#some of these are so small im gonna kms

[crazykitsch]

could you maybe do some fluff about pau?, I fell like he needs to be more recognized because damn, but maybe reader meets paus family and paus family really likes and love your postive vibe and energy, and you play with his little sister while the other watches you and paus mother said "she's gonna be such a good mother your very lucky to have a girl like her" just fluffy.

take your time stay safe xoxo

<3

Pau Cubarsí: Handlebars

pairing: pau cubarsi x reader

warnings: none

a/n: please send me more reqs about him!!

❝I wonder what you're doing for tonight and forever. I could be the rest of your life or whatever!��

PRIVATE CHAT: pau💗 & y/n🥰🥰

y/n🥰🥰:

pau.

pau

girl

pau cubarsí paredes

what if i just kms real quick!

im so scared

pau💗:

y/n whats wrong???????????

y/n🥰🥰:

i am TOO awkward to meet your family.

pau💗:

oh

is that it?

y/n they already like you because i love you

y/n🥰🥰:

how would you feel if you finally had to meet my 2 brothers?

pau💗:

i would not sleep for 6 days

At that I smile, I take one last look in the mirror and try to hype myself up. I can do this. It is not scary at all.

y/n🥰🥰:

see!

okay im ready

can you pick me up?

pau💗:

omw ❤️

I grab my stuff and put it in my bag. After 20 minutes I hear a knock on the door. I grab my phone and bag and walk to Pau at the door. As soon as he sees me he hugs me and it feels like all my worries go away.

An hour later we arrive in his hometown and now I remember why I was so worried. What if they end up not liking me? That'd be a disaster...

I'm drifting off in my thoughts until I hear his mom opening the door.

"Good evening,” she greeted warmly, her eyes kind already shining with gentle affection. “You must be y/n!"

Before you could respond, she pulled you into a soft hug that smelled like fresh linen and something baking in the oven. “Come on in. We’ve heard so much about you.” At that I look at Pau with a teasing look, knowing I'll bully him about that later.

Pau trailed behind you, his hand resting on your back as you stepped inside the house. It was cozy and sunlit, family photos lining the walls.

From the hallway, a small voice shouted, “Pau’s girlfriend is here!” followed by the pitter-patter of little feet. His sister appeared in an oversized Barça shirt, probably one of Pau’s old ones, and immediately locked onto you like you were her new favorite person. “Wanna play?” she asked, already tugging on your fingers like the question was just a formality.

You laughed, glancing at Pau, who was already looking at you with this soft-eyed expression that made your knees weak. He gave a small shrug, like you’re in now, and you followed his sister toward the living room holding her hand.

Time passed in the warmest blur—blanket forts, stuffed animals, and pretend tea parties with imaginary guests. You let her put clips in your hair, the pretty flower ones

.

Meanwhile, Pau leaned against the doorway, one hand in his pocket, watching. His dad had joined him at some point, quietly observing the way you moved with his daughter; gentle and patient.

And beside him, Pau’s mom smiled like she’d already decided everything.

“I can see you two lasting,” she whispered, eyes never leaving you. “She'd be a great mother.”

Pau didn’t even blink. “I really hope we do,” he said. “And she'd be a great one.”

You glanced up then, hair full of sparkly clips, cheeks flushed with laughter, catching his gaze—and you saw it in his eyes.

In that moment you realized just how deeply he adored you.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Steamy｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

Stolen shampoo, hot shower and a perky little ass

Warnings: fluff, nudity but no smut, domestic fluff, some crack humour, implied smut WC: 564

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

You were absolutely covered in sweat and grime, a result of letting Sam pick your hiking trail for the day and of course he picked one that would give you a ‘challenge’. 10 miles of mostly uphill terrain later, you were so ready for a hot shower and a nap with your boyfriend. 

Your clothes came off piece by piece as you stumbled through your apartment until you reached the bathroom, where the shower was already running. You smirked as you tugged off your panties and slowly opened the door, revealing the site of a lifetime. 

The steam made his pale skin glow under the bathroom light. Water rolled down the defined muscles of Steve’s back, droplets getting caught in the divots and valleys of his shoulder blades and the small dimples at the base of his spine, leading right to the perky ass of your dreams. 

You bit your lip, it was far too tempting.

Your hand whistled as it flew through the air and collided with his perfect cheek with a satisfying smack. Steve immediately froze up, his hands still buried in his hair where he had been massaging in shampoo. Your smirk widened as he slowly turned to face you, his pretty blue eyes wide.

“Did you just… slap my ass?” 

“And what are you gonna do about it doll?” You retorted with Steve’s usual line when he was the one to smack your ass. He glared at you so hard he didn’t even notice that you were completely naked. You let your own gaze drift downwards, following a particularly fat drop of water as it rolled down his torso. It raced between his toned abs before getting lost in the thick patch of hair right at the base of his pelvis.

Your eyes wandered lower but before you could go down any further, Steve’s hands flew to cover himself. “You’re objectifying me.” He whined yet his bright red cheeks gave away just how much he enjoyed your attention.

“You like it.” You stepped into the shower, letting out a happy groan as the hot water washed over your sore muscles. Your boyfriend wrapped a muscular arm around your thick waist and tugged you into his chest.

“How was the hike?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“It was fine but you need to tell Sam-“ You paused and sniffed at Steve. He raised an eyebrow at you but you ignored it and instead wound your fingers into his hair to pull him to your level. You buried your nose against his scalp and inhaled deeply. “Did you use my shampoo?”

“You weren’t supposed to be home yet?”

“How. Dare. You. Do you know how much that stuff costs! I only use it for special occasions!” You slapped a hand against his chest, purposefully ignoring the way he was flexing his pecs. Steve caught your wrists in one big hand. You thrashed playfully in his hold.

“Hey, it makes my hair look good.” He defended.

“Oh like you need to look any better than you normally do.” You sassed.

It was Steve’s turn to smirk as he pushed his hips forward and pressed his hardening cock into your soft stomach. “I just need to do my best to keep up with you.”

“Fuck you.” 

“I’m trying.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes and leaned into him.

Request: Steve Rogers: 13,12 and28 @as-white-as-snow-love

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[cup1drul3z]

★ — Keep Me Close

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4 : ᴏɴʟʏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɪᴛ

ᴘᴏᴘꜱᴛᴀʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʙᴏᴅʏɢᴜᴀʀᴅ!ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ | 7.0ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

TAGS : Age gap, Angst, Masturbation, Car crash mentioned, Drinking, drugs, mental health problems, depression, suicide mentioned

A/N : i actually forgot to post this chapter im gonna kms

SUMMARY : You and Sevika arrive at the hotel after a long travel day, but privacy is hard to come by. Between surprise selfies, overheard questions, and accidental tension, the line between fake and real starts to blur. A day of chaotic rehearsals, heat, and unexpected confessions at the festival grounds leaves both of you unraveling—slowly, privately, and in ways you’re not ready to admit.

Thursday Afternoon

The room was what you expected—quiet, sleek, and tastefully expensive. Warm wood floors, a king-sized bed layered in crisp white linens, blackout curtains, and soft, overhead lighting that made the whole space feel calm and insulated from the noise of the lobby.

A desk with an ergonomic chair sat against the wall, plugs in all the right places. There was a full-length mirror near the closet, a marble-lined bathroom with neatly folded towels and little glass bottles of eucalyptus soap, and best of all: a tray of snacks on the credenza.

Not the kind you had to fight with the minibar over. These were complimentary. High-end, wrapped in matte packaging, the kind of snacks you usually had to sneak onto your tour rider.

You let out a small, satisfied sound and flopped face-down onto the bed, arms spread like a starfish. The mattress was perfect—firm, with just enough give—and you bounced once, kicking off your shoes as you sank into the pillows.

“Finally,” you mumbled into the duvet. “Something soft that doesn’t talk.”

Sevika lingered near the door, scanning the space like she was checking for threats instead of closet space. Her eyes flicked to the walls, the ceiling, the quiet hum of the thermostat. She moved slowly, taking everything in with that same sharp tension in her shoulders like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to relax yet.

You peeked up at her from where you were sprawled, then pulled your phone out and unlocked it with a lazy flick.

Already, your feed was blowing up—photos, fan edits, slowed-down videos of Sevika shielding you in the airport. Some zoomed so close, it looked like a movie still. People were freaking out over her. Over you.

Over the two of you.

You smiled faintly, brushed your curls back into place, and angled your phone for a selfie. Your lips curled into your signature smile, half-sweet, half-smug, and you made sure Sevika was in the frame just behind you—brows furrowed, looking mildly confused by the espresso machine on the counter.

Click.

Perfect.

Sevika let out a long, quiet sigh and finally lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She sat stiff, back straight, hands braced on her knees like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to relax yet, even in a five-star hotel room with free snacks and no immediate threats.

Behind her, you were half-curled into the plush bedding, still scrolling on your phone, about to post the selfie you’d taken—your smile perfect, Sevika caught in the background looking way too serious for someone standing next to a cart of complimentary kombucha.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of air conditioning and the faint tap of your thumb on the screen.

Then you broke the silence.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, your voice softer than before. No teasing. No smirk. Just a question lingering in the still air.

Sevika glanced over her shoulder, one brow raised. “Mean what?”

You sighed and set your phone down, turning onto your side. The movement drew her eyes before she could stop herself—how your hoodie hitched up slightly, the way the curve of your hip pressed into the mattress.

“The soft spot thing,” you said, watching her. “That we talked about on the plane.”

Sevika turned away instantly.

Too fast.

You didn’t miss it.

Her palm slid up her forehead and down her face in one slow, embarrassed drag as a quiet, sheepish chuckle escaped her lips. “I didn’t think you’d remember that…”

She looked like she was mentally kicking herself for letting that moment slip—like the admission had been accidental, like you’d imagined it.

You smirked and pushed yourself up, slow and quiet, the bedsheets rustling beneath your hands as you crawled across the mattress toward her.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t stop you.

You sat on your knees just behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her back. You leaned in, your breath soft against her skin.

Then your lips brushed the crook of her neck—barely there, feather-light.

“Do you have a soft spot for me, Sevika?” you murmured, her name spilling off your tongue like warm honey. Smooth. Intentional.

Her breath caught. Shoulders stiffened.

But she didn’t move away.

BANG!

The door flew open so hard it bounced against the stopper.

“Y/N, we gotta go to the festival grounds—totally forgot—they need you there right now!” Dean yelled, halfway in the room, already flustered and breathless.

And then he stopped.

His eyes landed on you—on your knees behind Sevika, still leaning close, lips barely an inch from her skin. Sevika was frozen, back straight as a board, eyes darting toward the door like she’d just been caught in a heist, not a moment of tension.

You pulled back immediately, your brows scrunching in disbelief as you turned to Dean. “Ever heard of knocking, pendejo?!”

Dean’s mouth opened. Closed. “I—uh—I’m sorry!” He threw his hands up in surrender. “But you seriously need to get ready, like, now. They’re doing light and sound tests. PR wants behind-the-scenes footage. Dress cool because it’s already, like, a hundred degrees out.”

You stood up, brushing your hoodie down and glaring at him, hands on your hips.

“I always dress cool,” you attempt to make a joke

Dean blinked. “What?”

“Nothing, It was a joke, a bad one clearly” you snapped, already stomping toward the door. “Just—get out!”

You shoved him backward with one palm to his chest and slammed the door shut with a loud thunk, the echo rattling through the hallway.

Silence settled again in the room.

You turned slowly, cheeks flushed, breathing hard—not just from the yelling.

Sevika was still on the edge of the bed, looking at the floor like she was trying to pretend she hadn’t been two seconds away from losing control.

And you?

You kind of wanted to slam the door on Dean’s face again.

Your palms pressed against the door, head bowed for a moment as you tried to collect yourself after nearly committing second-degree manslaughter via hotel hallway.

Behind you, Sevika finally spoke.

“Maybe you should stick to singing,” she said dryly. “Not comedy.”

You turned slowly, the tension in your shoulders still tight—but your face unreadable, quiet. The silence stretched between you like a rubber band.

Then, without a word, you reached for the hem of your hoodie and peeled it off in one smooth motion, followed by your tank top, tossing both onto the chair like they were nothing.

Sevika blinked once.

You were standing there in a white lace underwear set—delicate and pretty but unflinchingly bold. Your scar was fully exposed, a pale streak of memory across your hip, stubborn and unhidden.

Sevika’s mouth dropped open. “What are you doing?!”

You arched a brow and moved toward your suitcase, deadpan. “Giving you a show, obviously.”

She stood quickly, caught between panic and protest. “Y/N—”

“Where else am I supposed to change?!” you asked, yanking your suitcase onto the bed with a little thud. “The hallway? Want me to ask Dean for privacy?!”

“I dont know: the bathroom?!” Sevika yelled back

You furrow your brows and turned your back to her as you rifled through your outfit options, walking to the full-length mirror with nothing on but confidence and lace. Sevika’s eyes followed you—unintentionally at first.

The lily tattoo on your shoulder blade caught her eye, soft lines and shaded petals, a clear memorial inked with meaning. But as her gaze dropped, it caught something else entirely.

A tramp stamp.

Hearts—sharp-edged and spiked, bold and unapologetic ink etched low on your back, right above the curve of your hips.

Sevika swallowed, suddenly very warm.

You grabbed a pair of low-rise bootcut jeans and shimmied into them slowly, the fabric hugging your hips as you adjusted the waistband just right. Then came the top—a dark brown, low-cut, halter tank that sat soft and light against your chest, leaving your collarbones exposed and glowing under the room’s soft light.

You ran your fingers through your hair, tousling it lazily as you turned around.

And paused.

Sevika was still staring.

Caught.

“You good?” you asked, teasing—though there was a flicker of something else behind your voice now.

Sevika blinked, jaw tightening. “I—yeah. Fine.”

But she hadn’t looked away yet.

The festival grounds were a swarm of motion—early chaos before the glamour. Vendors were unpacking crates of merch and overpriced sunglasses, food trucks were heating up fryers, and tech crews shouted instructions across the open air as they set up towering speakers and lighting rigs.

Carnival rides creaked in the distance, half-assembled but already glowing faintly with bright pastel bulbs. You could hear the clatter of metal being locked into place, the distant hum of generators kicking on.

It was hot. Ridiculously hot.

The kind of heat that made your makeup melt before you even had time to sweat it off. You were already hungover from your in-flight drink binge, sunglasses perched on your nose, sipping a smoothie like it was medicine while mentally planning how many drinks it would take to get you on that ferris wheel by sundown.

Sevika trailed just a few steps behind you, sunglasses on, jaw clenched slightly like she was doing her best not to groan out loud.

She'd ditched the leather jacket hours ago—too hot, even for her—and now wore the too-tight black tank top the event staff had handed out to all security members. “SECURITY” was printed bold across her chest, right over her abs, which the top did absolutely nothing to hide. Her baggy cargo pants and combat boots grounded her, but the shirt made her stick out more than blend in.

You were vaguely aware of how many heads were turning to stare at her—not you—and you weren’t even mad about it. Just amused.

“God,” Sevika muttered, half to herself, glancing around at the dust, the makeshift booths, the speakers being hoisted on cranes. “This reminds me of Warped Tour.”

You turned to look at her, one brow raised behind your shades. “What’s that?”

Sevika froze.

Her head turned slowly. “…You’re a singer,” she said flatly. “And you don’t know Warped Tour?”

You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Umm… oh! That was popular in the 2000s, right? For, like, emos? Fall Out Boy?” You flashed her a sugary smile.

Sevika stared at you in betrayal, arms crossing over her chest. “Yeah. Emos.”

You gave her a wink and turned back around, walking ahead with an extra bounce in your step, smug as hell.

Behind you, Sevika muttered something under her breath.

It was probably a slur in the sacred language of ex-scene kids.

The rehearsal area was alive with movement—singers pacing in circles doing vocal warmups, dancers stretching and marking through routines, a few idols adjusting their in-ear monitors while staff carried water bottles and clipboards like Olympic batons. The sun beat down without mercy, sweat already glistening on everyone’s skin, and the buzz of music equipment being tested echoed in the background.

You were barely paying attention, casually scrolling through your phone as Dean talked to a festival coordinator about your set schedule and accommodations, hands flailing like usual. Sevika stood a few feet behind you, arms crossed and sunglasses low on her nose, eyes constantly scanning the crowd.

Then, out of nowhere—

“Y/N!!!”

A voice rang out like a firecracker.

You barely had time to register it before a blur of bright blue came charging toward you—shoulder-length braids bouncing, arms flung open, paint-stained ripped jeans flapping like flags in the wind. The girl wore a cropped high-neck tank and a moon tattoo inked sharp across her right bicep.

Before you could react, Sevika stepped in front of you like a wall, and the girl slammed into her with a solid oof, stumbling back and landing right on her ass in the dirt.

“The hell’s your deal, man?” the girl snapped, looking up with a scowl.

You peeked over Sevika’s shoulder—barely managing to see anything at all from behind her massive frame, standing on your toes, eyes just clearing her arm.

Then your face lit up.

“Jinx?!” you gasped, squeezing past Sevika and practically tackling her in a hug.

“Y/N!!!” Jinx squealed, springing up to her feet. The two of you spun each other in a circle like it had been years—and honestly, it felt like it had. Sevika winced and muttered something as she covered her ears with both hands like the screeching physically hurt her.

“What are you doing here?” you asked breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look Jinx up and down. “Wait—don’t tell me. Is Ekko headlining?”

“Yep,” she grinned, popping the p as she adjusted one of her braids. “And I got hired to paint one of the main murals too. Look!” She pointed toward a roped-off area across the grounds, buckets of paint and scattered tarps surrounding a massive blank concrete wall.

You turned just in time to see Dean spinning around looking for you, clearly realizing he’d lost track of you. His eyes landed on Jinx and lit up.

“Ohhh my God,” he said, suddenly appearing beside you both, teeth bared in a marketing-smile. “Jinx! It’s been forever, you look amazing!”

Jinx’s face twisted immediately into visible discomfort as he pulled her into a hug she did not reciprocate. Her arms stayed at her sides, awkward and stiff, and she lifted her hand like a warning sign.

“Haha… yeah… still married to Ekko,” she said with a forced smile, pointing to her silver wedding band and pressing a hand to Dean’s chest to physically push him off.

You furrowed your brows slightly but didn’t say anything—just looped your arm through hers like a reflex and started walking toward the mural wall.

Sevika followed wordlessly behind, eyes flicking between Dean and Jinx like she was mentally evaluating what level of crime it would be to trip your manager in broad daylight.

“When are you gonna get a new manager?” Jinx asked under her breath, leaning close to your ear.

“I’m working on it,” you whispered back.

And honestly?

You meant it.

The food truck stood out like a candy-coated beacon at the edge of the festival grounds—bubblegum pink with swirls of frosting-like paint curling across the metal sides. A striped awning shaded the serving window, and the smell of sugar and fried dough hit your nose like a warm hug.

Made sense. Dessert truck.

A girl with bright blue and pink curls stood behind the counter, grinning from ear to ear like she’d waited her whole life for someone to ask for a funnel cake.

“What can I get you ladies?” she asked, voice bubbly and sweet as the powdered sugar floating through the air.

“Funnel cake, please,” Jinx said, already pressing her face slightly too close to the menu board as she looked at you expectantly.

You froze.

Your mouth opened.

Then closed.

A quiet thrum started in the back of your head—too familiar. Too sharp.

Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe people were already whispering. Maybe someone would take a photo, post it, zoom in on your arms or your stomach or the way you chewed and laugh about it on Instagram. Maybe all those people who said they loved you would decide you were just some cow in a crop top pretending to be sexy.

“Y/N?” Jinx asked, her head tilting. “You okay?”

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the spiral, heart thumping.

“Uh—” you started, voice catching. You looked back up at the menu, reading each item like it was written in another language.

Then—

Smack.

A twenty-dollar bill hit the high counter with a sharp slap. Sevika, standing at your side, didn’t even flinch.

“She’ll take a candy apple,” she said, her voice deep and final, like a verdict.

The worker blinked, nodded quickly, and disappeared into the truck with a rustle of paper and the sizzle of caramel.

You turned to Sevika, stunned. “Why did you do that?”

You dug into your pocket, pulling out your wallet. “Here—let me pay you back.”

Sevika shook her head. “It’s fine.”

You didn’t listen. “That was really nice, Sevika, but you didn’t have to. I know times are kind of tight for you right now and—”

You pulled out a few crumpled bills, trying to push them into her hand. She didn’t take them.

Instead, she pressed her palm lightly against your chest, the money crumpling between you, her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Sweetheart,” she said, voice low, “I said it’s fine.”

The word sweetheart hung in the air like smoke.

Both of you froze.

Your eyes widened. Hers did too.

Jinx, already halfway to biting her cuticles from sugar anticipation, blinked and looked between you two like she’d just walked in on something.

Then the worker returned, holding a funnel cake and a candy apple, the awkward tension immediately slapping her in the face.

“Here you ladies g—uh… is everything okay?”

Jinx snatched the funnel cake out of her hands so fast she may as well have teleported. “Yeah, they’re fine. Thanks, toots,” she mumbled, eyes wide, powdered sugar already on her chin.

You cleared your throat, trying to reorient yourself as you reached for the candy apple, cheeks burning.

“Thanks, ma’am,” you said softly, forcing a polite smile.

The worker blinked but smiled back before backing away slowly, clearly not wanting to get involved.

The three of you walked away from the truck, sugar in hand.

Then Jinx, mouth full of fried dough, glanced between you and Sevika again.

“Uhhhh… what the fuck was that?” she asked, powdered sugar puffing from her lips like smoke.

You bit into your candy apple, sweet caramel coating sticking to your lips, but your mind was elsewhere. “Didn’t get much sleep last night,” you said, brushing Jinx’s question off with a shrug, pretending the sudden shift in energy between you and Sevika hadn’t just knocked the air out of you.

Jinx eyed you like she didn’t quite buy it but didn’t push.

As the two of you made your way back toward the rehearsal zone, the distant beat of bass and mic checks rumbling through the air, she nudged your shoulder with hers.

“Well,” she grinned, licking powdered sugar from her thumb, “I gotta finish this mural before my boss realizes I wandered off again.”

You laughed and pulled her into a hug, squeezing tight. “It looks great. I’ll see you later, Jinx.”

She gave you a playful salute and sauntered off toward the wall, twirling a paintbrush like a baton. You watched her go, only half-finished with your candy apple before tossing it in a nearby trash bin.

When you turned around, Sevika was already watching you. Neither of you said anything.

You just… looked. And then you moved on.

Back inside the fenced-off area, Dean was deep in conversation with some dancers until he spotted Jinx in the distance—bent over a paint bucket, sleeves rolled, smudges of color on her cheeks.

“Hey,” he said, sidling up next to you, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain. “You think Jinx is into me?”

You blinked at him, face blank. Then grimaced.

“Dean,” you said with mock politeness, “please, for the love of all things holy, fuck off.”

He pouted dramatically but wandered off as fashion staff approached, waving you toward the changing trailers. You followed, slipping behind the curtains into your designated space.

The trailer was cozy and familiar, done up in your signature style—baby pink accents, heart decals on the walls, cute throw pillows, soft light strips lining the mirror. It felt like a mobile version of your dressing room back home. There was even a mini cooler stocked with chilled water, juice, and soda.

Sevika stepped inside behind you and immediately crouched in front of it, yanking it open. She grabbed a water bottle and cracked the seal with a satisfying pop, tilting it back and chugging the whole thing in seconds. A few droplets slid down her chin, catching in the hollow of her throat.

One of the fashion assistants—clipboard clutched tight to her chest—was visibly blushing, peeking over the top of her notes like she was watching a forbidden scene in a romance novel.

“Ma’am,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

No answer.

“Ma’am.”

Still nothing.

“MA’AM.”

She jumped and blinked hard, snapping her eyes to you, flustered. “S-sorry! Sorry,” she stammered, lowering the clipboard and flipping it open like that would somehow save her. “So! Um—we have a few outfits for you to try. They all match the dancers.just thought it would be good to give some options”

Another assistant stepped forward, arms full of fabric, and laid a few pieces out on the pink couch.

You didn’t hesitate. You began to strip.

Sevika stood up so fast she knocked the cooler lid closed with her boot, turning to face the wall like she’d just been caught doing something illegal. She kept her eyes forward… except for one small glance. Just one. Down. And then snap—back to the wall.

You slipped into the first outfit—a shiny metallic pink halter top with a rhinestone heart charm dangling at the bust. The front slit dipped low, tied around your neck, and hugged your frame paired with a ruffled jean skirt cinched by a heart chain belt, and finished the look with pink metallic boots.

In the full-length mirror, you looked like a popstar. A real one. Glossy. Unapologetic.

But the top hem of your scar peeked out across your stomach. It curled just slightly below the edge of the halter, visible when you turned even a little. It would show during spins, jumps, anything.

You stared at it.

Even now, after everything, it still made your chest ache.

You clenched your jaw. “Give me another,” you said to the assistant, shaking your head, hands already reaching to untie the top.

But then—

“I think it’s hot,” Sevika said, her voice low.

You stopped.

The room went still.

You looked at her through the mirror—her reflection watching you, eyes no longer trying to hide.

And she didn’t take it back.

You froze, fingers still hooked in the tie of the halter top, the knot half-undone.

The fabric hung slightly loose at your chest, but you weren’t thinking about that. You were thinking about what Sevika just said.

You turned toward her slowly, the mirror forgotten, the assistants forgotten—just you and her and the words still hanging in the air like smoke.

“You… what?”

Sevika leaned against the wall again, arms crossed, face mostly unreadable—except for the faintest pink at the tips of her ears.

“I said I think it’s hot.” She nodded once toward your scar, then added, “You look hot.”

Your mouth parted slightly.

Behind you, the assistant practically squeaked, backing away with the second outfit like she was trying to disappear into the couch. You heard a frantic whisper and a giggle as she and the other assistant scrambled out, not even bothering to close the door all the way.

The trailer was silent again.

Your voice was quiet when it finally came. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

Sevika’s eyes met yours. “Do I look like I say shit I don’t mean?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The tension in your shoulders slipped, replaced with something else—warmth. Embarrassment. Maybe even a flicker of pride.

You looked down at yourself, at the shimmer of the pink halter against your skin, at the scar—raw, real, you.

And for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like a flaw.

It felt like something someone wanted to touch.

You looked back at Sevika. “Well,” you said softly, smirking as you smoothed the top back into place, “guess I’m keeping the outfit.”

She huffed a breath through her nose, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Good.”

The sun was still high, casting a gold haze over the rehearsal area as you stepped out of the trailer, your boots thudding softly against the packed dirt.

Sevika walked beside you, hands in her pockets, her expression unreadable behind her sunglasses. You kept glancing down at yourself—at the way the metallic halter hugged your body, at how the chain belt shifted with every step. Even with Sevika’s words still echoing in your head, it was hard not to fall back into that old habit of checking… adjusting… second-guessing.

You looked down one second too long and your toe caught the edge of a cable snaking across the ground.

Your body tipped forward—but you didn’t hit the ground.

Sevika caught your arm with lightning-fast reflexes, steadying you before you could do more than gasp.

She kept her grip light but firm, eyes scanning your face for something unspoken.

Sevika had been hired to protect you from crowds, stalkers, creeps, overzealous fans.

But lately… it felt like she spent most of her time protecting you from yourself.

From the voices in your head. From the weight of expectations. From the times you stared in the mirror like it owed you something.

You muttered a soft “thanks” as you brushed your hair back, trying to play it off.

She just nodded once and let go.

You reached the edge of the stage area where Dean was waiting, practically bouncing in place. He gave you a full once-over, not even bothering to hide it.

“You look sexy!” he grinned, eyes wide with approval.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Your gaze flicked sideways to Sevika instinctively, watching her reaction out of the corner of your eye.

She said nothing—but the muscle in her jaw twitched.

Dean clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s run it! I want full energy like it’s the real thing. Cameras are up, and PR wants behind-the-scenes footage later, so if you sweat, sweat cute!”

You rolled your eyes and stepped up onto the stage.

The lights blinked on. The music started.

And the rehearsal began.

You got through the first song with practiced ease, body moving on instinct—your voice hitting the right notes, your feet landing on every beat. The stage was still only half-lit, but the sound was crisp, and the backup dancers moved like extensions of your rhythm.

As you struck the final pose, chest rising and falling, sweat starting to gather at the nape of your neck, you heard it—

Light clapping.

You glanced stage left.

Jinx stood in her little roped-off corner, paintbrush tucked behind her ear, grinning like she was watching her favorite sitcom live. She was surrounded by open cans of paint and a partially-finished mural, but she’d paused mid-stroke just to cheer you on—hands clapping a little too eagerly, like you’d just saved the world.

You gave her a breathless smile and a playful two-finger salute before wiping your forehead.

The rest of rehearsal passed in a blur.

Choreography was tweaked, lights were reset. You changed outfits twice. Your dancers ran formations. There were pauses for water, quick mic checks, and tiny arguments between Dean and the lighting crew.

Sevika remained close through it all. Always nearby. Watching. Quiet. Her eyes followed you each time you crossed the stage, hands tensed whenever you so much as looked unsteady. But she never interrupted. Never hovered.

She just stood there, like a shadow made of steel.

Eventually, Dean clapped his hands and called it.

“That’s a wrap! Let’s reset for show day. Everyone hydrate, rest up. And someone please get this girl a smoothie!”

You exhaled hard, sweat dripping down your spine, heart still thudding.

One rehearsal down.

The real show was coming fast.

The trailer was quiet now, the hum of rehearsal distant, muffled by the walls and heavy heat of the afternoon. You stood in front of the mirror, your metallic top now folded neatly on the counter, the chain belt looped over the back of a chair. You’d changed into something more comfortable—just a cropped band tee and cotton shorts—but your skin was still warm, still buzzing with adrenaline and exhaustion.

You stared at your reflection.

At the sweat still glistening at your collarbones.

At the smear of eyeliner under one eye.

At the scar that curved softly along your stomach.

Your hand hovered over the small bottle sitting on the counter next to your water bottle. The label was peeled at the edge from too many times being opened with shaking fingers.

You popped the cap.

One pill. Then another.

The familiar dull rush started to trickle in, slow and warm.

Then—

Knock knock.

You jumped.

Sevika.

You didn’t even need to hear her voice to know.

In a second, you snapped the cap back on the bottle and shoved it into your bag under the table, zipping it up with a quick flick of your wrist. You took a long sip of water, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and smoothed your hair down like nothing had happened.

“Yeah?” you called, keeping your tone casual.

“I’m coming in,” Sevika said through the door, her voice low.

You glanced toward your bag. You knew she knew. You felt it in your chest.

But you weren’t ready to have that conversation.

Not yet.

The door creaked open, and Sevika stepped in, ducking her head slightly from habit, like she didn’t quite trust the trailer frame not to hit her.

Her eyes swept the room first—always the room, then you. When her gaze finally landed on you, it lingered for just a second longer than it should’ve.

“Didn’t see you after rehearsal,” she said, her voice a little rough around the edges. “You disappeared.”

You offered a tight smile and turned your attention back to the mirror, adjusting a wrinkle in your shirt that wasn’t really there. “Needed a minute. It was hot. Loud.”

Sevika gave a soft grunt of agreement, stepping closer, pulling a bottle of water from the cooler. She unscrewed the cap, then paused—watching your reflection more than your actual face.

You caught her eyes in the mirror. She wasn’t saying anything, but the air between you tensed slightly.

Your stomach twisted.

She knew. Or at least, she suspected. But she wouldn’t call you out. Not yet. Not like that.

“You were good today,” she said finally, taking a sip. “Crowd’s gonna lose their shit tomorrow.”

You laughed, quiet and dry. “Hope so.”

She leaned against the small counter by the door, arms crossed again, but looser this time. “You okay?”

You glanced at your bag—just once, briefly.

Then forced another smile, smaller now. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Sevika didn’t push.

She just nodded slowly, like she was cataloging the answer. Saving it for later.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—but it wasn’t empty, either.

It was full of all the things you weren’t saying.

The trailer door clicked shut behind you, and you stepped down onto the gravel path just as the last stretch of sun dipped below the horizon.

The festival grounds had quieted. Most of the crew was gone or packing up for the night, the buzz of rehearsals replaced by the low hum of generators and the faint thump of distant bass tests.

You looked up.

The sky was a watercolor spill—purple bleeding into orange, streaks of pink softening into a deep indigo at the edges. It was the kind of sky you could get lost in if you weren’t careful.

Sevika walked beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of her cargo pants, her security badge now slung lazily around her neck. You glanced at her briefly, then tilted your head toward the sky.

“It’s so pretty out here,” you said, quietly. “You can actually see it.”

Sevika followed your gaze.

“In the city, it’s just gray,” you added. “All that light pollution... it’s like the sky’s being erased one billboard at a time.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then: “Never really looked up much before.”

You smiled, soft and faint, as the breeze rustled your shirt.

“Maybe you should start.”

Sevika didn’t reply, but she stayed beside you, her shoulder close enough to brush yours if you leaned just an inch.

Neither of you rushed the walk back. Not tonight.

Thursday Evening 

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The sky faded from rich indigo to a deep navy by the time you reached the building, streetlights casting gold shadows over the sidewalk.

You entered the hotel room without a word, the soft click of the door closing behind Sevika the only sound that followed you in.

Then you walked straight past the bed, your bag still slung over one shoulder, and into the bathroom.

Click.

The lock turned behind you.

You didn’t even meet her eyes.

Sevika stood frozen for a second on the other side of the door, staring at the wood like it had answers.

Inside, you dropped your bag onto the counter, hands moving on autopilot. You pulled out the bottle again. The pills rattled like broken thoughts.

You took one.

Then another.

Then another.

The faucet groaned as you turned on the shower, steam already beginning to fog the mirror. You stripped down slowly, deliberately, the sound of the water pounding against the tile a numbing backdrop.

Your body ached.

Your chest was tight.

And part of you hated that she was out there, probably knowing, probably feeling it—but saying nothing.

You stepped into the shower and let the heat wash over you, eyes shut, water rushing down your back as you pressed your forehead to the cool tile wall.

Trying to breathe. Trying not to drown.

Steam billowed around you, wrapping your body in a cocoon of warmth that did nothing to settle the cold sinking deep in your chest.

You stood under the stream, head bowed, water cascading over your shoulders and down your back, masking the burn behind your eyes. You pressed your palms flat against the tile, letting the water thunder over you like it might wash the thoughts out too.

It didn’t.

You stayed in there until your fingers wrinkled and the room was thick with fog, your heartbeat heavy behind your ribs. The pills dulled the edge, sure—but not enough. Not in the way you hoped. Just enough to make everything feel far away. Floaty.

You finally stepped out, wrapping yourself in a towel as the mirror slowly began to clear, the outline of your face appearing in the fogged glass like a ghost.

You stared at yourself again.

Still you. Still that same scar, peeking just above your hipbone. Still that same ache behind your eyes.

You cracked the door open a few inches, steam rolling out past your bare legs and flushed skin. You didn’t hear anything at first, but as you stepped into the room, you spotted Sevika sitting on the edge of the bed.

She hadn’t changed. Still in her cargo pants, boots unlaced. Her elbows rested on her knees, head bowed slightly, one hand running along the back of her neck like she’d been sitting there thinking too hard for too long.

She looked up when you stepped out, eyes scanning you quickly—not in a lingering way. Not right now.

Just… checking. Making sure you were real. That you were still there.

You said nothing.

Neither did she.

The silence sat between you both—quiet, steady, heavier than before.

You walked past her, towel clutched tighter around yourself than you needed, and reached for your pajamas.

She still didn’t speak.

But she didn’t take her eyes off you either.

And maybe that was the part that scared you most. That she saw everything—and stayed.

The room was dark, lit only by the pale glow of the city bleeding through the window. The curtains fluttered faintly with the hum of the A/C, and the hotel bed—massive, soft, overstuffed—creaked with every restless shift.

You lay on one side, curled beneath the thin sheet in your favorite nightgown—soft, pale, barely clinging to your skin in the heat. Your leg shifted against the cool fabric again, trying to find comfort, distraction, anything.

Sevika lay a few feet away on the other side, in a worn tank top and fuzzy, oversized pajama pants that didn’t match her usual vibe but somehow suited her. She’d been silent since the lights went out, but her breathing was too shallow, her presence too tense.

Neither of you had said it aloud.

But neither of you were sleeping.

You tossed. Then turned. So did she.

Got it—let’s adjust that:

Sevika couldn’t take it anymore.

She threw the sheet off her legs with a frustrated grunt, grabbing her pack of cigarettes and lighter from the dresser. Wordless, barefoot, still in her loose tank and fuzzy pajama pants, she crossed the room and grabbed her keycard from the nightstand.

You turned your head slightly but didn’t ask where she was going.

She didn’t offer.

The door opened with a low click, a rush of hallway air brushing over your skin. Then it shut behind her, leaving you alone in the thick, heavy silence of the hotel room.

You stayed still for a moment, listening to the soft hum of the fridge, the distant traffic outside.

Then your arm slipped off the side of the bed.

You reached for your little leather backpack, the one tucked underneath the edge where Sevika wouldn’t notice. The silver stars caught a glint of passing headlights as you unzipped it quietly, your fingers wrapping around the familiar shape nestled inside.

Your breath hitched—just slightly—as you pulled the vibrator out and sank back into the pillows, heart racing with something that had nothing to do with nerves.

She was gone. Fully gone. Probably standing outside the building, cooling off or burning through half the pack.

You had a few minutes.

And you were so wound up, you didn’t even try to talk yourself out of it.

Outside, the air was cooler than Sevika expected—almost sharp against her bare arms. The hotel parking lot was mostly empty now, the festival buzz having died down for the night. A flickering streetlight buzzed faintly nearby as she leaned against the stone wall, cigarette perched between her fingers, smoke curling slow and quiet into the night.

She lit her second without thinking, gaze unfocused, fixed somewhere between the concrete and the sky.

It wasn’t just insomnia.

It was you.

The way you looked in that nightgown, slipping under the covers without a word, your back turned but your thoughts loud. The way you tried to hide things you were certain no one could see—especially not her.

She could see all of it. Too clearly, maybe.

Sevika let the smoke sit on her tongue before exhaling slowly, the weight of everything pressing in again. Her hand slid into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She stared at the screen for a few seconds.

Then she scrolled to Vi and hit call.

It rang a few times before a groggy voice answered, rough with sleep.

“...You serious right now?” Vi mumbled, followed by the sound of rustling sheets. “It’s like three in the damn morning.”

“I know,” Sevika muttered, staring at the ground. “Shut up.”

Vi was quiet for a second. Then, more alert: “...Is this about the popstar?”

Sevika didn’t answer right away. She just took another drag, letting the silence speak for her.

“Oh my God, it is,” Vi groaned. “What did she do now? Wear glitter near you again? Breathe too sexy? Say thank you with a smile?”

Sevika sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That makes two of us, babe.”

“She’s... not what I expected.”

Vi let out a sleepy chuckle. “Is that a bad thing or good thing”

“...good” Sevika said quietly.

Vi was silent.

Then, gentler: “Yeah. I figured.”

Sevika stared off into the dark, thumb brushing over the edge of her lighter.

“She’s hiding something. Lot of somethings,” she said finally. “And I don’t think I’m supposed to care. But I do.”

Vi sighed. “You always care, Sev. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Yeah,” Sevika muttered. “That’s the fucking problem.”

Sevika pushed through the hotel lobby, the last drag of her cigarette still lingering on her tongue, her head low, hands stuffed deep in her pockets. The cool night had done nothing to clear her thoughts—it only made them quieter, sharper.

She reached the door to the suite and grabbed the handle, pausing for a moment before sliding the keycard.

Then she heard it.

A sound, faint through the door—soft, breathy.

A moan.

Sevika froze, her fingers still wrapped around the handle, her body locked in place.

Her brows furrowed immediately. Ten minutes. She’d only been gone ten minutes. Was someone in there with you? Had you invited someone over?

A hot twist of jealousy curled low in her stomach, ugly and immediate. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath.

Carefully, she pressed her hand to the door and cracked it open just an inch, the room still dim with only the soft glow of the bedside lamp. And what she saw—

Her breath caught in her throat.

You were alone.

Sprawled on the bed, one knee bent, your nightgown pushed down around your waist. The sheet had been kicked off entirely, your skin glowing under the light, the soft rise and fall of your chest quick and uneven. One hand moved over your stomach, your other cupped around your breast, thumb brushing your nipple.

Your lips were parted, glossy and flushed, brows slightly drawn as you shifted against the pillows, lost in the moment—your head tilted just enough for Sevika to see the faintest hint of a smile.

She couldn’t look away.

Her chest rose and fell, slower now, heavier. Her hand slid off the doorknob. She didn't dare open the door further, didn't dare let herself be caught watching—but her feet wouldn’t move either.

Because god help her, she wasn’t angry anymore. She was starving.

A/N : after rewatching lilo and stich (the animation not that god awful live action) ive been thinking about doing a beach special in this fic, thoughts

comment to be added to the taglist!

@salsalsusu @dynamidedina @sweetvalentineheart @magnificentmilkshakearbite @pramspams @sevikas-whore @madzorwhatever

IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW STRUGGLES WITH DRUG ADDICTION, HELP IS AVALIBLE! you're not alone!

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration

[1-800reki]

Chapter 4: Bro.

i'm gonna die. i have a lisp bc im getting braces.

I KEEP GETTING MADE FUN OF MY FAMILY AND SOME RANDOM GUY IN MY CLASS KMS

anyway.

Pairing: Kusuo Saiki x GN Reader!

'Gyatt!' ← Thoughts!

"Gyatt" ← Speaking!

'Gyatt!' ← Saiki's thoughts!

"Gyatt!" ← Saiki speaking!

'Gyatt!' ← Saiki speaking to one person via mind

masterlist | next chapter!

"Why do I have to answer it?!"

You whispered to Kusuo who was currently being tugged on by Yuuta. You were over at his house because you needed homework answers. He had to babysit Yuuta since his mom was out and he dragged you with him when he felt Teruhashi's presence. The doorbell rang and he was making you answer it. "Because you owe me for giving you homework answers." He said to you as you groan.

Before you both could do anything, Yuuta opened the door. "Um. Cybor Cider Man Number Two! Come quick! You too, Cyborg Cider Man Number Two's partner!" Yuuta said dragging you and Saiki to the door. It was Teruhashi. "Oh! L/n? Saiki? What are you both doing?" Teruhashi asked with a small smile. 'What?! Why is L/n with Saiki?! And why is this little brat calling them Saiki's partner?! Okay, calm down Kokomi. You're perfect. Saiki will fall for you!' Teruhashi thought as Saiki internally groaned.

"Oh, me and Ku- Saiki, were babysitting Yuuta. I live around the corner." You said to stop yourself from using Kusuo's first name. He told you not to since it would draw suspicion. "Oh, how nice! I was invited by Mrs. Saiki so she could teach me how to cook!" Teruhashi said with a smile. 'Beat that L/n! Not only was a perfect pretty girl invited to his house, but his mom likes me!' Teruhashi thought.

"Oh, I love Ku- Mrs. Saiki's cooking! I haven't had it in so long!" You say with a smile. "Oh, you've met her?" Teruhashi asked with a tight smile. "Yeah? We're childhood friends and neighbors." You say with a nod. Kusuo tried to leave but Yuuta kept a firm grip on him. You, Kusuo, Yuuta, and Teruhashi went to Kusuo's house. He was carrying Yuuta, you were right beside him, and Teruhashi was beside you.

"Oh my! Ku, you look like a married couple with Y/n!" Kurumi said to her son looking at you, Kusuo, and Yuuta. Teruhashi awkwardly shifted on her feet. "Oh, Teruhashi, I forgot to buy ingredients and I have a meeting! Could you wait a little while while I attend it and buy the ingredients?" Kurumi said to Teruhashi, looking apologetic. Teruhashi nodded with a polite smile. "It's no worry, Mrs. Saiki! I can wait." She said with a smile.

To be fair, you weren't paying attention. Yuuta and you were having a staring contest. When he blinked, you snickered and he pouted at you. He tugged on Kusuo to tattle on you. "Cyborg Cider Man number two! They cheated!" Yuuta tattled on you. You gasp dramatically. "He's lying. You can't cheat in a staring contest." You say poking his side as he laughed. "You did cheat!" Yuuta said with a giggle.

Teruhashi could only look at the three of you. Kurumi's sentence from before ran through her head. 'Why is L/n so buddy-buddy with Saiki of all people? Saiki's hard to get close to... and L/n isn't the type he would hang out with. So what gives?' She thought looking at you and Yuuta bickering playfully. "Oh um, I actually think I forgot! My parents need me today, it escaped my mind, how about another day Mrs. Saiki?" Teruhashi said bowing to Kurumi as she smiled. "Oh, it's not a problem! I'd love to have you over another day!" Kurumi beamed with a wave of her hand.

Teruhashi nodded politely before leaving the house, and Kurumi soon followed after to head to her meeting. Kusuo sighed before turning his attention back to you and Yuuta who was pulling on your hair as you fought. Five minutes. That's all he asks for. He's never getting peace. Especially not at school, not with what Teruhashi witnessed.

taglist!: @sugurumybeloved, @freakywhenshefaded, @11sophiq, @peskybirdysya, @august-screams-intothevoid, @lovingyeet, @greeningout

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG :((

[maribou]

04|06|2025

first exam done!! i think i did pretty well on it but the short story question hello??? none of our third year classes did a short story but i answered with a novel and my teacher said it’s okay so i think im safe. now all im really scared about for this week is irish (it’s tomorrow im gonna kms) and maths because i know ill do horrible on the listening. to ignore those fears, this is what i studied today -

📚i started with a few spás exam questions and rewrote the plot, theme, ending and character notes.

📚then i moved onto a few daideo past exam questions and rewrote small notes on some important vocabulary.

📚after a small break i worked on a bit of jeaic ar scoil by completing two exam questions about the images and emotions seen in the poem.

📚to wrap up the evening, i did some quick revision on old geography notes as im fairly confident with this subject.

praying for no drama on this irish exam bc i did not study ghleann álainn and no migration questions for the geography exam.

🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬

[valenrixo]

OOHHH what kinda yandere is Saylor?

Boo boo keys number 2 (nr. 1 is Leo) I can totally help him out with his piercings, I got 12 myself, gonna get him some proper jewelry, show him how to clean it nicely, might just snap on some gloves and do it myself, have him sit on my lap as I fix him and his gross piercings up. And then he gets kisses for being such a good boy

🍓 Anon

Saylor is just the kind of yandere who makes threats if you wanna leave him and he begs for you to love him even if it’s just his body

He has a sad backstory that I’m not done writing because it’s so long but it just explains why he is so emotionally dependent.

Like he’ll let you beat him to almost death in return for a date…. Uhm,.,, guys he’s so sad and desperate please do praise him

I can’t promise he’ll stay still while you pierce him though… he like’s getting pierced but he can’t sit still for the life of him, he’s kinda like a small anxious chihuahua and how they always shake

Fun fact he has piercings almost everywhere (including nipple piercings.. and dick) he can safely do them, he wants back piercing’s though but his broke ass can’t afford it

Please get him proper jewelry the only ones he has are stolen from clearance aisles he doesn’t own any cleaner

Im not gonna lie at first I thought you were telling me to kms because I read k y s instead of keys

[sunny-reacts-to-stuff]

tma 40 "human remains" LAST ONE !!

unreality, bugs, worms, parasites, gore, physical violence, body horror, trypophobia, loud screaming, being chased, being trapped, getting lost, asphyxiation, abandoned tunnels, gun violence (referenced)

hopefully i will have some self-restraint and not touch this podcast until after exams

jon you need to quit

"need to be here, keep watch, need to be sure" jon you need a therapist before you develop psychosis

please

you are gonna end up graham'ing

you can relax my friend i can tell you're getting nervous so do yourself a favor

"bloody swiss cheese"

GERTRUDE.

TELL HIM.

martin found the body of gertrude im gonna kms

tim my guy im so sorry for you

go eep tim

here we go.

not sasha. enlighten us.

she doesn't even sound the same, jon, how do you not notice

not!sasha literally asked chat gpt for a statement

"are you okay" he is developing a delusion disorder

thats not an statement he has read, is it?

MARTIIIIIIN MY SOFT SON

ARE YOU CRYING?

MARTIN,,, MARTIN

NOOOO MARTIN

sasha isn't fine

the mint imperials seem foreshadowing

she was shot :(

the clerval part of martin is that he is whimsical despite the odds, into poetry, and appreciates the small beauty of things

the victor part of jon is that he has bipolar disorder

"that scares me far more" jon :(

im betting on elias

THAT'S SASHA'S STATEMENT NOO

really nice podcast really enjoyed it

[casually-slips-into-coma]

spoilers for iwtv s2e5!!!

initial thoughts throughout:

dubai armand in this ep specifically seems a lot happier than normal. very smiley and kind of excited? like more energy than usual. mans was ready to eat

this fucking turtleneck

loumand library dates

hypnotized security as one does

i like that armand likes to hunt his kills. thought it was a cool detail

made me think of when armand tells daniel to run in the book

daniel was there for gay sex the drugs were just a bonus

he barely registered the coffin. he was like ok ig

the zodiac killer lol

daniel struggling to get the tape out of the plastic lmao

some coke for the gums just in case

you were lonely louis (gagged him)

the extreme change in vibe from daniel shitting himself about louis being a vampire to him laughing along while louis complains about his ex

book quotes!!

daniel validating louis complaining about lestat. theyre just gossiping at this point

BIG time asshole

daniel making A Point and then going sorry and louis saying no,,,,,that🫵was astute🗣🗣

“can u do the fang thing again? i love that, man” hes just like me fr

dangerously unstable psyche ((clocked))

im kinda with her get off that bench brother😭 [about claudia leaving]

jacob the actor you are

ok this whole argument between louis and armand was insane and i replayed it like a million times

kinda love louis coked tf out

being called boring fucking hurts thats a wild argument

he called you a soft beige pillow suffocating him girl u gotta stand up

armand really locked on to the word fascinating

louis said lick my boots😝

gremlin sighting👀

“chop my hands off”👀👀👀👀

picking LINT❓❓off the sofa⁉️ ⁉️

armand mocking him “oh its so hard to be me, its so hard to kill humans, i can feel her feelings as i drain her, louis de point du lac, everyone i know wronged me!”

imitating each others accents

my vampire daddy groomed me into a little bitch holy fuck when they go low i go lower

THE NAME!! the name!! unuttered in our home for 23 years said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer!!!!

assad deserves every award my man was actiiiinnggg

she didnt love you/i know

louis :(((

“can u hear her? shes calling me…” ok what if i kms

and then louis runs into the sunlight🙃

hello loml: practical effects

sidestep the big picture get the story straight first daniel said lets lock the fuck in rn we gotta focus

“you said the worst things youve ever said to me” hes just a sopping wet cat

hes fine youre fine this is fine youre all fine

finally seeing unhinged armand ive prayed for times like these

i stand by my cancelled wife btw

small detail of different memories: in louis’ version he apologizes to armand and armand says “meaningless word” and then moves on to talk about the slanted floor. in daniel’s version he remembers the dead guy and the same scene plays out except armand explains he killed the neighbor in between “meaningless word” and how the floor is slanted

vibrating eyes

LOVING how this episode is shot. all the different angles and the camerawork and the fucking MUSIC

canon that louis fucks guys and then kills them fic writers get to it

“128 boys hes brought here—“ “he said it was 5🥺”

daniel basically saying look man ill suck ur dick if u let me go

and then armand making him kneel

armand so unnerving <3

i know its kinda dumb to point out but i love small details of vamp power. specifically how armand picked up that table like it weighed nothing and when he picked up louis

love the idea of louis being like ok just put your feet in the rocks itll help

sopping wet cat armand!!!

but also he really let louis suffer for days instead of just giving him blood to ease the pain😬

lestats voice caught me off guard genuinely

interesting that armand knows where lestat is. i wonder how the show is gonna go about it. is he in the ground??

and refusing to pass along the i love you message……….theres layers here

u left me for death :((

have i atoned for my part of paris👀👀

the armand daniel bite was very do u know what it means to be loved by death

itty bitty armand fangs

need him alive as a testament to our companionship wtf are we even talking about anymore

arun/maitre😵‍💫

the fucking sunglasses im pissing😭😭

he got that shit on tho

welcome back trinity from the matrix

also just the fact that armand came back like yum i had so much fun on that hunt😁 anyway what are you two up to😇☺️

and louis and daniel just had a harrowing 2 hours trying to recover lost memories and coming to the realization that theyve been mega gaslit for decades

armand saying exactly what louis told daniel word for word

a hunch🫢

i love this show

im so excited for next weeks episode this story is unfolding so beautifully. im even more curious now about why and how this second interview is happening. ((also am very confused/curious about what looks like a protest in the promo??))

[7-deadly-cats]

hellouuu, hope ur doing well!! ive been a ghost reader of kms (but spam reblogger shh) and OH MYYY GODDD its so AUGHHHDHDJDJISKDJDJD give me 4 seasons of them (joking)

js out of curiosity, since it's like mentioned that it's s1!rafe, would you ever do separate stories of kms but with s2-s4!rafe snd their relationship throughout the events js like kms? i hope that made sense LFNOAOA

but that's probably tiring actually nvm LMFAOO 😭😭 i could only imagine having to write up that much and you do THESE CHAPTERS SO WELL im afraid it'll take too much manpower LMFAO

Or would it js be headcanons? EITHER WAY, THEY'LL BE DELICIOUSSSSS (cause YOU are 👹👹👹), thank you so much for answering in advance, i WILL be yapping abt your chapters on my reblogs more often, at least I'll try!!

thank you for sharing ur works cause they are GOD SENT, mwa mwa, hope u have a nice day or night!! 🫶🫶🫶

GUYS I'M SRSLY GONNA EXPLODE WITH YOUR SWEET LITTLE MESSAGES OMG 😭😭

SOOOO HAPPY you enjoy this series and oh my god lord, what i'd give for actually seeing kms!reader with rafe in the show like AHHHHHHHH

also pls don't feel pressured to interact with the chapters at all, like OBVIOUSLY I LOVE every kind of support in form of notes but also my work exists to be read, no matter if you're interacting with it or just silently reading <3

yes, on paper this is supposed to be an attempt at s1!rafe. i'm well aware this is just my personal version of him and also this is still just an AU even though i try to incorporate some canon stuff, e.g. his strained relationship with sarah and such.

anyway, yes idk if you've seen one of my recent posts in which i've been rambling about how much i'd love to explore their dynamic including later versions of rafe aka s2-s4 rafe (or if it's just coincidence that you've also been thinking about it lmao) but yeah this is kinda my goal.

i mean, my priority atm is def the kms main series (which is also why i've been neglecting my other works oops) and this basically centers around them in high school and the way they get to know each other and such and i just know for a fact that i CANNOT drop these two babies as soon as this series is finished. like i physically won't be able to lmao

but as much as i'd love to do a series for each "season", i fear this is impossible or rather a crazy lot of work. if i do this i'll never be able to continue my other stuff lmao. so i think headcanons, one-shots and maybe small mini-series are realistically the best options

legitimately going crazy over how reader and s2!rafe would work out like that's been on my mind the whole fucking day.

anyway, thx sm for your support and curiosity hihhi and hope you have a good day or night as well <33

ps: i'm from europe so rn it's 9pm lolz

[reecekline]

hi guys admin rant rq

so basically out of rp i’m a server at a restaurant and so we close at 10:15 (keep that in mind it’s important)

so i’m wiping down my tables and my friend (shaelin) is at the front counting up our tips for the night when she gets a call. mind you it’s 10 already, we’re ready to leave and go home

“you guys are still open right? we’re 5 minutes away.” OH MY GOD FUCK YOU BRO and to make it even worse the lady goes “oh and i want that guy server who’s also the bartender to serve us” THATS ME.

so i’m already pissed, i’m setting the table expecting a small measly little group of friends coming out late at night to terrorize us

but no.

i was SO fucking wrong.

a TWENTY tops walks in, which doesn’t even include the two babies and little kid they brought.

i physically had to push together three tables to fit all of them, grab a new pen so it wouldn’t ink out on me, and then open the bar back up.

by the time they’re all seated, it’s already past closing (10:30) and the chefs are getting pissed at me so i’m like “hey guys i’m dallas i’m gonna be taking care of you tonight” and they’re not even like formal and greeting me and praising me for even taking their table

anyways they order about 2 appetizers each, and a bev for everyone including the kids. that’s LITERALLY 40 things i had to throw at my chefs and i felt so so bad

but it gets worse as they order their main meals. so i’m bringing out appetizers which takes forever, and they each order some of the longest and hardest foods to make and it pisses chef off SO much more.

okay by this time it’s 11:20 over an hour after we closed, they’re still eating and ordering drinks nd shit. so one lady, orders a to go meal but freaks out when i tell her the kitchen is closed and crashes out on me.

i DONT wanna talk about that.

but anyways, their bill came out to a total of around 8000 WHICH DOESNT EVEN ADD WITH MY TIP but anyways, i made racks last night like HELLA racks last night and i bought new nic so im happy

anyways good morning guys

i have work again tonight and if anyone pulls some shit like that again in kms !!

some people: @elliottcarterr @nicolettecoleman @rykercoleman @dianarosewood @celiniii @avaiaaa @genevieveiscoolll @ridleyturner @viviannajova @chughess @theashb @zayydenn @beckettfinn @aaliyahmckenna @rhysgrey @fletcherblanton @xandermartinez @miatheblonde @coralinebirlem @jackjmaybanks @kingkitt @anacamofficial @emersoncameronn @sunburnzs @ellachristo76 @selenatorres @auggiejones @lanivalee @yasssbarbie @oliviaamonroe

[love-caleb]

Helloo dear Hannah ! Sending you 16, 17, 21 22, 30 and ofc 32 for you and Caleb :'3

hi naamah! ty for sending and also making the post with the questions lol 💗

16. Who is clingier?

we both are. i think i say this a lot abt us but we’re very codependent💀 like it’s genuinely hard to say who is clingier aidjdjdjjsdjdj. idk he loves when im clingy with him and i also love it when he is so we just enable each other in that way. maybe it’s toxic but *shrug*

it’s probably me tho. if only bc he makes it that way bc he would serve my clingy nature and enjoy every second of it.

17. What do they do when the other is sick? Does it actually help?

hidden waves flashbacks

caleb is the perfect caretaker when im sick 😭 like i actually could not ask for anyone better. he makes sure im as comfortable as i can be. i have any meds i need or might need. he even cooks comforting foods to help me feel better.

when he finally lets me help him when he’s sick… im definitely not as good as he is at it 🥲 i try so hard tho and i don’t want to leave him the whole time he’s sick

21. Who is freakier and more unconventional regarding sex?

again we both are but im gonna say him bc he is so down to try literally anything if i want to. like even if im kinda like ehhh he’s like we won’t know til we try it so let’s go lmao

22. Do you share kinks? do you not share some?

kinda similar to what i said above he’s down for literally anything?? that said i a few favs that we share are breeding, edging, overstim, should i even say incest or is that a given lmao.

he enjoys the role of service dom but we do switch. he secretly gets excited when i wanna dom/be more in control and not just submissive little sister. idc what anyone says he would let you peg him. he was a bit nervous abt it the first time but he did not expect to like it as much as he does lol

30. Share something small you do to surprise each other?

he sometimes will have dinner delivered to my apartment; usually accompanied by a text saying it’s not as good as his cooking but that he wants to make sure im eating well even when he’s not there asfjfjfjjfl

waiting for him when he comes home from a mission with flowers in hand 💐 it’s cheesy, sweet, and a little silly. but the first time i did it he looked so cute and happy and shocked ughh. imagine the colonel blushing when you welcome him home with flowers im gonna kms

32. If you two were beanie babies, which would you be? (Pic please)

deer fawn for me and golden retriever for him teehee

selfship ask game link

[pmpwbrrs]

I'm pretty much in love with your off string au could you ramble more abt it .,. I'd be extremely happy to read it

Im glad you like it and thank you for reminding me that I wrote this, and giving a reason to ramble <3!! Sadly i don't have anything to really add? But I'll say what i kept to myself i guess!

I keep remembering about one of the things ghostlycoze said.

—

—

I actually REALLY like this idea. I don't think ALL iterators are gonna have this problem, because not all iterators, i like to think, associate themselves with their puppet? And they are all different. But i love thinking about how some of them look up at the sky, and see endless heavy clouds produced by their still giant, powerful colleagues(family? friends?), while they are here, small, and so vulnerable. I like to think that that the longer they stare at the bottomless, grey sky, the more they can't tear the eyes away. How they feel their new heart beating faster now, and it makes them nauseated and more stuck in this moment – because this heart is beating like a mouse's. So fast, they can feel it, they can hear it, in their neck, in their chest. And it's foreign. The sky is foreign. The choking dampness of the air is foreign, the wet cold soil is foreign. THEY are foreign. Can they be even considered an iterator? How? They are not even the same person, how can they still call themselves an iterator?

What have they done to themselves?

I don't think some iterators even manage to handle this. I think some of them, with no way of returning to a previous live, take an easy way out. Or at least risk it – after all, they don't know what the Cycle thinks of not only iterators, but of an abomination like them.

For some of them this is not freedom. For some of them, freedom is impossible to obtain, even when they have risked it all and threw away everything that made them who they were.

Or maybe, for some of them, at some point – standing in the cold, wet soil, becomes a sort of relieve. Perhaps, for some of them, the damp air and the now rumbling, endless sky, become more welcome. Maybe it's better for them, than what they were before. Maybe they'll get used to this, even if it's so hard it makes their head heavy, and their breath quickened, and even when they are not what they were, and never will be. Maybe as they breath in, they'll be reminded that they are no longer stuck because they've been given no other choice, but they are stuck on their own accord. Maybe that makes them ecstatic. Or, yet again, scared, or regretful. Or guilty. It depends on an individual. But overall, it's hard for all of them. And not all of them can or wants to deal with this.

–––

I also remember I was thinking about «what if Pebbles is saved only in Saint's era?». But the more I thought about it, the more sad and existential I became, and I never got around to drawing anything, because the idea of slowly losing yourself and all your memories terrifies me.

I think, if Pebbles is saved in Saint's time, there is no way to bring him the way as he once was. It's just NO WAY, i can't believe it. His whole body had fucking giant TEARS in it, there wasn't a single place left of him, his neurons are now squashed by 574020 kms of rot, 30942 kms of metal and dead organic and his flesh, and 2933892 kms of snow, he's a home for fauna and flora now. He will never come back. MAYBE some neurons will help?? But i don't think they will, or that they should help as much as they helped Moon.

Pebbles cannot recover fully. Of course, care and patience and not being in his corpse will help, slowly, but still not a whole lot.

I wonder how Moon would feel about him. How everyone would feel. And mainly, how Pebbles would feel.

I already somewhat explored the idea of Pebbles losing his memories. It was an animatic about his life flashing before his eyes, but wrong and twisted, and he can't remember the names of the people he cared about, but he feels guilt and shame, and in the end he gets ascended (right now animatic is abandoned).

But... If he's off string....

Imagine how painful it is to look in the eyes of a person and know that you did something horrible to them, but you can't remember what it was, and you can barely even remember who this person is. All you know is that you love them, and that you have hurt them. How would their forgiveness feel? Would Pebbles feel weird relief? Confusion? Grief? Will it even help?

Will he feel anger and an inexplicable sting of pain when they look at him with pity? How would he feel if he saw people's hope when they think he might remember something, but he just can't?

I already said that "iterator off string is not even the same person", but in the case of Five Pebbles in Saint's time, I think it applies to him even more. He's not the same person even before he gets out.

How would he feel being so small and fragile, but being aware of it, now? How aware is he, really? Has he even agreed to go off string? Could he agree? How would HE feel about the stuff I said earlier? The sky, the snow under his feet, the freezing, biting wind?

I don't like making things all dark and gloomy and no hope FOREVER only SUFFERING though. I think there are ways to help Pebbles and to heal. For all of them, really. Sure, as I said, I like to think there's not much you can do to help FP, but there are ways. And in the end, even though he doesn't have his memories, and he's scared and confused, and he's weak and small, and he's in pain, and he feels cold – he's with people he loves, and who love him. I think it's beautiful. And I think it's an improvement on rotting away in the snow and listening to the same tune until the end of time. And now he gets warm much more often.

–––

That's pretty much it? I didn't think about off string that much. I GUESS there are also some fanfiction i wrote, but ehh + I'm shy about my writing + it's russian and needs translation + it doesn't focus the on a dread of being off-string and all that, so I'm not gonna show that.

A lot of people left really interesting thoughts in tags on this post with nsh though, so I recommend you to check them out, they are lovely <3

[daffodil--lament]

presentation night gc simulator november 2024 edition

friend 1: i Hate my job !!!

friend 2: do you guys ever think about omegaverse

friend 1: oh frequently

friend 3: im not gonna answer that question. check out this yaoi

friend 4: im actively sobbing in tears inconsolable over gosalyn mallard right now

friend 2: that's some good yaoi

friend 1: Fuck.

friend 4: she was so small im gonna kms

friend 5: Had a cupcake at work today. It was enlightening

[blueskiesfillmymind]

what’s your opinion on each Blue version ? 👁️👁️

I was waiting for another ask!! Oh my god you're gonna be here for a while!! Cuz I'm gonna gush so much!!

Btw im gonna use acronyms for most of the titles of the animations and such so incase u need context.

KM - Kiss Me

LDT - Look Dont Touch

LF - Love Fool

SUASWM - Shut Up And Sleep With Me

BBYHL - Baby Hotline

WIW - wutiwant [one and two]

OTF - On The Floor

KMY - Kuruoze Miy

BMTHD - Bring Me The Horizon / Drown

LTH - Let It Happen

OL - Ordinary Life

So with that out of the way, Here. We. Go!

Kid blue [PRE-TRAUMA]

Blue's baby photos are just adorable!! Makes me wanna give his cheeks a small squishy squish,, I also wanna just- take him to an arcade,, he feels like such an arcade lover,, I wish to pamper him and treat him so much better, I remember when we were kids, we made mud pies and played in the rain together, and honestly those childhood memories makes me all the more happy that we've come so far,, I dont have much else to say other than he's a cutie patootie :3

Adult Blue [PRE-TRAUMA | KM - LDT -SUASWM]

My oh my,, he's such a flirt! His warm soft smug smile, his smaller more awkward moments when i flirt back with him are pure bliss,, the way he peppers me with kisses and always leans on me whenever he needs breaks from his work,, he's my handsy handsome boy!! And he loves me sosomuch,,, The way he'd give me sly glances whenever possible,, and his lovely tooth gap- Have I ever said how much I love his tooth gap? God he's seriously so lovely,, hearing him whistle simple tunes while we walk side by side,, hhrrgsggs

Mild Blue [SLBB - WIW1]

He has such a wounded heart,, it makes me wanna bitch slap pink even more whenever I think of this version of blue, even without his mouth he's quite kissable, he's more quiet than most of the other versions, yet all I can do is softly caress his cheeks, and passionately kiss him, mouth or not,, the way we'd lay together in comfortable silence as he boops his no-mouth against my own mouth, he actually loves doing that with me, kissing my cheeks even though he has no mouth, aside for his devilish smile ofc,, it's like he kisses me through a face mask,,

Heart Blue [BBYHL]

Sly,, Playboy,,, Bnuy,, BLU- no joke he's such a slut for pampering me,, and I mean that in the most loving way ever. I mean cmon, he wears a light pink sweater layered over a button up shirt, his sleazy black pants and lastly his lovely fluffy hair,, his heart glasses adorning his framed face as he looks at me with his tinted glasses,, gosh I'd be here for Years just to gush about his eyes,, The way he sometimes slips his hand near my waist to pull me closer sometimes,, gives me butterflies everytime!!

Hypersexual Blue [KMY]

The fact that when I've fallen for blue,, he was my first taste of- HOLY FUCK HIS TONGUE- May I say that his tongue knows how to knot cherry stems,, his tongue dancing along mine whenever we make out is pure bliss,, sure his mouth tastes like alcohol and booze,, but my god it makes me want to get drunk by his sensual touches,, and whenever we have that special moment,, its all like a wet dream,, his tongue is not only talented but he's surprisingly flexible, in a way he is a little stiff in some places, but he's still flexy,,

Cyan Blue [BMTHD]

Fire, Pain, just his pure denial ignites his rage, the way he sees himself is such a sad feeling, aswell as the way he's stuck in this episode of denying his entire abuse just pains me so so so badly,, During it all, he was so afraid of touching me.. almost isolating himself from me and other awful things, we ended up taking a small healthy break from one another.. but then after he healed,, he apologized for his manic behavior,, and I accepted him in a heartbeat,, having to finally feel his face again was such a blessing,, and I could tell he missed my touch aswell,,

White blue [WIW2]

All I'm going to say,, is I'm proud of him atleast,, finding his scars all over his body made me feel so sorry for him,, and when I watched the video, I felt so hurt.. the way he was silenced for being a man? I'd say that's rlly sexist. but that's not what I'm gonna touch on. I've had to comfort blue, we ended up cuddling when he got back,, I sang the two of us to sleep, and when he woke up, he kissed my cheek softly and mumbled a soft "Thank you",, aaughhh,,,

[Side note 4 paranoid: Whenever blue had those paranoid episodes, I've found another way of comforting them with my voice,, and now whenever he goes through those episodes, he'll either stand there frozen or just get to me for my comfort]

Grey Blue [LTH]

He was in such a spiral,, I felt super super awful for how the aftermath definitely made a number on him, every night he'd cling on me, to which I'd always nuzzle him to remind him how much he means to me,, every night he tears up and cried, whenever I'd see his dried tears, I'd clean them up for him,, aswell as brushing his hair that he was growing out, ngl I missed his mullet,, but hey, I'll love him no matter what <3

End Blue [OL]

... i felt so awful, and absolutely depressed when he began thinking of the things he's always been comparing himself to,, "My existence makes everyone uncomfortable, I'm a peice of shit!" Yet here I am. Thinkin the polar opposite, we both have had therapy times and during the end of it, I'd always ask for a hug, if he accepts, I'd rock him back and forth and hum a soft comforting tune,, if he dosnt want a hug, I'd ask for an alternative, and usually most time we'd always end up cuddling afterwards, I'm apart of his healing, I never want him to go through that ever again,

I'm not gonna talk about the abuser version of blue, he's nothing but a figure of his imagination, he isnt real. Not to me, and never will be real to blue,,

Anyways!!! Yeah,,, as you can tell i love blue :3

[ohbabydollie]

True, you might have to make some hcs about ALL the body types; The cuddly plus sizes, the slender and ethereal tall drinks of waters, the tinies (they’re ether wholesome or a firecracker, there’s no inbetween), the bisexual butch like ladies or nonbins, the fems with muscles that step on you <3, twinks/femboys (that’s me!), and handsome women who remind of an anime character and make me feel things downstairs 🫠💕, female jschlatt…. jus’ female jschlatt…. I imagine her persona being akin to a Karen and those women from Brooklyn who smoke and work at a diner…. but actually she’s my wife….. my soft dom mommy wife who steps on me…. 🤤🥴💕💕💕💕

No weirdo girls who say “I have DDs and I’m a good catholic girl” like bitch, have you heard of a JOKE, a BIT, and a P E R S O N A before??????

Jesus H. Christ of Nazareth… I’m gonna kms in Minecraft in Minecraft……..

~🍓🍰

i got a few requests for hcs for different body types n im trying to get it done bc u guys deserve representation too!

i feel like schlatt would be a super cool girl to hang around, like the one every girl has a small crush on and a true girl’s girl. she’d be so pretty n tall, probably on the thicker side n she’s mean to men esp the misogynists, she gets a little nicer when they get to know her but to girls? she’s the sweetest, super polite, supportive, etc. she loves her women

no but srsly the ones that r like “date me! date me!” r so fucking weirdddd like what’s wrong w u, why r u begging a random 24 y/o man to date you when he doesn’t even know who you are and you don’t know him like that??

jfc, just download character.ai or smth if ur gonna be creepy 😭😭

[yourmommasdate]

idk if anyone's really gonna read this but i kinda just need to tap for a minute. i met this girl, and i met her like years ago and i fell inlove with her. fast forward to this year, i see her and I'm just like 'damn, she just as pretty as the day i first seen her' so i follow her on TikTok after like a month of stalking and she follows me back. we wasn't really texting until like a few days later with she posted her best friend saying how much she loved her; i hearted it and replied "this is so sweet; she's so pretty" to start a convo. a few minutes later, she replied "she's so twin lmao" and we started to talk as friends because she had a girlfriend. fast forward again like a day later, my best friend had to come clean about something. she tells me that one of her and this girls mutual friends told her about how the girl believes i like her and wants to 'play with my emotions'. at first i felt like i was in power because since i already knew, i could play her. a few minutes later, i sob. and sob. and sob. so fucking hard. i really liked this girl and she just wants to play me? and how did she find out i liked her? who snitched? well we are kinda playing eachother back and forth till she posts something on her story saying 'get out my profile views. i don't want you' but she blocked out the username. she forgot to cover the last thing in the username, which was a period and it matched my username. i guess she saw that i saw it so she took it down and texted me 'that was about my friend. i wanted to make her mad' i said 'ik it was about me, no need to apologize 😭' and she apologized to me and i left her in delivered for a few hours before responding 'ok' then, i post a story like two days later with the song 'hello?' from clairo (great song btw) and the part thats like 'one click away click away' and i blocked out everything but the typed out message in the text bar that said 'you make me wanna kms. i fucking hate you u cunt' and she replied to it (it was about her) saying 'dang who dis about' i replied "some girl who js wanna mess around and not lock in" (she knows im wlw) and she said oh. then, she posts something today saying 'your chill but not my type. sorry i don't wanna mess with u' on her story with no context. i knew it was about me so i texted her about it. at first she acts clueless and deleted the story but after a few texts, we both talk about it. i tell her she's just not my type and she said 'well ive just heard around that you do like me' and i told her 'i fw studs.' and she said "oh." backtrack, she asked me on the 2nd day of us being friends 'you like me?' and i was like "wtf.?" and she said 'i heard it somewhere' and j told her i like studs and then my very loving, gorgeous, best friend, shows me a screenshot that their mutual friend (ik this is complicated but stay with me) sent to her, (the girl im taking bout is the one saying this) "she likes studs 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️" and repeats her name over and over until she replied. so i don't understand why she was texting that and the context or the emotions behind that. earlier today, i asked her 'how are you and [GF's NAME] ?.?" and she said they broke up bcuz they wasn't talking n shit and they were both too busy and going through a lot. something in my gut told me she was lying because of what i previously knew. but yeah. i needed to kinda debrief before i ended up kms 🤣😭😭🤣. sorry for the rant. small town drama lmfao 😭