#nvr quit

[omgisthatdevannn]

Jan 15, 2024

Work life is ⚙️ but life life is 💡 entonces, no me importa.

January Accomplishments to Hit:

Maintain 98% class grade

Find new representation

Line up SuperBowl Clients

Publish new website for Creem (follow if u haven;t uwu!)

Post on Insta, growth of 5-15% MtM.

[versacethotty]

OH RUBINA GIVE IT TO EM BABY

[cliffburton]

cliff burton

[notvil]

what’s the best song on alligator bites never heal the people wanna know 🎤 (also haiiii :3)

I WISH U COULD HAVE SEEN MY FACE WHEN I REALIZED THIS HAS BEEN ROTTING FOR A WEEK ALREADY IM SORRY DOBBY WILL DO BETTER !!!

hai :3 my favorite is bullfrog but nissan altima or catfish might just be the best. 🤍

[hanniedream]

quitting my job to become a full time fanfic reader so i can give my beloved fic writers the reblogs and comments they deserve!!!!!

[tfshouldidohere]

i saw this video on instagram and i wanted to tell you i love your tan skin so much it’s so pretty baby my pretty baby mi amor

AND WHAT IF I CRY HUH ?????

[rosewinelonging]

its a pathetic sight.

roxy whines beneath dirk, writhing against his hold. shes crying. its almost hard to tell whether is consensual, dirks constant reminders of how much he wants it, her obsessive need for child, it did little to quell the unease in your chest. you almost want to remind him that youre here, as much as a child that shell ever need. you dont. you continue to watch roxy in silence. her hoodie was pushes up, the bandages around her chest ripped, her tits spilling out. pressed into the ground like this, you could almost imagine if she really was pregnant-

you cut that thought off. its a dangerous road for a woman like you.

“father.” he hates when you call him that. you dont really care. he barely spares you a glance, so you repeat yourself louder this time.

he looks up, a small twitch in his brow to show his annoyance on his otherwise still face. “what.”

you take a moment to consider before settling on, “roxy is a very pretty girl.” he hums and adds nothing else. unusual. you continue. “dont you think this a bit much?”

the consideration feels heavy in your chest, wrong. he levels you a look that makes your gears whir and your circuts fizzle. another reminder of how much of you is his. you look back to roxy. shes shaking, tears stream down her face, only visible because he has a hand buried in her hair, has her head pulled back. you follow the forceful bend of her neck with your eyes. he doesnt want her. the thought makes you angry, if you could be angry. if he wanted her she wouldnt be like this. you wouldnt treat her like this.

dirk hasnt stopped moving, rocking into her. until he does. he stills and he looks you in the eyes and you know.

he gets up when hes done, doesnt spare her another glance, keeps his narrative gaze locked on yours. you make no movement. roxy is sprawled on the floor, filled with his cum. she wanted it after all. you clench and unclench your hands and do nothing but stare.

[euphausia]

metaphor community is quite close-minded whn it comes to selfcest.... 🧐

[redmagicflower]

lord

[arcaneanarchist]

the concord bad design hate has always squigged me out like some of the designs do suck but the loudest ppl talking about it have been the I'll fucking kill you if you make Lara Croft's boobs even a pixel smaller types u know?

[strawberryseeded]

as a reader i LOOOVE going thru the comment section of different fics of a particular ship & bumping into the same faces (aka pfps) over and over.... we sure enjoy this brand huh

[dreamertrilogys]

Hello sorry to bother ik this is very random and out of nowhere but i am not out to any family or any friends so i don't have anyone else to ask and the internet isn't really helping either and you came to mind so that's why i went to ask i hope that's ok but i recently acquired myself a binder in secret and overall it fits quite well (there's a lot more pressure than i'm used to on my chest and the first time i put it on my heart started pounding really hard and i can't put it on well. Stepping into it is impossible and over the head is very difficult also, but other than that it's fine) but it does dig into my skin quite a little under the armpits and i'm kind of freaking out about it have you encountered such problems too and is that normal or does that mean i should buy a size bigger? Really sorry to barge in but i'm really freaking out and idk what to do :'( the internet says that buying a binder that's too small can cause serious issues so i'm like a little scared right now ... Again sorry to bother and thank you in advance ❤

hey ! don’t worry abt bothering me i promise u aren’t. as for the binder i’ve never personally encountered such issues myself but from what i can tell it does seem like it might be too small for you unfortunately :(. maybe check out the company’s return policy, sorry </3

[vagabond-umlaut]

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

[armyyoftwoo]

andre x cal noncon fic

ive nvr posted a fic on here before pls be kind!! idk how to do the layout im too used to ao3.anywho,,pls enjoy

“stop squirming," andre hissed through gritted teeth, his hands digging into cal's shoulders as he tried to hold him still.

andre hadnt really wanted to do this, but it felt right. it felt like the natural progression of things. as if their bond had led them to this moment, to this intimacy that only they could share. and really, what did cal expect, sneaking over to andres house in the middle of the night?

"andre. off. get off," cal said, his voice low and even. but his body was rigid, his muscles tight as he lay on the cold floor of andre's room, his friend's weight pressing down on him.

cals resistence disgusted him. how could calvin not see the love that andre saw? andre's thoughts raced as he pushed calvin down, his knees digging into the hardwood floor. cal's eyes were wide as saucers, the blond lashes fluttering. but andre knew the truth. deep down, cal knew what he was doing, the way he leaned into him, the way he had looked at him tonight. he was fucking with andre. and andre was determined to make him quit it.

his trembling hands found the button of cal's cargo pants, fumbling with the cold metal. the sound was deafening in the quiet room, a stark contrast to the rhythmic throb of their hearts. it was like he could hear cal's pulse in his ears, a wild, erratic drumming that matched his own.

the zipper was next, and andre took his time, feeling the coarse fabric of the pants as he pulled them down, inch by inch. the sound of the teeth separating seemed to echo in the stillness. cal's breaths were shallow, his eyes flickering between anger and something else, something andre didn't dare to name.

cal's skin was cold and clammy beneath andre's hands as he pushed the jeans down over his hips, the fabric sticking to cal's skin. andre could feel the tension in cal's body, the way his legs were trying to kick out, to push andre away. but andre was stronger, fueled by the intensity of his emotions, the need to claim what he felt was rightfully his.

"andre. you're scaring me." cal's voice was monotone, devoid of its usual rasp or inflection. he was still as a statue beneath andre's weight, his eyes unblinking and eerily calm.

andres heart raced as he worked to free cal from the confines of his underwear. still soft, andre was dissapointed to see. it was a strange feeling, seeing cal's nakedness so openly, feeling his skin against his own. "im sorry, cal. don't be scared," he murmured, trying to gentle his voice. but the words felt forced, a lie that even he didn't quite believe. "cmon. open your mouth," he cooed, his thumb tracing cal's bottom lip. "just let me in."

cal just glared at andre, his body trembling. andre leaned down, his eyes searching cal's, looking for any sign of acceptance, of love, of understanding. he didn't find much of anything. instead, he shoved his fingers inside cals mouth, feeling the wetness of his saliva, the heat of his breath. he pulled them out before cal could bite down, and coated in spit, brought them down between cals legs.

his heart hammered in his chest as he spread cal's legs further apart, feeling the heat radiating from his body. andre knew that cal was a virgin, that he had never been with a guy before, and that made it all the more precious, all the more right. it was perfect for them. for andre to be cals first, and cal, andres. he spat on his fingers again before pushing one inside cal's ass, watching as the muscles tightened around him.

cal's eyes squeezed shut, his body tense as andre moved his digit in and out, trying to get him used to the feeling. "just relax, cal," andre whispered, his voice thick with desire. "you're good. it won't hurt if you relax. you know you wanna."

but cal didn't relax. instead, his body coiled like a spring, and with a sudden burst of strength, he kicked andre in the stomach with a loud grunt. andre recoiled, his eyes wide with shock and pain. the wind knocked out of him, he sat back, his hand coming off cal's body.

cal sat up, and andre hesitated, but the blonde made no move to get up, his eyes flicking from andre's face to the door, and back again.

andre shot forward, his hand coming up to slam cal's head into the floor with a sickening crack. the impact reverberated through the room, sending a jolt of adrenaline through his body. calvin's eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a pained yelp as his head bounced off the hard surface.

without hesitating, andre pushed himself back onto calvin, his hand snaking up to cover his mouth, muffling any sounds he might make. "shut up. my parents are upstairs sleeping. if you wake them, ill kill you."

with his other hand, he tried again to push his fingers inside, his movements more insistent now, fueled by anger and desperation. he knew calvin felt the same way, deep down. he was just lying to himself, playing innocent. calvin's eyes grew wider as he felt the intrusion, his body taut as a bowstring. but andre wasn't about to stop, after all, he was already this far in.

his hand moved in a steady rhythm, pushing and retreating, stretching cal's tight opening, his own breathing heavy and ragged. the room was filled with the sound of their harsh breaths and the quiet sound of skin on skin. cal's body was cold and shaking beneath him, his eyes staring straight ahead, unblinking.

"you're okay," andre murmured, his voice strained. "it's just me. i'm not going to hurt you. i just want to be close."

when andre deemed cal to be prepared enough, he withdrew his hand with a wet pop and reached down to free his own erection. it bobbed in the air between them, the head shiny with precum. his heart was racing, his blood pulsing through his veins, and he could feel the heat of his arousal like it was a living entity, demanding to be sated.

he pulled his hand away from cals mouth, wiping the spit on the carpet. his cock was throbbing, begging to be buried inside his best friend. "i know you want this," andre said, his voice hoarse and desperate. "i know it."

cal stared. "andre. you're not going to do this. you're going to get up and get dressed, and we're going to pretend this never happened, okay?"

that wasnt what andre wanted to hear. not even close. he grabbed a fistful of cal's shaggy white-blond hair and slammed his head down again, hard enough to make cal's teeth clack together. "stop. fighting. me."

cal's eyes rolled back in his head briefly, stars probably dancing in his vision from the impact. he gulped, swallowed a mouthful of blood that andre assumed came from biting his own tongue. he didn't know why cal was fighting it. and he didn't know why cals resistence just served to turn him on more.

his cock was rock hard, straining against his stomach, and he lined it up with cal's entrance, feeling the heat of his body, the tremble of his muscles. cal stared. his eyes looked empty, and andre would be lying if he said he didn't find it a bit offputting. but that was calvin for you, always so closed off, always so difficult to read.

andre groaned when he pushed inside of cal, feeling the tightness clench around his shaft. cal let out a muffled whine, his body jerking with the intrusion. andre's eyes rolled back in his head, the feeling was overwhelming.

the pain was written all over cal's face, his eyes watering and nose scrunched up like he was about to cry. but andre didn't stop. he couldn't. this was what they were meant to be. this was what they were meant to do. and cal knew it. he had always known it. it had all led up to this, every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every fucking thing that had ever happened between them.

as andre thrust into cal, he felt a strange mix of pleasure and anger. pleasure at the feel of cal's body around him, anger at the way cal was fighting him. but it was a good anger. it was an anger that fueled him, that made him feel alive. he hoped calvin could feel it too.

cal grunted with each thrust, his face a mask of pain, but his eyes were eerily calm. it was like he was somewhere else, somewhere far away from this room, this moment. andre watched him closely, searching for any sign that he was enjoying it, any indication that this was what he truly wanted. but all he saw was a blank stare, unsettling in its emptiness. but that was calvin. that was always fucking calvin.

so andre slammed cal's head back down again, his grip on his hair tightening until cal let out a little yelp. "act like a fucking human for once," andre hissed, his voice strained with the effort of keeping his own emotions in check. "fuck, i know you want this. you're just playing hard to get."

cal's eyes snapped back to focus on andre's face, and for a moment, there was a flash of something in them that andre couldn't quite pinpoint. anger? sadness? betrayal? but it was gone as quickly as it had come, and cal's body went limp beneath him. it was like he had given up, accepted his fate. and that just made andre want him more.

he wondered if this was what normal boys his age felt like with girls. probably not. normal boys didn’t force themselves on anyone. but andre wasn’t normal. cal knew that. and deep down, cal knew he wasn’t normal either. so maybe this was normal for them. the thought was comforting.

his hips stuttered, and he felt the warmth spurt inside cal. it was over so fast that it was almost embarrassing. he half expected cal to make some sort of snide remark, but instead, cal just lay there, unmoving, his eyes wide open.

andre pulled out and slumped beside cal, his breathing ragged and his chest heaving. the silence was deafening, the only sound the distant hum of a cricket outside. cal's body was still trembling slightly, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. andre didn't know what to say, but the silence was suffocating him.

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he tried to joke, but his voice cracked. the words hung in the air, unanswered. cal's eyes remained on the ceiling, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. andre reached out and touched his arm, feeling the goosebumps that had formed on his cold, clammy skin. "cal?"

calvin turned to look at him, his eyes clear of any emotion, his voice cold and hard. "you disgust me, andre." the words were like a slap across the face, and andre felt his cheeks burn. "you're filthy. fuckin' faggot."

the statement was like a knife to andre's gut, twisting and turning, ripping him apart from the inside out. but instead of anger, he felt a strange mix of pain and relief. finally, cal was saying what andre had always feared he thought. it was out in the open now. no more pretending.

andre sat up, his cock already softening, and put himself back in his pants. "i'll drive you home," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. like it didn't belong to him.

cal's eyes didn't leave the ceiling. "no," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "i'll stay here."

andre's heart skipped a beat. he hadn't expected that. "are you sure?"

cal nodded, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. "yes."

andre felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. on one hand, cal was staying, which meant maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t completely ruined things. on the other, the coldness in cal's voice was like a slap in the face. but he didn’t dare push it. instead, he got up and grabbed a blanket from his bed, tossing it over cal's shaking form. "are you okay?" he asked tentatively.

cal's eyes remained on the ceiling, not moving an inch. "no," he said, his voice flat. "but i'll live."

with that, calvin sat up and grabbed his pants, pulling them up with shaking hands. andre watched him, feeling a strange sense of detachment, like he was watching a scene unfold in a movie rather than living it himself. the fabric slid over cal's hips, the material cold against his skin, sticking slightly to his wet thighs. the act was jerky and mechanical, like a robot trying to mimic human movements.

cal didn't bother with his underwear, leaving it in a crumpled mess on the floor. andre noticed the blood soaking through the fabric of his pants and the way it was matting his shaggy hair, sticking it to the back of his head. the sight should have made him feel something—guilt, remorse, disgust—but all he felt was a dull ache, a gaping hole where those feelings should have been.

he watched as cal stumbled to his feet, his legs wobbly like a newborn deer's. "are you okay?" andre asked again, his voice sounding more like a stranger's than his own.

cal just looked at him, his blue eyes glazed over with something unreadable. "yeah," he said finally, his voice hollow. "i just need...i need to lie down. can we watch a movie?"

andre felt his heart drop into his stomach, but he nodded, eager to do anything to make things right. "yeah, of course. whatever you want." he jumped to his feet and grabbed the remote. "what movie?"

cal's eyes never left the floor. "scream."

usually, andre would complain about cal's choice of movies, but tonight, he didn't have the energy. instead, he just nodded and turned on the TV, scrolling through the list of available titles. when he found 'scream', he selected it and tossed the remote onto the bed.

cal walked over to the bed and sat down, his movements stiff and deliberate. andre sat beside him, leaving a respectful gap between them. the room felt like it was closing in around them, the air thick with the scent of sex and regret.

the movie started, the sound of the opening credits filling the room. calvin didn't move, his eyes staring straight ahead as the movie unfolded on the screen. andre wanted to vomit. everything was fucked up now. he had wanted this, had dreamt of it, had fantasized about it for so long, and now it was a mess. cal was acting like andre was a stranger.

fuck.

[cheeseburger443]

So this is a crazy account please nvr die 🙏❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Aw thank you! ❤️ Well, don't worry:))) I'll stay alive as long as I can lol. It's just i'm not frequently active (busy and lazy at the same time, sorry 🧍‍♂️), but if people still love my works, then there's no reason to quit:)

Being in this fandom has made me do my things not just because I like it, but because people love it too. That's how the obsession still remains >:)

It goes on for so long and sometimes my friends think I should go get some help lmao

[willsolace-loml]

regulus headcanons??

yay!!!!!

-taller than sirius by like 2 inches (5ish centimeters i think) and sirius is so bitter, reg holds it over him constantly "whoevers shorter has to buy the other ice cream!!!!"

-i LOVE trans regulus, (cuz one js think of the tragic story with his family) so thats another one

-sirius got him an art kit for his 11 birthday before he went to hogwarts and regulus still has it to this day and uses it almost every week, whenever he has art block he takes out the kit and draws smth simple till he has an idea

-his favorite artists are chloe ament (he finds her calming, and im projecting cuz shes my favorite) he likes yungblud (though hed nvr admit that to barty) and phoebe bridgers (ofc shes so reggie vibes)

-every so often he gets super super busy and doesnt have time to cut his hair, he normally keeps it short, like medium length around his face, he'll ket it grow to like lower than his shoulders (black family hair grows at like 2x speed) and people are always confusing him with sirius

-james once when up to him when his hair was long thinking he was sirius, "hey pads do u know where regulus is, i need him for something" and regulus turns around ajd james fully stops then goes "holly fuck, u should keep ur hair longer more often" completely out of breath

-he secretly LOVES theatre. james got him into it, he doesnt want to be in a musical or anything, js likes watching it

-he and sirius are both classically trained in ballet, sirius quit but regulus stayed with it, at least till he was abt 15-16, hes still rlly good, js not in a companfy anymore

theres probably more but im brain dead with a migraine rn