#i have TWO weezer shirts

[toothworxx]

Be More Chill except the SQUIP makes you MORE of a loser.

Put the Weezer shirt on, Jeremy.

[kreayshawni]

Asking a request for my irl husband!

Perhaps kissing headcanons for Jerry? If that’s already been done dating headcanons would also be so fun! People are always sleeping on Jerry he’s so fun and interesting!!

OFCC !! thanks for ur request! <3 i need more jerry askss ||ヽ(*��▽￣*)ノミ|Ю

dating jerry would include...

he's the most hygienic and overall, kindest of them all.

he's very nervous around you, no matter your personality, he's just afraid he'll say the wrong thing and you'll slip away, so reassurance is very much needed

he remembers literally every little detail about you. or things you've said, just so he can mention something about your favorite game / show / movie, whatever, to get you to talk more

''wow yeah, how'd you know i liked that?''

''i heard you talk about it like 5 months ago''

he doesn't realize how odd he sounds.

he blindly supports you, like if you're talking shit and you start to backpedal thinking you were in the wrong, he'll just feed into your delusions and tell you, you were in the right

he could genuinely just stare at you for hours on end. and he'll still find something new about you.

he can't stop talking about you either, he will nonstop yap to his mother about you, or if you're in the club he'll constantly go on about how he misses you if you couldn't come to a campaign. everyone is SICK of him

he doesn't exactly use nicknames, besides babe, but he loves ''girlfriend, boyfriend, partner''. it's not like an actual nickname but he just likes referring to you as something that's his. like, ''my girlfriend's coming over today'' ''have u seen my boyfriend?'' ''my partner is so nice''

kisses are always gentle with him, he'll have one hand on the back of your neck to keep you close. his lips are surprisingly soft, but he's probably a lip-bitter / picker, so 💔💔 i feel like he'd like mint/peppermint flavored things, so he probably tastes like that with a blue cherry gatorade mix

he, unfortunately, doesn't defend you that much. you really have to force him to stand up

i feel like his sleep schedule is all over the place so if you're a night-owl, great!! remember the, ''the marathon men'' comic chapter ?? when josh's parents kicked them out, he definitely went to your house in a sleep-deprived daze, and immediately collapsed on your bed with a vomit-covered t-shirt on, and dry blood around his nose

out of everyone honestly you two would have a higher chance of getting married in the future

'' i write these stupid words, and i love every one ''

[dulcet-aurora]

buddy holly . tim drake x reader ⸼ ࣪ ✿ ❛ i don't care what they say about us anyway. ❜

❪ in which. ❫ while beloved by the press, you and your boyfriend are an odd sight side by side. but ever since your world of pink chiffon and kitten heels met his of baggy zip ups and wrinkled track pants, the two of you have learned not to care.

⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. paparazzi being annoying, implication of the reader having long-ish hair, weezer references. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕. 0.7k. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔. @di-lucss, @ephemerensis, @dollishmehrayan, @aangelinakii. ⸼ ࣪ ✿ 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓. i wrote this in geo instead of doing my assignment and now i have a pound of homework :( but unfortunately the tim x girly girl!reader agenda must be spread because we know tim has a thing for the fashionistas... steph + kon do not play with how they look and i fear reader won't either.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒕im's eyes met yours in the bathroom mirror, the rim of fluorescent lights circling you and your boyfriend's reflection as he tied a satin ribbon into your hair. he gave you a cheesy smile, which you responded to with a small kiss motion of your lips. his nimble fingers brushed against your neck with care as his meticulous hands fashioned the strip of fabric into a bow. your freshly manicured nails adorned your hands, which cradled a gold pocket mirror as the other applied a sheen of glittery lip gloss to your plush lips.

a warm palm was gently placed on your shoulder blades as tim finished with the ribbon, laying a tender kiss on your neck. "all done, lovely," he mumbled against your skin. his hands slid down to hold your waist, his fingers pressing into your stomach clad in pink chiffon.

"thank you, pretty," you said back softly, closing your mirror with a gentle snap as your brush applied a final coat of gloss to your lips. tim's dimples dotted his cheeks as he smiled. the nickname made his cheeks flush a soft shade of pink, the same color of your dress dusting against his face.

he looked back up at the mirror, seeing the reflection of him and you in the mirror. there was you, his stunning, perfect, lovely girl who looked like a porcelain doll from the 1950s with your big eyes and fifty shades of pink, nails tipped with plastic bows resting on coats of pink. hair done in perfect pretty curls that fell down your chest tied with soft ribbons and fancy clibs. then there was him, hair tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed, wrinkled black jeans low on his hips paired with a collared shirt beneath a gray zip-up.

the media ate up the contrast between the two of you— in more ways than one. the tabloids loved to slam both of you with subtle insults, quietly criticizing your "obsession" with dressing up and accusing you of being eye candy, and tim's "unprofessionalism" and inability to look nice for his girlfriend.

"aren't we the pair," he said, his words tainted with sunshine. his smile made his eyes sparkle, the rim of light around the mirror reflecting in his deep blue irises.

"we're like lola and bugs," you giggled, your nails turning up to face the mirror as you cupped your hands over your mouth in a little pose.

"buddy holly and mary tyler moore," he added, kissing your temple as delicately as he could, not wanting to mess up your hair. "even though they were never actually involved. can you believe that, lovely? weezer might just be enemy propaganda for planting that into our heads."

your eyebrows furrowed as the gears in your head turned to understand, not knowing jack shit about weezer and their involvement with brainwashing but having an inkling about the song your lover liked. "really?"

"nope," he said, rubbing his fingers along your hip. "she was married and he died."

"oh," you blinked. "that one article was stupid, then."

tim chuckled at the memory of one headline that deemed the two of you "this generation's buddy holly and mary tyler moore". "wasn't it?" he agreed.

"it's refreshing," you said thoughtfully. "because you know i'm yours, and i know you're mine, and the press is stupid."

"three eternal things," tim whispered softly, spinning you around gently by your waist so you faced him. his eyes were like portals to his soul and he let you right in, gazing lovingly at your pretty face, pretty eyes, pretty cheeks, pretty hair, pretty lips. pretty, pretty, pretty. he cupped your jaw tenderly and pressed a soft kiss to your nose, one of the only spots on your face that didn't have makeup on so he didn't risk messing it up.

"but you don't need to worry about that. i don't care what they say about us, anyway," he said, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheek. "it's always been us. you and me. lola and bugs. just the two of us. the press doesn't have a place here."

"three's a crowd," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself against him, leaving the media and opinions of others with no room between his cotton zip-up and your chiffon, the contrast becoming one as tim brought you in for a kiss.

© dulcet-aurora 2025.

[01zfan]

in chair

anton x reader | 8.5k words

rewatched juno recently (the best movie of all time by the way) and i thought of anton. he is so paulie bleaker coded. this is mainlyyyy inspired by the beginning scene of the movie but the dynamic i tried to write here is supposed to be like them heh

also in my head the album pinkerton by weezer plays in the background during all of this. 

contains: loss of virginity, sneaking around

There was some sort of binding vow that kept the recliner safe.

Even if it made no sense, to Anton and to you it felt like doing it on the recliner was better than doing it anywhere else. As though Anton’s dad was all the way in South Korea unknowingly keeping his irresponsible son honest. The terrible conversation they had about safe sex in his home studio lingered in the air and seeped into the recliner through the cracks in the vinyl covering.

Neither of you had a condom but that was okay because the recliner itself was one big condom, keeping you both safe from whatever absolutely couldn’t happen.

No matter how Anton felt about you, he was convinced that nothing would ever come of it. Not only was he a responsible and dutiful son, he promised his dad he wouldn’t do reckless things to save his mom the trouble. He would also never do anything because the mere thought of holding hands made his palms sweaty. He didn’t even really know how to have sex, much less with someone he’s friends with and has been dating-but-not-really-dating for the last year. You once described the relationship as something that had to do with close proximity and your shared taste in nerd-rock bands everyone else thought were shitty. Even if he did share that kiss with you in Park Wonbin's sweaty basement for no reason and you two did hold hands, you weren't together. You two were open and honest but you got defensive once when Anton brought up anything regarding your relationship. So because of that, the thought of having to speak or touch you even if he wanted to, and you never had any complaints when he did, made Anton’s mind overflow with all that could go wrong.

But he was in the chair. This was better than laying missionary on the bed, or being on the floor. This was different than whatever you were going to do when you finally got the courage to take off your underwear and close the difference between you and him. 

You stood in front of Anton, watching him in just his boxers and a white shirt. His hoodie was taken off and thrown onto his small bed, his sweats were bunched at his feet. This scene had to be degrading, him with his pants down and staring at you waiting for what you were going to do next. You were wearing more clothes than him. You told yourself you couldn’t take off your layered shirts for his sake, not because the thought of being completely naked felt embarrassing. Anton was with you through your terrible nu-metal phase and even humored you and listened to the mixtape you burned for him. There was nothing worse than that but still, you stayed in your bra with your undershirt, the long sleeve, and the short sleeve band tee on top. Anton was still your bestfriend, and he could take back that he wanted to do this at any moment. 

There was also the fear that his mother and brother could come back. You two had lost track of time because you started awkwardly kissing immediately once you heard the front door close. Anton eventually found the strength to pull you onto his lap after sitting criss cross to accommodate you. Once you were there and your hands were on his shoulders bringing him closer, the seconds started turning into minutes, minutes turned into hours, so forth. You forgot when you even started and looking at the time was useless. 

All of this was ironic, because Anton’s mom had recently become wary of leaving you two alone. She had developed the habit of trying to snoop on your conversations while talking to his dad over the phone. She would stand in the kitchen, holding the phone close to her face while standing on her tiptoes to see over the upstairs banister into Anton’s room.

“Is he taking a liking to it?” Anton’s dad asked it over the phone when she described the scene to him. He was elated with the idea of the recliner going in his sons room. He saw it as some sort of compensation for missing more formative years in his life. He was happy imagining his son sitting in his old recliner, rocking back and forth on the creaky springs maybe even thinking about him. “He always favored that chair.” 

“It’s hideous,” Anton’s mom whispered it into the receiver, recalling the sight of it in Anton’s room. “Even in Anton’s mess of a room.”

The brown fraying recliner did not match Anton’s shining gold trophies and medals that hung on his wall. It didn’t match his old race car bed frame he couldn’t bring himself to replace. The way the recliner sat made Anton’s cluttered room an even tighter fit, and the growth spurt he had last summer made it so he had to bend his legs if he wanted to sit on the floor.

The reclining chair from his father’s studio was replaced with leather imported from overseas. The shipment came from Italy and stood on sturdy wooden rings with a detached ottoman. The new recliner was minimalist and smelled like a new car. The old one was clunky, the lever was sentient, and the vinyl started peeling off years ago. Anton’s brother said it was disgusting and his father said himself that he was due for an upgrade. 

Anton tried to remain indifferent to the old chair but when his mother asked for help to put it on the curb he found himself suddenly advocating for it to stay in the house. There was no reason for it to be downstairs in the studio where the new sofa was, and his mother would be damned putting it in the living room where anyone could see it. By the end of the day Anton was clearing out a place for the recliner in his room. Junyoung made that face of disgust and their mother tilted her head to the side. 

He already had a beanbag he rarely used and a million other things that cluttered his room. Anton’s mother told her son this gently, but he had already set his mind to it. He “cleared” a space—pushed a pile of unfolded laundry and stuffed animals from one side of his room to the other—just to make a brand new home for the disgusting sofa. Junyoung and him carried the heavy recliner up the stairs, bumping into the banister as his mom watched and told them to be careful. 

“He has a better use for it than I do.” Anton’s father said over the phone. Anton’s mom shook her head remembering her son’s promise of cleaning up his room. She also remembers that it felt like the entire family was in the room if she counted the chair. “Does he like it?”

“He likes sitting in it to do homework.” Anton’s mom from the kitchen peered up the stairs. From where she was she should be able to see directly into Anton’s room. She readjusted herself on her tiptoes, becoming more and more distracted as she tried to see what was going on. “But the one who’s really taken a liking to it is his friend.” 

Before her husband could say your name back to her in a titled voice Anton’s mom put her hand over the receiver of the phone and projected her voice.

“Kids.” She spoke sweetly, including an endearing term for everyone to seem inconspicuous. She pretended like she was talking to Junyoung through his closed door. She waited for a moment, until she could hear the sound of Anton calling back to her. “Are you guys hungry?” She asked.

“No. You just made us lunch.” Anton spoke barely above a normal talking volume back. 

Sound unfortunately carried easily even through half-shut doors. Anton’s mom had no reason to tell him to open the door all the way so she could snoop to her hearts content. Still though, she tried standing on her tiptoes again, desperately trying to see what was going on upstairs in her son’s room without prying.

“Lunch was really good by the way.” You said, even gentler than Anton’s.

“I can bring you guys up some snacks if you’d like?” She said back.

“Mom, we’re okay, really.” Anton’s voice told her that he knew what she was trying to do. She went back to the balls of her feet, trying to remember who was on the other side of the line. 

“You don’t have to bring us anything, you already made us lunch.” Your sweet voice followed afterwards, a cute pitch that neither of her sons had.

“Okay.” She let go of the receiver, trying to get one last look into Anton’s room. When she only saw the tip of his head she finally gave up, letting go of the receiver and bringing the phone back to her face. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you Mom.” 

“You bother them too much.” Her husband was amused on the other end of the line, even if his voice came out tired through the speaker. About seven thousand miles and fourteen hours separated them. “But do you think he’ll finally get furniture that matches?” He added.

His mother wasn’t completely against the idea of the recliner in Anton’s room. When her son looked back and for approval she nodded, and her approval made Junyoung follow suit. She liked the recliner because she hoped it would make Anton realize how juvenile the rest of his room was. The ill-fitted race car bed was from when he was a preteen and he’s amassed a collection of stuffed animals since he was a baby. The accolades from swimming was the most mature thing in her son’s room, even if there was a trophy from his little league days. Maybe the aged recliner would make Anton get things that accommodated his age. He could keep the gundam figurines because robots and guns are normal for kids his age, but not the colorful squishmallows. 

When his mother followed up the steps she had to breathe in before telling Anton that he needed to declutter his space. She said it to the stuffed animals spilling out from the hammock fastened to the wall and the barely closed doors of his closet she didn’t dare to open. She looked at the gundam figurines lining what was supposed to be his school desk and unfolded laundry resting at the foot of his bed.

The recliner could also be a stand-in for his father. She figured that in some weird way the recliner filled the void while he made music overseas. Next time she’d reprimand her son she already envisioned casting a glance towards the chair, like her husband was there backing her up. 

“Your mom definitely thinks we’re doing something we’re not supposed to.” You spoke while looking at your homework, settling deeper into the bean bag. Anton looked up from his notebook settled in between his bent legs. “She wants to come up here so bad.”

“What do you think she thinks we’re doing?” 

Anton asked the question just to pull you from your assignment. He knew the answer already, he picked up the desperation in his mother’s voice and the way she gently reminded Anton to keep the door open before you came over. He liked acting clueless because you always shot him the look that asked if he was stupid and deadpanned the answer. 

“She thinks we’re like,” Before the words could roll off your tongue you pause. It’s covered by the quiet mix coming through Anton’s CD player, but the way you avert your eyes and start picking at the corner of your paper makes it obvious. Anton looks back to his assignment too, trying to help you cover up the pause in your words. “kissing or something.” You finish.

Truthfully, what his parents think you two do when you’re left unsupervised is much worse than kissing. So much worse that Anton was sat down by his parents to have a terribly awkward safe sex talk. He didn’t know what he was doing in his dad’s home office or why they started the conversation with how you two met. 

Anton already knew that you became friends when you were freshmen, pushed to the outskirts of your grade’s caste. Your shared niche taste in media brought you two close together at the cost of any chance at being popular. He already knew that his only other opportunity to make friends was through forced proximity of his teammates on the swim team, and you still had your friend from childhood. She was the complete opposite of you—and she made fun of Anton any chance she got—but she was nice. She was the only popular kid that actually seemed to engage with people from other cliques.

But Anton already knew that it was you and him against the world. He didn’t know why his mother implemented a rule that the door had to be open when you two are in his room. Anton was confused by all this because one day his parents viewed you as his one and only friend and the next day you were viewed as a girl that he could possibly be romantically involved with. 

The way his parents acted around you made Anton look at you differently. He came to the conclusion that you were still the same, you still wore your baggy clothes and cursed almost every sentence and listened to the same music you always have. Anton had to tell his parents that you were still the same girl—and you were still only friends—even if you were seemingly getting prettier by the day. He had the moment of clarity when you two were in this exact position, where you were looking up at him asking what the answer was to a question on science homework. He came to the conclusion that him seeing you in a different light was based on technicality. Even if there was that girl on his swim team that asked him to the formal it made sense that you would be the subject of Anton’s dreams because you were always together. 

But maybe it was the chair. Both of you assumed that Anton’s mom realized how ridiculous she was being, and that there was nothing her responsible son and his unassuming friend would do. She was also trying really hard to get you both to come with her to the store, but once you both lamented how responsible you were trying to be studying for an exam she left you be. She wrangled Junyoung instead to be her companion on the trip grocery store run, said a prayer, and then left. 

With just you, Anton, and the CD playing in his room it was quiet. You mentioned the kissing or something to hide the fact it was all you ever thought about. Being left alone with him was harder these days. After your garage band was dissolved because Eunseok was visiting his grandparents for the rest of the month there was an extremely different air surrounding you two. Being partners for class projects was one thing, being alone in his room in an empty house was another.

There was no segue into you two kissing. One moment you were asking about that girl on Anton’s swim team and he was asking you about the boy from your English class. You told him that he was just a boy and Anton said she was just a girl. There was a stare that lasted too long and you holding your pencil so hard in your hand you thought it would break. When the silence became too much you reached forward, planting a kiss on the corner of Anton’s mouth. He hesitated, then he reciprocated, trig homework still bunched in his lap. 

The kisses started off slow and awkward, neither of you knowing exactly what to do with all of eachother.  The very act of crawling into Anton’s lap was humiliating for some reason, the sound of the notebooks and assignments being pushed to the side was embarrassing. Anton’s perpetually dry lips pressing to yours was slow, the overwhelming anticipation made first contact just feel like a regular touch. Anton was too nervous to ask you if you wanted to stop, and that was good because you were too embarrassed to tell him to do it again. Anton just silently stretched his legs fully until they pressed into the beanbag and he pulled you fully onto him, basically cradling you. 

Lack of communication made you two just slip through the motions. You both just continued pressing your lips against eachothers while your faces heated up from embarrassment until contact started feeling like something more. You think it changed when Anton tilted his head slightly to one side and wet his lips. When he went back in after that it made you tilt your head to the other side, and then it felt like something was actually happening. Anton’s hand that kept you still on his lap went to your head when it was obvious you weren’t going anywhere. You felt his hands grip the back of your neck. 

The hesitation from Anton to go into your hair made you gain your bearings long enough to finally create some distance. Anton’s hands left your body completely the second you moved, and you stood up immediately. You were dizzy from moving too quick and the view of Anton from above. His lips already looked different, plump from constant contact and wet from your shared spit. His tongue was peaking out before he let it go back into his mouth. His hands were pressed into the ground on either side of his body, and he looked so cramped in the small space between his bed and the wall. You looked from him to the recliner, trying to calm your racing heart. Each time you looked back to Anton he was already looking up at you, eyes wide and not moving an inch.  

You two should’ve definitely talk about whatever was happening. Silence has served the both of you well up to this point. Anton started moving slowly backwards until he could sit in the recliner. It rocked back from his weight when he reached for his sweater, and Anton kept his fingers there. He didn’t move fully until he saw you kick off your slippers and reach for the button on your cargo pants.

Anton’s mom was currently shopping, Junyoung went with her because you and Anton needed to focus on studying for the Trigonometry exam in two days. Instead you two were engaged in a silent standoff, one staring at the other while you tried to figure out what to do next.

Anton moved first. When his room got too dark from the evening he reached to his bedside table quickly, pulling the string on his Yoshitomo Nara table lamp to light the area. Your bare thighs were suddenly illuminated, your body casting a shadow on the wall behind you. Your cargo pants were bunched behind you, leaving you in your stripped crew socks and your baggy shirts that left too much to the imagination. When Anton turned on the light he realized he could be seen clearly too. He hoped he looked good sitting on the recliner in front of you. Like a boyish Adam Yauch or another rockstar you were always talking to him about.

You moved second. You don’t count the tremor that wracked through your body but you counted your hands finally leaving your sides to reach for your waist instead. You looked from Anton’s face to his hands, you watched them clench as you tried willing yourself to loosen up. You were supposed to be calmer than Anton was. You were supposed to be breaking through the tension with a joke at Anton’s expense and he was supposed to laugh to lighten the mood. But both of you were silent, trying to suppress the clues that you simultaneously panicking. 

You let out a deep breath, and another shake that was hidden underneath your layers of shirts. Your hands went to the waistband of your underwear, fingers going underneath the wrap around the elastic waistband. You’ve done this a million times, the setting and the audience were different but the motions were the same. You repeated that to herself over and over as you pulled your panties down, until you had to bend over to get them the rest of the way. 

When you came back up Anton’s hands were no longer balled up on top of his thighs. They were gripping the armrest now, and he was getting that leg bounce you always teased him for. You didn’t say anything this time because you watched him try to stop it. He wiped his hands on his legs until he reached his knee. He grasped around the joint and held tight until his knuckles became white. 

You had a handful of your underwear with cherries on it, still not taking a step towards him. That table lamp was expensive but it was never very bright. You thought about what Anton could see, if his eyes kept on darting down to her your because he didn’t like what he was seeing or because he couldn’t see it at all. 

You stepped forward and Anton leaned back into his seat. You took another step and he leaned forward. The third step left him awkwardly between the two positions, and his leg started bouncing again. You did feel bad, like you were playing with him without meaning to. You and Anton had built up a rapport centered around you lightly bullying him and him taking it. You couldn’t remember the last time you two were in complete silence like this, or when you two were so sincere and so lost. But this was cruel for you too, because up until twenty minutes ago you thought that Anton wasn’t interested in you at all. Now you’re walking towards him thinking about how this could ruin your friendship forever, or if he became your friend solely at the prospect of getting in your pants. You knew the situation was unlikely because Anton was your friend when you didn’t want to be kind to yourself, but the more you think about it the more it makes sense why there’s so much hesitation.

You’re in front of the recliner now. Anton pulled his legs together until his knees touched, making his large body small so you could have the most space possible. It was a kind gesture, but you were too busy being completely silent to acknowledge it. Anton looked between your legs up to your face, leaning back so much the chair tilted back with him. You casted a shadow on his face, but you could still make up the way he was looking at you through it. He offered his hands on the armrest of the recliner, giving you a place of stability if you wanted to take it further. Anton only looked at your chest in passing, not pressing further even if all you focused on was the center of his white shirt. He leaned forward to take the shirt off too, tossing it in the same place his sweatshirt was. 

Anton let out the smallest tremor. You looked at his silver necklace first, too afraid to look at his toned stomach. You could only get the courage to look at his broad chest, the way he looked against the back of the recliner. You had your hands on his shoulders when he pulled you onto his lap but looking at them now doesn’t make sense. You had seen the pictures of him with his shirt off, you’ve been to his swim meets before. Seeing him like this with no one else there was different. You couldn’t believe that this was the same guy who was lanky and bumping into everything the first time you met. This was a social outcast like you, someone who stayed in swim and orchestra because he wouldn’t have friends any other way. The same one who burned CD’s of nerd rock bands and idolized his father too much. 

When Anton’s hand that was on the armrest went palms up you quickly put your underwear there. He was surprised, taking his attention away from your face to his hand. His hand went rigid underneath the fabric and Anton was still staring at it, he didn’t move until your hands went to his shoulders for leverage. Like he couldn’t touch you with the hand holding your panties his other went to you, stabilizing you as you straddled his lap on the creaky recliner. 

For a moment it’s just you and Anton like that. Chest to chest, you hovering above his lap. Your eye level with him for what feels like the first time in your life, and the least amount of clothes separates the two of you. Even if you have on an undershirt, a long sleeve, and a band tee on it feels like your bare against Anton’s chest. Your hands stay on his shoulder and his arm stays on the lowest part of your waist that’s covered by clothes. His other hand closes around your underwear.

“I like that band.” 

Anton said it still looking into your eyes. You looked down like you didn’t know what shirt you were wearing. You and Anton actually went to the show together, you both forgot earplugs so you spent a portion of the opening act stuffing toilet paper into eachothers ears. 

You should've reminded him of that moment like he would've forgotten what you looked like looking up at him with worrying vocalizing concerns about toilet paper becoming permanently stuck in your ear. But instead you played with the chipping leather on the seat and nodded your head.

“I like them too.” You respond.

Another chance to talk about what’s happening dissolves in the air as you two settle into another bout of silence. Anton brings your underwear into your line of sight, a silent offering that for a split second you think is rejection. When you take it back you try to get off of him, but instantly both of his hands are on your waist keeping you in place. 

He experiments, letting his hands slide further and further down until his hands are on your bare skin underneath all your shirts. Your skin is flaming and his hands feel like ice, you stiffen and Anton gets a better grip on you. You’re in the palm of his hands and your underwear is wedged between his shoulder blade and your hand. He keeps eye contact with you and applies the lightest force downwards. You give in immediately, and you feel the area you couldn’t bring yourself to look at before. Anton’s bulge is hard against your bare cunt, your combined heat overwhelms you. Already you can feel sweat lining your body underneath your shirts, and you can feel embarrassing wetness seep from you onto his boxers. 

There’s barely anything separating the two of you. All Anton would have to do is pull down his waistband or reach into the fly of his boxers and pull himself out. Maybe he shouldn’t. You always imagined you’d lose your virginity in college when you'd miraculously become hot enough to bang, or when you got married and someone was contractually obligated to find you sexy. Everyone else in your grade seemed to be doing this but you and Anton prided yourselves on being different. You didn’t not imagine losing it to him, he was the first real boy that you ever thought about kissing when he got really handsome over the summer two years ago. But this seemed wrong, like you were doing this wrong. Even if it felt so good that your combined slick and his precum made the thin layer of his boxers wet, this felt wrong. Feeling the ridge of Anton’s dick shouldn’t feel so nice, and you shouldn’t want more. The anticipation shouldn’t feel so nice that nothing feels like it will be enough.

Even if you’ve convinced yourself that this is all wrong, you still drag your hips forward in the smallest motion. Suddenly the creaking from the recliner while you two were trying to find a comfortable position stops. The silence is so loud, it somehow overpowers the music playing in Anton’s room. His hands freeze on your waist, your blunt nails dig into his shoulder. You look down at where you two almost are so close to meeting. You can see the discoloration on his boxers, and if you really focus you can see yourself glistening. When you glance up quickly Anton is looking down too, even if his hands on your hip are still unmoving. He doesn’t look up from your hips, and then you grind against him again.

The third time you drag your hips on his is when the first sound leaves his lips. A quiet moan, a quick sound that’s almost muffled by his closed lips. You focus on Anton’s neck, watching his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. His hands dig a little more into your waist, and you drag your hips again. Without looking at Anton you move forward slowly, until your chin is resting in the crook of his neck. You have enough leverage now to apply more pressure, dragging your bare cunt on his clothed dick.

His hand left your hip when you let your first sound slip out. He went to pressing his hand to your lower back, then as though he was waiting for you first more sounds of his own started slipping out. You stayed focused on his Adam’s apple, the way it moves in his throat with each sound. You’re driven by watching it move, you purposefully drag your hips rougher against his, just to see the movement.

“Oh my God.” Anton’s hand creeps up under your shirt until you can feel his large hand pressed between your shoulder. “That feels so good.” 

Anton’s voice is barely above a whisper. He does better than you, because you’re still completely silent, only nodding as you drag your hips on his again. 

Beyond Anton’s comment that floated around in his cluttered room, you two went back to being silent. Just pitiful noises swapped between the two of you, trying to be silent while also seeing what the other liked. Anton gripped you a little tighter when you whimpered and your lips would press against his neck, and you liked feeling his moans ring through his chest. 

“Should I—“ Anton moved, trying to offer something that got stuck in his throat “Do you want me to—”

The gesture towards your exposed bottom half made you shake your head on instinct. When you tried to pause his hand over your shirt kept you moving, tiny swivels against him. You were making a mess on his boxers, grinding on him like a dog in heat. You never heard about this being so embarrassing. You know it’s painfully obvious you’ve never been touched this way before. 

“I hear it helps.” Anton’s fingers dig into your shirt when you pause again. “And I’ll try to make it feel good for you.”

Anton’s hand is already drifting down when you nod your head. He leaves your waist and settles between your legs, cramming his long fingers through the space where your hips meet. Both of you let out a sigh at the same time, even when it’s just his inexperienced hand bumping into your clit. You still coat his fingers and he repeats the same awkward motion.

“You’re so wet.” Anton whispers. 

You say sorry even though you've never apologized for anything in your life. You sound so sincere it makes Anton shake his head.

"Don't apologize." He says quickly, repeating the motion.

He lifts his head from the recliner to look down, watching his fingers disappear as you continue your tiny grinds. He experiments with you. He scissors his fingers against your folds, he pushes a finger between them and glides down. He is operating off terrible guesswork and the sounds you make, when you try to stifle something by biting your lip or shaking your head slightly. 

You know Anton wants you to tell him what to do. At some point his gaze moved to the side of your face, intense and burning while he continued doing something with his fingers. You were figuring it out too, what you liked. Bossing Anton around was easier in different circumstances, but now he was beginning to pout when nothing he was doing was working. When you hear a whimper bubbling in his throat you take a chance, leaving your crumpled panties draped over his shoulder to drop your hand down.

You press two fingers to your clit and look at Anton’s chest, trying to find that place in your room on top of your bed where you did this the most. 

“Like this.” 

You say it quietly, soft motions that make you bump and grind on his hand. He keeps his hand still for you, and you continue grinding on the side of his hand. The slick sound replaces the silence in the room, only interrupted by the sound of your bodies moving on top of the fraying cushion.

Anton watches you for a moment, nodding like he’s the one touching your clit. You have to give him some credit, because he’s takes the leap to reach his hand from your waist to replace your fingers with his. 

You don’t know how to deal with the fact that Anton is bringing you pleasure like this. There’s something that creeps on you, burning on your cheeks as you start huffing into Anton’s neck. He tries his best to make it feel good for you, and he does it well. He’s attentive, learns too fast and continues to go when your hands would’ve started cramping. 

“Ton.” You whimper.

“Am I doing it right?” He asks. 

You grind on Anton’s hand and the other works your clit. You’ve never felt the extent of stimulation like this, grinding on something desperately while having another thing on your clit. There’s also never been someone but yourself doing this for you. 

The more you pathetically grind on Anton’s hand the hotter your cheeks feel, and then you feel sweat lining your body underneath your shirts.

You know something else is going to happen when Anton gets quiet again. He’s too nervous to ask what to do next and you’re too busy chasing after something to tell him. But you feel his hand go to your ass to lift you, and his hand that was on your clit goes further and further down until he presses into your entrance. 

Your fingers take him in too fast. You sigh into his neck, and your hands move to press into Anton’s chest. Your underwear is caught between your hand and his body, the wrinkled fabric against him.

You start grinding against his fingers inside of you. With your chest heaving you pull away from Anton’s neck, trying your best to hide how scared you are to look up at him. You find comfort in the fact that his cheeks are flushed and tinted red too, and that sweat is making hair stick to his forehead. You find enough courage to look at Anton directly, and you chase after that feeling you were trying to suppress. 

Anton is pressed into the recliner watching you bounce on his fingers. He keeps his fingers the same for you, not daring to move an inch while he watches you. His chest is heaving watching you. How far gone Anton is could be bizarre, but you’ve been in similarly gone thinking about him in this situation. His fingers feel just as good as you thought they would, and he’s so insistent on getting you somewhere he’s silent, not saying a word so he can focus completely on you.

“I can handle it.” You say it quickly. The first time you feel Anton’s fingers move inside of you is when your words register. Now it’s you reaching for Anton’s dick, an unsteady hand sticking right through the fly in his boxers. When you feel him heavy and sticky in your hands you pulse around his fingers “Let’s do it.” 

“Are you sure?” Anton asks the question purely on technicality. Both of you have already made it this far, not thinking about the consequences. You don’t even know what you’re sure of, besides the fact that Anton is twitching in your hand and a sigh racks through his entire body when you pull him out through his boxers.

There’s only hesitation when you felt Antons’ tip prod your entrance. You held onto his shoulders tight, keeping yourself suspended above him. The music stopped at some point, leaving you two with the creaky wood and springs in the recliner and your tense breathing.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” Anton says it like you haven’t spent almost everyday after school at his house for the past three years. His hand is still holding the base of his dick, his bicep flexing with each moment. You sink just a little deeper. His fingers couldn’t compare to this, because you’ve already felt yourself seize up again and Anton is letting out a tense breath at how tight you already feel. “But if you want me to stop, just say so.” 

“I want to keep going.” You say it, but you still are in the same place above his dick. Feeling his tip makes you lightheaded, and having him wait for you to move makes you want to crumble into him again. You can feel Anton let out a choked gasp when you sink a little further. You’ve made it past his tip, swollen and twitching inside of you when you retreat back to his neck. “Help me the rest of the way.”

You feel his head nod against yours, and then you feel his hand leave between your two bodies to wrap around your waist instead. He readjusts his grip on you, and you can feel your soft skin peaking through the space in his fingers. Anton has felt your frame underneath your layers of clothes, you feel tiny compared to him. You feel weak too, because Anton starts pulling you down slowly on top of him.

“Try to relax.” Anton croaks into your ear when you seize around him. “You’re too tight.”

Selfishly, you start making loud noises in Anton’s ear to try and relieve some of the pressure. He lets out a strained sound back to you, slowly working you down the rest of the way. He’s too big, the stretching from his large fingers did nothing to stretch you out. He’s a tight fit, and you’re getting tighter the more you think about how there’s somehow more of him to go.

Just before you curse into his ear, you feel yourself sitting on his lap. Anton is fully inside of you. Your hands are pressed to his chest and you feel like your body is melding into the recliner. Anton’s hands on your waist twitch and grasp at you. When you seize around him Anton pitches forward head hung low. You can see him scrunch his face, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration. You get used to him fast. From the very beginning you wanted more, and when your nails dig into his shoulder you finally get enough leverage to lift yourself on his lap.

Anton pulls in a deep breath fast and holds it. You do all the work, going up as high and you can before you can drop again. You repeat the motion, waiting for Anton to bring up his hanging head or to make a sound. He seems so helpless, almost shaking his head as his hands on your hips gets more desperate. You want to pull his head up manually so he has to look at you, but you can’t bring yourself to say a word. You grind on him when you sink fully down, feeling him writhe in your gut. You start hanging your head too, unable to find the strength to lift yourself up again.

Despite begging inwardly for Anton to lift your head, when he finally finds the strength to do it, you press your cheek to his. Physically touching is the contact you need, and not being able to see his face keeps you from burning up. The contact was what Anton needed to, because when your flushed cheeks smushed together he let moans slip from his parted lips louder. You were whimpering against his cheek, looking out the window behind the recliner to his yard. 

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Anton whispered it directly in your ear, fanning the side of your face with his quick breath. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling your clothed body against his bare chest. Your hands move to the back to the recliner and it tips backwards from the added weight. “I’ve—I’ve thought about this for so long.” He adds.

Over the top of the recliner you could see the backyard. During that summer before Anton’s dad cleared out the garage your band used to play there. You never would’ve thought that being in the backyard would lead you hear. The recliner creaks when Anton’s hand move underneath your ass, lifting you up slightly to bring you down. 

“I’ve thought about this too.” You say it even quieter than Anton did, nodding your head against his. His skin is so soft against yours, you keep moving your head just to feel his skin catch on yours. You start working with his strength to lift yourself on your knees.

The rhythm you and Anton build up is messy. The inclination of knowing music is out the window, the two of you lack pattern chasing after something. Anton can’t figure out if he wants to hold you tight by your waist or keep a tight grip on your ass. You can’t will away the burn working in your thighs, and you can’t work with the small space you have on the recliner. The chair tilts back and forth, screaming from the extra weight. 

The louder you and Anton get the louder the recliner gets too. When you curse and say tell Anton that you’re close the chair is almost louder than you.

“I think I’m close too.” Anton’s hand works up your back, ending with his large hand over the back of your neck. He squeezes and your body reacts by squeezing him tight. You make Anton’s next moan come out strained, his sentence is cut off when he experimentally squeezes the back of your neck again. “Does that feel good?”

You know his question comes from a genuine place of worry. He’s had a reputation of being so gentle with you it was unbearable at times. You wore baggy clothes and hung out with the boys in an effort of becoming one of them. Everyone seemed to know that except for Anton, always treating you like you were liable to break. Even when you know he wants to continue chasing after that feeling and bring you down on his dick faster he’s gentle, letting you set the pace and just helping you when your legs fail. He clenches the back of your neck a third time, and it feels like his concerns become dirty talk. You want him to ask you if he’s too big for you in that same worried tone, or too ask you if you’re sure you’re close. 

“Feels good Anton.” The chair continues to creak underneath you too. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on one thing. He’s unknowingly overstimulating, despite the fact that he’s quiet and gentle with you. You’re filling in the gaps, letting your imagination run beyond you two and this recliner. You think about your shared time together as friends, like the moment at the rock show when Anton’s hand gripped you the same way they do now. Like he doesn’t want to let go of you, like you’re his and he’s yours. “I’m really close.”

“Can I look at you?” 

Anton asks the question in between the recliner creaking and him bringing you back down on his twitching dick. He offers you the chance to ignore him, but you’re slowly nodding your head against his again.

With the gentle grip on the back of your neck Anton brings your face away from his. The split second you summon your remaining courage, following his gentle pull. You’re face to face with Anton. The recliner seems to get a little quieter, both of your hips falter when you make eye contact. Anton’s pupils are blown wide, his lips are parted and swollen. You see his tongue peak out, running over that place he always touches with his fingers. His hair falls in front of his face, bangs almost covering his eyes completely. You push his bangs out of the way quickly, both of your hands still cradling his face. You run your thumb over his cheek for a moment and Anton’s hand kneads your skin.

The second time you go in to kiss Anton is different from the first. Instead of closing your eyes and lurching forward it’s deliberate. You keep your eyes open until Anton closes his, squeezing his cheeks a little harder when you finally feel his lips press to yours.

Anton’s hand on the back of your neck moves to your face. You’re tilting your head and then he’s tilting it for you. You can hear your lips moving against eachother, then the feeling of his tongue poking your bottom lip. You open your mouth slow, and then it’s Anton’s tongue pressing flat against yours. You curve your tongue and mix spit, overextending the gap in your mouth to get a better taste. 

The action is messy, Your spit is smeared along the perimeter of Anton’s mouth when you start riding him again. It’s a simple motion, that’s closer to grinding than actually fucking yourself. But it’s enough to get Anton to hold your face still and separate your lips from his. Anton brings your head together until your foreheads touch. He’s breathing heavily as you continue grinding against his lap, just repeating the small motion. You can feel Anton’s body bumping into your clit, and you hear his breathing turn into his chest heaving. 

You don’t stop grinding, you open your eyes and see Anton looking through half-lidded eyes right back at you. You whimper and continue grinding, and one of his hand’s leaves your face to hold your ass. He speeds up your hips, and you hear the terrible creak in the recliner. You’re sure something will give out any minute, and right before the chair can rock all the way back Anton freezes underneath you. His words are caught in his throat, you think you hear him curse for the first time in your life before he leans his entire body against the back of the recliner. You continue riding him, and both of you become louder than the recliner. You’re cursing back at Anton, digging your nails into his skin and balling up your underwear in the palm of your hand. 

“Baby.” Anton moans, pathetic and loud. He projects towards the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut. His grip on your waist is bruising, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Your moans turn into loud grunts, and your grinds turn into flicks against his skin. “Too much. Too much.” He whines.

You nod your head quickly, flicking your hips three times before you finally feel relief. You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding, and your whole body starts to collapse. You heave out each breath, your chest shaking. You have to breathe in deep to center yourself, and you seize around him each time you try to ground yourself. Anton is shaking his head against the back of the recliner. With each breath you get closer and closer to Anton, until your chest is pressing against his and his arms wrap around you to pull you in for a hug. 

When you move again Anton hisses right in your ear. You playfully grind against him again, and Anton weakly lifts you up until his dick slides out of you. He’s still half hard, landing against his stomach with a wet slap. He lets you lay back down on him, and you shiver when your bare cunt rests on his dick.

You’re laying against Anton’s chest for awhile. You can hear his heart rate finally start to slow down. His hand creeps underneath your layer of shirts, rubbing his hand on your bare back. Like it’s the most intimate thing you’ve done in the past hour he’s awkward, only continuing the massaging motion when you sigh contently against him.

Your shared sweat starts mixing with Anton’s welding you both to the peeling vinyl. You already feel disgusting against underneath your shirts, and the cold sweat from Anton that seeps through to you.

“Your mom will be back soon.” You murmur. 

You feel warmth seep out of you and you shiver again. You hum against his chest, feeling your eyelids get heavy.

Anton’s mom came through the door with Junyoung behind her. He had a handful of grocery bags, walking past her to go to the kitchen. She was busy standing on her tiptoes, and the moment she saw the closed door to Anton’s room her heart dropped. Junyoung was already going back outside to get the groceries when she said out loud she was going to get Anton.

Up the stairs she was contemplating on what to do Should she stomp up the stairs a little louder to give you two fair warning? Should she sneak up and try to catch you two in the act? Junyoung came back inside with more bags in his hands. He complained about wanting help before going back out, whispering under his breath that he was leaving the heavy stuff for Anton. 

His mom cleared the stairs and walked across the landing to her sons door. She held her head to the door first, trying to pick up on anything. At the sound of the recliner creaking loudly she knocked and opened the door in one go, preparing for the worst.

When she opened the door she found Anton in the recliner, in his white shirt and sweatpants. He was alone in the room, looking up from his assignment to his mother standing in the doorframe. Anton stopped rocking in the chair, the loud creaking coming to an end. She scanned the room quickly, trying to remember the reason why she came up here.

“She had to go home before it got to dark.” Anton said, answering her question.

“I’m making dinner, I would’ve given her a ride home.” 

Anton shrugs, clutching something in his hand. She sees that his pencil is on his bedside table. She really shouldn’t press the issue any further. She already stormed into her son’s room expecting to catch him in the act. She’s guilty, she lets go of the doorknob and almost turns around without saying another word. She sees Junyoung come inside again, more bags of food clutched in his hand. 

“Can you help your brother with the groceries?” She trades the order for a suggestion, trying to compensate for the intrusion in her room. Anton nods and shifts in the recliner, causing it to creak. He looks back down to his paper. “Whenever you finish what you’re working on.” She adds quickly.

“No it’s okay, I was done anyways. I’ll be down in a little bit.” Anton says and gets up from his chair. She leaves the room completely, her husband saying she needs to leave her son alone playing in her mind again and again. 

When his mom leaves the room he turns around to face towards the chair. He looks out the chair behind the window, looking at his backyard to where you climbed your bike to pedal back home. He insisted that you stay, but you seemed really adamant on leaving saying you had to be home at a certain time. When Anton hears his mom make her way down the stairs he looks down to his clenched fist. He really wanted you to stay, and the only thing that convinced him he didn’t do something wrong was your parting gif. Anton opens up his hand to see your crumpled pair of underwear expand in his palm. He sighs and clutches it again before opening the top drawer of his bedside table and putting it inside. He closes the drawer and sighs again, turning off his lamp to help with the groceries. 

[loozerboykisser]

voltron as dumb things me and my friends have said part one out of ?

TW DRUG REFRENCES, SWEARING, SUGGESTIVE

hunk: wow you’re so beautiful you look like you’re from the rain of sauce

shay: … renaissance. You mean the renaissance.

.

keith: someone told me I’m toxic :( are they right

lance: idk probably

.

Hunk: wyd

lance: pooping

hunk: haha sure buddy

lance: no like legitimately I am fighting for my life out here

.

Lance: i’m going to fuck you so hard you see god and your liver does the chacha slide

.

Allura: shiro just said he sleeps with socks on…

keith: tell him to say his goodbyes

.

coran, to keith: wya twink ass bitch ass whore :3

.

Shiro: hey wya

keith: haha sorry I’m not here today

keith: my lungs sorta aren’t working

keith: hospital maxxing

.

Pidge: wait how the fuck did I get into this guys account

Lance: OOH DUDE THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO FUCK SOME SHIT UP

pidge: indeed… *opens a google doc, writes: “get better at signing out”*

Lance: ….

lance: I am so proud

.

Shiro: i think that maybe… maybe if I didn’t love allura I’d just be with a man.

Lance: no wayyyy I’m so shocked that’s insane.

.

Keith: you’re… so beautiful

Lance: oooh you think im gorgeoussssss

Keith: stop

Lance: you wanna kisssssss me

Lance: you wanna huuuuuug me

.

Keith: i kinda… uh… like. You. I guess.

Lance: chat is this rizz

.

Coran: i turned around for two minutes and uou guys are already making out

Coran: ewww stawppp

.

Lance: current status: hawk tuah-ing 💦

.

Matt: that happened?? I don’t remember that

Matt: god I smoke too much weed

.

Allura, pointing at Keith, Lance and Hunk in a circle: what are they doing?

Pidge: haha probably drugs

Pidge: oh shit fuck look away they’re actually doing drugs

.

Hunk: i just found a lollipop

Pidge: yeah?

Hunk: ywah I ate it but it had white powder on it

Pidge:

Hunk: i found it on the ground

.

Lance: i dont feel very sigma rn… *fucking passes out*

.

Pidge: sorry I’m late I was ranting to my teacher

.

Lance, in a weezer shirt: the fit is hardddd 🔥🔥

Keith: yeah hard to look at

Lance: okay first of all how dare you

.

Lance: “ladies, ladies,” I say knowing damn well nobody wants me

[sturniclos]

Y'all... thinking ab a haikyuu band au rn

The crows

Kags

Hinata

Tsukki

Yam

Reader ?

Desc. 

Loser. Like weezer and radiohead and everything awful but they’re kind of bangers

So rock/ alternative rock

Also includes depeche mode, fleetwood mac (?), the strokes, foo fighters, red hot chili peppers, the cure

Male manipulator music at it’s core

Kageyama is the main vocalist and guitarist, Hinata is on drums, Tsukki plays bass and Yams is backup guitarist

Kageyama can essentially play any instrument naturally

Tsukki is extremely talented in guitar as well but likes the ease and flow of bass (he’s lazy)

Yams is occasionally backup vocals with hinata cause they can hit high notes

Tsukki doesn’t interact with any press and it’s kind of just accepted at this point

Do NOT expect them to be fitted up. Baggy jeans, sneakers and a hoodie or a t-shirt and flannel- fits are kind of fye but overall still pretty casual (if one of them is feeling crazy they might throw in a hat or necklace.

All have a small tattoo related to the band- lowkey sentimental about it

Koneko 

Kuroo

Kenma

Akaashi

Bokuto

Konoha

Desc.

Emo as fuck.

I know a lot of these bands aren’t emo but it’s an overall alternative/yearning vibe okay. Kuroo and Kenma sing and look so pathetic

Think deftones, MCR, fall out boy, paramore, Evanescence

Bokuto loves doing liberty spikes and Akaashi does the overall molding and Kuroo does finishing touch-ups. 

They do each other's makeup. All of them will have eyeliner streaming down their face by the end of the performance

Kenma surprisingly does really well during interviews as long as people aren’t taking pictures, otherwise everyone else interacts pretty well with press (save for when Kuroo and Bokuto got shitfaced and kissed one time) 

Kenma and Konoha occasionally sport black lipstick if they feel like it

Always has chipped nail polish 

Kuroo has an arm sleeve he’s working on and Bokuto has some on his thigh as well as as two eyebrow piercings and a bridge

johsai

Iwa

Oikawa

Mattsun

Maki

Desc.

I honestly had a hard time figuring this out but think l=Odd future??

Vv diff from the other two bands, they’re more of a group??

Oikawa main vocals and iwa and mattsun rap (self indulgent but lowk this all is)

Makki is the main producer/composer but Oikawa also helps, they work around whatever Iwa and Mattsun come up with after an initial sample

Fits are sooooo hard. Their PR deals and promos are insane

Oikawa loooooves the man baby tee with a slutty belt and baggy jeans. Normally wears a regular rotation of his favorite jewelry pieces

Iwa and mattsun lean more towards baggy clothing, where Makki likes to occasionally wear makeup and has a more simple style (kinda like frank ocean, simple silhouettes and clean lines + detail) 

Iwa very rarely takes his shirt off on the stage (there’s only one song he really needa be doing allat

Mattsun is most followed on instagram and it makes Oikawa sooooo mad.

Iwa normally wears a beanie everywhere but his hiair isn’t a secret. One time he did the blonde buzz and he looked soooo good when it grew out a little bit

Haikyuu renaissance let's flipping go!! I've been rewatching the series and rereading the manga lately and I forgot how happy this show made me.

[imsososolesbian]

Who do you think the yellowjackets favourite music artists would be?

Okay I had to sleep on this, but I finally have some answers. I based it mostly around the teen timeline.

Now I’m just going to start out easy with three I think I have a good grasp on.

Laura Lee- Dolly Parton. Now this isn’t me just saying this because Laura Lee is my favourite character and Dolly Parton is my favourite artist. No it’s because the mix of music, some romance, some religion, some family.

Pretty sure it’s cannon that Shauna likes Weezer. So I’d say she likes rock. Honestly not sure of any other bands like Weezer. But I know they toured with the Pixies at one point. So I guess those two?

I think adult Nat wore a pixies shirt at one point if I’m not mistaken. Now, I’m inclined to keep that, because I in fact love the pixies, but I’ll also say Modest Mouse, because they toured with the pixies, I want to say last year.

Jackie- She gives me like pop vibes, so I’ll give her Cher.

Lottie- Honestly probably the same as Jackie. I haven’t really analyzed her enough to have a solid read on her, but I feel like pop would fit. Going to say Kate Bush.

Taissa- Not really to sure. Maybe some classical like Mozart? But also like maybe something like Sublime or something. Van probably got her into them. Maybe Olivia Newton John?

Van- Honestly, probably likes a mix of everything. I’m thinking missy Elliott. Because of that Super Fly song. Maybe some rock? Honestly it’s 7 in the morning and I can’t really think.

Misty- Cast of phantom of The opera

Honestly this is probably shit, but I hope this is what you were looking for, and if you want a better one k could try my hand at it. It’s very early for me as of now so I can’t really think.

[emo-band-recommendations]

Wait, MCR stopped being emo after their first two albums? I'd certainly make no argument for Danger Days, but why wouldn't The Black Parade be considered emo? I'm personally a bit genre-deaf so I wouldn't just trust my own perception, but Wikipedia gives TBP an emo genre label.

Okay so this is an interesting question actually!! Disclaimer: I fucking LOVE The Black Parade. I am wearing a TBP shirt and I am seeing Long Live The Black Parade in July. None of what I am saying is at all supposed to be negative in any way towards this album. I am saying everything I am saying with love towards this album. Yes, TBP absolutely has its place within the emo scene, but it is much more so emo adjacent than actually emo. It is a rock opera that was musically inspired by Queen and Pink Floyd (compared to their first two albums, which were inspired by mainly punk and emo bands). There are a few songs that have a little bit of emo influence, but it leans way more pop-punk and alt rock, and once again, is in general a rock opera more than anything else. It was a well loved album by people in the emo scene, but wasn't itself emo. Kind of similar to Pinkerton by Weezer. Also I would not use Wikipedia as a source for band/album genres on its own, it's just not very accurate a lot of the time. r/emo (yes, I know, Reddit generally sucks but trust me on this one) is a pretty good source oddly enough, as it is the largest emo community that actually focuses primarily on the music itself that I have found. You can also occasionally find other forums or random news article and stuff like that talking about it. Hope this explains things?

[klapollo]

Though I will say something VERY strange about modern hot topic is that there is a massive glut of melanie martinez merch. I'm not kidding. If you go into a hot topic in the year 2025 it is virtually guaranteed they will have at least ONE DOZEN melanie martinez shirts alone. This isn't getting into the bracelets, posters, and other miscellaneous merchandise. I counted about 14 tee shirts at a local mall recently.

For reference, a well established rock band like weezer or green day will usually have two, three max. I've seen stores that have display walls that are almost entirely Melanie. What I don't get is that this is in 2025. Crybaby was almost ten years ago. Portals, which came out two years ago makes up at least half the merch, did not even get gold certification domestically. Sabrina Carpenter, who is a certifiable it girl of the moment, has like two shirts.

All this to say: how? Why?

[antlrquxen]

STAN & KYLE HEADCANONS !!! :3

no one suggested it , i just simply wanted too lolz

stan: 

Had a short mullet in 8th-9th grade but dyes it blond over the summer out of nowhere lol. dyes it back to black his senior year

Listens to RADIOHEAD!!??

Plays the electric guitar 

Still apart of crimson dawn along with kenny

Butters and jimmy stopped playing - due to other school shit - so they held tryouts for a backup guitar player and a new drumist, eventually recruiting two freshmen

RAGING bisexual

Been kinda in love with kyle his whole life

Got braces in the middle of 7th grade and got them taken off at the end of 8th

Kyle eventually got braces too at the BEGINNING of 8th so throughout the whole year, him and kyle definitely matched bracket colors <3

5’8’’ ( 2 inches shorter than kyle )

Always been just a tiny bit shorter than kyle and has ALWAYS despised it while kyle relished in it lmao

Had his first kiss to wendy in 6th grade …. it was NOT good and they broke up like a month later 

They never got back together again, much to kyle's pleasure :D

To clarify, they did not break up bc the kiss wasn’t good, they both just realized that they were tired of eachother and that it was stupid trying to hold onto something from literal elementary school

They still talk sometimes but quickly get bored of each other

His style consists of pajama pants, baggy band t shirts, baggy jeans, blue hoodies, and converse

He totally has stickers all over his guitar along with “ k + s “ drawn with in silver sharpie <3

Pins and keychains decorated his school backpack

Sometimes paints his nails but gets mad or anxious and ends up peeling them off by lunchtime

Has wrote 16 songs all dedicated to kyle

HATES social media and only has accounts so that he could look at kyles posts and videos

Still uses an mp3 player .... he SAYS it's bc it sounds better but that's a bunch of bs. he definitely just uses it for the “look”

PLAYS HOCKEY

Was on the team for about a year in 9th grade but QUICKLY got sick of the practices 

Listens to radiohead, slipknot, iron maiden, weezer, and deftones

Favorite movies/tv shows are bojack horseman, mid90s, and shameless

Tried to learn how to skateboard with kyle and actually kept up with it for about the whole 10th grade

REFUSES to get a tiktok account

he would probably watch youtube shorts or instagram reels...... 🤠

He would send Kyle tiktoks that were funny like 7 months ago which he JUST got to see on ig reels.

He definitely had a fnaf phase

has car sickness totally

TOTAL dog person

both:

their houses are right next to eachother !!!

they definitely sneak into eachother's rooms at night

they got together sometime in middle school, after kissing on stan's roof and they both discovered that they were major fags for eachother

they go to the same college too!!!!

stan always joins kyle's tiktok or insta lives ( even if it's the most boring thing in the world )

"no homo dude" "oh yeah totally no homo lol" is their catchphrase most definitely

kyle:

Stayed on the basketball team throughout 8th-12th grade

5’10’’ 2 inches taller than stan

He loves being taller than him

gay gay homosexual gay

Didn’t really have to “come out” everyone kinda already knew he wasn't straight lol 

Had a little rebellious phase in 10th grade and ended up stabbing a needle through his nose and belly button at like 4 in the morning, the same night that stan bleached his hair ironically (not ironically as they had snuck out together lmao )

By 7am he had a nose stud, a belly ring, and his lobes pierced

Did them all by himself minus his bellybutton, which stan helped him with

It was literally just the piercing scene from thirteen LMAOOOO

Wardrobe mainly consists of sweatpants, green and brown hoodies, straight jeans, nike's, and ugg neumels. oh and lots of grandpa sweaters.

Listens to the cure, tyler the creator, radiohead, the smiths, and the offspring (sometimes ldr too)

Stopped wearing his hat in 7th grade, it just didn’t fit right anymore ( plus it kinda stunk )

Reads romance novels and hyperfixates over them definitely but he will NEVER admit this

ALWAYS live on insta and tiktok

Secretly LOVES stan's dyed hair (he totally thinks its hot)

His first kiss was with stan. at 2 am. on his roof.

Total grammer nerd

bullies ppl when they make grammar mistakes

Lowkey kinda popular on tiktok

STRAIGHT A'S!!!!! 

and REFUSES to get anything below a 85

fucking nerd

OH and he definitely cusses WAY to much ( its kinda a problem )

Gets into so many fights at school (mainly caused by cartman) but has developed kinda a bad reputation for himself

has such road rage

lowkey best friends with bebe

thinks elvis is hot

LOVES adult cartoons

when sheila isn’t home, him, ike, and gerald watch family guy

TOTAL cat person

[birdietrait]

8, 12, 21 🎶

8. What's a song you enjoy from a show?

from the walking dead!!

12. Do you own any band merch? If so, what is it?

the only official merch i’ve ever owned was a p!atd jacket that i got when i was 11 😭 other than that i have a big thief shirt, and a beatles shirt from the 90s :0)

21. What's a song you always get stuck in your head?

these two have been in my head all the time lately

[dogboyklug]

ive had these guys for almost a year yet hadnt made refs until i remembered they didnt have refs. shame on me

if you want a ref sheet like these (or in any other style), my commissions are open! check em out on ko-fi [link] or see more examples of my art on toyhouse [link]

notes transcript is under the cut !!

transcript 1:

it's 'cause you're always wearing that damn paper bag

jammies cozy. he never wears anything more form-fitting than this.

suspenders follow [his] curves.

suspenders should go into pants but i like it like this.

shoes make him about five inches taller lmao

[lumpy is] more fashionable than every other member of the freelance police combined (obviously)

barely ever actually wears this [shirt], since he's always wearing his freelance police "uniform" or his Lawyer Suit:tm:

end transcript

transcript 2:

i personally like adding bits of red to the gradient of their hair but sometimes (as seen below) i go a lil overboard w/ it

their hair changes color every time i draw them, as does their skin color but i don't really mind since it's fun

they have tons of clothes but only like two pairs of shoes, which s prolly how they like it tbh

horns!!! usually brushes em down for work or walks

[pajama] shirt and pants are gifts from sam

god knows where they got those fucking weezer green socks

hair's messy and capable of hitting people in the face with large amounts of force

[caps] SMOOTHED [end caps]

tum looks bigger because skirt's a bit tight

absolutely does not need these platforms.

the only things that ever stay the same [between] his casual fits r his socks, his shoes, & the fact that they never rlly look that good

boobs mysteriously disappear when not working

hair's messy but also sorta styled

end transcript

[knight-of-flowerss]

Got from @gemini-mama (didn’t get tagged but it looked fun lol!)

ೃ⁀➷ hiii hi here’s just a random question form ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

: ̗̀➛what’s ur fav colour: Red!

: ̗̀➛how long have u been on tumblr for: uh maybe two years ish? Maybe longer? Idk i wasn’t active for a good while 😭

: ̗̀➛wheres a place u always wanted to travel to: Germany, Canada, etc lol

: ̗̀➛what’s ur fav clothing brand(s): uhhh idk tbh i just wear whatever i have from like twenty billion years ago 😭 but rn I’m wearing a shirt from my best friends grandad that they were gonna sell on vinted but i snagged first 😝 and it’s from George. I think??

: ̗̀➛what’s ur fav singer/band(s): Of Monsters and Men, Rob Zombie, Ikkimel, Ski Aggu, Joost, SALÒ, Chappell Roan, Elton John, Marvin Gaye, Lady Gaga, 3OH!3, Panic! At The Disco, The Chats, Amy Whinehouse, Lily Allen, Kings of Leon, Weezer, etc

: ̗̀➛what’s ur current phone lockscreen: A specially made artwork from .izyart on tik tok/ iizyart on insta of my oc, Odette Tully and Jacaerys Velaryon (Strong in the fic).

: ̗̀➛most recent/current hyperfixation: uhhhh probs Hayden Christensen 🕺 but also my writings from Cregan!!

: ̗̀➛what’s ur relationship status: single :/ (i just want a gf 😔😔 (maybe a bf, dudes are lowk kinda dookie rn (I’d only have one if it was Tom Taylor 🙏))

: ̗̀➛what’s ur dream job: Probs an actress or WWE wrestler :p

: ̗̀➛outside of tumblr, fav social app: Instagram cus i get to add all my feminist stuff and anti conservative stuff on my story and then some random pokemon shit on the next

: ̗̀➛do u have pets: yes!

: ̗̀➛if u do have pets, what kind/how many: Two dogs. (Used to have 4 but they died :<)

: ̗̀➛do u prefer tea or coffee: Tea. I HATE coffee 😭

: ̗̀➛whats ur fav ice cream flavour: fish food :0

No pressure tags:

@thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @cryinonthefloor553 @visenyablackwood

[ijustreallylikepirates]

So my Alenick fanfic kinda blew up a bit so I decided I was going to do a small continuation of it 👍🏻

So this is a little different from the first part. Just to warn yall: there’s a little more making out and swearing, but also subtle smut. Not too much, but if that’s not the kind of thing you read just scroll. Anyways I hope you enjoy this, thanks for reading and ily all!!! <3

So. My first date with Nick.

It was great, there was nothing I would change about it. We went out to dinner at this nice fancy restaurant. Nick paid. It was very expensive but he’s such a gentleman (and a rich kid) that he didn’t complain.

We were talking and laughing all night. Nick even threw a couple of dirty jokes my way and I maybe might have told him one or two myself.

But what blew me away about this night was seeing Nick in that dashing suit and tie he was wearing. I was just wearing a simple t-shirt with a cardigan pulled over it and my nicest pair of jeans I had.

When he first picked me up and I first saw him in that suit, I just froze and thought to myself, ‘Wow, he’s really hot.’

But enough about his suit. (But like the suit…) After dinner, I stupidly asked if he was going to drive me home or if I was gonna have to hoof it home.

He just laughed and said, “Why don’t you come back to my place and we can watch some movies together on my couch?”

I just smirked and said, “Sounds wonderful. Wasn’t really ready to end the night anyways, I was just afraid to ask for more of your time.”

Nick chuckled and opened the passenger side door of his blue ass car for me. “You’ll never take up too much of my time, Passenger Princess. Hop in.”

I sat my old ass on the car seat and he shut the car door, then he rounded around the car and got into the drivers seat. We drove home listening to old hits from the 90s, including old bands like Wham!, R.E.M, and Weezer. And trust me, you do not want to hear Nick when he listens to Say It Ain’t So.

When we got back to his house, he opened the car door for me like I was royalty. I mean, I was the passenger princess wasn’t I?

He unlocked the front door and gestured for me to go in. “Hot old men first.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “I’m literally 4 years older than you. I’m not that old.”

“You’re literally 30, old man,” he said, giggling as I walked through the door. He discreetly shut the door behind us.

I looked around his house. For a rich white man his house wasn’t very extravagant. It’s cozy and warm, which is the kind of house I like. I’m not looking for a rich man anyways. Just someone who will treat me right. Like Nick.

I walked over to his couch. I didn’t even notice he was following me until he came up behind me and slapped my ass.

I jumped and laughed. “Stop! Oh my God!” I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss, then threw him onto the couch.

The couch creaked loudly and he laughed. I threw myself on top of him and kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me harder.

Then I pushed off of him and said, “Let’s actually watch movies like we said we were and not make out again. We can save that for the library bathroom.”

Nick chuckled, then sat up. “You’re a dork.” He grabbed the TV remote and turned the TV on. “What do you wanna watch?”

I snatched the TV remote out of his hand and said, “Are you sure you want to let me pick the movie?”

Nick gave me a side eye and said, “Whatever you want, sexyback.”

I clicked a couple buttons on the remote and put on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I put the remote down on the couch, then looked over at Nick.

He was giving me a bored look.

I giggled and said, “What? I told you that you shouldn’t have let me pick the movie.”

Nick just laughed and said, “I’ll make it work.”

Nick stood up and walked behind the couch and opened a door, then disappeared inside the room. He came back out with a blue fleece blanket.

He sat back down next to me on the couch and draped the blanket over our legs. He pulled the ottoman over and pat the spot in front of me with his hand, then propped his feet up. I propped mine up next to his.

I turned my head to him and asked with a smile on my face, “Why are you treating me like royalty?”

He smirked and said, “Because you deserve it, my Prince. Wait, actually…” He blushed a little, wrapped his arms around my waist, and rested his chin on my shoulder. “My King.”

Now I was blushing! I smiled and kissed the top of his head. I turned my head back to the TV and wrapped my arm around his waist.

He turned his head back to the TV as well and laid his head on my shoulder. I kissed the top of his head again and laid my head on top of his.

We sat and watched the movie for a while, up until the part where Harry got to Diagon Alley with Hagrid. I was convinced Nick had fallen asleep for a long time. He had his eyes closed but that theory was immediately debunked when Nick’s eyes shot open, just for him to squeeze my ass, call me sexyback, and go back to watching the movie. I swear, sometimes this man is too much.

A little more into the movie when Harry had arrived at Platform 9 3/4, Nick stared me down until I finally turned my head to look at him. He looked around suspiciously and asked me, “So… wanna make out a little more?”

I blushed and smirked. “Sure, why not British boy?” Before he could say a word, I threw my hands on his neck and shoved my lips onto his.

He quickly wrapped his arms around my waist.

After that long kiss, he pulled away from me. I leaned in for another kiss but he shoved his finger on my lips. “Wait a second.” He turned his body to the side again, then hoisted his leg over my waist and made himself comfortable on my lap, coming face-to-face with me. “Now you can kiss me.”

I smirked and said, “You’re a daredevil.” I put my hands around his waist. “I like that in a man.”

He wrapped his arms around my body as I kissed him. His lips were so warm, his hands so soft as they made their way under my shirt and up my back.

I grabbed his shirt in my hands and kissed him harder. He moved his hand up my back and to my neck, then into my hair.

But he slowly untangled himself from me. He put his hands on my shoulders and smirked before asking me, “So, uh… wanna take this to my bedroom?”

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. This man was the Devil himself! I raised an eyebrow at him and said, “Lead me there.”

He winked, then got up off my lap and grabbed my hand. He dragged me up off the couch, then off to the room where he had retrieved the blue fleece blanket from.

As soon as he shoved the door closed, he took me by my shoulders and shoved me against the door, then pressed his lips on mine.

I quickly grabbed his waist and pulled him closer to me. He kissed me harder, his hands traveling up my shirt.

We made out at the door for a while, then he brought his hands back to my chest and pulled away from me. He pulled my cardigan off, then the t-shirt under it.

I quickly mirrored his actions and started to unbutton his suit vest. Once I pulled the vest off, I untied his tie and threw it on the ground. He pressed another kiss on my lips as I unbuttoned his white button-down and slipped it off his arms.

As our clothes lay in a heap on the floor, he went to grab at my belt. I pushed him back and asked, “What are we doing?”

He raised his eyebrow, his hand still held out, and asked me, “What do you mean? I thought we were gonna…” He spun his hand around in circles, meaning exactly what you think it means.

I raised my eyebrow back and said, “Yeah, but at the door?”

He laughed, then placed his hands on my waist and said, “We can take this to my bed.” He put his lips up against mine, just barely enough space to let out a shaky breath. “If you want.” As the whisper escaped his mouth, I could feel his hot breath on my chin.

I sneaked a quick kiss from him, then took his arms and wrapped them around my neck. “That would be easier,” I said. “But I’m gonna be the top.” I poked his chest for emphasis.

He rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever, sexyback.”

I winked at him, then continued to pick him up off the ground. “Wrap your legs around me.”

He quickly did so, and I grabbed him under his thighs to keep him up. I walked over to his bed and threw him down on the mattress. Then I quickly hopped on the bed, right on top of him.

He stared at me with a sly grin on his face. I gave him one back. We both grabbed at each other’s belts at the same time and well… things went on from there.

~

As I woke up the next morning in Nick’s bed, I looked over to my right and saw he wasn’t there next to me. I looked to the front and saw the bedroom door wide open, the smell of bacon wafting through my nose. He must be making us breakfast. What a gentleman.

I looked over to my left and saw he had left me a clean folded white towel on the nightstand next to me. I smiled, then took the towel and got out of his bed.

I quickly wrapped the towel around my waist, just in case Nick decided he wanted to stare at me through the door. Sneaky Brit.

I walked across the room and quietly opened the bathroom door in his bedroom. I snuck inside and closed it just as quietly as I had opened it.

I turned his shower on, took off my glasses, and put my hair down, then hopped in.

As I cleansed myself of what we, uh… did… last night, I could hear Nick belting out Billy Joel in the kitchen…

And he could not sing!

But I knew this song…

So I started singing the lyrics along with Nick. “Sing us a song, you’re the piano man / sing us a song tonight / we’ll, we’re all in the mood for a melody / and you’ve got us feelin’ alright”

Nick paused in the kitchen. I paused mid way through shampooing my hair as he switched the music off.

I heard his footsteps and then: “Am I really that bad of a singer?”

I laughed. “You shouldn’t quit your day job.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I get to spend many hours of my day with you when I’m at work.”

I didn’t say anything back, I just blushed.

I heard the floorboards creak as he started walking back to the kitchen. “You have really nice voice.”

I couldn’t say anything before he walked away.

I just finished my shower, blushing wildly. Once I got out, I quickly started to get dressed.

Nick had turned the music back on and the song Movin’ Out was now playing. I hummed along with the music as I pulled on my pair of jeans that I wore last night back on. I didn’t have any other pants, I guess I’ll just put a different pair on when I get home later.

As I strapped my belt through the belt loops, my phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. I picked it up and I saw a text from Nick: ‘Don’t leave the bathroom. My girlfriend just got home. Be really quiet and don’t respond to this text.’

My heart started to race. He told me he didn’t love his girlfriend anymore. He failed to mention he didn’t ever break up with her.

As I stopped my humming, I heard Nick in the other room talking to a woman: his not-so-ex-girlfriend. I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

As his girlfriend walked into the bedroom, I threw my hand over my mouth to muffle my breathing and stood as far away from the bathroom door as I could go.

Silence. Then: “Nick!”

Nick came into the room. “Yeah?”

“Would you mind telling me what this is?” she asked him in an angered tone.

Uh oh. I don’t recall leaving anything behind that could’ve given away the fact that Nick was cheating on her. Right?

“What do you mean?” Nick had that tone in his voice that obviously meant he knew what she meant.

“Why did I happen to find a lock of brown hair on your bed? Your hair is blonde and so is mine! Whose hair is this?”

My hair! Of course a piece of my hair had to fall out onto the bed!

“I…uh…” Nick started.

“Yes!? What girl did you sleep with while I was gone?”

“Hey, it wasn’t even a girl, okay!?” Nick shouted.

Nice move, Nick. I almost smacked my forehead, but then remembered I couldn’t make any sound.

It must feel great to find out your boyfriend tried out men while you were gone. ‘Surprise, I’m gay now!’ Love it.

“It’s a guy,” Nick said, as if it wasn’t obvious.

A beat.

“Why did you do it, Nick?”

“I’m sorry, I just… I just don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry I kept that from you for so long. This wouldn’t have happened.”

More silence.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that earlier?” she asked. “I would’ve understood.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

“Well, I do understand. We can… end our relationship if that’s what you want.”

A small silence, then from Nick: “Yeah… yeah, okay.”

I took my hand off my mouth slowly.

Then, Nick said, “He’s actually still in the bathroom right now! Wanna meet him?”

Fuck!

I might have to kick Nick’s ass when I get out of this bathroom.

“Sure?” Nick’s now-ex-girlfriend said skeptically.

I stayed silent in my position.

I heard footsteps getting closer to the door. “Alec, you can come out now,” Nick said softly. He sounded a little seductive but maybe that’s just my Nick-infused brain working overtime.

I sighed, then said, “Hold on.”

If I was to go out and meet Nick’s ex, I definitely wanted to do it with a shirt on. I slipped on my t-shirt and cardigan, then squeezed out my hair with the towel and tied it into ponytail. I cleaned my glasses before propping them up on my nose. Then I took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

Standing there next to Nick was a blind woman in a white casual business suit. Her face was dotted with freckles.

I awkwardly waved and stood in the doorway. Then Nick walked forward and grabbed my arm, then pulled me into the bedroom to stand next to him.

“Alec, this is Lennie.” Nick gestured to his ex. “Lennie, this is Alec.”

I waved again, and she waved back.

An awkward silence filled the air for a moment.

“So I guess you’ll want me to move out now,” Lennie said, crossing her arms.

Nick’s face washed over with panic. “What!? No! You bought the house. You should have it! I’ll find somewhere else to live!”

I looked from Lennie, to Nick, then back to Lennie. “Yeah, he can live with me in my house!”

Nick blushed but Lennie said, “No, I’ll move out. I wanted to get a different house anyway. Now I have a reason for a new house.”

Without another word, she left the bedroom.

Nick and me just stood in silence. Then Nick said, “So the house is gonna be pretty empty without Lennie around-“

“You want me to move in, don’t you?”

Nick laughed. “Maybe. If you want.”

I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Sure. I need some company anyway.”

Later on, Nick drove me home.

Once Lennie moved bought a new house and moved out, I packed my bags and moved in. It was gonna be a… different experience living in the same house as Nick but hey! I know the experiences we do share will be great!

Anyways I hope yall enjoyed this!! Again, if this wasn’t your type of thing, don’t come at me please 🙏🏻 anyways ily all, have a good day and love alenick 🔥🔥🔥

[malleablemusic]

unfortunately, my boyfriend unironically listens to weezer, and has caught wind about this blog. after a month of trying, he has successfully convinced me to use this album for this week's blog. let the record state that i have heard island in the sun before, as aquamarine is one of my favorite movies in the entire world (for anyone wondering, he will now be watching that fantastic piece of cinematic history with me in exchange for this post). anyways, here's my review of weezer's self titled album:

don't let go: 3/5 stars

i love when a man sings "ill be down on my knees" for some reason its just so vulnerable

loving the simp energy he is giving, whole song is just begging so far

this is transforming me into a 14 year old boy with a spiky haircut, learning guitar in my room, suddenly i want to play basketball in my driveway

his voice is very classic, especially for the music genre, but doesn't feel unique enough for me

photograph: 2.9/5 stars

i always love clapping in songs, especially in an intro

such a fun beat, i could dance around my room to this

i think he just liked getting to repeat "re-erect it" over and over

hash pipe: 4.6/5 stars

oh okay raaaangeee!!!! is this a completely different singer

feels like such a different vibe than the first two

what happens when that 14yr old spiky haired kid gets older and gains access to marijuana lmao

i didn't know weezer could be angsty this is great

"you've got your problems / i've got my eyes wide / you've got your big g's / i've got my hash pipe" he's truly speaking words of wisdom

island in the sun: 5/5 stars

it is very hard for me to separate this song from the film that means so very much to me (aquamarine) so i simply will not be

the pure joy and light and love this song exudes its insane

i am instantly transported to a beach, in a bikini and big shirt, hair damp and sun-bleached, off a margarita and dancing in the sunset

i am obsessed with the guitar solo and need to learn how to play just for this

the way he sings "we'll never feel bad anymoreeee" !! IM HEALED

crab: .1/5 stars

okay continuing with the beach theme

brb googling what it means to crab?

according to the internet they're just complaining about the women. ok way to let me down after one of my favorite songs ever

is this just a man upset a woman won't sleep with him

"crab at the booty / 'taint gonna do no good" shutttt uppp ! just shut up (:

this is really gonna lower the album's average huge L for them

knockdown dragout: 2.5/5 stars

lyrics are kind of giving nothing, repetitive

i do enjoy the guitar, they always eat with that, but this is kind of boring

smile: 2.8/5 stars

i like his little belting when he sings "'cause i don't wanna break"

the guitar solos in this album !! even the short ones, so good

follows the common theme i see of wanting a girl to give him a chance...

simple pages: 2.8/5 stars

yup okay another song asking a girl to give him a chance - truly, i get it, and this is a valid form of art you go sir, i just do not see myself listening to this kinda music

i do enjoy pining every once in a while do not get me wrong

another bangin guitar solo

feels like i don't have much to say about this..

glorious day: 3/5 stars

angsty nerdy boy decides its time to finally make a move and ask a girl out

i like these kinds of weezer songs more, the "grittier" sound

giving angry high school band in a battle of the bands competition

o girlfriend: 2/5 stars

i think what i don't like about them is while their sound is good and i enjoy it, the lyrics are truly so generic and not special

i think I said this in an earlier post, and i am not trying to be disparaging, but an AI chatbot could've easily written this in 30 seconds- i just don't believe he's actually hurt and grieving a love, i want to feel the artists genuine pain, this does not sound like a man torn apart

sadly, i was very underwhelmed by this album. to my partner's credit, this is not his favorite of their work, so maybe i will give the rest of their music a try eventually, but for now that was very mid (aside from the perfection that is island in the sun) and i'd give the album 2.7/5 stars.

[itsatigersharkidiot]

☆Chapter 5-Roland and Layton ☆

(𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲)

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“Haha!! Finally!” Lev cheered as he busted through the door to the music room. “I’ve acquired our soon-to-be guitarists!” As Lev let them go, Roland glared at Lev while Layton collapsed on the floor.

“Actually.” Connor corrected Lev’s statement “We all did, Lev. Without Risa, we wouldn’t have found these two.” Risa nodded proudly in agreement.

“Yeah, I know! I get it! But cmon, I’m excited!” Lev said with a cheeky grin. “We’ve gotta see ‘em play something.”

Risa sighed. “Lev, go grab a macaron and calm down, for the love of god!” Lev scowled “Fine.”

Layton’s ears perked up when Risa mentioned macarons “Where are the macarons at?” Risa looked up at Layton, confused yet amused by her sudden change in attitude. “On that table.”

Layton immediately ran to the table, grabbing a macaron and eating it almost immediately. “Mmmh! These are so good!” Risa smiled and gave a quick thumbs up “Thank you, I’m glad you enjoy them.”

“So, y’all gonna show us how well you play? Well, when you’re ready to, no rush.” Connor had asked.

“Wait, why’re both me and Layton here? If y’all needed a guitarist, I assume you mean one and not two.”

Connor sighed out of irritation “I’m pretty sure we’ve mentioned that we need a lead and a rhythm guitarist. Maybe check your damn ears.” Roland flipped him off “Well if anyone’s gonna be the lead guitarist it’s gonna be me.”

Connor glared at him, muttering something under his breath before speaking up “We’ve gotta see your skills first before that’s determined, dumbass.”

Risa nodded in agreement “I’ve seen you both play and you’re definitely both skillful but we’ve gotta compare you two to settle who gets which position.”

Layton gave a thumbs up “That’s understandable but in that case, we should get it done with now.” Lev excitedly nodded in agreement.

Layton walked to the corner of the room and grabbed her guitar case, handing Roland his. They both took out their guitars, Roland having a Gibson Les Paul and Layton having a Fender Stratocaster.

“I see you both have a popular and high quality model of guitar.” Cam had pointed out.

Once both of them had set up the amps and plugged in all the cords, they were all set. “So, what can you guys play?” Lev asked.

Layton looked down at Lev and noticed he was wearing a Weezer shirt “I can play this…” She then played the lick from Buddy Holly, which caused Lev to gasp and smile widely.

Roland scoffed “Really? Weezer?” Layton frowned “He’s wearing a Weezer shirt, so that’s what came to mind.”

Roland began playing Chop Suey by System Of A Down, smirking the whole time while doing so. This left the others impressed, Risa and Cam clapping along and Lev begun head banging. Connor however, tried not to show any emotion or sign of being impressed. Once Roland had finished, they all applauded, Roland had a cocky grin pasted on his face.

“System Of A Down, eh?” Layton commented.

Roland turned to Layton, very clearly proud of the reactions he got “Yep. And what’re you gonna play?” he asked, wondering if Layton could compare.

“Hm…how about some Metallica?” Layton started to play the main riff of Lux Æterna. The others were clearly impressed, having a similar reaction to Roland’s playing except Connor was actually showing it.

“Someone give me another Metallica song!”

“Do Enter Sandman!” Lev called out. Layton had began playing it, the others still quite impressed. “Say your prayers little one, don’t forget my son…” Connor began singing along quietly.

“Alright! One more song!”

Connor had decided on a song “Gimme Fuel Gimme Fire Gimme that which I desire!” Layton chucked and began playing Fuel. Once she’d finished, everyone clapped once more.

“Wow, they’re both really good!” Cam had commented “It’s gonna be hard to choose who gets what.”

Layton looked over at Roland “Yknow, he can be lead guitar, I really don’t mind.” Roland glanced back at Layton, his expression lightening slightly. “Really? Are you sure about that, Layton?” Connor had asked, wanting to make sure it was something she really wanted. Layton nodded, patting Roland on the shoulder.

“Well I guess it’s settled then, Roland’s lead and Layton’s rhythm.” The others cheered, Lev being especially happy “Connor! We did it! We’ve got a whole band!” Connor smiled “Yeah, we really did but my concern is how well are we all gonna get along.” Lev shrugged “I’m sure we’ll be fine, I mean you and Roland may already beef with each other and you also have slight beef with Cam and even myself but whatever.”

Connor frowned and whacked Lev in the back of the head.

“Ow! My point proven…”

“Well in that case, look what I brought!” Risa took out another container of pastries. “Oh my god, Risa. That’s really kind of you, but where are you getting all these?” Cam seemed curious but also wanted to try whatever was in the container.

“I tend to bake a lot and since now I’m in a band, I have a whole group to share ‘em with.” Layton smiled “That’s so sweet!” Risa opened the container and sat it at the middle of a table, the band members sitting around it.

“We should all get to know each other better, yknow? Layton had said, the pastry in her mouth muffling her voice. “That’s a good idea—“ “Everyone, what’s your favourite bands?” Lev had cut Connor off, as per usual.

Cam spoke up first “Yknow, I like The Beatles, The Rollings Stones too.”

“Mmh…classic rock, I see. Well personally I like AC/DC and Bon Jovi.” Lev said next. “Weezer too!”

“I like Avenged Sevenfold, Korn and System Of A Down.” said Roland, crossing his arms.

“I really like Metallica and Metric, Gorillaz too.” Layton replied, stuffing another pastry into her mouth.

“I’ll listen to anything really.” Connor said nonchalantly with a shrug. “Yeah same here, anything is fine with me.” Risa added.

The band chattered about this for a while before Lev came to a realization. “Hey so…”

“So what?” Connor cocked his head to the side in curiosity. What was Lev thinking about now?

“What’s our band name?”

The others became quiet, they didn’t have one yet. “Good question.” said Cam. “Any ideas?”

Connor thought, there was really nothing in mind. “We’ll figure something out, hopefully.”

Layton nodded “When will we all play together though?”

Connor paused again “Soon.” Lev sighed “Well it better be soon, I don’t wanna wait much longer!” Risa chuckled at Lev’s level of patience.

“We’ll practice soon, Lev. Soon.”

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