#shmm

[startrekvsfaceapp]

Movie posters for Shazam!

[phoenixcatch7]

RETURN SCEPTER LET'S GOOOO

[theerastour]

43 100 !

send me a number 1-100 and I'll tell you what song it was on my Spotify wrapped!

[tapakah0]

AHFGEHEN SHMM SH SM M

NOW THIS LOOK SLIKE A GOOD POTENTIAL FOR CRAZY FUNSIES

[theothin]

prompt:

Nppbeqvat gb nyy xabja ynjf bs nivngvba, gurer vf ab jnl n orr fubhyq or noyr gb syl. Vgf jvatf ner gbb fznyy gb trg vgf sng yvggyr obql bss gur tebhaq. Gur orr, bs pbhefr, syvrf naljnl orpnhfr orrf qba’g pner jung uhznaf guvax vf vzcbffvoyr. Lryybj, oynpx. Lryybj, oynpx. Lryybj, oynpx. Lryybj, oynpx. Bbu, oynpx naq lryybj! Yrg’f funxr vg hc n yvggyr. Oneel! Oernxsnfg vf ernql! Pbzvat! Unat ba n frpbaq. Uryyb? Oneel? Nqnz? Pna lbh oryvrir guvf vf unccravat? V pna’g. V’yy cvpx lbh hc. Ybbxvat funec. Hfr gur fgnvef, Lbhe sngure cnvq tbbq zbarl sbe gubfr. Fbeel. V’z rkpvgrq. Urer’f gur tenqhngr. Jr’er irel cebhq bs lbh, fba. N cresrpg ercbeg pneq, nyy O’f. Irel cebhq. Zn! V tbg n guvat tbvat urer. Lbh tbg yvag ba lbhe shmm. Bj! Gung’f zr! Jnir gb hf! Jr’yy or va ebj 118,000. Olr! Oneel, V gbyq lbh, fgbc sylvat va gur ubhfr! Url, Nqnz. Url, Oneel. Vf gung shmm try? N yvggyr. Fcrpvny qnl, tenqhngvba. Arire gubhtug V’q znxr vg. Guerr qnlf tenqr fpubby, guerr qnlf uvtu fpubby. Gubfr jrer njxjneq. Guerr qnlf pbyyrtr. V’z tynq V gbbx n qnl naq uvgpuuvxrq nebhaq Gur Uvir. Lbh qvq pbzr onpx qvssrerag. Uv, Oneel. Negvr, tebjvat n zhfgnpur? Ybbxf tbbq. Urne nobhg Senaxvr? Lrnu. Lbh tbvat gb gur shareny? Ab, V’z abg tbvat. Rirelobql xabjf, fgvat fbzrbar, lbh qvr. Qba’g jnfgr vg ba n fdhveery. Fhpu n ubgurnq. V thrff ur pbhyq unir whfg tbggra bhg bs gur jnl. V ybir guvf vapbecbengvat na nzhfrzrag cnex vagb bhe qnl. Gung’f jul jr qba’g arrq inpngvbaf. Obl, dhvgr n ovg bs cbzc haqre gur pvephzfgnaprf. Jryy, Nqnz, gbqnl jr ner zra. Jr ner! Orr-zra. Nzra! Unyyryhwnu! Fghqragf, snphygl, qvfgvathvfurq orrf, cyrnfr jrypbzr Qrna Ohmmjryy. Jrypbzr, Arj Uvir Pvgl tenqhngvat pynff bs 9:15. Gung pbapyhqrf bhe prerzbavrf Naq ortvaf lbhe pnerre ng Ubark Vaqhfgevrf! Jvyy jr cvpx bhe wbo gbqnl? V urneq vg’f whfg bevragngvba. Urnqf hc! Urer jr tb. Xrrc lbhe unaqf naq nagraanf vafvqr gur genz ng nyy gvzrf. Jbaqre jung vg’yy or yvxr? N yvggyr fpnel. Jrypbzr gb Ubark, n qvivfvba bs Ubarfpb naq n cneg bs gur Urkntba Tebhc. Guvf vf vg! Jbj. Jbj. Jr xabj gung lbh, nf n orr, unir jbexrq lbhe jubyr yvsr gb trg gb gur cbvag jurer lbh pna jbex sbe lbhe jubyr yvsr. Ubarl ortvaf jura bhe inyvnag Cbyyra Wbpxf oevat gur arpgne gb Gur Uvir. Bhe gbc-frperg sbezhyn vf nhgbzngvpnyyl pbybe-pbeerpgrq, fprag-nqwhfgrq naq ohooyr-pbagbherq vagb guvf fbbguvat fjrrg flehc jvgu vgf qvfgvapgvir tbyqra tybj lbh xabj nf… Ubarl!

[magnificent-winged-beast]

"He's like a part of me I can't let go." 😍

Jensen to Jared

Yeah! Like dandruff or eczema, he is unavoidable part of him and not easy to get rid of. Even with the jivorce... Shmm...

So. I was so happy to have my inbox working again this week since my personal blockage, or "shadow banned thing". (Also, I want to clarify, that I wasn't constipated. Not that anybody cares, but just to clarify the nature of my blocking. 😬)

But all this week was hectic at work, so I couldn't sit and respond a plethora of messages. It had to be today, of all the days. On jibcon THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR 🎄 🐚 🗑️ 😬. That of course this kind of "ask" had to land in this blog. And.... 🤔 hmmm... What was I talking about?

Oh! Bowel movements. (Aka stupid comparisons between J2 and Cockles love 😒)

Yes... I don't know dude You Say Jensen said that, but he could be talking about Misha and you edit it to make this stupid ask. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Anyways, I think this shows a significant comparison between their love.

[veronicaleighauthor]

Fun Facts About “No Place Like Home”

In my previous post, I announced my latest publication, “No Place Like Home,” in Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine. If you’re interested in reading my story, head over to Amazon and order yourself a copy. Right now, it’s only available in print, but a Kindle version should be released soon. Now onto the fun facts/behind the scenes stuff of my story.

The title, “No Place Like Home” is kind of a nod to my love for the movie, “The Wizard of Oz.” I’m sure you recall Dorothy Gale clicking her ruby slippers together three times and saying, “There’s no place like home.” The scene has been referenced and spoofed in various TV shows, movies, and songs. It’s also the final line in the 1822 song, “Home, Sweet, Home!” Ironically, “Home, Sweet, Home” was my story’s original title before I settled on what it is now.

I wrote “No Place Like Home” waaaaay back in 2015/2016. It was the second mystery/crime story I ever wrote. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but everyone who read it liked it. It was accepted by SHMM in 2017 on the understanding it would be a while before it appeared in print. Six years later, it has finally been published. I’m telling you patience pays off.

When it was accepted SHMM, I took it as a sign that I finally found my writing niche and continued writing mystery/crime stories. God only knows what I would have written if “No Place Like Home” never found a home.

Since I wrote it in 2015/2016, and it was accepted in 2017, I didn’t look at it again until the editor of SHMM, Carla Coupe, sent me the edits in 2022. Now, I remembered the story, the characters, and the outcome, etc. But as I went through it, I was thinking “oh, that’s the dialog!” “oh, that’s how I described such and such?” “oh my gosh, how did this ever get accepted for publication?!?!” Thank you, SHMM for giving me and this story a chance!

This was the first time I wrote a contemporary mystery. I usually set my mysteries and crime fiction in a historical era.

The story is set in Seelyville, Indiana. It’s a real town, east of my hometown Terre Haute, in Vigo County, and consists of like a thousand people. I’ve been there a few times.

Not to drop too many spoilers, but the main characters’ struggles with depression, anxiety, and agoraphobia. This character’s struggles were inspired by my own. Now this character’s reason for these struggles is different than mine. But what they feel during an anxiety attack, the little habits, the tics, the feelings – they are what I experience whenever I’m thrown into an anxiety attack.

The main character lives in a two-story Sears Roebuck house, which was built in 1913. The house is based on the house I live in. Back in the early 20th century, wealthy families could order house plans from a Sears Roebuck catalogue, as well as materials, and build a house according to their tastes. When my family and I moved in, we had no idea about the house’s history. A year later, two little old ladies showed up on our doorstep saying they were the granddaughters of the original owner, and they asked if they could come in and see their grandmother’s old house. This was approximately 1999, so we totally let them in (we wouldn’t do that now, lol!) and gave them a tour, and they told us all sorts of facts and the Sear Roebuck house history, what changed since they were last in the house. For this story, I did add a balcony to the house…for creative reasons.

This isn’t just a mystery/crime story…this is a gothic mystery/crime story. So, naturally, I had to have “To Kill A Mockingbird,” by Harper Lee and Boo Radley referenced.

I originally had plans to write a sequel to “No Place Like Home,” but since it’s been six or seven years since I wrote the original, a sequel probably will never happen.

I have someone named Tabitha in this story. Ironically, the Regency Era novel I began back in August also has a character named Tabitha. I really like the name.

I just want to say how happy I am for “No Place Like Home” to be published. I can’t explain why, but after waiting for so long to see it in print, I feel like in a way I’ve come full circle.

Well…until next time!

[popshere]

This is bullshit , only in certain circumstances should this be

Given a break to people who do not know how to read a

Calendar Shmm

[blus-fire-starter]

“Mmphmm. Shmm mmm hmm, bnn mm jmmm nmm mmm.”

“MMMMMMMM!”

— @blus-fire-starter

Howdy, Pyro! How ya doin'? Don't think I have any matches on me right now, partner. My apologies.

[mmphmmphmrf]

https://youtu.be/pxaLkDkMHd8?si=hGISQeUkDFk-Q6dw

Hururururu! Shmm 🔧

[mistress-light]

Seriously a new The Grudge reboot? The third movie ended with another bloody cliffhanger and now they just copy paste old concepts mixed with lot’s of cheap jumpscares.... WHAT.

[laufire]

shadowhunters hiatus meme: [5/9] favourite characters

Alec Lightwood

[Caption: gifs of Alec Lightwood from Shadowhunters with a yellow gradient. The set shows him facing Aldertree; arguing with Maryse on Jace’s behalf; confronting Aldertree about Izzy’s behaviour; smirking when nepotism gets Jace the title of Head of the Institute; and sitting in his office when he has it himself. The gifs are accompanied by lyrics from a song in the musical Hamilton, “The Room Where it Happens”: “The art of compromise: hold your nose and close your eyes. We want our leaders to save the day, but we don’t get a say in what they trade away. We dream of a brand new start, but we dream in the dark for the most part. Dark as a tomb where it happens; oh, I’ve got to be in the room where it happens.”

[gorgin-gals-muses]

(I'm just going to warn that I'm about to get DEEP into a second-by-second description of a failed attempt at vore. Read at your own risk.)

The two had moved to one of the available bedrooms, the huge prey leading her prospective pred there; Fubuki had mentioned how she planned to take up permanent residence in a bedroom like this, when she would become immobile again. Apparently other hosts were filling up rooms in the way she envisioned, growing ceaselessly for their audience without a care as to whether they would ever walk again. Fubuki took off her shoes, zipped off her bunny suit, and flopped her gigantic body onto the bed. She tried looking back at Yuma, but her enormity got in the way.

"It's okay Yuma, take all the time you need. I know I'm a very, very big meal!" She plapped her stomach excitedly. Yuma, however, was getting a bit nervous. Fubuki was indeed a very, very big meal.

"Right... I just... grab tight and swallow..." Yuma walked over to the edge of the bed, placing her hands on Fubuki's legs. Soft, dimpled, and enormous, her gams were swaddled in thick rolls of cascading pudge, trickling down from her bench-crushing hips, swallowing her kneecaps, and swelling in a doughy ring around her pillowy feet... which happened to be the appetizer to this several-course meal.

Yuma kneeled down as close to them as she could get, and tried pulling Fubuki close to her mouth. She felt her hands sink deep as they tightly gripped, fingers slotting in the fold between Fubuki's calf rolls, and pull. The sheer heft of the girl proved difficult just to bring to the detective's mouth; the inertia of a nearly half-ton body wasn't exactly easy to drag, especially not for someone like Yuma. Still, she saw Fubuki slowly near her, both feet inching towards her mouth, before they finally made entrance, gracing her tongue.

"Mmmph... shmm..." Yuma immediately noticed two things; already the two feet were a tight squeeze, filling her mouth snugly, and two, Fubuki was delicious. She wasn't sure if all of the huge detective tasted so sweet, but her tongue was currently inundated with a flavor somewhere between marshmallows and heavy cream, though thankfully, it didn't actually melt in her mouth. Yuma found herself drooling a bit at the taste, suckling a bit on the Fubuki-flavored saliva as she finally brought the feet to her throat. Her now heavy saliva helped them make the trip down her neck, but Yuma had to bend at a bit of an awkward angle as she took in more of the huge heiress, her gluttony and curiosity winning over the warning signs flashing in her head. Her cankles were next.

"Y-yuma... huff... Hnngh..." Fubuki was a bit conflicted as she was slowly dragged into Yuma's nervous maw. On one hand, the feeling of being slowly sucked and swallowed down was downright tantalizing, and feeling just her blubbery feet tightly fit down the girl's throat was yet another reminder of how completely massive she was. On the other hand, this was definitely not how she remembered it happening the last time. She didn't remember getting gulped into a stomach being this tedious and teasing... Those worries dissipated a bit as her cankles slipped past Yuma's lips. For her, it was heaven getting slurped up and licked across the rings of fat, but for Yuma, the real challenge was about to begin.

"MMMMNnn... nnnnngh... nnn..." Yuma could only moan, gulp, and slurp, labored as her mouth and throat was completely full of Fubuki, and more was on the way, like a seemingly endless feast. Cramming sweet, fatty, glistening rolls of leg flesh between her teeth was intensive, drool now dangling from her stretched mouth. It was honestly pretty painful, but the tightness all around her lips, throat, and esophagus was slightly drowned out by the sugary flavor of the massive marshmallow of a woman. The folds of fat were coming in slicker as Yuma pulled more of her in, and not just from drool; Fubuki was getting worked up into a sweat, and when she sweat, she sweat HARD. It both made the task of eating her slightly easier and also introduced another flavor to Yuma's tongue, the salty tang mixing with the sweetness of her fluffy rolls well. But as she advanced up Fubuki's legs, they in turn started growing wider and wider, filling and stretching out her mouth more and more.

"Haaah... Mhaah... Are you okay, Yuma?" She couldn't see the expression on Yuma's face, but as she slowly made her way up Fubuki's calves, the prodigious prey could tell Yuma was in trouble. It was an eerily similar feeling to trying to squeeze in an undersized pair of pants, and Yuma was going to rip. "Yuma, please... I... don't... Mmmph..." Still huffing and puffing, incredibly turned on almost as much as she was worried for her friend's safety, she struggled to find the words to get Yuma to spit her out. She considered squirming or thrashing about to dislodge herself, but she was already deep in the girl's throat; anything too hasty might damage something even more. She let out a sharp moan, panic and lust clashing together in her short-circuiting brain.

"Mmmph... mm... mm chmnnn..." Yuma struggled to pull in more of Fubuki as she felt like everything was starting to reach its limit. Tight, groaning pain from the muscles of her digestive tract were screaming out of her. She could feel herself choking on her prey. The prospect of advancing further seemed to be slipping from her grasp as finally, her esophagus took matters into its own hands and started reversing direction, rushing the huge mass of girlmeat out from where it came. "Mwmbmmm... BLRHGNHMGNmmn!" Yuma could scarcely handle as she violently spat up her prospective lunch, and collapsed to the floor. Everything was aching...

"Yuma??? Are you alright???" Fubuki felt Yuma vom her up and attempted to scramble out of the bed, legs and feet still caked in drool. She fell with a heavy THUD assfirst, wobbling hurriedly to get up and check on her as quickly as possible. "Yuma, I'm so sorry..."

"This isn't right... this wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to hurt you... I'll... turn back time now." She clutched her chest tightly as she focused her will, when she felt Yuma's hand limply grace her thigh. She turned to the weak, shuddering detective in a heap in front of her.

"N-no... I... I'm okay, Fubuki... I just... need a moment." Yuma wimpered, voice strained from just moving her sore face muscles. She raised herself up by the arms... and fell in Fubuki's huge, sweaty lap, nestling her head in her gut. Her breathing calmed down slightly.

"If you're sure... I'm... sorry I was too big for you." Fubuki led the recovering detective into a hug, hoping she could at least ease her pain.

"And that's... how I first came out. Yeah."

"From within her stomach? I didn't know you two were close like that."

The two were sitting at Fubuki's place of work, across from each other; technically as client and hostess, but it was more just an excuse for them to chat. The behemoth of a bunny girl wasn't always busy, but their schedules tended not to align to well, so any excuse to meet in person was a valuable one. Fubuki was carelessly eating away at a plate of cookies as she spoke, letting them fill the stomach that encroached the space between them almost entirely.

"We actually have been for some time... she uh, eats me pretty regularly." Yuma didn't think she'd have to admit that to anyone, but Fubuki seemed interested, and if there was anyone to confide that in, it was her.

"That's nice to hear! I myself have only been eaten once, so far. It was rather fun. I must ask her to do it again..." Fubuki sighed, thinking of the time she first met up with one brown-haired bookworm.

"Wait, you've been eaten before? Recently?"

"I guess I have seen some gigantic people I could imagine doing something like that..." Yuma could scarcely imagine Fubuki getting eaten by one of those multi-ton individuals even then; she'd still be a tight fit through their throat, even if their stomach was capable of handling it.

"Oh, that was not actually the case! She's actually quite lighter than me!"

"... That's actually possible???" Yuma was taken aback a bit... How much smaller did she mean? Could... Yuma herself eat Fubuki, if she tried hard enough?

"It sure was! It was the second best night I'd ever had..." She wiggled her hips a bit as she ate, recalling back to the time she was trapped tight within another's stomach...

Yuma sat there, taking the information in as her humongous friend sat across from them. She didn't really know anything about the person who vored Fubuki, but if they were way smaller than her... who's to say the chubby detective couldn't, too? And Yuma did have a crush on her, though she refused to admit it long ago... It might be nice for them to share that between the two of them. Fubuki already expressed she wanted to feed the girl, AND seemed to like being eaten, so putting the two thoughts together...?

"...Can I ask something of you, Fubuki?"

[heavynumbumwriting]

Capital D Depressed

Dan closed his eyes. Of course today. He could feel it yesterday, and last night. The slow numbness creeping up on him. Making him not hungry, or craving the sugary and salty foods. His reactions were slower yesterday as well. He figured that out when he and Phil were trying to film a gaming video, and he zoned in and out. Phil could tell. The second he missed a turn in the video, he was onto it. Pausing the game, and asking if he was okay. Dan had shrugged, said he was feeling the creepiness, but wanted to keep playing, incase he physically couldn’t the next day. So they did. For a while, he felt content. Mostly.

But then he woke up the next day. He only felt the hole in his chest. Seeming to be moving as it absorbed everything around him. A mumble came out of his mouth, as he turned around, grabbing a pillow and pulling it to his torso. He wondered the time, but he didn’t want to open his eyes. That was too much effort. Far too hard to check. Either the digital clock that sat on his bedside table, or reach out to grab the phone.

He had no idea of the time until he heard a soft knock at the door. By the time of the knock, he had been laying for well over two hours. It didn’t help, but it didn’t not help.

“Dan? Are you in there?” Phil was speaking very softly. Almost afraid Dan was asleep, and he’d be waking a depressed and hecking angry Dan. Dan ran over what he could say back, but the speaking seemed like too much of an effort. He’d rather just not reply. Hopefully, Phil would come into the room so he could crack open an eye. And Phil would do what he does best. Just, be there for him. “Dan, can I come in?”

Maybe a grunt? That could work.

“Dan?” Phil said again. Dan gave a small grunt in response. The door clicked open, and Phil was standing there with a box of pizza. “I got your favourite.” He cracked open an eye slightly. “It’s okay, I’m not here to talk. Just to supply the goods.” And with that, Phil left the room. He didn’t close the door completely, almost though.

Phil knew Dan lost his appetite completely when he felt like this. But he also knew Dan tried to fill himself with pizza as well. Like the pizza would stop the growing feeling of nothing.

It took him well over three hours to eat all the pizza. Slowly eating bites, and closing his eyes. Holding his phone above his face and watching videos on youtube, but not really. He didn’t really hear them or see them. They were just there to stop the silence, and to make his eyes focus.

He didn’t mean to worry Phil when he left. Leaving his phone on the bench, grabbing a coat and leaving the house. He heard his friend ask when he would be back, but he didn’t respond. He just needed to walk. Clear his thoughts a bit. He guessed. He wasn’t sure if this ever even helped. Or if it just prolonged the numb for when he came home and ended up on Phil’s lap while Phil watched TV. He didn’t really watch or listen with Phil, he’d just lay there. Feeling, nothing. But it made Phil feel okay, so he guessed that mattered. A little. It wasn’t that Phil kept him from suicide. God no. He kept himself from that, but Phil helped because he gave Dan a reason. Just one, that he would have a happy face to say good morning to, and a reminder of the fanbase. He wouldn’t give it to Phil and say he saved his life, but he would say that he helps. Phil helps Dan, save his own life. Yeah. He liked that. He liked owning his own life. When it didn’t feel like nothing.

He didn’t know why he walked when he felt this way. It didn’t make much sense. He hated walking so much, but the looming silence seemed to help the tiniest bit. He liked seeing the other people as well. Walking around. Alone, together. In a rush, or just swinging along the road, stopping sometimes to check their phones or the shops along the street. He liked to imagine what people were doing with their lives. Where they were going. He’d give them names. Today, there was Sam. He was walking along with Sam for a lot of the journey. He was a businessman. 29 years of age, worked at a firm he hated but it got a lot of money so he was content with that. There was also Sarah. She was a young girl, who liked clothes but didn’t have the money. Dan guessed she was a college student.

He walked into Starbucks, grabbing out some money, mumbling an order and his name. And waiting to the side for his coffee.

“Dan?” He looked up, there was a young girl standing in front of him. He wracked his brain, trying to think of how she knew him.

Then he remembered. A meet and greet, she went to a few and was one of the most people to ask if he was okay because he spaced out completely. 

“Uh, yeah. Hey,” he mumbled, closing his eyes for a second. “Ha, sorry. I’m a little tired.”

“It's okay!” She gave a small laugh. “Can I have a hug?” He nodded, as she jumped forward, giving him a massive hug. He hated physical contact when he was like this. It made him feel panicky and shit. She backed off after a second. “An, um. Can I have a photo?” He nodded again, as she leant over, taking a quick selfie.

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it this morning. Up way too late.” He tried to joke a bit, she smiled.

“It’s okay, oh shoot. That’s my coffee, I have to go or I’ll be late to uni. Thank you by the way! You saved my life!” She ran out of the Starbucks. Her words rang in his ears, taking over his thoughts until someone nudged him.

“I think they’re calling your coffee mate.” He refocused. Shit, they were. He muttered a thank-you to the man next to him, and went over and grabbed the mug, walking to an empty book, sitting down and staring out the window. He half expected Phil to come waltzing down. He often visited this Starbucks. Dan knew that Phil wasn’t going to look for him. Especially now. He knew how Dan was, and he knew that Dan needed to be alone. As much as he hated it.

Dan did want to see Phil. But not talk. Just, maybe see him walk past and smile at him like he was a stranger on the street like he did to so many others. He smile was a comfort, the talk was too much.

By the next time he blinked, there was a girl tapping on his shoulder.

“Sir, its nearing close time. I’m really sorry but we’re going to have to ask you to leave. My mate, Sam. He said he could drive you home if you don’t feel up to it. We see you in here a lot sometimes, and I guess, we want to make sure you’re safe.” She bit her lip, as if she wanted to say more, but couldn’t think of something to say. “Sorry if I’m being invasive.”

“No,” his voice was croaky from not speaking. He gave a small cough, trying to clear whatever it was that made voices croaky from not talking. “Jesus no. It’s okay. I appreciate it. Um, “ he paused, thinking about calling an uber, but then remembered that uber had been cancelled in London. “Yeah. Yeah, thank you so much.”

“It’s all good. He’s not very talkative, by the way.”

“That actually sounds perfect.”

He muttered a thank-you to Sam, who replied with a simple nod. He had parked a few houses down. Dan’s anxiety getting the better of him. He waited for a second until Sam drove off, and he walked up a few houses to his house, grabbing out the keys and walking into the house. He saw Phil’s head turn around, giving him a quick smile.

“Hey! How was your day!”

Dan smiled a bit in response, giving Phil a nod. He didn’t ask for more. And he loved that about Phil. He knew what Dan needed, and giving Dan normality was the best thing he could do.

“I’ve made tacos for dinner, by the way. I hope you haven’t eaten because there’s a lot of tacos.” Phil smiled again, his eyes watching Dan walking over to him. Dan stopped for a second, standing a little bit behind Phil, leaning against the bench.

“I’m not feeling great.” He mumbled. He closed his eyes. He knew Phil had turned to him. He felt Phil’s arms wrap around his waist. Dan lent in, putting his head on Phil’s shoulder.

“I love you. And it’s okay to not be okay.” Phil gave Dan a quick kiss. “Now, to taco or to not taco?”

“To taco.”

[travie-williams]

If y'all really fuckin with it😏comment "🔥" and make sure to buy tickets, send me message for other questions👀

[betweenbeatriceandbaudelaire]

LMAO the ichiruki shipper who was “ only concerned” with Orihime because she knew ichigo was bad for her blocked me after i’ve answered to them . Wow .