#is this too morbid

[johnboyegbert]

Hello, random billionaire. I want to play a game. In front of you is an unsealed, poorly built submarine. You do not have to go in the submarine. If you do, i will seal you inside and drop you so deep in the ocean that no one will ever find your body. Entering the submarine will cost you $250,000. Just to reiterate, you absolutely do not have to go in the submarine. There is no benefit to going in the submarine. You have 96 hours. Make your choice.

[gothchoccymilk]

happy father's day to all the father figures in my life

get spooky 😎

[aesrot]

my family doesnt get me </3 they all want to be cremated when they die and dont care that i dont want to. now im researching what happens when someone dies in a foreign country. please, i just want to be buried in the dirt. i dont even need a coffin.

[tawnysoup]

when his face telegraphs the pun before it happens

[sleepyslag]

Oh my god they have had the What If One Of Us Dies conversation. And Dan almost had to live it. Do you think he was sitting in that relative's room in the hospital going oh god I might have to find a way to get this bitch cryogenically frozen.

[bluelicorfino]

Jettwins lore, right?

Based on this:

[cybersixed]

You wouldn't last a DAY in the streets I grew up in

[sleepy-steve]

pt 2 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.9k // pt 1 ♡

—

november 1984

Eddie checks. Of course he checks. Asks around, eventually to his superiors to make sure he wasn’t going to get in trouble for not collecting Steve. It’s uncommon, they tell him, rare, even. But not unheard of. People die briefly and come back to life. Usually only the one time. The answer should be good enough. Should be. Isn’t though. It frustrates Eddie to no end. Months of wondering and ruminating with the firm belief that he won’t get to see Harrington again anytime soon to ask.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

This time Eddie is on the boat. Leaning over the edge, a hand dangling low to the black water, staring at the same patch of grass he first saw Steve sitting. In fairness, all souls appeared in that general area. But Eddie is fixated on the exact spot Steve had shown off his deep chest wounds. It’s for this reason that Eddie jumps three feet into the air when Steve materialises in the same spot again less than a year later.

Sitting up with a rattling gasp and a look of fury on his bashed-in face—again?! Eddie briefly thinks—Steve yells, “Fucking Hargrove!”

“Christ, Harrington!” Eddie shouts, hand over his chest despite the distinct lack of heartbeat. “Could give a guy a bit of warning.”

Steve looks around, eyes surrounded by more dark bruising taking a second to focus on Eddie, chest heaving as he calms down. “Shit, sorry, man.”

They just look at each other for a few long moments, Eddie standing like a frightened cat on his still wobbling boat. He clears his throat to break the silence. “Who, uh. Who’s Hargrove?”

Scoffing, Steve drags a hand down the side of his face, then winces as it passes over bruising. “Douchebag new guy.” He sighs, settling his forearms on his knees. “His sister is friends with some kids I know. Was coming after them, so I…” Trailing off, Steve gestures to his face.

“What? Offered yourself up as a human punching bag and got yourself killed? Again?” Eddie says, trying not to sound too judgemental.

“Yeah, well,” Steve sighs. “I wasn’t just gonna let him beat up a kid. They’ve been through enough without some dickhead coming in and kicking the shit out of them.”

Eddie feels his brows pull together slightly as he sits back down on the bench of the boat, arms crossed over the edge. It’s not like Harrington was the big bully of Hawkins High, but defender of local kids is… new. “Sounds like a grade-A asshole.”

Steve snorts. “He is.”

“Kids were lucky to have you around as their… babysitter?” Eddie offers, cracking a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Something like that. Probably didn’t need me at all. Stuck around long enough to see her drug him, so they should be fine.”

Humming appreciatively, a thought moves across Eddie’s mind, and he can’t help himself. “…No monsters this time?”

“Ha, ha,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know you don’t believe me, but the monsters did actually come back, which is why I was with those little shits in the first place.” He sounds annoyed, but there’s a fond look behind those bruised eyes. One that gives Eddie a little spark in his chest. “But no, this death was just a regular guy.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort. “This death. So casual.”

A full grin breaks out on Steve’s face, contrasting heavily with the bruises and the blood under his nose. “Well, when it’s happened this many times, kinda hard not to view it as like. Just this thing that happens, y’know?”

Eddie doesn’t really know. Of everything he’s learnt about death—through his own and through everyone he’s met since—this thing Steve goes through is beyond him. Incomprehensible. He nods anyway.

“How many times have you died, Harrington?”

“Hmm…” Steve looks up as he thinks for a moment. “This would be… five? Or six?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure if it happened when I was a baby.”

He says it so casually, so matter-of-fact, Eddie almost wants to double-take. It sounds so truthful, he struggles to not believe him. Even though Eddie knows he’s not losing much by believing him, a small part of him still has doubts. And worries for his job. “You gonna get in the boat this time?”

Steve snorts. “Not this time, buddy.” Something jolts in Eddie’s chest at the familiarity. “Maybe next time though.”

“Next time,” Eddie mutters under his breath, shaking his head. “You anticipate dying again?”

“Well, no,” Steve chuckles. “But based on how things have been… and apparently I’m not too careful.” He gestures at his bruised up face, eyes bright with humour between the blues and purples and reds.

“The monsters?” Eddie supplies, just teetering on the edge of sarcasm.

“Monsters, douchebag guys, car wrecks… you just never know.”

The casual tone in which Steve talks about his deaths still has Eddie reeling. It’s been well over a year and Eddie is surrounded by death constantly, and he still struggles to think about his own. Tells himself he’d rather not dwell, which is true, but it also hurts. He shakes it off, shifting his focus to the bruised and beaten boy in front of him.

“Or… you could save yourself the trouble, and get in the boat now?” Eddie gestures down at his boat with a little hand flair. He’s joking. Mostly. If Steve did have the chance to go back to the land of the living, Eddie didn’t want to take that away from him. Not that he thought Steve was getting that chance. Not completely, anyway.

“Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” Steve grins at him, like they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of were. Eddie wasn’t sure how many people knew about Steve’s semi-regular dances with death.

“And since when have you ever been one to stick to the rules?” Eddie asks, propping his arm up and resting his chin on his palm. Looking at the boy on the grass. His hair is longer this time.

Steve laughs, head tilted back. “Fair point. But if you want me on that boat, you’re gonna have to come over here and drag me onto it.” He raises a brow at Eddie in challenge.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” He repeats Steve’s words back at him, mocking him.

“Well, well, well,” Steve says, tone playful. “Look who’s being a stickler for rules now.”

“I know,” Eddie drags it out, struggling to hold back his smile. “Crazy, huh? Divine punishment for being born the son of a criminal, I guess.” Eddie’s gaze drops down to the black water beneath him.

Steve scoffs at him. “Like you never smoked pot or broke speeding laws in that van of yours.” 

Eyes widening before he can stop them, Eddie’s shocked Steve even knows about the van. Shocked that Steve knows anything about him at all. What world is he in where the king of Hawkins High knows about Eddie and his beat up old van? Even being in the grade below him, Steve had a popularity pull that was noticed by those in Eddie’s grade. Confusion and surprise subsiding, Eddie finds himself leaning forward even further.

“Coming from you?” Eddie challenges back. “We all know about the famous Harrington ragers, Mister Keg King.”

The title makes Steve roll his eyes. “Never saw you at one.”

It was true. Eddie hadn’t attended any of the parties, for fear of his reputation making him a target. He drops his gaze again. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome there.”

Steve doesn’t respond, and the silence grows between them. They haven’t moved, but Eddie feels further away from him. Like the weird little familiarity they’d developed was being forcefully shoved apart. Eddie doesn’t look up to see Steve’s reaction. Doesn’t want the pity.

“So, you really can’t get out of the boat?” Steve breaks the silence with a complete topic change.

“Nope,” Eddie responds, popping the P. “She’s my new baby, now that I don’t have my van.” He pats the side of the boat with his free hand.

Steve shifts forward until he’s sitting as close as he can to the water’s edge without getting wet. Close enough for Eddie to see the broken capillaries under his skin and the little green flecks in his eyes. He takes in the cuts on Steve’s jaw and forehead, the two black eyes, the blood under his nose. The way his knuckles are bruised and bloodied to match. Something in Eddie feels oddly… protective. Like he wants to jump in front of anything that might hurt this guy he doesn’t even really know that well.

“Change your mind about getting in the boat?” Eddie asks, voice low, now that Steve is so close.

“No,” Steve huffs a laugh. “But you can’t move, so I figured I should.”

“Just that desperate to be close to me, are you?” It slips out of Eddie’s mouth before he can think about it. And Eddie wants to punch himself in the face over it.

But to his surprise, Steve doesn’t recoil away or yell at him. Instead, he laughs softly, cheeks faintly pink beneath the bruising. “What can I say? The allure of your… baby…” He says it with a smirk. “Very tempting.”

Taken aback by Steve’s… flirting is the only word to describe it, but that can’t be right, Eddie immediately switches to joke mode. He won’t entertain the idea that Steve Harrington was honest-to-god flirting with him. He won’t.

“I’ll get you into this boat one day, Harrington. Mark my words.” 

He knocks on the edge of the boat twice before smoothing his hand over the wood. Watches as Steve’s eyes follow his hand, seemingly fixated on it. Eddie briefly wonders what would happen if he touched Steve. Would that commit Steve to being stuck here? Commit him to moving on? Would Eddie even be able to feel him?

Gaze shifting back to Eddie’s face, a smile grows on Steve’s face. “Maybe. One day.” He shrugs, like his eventual death is a fun, whimsical topic.

Eddie is about to comment on Steve’s tone, but before he can, Steve’s head whips to the side, hearing something Eddie can’t. Just like last time.

Unlike last time, Steve doesn’t get up right away. “Looks like my time’s up.”

“How do you know?” Eddie is so curious, he can’t help but ask.

“I can hear—” Steve waves vaguely around his ear. “—stuff. From where I am. The kids are yelling. Hope they’re not too freaked out.”

“Guess you better get back then,” Eddie says, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Yep.” Steve pulls himself up into a standing position, now suddenly looking down at Eddie, who leans back on instinct, shifting back on the boat bench. “But I’ll see you next time.”

“I’ll be here.” Eddie gestures at the boat, palm up. Like he has anywhere else to go. “See ya, Harrington. Stay away from monsters.”

“I’ll try,” Steve laughs, walking backwards on the grass. Keeping his eyes on Eddie as he retreats.

“Try not to get that pretty face bashed in again,” Eddie calls after Steve’s already fading form, grinning wide.

Steve just laughs, the sound of it echoing even after his body disappears from Eddie’s sight.

[filled-with-fat]

Food addict 🍔🤤🌭🤤🍟

Oh how amazing it feels to grow fat. How erotic it is to notice your belly soft and plush, as a young gainer. The feeling of outgrowing your first pair of trousers; being unable to pull them up past your widening hips, having to suck in your tummy fat, and not being able to see downstairs as you try and find a hole in your belt. The sudden realisation, as your Calvin’s rip down the seam, exposing your hefty butt, that you’re no longer a twink.

How amazing it feels to be able to fit more and more into your stomach each day. You used to only be able to eat 1 BigMac, before you would feel bloated and would collapse in a food coma. Now, you don’t even feel full after 3. That first time you stuff yourself you felt an immense amount of euphoria, eroticism and excitement, now every other time you eat, you try and match that very first time. You try and stuff yourself so full, that your body tingles and shivers from all the lust. But it never quite gets there. Even though now, you can hold down a triple cheeseburger combo with extra large fries, and an xl McFlurry, it still doesn’t feel as good as that very first time. So you stuff more, and more, and more each sitting, you’ll have over 5 fast food deliveries a day, and you’ll consume more than 10,000 calories and additives, hoping that you’ll eventually reach that same level of eroticism and pleasure as your very first stuffing. You beg your boyfriend to feed you more, you suck his fingers clean, licking off all the unhealthy crumbs and sauce that stuck to his fingers. He rubs your bloated and heavy belly, his fingers trace the expansive network of stretch marks that deface it, he asks if they hurt, that turned you on more than you could have imagined.

Your weight skyrockets. Your boyfriend struggles to pull you out of bed and lift you up from the sofa; you arms resemble tyres stacked on top of each other, rolls of fat circling from your shoulder to your fingers, your moobs look heavy and large, your nipple piercings stretched and painful from all the fat that surrounds them. Every inch of your body is covered in soft, plushy fat, layers that fold over each other. Yet, despite how ridiculously overweight you are, despite all your doctors warning you of how dangerously obese you are, and all your friends urging you to lose a few pounds, you still keep eating. You keep stuffing yourself every minute of the day. You wake up feeling hungry during the night, and reach under the bed to scoff several packets of crisps and cookies. You’re addicted to food and addicted to the feeling of eating. You love how good it felt to be stuffed that very first time, that feeling of euphoria and pleasure, how turned on it made you feel. You’re constantly chasing that feeling, hoping one day, you’ll eat so much, and you’ll feel just as it felt that very first time; an overload of sexual pleasure and lust. Yet in the process of chasing that feeling, you’ve put on over 500lbs, you’re a shadow of your former self, and your body can’t cope carrying all the fat you’ve forced on it.

[keepthedelta]

do you think keke rosberg who raced against his best friend and lost and raced against him and won and tried to save him but couldn't and had to leave the track that day knowing that elio was gone when that morning he had been alive and laughing ever looks at nico and lewis and is grateful for their divorce?

[gotstabbedbyapen]

I drank too much coffe in the evening and now I'm struggling to get some sleep. So have my 1 AM Hyapollo Half-Dead AU (or Zombie AU, which ever you prefer)

Basically Hyacinthus was ressurected from the dead through dark magic or a one-in-a-lifetime glitch in the life-death cycle. He is a bit off and doozy from the sudden shift but still obtains most of his personality. However, due to being a disrespectful defiant to the natural order (I imagine Persephone often call him as such), Hyacinthus cannot eat human food like before or feast on ambrosia like the gods.

So to keep his lover alive and not hungry while not endangering others, Apollo lets Hyacinthus drink his ichor and eat some of his flesh. Yeah, allowing your lover to sustain on your own godly blood if their love language, don't judge.

Apollo is a full god so ichor loss isn't a problem to him. It might hurt when he got bitten, but Apollo is willing to do anything for his defiant-to-the-natural-order Hyacinthus. Anything to keep him well fed and happy.

Edit: I'm gonna re-name this to Theophagy AU. The new one sounds fancier :>

[unicornpopcorn14]

Random ass hc of Dazai gifting Chuuya smth on the first valentine since Chuuya joined, and Chuuya going "??? tf? Have you lost your mind?" in which Dazai counters with, "It's a celebration of us not being together, stupid! You think I'll gift you anything if we were together?!"

And Chuuya going, "Oh yeah that makes sense... Wait- I didn't give you anything... does that mean-"

"Care to explain anything, Chuuya~?"

"I DON'T FUCKING LIKE YOU!"

They did it every year. Each one they plan a week ahead for the best gift because giving a weak gift, to them, is like being upset that they are not dating. Sort of in a 'I'm celebrating this shit harder than you, see?' way.

And so Dazai strategizes, and Chuuya plans, with every valentine being a mantra of "Aha! But I brought this, that's how much I don't stand you!" "Funny, because I bought this!" "Aha, bet you didn't think I'd buy another one, though!!" "Two steps ahead, I bought FOUR!"

Half of the PM thinks they're already together, while the other half (aka Koyou, the flags, Oda, Ango, and anyone unfortunate enough to know the two well) are just so freaking tired.

At 22, they do stop gifting each other on Valentine's...

[yardsards]

i needed to express a sentiment in the creative stylings of @dunmeshiminimumwage

[mikeluciraphgabe]

The sins committed on ao3 STAY on ao3 - whatever god or non god or whatever you believe or don’t believe in, understand this

[anewp0tat0]

I am so passed April fools cause life hard and busy but I hope we're still in a silly mood ;;v;;

(very belated) April Black Butler Animo Black Arts Magazine- Ciel Dies.

I really needed to participate in this months mag for 2 reasons, 1) because I missed doing last months mag even though the prompt that I had pitched since day 1 of me joining (wild west) was finally selected... and I didn't even get to participate. so I'm bummed. and 2) because I actually also am mostly responsible for conceiving this prompt and I am proud of myself(as well as everyone else who participated hahaaa) for having an idea. so yes.

I also got to do the cover this time.

[mafuyuakgae]

goodnight, sweet prince