the piece off. If a hacker could see his browsing history, they would see that 50% of waitress kink videos visualizations came from Todd's PC.

But as a normal shy guy, he was afraid of bothering you. Like you were only talking to him because it was literally your job. And, of course, there was also the massive fear that Dave and Marty would say something stupid and completely humiliate him.

Because, let’s be real—they absolutely would.

Dave exchanged a knowing glance with Marty—silently forming a plan. "Hey, waitress!" He suddenly called out.

Todd’s eyes widened in panic. "No! No, no, no—what the fuck am I supposed to say to her?"

"Order another milkshake," Marty snickered.

Todd ran a shaky hand through his hair, clearly freaking out as he saw you glance in their direction before heading toward their table.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit—she’s coming!" His voice barely came out as he scrambled for an escape, gulping down his milkshake like his life depended on it.

"How can I help?" you greeted with a warm smile, the sunlight from the window behind you making you look even more radiant. Then, your gaze landed on Todd. "Hey, Todd. The usual?"

"Me?" Todd blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. He turned to his friends, who looked just as amused as they were surprised.

"Yeah… milkshake. I know you like it—you always get the same thing," you beamed casually, already flipping open your notepad.

"Uh… I… can I…" Todd stumbled over his words. Oh my God, she knows what I like. His brain was short-circuiting. "I wanna buy you a milkshake."

You let out a soft laugh, pulling the pen from behind your ear and jotting something down. "I’m gonna serve you a big slice of ‘never do that again,’ okay?"

You replied, folding the piece of paper and placing it near his hand before walking away. Todd stared at you, utterly devastated. His soul left his body.

"Oof, dude… that was rough," Dave cringed, physically recoiling from secondhand embarrassment.

"Yeah, I kinda saw that one coming," Todd muttered, hesitantly unfolding the note—fully expecting his official rejection letter, his eyes widened.

"Oh. My. God."

"What?!" Dave and Marty leaned in at the same time. Todd slowly turned the paper around.

"I’m off at 5. XOXO."

"XOXO?" Dave repeated, snatching the paper.

"It means hugs and kisses, dumbass," Marty rolled his eyes, taking it from him to inspect the handwriting. Before he could analyze further, Todd swiped back his sacred treasure.

"I dunno… think I won’t go," Todd murmured, pouting dramatically.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're gonna chicken out now that she actually showed interest?" Marty hissed in disbelief.

"I don’t know, man… She’s perfect. And I’m just… this." Todd gestured vaguely to himself. He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he absentmindedly reached for his milkshake straw—only to find nothing there.

"Hey, man. Don’t be like that," Marty said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "If she’s into you, that means there’s gotta be something cool about you."

"Yeah, Todd. You’re a cool guy, the smartest one out of the three of us. You’ll do great," Dave reassured him, flashing a confident smile.

Todd let out a weak laugh, barely processing the words as he glanced at you. His heart skipped a beat when you turned and met his gaze, smiling at him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Was this what cardiac arrest felt like?

"Yeah… it’s gonna be great," he mumbled, his lips stretching into a dumb, lopsided grin. Every ounce of self-doubt vanished. That smile of yours? That was all he needed today.

Marty and Dave, sensing the gravity of the situation, made sure to stay with him until the very last minutes of your shift. They cracked jokes, debated superhero fights, and did their best to keep Todd from imploding. And for a while, it worked—until the clock ticked closer to 5 PM.

Todd felt it before he saw it—the rush of oh-no-oh-no-it’s-happening panic settling in his bones. His palms grew clammy as he watched you disappear into the employee break room. His foot tapped against the floor rapidly.

Dave, immediately noticing, snapped his fingers in front of Todd’s face. "Alright, dude. Focus up. Take this."

Todd blinked as Dave dropped a stick of gum into his hand. "Do I have bad breath?"

"No… but trust me, mint gum is a game changer. Chicks love it."

Marty, standing beside them, shoved his hands into his pockets and casually pulled out five more sticks of mint gum. Todd and Dave stared at him like he had just pulled out five engagement rings.

"What?" Marty blinked. "I like to be prepared."

"As if you’re kissing that many people," Dave snorted.

Marty rolled his eyes and flipped him off. "I am a romance expert, okay? I’m the best at Romance Simulator, and I’ve picked up a ton of tips—"

"Oh yeah, great example, Marty," Dave cut in.

"Hey! Those games are super realistic!" Marty huffed, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. "I even have a girlfriend in one of them."

"The only girlfriend you’re ever getting," Dave snickered.

Todd, however, wasn’t listening anymore. His brain had short-circuited the moment he saw you step out of the break room, adjusting your bag strap as you waved goodbye to your coworkers.

"Guys, she’s coming," he whisper-hissed, suddenly shoving them aside. Panic took over. "How do I look? Am i stinking?"

Before anyone could react, Todd lifted his arm toward Marty. Marty recoiled like a cat sprayed with water. "DUDE. I’m not smelling you."

"Come on, please! I don’t even know if I put on cologne—Dave!" Todd pleaded desperately, his eyes wide with silent help me energy. Dave just shook his head, holding back a laugh.

"You ready?" Your voice rang out, bright and casual, like you hadn’t just sent Todd spiraling into a crisis. His body moved before his brain could, immediately slamming his arm down and scrambling to his feet.

"Of course! Let’s go!" he blurted out, way too enthusiastic, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans like that would magically solve the problem.

But when he finally looked at you—saw the soft amusement in your eyes, the way your lips twitched like you were holding back a laugh—his nerves settled just a little bit.

You both stepped out of the store, and Todd could not stop staring. He had never seen you in casual clothes before.

The skirt? Adorable. That black Venom t-shirt? Perfect. The way it fit on you? Dangerous. You turned to face him, the soft scent of your hair hit him like a gentle, but highly effective truck.

"Finally worked up the courage to talk to me, huh? I was starting to think you were embarrassed of me," you teased, laughing.

"Embarrassed of you? Jesus, it’s more like the opposite," he blurted out, rubbing the back of his neck. The warm, bubbly feeling in his chest only grew when you laughed at his joke.

"So why didn’t you ever talk to me?" you asked, genuinely curious. First things first, let’s be honest here.

You were just as into Todd as he was into you.

There was something about him that was so effortlessly adorable. The way he always ordered a milkshake, sipping on it like it was the best thing in the world. You made sure to take your sweet time preparing it just right—just so you could see that little happy smile he made when he took the first sip.

Todd was the kind of guy who made you giggle and kick your feet on your bed, cheeks burning at just the thought of him.

And the fact that he had zero clue about the effect he had on you? It almost made you feel like some kind of stalker. Casually texting him every day just to keep the conversation going. Catching yourself wishing you were his milkshake straw, quenching his thirst, around his rosy wet lips. Oh, the tongue—

Todd, completely unaware of all of this, was busy trying not to combust.

"I just… I thought you’d be embarrassed of me because, well… I'm—" He exhaled, hesitating, hoping you’d finish the sentence for him.

Loser, his brain supplied helpfully. Instead, you smiled and said, "Shy?"

Todd blinked. That was not the word he expected.

You—beautiful, funny, way-too-cool-for-him—were looking at him with zero judgment. Just patience. Just kindness. He was sure you're going to heaven when you died.

"Yeah… I guess," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry about that."

"no, I'm the one that should be apologizing," you cooed, sighing. "Sorry about the dump, i was kinda angry with you. I was starting to think you hated me and I don't know, ghosting."

"No, shit. Sorry," he whined, feeling like an ass to make you feel like this. "From now on, i'll talk to you every time I see you. Promise."

"Deal. Hey, do you remember that new Marvel issue I told you about?" you asked, smoothly changing the subject.

Todd nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah! It’s great. Why?"

"I bought it. It’s at my place. Wanna come see?"

Todd’s brain immediately shut down. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Processing… Processing… ERROR: BRAIN NOT FOUND.

"I… uh… one sec! I forgot something back in the store," Todd blurted out, laughing way too weirdly before bolting back inside.

He skidded to a stop at the table where Dave and Marty were still sitting, slamming his hands down on it like he was in some kind of action movie. "Date over already?" Dave questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"SHE WANTS ME TO GO TO HER HOUSE," Todd announced, not breathing, before grabbing Dave’s soda and chugging it.

"And what the hell are you waiting for? Go before he changes her mind! You don't have many options," Marty urged, while Dave yanked his soda back, dramatically wiping the rim before taking another sip.

"But I don’t know what to do! It’s not a date! She just mentioned something about a new Marvel issue," Todd gasped, heart pounding, his body already covered in stress sweat.

Dave and Marty exchanged a look. Marty was the first to speak, grinning. "That’s a code."

"That’s 100% a code," Dave agreed.

Todd blinked. "A code? The hell you talking about?" He whispered like a true paranoid man, glancing out the window to make sure you weren’t listening. Luckily, you were distracted on your phone.

"Okay, Todd. Tell me when the new Marvel issue actually comes out," Dave prompted, crossing his arms.

"March 23rd. Why?" Todd replied, even more confused.

"And what’s today’s date?"

"Hmmm, lemme think. Okay, I know. March 19th, but what does that have to—" Todd froze. His brain short-circuited. His eyes went huge. "Oh my God. It’s a code."

"It’s a code," they both confirmed, nodding like wise sages.

The realization hit Todd so hard that all three of them jumped up in celebration—only to immediately sit back down when everyone in the store looked at them like they were insane.

"Shit. I gotta go. Bye!" Todd practically sprinted away.

"Crack that code wide open, Todd!" Dave called after him, laughing as Todd flipped him off on his way out.

“Hey, man,” Marty called, stopping Todd, gesturing him to come closer and whisper. “Spiderman hands, you hear me?”

“What the—”

“Just do it,” he insisted and Todd frowned, realization coming when he did the gesture himself. “You see?”

“Got it. Thanks, dude,” he beamed, training with his both hands. You never know when you have to use your non dominant hand.

“And when you do it down there…” He continued, hands on his face to cover the gesture. “Venom tongue. Flash movements.”

“Damn, Marty. You're a fucking Wikipedia,” he grinned, keeping the information on his head. “Do the sage has more advices to this poor mortal?”

“Oh, i got one,” Dave standed, joining the conversation. “If she looks at your lips, don't chicken out. One more thing, mimic her lips, that way you won't mess your first kiss.”

“What? I had my first kiss.” He murmured blushing.

“Seriously, dude?” Marty mocked, giving an exaggerated eye roll. While Todd was still inside, you whipped out your phone and immediately typed into the group chat.

You: Girls, seriously. I’m with him.

Erika: Who??

You: Todd Haynes!!!!

Katie: OH MY GODDD

You: I’m so nervous, Idk what to do.

Erika: Apron. Wear it.

You: For what?

Erika: You’ll understand.

Katie: You got this, girl. You’re amazing.

Erika: Get him pregnant

You snorted at your friends’ chaotic but heartfelt encouragement, quickly locking your phone the second you saw Todd skidded back up to you, barely keeping it together.

"I’m back! I, uh, forgot… my keys," he explained, shaking them a little to prove it.

"I forget mine all the time. So… ready to go?"

He nodded so fast it was almost embarrassing.As you walked, Todd felt like he was floating. Your house was close to the store, and when you stepped inside, Todd couldn’t help but drink in his surroundings. It was small, but cozy—just like you.

He wanted to be cool about it. Casual. Normal. So, naturally, he started copying every single thing you did like some kind of socially awkward robot.

You took off your jacket? Boom. Jacket off. You took off your shoes and put them neatly on the shoe rack? Guess what? Todd was doing that too.

Smooth. Totally natural.

"So…" you started, taking a step closer to him. "What do you want?"

Todd choked on absolutely nothing and immediately backed up a step. Oh God. She moves fast. Is it happening? Is this it? Shit, I don't have any condoms here.

"W-What do you mean?" he stammered, hands awkwardly hovering at his sides.

You let out a soft laugh, but internally, you were screaming. Come on, Todd. Pick up the hints. Please just kiss me already.

"Do you wanna check out the comic or do something else first?" you clarified, hoping he’d catch the very obvious subtext.

Unfortunately, you were dealing with Todd Haynes—a man who had never been close to a woman that wasn’t his own mother. Todd, however, was trying to trust his instincts—and the questionable advice of his friends. With a burst of sudden confidence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of gum.

"Wanna… gum?" he offered timidly.

You blinked. "Do I have bad breath?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

At that exact moment, Todd mentally began digging his own grave and jumping inside with a cheap bouquet. Dave crying looking at the rainy sky and Marty singing Love Hurts on his grave. R.I.P. Todd Haynes, the biggest coward to ever exist.

"NO. Oh my God. Fuck, no," he panicked, his words tripping over each other. "You smell… really good. Like, so good. I—uh. Shit. That sounded weird. I just—ugh, I shouldn’t have—sorry, I don’t know why I did that—"

Mid-breakdown, Todd shoved the gum back into his pocket and rocked back and forth on his heels, suffocating in the crushing weight of the awkward silence. You thought fast. You weren’t about to let this moment die, remembering the apron tip.

"Hey," you chirped, forcing casual confidence. "How about I cook for us?"

You turned toward the kitchen, heart pounding, silently praying the pots and pans would swallow you whole to spare you from the embarrassment.

Todd perked up immediately. "Yes! Yes, absolutely. I love everything you make," he rushed out, practically jogging after you before settling into a chair—the perfect spot to admire you while you cooked. You tied on an apron, completely unaware of the effect it had on Todd, who sat there, staring in silent awe.

"Wow."

You turned. "What?"

"Nothing!" he blurted, immediately crossing his arms like it would somehow make him look cooler and less flustered.

"Okay," you muttered, shaking your head as you turned to rummage through the cabinets. Erika was right, you’d definitely thank her. You stretched up on your tiptoes, but—unfortunately—your genius past self had placed the glasses way too high.

"Damn it…" you muttered.

Todd immediately jumped up. "I got it!"

He reached past you, his height making the task effortless—and for the first time, you actually registered how much taller he was than you.

"What do you need?" he asked, voice much closer than you expected.

"Uh…" You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling a little flustered yourself. "The glass cups. I, uh… accidentally put them super high."

Todd grabbed them easily, handing them over with a small, proud smile—totally unaware that his casual helpfulness had just made your heart skip a beat. He carefully set the two glasses down on the counter. You bit your cheek, your gaze meeting his—and lingering just a little too long.

The air between you suddenly felt thicker, heavier. His eyes flickered to your lips, and your breath hitched as you instinctively did the same. When you looked back up, his gaze was still there, locked on your mouth like it held the secrets of the universe.

Okay. Enough was enough.

Before your nerves could get the best of you, you moved, your fingers lightly brushing over his hand. Todd stiffened at first—face heating from the tiny touch—but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he exhaled sharply as he let his palm travel up to your cheek, hesitating for half a second before finally leaning in, closing the gap between you.

The second your lips met, you melted. Without thinking, your arms flew up, wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss—half in excitement, half to make sure he didn’t chicken out.

Todd, on the other hand, was very much spiraling.

Oh my God. Oh my God. I am kissing her. This is happening. She’s kissing me back. This is—

His brain short-circuited before defaulting to its best coping mechanism—imitation. Todd mimicked your lips movements, following your lead, and shockingly it worked. His hands instinctively gripped your waist, pulling you in closer.

And then, without really thinking, he tilted his head, stepping forward just enough to press you gently against the counter. It was official.

Todd Haynes had zero idea what he was doing. But somehow, it was going very, very well.

He moaned when your hands reached his hair, anchoring on his frame, he sucked your bottom lip like his life depended on it, he kissed hungrily. It was hot. So freaking hot, you were losing your mind, loving how he changed about it and just devoured you.

Everything was so good that he almost forgot about his cock pulsating inside his jeans. He pushed back, eyes wide as he looked down to the tent, eyes up to meet your mouth swollen, three tones redder and a huge teeth mark as the cherry on top.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry,” he whimpered, embarrassed with his hormones controlling his brain. “It’s just— I have no fucking idea of what I'm doing, but it's so good.”

“Yeah, it's really good,” you encouraged, coming closer, chests touching as you leaned to kiss him, slightly opening your legs, him entering the small gap you conceded.

The kiss was slower, more sensual. He was a fast learner, holding back on the vacuum-like sucking, concentrating on gentle nips. He pushed back, eyes closed.

“Is it better?” He muttered, ghosting his lips over yours.

“Yeah, but I think this would be better,” you breathed, taking his hand and directioning them to your lower belly, guiding him to your panties.

He gulped, nodding, opening his eyes to see you rolling your skirt up, giving him a sight of your panties. Todd Haynes was too stunned to speak. He just moved his hand to touch the covered spot, almost flicking his hand back when he felt you shivering.

“You can touch directly if you want to,” you suggested like you weren't the one dying of embarrassment.

Todd sighed. Spider-Man hands. He remembered when he pushed your panties down and patted his fingertip on your clit, watching your reaction. He gulped at you and looked at him with doe eyes begging to be touched. He wouldn't deny it, so he gently rubbed your clit, licking his lips, dying to feel your taste on them.

“Yeah, you're—pretty good, Todd,” you purred, your sounds making his head blurred, focused on your cunt getting wetter and wetter.

“Is it?” His eyes lit up, going down at your slit to collect more liquid and keep the stroking on your spot.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, spreading your legs wider. Todd's chest rose and fell rapidly, increasing the rhythm until he successfully inserted his middle finger inside. “Fuck.”

He froze his finger, searching your eyes to check if he did something wrong, but your flushed face, so beautiful biting your lip as your hips longed for his finger said the opposite. He was doing really good.

Encouraged by your lewd expression, he joined his ring finger inside, setting a pace by the reactions you were making.

“Faster, Todd,” you pleaded, grinding on his fingers. He couldn't even believe, looking down, seeing his fingers glistening in and out, disappearing on your cunt sucking them, your walls clenching around them, he was panting.

“Like this?” He asked in a whimpery voice, doing what you needed. He searched for your lips, brushing them as he heard the wet sound of your pussy.

You grasped his biceps, feeling the knot forming on your lower belly as you purred and whined on the kiss. Todd started to breathe faster, grinding on your thigh, his free hand palming your ass.

“Todd, I'm cumming,” you mewled, coming undone on his fingers, legs shivering as he held you in place, preventing you from falling down. He kept fingering you til he opened his mouth, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back, swaying his hips on your thigh.

He groaned, taking off his fingers from you and directioning it to his mouth, sucking your arousal. He hummed, looking back at you panting, hands gripping on the counter.

“You taste better than milkshakes,” he shyly added, planting an adorable peck on your lips.

“You're so cute,” you giggled, pecking him back. You weren't done, your hunger for Todd might never end. He was just so damn irresistible. “Hey… do you wanna, like… continue this?”

“Oh… uhmm…” He stammered, his nose doing the little frown you find cute. “We have to wait a little.”

“Why?” You pouted, tilting your head.

“Why?” He echoed, thinking about all the manners of saying the obvious, choosing to say it straight. “I came.”

You grinned, giggling at him getting beet-red. “Hey, don't worry about it. We can eat something while your body reacts.”

“Can i eat you?” He blurted, suddenly digging courage from the bottom of his heart.

You blushed, nodding, too shy to say something. He grinned, kneeling on the floor. “Hey, don't you wanna go to my room? It might be uncomfortable for you.”

“It's just…” he began, tilting his head up to meet your gaze, warm breath next to your cunt. “I kinda fantasize a lot about eating you out in the kitchen.”

“Really?” You panted, hands making their way to his head.

“Yeah,” he replied, licking his lips in anticipation. Venom tongue. Flash speed. “The apron is a bonus.”

That night, you finally lived your dream—becoming Todd’s milkshake straw in the best way possible. And Todd? He finally mustered up the courage to take a real chance on you.

You spent the rest of the evening wrapped up in each other, sharing a blanket that neither of you really needed. Your legs brushed. Your fingers tangled absentmindedly. Every now and then, Todd would steal a glance at you like he still couldn’t believe this was real. As you both talked for hours about the thing that brought you together in the first place—comics—he realized something:

Super heroes were cool. Spider Man and Flash? Even cooler. He couldn't forget to thank Venom as a villain.

But nothing—nothing—could top the way you looked at him like he was your favorite issue in the entire collection.

[crabanarchy]

i miss cd drives. how could you just take her pussy away. likes its nothing

[flipit-turnways]

strider-man... haha. im hilarious (johndave week day 5 - first kiss) alt under cut

[agentark]

everything we know about Red vs Blue means that there's a canonically supported reality in which every bit of the rvb timeline that happens post-Freelancer saga is actually just simulations Epsilon is running in WASH's head as he unravels

[darlingcloudie-9]

drewposting. part two!!!!!!! (ft. Diana Cavendish)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I have to weigh in 'cause while I am definitely a service-top Erik truther, I do agree with the previous anon who said he could be a sub/top. I think his control freak personality becomes too much at times and he needs to CHILL OUT and relax a little, and the best way Charles can help him do that is by taking control from him in bed and ordering him about, but with Erik still 'topping' it lends the illusion of control while stripping the actual responsibility of decision-making from him.

the council's come to a Rather Unanimous Conclusion oh wow that was easy

[daltonsnightmare]

MacGyver (2016) s1e12 Screwdriver | Cold Open

[sluckythewizard]

had this thought rotating in my mind since arthur had to wear that Anti-Sun disguise. and well. now u see it too

[l0gitex]

i have to know more....

[b4kuch1n]

pre-holiday leave crumbs

[miami2k17]

creep fans will make the funniest post ever and then write something so cringe underneath it that you should be drawn and quartered for reblogging it its a real problem

[chocolate-cream-soldier]

-.-