#spoiler alert: NOTHING

[sewerbaby666]

the inherent eroticism of being the last one on the bus

[concentfortea]

Me to myself: no, you can't write something new, you're supposed to be working on WIP! *gestures to sad WIP in the corner*

Also me: okay, fine, I won't write something new. *starts scrolling on social media* Happy?

[http-tempted]

When you're watching a manipulator playing mind games with everyone around and you're just waiting for him to pick you.

[slumberpartymakeouts]

you say "which could mean nothing" in a matt damon and ben affleck way, i say it in a "call me back again" by wings wikipedia page way. we are not the same.

[steddieas-shegoes]

There’s too much pressure on him.

He can’t fuck this up.

Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.

Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”

The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.

He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.

He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.

He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.

He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.

He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.

No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.

And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.

No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.

No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.

No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.

No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.

The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.

“Chill, man. Just me.”

Eddie.

“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”

Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.

“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.

Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.

His heart rate quickened.

“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“I don’t think you need to worry.”

As if Eddie would know.

“I’ll just head out there-“

Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.

“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“

Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.

So he does.

He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.

It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.

“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.

“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”

Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.

“Eddie.”

This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.

“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”

Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.

“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.

“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“

Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.

And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.

“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”

“I love you, too.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.

“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.

“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”

“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.

“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You have too.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.

Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.

“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.

“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.

“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”

“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”

“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.

“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”

“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”

“Thank god I never liked them.”

“Never?”

“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”

“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”

“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.

“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”

“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.

“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.

“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.

“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.

Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.

Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.

[dragonpyre]

au where Laios is a werewolf. this changes literally nothing about the plot except for the fact that he gets to live out his wolfgirl dreams

[maricacarica]

Being pro Sasuke means you get called sexist for disliking SasuSaku and homophobic for disliking SasuNaruSasu

[cdroloisms]

thinking about c!dream earlier on in the server just makes me sad man. like, c!dream has never been a perfect character. he's always been flawed, always been a bit of an asshole, always had control issues. but also he knew that. he tried to work on that. he and tommy were friends, despite being flawed people with their own issues that would bump into conflicts because of the ways that they differed. c!dream tried, god, he tried; he wasn't even on the server, when the drug van happened, and walked into a place with someone who was practically a stranger to him building a wall and calling for war and having turned half the people dream knew against him, apparently, for no reason that he could've known at the time, and he had looked straight at tommy and tubbo and asked if that was what they really wanted when wilbur told them that there was no such thing as dual citizenship. he tells tommy when he has to sell a disc for spirit's leather even though tommy had surrendered the discs to him at the end of the revolution because he knows it'll matter to him. he and tommy truce, multiple times, and c!dream gets tangled into conflicts that literally don't involve him repeatedly and gets targeted Because He's Dream repeatedly and he plays along with that trivia contest and he gives gifts to fundy and tommy after terrorizing them a little for fun and he plays along with the dreamon thing and he keeps getting pulled into fights that weren't his but tries to make them a little more fair when they get him involved. he fucks around with tommy and they have fun, they're friends, and when he and wilbur look like they're in danger dream is one of the first to find them and lend them real, practical, valuable aid. he calls himself "Big D" in that book and he tells the man that wrote him as a tyrant that he doesn't want to be a villain in the story anymore. he asks tommy if he's okay, and watches that kid's back when he walks alone and unarmed into manberg, and fights with him at the battle of the lake and all of that is thrown back in his face as being a lie. half the intial community structures that exist were built by him; the community house, the nether portal and hub, the prime path. during a time where every other piece of leverage got burned or killed (rip the casualties of the pet war), dream was kind of known for being one that could be fairly traded with, that would minimize permanent damage. the kills in the final control room were originally to strip lmanburg of their gear, which he had kept in a chest so it could be returned to them after the war.

like no c!dream isn't perfect at the beginning of the server. yes he's kind of a jerk sometimes, kind of an asshole sometimes, kind of neurotic most of the time. but god dammit like c!dream does try to mitigate the worst of his control issues, when they flare up early on; the initial disc war ends with tommy getting his discs back as well as a stack of diamonds, in exchange for a netherite chestplate. he's a flawed character and he's still someone pretty friendly on the whole to most of the server, he's also kind of just known for being a little weird. he gives gifts randomly. he fixed creeper holes, and houses, and went along with bits. like whatever im a c!drolo c!dream woobifier and i admit it lol but for as much evil as he ends up doing, pretty damn consistently early on, he's . friendly? kind? funny? helpful? their neighbor. their friend. c!dream isn't just some stranger that flew off the handle; he's someone they knew and lived with who had his actions taken in bad faith because the goddamn story said so and kept fucking trying anyway until he believed the lie too. like he was just a guy!! a guy they knew and lived with!!! like my god

[okwhatsgolngon]

fly high creloise 2024-2024 🕊

[81buttons]

Franco trying to speak French using random Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese words, that’s literally me in Italian class just tossing out French and Spanish with an Italian accent, hoping for the best

[platinum-roulette]

Pretty boy

[gentrychild]

While I am absolutely not interested in thinking about what would happen if Izuku was killed by one of the villains that already appeared in Anyone, I would find interesting an AU where Izuku, tired of the evil white cat, simply fakes his death.

[maeofthedead]

Fabian the moment baby Faeth is born:

[burgerrat]

"Germs Beneath Your Skin."

CONTENT WARNING: mpreg, needles, blood (mild), mentions of implied experimenting.

This is it folks, my cursed tome: a Harley Sawyer mpreg slice of life <3 nothing too explicit I just wanted this awful man to be miserable in his new mystery condition lmao

( I might actually make some OCs out of this since I got a few ideas while writing it, this might end up becoming a little AU of mine with it's own little story! )

No amount of words were enough to describe the utter embarrassment Harley Sawyer had been going through for the past few months.

He didn't know how this could even have been possible, all he cared for now was hoping that this shot of morphine lasted longer.

He carefully removed the needle from within the vein with a sigh, a prickle of blood beginning to pool in his arm before he patched it up with a bandaid, applying pressure upon it for a few minutes.

Sigh.

Now he felt much better. Normal, almost.

Almost.

Each breath he took felt restrained by his midsection, abnormally bloated and uncomfortable. It gurgled softly before he felt a kick from the inside, it seemed almost smug, as if one of the little brats in there was cuddling up.

An area on his belly bulged, a little bump lightly making itself known through the round shape that outlined his sweater- he groaned and huffed, placing a hand over it, angrily rubbing it down until he smoothed out that spot again.

"Quiet." He growled as he further prodded his stomach, just to make sure these parasites stood still in their temporary home.

After putting away the syringe, Harley leaned back in his chair lazily with one hand rested over his gravid belly, a soft moan escaping him due to just how good it felt for his back to simply not be constantly tearing him apart.

To finally be able to move however he liked. Well... sort of.

His middle limited every movement, every damned movement. It felt like carrying a bag of rocks, and to be frank- given how much he hated the three unborn freeloaders growing inside of him already, he cared about them the same way he would've cared for a bag of rocks. Nothing.

A useless burden.

"Nnnngh!" He slowly reached out a hand to grab his tape recorder, his fingers snaking across the outline of the old device and pulling it towards himself.

With a sigh, he pressed the 'record' button.

Click.

...

"March 23rd... audio recording by Harley Sawyer, head neurosurgeon of.. Special Projects at Playtime Co. Ah.. today marks the.."

He flipped some papers he'd kept note of in his desk,

"33rd week. Would you look at that, beginning of the third semester."

Harley exhaled through his nose, resting his face against both palms for a moment, letting the recorder pick up on white noise for a few moments.

"I cannot wait to be able to remove these things from me. I'll do it myself if possible." He viciously muffled into his palms before dragging them down and resting them over his chin.

"I don't care what happens to my body, I just need to be able to work. It's been getting more... difficult, to do my research when-"

He grunted suddenly, feeling another kick, one of his hands instinctively flying over his stomach, which slightly pressed against the table.

Somewhere, in another different reality perhaps, that statement would be ironic coming from him.

"When I keep being interrupted." He growled,  looking down to himself, his grip on his burdened middle tightening slightly.

"Once you are out. Once I get my hands on-  nngh..!" He grunted, clutching his stomach as the three monsters decided to give him each a piece of their mind. He tried hard not to yelp or moan in pain, keep himself quiet. This was not getting to him, it was a mild inconvenience, he didn't need anymore rest than he already had.

But his limits were thinning.

Part of his poor belly ended up with a light bruise from one of those brats kicking him too hard. He grimaced at the sight, cringing as he carefully felt the area with one hand, flinching by the lightest sensation of pain.

He couldn't blame their short temper on anyone but himself, oh well. Takes one to know one. Best that he kept his mouth shut.

The triplets weren't restricted by any contract or morals, and were fully capable of harming him up close and personal, and he couldn't even lay a finger on them.

He huffed for a few minutes- most of what he recorded has recently been devolving into monologued complaints, threats and pained groans more than actually talking. Some nights he'd find himself spending 15 minutes skipping through most of his recordings.

Not wanting to it to end up becoming 30 minutes of skipping through his latest recording, Dr. Sawyer composed himself the best he could, pulling out a paper bag with his 'light' third midnight snack in it and settling it nearby on the table as a little motivator to just get this done with so he could satiate his hunger, or, better said- his craving.

"Leith insists on 'covering' for me, how generous, bah. As if. Likely gloats seeing me like this, allowing him to be in my position would be sabotaging myself. It's my work, my discovery. No... nobody but me leads the way."

He paused, scratching beneath his chin.

"They've all been looking at me different. Ever since my.. condition, has become more pronounced. Hohoh... I know they enjoy seeing me miserable, 'frail'... those insignificant rats. Little do they know... oh, how little do they know. Even like this, I can do what they cannot, I can achieve what they wish they were able to do.

Others pity, unsurprisingly- the same who show empathy towards my experiments. I don't need their 'compassion'...it's astonishing how naïve people can be, caring for something that isn't even truly alive yet. Has no purpose. Hah..

No, no, these three are going to be special. They will be put to good use, they're mine... and I'll be giving them great purpose... It's only right I suppose, mm? Eye for an eye? For the hell they're making me go through right now."

He'd been cooking up a few ideas already.

He smirked maliciously as he entertained the thought...

Until another kick and a grumble from his belly derailed his fantasies of butchering more innocent lives into giant toys.

With a grunt and a smile turned upside down, he adjusted in his seat.

"Mmh.. oh, fine. This is enough, not like anything exciting has occured lately, or worth noting." He spat, abruptly placing a pause on his recording. His eyes automatically darted towards the paper bag, he sighed and reached out for it.

Leith had already been pestering him more than usual because of his condition, should he learn that his most ravenous craving was the very food he despised, he might as well laugh directly in his face.

The little monsters absolutely loved pickles.

He was far too prideful (and embarassed) to just request his usual sandwich at work with extra pickles (in contrast to his usual threats of 'no pickles or else' golden rule), so he'd start bringing his own lunch at work. And so he could eat pickles straight from the jar with a fork back at home while binging the TV, but that's besides the point.

He scowled at his own sandwich, as if declaring a death sentence to the food item itself, before taking a big bite out of it.

"..mhate picklesmph." He muffled quietly to himself, for a split moment feeling utterly defeated and miserable that he'd stooped that low, that he couldn't just resist the craving.

'No matter. So long as it keeps them quiet... they'll be gone soon enough.' He thought to himself.

Soon enough... 

[dyl-z]

Watching all the top and bottom discord on 911twt rn like damn yall do NOT have sex

[babkaboy]

little kubrick stare ani walking into his newly appointed master’s bedroom and being shocked about something… what do you think might happen next 🙂