#I just like writing angst ok

[mintypsii]

guys i love them i promise i just have the urge to put them through the grinder sometimes

umm on the bright side here's the alternate good ending version lol!!!!!

[slavhew]

always covered in your tears and their blood.

[mychemicalbrromance]

BIRTHDAY POST FOR MITHRUN Ik it was yesterday, i made it posting it last minute on my instagram but not here bc i had 2 go to bed. Enjoy My Silly/Cringe Ass Comic Thing Boy. YAY !

[acowardinmordor]

Contractual Obligation

The plan went perfectly, is the thing. TMZ got the scoop, Tiktok had hundreds of reaction videos in the first few hours. They were trending on Twitter. Which was good. Steve would get his pay day, Eddie would get past the rumors and back to the good press, back to the path towards platinum records. According to the plan, Eddie would even have new ideas and inspiration for his next album.

It was only five months. Long enough for the gossips to pick it up, long enough to be a big deal, not long enough that anyone would expect Eddie to be too broken up about it.

Steve torched all his social media accounts a few hours after TMZ posted the story. He had to. The handful of messages and notifications he saw while deleting it all made his stomach flip. Once it calmed down a bit, he might make anonymous accounts again, if only so he could follow the kids and see the weird pictures of Robin's travels. Not with his own face though. Part of the agreement. Steve Harrington wasn't going to exist online as himself for a minimum of three years. That would keep anyone noticing that he got paid. It would also keep Steve from being torn apart by Eddie's fans.

It wasn't like he had to worry about money for a while. That was why he signed the contract with the PR firm. They needed to erase the memory of his slut era - capped off with photos of Eddie in a decadent orgy - show that Eddie Munson was capable of a committed relationship, and then get him single again. His sales were better when he was single, and being seen on celebrity dates was great for PR. They needed someone to play a part to make the change.

Steve's dad hadn't cut him off or thrown him out for being queer, or for how he got GNC when the mood struck. No, Richard Harrington was a proud liberal supporter, and didn't give a damn about any of that. But Steve flunked out of his degree in business at Richard's alma mater, and that was unforgivable.

So he was working days at an amazon warehouse, and overnight at a 24 hour diner in Chicago, because he needed money to keep his crappy studio. The PR team found him at the diner. Steve accepted the job and the contract without knowing who the hell Eddie Munson was. It was that much money. Steve really should have thought through the final phase of the contract before he signed. But it was almost a quarter million dollars for just under five months of work. "Work". Five months of dating a guy who permanently altered Steve's brain chemistry with his first smile.

Steve knew this was his fault. How he felt was his own fault. He wanted the money so he took the job, and he agreed to the terms. He went in with open eyes. Eddie didn't know Steve wasn't a genuine relationship. A real moment of serendipity that put them in the same place. Didn't know there was an end date inked and signed before they ever met. Steve agreed to this stupid fucking job because his parents cut him off and he wasn't used to having to budget for food and use coupons and hunt for deals to get phone service.

He may have flunked out in his junior year, but he was a business major. Steve read the contract and knew there was no getting around the financial penalty if he broke the terms. Seven fold repayment. How biblical of them.

He wasn't stupid. Eddie had the cash to cover the contract breach. And the inevitable court case over it. But Steve was stupid, and when he signed, he'd thought it wouldn't matter to either of them. Then Steve realized it mattered to him, but thought Eddie would be fine. He was a rockstar. Surrounded by friends. Endlessly laughing and happy. Eddie would get over Steve quick. It was just a couple months with some broke college drop out.

Then he saw Eddie's face three days ago when the rockstar found his boyfriend in bed with two models.

So yeah, Eddie had the cash, and maybe if Steve had told him from the start, he would have spent it, but now? Eddie didn't have a poker face. He walked into the scene set up by the PR team - Steve in bed with two peppy blonde models after standing Eddie up on a date - and Steve knew there was no way Eddie would cover anything. The truth could have helped early. Now that it was done? Telling Eddie the truth would only hurt him more.

All the stories were on Eddie's side. The firm made sure of that. Photos were already being 'found' by the gossip sites. Steve had been 'cheating' for weeks. Really had fucked both women that night to satisfy contractual obligation and to make sure Steve knew there was no fixing it. Steve had his fifteen minutes of fame, and the thing he'd be known for forever, was the guy who cheated on Eddie Munson.

His phone pinged with a message from one of the only two numbers saved to it. The way his chest soared and sank in the moment before his brain caught up was awful. Hope and fear, neither of which made sense.

Steve had deleted all of his socials. The PR firm had taken his old phone and disconnected the number. Now he had a brand new samsung, with one contact for the PR agent, and one for Robin. One was a threat, the other was a lifeline.

Robin's message was a calendar with her locations for the next month, and a link to AirFrance. It was a good idea. She was absolutely furious with him, and had been since he told her about the contract a month ago. She was still his best friend. Eddie was famous, but mostly an American celebrity. Steve could be a no one easier in Europe.

His phone, the one he handed over, had hundreds of contacts and thousands of messages and conversations across apps. Hundreds of photos of him and Eddie. Messages and voicemails and stupid jokes and memes.

This one had the default background, the default apps, and a single conversation in the messages. Robin was going to scream at him when she saw him, but she'd give him a hug first.

That was a better choice than sitting in the dark in his new apartment, which was too big, and too nice for crappy stuff they'd moved from his studio. He tapped the link she sent, and started looking for the first available flight.

[summershouto]

crocomom theory is so funny. ridiculous enough to piss people off but backed by the fact that nothing in canon refutes it 

and yet...also...the sadness of crocodile not knowing his own child is such a concept to me ??

Like..he could’ve given up his baby because he felt no love for it…or at least no attachment strong enough to warrant sacrificing his life plans. He agrees to carry the baby to term but gives it away before he could overthink his decision, telling dragon the child was his and his alone and therefore it was dragons choice on what to do next. For crocodile the choice was clear, the path was set, and he refused to play mother. it was only a blip in his plans until it all comes back at marineford.

or maybe he /did/ love their child but he feared for the baby’s safety...he trusted it with anyone but himself because his life was bound to bring trouble. Dragon was dangerous too but he was fighting for freedom and he claimed to have a plan so crocodile agreed blindly.

or maybe crocodile had the baby unwillingly taken from him. “for the greater good” sorta deal; doing things for the baby’s sake but not on crocodile’s terms. a rough goodbye and the assumption that he’d never know or meet his baby. perhaps he simply woke up and found his baby already gone, already taken “somewhere safer”, or lied to and told that the baby didn’t survive.

No matter the situation, he doesn’t let it take over his life. He accepts it and tells himself to move on. He never even gave the child a name; there’s nothing for him to grieve. Once Ivankov changes crocodile’s sex then it all becomes a part of the past; he could never be that baby’s mother and he pretends he never was in the first place

Until he learns the truth behind dragons name

[johnslittlespoon]

Losing my mind over the “such a good little pup, aren’t you?” smut dialogue BUT- with CurtBuck >:)

Also “one more! Please!” from Curt bc I love a good needy Curt soooo much (and I can’t get over what you said the other day about Curt being whiny and needy compared to John’s feral and growly)

post life affirming sex, they all made it back from Algeria and John’s passed tf out from their previous fucking already and Curt’s so tired and already fucked out but he still has this current of energy running under his skin that he can’t help but squirm around until Gale questions him and he just lets out the sweetest little noise before begging and whining into Gale’s neck and Gale just manhandles Curt around so he can slide into him again, shushing him softly when he whimpers from the overstim of being fucked again but he needs it so bad

Anyway I’m actually insane and I desperately needed to entertain some CurtBuck thoughts soooo bad I just love the chemistry of those two together. John may be his partner in crime, but Gale is the steadying and grounding balance he needs too

- @mangokittokatsu

prompts | omg i'm so excited, i haven't written curtbuck outside of the throuple yet but i love them and they are so underrated, i'm so keen to explore their dynamic more <3 thank you for giving me an excuse to!! ~1k words of nsfw drabble below >:) edit: turned this into a full oneshot and posted it to ao3 :-)

Curt shifts on the sex–ruffled, sweat–damp bed sheets, heart rate slowly returning to a normal pace but still antsy from the buzz rippling up and down his spine, rumbling uncomfortably just below the surface of his skin.

John’s snoring quietly behind him, one long leg tangled with Curt’s, always finding a way to stay connected even in rest. Gale’s still awake, fingers combing through his hair in a way that only serves to stoke the flames lapping at his insides rather than settle them down to warm embers the way the gentle touch usually does.

Curt turns his face further into the gap between him and Gale, pressing his forehead against his warm chest, pulling himself closer with the arm draped over Gale’s waist and crowding into his space. He’s so tired that it feels like a herculean effort just to bridge the few inches, and yet he can’t help but squirm when Gale’s other hand flattens itself against his back, his palm feeling like a branding iron against his too–hot, too–restless body.

He presses his hips forward, raising his chin enough to mouth at the base of Gale’s neck, tasting the salt of summer heat that’s gathered there, whining quietly. The rumble against his lips when Gale chuckles low in his throat has his hips twitching, fingertips pressing into Gale’s back.

“What’s wrong, doll?” The gravelly voice does nothing to aid the frenzied feeling creeping beneath his skin, and he nips at Gale in retaliation, rocking forward into a firm thigh again when the hand in his hair tightens ever so slightly.

“Need more,” Curt huffs out a breath when Gale pulls his head back so he can get a good look at him, eyes bleary as he watches the corner of Gale’s mouth twitch with amusement and something akin to hunger.

“You can barely keep your eyes open, baby,” he coos, on the verge of teasing, and a whimper slips out before Curt can stop it.

“Just one more,” he breathes out, eyelashes fluttering as he rolls his hips, pretty certain that he can get himself off on Gale’s thigh if he keeps holding his hair tight like that. “Please, Gale.”

That’s enough to get Gale to move, always weak to his begging, hand firm on his hip as he rolls him over and pulls his back flush against his chest like it’s effortless. It makes Curt’s head spin, mumbling a dazed “fuck” as Gale manhandles him how he wants him, his eyes falling on John’s sleeping form.

“What a needy thing,” Gale hums next to his ear, fingers pressing into Curt’s mouth, and Curt dutifully wets them with a moan, though he’s not sure he could’ve stopped himself from drooling had he tried. Gale pulls his fingers out and reaches between them, taking himself into his hand, slicking himself back up before dragging the head of his cock in a teasing up and down over his hole, and Curt trembles, fingers twisting in the bed sheets.

“Please,” he whines again, pushing his hips back, and Gale takes pity on him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before sliding back into where he’d filled Curt up no more than twenty minutes prior. Curt eyes snap shut, head tilting back, mouth falling open in a choked out cry, verging on the edge of too–sensitive but simultaneously feeling the restlessness be smothered.

Gale hushes him softly, moving his hand to flatten over Curt’s stomach as he pulls him close enough that he’s really only gently rocking his hips into him, a painfully slow back and forth of his cock, but so good and so full, pressing right up against where Curt’s still aching for it even after taking both of them until he had been shaking.

“Oh,” Curt sighs out, clenching around Gale’s cock and feeling his hips stutter forward into him, shuddering at the groan he receives. 

“This what you needed, baby?” Gale grazes his teeth just below his jaw, and Curt nods desperately, rocking back against him, whimpering. The hand on his stomach presses down, and hot tears jump to the corners of his eyes at the sharp–sweet pleasure the added pressure grants him, feeling each drag inside him so much more intensely.

“Gale,” he gasps, writhing against the warm body behind him, hands tightening in the sheets.

“Such a good little pup, aren’t you?” Gale murmurs against his neck, and that’s enough for Curt to reach down and take his own cock into his hand, hissing at the sensitivity but needing the friction so bad that he fights through it, feeling the pillow dampen against the side of his face as tears finally leak out.

Gale pulls back a little more to drive in harder each time, still keeping his movements slow and deep, making sure it’s not too much for him, lips soft where he mouths at the crook of his neck. He rumbles against Curt’s skin, chasing gentle nips with the press of his tongue and light enough suction to not leave lasting marks, panting quiet encouragement and praise when his thrusts start to get messy.

He feels Gale nudge at his hand, knocking it out of the way and replacing it with his own, and Curt moans at the way the heat engulfs him, rocking his hips up into Gale’s hand and back against his cock, over and over as the honey–hot feeling in his stomach builds. It doesn’t take long before all his muscles are tensing, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his strangled sob, shaking hard as he jerks between Gale’s hand and body, making a mess over his knuckles.

Curt nearly convulses when Gale pushes in deep and goes still, spilling into him once again, filling him with a heat that feels like it oozes through his entire body, melting his bones down to nothing and turning his brain to mush as he chants desperate whimpers of Gale’s name into the pillow.

Fresh tears well up from the almost painful friction when he slides out of him a minute later, and he whines in complaint, but Gale leans over him and kisses him better, slow and soft with a hand cupping his face to help him tilt it to the side.

“You’re unreal,” Gale murmurs against his lips, and Curt still flushes, even after everything else.

(+ Curt wakes up in the morning to John working him open on his fingers because they all can’t get enough of each other as is, let alone after the scare that was Algeria, and he’s sore and tired but god does he ever need to be full of him again, so they take it slow and gentle and Gale wakes up to the sight of Curt absolutely enveloped by John’s broad body, and fuck, there they all go again.) (p.s. @mangokittokatsu i'm gonna be so real, i only have to see your @ to know i'm about to be knocked back in my chair by whatever words you decide to grace my inbox with LMAOO i hope this is a solid thanks for all the brainrot you share <3)

[lok1needsahug]

i just call it “fox effect”

[cheeriochat]

"You can't remember what he looks like?... Just make something up.."

Dmc week day 5: Sad headcannon

This submission is also part of my angst/no comfort post seeing as I didn't make one lol

I guess it's more Canon then headcanon but I saw a post floating around (I may have reblogged it) about vergil saying that he would style his hair the same way dante did before he found out dante was alive and it made me cry, so I kind of amplified it to "vergil sees dante in the mirror, not himself but its been so long he can't remember the details.". I know they are identical so dante would look like him but I guess it's more in the way they present themselves rather than how they look literally.

Anyways please enjoy!! I scribbled this down quickly but I did put a bit of emotion into it, I really love the angst between these two 😭😭

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

here's a horrifying thought (mild spoilers for "Infiltration"):

something something identity has been one of the focal points of Crosshair's character and he confirmed that wiping one's identity away completely is part of the Clone X program.

Hemlock tried to destroy who Crosshair was completely after the poor guy was having an internal crisis for two whole seasons. I am not ok right now.

[bugbugboy]

"Crowleys hair gets redder the more love he gets so in season 3 it will fade" blah blah blah blah blah you're arrested what if my man just wanted to change things up new hair new me whatever it doesn't always have to be so deep what if he just saw that the colour was 66.6 and had a giggle to himself and bought it what if he just felt like it what if aziraphale said it suited him what if-

[differenteagletragedy]

Some people love and treasure their OCs and I think that's really beautiful, and I love mine too but PERSONALLY sometimes I want to treat her like a broken little ragdoll and throw her against the wall just for fun, do you know what I mean? Like I just cried over a sad song and now I want to change her life story to be more sad IS THAT OK

[fogsy-feel]

Baby Mine

The baby (because that’s what it is, he keeps reminding himself. A baby) Is this ugly wrinkly thing in his arms. This tiny, freak of nature that ripped it’s way out of his stomach and tore up the world. The doctors tell him he should hold it shirtless. That skin on skin is important. He tries not to look at where it lays on his chest and refuses to look in the mirror. It would probably be all too familiar. Deathly pale skin, black circles he knows will take weeks to sleep away. Weeks he doesn’t have. Not with the baby.

He let’s the dad name it. Him. It’s a boy, whatever it is. Derek say’s he’s probably a werewolf. Stiles doesn’t really now what that means. He knows it’s Derek’s though, however that happened. Those bright little eyes. Derek said he’d take it  look after him. For a little while. While Stiles sorts things out. 

He never quite recovered from the madness of the nogitsune, and the baby is nothing but a reminder of it. He can feel what they share with the fox. The link connecting them. Like if he looks down, that same madness will collapse between them both. A spill from him to the baby, and the baby to him. He tries to smile. Derek is just so happy. It’s everything he ever wanted. A family. A proper family. Stiles should feel proud that he gave him that. But all he wants to do is leave the thing on the side of the road, in a box and a blanket. With a little note and the words beware. It feels dangerous to hold. The weeks go by, and the idea becomes more and more tempting.

Dad says it’s just the stress getting to him. That when he goes to the shops and leaves Eli in the car it’s just and accident. He’s tired. That’s just it. Then he forgets to feed him, and Derek say’s maybe he should take a few days off/

He dreams of the baby. Of fire, and darkness. He dreams that it isn’t real. That it’s a changeling, tunnelling it’s way into their lives. It’s just dreams. But Stiles has thought that before, and he has to make sure. They tell him later that he’d lost touch with reality. Again. That he was hallucinating, and that’s why he did what he did. Eli was fine, thankfully. A real boy it turns out. They tell him it was because of the birth. Postpartum- blah blah blah. It doesn’t matter. He Isn't supposed to do this. He isn’t supposed to carry, or raise or anything. Derek doesn’t understand.

That’s okay. He’s good at this. He’ll be fine without him. Eli will definitely be fine without him. And they are. For fifteen years, they handle it.

-

Then Derek had to go up and die, and suddenly Stiles was supposed to be a parent again? “You don’t need me kid.” He reminds the boy.

“Yes I do!” Eli barged through the door with a scream. He’s in pain. His dad’s dead. Everything hurts, but this pain? This rejection from Stiles? It’s a pain he’s known since birth.  “I’ve always needed you! Especially now! Because Dad’s gone and-”

Please don’t say it.

“-you’re my Mom.” He says it with finality. Like the sad fact it is. “You.” He whispers. 

They both wish it wasn’t true, but it’s pointless. They’re connected. Through a bond they’ve tried to deny Eli’s entire life. But they are unquestionably linked. By the madness of the nogitsune. By the familial bonds of motherhood. By the grief that premeditates the air. Stiles remembers a five year old boy, telling him the exact same thing. He can no more deny Eli’s declaration now, than he could back then.

He has Derek’s eyes.

[piracytheorist]

A Life (SxF Drabble)

Sylvia smiles.

“How are you happy?” Twilight asks. “I am compromised. I was never supposed to grow feelings for them.”

She lowers her eyes. “I watched you lose yourself over the years, saw you so determined I felt there was nothing I could do. Now I see you happy and it makes me think, the life you've lived is not how I would have wished my daughter had lived, had she survived in my place. Yes, it may complicate and even endanger things. But I can't find it in myself to feel angry, sad, or disappointed. I just feel relieved.”

[candyriku]

New Chapter of Just to See Your Smile (Date edition!)

(Should I retire this Dark Souls meme? I'm unsure if anyone aside from me finds it amusing LOL)

Anyways. In today's chapter we see what happens when I spend three hours researching light pollution and stargazing in Japan and then have all of that information only matter for two throwaway sentences. Riku manages to book accommodations at a place with only one bed, but this fic is rated T so nothing really happens outside of whatever the hell the two of them are imagining. We have a bit of a heart to heart and Riku also hits Sora between the eyes with a pair of socks. The usual stuff.

First Chapter | Latest Chapter

[abcwordsurge]

other ways to say "I love you"

"is that a new shirt?"

"your eyes sparkle in the sun."

"how long have you slept this week?"

"do you want to come with me?"

"it's ok, you can go."

"I thought you would like this."

"if you're committing fraud, I won't tell."

"ooh, I wanna come with you!"

"I wish you were more careful."

"how's your sister doing?"

"where you are, I'll be."

"I made this for you."

"just wait till you hear what my coworker said!"

"I want you to be there."

"ok, I'll go."

[whosectype]

ECTYPE YA KIDDIN ME? CHAI DOESNT DESERVE THISSSS!!!!

TRUST ME I WANNA DRAW MORE FLUFF AND GIVE CHAI A COOKIE BUT ANGST MAKES A WELL ROUNDED STORY