#this was so fun !!

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

i yearn for ponyboy angst after johnny and dally die and for once he needs darry and not soda...or more of the curtis bros grieving their parents/their friends/their childhoods together. just curtis bro angst all day every day. love ur stuff!

AGH!! TY LOVE!! this ask has been truly rottin' in my brain I thought about it durin' my ENTIRE shift today!! I hope you like it!! fic under the cut!!

also song >:D

"Pony?" Darry's sayin' my name in a way that implies he's been sayin' it a while. I blink at him 'n I don't know where I've been. My fingers are all wrapped up in my jeans, white-knuckled. I try to relax but my body doesn't listen to me one bit, so I forget it.

"I've been callin' you, where were you at?" He crosses the room 'n taps a finger gently to my temple, brushin' my bangs off my forehead.

I shrug 'n he worries at his lip. "Somewhere else, I guess." Darry looks stricken but that's how he always looks nowadays: worried.

"I gotta talk to you about your hair, Pony baby." I inhale sharply 'n Darry's face twists up a little more. He moves all slow, eases down onto the couch beside me 'n wraps an arm around my shoulders like I might fall to pieces.

"I'm not colorin' it I swear to God I'm not-" Steve had made a joke, some comment, maybe even just a suggestion, that I dye my hair back to its normal color. I don't think he meant anythin' bad by it. I dunno. I can see it more now. Darry's rough 'cause he's scared. Steve was mean when he meant to be kind. I think Dallas was like that. Rough 'cause he didn't know how to be soft.

I think I said somethin' awful to him. I was always doin' that. Bein' cruel 'cause it all hurt so bad. Last week Darry 'n I had fought 'cause it's all we knew how to do 'n I'd told him I bet he wished I had died that night. Just like-

I didn't mean it. I never meant it. I didn't know how to not mean it.

"Honey?" I shake my head. Darry's lookin' at me again with big scared eyes 'n I know I've done it again. Gone somewhere.

"Sorry." Darry cups the side of my face, there are new wrinkles alongside his eyes. He always looks like he's just waitin' for somethin' bad to happen.

"S'ok, baby. I ain't gonna make you do nothin' to your hair." Soda's beside me now, too. I don't remember when he got there. "We've been talkin' 'n baby... we need you to let us help you wash it."

I flinch. Hard. Straight back into Soda's arm 'n know he had it there, ready to brace me. "No." Darry sighs, glances over my head, 'n Soda gathers me up into his arms.

"Look, honey. I'm not gonna make you. But I think... you'll feel a bit better. You don't gotta take a shower or nothin'. Maybe a bath?" Darry tries, reachin' out 'n coverin' my hand in his.

"No." I don't know what it was. I'd gone through the damn fire 'n come out scared of the fuckin' water. That night in the fountain was a million years ago. Glory, I don't know how I had space in my head to even remember it.

But I did. Fuck. I did.

"Hey Pony? Can we try somethin' else then? If you humor me?" Soda's tone is pliant 'n a little too bouncy. It gets like that sometimes. But someone has to be alright. So we don't mention it.

He climbs off the couch, pulls me gently up 'n I don't fight it. Darry's got a hand on my shoulder 'n Soda's got his arms around me still 'n they were like this more. Since. Like if they weren't always touchin' me I'd fade right away into nothin'. Sometimes it was nice. Sometimes it made me want to bite 'n tear 'n fuckin' scream.

The kitchen counter is clear, a couple towels folded onto the table, a chair tipped back against the sink. Soda guides me over to the chair, asks me a million questions in those big brown eyes he has that I don't know how to go about answerin'.

Are you fine? Is this fine? Does this remind you of- Does this remind you- Does this-

"Look, if you sit here you can rest your head back 'n I can wash your hair out without havin' to get you any closer to the water. D'ya think... that's somethin' you can stomach?" Soda's off to my side doin' all the talkin' but I'm lookin' straight out at Darry. He's still got a hand on my shoulder 'n Jesus. Has he always looked at me like that?

He shifts his weight 'n furrows his brow. His hand comes up slowly like I'm a spooked animal that might bolt. Some kicked dog. Some scared foal. He cups the side of my face 'n it occurs to me. It's the same place he'd once struck.

Odd. Both times touched in fear. A million years apart. I'm not even sure he notices.

"Pony?" I finally tear my eyes off Darry 'n when I twist my head, he lets his hand fall back to my shoulder.

"Ok." My voice aches. It always does. Maybe from the smoke. Maybe from the cold burn of that still water rottin' in my lungs even now. "Ok, I'll try." The look that Soda 'n Darry shoots over my head is filled with such a palpable relief I nearly cry.

"Ok, baby. I know this isn't easy. D'you think you can... take his jacket off?" Soda already has both hands around my biceps, just gently restin' there like he knows I'm gonna flinch again. "I ain't gonna take it-" My eyes flicker to Darry 'n hurt flashes across his face (not meanin' it, not knowin' how not to)- "'n neither is Dar. I just don't wanna get it wet 'n mess it up, ok hon? But if it's too much I can just try my best to avoid it?"

I clutch at the collar. 'N I can hear his voice clear as day. You better not fuck that leather up. You have no idea how much trouble it was to steal.

'N I almost laugh. Almost.

"He'd kill me if I let you give it the kitchen sink treatment." 'N my voice sounds all thick in my ears. I want to laugh. I want Dallas to knock me up the back of my head for even thinkin' of it. I want-

"Oh, Ponybaby." Soda's arms are around me again. I'm cryin'. When did I start cryin'? Why? 'N it's one of those times I don't want them to hold me. Jesus. It makes me want to run. To let the ache in my throat dissolve into the burn in my lungs. I want to bite 'n tear 'n scream.

But all I can do is sit there. Stiff in the arms I wish I could melt into.

"Soda." Darry drops a hand onto his shoulder 'n gently pries him off of me. When he takes his face out of my neck his cheeks are wet 'n I don't know whether it's my tears or his. "He's not-"

Here.

For a long moment, none of us move. Like a gunfight. Or a caged animal. 'N then I drag blunt nails under my eyes 'n scrub my face 'n Darry blows out a long breath like he'd been holdin' it. He lets go of Soda 'n we all go back to pretendin' nothin' happened. Or at least I do.

"Do you... want help?" When I look down my knuckles are white against the collar. I flex my fingers 'n they burn like that time I'd split them against some socs' jaw. Or that night Johnny 'n I had slept in the backyard out under the stars 'n the cold scalded along my hands 'n cracked my skin 'n I'd bled 'n bled 'n bled-

"Don't make me do it." 'N when I'd looked up at Darry I knew he understood what I meant. I squeezed my eyes shut 'n felt hands roughened by labors of love that had done nothin' but leave him with callouses 'n scars rest at my neck. He pulls the jacket off quickly 'n the rush of winter air slinkin' through the cracks we'd never be able to seal up scorches against my bare arms. I don't open my eyes until Darry presses the bundle to my chest.

When I look to Soda again, his face is dry 'n he's wearin' this encouragin' little smile that tugs too tight on the edges of his mouth. "You ready, Pony?"

I nod. Just a bob of my chin that takes every last ounce of strength in me. Darry turns, yanks another chair close to my side 'n Soda guides my head down to the sink.

The tap flips on. A lonely titterin' against the empty bowl. I don't control anythin' that happens after. Not the low, whimperin' sob that snakes out of my mouth. Not the way my shoulders jar up 'n away. Not my nails bitin' into Darry's arm so hard they leave bloody, half moons in their wake.

"No. Soda, no. Soda. I can't." Darry smooths one hand over my forehead 'n I reach for his wrist, catch it tight 'n hold on like if I don't let go he can keep me out of that night. If I can keep him here I can't go back.

"Pony?" Soda drops down so he can see my face. Reaches out to wrap me in his arms 'n I flinch. Fuckin' flinch. Right back 'n up into Darry's lap.

'N none of us are movin' again. Soda's falterin' in place, arms half reached out 'n face a mask of hurt 'n Jesus why do I always hurt the people I love? Why can't I stop bitin' the hand that wants to hold me?

"What is it, Pony? Are you here?" 'N I can't make my voice or body or anythin' work the way it should. But before I can stop it I choke out-

"Darry." 'N Darry lets out a little noise from somewhere so far in the back of his throat it comes out like a whimper.

"Oh, little colt." 'N suddenly his arms are around me again. My face is pressed into his chest 'n I'm heavin' deep sobs that have been rottin' in my chest for too long. Since before Dallas or Johnny. Before the week in the church or that night in the park. Maybe since Mama. Since Daddy. Since the last person to call me that was put in the freezin' Tusla earth.

"I love you." 'N it's whispery 'n waverin' 'n also the surest thing I've ever heard. 'N this time when I feel Soda return to my side, feel Darry open his arms 'n hold us both like were disappearin' before his eyes I just let myself be held. "You're here."

I am.

'N then he's shiftin' 'n I'm clutchin' his shirt tighter 'n he's pettin' my hair 'n tippin' my head back 'n not makin' me let him go though I'm too goddamn old 'n too big to be beggin' for my older brother.

"Keep your eyes closed, colt." 'N Soda's whisperin' somethin' low 'n soft 'n just louder than the sound the tap makes as it drip drip drips against the sink. 'N when the water runs along my temples 'n along the line of the scar that I'll carry until I die from the night I lost two brothers I don't think of the fountain.

No.

I think about the hot afternoon I won my first track race, felt sweat slide along my brow 'n saw the sun glint off Dallas' silver tooth even from way up in the stands. Hear the whoop of his voice still marred thick 'n heavy with his New York drawl. I think of runnin' home through the lot dodgin' the fat rain drops 'n stoppin' only to let Johnny catch up. Throwin' my head back 'n laughin'. Of the spray of a passin' car. I think of Soda laughin' as he flicks the spatterin' of water left on his hands at my face when we finish the dishes 'n mama not even scoldin' us.

I think of Darry's hands wet from the laundry as he runs a thumb absently over my face. Memorizin' it with calloused fingers when he thinks I've dropped off to sleep. The gentleness of his achin' love for us. Low 'n constant 'n how had I ever missed it?

"We're done, honey." 'N then I'm buried in his chest again, Dallas' jacket pressed against my stomach 'n Johnny's letter tucked into the inside pocket closest to my heart. Bangs drippin' cold between my brow, along my nose, 'n minglin' with tears never gone long enough to dry. 'N for the first time since it all, I'm right here. 'N it doesn't even hurt. It just aches.

[sombertide-0]

werewolf Evie having some fun with Ned under the cut, it's explicit

lots of fun to draw

[xiaoks]

art collab with @haoovn

damian lineart and tim rendering by @haoovn

tim lineart and damian rendering by me

lineart under cut:

[ato-dato]

*genders your bent*

[glassrooibos]

FABIAN DON’T DO THAT. THAT’S SCARY.

[remorner]

his mind is in a different place,

will everybody please give him a little bit of space?

- - - -

second version just because i didn't know which one was best :,)

- - - -

and here are the two without the lyrics

[maybmila]

They was cold :3c

More drawings from the fun thingy thing board 🤗

[ashoss]

i couldnt stop thinking about it :P she shows up to the cave in this

[nipuni]

Photos from the event for the 40th anniversary of the historical Strawberry Train! 🚂 I have a million pictures from this day so expect more! [Part 2] [Part 3]

[mossyphroge]

[mr-malumm]

HBD johnathan egberton 💜💜🕺💨

[simple-persica]

Remembered that I love Overly Sarcastic Productions and I thought it'd be fun to do a screenshot redraw from their Loki video

[hotluncheddie]

eddie, steve

.🥞✨

‘uh, the pancakes with bacon please, extra syrup? thanks.’

eddie knows that order. he makes it every saturday night, so late it’s almost morning.

but he’s never heard that voice before, never heard it so close, right by the pass window.

he swallows. turning from the sink in the back to face out into the diner, someone’s sat at the counter, right across from him.

the most beautiful boy eddie’s ever seen.

he’s looking right at eddie, cheeks slightly pink, fiddling with a still wrapped straw. he looks perfect and cozy and adorable, hair sleep rumpled and in a hoodie that swallows up his soft lines, making him look even softer.

‘coming right up.’ eddie rasps, his own cheeks colouring.

but the boy, he smiles. ducks his head, looks up at eddie through his lashes.

eddie’s a fucking goner.

-

steve can’t believe it. his eyes are even bigger this close up, big and brown and sparkling with life.

his hands are just as nice this close up too, delicate but capable as they move around where steve can see. he sticks his tongue out a little when he concentrates. it’s adorable.

he’s the prettiest guy steve’s ever seen.

he puts steves finished pancakes in the window with a little smile, rings the bell and seems to blush even harder. almost cringing at the sound. it’s makes steve laugh, he’s cute.

and they’re still the best pancakes the midwest has to offer, at denny’s, at 3am. even sober and nervous and exited like he is.

steve can’t help closing his eyes like always when he takes his first bite. always blown away by their sweet fluffy texture. and he makes his way through them a little quicker than normal, without robin to distract him.

they taste as good as normal but he’s right there. right there watching steve eat them. something about it makes him feel shy, barely daring to look up from his plate. but when he does the line cook has the softest smile on his face and steve relaxes, tucks his hand under his hoodie to rest on his stomach like normal. finished his pancakes.

when steve looks up again, the guy is staring at his empty plate, kind of stuck in space. but then he vanished for a moment and the door to the kitchen opens. and he’s coming over, picking up the syrupy plate and he has freckles, bats tattooed on his arm.

he’s so close. he’s so pretty this close.

the prettiest guy steve’s ever seen.

‘eddie?’ steve blurts, exited, finally able to read his name tag. his names eddie.

his name is eddie.

eddie’s cheeks get pink, the tips of his ears. he looks at steve with wide eyes ‘yeah?’ he asks, voice small and confused.

steve grins at him. ‘your names eddie.’ and he watched eddie’s smile bloom, he has dimples.

‘wha’ eddie clears his throat. ‘what’s yours?’ and steve feels his heart burst, feels like sunshine and crisp leaves.

‘steve.’ he says, a little breathless.

‘steve.’ eddie whispers.

‘when do you go on break?’ steve asks, heart beating in his throat.

eddie just shrugs, eyes still wide. ‘whenever. as long as there’s no customers in.’ and steve realises he’s the only one here. it makes him blush more, for some reason.

‘make us another batch?’ he asks, deciding to be brave, leaning over the counter, just to be a little closer. ‘we can share.’ and it’s so worth it. to see the smile grow on eddie’s face, watch him nod, watch a curl slip out of his bun. watch him work his magic through that little pass window. stealing glances at steve as he goes.

-

watching steve enjoy his food is even better close up. even better than eddie could’ve imagined.

they’re sitting in steve’s usual booth, eddie’s where robin normally sits, he finally has a name for the cool girl steve hangs out with. gets to hear a little about how they met, can tell he loves her, so much. it’s sweet, his eyes shining as he talks.

so is the way steve cuts the pancakes, sweet, pushing perfectly stacked mouthfuls towards eddie to have. pancake, bacon, pancake. all covered in syrup, sticky and delicious.

eddie never really even liked pancakes much, more of a waffle guy. but sitting here, watching steve eat them, laughing and smiling at things eddie says. jaw just a little soft, upper lip smattered with hair. watching steve sigh and stretch when they’re done. that hand coming to rest on his stomach again, the way it always does, every saturday night.

eddie knows he’ll always love pancakes.

-

‘how do you get them to be so good?’ steve asks, hand circling eddie’s wrist loosely, stopping him before he goes back to his job, an orders come in, he has to go. but steve needs to ask, wants to know. wants one more moment with him.

eddie smiles, takes steve’s hand and kisses the back of it. and it’s so out of place, at denny’s, at 4 am that steve giggles, almost manic. it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to him.

‘they’re made with love sweetheart.’ eddie says, looking up at him from his bow, kissing his hand again before walking away. the napkin with steve’s number on tucked safely in his back pocket.

steve’s forearm scrawled in the black ink of eddie’s own.

steve goes home and falls straight to sleep. so late its almost morning, like every saturday night.

he dreams of brown eyes, and syrup.

<3

fin.

ty for reading! mwah!

@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @spectrum-spectre @stevesbipanic @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @acedorerryn @scoops-aboy86

[ato-dato]

Comission for @nerdietalk !!!

[blkkizzat]

kali. elaborate on choso's dick😋

pasiiii bby!!! omg yass i would love to expand on bbygyal chosito's ochinchin.

our chositos dick is the perfect size tbh. its not lung penetrating long like gojos or rip your walls thicc like tojis. but clocking in at 7.53 inches long and 5.58 inches in girth (avg girth is 4.8-5.3). so hes still above average but we don't feel like we are dying taking it hfkshfkjsd.

color wise? tip: #db6e79 (you're low key kinda scared how rosy and angry it looks) shaft: f5d8c6 cummies: #fcfbfa

you feel just the tiniest bit of discomfort. i say tiny cause this man is HUGE on foreplay so you will be more than ready and stretched out (i mean it, it dont matter if y'all in the backseat of the car he will BE your seat and want you to ride his face for at least 20 minutes, thats quickie foreplay to him LOL).

his tip is slighty larger though so getting it in or just the tip is a bit of a struggle but its not too bad onces hes inside. there's an upward curve to his dick that deliciously scrapes his tip along your g-spot when he pulls out and slams back in. oh you couldn't squirt before? best believe you a fountain now bitch shdkfdfhbksj.

before you even see his dick you see how hard its thumping in his tattered black jeans. bbygal gets REAL excited at the thought of fucking us and he's not soo overly large where his cock is too heavy to still twitch as much as it does. you will visibly see (and noticeably feel beating against your walls inside) how fiercely his dick twitches in anticipation/excitement of feeling you.

when do you first see his dick, whether he's a virgin or not, you think he's already cummed his pants once you see how the fluids are slowly but steadily dribbling out of his tip. nah, mamas, thats just his pre. you really don't even need lube at all with how wet he gets you and how much pre is coating him. that said, if you thought he leaked a lot of pre out of his pretty little mushroom tip, just wait until that man is cumming inside of you. buckets hoe. BUCKETS. to the point you think there might be something medically wrong with him...

there definitely is something mentally off tho because normally guys that cum as hard as he does (body spasms, pitchy lil whines and throaty moans), would be too sensitive to continue. but he will cry thick tears rolling down his redden cheeks and onto you at the intensity of his sensitivity as he continues to rail into you. which is a good thing too because he definitely came not even one minute in.

yeah our bbygal is a minute man but our lil minute man is a trooper (no actually he just crazy asf for you to the point of masochism) and will stay hard by activating blood manipulation. yeah RIP your coochie, you better start writing the eulogy once this happens.

best to keep our baby in positions facing you so he can every once in a while snap out of his coochie hypnosis by slowing down or speeding up based on your expressions/cries. otherwise with your face stuffed in the pillow and muffled cries, he might go a little overboard in backshots. the jiggling of your ass rippling against his flesh and splashing your fluids like waves will have him transported thinking he is in the middle of a euphoric ocean, losing himself in the motions.

this is why he might not be the biggest or thickest but you will still be just as sore in the morning cause he will fuck you the longest. oh you passed out? don't worry you gave him the somnophilia pass. you don't remember? oh baby, that's cause you were far too fucked out by the time you did. tbf you didn't even remember your own name then.

but don't worry our bbygyal is sweet and is king of aftercare... once you do eventually get that aftercare... in the morning. yeah he also fucked himself unconscious and fell asleep inside you. hugging you tightly to him you're only a tiny bit crushed and overheated. but its okay cause he is so cute the way he is tonguing your nipple and cooing affectionate noises for you like a baby even in his sleep.

just softly pet his hair and try to get a few more minutes of sleep tho... you wouldn't want to wake him just yet.

you're still tired and he will have morning wood you'll have to deal with once he wakes up. ;)