candyflosskells

[candyflosskells]

Em: this isn’t what I had in mind when you wanted to do pet play

Kells knocking over a glass: Love me and feed me!

[candyflosskells]

Source: This

[candyflosskells]

Emgk scene where they are cuddling in bed with Em leaning against the headboard and kells’ head on his lap, both enjoying the peaceful fuzziness midnight brings upon them like a warm blanket. Em seems to be deep in thought, running his hand through Kells’ fluffy hair that smells of the almond shampoo they share, and kells is on the phone checking his twitter mentions.

“You tall, lanky, blond, evil bitch.” Em mutters fondly, dreamily slurs over the words.

“Hmm.” Now absorbed in instagram, thumbs dancing over the tiny keyboard as he replies a friend’s messages, the blond hums absentmindedly.

It’s too late for Em to hold back his amused snort when realization catches up on a slow night like this, and now Kells is looking up at him with half lidded eyes, phone put down. “What was that?” The blond sounds sleepy, halfway lulled to unconsciousness by Em’s gentle strokes.

“Nothing sweetie.” Em blinks at him, shifts to lie on his side, and leaves a kiss on kells’ brow bone while reaching over the younger man to turn off the light.

[candyflosskells]

Em being like Mickey from shameless and hating others calling Kelly a twink. He feels like he’s the only who gets to call the blonde that.

One guy tried to get into Kelly’s pants and Em gets  possessive. The guy glares and scoffs. “At least let the twink suck me off before you take him, he was being a tease.”

“Is that all he’s to you? A twink?” Em ask

“He gave me blue balls.”

Em looks him straight in the eyes. “Yeah?” He then kicks him in the balls, making him go down. “Now they’re black and blue.”

Another time he’s looking for Kelly, worried that the kid is lost somewhere, drunk. He looks in a club that Kells likes to go and the manager is dismissive. “You think you’re the first one looking for some twink?”

Em doesn’t say anything, he just bangs the guy’s head on the table.

[candyflosskells]

I wrote the part two of that really depressing thing I made last time. My bad? Idk I don’t think this ones as sad so that’s gotta be something, right?

This one is NSFW though so proceed with caution.

There’s fingers in his hair, rough lips on his stretched neck. The scratching of dark, coarse stubble stinging delightfully as it leaves behind a pretty pink stain upon his delicate skin. It’ll be the only evidence of this happening tomorrow, when daylight comes and he can look at himself in the hotel mirror and think, why did he do that?

He doesn’t know the answer now and he sure as hell won’t know it tomorrow either. All he really knows for sure is that he can’t lose this, can’t lose Marshall’s touch - whether it be the soft caress he prefers or the tight bruising grip he uses upon Colson’s pale skin when he’s desperate for a quick fuck.

He knows he can’t function without the man even if every time they touch since Marshall left, the crack in Colson’s fragile little heart grows ever deeper - a slow painful countdown for when the time bomb violently detonates and his heart shatters into bloodthirsty glass daggers leaving him hurt and alone once more. But why would he care for the future? When right now he’s balanced so happily on the jagged cliff edge?

His resolve didn’t last long. When Marshall called and asked to be ‘just friends’, Colson had clenched his jaw and snarled ‘acquaintances’ down the microphone, the pain too raw to forgive, to act like it was all okay when Marshall didn’t love him anymore. How could he be so unaffected? But then, then there was that one lonely night where Colson was just so exhausted with trying that he let down his guard and of course that’s when Marshall tore his way back into Colson’s broken heart.

It had been an award show, just another boring one where he’d been forced to go by the label. He hadn’t wanted to leave his bed, rejected every call, drank himself sick a couple -more than a couple -times until they came by to dress him up. A puppet on a string, that’s what he was now. ‘You’re doing it Colson! It’ll be good for appearances.’ They had said, ‘It’ll show everyone you’re okay, you haven’t been out much lately, the fans are concerned’. Fuck the fans! Everyone he knew had been worried- Pete? Rook? Slim? Dom?- He’d been missing calls from everyone in his life. It was like they all knew something was missing but they couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

They couldn’t fix it however hard they tried but the one thing that could? Well, he was sitting across the room that night, eyes trailing over Colson’s tired face and then like magnets they came together once more. Just a half hour later found him with flushed cheeks pinned against the bathroom wall, the hard tile cool to touch, only warmed by his soft breathy moans for more. He’d missed this. There was nothing in the world quite like the feeling of Marshall taking him apart, spreading his long legs and pounding into him ruthlessly as if the sight of Colson was too much for him and he was overcame by the feral need to claim, to mark, to ruin Colson so completely in all the right ways.

Colson was his, for as long as he wanted.

He knows he shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have given in but now that he has, he can’t go back to being without it. He won’t. He knows sometimes when he gets so desperate to be loved, he’ll take anything he can get from the older man but he truly thinks he can’t stop himself. Marshall was so entwined in every part of Colson's life that if he left again, Colson would come crashing down like a house of cards. Marshall’s name was on every sign, his voice in every song, wherever Colson went, there were things Marshall would love so greatly that the thought makes Colson giddy. But Colson can’t show the man these things - not now. Now it’s just rough touches, quick fucks and brief goodbyes. They’re not the same but they’re enough for Colson to keep his sanity at least. There wouldn’t be much left of it if Marshall called it off again, he was sure.

But then, here they are again, a dingy old motel where no one would think to look for the both of them, their bodies slotted together so perfectly that for a moment Colson wonders how they could ever be parted again. Thick fingers stretch him out hurriedly, no time for kindness but Marshall keeps him distracted with vicious biting kisses and every time their lips touch it’s like electricity crackling to life. It shoots through every vein, supercharging his skin until he’s so ready, so wanting for Marshall to do something. Marshall's hasty touch retreats before he’s pushing himself inside. Colson lets the feeling of himself stretching consume him like wildfire as the brunette fills him up completely and in that moment, he knows that he is Marshall’s forever. He uses his blunt fingernails to mark up pale skin, leaving dark red scratches engraved into the man's muscular back. He’s leaving his mark, a not-so gentle reminder for Marshall the next day so he won’t forget the night before. Won't forget him.

Before the breakup, Colson had been so sure of Marshall’s love, no need to let the world know the brunette was his because Marshall told them himself, told every man, woman and child about his love for Colson but now? To Marshall this was just a hookup. A fun fuckbuddy and sure they had history, but a fuckbuddy with history was still just a fuckbuddy. Just someone for Marshall to easily get lost in. A quick fuck, a little bit of entertainment, a fun easy plaything that’s always up for something. That’s all he is to Marshall, all he’ll ever be to Marshall now their love is no more.

It hurts of course, a sharp stabbing pain when Colson thinks about it too hard. Robbing him of his already shallow breath but it’s easy to forget, to push away the intrusive thoughts when there's strong hands bruising his delicate hips just right. Perhaps this is all just a bump in the road. Yeah of course it is, Colson thinks desperately as he fucks down on his former lover's cock, moans pouring from his pretty pink mouth, because surely, the blonde silently reassures himself, Marshall can feel the powerful tugging from the red strings that connect them so clearly or he wouldn’t be here with him at all, right? Would he?

He doesn’t know.

[candyflosskells]

I’m in the mood for angst, so Em ignoring Kells, and kells feeling like shit because of it

saw an old man in a sweatsuit. thinking of u

The first day, he understands that Em is busy. He's always working on his own shit and working with artists he knows, too. He has shit to do other than answer Kells' dumbass texts.

The second day, he gets it still. Em isn't attached to his phone the way Kells is. But really, he could've at least opened the text. Maybe Em had just swiped away the text, he thinks. 

fit check? 

He sends the text with a mirror selfie he'd actually taken three days ago attached. He was wearing a hoodie he'd stolen from Em, there was no way he couldn't open it and respond.

By the third day, Kells would never admit it, but he's mad anxious. He'd been right about Em being unable to resist opening the text, but had been proven wrong when even hours later, he hadn't texted anything back. Was there something wrong? Had he said something to deserve the silent treatment he was getting? Was the sweatsuit comment, though he’d sent almost the exact message five times in the last few months, too far? He shoots off a quick we good??? and he pretends he doesn't notice the way his fingers shake on the keys.

The fourth, fifth, and sixth days drag and fly by at once. For the first time since Em's cold front had started, he was busy all day every day. He didn't have time to check his phone every hour and see the lack of notifications under Em's contact. He still felt every minute pass by. He perked up every time he did get a call or text, only to come down every time it wasn't who he wanted it to be. 

With each day the urge to call or text Em again grew stronger, but he made himself wait. If Em wanted to talk to him, he'd reach out. He'd read Kells' message. The ball is in Em's court, though the more he thinks about it, Kells wonders if it's ever been his.

Seven days marks exactly a week since the last time Em texted him. His thumb hovers over the call button at least ten times throughout day. He needs to hear Em's voice, if only to hear him say that it's over. He can't just fade away. Kells won't let him. 

This time, he actually presses call. Em doesn't pick up, but Kells stays on the line anyway, just to hear Em's outgoing message.

"Call me." He says quietly, desperately, into his phone when he gets prompted to leave a voicemail.

The worst part, he thinks when he gets to day eight and Em's radio silence has taken its permanent place as the most important thing on his mind, is that he doesn't even know what he did wrong. The last time they'd actually talked, they'd been facetiming and it felt like a normal conversation. There were no awkward pauses or barely concealed annoyed sighs, just a normal conversation that ended slowly, neither of them ready to hang up. When it finally came time, Kells pressed his screen to end the call, and cut Em off right in the middle of saying something.

He texted him right away and asked if it was something important, and Em texted back quickly.

Nah.

So Kells left it at that. And that was the last text Em had sent him. Kells hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but looking back a week and a day later, he wonders if the end of their normal phone call had been normal after all.

On day nine, or ten, Kells isn't sure what to call the wee hours of the morning when he hasn't slept at all, he finally breaks. Obviously Em doesn't want to talk to him. If he can ignore him like this without even an update text. No explanations of how busy he is or anything else Kells would think was bullshit but accept as an excuse because anything is easier than accepting the truth. The truth that he's finally come around to.

Em is done with him.

They had a good run: great sex, funny banter, and even though they argued twice a day it seemed, Kells has never really felt known like he did with Em. But that's over. Em has made it quite clear that he's done with this by ghosting him this last week.

Kells pulls out his phone and opens Em's contact for the last time.

Got the message, asshole. Guess this is over.

It's 4 AM California time, so around 6 in Detroit. Em is probably still sleeping. He'll wake up to a breakup text and be relieved. Kells hates him for it. Why did he have to be the one to send the final text, and the one to get his heart broken?

If Em wanted to end them he should've done it himself. But no, he's a fucking coward. He always has been. Kells should have fucking known. He's a stupid piece of shit for not knowing, for not expecting this. Em was always going to tire of him. Shit, he gets tired of himself sometimes, he's whiny and needy and kind of a prick, but he hadn't expected Em to just go silent. He'd thought they'd made it past the point of the fadeaway. He'd assumed he deserved more for Em. Kells chuckles into the dark. Idiot move. To believe he deserved anything but to get shit on.

Whatever, what's done is fucking done. Em can stop answering his texts, but he can't un-suck his dick or un-eat his ass. At the very least, Kells will always have that. There's enough memories of the two of them to relive a new one every night until he's finally over him.

After sending the text, Kells lays back onto the headboard of his bed and feels around his bedside table in the dark for the half smoked joint and lighter he'd left there earlier. He lights up in the dark, guided only by the flame of his lighter. In the dark, nobody can see the tears he sheds silently while he smokes. Not that there's anyone with him, he's alone and lonely. As it should be.

The roach is just starting to burn his fingers when his phone lights up and begins to buzz.

It's Em.

He contemplates letting it go to voicemail. He wants to ignore Em the way Em has been ignoring him. At the last minute he picks it up, unable to resist hearing Em's voice. It's pathetic, how much he needs to hear Em on the other line.

"Kells?" Em rasps into his ear.

"Hm?" He doesn't trust himself to talk. He might say some stupid shit like 'I didn't mean it' or 'take me back' or 'I love you'.

"Kells. Fuck. I just saw your text." Which one? He wants to snear. Which text? The one he just sent breaking up with him or the ones before that he had no problem ignoring?

"Okay." He says instead. His throat works tightly over the word, threatening to squeeze out one of the things he absolutely must not say.

"You're done with this? You want us to be over?" Em sounds frantic, but Kells doesn't understand how he didn't see it coming.

"You're the one who's been ignoring me for over a week! Obviously you want this to be over." The silent tears he shed earlier come back with a force that almost turns them into full blown sobs.

"No! Kells… That's not it." 

"Then what is it?" There is no logical reason Em can give for going from texting and calling multiple times a day to radio silence for ten days.

But he wants to hear the illogical reason anyway.

"Do you remember what I said last week when we were about to end the call?" Their last call. When Em cut off in the middle of his sentence. And the last text he sent Kells. Nah

"Like right at the end? I didn’t hear you, you told me it was nothing."

"I said I love you." Those words steal the breath from his lungs. He chokes on the meaning behind them. Em loves him, he said he loves him. Regardless of what he said, though, he still hasn't talked to Kells in over a week.

"Kells... you still there?" Em says says he's been silent for a while. Kells inhales deeply, clearing his lungs of the last of the weed and what Em just laid on him.

"Yeah. I'm just tryna understand how the fuck you go from saying you love me to not thinking I'm worth a fucking text back." He hadn't known his words would come out with such bite, hard despite coming out through tears, but it's what Em deserves.

"We haven't said that yet." Em says like that explains the cold shoulder.

"I know."

"You didn't say it back. Man, you fuckin’ hung up." Kells wants to hang up again. He's told Em multiple times now.

"I didn't hear you." His voice is wrecked and desperate. If he had heard Em, he would've said it back. He's been feeling the same way for months, but hadn't wanted to ruin what they had by admitting to such deep feelings so early on.

"I know but... it fucking scared me, y'know? I said I love you, Kells. Do you know how fucking awful that is, to say you love someone and have them not say it back?"

Do you know how hard it is to be ignored by someone you love, he wants to ask? Does Em know how awful it is to fall in love so easily you never know when it's real until they leave? Because Kells knows how Em feels, but he doubts Em knows how he feels.

"You didn't answer my calls. You left my texts on fucking read." He's crying openly now, loud sobs into the night.

"I know and I'm sorry. It was a dick move, but I didn't know what to say to you. I love you, Kells, and I was convinced you didn't love me back, that you hung up on purpose to get out of saying anything back, so I tried to see how long I could last without you. I fucking tortured myself...." Em clears his throat and lowers his voice "Obviously, I wasn't just torturing myself."

"No. You weren't." 

"I'm sorry, so fucking sorry. I love you Kells. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Kells doesn't forgive him. Because even if he didn't mean to, he did hurt him. Bad. He's spent the last ten days in pain and he won't lie about it. So he tells Em the truth, though both his brain and heart beg him to tell an easier to swallow lie.

"I love you, too." He says.

[candyflosskells]

Hi, I wrote a Drabble type thing about Em splitting up with Kells for no reason and how Kells would take - it’s kinda really depressing. Sorry!

TW - self destructive behaviour, alcoholism, throwing up.

Destruction. It’s all he feels he can offer the world right now. There's no room for love here, not when his earth has turned so dramatically on its axis that he’s not sure where he is anymore. His throat's raw, shredded by the guttural wails that surround him. He can’t stop, it hurts too much. Fuck. They said it was worth it to fall in love, to have that person who will always be by your side but no. His knuckles ache, crusted blood cracking as they bend, he doesn’t remember how he did it.

What do you do when he’s gone? When he looked you in the eyes and told you that he can't do this anymore? The rooms spinning violently, a haunted merry go round of memories. The first call, the first date, the first I love you. All for nothing. He’s too intoxicated to stop the warped fairground music playing in his head. He begs to feel nothing at all because it fucking hurts and nothingness is better than this hell he’s burning in. The emotional turmoil creeps through his veins, freezing his limbs with a new type of agony.

He crumples to the hardwood floor as the pain within claws his way out of his throat and then there's sick on the new rug. The one Marshall bought before he - he can’t think about it. He won’t. Not right now. His head feels heavy, the burden of never being enough grows behind his eyes, the weight too much for his neck and he lays there - beside the mess and stares at the moonlit ceiling. Marshall’s gone. He's not coming back. Good. Colson thinks viciously, I don’t want him back. He’s lying to himself of course. He knows that if Marshall came back, if he told him he was sorry and he didn’t know what he was thinking that he’d crawl right back into his arms. He hates himself for it. How dare he believe that he could be loved, of course he can’t be. Why would he let himself trust again when everytime he does it tears him apart even worse than before?

But then, its so easy to accept being held, to welcome the feeling of loving someone - He's not ready to let go. He retches again, body curling up as he shakes. Drool dangles from his lips, tears escape his eyes. It’s too much. He looks up in the dull light and catches his red eyes in the shattered mirror. Broken - like him. Shards of glass missing, his reflection red faced and warped. A monster. Why would he be loved? He doesn’t remember punching it.

Fuck. He can’t breathe. He can’t think. Marshall, Marshall, Marshall, the chant rushes through his head as his face scrunches up in an attempt to stop the onslaught. That man crept too close to Colson’s soul and now he’s leaving and taking it with him. Please, Colson whispers into the empty room. I don’t want this anymore. The vodka burns going down, he’ll probably regret this tomorrow but right now, he couldn’t care less. Alcohol welcomes him like an old friend. The only acceptable vice as it wraps its tender arms around his lonely chest.

He doesn’t mind destroying himself to forget. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. Maybe that’s the real reason Marshall left, he thinks bitterly, sourness showing its ugly head. ‘Our careers are too complicated, we don’t see each other enough.’ What the fuck does that even mean?

His head throbs painfully, nausea welling up once more. Maybe he loves someone else. Colson can’t take it anymore. Sat in his bedroom, glass and sick surrounding him, chest screaming for air as he struggles to comprehend who he is now. Who is he without the man he loves? Marshall said he’d be there for him forever. What a liar.

Everything blurs as he looks through teary eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. He’s not quite sure who he is. He wishes so badly that this could all just go away but, real life doesn’t work like fiction. Colson’s clicking his heels but he’s not quite sure where home is anymore.

What does he do now?

His phone lights up with a message, screen flickering. Time slows, fragmented by the man he loves.

Marsh 💖: I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.

His chest aches with want. To forgive. To forget. He’s falling apart at the seams and he’s not quite sure he can do this right now. The rancid scent of his self pity lingers in his nostrils. He doesn’t want this.

Deleted.

[candyflosskells]

Kells being a brat is great, but what if one day when he is one, Em tries a different approach. He starts to give Kelly soft kisses and it makes Kells baffled, then Em is touching him so good. Rubbing his nipple, stroking his Dick and running his hand through his hair.

Kelly is so confused at this point. Why isn’t Em being rough like usual? why isn’t he insulting him and telling him he’s an annoying punk.

“God you’re beautiful, I can look at you all day sweetheart.” Em softly says and Kelly blushes, then glares.

“What the fuck are you doing? S-Shut the fuck up and just fuck me.” He starts to squirm to be brat and Em firmly pins him.

“You’re afraid of this, aren’t you?”

“A-Afraid of what?”

“Of someone treating you like this.” Em gives a kiss to those pink lips.

“Because you think you don’t deserve it.”

For once Em was able to make Kells speechless.

[candyflosskells]

ok but the concept of a rivalry is just so funny. it’s like “i’m literally obsessed with you. you’re the only motherfucker on the planet worth my undivided time and attention. i spend hours planning in detail exactly what i’m going to say and do the next time that we meet. but, like, i fucking hate you.”

[candyflosskells]

Okay so I have this concept where bottom Kells is absolutely a brat. There’s no doubt about it and he will do anything to annoy Em into pinning him down to submission. Ems gone out? Kells is sending him teasing pics. At a party? Kells is flirting with anybody just to get Em rilled up. He just wants Ems attention but he won’t admit it. There’s no way. He’s too headstrong to ask for it so Em has to slowly piece it together that when Kells is being a little shit, the quickest way to shut him up is to gag him or wrap his hands around Kells pretty little throat?? And the only time Kells head goes quiet is when he’s under Em pleading to for forgiveness or to come ?? Can you tell I’ve been thinking about this a lot 😭

[candyflosskells]

Maybe em and kells coming out through a song together?

Press releases are boring, Kells says.

Em vetoes a pap walk.

Kells sniffs when Em suggests just an Instagram story.

Leaking it to TMZ or another gossip site leaves too much room for people to refuse to believe it, Em has to tell Kells for the third time, after they've been running in circles for hours.

They can't agree. When one of them comes up with an idea, the other inevitably finds a way to tear it down. It's so frustrating Kells wants to kill, fuck, and marry Em.

Em pushes up from the dining room table where they'd been doing their brainstorming and throws up his hands.

"I don't know what the fuck to do then! I don't even understand why we're doing this whole thing in the first place." He takes a few steps away from the table then turns back sharply, realizing what he's said.

"I didn't mean-"

"So what, you just want to break up, then?" Kells tries to school his face, but he's sure he looks like he's been slapped when he interrupts Em. He doesn't want this to end, shit, why would he be preparing himself so much for the inevitable backlash they're going to get if he did? But if Em doesn't know why they're coming out, why should they do it? Why are they together at all?

"No!" Em rubs at his face roughly, "I'm saying I don't know why it's such a big fucking deal to announce in a big ass way that we're fucking. Shit, at this point we're about two bad ideas away from acting like one of those stupid ass celebrity couples and doing a song together."

Em is at his wits end, and making fun of the very idea he'd just put forward, but something in it clicks for Colson. It's kitsch, sure, cliche, of course, but totally unexpected even though it should have been their first thought.

It also fits, in a way, that they'd came onto each other's radar over a song, or two songs really, three if you count Not Alike, four if you count Kells' freestyle... anway, they beefed over a song or five and it might be fitting that they reconcile and come out over one.

"That's not actually a terrible idea."

Em's lip curls, "It is."

"No, I'm serious," Kells jumps up from the table and gets in Em's face. Now that he's thought of it, the idea won't leave or be struck down. "Me and you on a song together. We rap our love for each other, we make fucking bank, and if you ever try and leave me I'll always be attached to your name. It's perfect." Em doesn't look convinced, but he can tell the day of arguing has warn him down, so Kells goes in for his own Killshot.

He gets closer to Em, practically stepping on his feet, and then slides a quick hand into Em's joggers. He's not wearing underwear, Kells smiles then clicks his tongue, naughty boy.

"Pleaseee..." He knows it isn't fair, to coerce your boyfriend into something by touching his dick, but to be fair, they both win in the end. Kells gets to start planning their song and Em gets the blowjob of a lifetime.

They fight while making the song, too. Em thinks it's too pop, too approachable, too easily made fun of and too open to criticize. If he's going to come out in a song, he's at least going to have some of the press talking about it being a good listen regardless of the information it entails.

When it gets tweaked too far by the producer, Kells thinks all the fun is gone, which is bullshit because when they were the same age Em was making mad fun shit and now he's trying to make their song boring. This is supposed to be a song about love, about them being in love, the least they could do is make it not sound like some weird political message song that got scrapped from a concept album. If he's gonna come out in a song, he at least wants it to be something he's happy with, that he can look back at when things so south with the fans, or between him and Em and smile at.

After at least ten fights, they both get what they want. The song is tweaked back to a happy medium, serious and straightforward while also displaying their happiness with each other and their love for each other.

A coming out song by two musicians, who could've guessed it would go well?

[candyflosskells]

The first time Em sees Kells wearing a black or pink lacey thong is when they’re both in the same hotel without knowing.

Em just finished an interview and he’s so busy talking on the phone to Paul about another interview that he doesn’t notice he passes his own door.

“Why the hell does GQ wanna interview me? It’s not like I’m one of those models they put in they’re pages.” He says to Paul over the phone.

He gets to a door that he thinks is his and it’s cracked open. “Damn it.” He says.

“What’s wrong?” Paul ask.

“I left my hotel door open. Hopefully nobody snuck in and stole some shit.” He opens it ready to go in, but he freezes when he sees who’s inside.

It’s that damn kid, MGK. Seeing the kid doesn’t make Em freeze, but it’s what he has on. The blonde looks like he just got undressed and he has on a lacy thong. Em almost feels like he’s dreaming. The kid finally notices him.

“Hello, hello?” Paul says on the phone and Em is still in too much of a trance to answer.

Finally the kid speaks. “I gotta call  maintenance to fix this damn lock.” He mumbles, like it’s no big deal that Em walked in on him wearing panties.

Kelly goes over to door and closes it. Em’s cheeks are so red “Em, Em! Are you there!”

“Yeah Paul I’m here. Hey can you book me a different hotel?”

“Why?”

“Um...I can’t be around some of the guest here.”

[candyflosskells]

I’m back to being an angsty little shite ✌🏻 All I can think about is Em pushing kells away and kells is trying so hard to understand? Like Em flip flops between being soft and loving to the next moment he’s cold and mean and kells can’t wrap his head around it ?? It’s breaking kells heart because obviously he doesn’t understand what’s going on but Ems so stuck in his head that he doesn’t realise he’s hurting kells until the last moment and when it all comes to a head they end up screaming at each other until they break ?? Idk just emotional termoil with the inner conflict is my jam rn

[candyflosskells]

i Crave domesticity, please i just wanna wake up before you and make you some coffee for when you wake up, i want to drop you off at work and tell you i love you, i want us to coordinate what day of the month to take off so we could sleep in and possibly never leave bed for the rest of the day, i want us to decide what color we paint to paint each room with, it's not a boring life if it's with you

[candyflosskells]

a challenge: 7 as a first kiss 👀

7. Full on passionate make out

"This was a bad idea." Marshall throws his napkin on the table and pushes back his seat. Colson can't decide if he wants to beg him to stay or call him a bitch for being the first one to go. Marshall isn't even wrong is the thing, this probably was a bad idea, for them to meet up for dinner and put the past behind him.

But they'd been talking for a while, circling between fighting and what Colson thinks might be flirting for weeks. And the chance to meet your formal idol, even after having a very public beef with them, well, there was something in Colson's self destructive nature that wouldn't let him pass the opportunity up.

Now, Marshall is leaving the restaurant after an evening that played out exactly how he expected and in a way he never could have predicted all at once, and he can't let him go.

"Wait!" He says, jumping up to follow Marshall, but the man doesn't break his stride. Marshall had a few steps head start, but with his long legs he catches up fast and grabs at the shorter man's wrist before he can open the door to the restaurant and leave.

"What?" Marshall's eyebrows pinch together then smooth out quickly, like he's too cool to have a reaction to being chased down. It makes him want to roll his eyes.

Marshall is now looking at him expectantly, but Colson doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to apologize, this night going wrong isn't his fault. He can't say he followed Marshall just to stop him and blame him before he left. He doesn't even know what he really wants to say, just that he didn't want Marshall to leave just yet, but he definitely can't say that.

"Man, get your fuckin hand off me." Marshall pulls free from his hold and stalks out of the restaurant, leaving Colson grasping at air.

Fuck, he still doesn't know what he wants to say. But the inability to let Marshall go makes itself more and more apparent when he finds his feet moving until he's out of there too.

At first he thinks Marshall is already gone and his heart sinks, then he looks to his right and spots him, about to climb into the back of a black SUV.

Colson walks briskly toward the car. He still doesn't know what he wants to say. But he knows what he needs to do.

Marshall notices him when he gets close, "What the f-" Colson cuts him off by shoving him against the car. It isn't too hard, but it does stun him into silence, and Colson takes the anomalous moment to bend down and kiss him.

It could be the worst idea he's ever had. It could also be the best.

He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't for Marshall to respond well. He makes a surprised sound on impact, but everything after that is pure want, matching Colson's need.

He's kissing Eminem, against a car, in public, and nothing has ever felt better. He opens his mouth to Marshall when he starts to nip at his lip and even though Colson started the kiss, it belongs to him now.

He reaches up with both hands and Colson thinks he's about to pull him off, but instead he sinks his fingers into his hair and fucking yanks. It hurts and it's wild, too crazy for a first kiss. Colson has a feeling that's just how he is.

They kiss until they're both panting, unable to part but unwilling to take the time to breathe. It's just a first kiss, but it feels like his first time. He's hard in his jeans and he can feel that Marshall is too.

Finally, Marshall pulls him back by the hairs at the back of his neck.

Without a word, he pushes Colson the rest of the way off him and opens the car door back up. He steps inside and then looks at Colson with a bored expression. His heart drops to the pavement.

"Get the fuck in." He says and rolls his eyes. Colson doesn't think twice.

[candyflosskells]

What better way to practice art then with cute Emgk pieces? Like a Coffee shop Meet cute? 🥺🥺

It’s far from perfect and I could probably redraw them both like a dozen times and still find stuff I want to fix or change so for now I’m posting them and clapping my hands so I don’t 😂

I know they definitely don’t make up for me being so inactive lately but I’ll hopefully have some written works ready to post soon too! Thank you to everyone for being patient with me 🙏🙏🙏

[candyflosskells]

idk man, i just wanna write a fic that someone reads obsessively at 3am. a fic that someone loses sleep to finish because just one more chapter and tries to give multiple kudos. a fic that people will leave a comment on every chapter. i want to write a fic that people will recommend to others, that they think nails the characterization and relationship dynamic. i want to write someone’s comfort fic, someone’s favorite fic, or someone’s fic they read when they want to re-read something. i want to be that fic writer. i want to write that fic.