#draft 2022

[arhvste]

“this is killing me.” kuroo mumbled as he tossed his phone to his side. “just trust me bro,” his best friend-turned roommate bokuto grinned. “this works everytime for me i swear!”

kuroo sighed before grabbing phone again to refresh his instagram story views once more. several people had already viewed the post-gym mirror selfie he’d taken in attempts to garner attention from one particular follower of his; you. “maybe it’s too cringe…” he muttered while over analysing the photo that had already gained a couple of likes within the twenty minutes it had already been up for. “nah.” bokuto reassured him and pat his friend on the shoulder. “you look sexy.” kuroo stared back at the two-toned haired boy. “… thanks bro.”

this isn’t something kuroo would typically post but times were tough and he was desperate. he’d seen you around campus but luck was not on his side when it came to scheduling and the two of you barely had class time together. yet the little class time you did share, kuroo hung onto it tightly and would let scenes of these weekly one hour classes replay in his head more often than he’d like to admit.

“i feel like a modern jay gatsby,” the ex volleyball captain huffed. “my selfie is the equivalent of the wild parties he’d throw in hopes to get daisy’s attention except i don’t want to post every night, i’ve already made myself cringe with this one post.” bokuto stared back at his friend blankly. “yeah… whatever that means.” kuroo frowned back “it’s a classic, you should know what i mean!”

how much longer was he going to have to wait? bokuto had promised him quick results with this method and so far he’d felt deceived and lied to. if talking to you when he got the chance wasn’t enough to get a conversation going outside the classroom, then social media seemed like the next best attempt to start interacting more.

what were you doing? why weren’t you viewing his story? could you even see his story? did he accidentally block you?

these questions ran through his mind as he quickly rushed to check to make sure he hadn’t for some reason blocked you from seeing his story. he half wished he did because then at least he’d know what on earth was taking you so damn long to see the photo he was increasingly starting to hate more the longer it was posted.

“this is stupid.” he stated as he faced bokuto who had zero concerns in his method in gaining someone’s attention. “it works you just have to wait, trust me.”

kuroo frowned as the little red hearts of others who weren’t you fluttered from the bottom corner of the photo. “look!” his best friend grinned as he leaned over kuroo’s shoulder and pointed to the screen of his phone. “you’re getting likes on it!”

“what’s the point if they’re not likes from the person i posted this for in the first place.” kuroo grumbled back in response. he couldn’t believe he’d been subjected to such an attempt to gain some attention from you. it was ridiculous.

it had been about forty five minutes since he’d posted it and he was slowly losing his mind. sure, the post was going to be up for twenty four hours (if he didn’t give into the voices in his head telling him to delete it) so forty five minutes was nothing, but the minutes were beginning to feel like hours and he was dying inside. why weren’t you viewing it already and what could possibly be keeping you off your phone right now?

“this is stupid.” he decided as notifications from his old team mates started to flash up on his screen. the last thing he needed was lev replying with ‘looksmaxing’ to a post that was secretly dedicated to you. “no, it’s barely been up!” bokuto whined. “you look hot so you should get some replies anyway what’s the big deal?”

pinching the bridge of his nose, kuroo huffed. “the big deal is the person i posted this for hasn’t replied!” what was the point in making sure to go to the gym during a rest day just to take this photo if he wasn’t going to at least make his existence more known to you? he’d even worked his legs enough to the point of managing to achieve the sweaty but sexy look. the muscles in his legs were dying, but his dignity sure as hell wouldn’t.

the college student opened up his phone with the intention to end the mental war inside his head once and for all by deleting the post altogether. bokuto watched his friend in defeat but his eyes flashed. “yes they did!” he yelled and pointed to the screen as your name flashed at the top of his screen.

kuroo’s heart jumped at the sight of your profile picture he’d made a daily routine of staring at and the now blue dot indicating a message from your profile in his inbox. to think he was going to delete this post just a second too, what were the chances?

psyching himself up, kuroo took a few quiet deep breathes before letting the time next to your message pass for a few minutes. he wasn’t an instagram warrior by any means, but he knew enough about general rules in order to not look desperate online.

bokuto watched over his friends shoulders as the two stared in anticipation awaiting the message kuroo had been dying for. this was it. leg day two times in a row was gruelling and he’d regret it for the next few days but it would have been worth it. the countless messages from his old teammates mocking his attempts at a thirst trap could be looked past now that you had finally given into the bait he’d so carefully laid. this is what he’d been waiting for. days of preparing and deciding how to gain your attention had finally paid off and he was about to reap the rewards he’d sown.

clicking the message with baited breath, his heart raced as bokuto’s grip of his shoulder tightened. finally.

‘the label on your shirt is sticking out, make sure to cut it’

“a wins a win.” bokuto filled the silence between the pair as kuroo stared at his phone with a blank expression. “… a wins a win…”

[birdmans]

The Cruel Prince — Holly Black

[nottsangel]

cleaning up bloody mattheo after a fight 🤤🤤 and he’s still clenching his jaw and angry 🤤🤤 but he doesn’t want to scare you 🥹🥹

“this is going to sting” you warn as you press the cloth drenched with alcohol to his face to disinfect his wounds. to your surprise, he doesn’t show any pain—no flinching or screaming—making you raise an eyebrow. you analyse his facial expressions and realise the adreline is still pumping through his body— his jaw is clenched, eyes are narrowed and his knee is restlessly bouncing up and down. you aren’t even sure why he got into a fight in the first place, but you figured it’s best to give him some time to cool off before bombarding him with questions.

“fucking idiot. i should’ve hit him harder. fuck!” mattheo hisses, eyes fixed on the wall ahead, not even blinking as his tongue exasperatedly pokes the inside of his cheek. you feel uneasy, trying to keep your mouth shut to avoid infuriating him further as you dab the cloth against his wounds— but curiosity gets the better of you, and you can’t help but wonder what happened before you entered the room. “why did you fight, mattheo? what even happened?” you blurt out, your eyes moving to his narrowed ones, gazing at him with a worried expression.

“it’s not important.” he quickly mutters, shaking his head in disapproval as the memories rush back, yet still avoiding your puzzled gaze. you let out a defeated sigh, fully knowing that pushing further isn’t the smartest move— but you just can’t let it go.

“mattheo, just tell me what—”

“he called you a slut, alright? and i just— i just couldn’t let him get away with that shit. so yeah, i punched him, just like he deserved.”

your brows furrow with both empathy and concern as you gently cup his face with your hand, thumb brushing over his flushed cheek. “oh, baby…” you sigh softly, followed by pressing a gentle kiss to his head. “i’m proud of you, you know that?” mattheo’s brows knit together as he turns to meet your eyes for the first time, confusion evident on his face as he was fully expecting you to lecture him. “what— why?” “because he looked way, way worse than you do right now.”

ੈ♡˳

[sandushengshou]

[arcteris]

i just know coerthan snowball fights are legendary

[rayllurn]

Rayllum + Kissing

Bonus:

[willgrahamscock]

[tobeseenthrough]

“We’re quite codependent.”

[elletao]

AMINA in WE ARE LADY PARTS S1

[millenianthemums]

i was thinking about how a lot of horror stories set in one location get the “why don’t they just leave” criticism, but in real life it isn’t usually that simple. even really mild reasons characters might have for not leaving or for going back to the scary place can make total sense sometimes. and i thought about OJ’s “i got mouths to feed” thing, about taking care of the horses.

but then i was like “well OJ didn’t JUST care about the horses, it was also about not wanting Jean Jacket to win. but yeah he cares a lot about the horses, it makes sense. and he’s not the type to make big heroic speeches anyway, he’s not showy like that.”

and then i realized something cool about OJ as a character. OJ not being showy, not caring about spectacle, is what sets him apart from everybody else in the movie. others see the spectacle, he sees the people and animals caught up in it. in his first scene the others want to hurry and film, but he sees the horse is stressed; if they’d listened to him and backed off, it wouldn’t have kicked. he tried to save the motorcyclist who was just yelling at him to get the camera before being eaten. he’s the kind of person who wasn’t around on the Gordy set, who knew when to stop pushing and listen before something bad happened.

He was the only one who realized not to look in Jean Jacket’s eye. He didn’t give in and look up at the spectacle in the sky. He kept his eyes low, and because of that he saw the ones on the ground who were suffering and wanted to help. He SAW the horses, he cared for them and he risked his life to save Lucky. He SAW his sister when their dad broke a promise to her for fame and money.

Emerald was the one who got the “money shot” of Jean Jacket and defeated it. i think that was important and good for her to do. Defeating this thing that had caused her so much pain, that had killed her father, her friends and maybe her brother. And in doing so she captured proof of what she and her friends went through, made sure that suffering wasn’t all for nothing. OJ helped it happen, he was behind the scenes staring down Jean Jacket while she escaped. But Emerald was in the spotlight at the end. She won.

But with all this in mind, I think it’s really beautiful that the final shot of the movie, the REAL money shot, wasn’t Jean Jacket. It wasn’t anything all that weird or spectacular. On the contrary, it was deeply familiar.

It was OJ, on a horse.

[leonard-cold]

[miya-rin]

“is this ok with you?” you already know what the answer is by the fact that semi has been rutting his hips up to meet yours for the past 5 minutes, but you need to make sure. he lets out a quiet hum but that isn’t enough for you, “eita, i need to hear you say yes.”

“yes.” he practically whines, right now he’s laid down with his shoulders leaning on the arm rest of your sofa and youre sat right over his hard cock which you have been slowly grinding on. you lean down once more to place a passionate kiss on his neck, beginning to move your hands towards the buttons on his shirt to undo them before he speaks up.

“w-wait, i have to tell you something.”

“mhm?”

“im a virgin...” your actions fully stop and you look at him with an unreadable look on your face, “im sorry i didn’t tell you, you don’t have to carry on..”

“what do you mean eita? why would i want to stop?”

“i dont really know what to do.. i wouldn’t know how to make you feel good. plus, the face you pulled kinda made me think you wanted to stop.” he sounds breathless, the way he is trying to explain himself so thoroughly just turns you on even more.

“oh no baby,” shit that name, and the fact you’ve started to grind on him again makes him throw his head back and let out a small whimper, “i was just confused that no one has wanted to touch you like i have.”

thats it, thats all it takes to send semi over the edge. the noises he lets out surprises you but not as much as when you feel the warmth that starts to radiate out of his pants right over his crotch. he turns bright red and the embarrassment is clear on his face.

“f-fuck i am so sorry, i didnt mean to i swear.” he averts his eyes from you before you place your hand on his cheek and force him to look at you, you feel his body begin to relax under you and you know that he feels comfortable. a shit eating grin appears on your face which confuses the poor boy. he just looks soo good like this, you cant let him get away this easily after pining for him for so long, this is going to be a long night.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of post breakup prompts

“You moved on so quick, didn’t you?”

“I loved you at one point, but I guess those feelings faded with time, and I couldn’t keep you by my side knowing I’d be wasting both of our’s time.” 

“The thought of you moving on from me hurts like nothing else.”

“If there’s one last thing that I want to ask of you, it’s that I’d hope you’d never forget me; that I’d occupy a portion of your mind; even if it’s just a small, small part.”

“Oh, wow. It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Are you still not over them?” “I don’t think I ever will be.”

“You took such a big piece of me with you and never bothered returning it.”

“It just— it feels like I can never love someone else the way I loved you.” 

“Don’t you dare forget that you left me. So no, I will not take you back. You can go shove it for all I care.” 

“I miss what we used to be; what we used to have.” “You didn’t miss it enough to return my calls though, did you?” 

“How about we sit down, have a cup of coffee and do some catching up? It’s been a long time.” 

“I didn’t lose you. You lost me.”

“Can we do a take two?”

“You were never my happily ever after.” 

“Do you know [name] got shit-faced because of you last night?” “They did what?” “Apparently they miss you or whatever.” 

“You broke up with me, you asshole!” “Yeah, well, I regret doing that!” 

“That’s not how this fucking works. You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it. It’s been three fucking years. I waited for three fucking years, and when I finally give up on waiting, you decide to come back and fuck things up? You don’t get to do that, you selfish prick.”

“I don’t think I ever really got over you.”

“Do you really think I’m that easy?”

“I wish I hated you. It would make things so much simpler.” 

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[miwtual]

SCREAM (2022) dir. Tyler Gillett & Matt Bettinelli-Olpin

[rogueddie]

Steve nearly winces when he steps into the room, following behind Dustin and Mike. He's already wishing he'd tried to shut Lucas up as soon as he'd tried to say that "no, really, I don't mind!"

Because of course he's this unlucky. Of course his date would skip out almost last minute, of course he'd end up with no excuse to avoid helping Dustin with his stupid D&D game and of course the person who probably hates Steve most is crouched on the biggest chair like it's a throne.

Eddie Munson eyes lock on him immediately. He stares for a while, making Dustin and Mike shift awkwardly beside him.

"Absolutely not. No way." He's grinning though. His eyes narrow slightly at Steve, like he's daring him to do something.

"You asked for a sub, we delivered."

Steve simply raises an eyebrow, pointedly shifting the sheets Dustin had helped him make up. It draws Eddies attention off his face, finally. When he looks back up, he's smiling a little more genuinely.

The guys standing at his sides are still glaring, looking almost cruelly excited when Eddie stands up, meandering his way over to them.

He gently plucks the sheet out Steves hand, eyebrows slowly raising as he reads.

Everyone is waiting, eyeing Eddie impatiently. Dustin and Mike are tense, as though waiting for Eddie to blow up. The others seem to expect the same, though Steve imagines they're more excited for it.

"Why did you come?" Eddie eventually asks, still holding onto the character sheet. "What could possibly be so important about this that King Steve would miss the championship game?"

"Dustin said this one was important," Steve shrugs. Fights to keep his calm demeaner. "Something about it being the last one or something. He's been going on about this shit forever. Seemed cruel to leave him high and dry at the last leg."

"Well…" Eddie eyes the character sheet before handing it back. Looks Steve up and down, before finally grinning. His eyes crinkle at the edges. "Welcome to Hellfire, Lady Elora."

He sticks his hand out. Steve shakes it, trying not to grin back.

Even with how often Dustin has talked to him about the game, Steve is clueless. Dustin and Mike both save him from embarressment every time though, quick to argue different options in such a pointed way that he knows the others aren't fooled by.

But Steve doesn't mind, often finds himself rolling his eyes at their antics only to find Eddie eyeing him almost fondly.

He finds that he enjoys it though. He'd make the character Elora as a joke, mostly just throwing whatever seemed to fit at random. An Elf who's a ranger, chaotic neutral, swinging around a bat with nails.

He wonders if it sounds as stupid to everyone else as it does to him.

He's often lost on the story too. But Eddie is brilliant at telling it. Even when he doesn't understand what he means, he flinches when the others yell at a reveal. Anxiety bubbling up when things get tense, slowly getting more and more invested in the game. Even he can tell that they're nearing the end, the final fight.

"You're scared, you're tired, you are injured," Eddie says. "Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or do you stand your ground and fight?"

Steve already knows the answer before Dustin speaks up; "I say we fight. To the death!"

"To the death," Mike echoes, nodding.

"To the death." Steve sniffs, doesn't bother fighting the grin.

Eddie grins back at him, the others chanting the sentiment. Steve feels warm with his attention locked on him.

Steve has the first roll. He still doesn't understand the numbers, but the others cheer so he assumes it must be good. But then it goes downhill, so many bad rolls.

Everyone is too hyped up for Steve to keep up so he focuses on Eddie. He's jeering, jumping up out of his seat, encouraging the chaos and seeming to control the energy of the room. When he laughs, he sounds more like a movie villain.

And then, one of them calls time out.

They huddle into a circle, just like they did in basketball. Steve is surprised by how easily two of the older boys pull him in.

"Guys, I hate to say this but we have got to flee."

"I concur."

"Didn't we just agree 'to the death'?" Steve frowns. He's not ready to give up yet. He can feel how close they are.

"That wasn't literal!"

A hand tightens on his shoulder. "Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players."

"You too?" Dustin sounds just as annoyed as Steve feels. "Vecna only has 15 more hit points left, don't be pussies!"

"Pussies? Really? Cause we're not delusional?"

"No, no, Dustins right," Steve butts in. Barely holds back a warning to Dustin about his language; it's not the time for babysitting. "We're too close now, we can't give up!"

"HEY!" Eddie calls, easily drawing all their attention back to him. "If I may interject, gentleman… whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Garreth the Greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today."

Something about his smirk and stupid head tilt just makes Steve more determined. If he has to continue fighting this stupid game alone, god dammit, he will.

Steve only half pays attention to Mike talking strategy. He's already made up his mind.

"What do you say, Elora?" Dustin turns to him, looking uncertain.

"We can kill him." Steve sounds more sure than he probably has any right to be. But he is. He can feel it in his bones. They can win.

"Fuck yeah we can," he grins at Steve. The others look more uncertain. Dustin turns back to Eddie, shoulders back, chin up and looking almost proud. "Let's kill this son of a bitch!"

Dustin gets first roll and it's bad.

It's all down to Steve.

He can feel how tense everyone is. Dustin and Gareth start yelling when he takes to long. But he can't roll yet, follows his gut; he has to get this right, has to roll at the right time.

It's just like swinging a bat in baseball, he tells himself. Just gotta time it right…

He rolls.

The dice seems to move in slow motion. Steve can almost hear each time it bounces off the board. The tension is so thick that it almost chokes him, for a moment he's sure that he can't breath.

20.

There's a moment where no one reacts. Then Dustin yells, grabbing Steves arm and shaking him in his excitement. Mike, a more similar height, throws his arms around his shoulders. It's a little painful to have him shouting directly in his ear but, he too, is too excited to care.

The others have started yelling too, Eddie dramatically overacting his shock too. Steve can't help but laugh.

It takes a while for everyone to calm down. An even longer moment to stop talking enough so they can start packing their things up. Steve only brought his jacket and character sheet, so he stays stood at the end of the table to wait for the kids.

Eddie keeps glancing up at him as he packs most of the pieces away.

"Harrington," Grant grins at him. "Never thought I'd be saying this but... thanks for coming."

"Oh, uh, yeah, no problem," Steve tries to smile.

"Dude, you missed the championship game to save our asses in DnD," Gareth grins, throwing his arm over his shoulder. "Who woulda thought, though. Steve Harrington, huh?"

The other two laugh. Steve finally feels a little lighter, on safer ground.

"How the mighty have fallen, huh?" Steve tries. And they laugh, Jeff slapping him on the back.

At the doorway, he lingers for a moment, whilst everyone else starts heading down the hall.

"Thanks for letting me play," Steve says, turning to Eddie. "I know I'm not... uh..."

"Don't strain yourself," Eddie waves him off. "It's fine. The kids have raved about you enough for me to figure out that you're a good dude."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You should join their next campaign."

"I don't know. You're graduating, right?"

"Aww, you like me that much, big boy?" He puts a hand to his chest, batting his eyelashes.

But Steve remembers the rumors that went around, remembers exactly how true they were proven to be. And, well...

"What would you say if I am?" He fires back.

Eddie, true to his reputation, is never one to back down from a fight; "then I'd tell you to ask me out like you mean it."

"Alright. If you're free tomorrow, 8pm, would you wanna go on a date? With me?"

"You picking me up in your fancy car?"

"If you want."

"Yeah, I'm free."

"So... that's a yes?"

"Yes, that's a yes."

Steve can't help but fistpump, but it makes Eddie giggle, so he counts it as a win.

[searchsystem]

Nayelin Delgadill / Endless Draft / In memory of Nagakin Capsule Tower / Drawing / 2022