#gonna have this in my head for a whole week now

[rustedhearts]

somebody told me (fratboy!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve has made it very clear that he doesn’t want you. but he doesn’t want anyone else to have you either.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

i want your things in my room (part one) the library record store

tags: angst, mean!steve, so much tension, yeah the football player is tim riggins in my mind and so what?! i literally wrote this months ago, enjoy <3

"heaven ain't close in a place like this"

— somebody told me, the killers

may 1st, 2009

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

It came hissed in the doorway between the second floor fraternity steps and the sticky wood paneled wall. Steve hovered above you, breath sour with beer and a new bottle dripping condensation through the hand dangling at his side. His eyes were slanted and directed down at your eyes watching him in surprise.

30 seconds ago, he cornered you against the wall after your swift trip to the bathroom. You caught eyes with him across the kitchen nearly an hour ago, and it took all this time of carefully scanning your movements when you weren’t looking for Steve to get you away from the junior you came with.

“What are you talking about?” you laughed. “It’s a party.”

“I didn’t invite you.”

You swallowed, trying not to let your good-natured grin drop. You were well aware that Steve didn’t invite you.

After he practically ran from your bedroom two weeks ago, things went radio silent between you and Steve. You texted, he didn’t answer. You called once, thought about leaving a voicemail, and spent a whole weekend crying when you realized: he didn’t want you. Someone who wants you doesn’t flee your room the way he did that night.

You were perfectly content wallowing in your idiocy for ever thinking Steve Harrington could have a special spot for you in his tiny, shriveled heart—until said junior you were attending tonight’s party with saw you at the dining hall.

You were studying late into the evening, sitting all alone at a table near the fireplace with your books sprawled out and your picked-at dinner in scraps. He came staggering in with a band of other men, all sweaty and half-dressed from practice. He was a linebacker on the football team, and he looked damn good easing into the chair across from you and making it squeak.

His name was Tim and he had a handsome smile, and a slow way of talking in this Texan drawl that had you blushing. For the ten minutes he sat and talked to you and asked you what you were so focused on, you forgot all about Steve.

You texted for a week, grabbed a few lunches and coffees together, and now here you were. At a frat party, invited not by Steve—but Tim.

“I know that,” you told Steve, pulling your arms up to fold them over your chest. Steve’s eyes flashed down to your breasts cupped under a black lace bra peeking through a red shirt.

“I came with Tim.”

Steve screwed up his nose, pulling back a little. “Tim? Tim who?”

Huffing, you pushed yourself off the wall and pressed Steve back by the shoulder. “Tim, Steve. Now, excuse me, but I’m gonna go find him—“

“No, hey.”

Steve snatched you by the elbow, causing you to fumble on the carpeting and narrowly miss someone heading up the steps. You gasped, stumbling into Steve still against the wall.

“Steve, what the hell?”

“‘m not done talkin’ to you.”

You glared at him, wrenching your arm away with force. “I don’t care.”

You rushed down the steps before he could speak again, head suddenly swollen with confusion, heart pounding hard in your chest. He hadn’t touched you in weeks. Hadn’t spoken to you, looked at you, so much as acknowledged you since the last time he was inside you.

All it took to get his attention was to finally attempt to move on? It was bullshit. It made your cheeks flame and your mouth line with sweetness that made your stomach coil. It wasn’t fair.

“Hey.” That soft Texan drawl called to you.

You raised your head from where you were glaring at the floor, softening when they found Tim’s green gaze. He grinned at you, still holding your red plastic cup from earlier. You retrieved it from him and allowed yourself to tuck into his side under the weight of his arm.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you told him. “Long bathroom line.”

Steve stepped into the fluorescents of the kitchen, weaving his way through bodies with wide, squared shoulders. He tossed a quick glance your way and shook his head as he made his way through the room. And what pissed you off most was the fact that he thought he had the right. The right to be upset, the right to think anything of you.

“Baby, you look so pretty in that lil’ top,” Tim said, tipping his chin down to you with a lopsided grin. He was a few beers in and loopy.

You grinned. “Do I?”

“Mhm. Real pretty—come gimme a kiss.”

You perked up on your toes to meet his mouth. His lips were always warm and soft and soaked in beer. Lord, college boys drank a lot. If you closed your eyes and forgot where you were, sometimes he even tasted like Steve.

But Tim always called you baby, and Tim always called you back. He walked you to class with your books in his arms and a hand on your waist, opened the door for you, and helped you into his truck when he took you for coffee.

And Steve? Steve acted like you didn’t exist if his dick wasn’t inside you.

Your tongue was just slipping past Tim’s teeth when you were torn apart by force. Tim stumbled aside, knocking you as he went and catching you quickly with a hand on your waist. Both your heads turned sharply toward the assailant.

Steve stood near the island where Tim had previously been, holding a bottle of beer and a look of nonchalance. His eyes glided from Tim’s look of surprise to your absolute glare.

“Sorry about that,” Steve said coolly. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Tim resumed his spot beside you, and your body felt like it was vibrating against his. Every part of you was burning—and you couldn’t tell from what. Anger? Humiliation? Arousal? Maybe all three. You swallowed with difficulty and let Tim pull you in again. But your eyes never left Steve’s.

And his never widened from their slits. The ball of muscle near his jaw bone knotted when he clenched his teeth and it didn’t move.

“You okay, baby?” Tim’s attention was on you, and you looked away from Steve to smile at your date.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

The footballer had an easier lightness to him. Breezy, taking things with a grain of salt. He didn’t bother fighting Steve for his ‘mistake.’ He didn’t scold him for knocking you. He only smiled at you with a pair of pretty dimples and kissed the top of your head, arm bending around your shoulders.

“Wanna get outta here?”

Because he’d be going home with you. And it only took Tim a few moments to deduce that it was that fact alone that would drive Steve crazy. Even if you couldn’t.

You nodded, hand rubbing over his chest. You spared one more glance toward Steve, who had stepped away toward the other side of the kitchen with slow, slithering steps. He took a swig of his beer and clenched his teeth on the swallow.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Tim held your hand on the way out, guiding you down the front steps and toward the street. Your arms swung over the pavement, and you almost felt compelled to check if Steve was watching. What the hell was wrong with you?

“So what was that?”

You peered up from the pavement to Tim’s green eyes. “What?”

He cocked his head back at the brightly-lit house dimming behind you. The music faded the further you went. He was still wearing that dimpled grin.

“Back there, with that guy.”

You inhaled, looking back toward your feet. It only took a few moments to decide that you didn’t want to lie.

“We…used to hookup. But it’s completely over, I swear.” You skirted to a stop, gathering Tim’s other hand and meeting his eye again. “He’s just being a dick about it.”

He snorted. “I sort of got that when he came from across the room to ram into me.”

A giggle burst from your mouth, but it drooped into a frown. “I’m sorry.”

Tim frowned, brows creasing. “For what? You don’t got nothin’ t’ be sorry for, pretty girl.”

The warmth pulsing in your chest you could certainly make sense of now. “Okay.”

He grinned again, dropping one of your hands to squeeze your chin affectionately. “Okay. Come on.”

You walked the rest of the way to your apartment with his heavy arm over your shoulders again. And Steve watched from the front seat of his car, knowing exactly where he was going as he peeled away from the curb.

✶ ✶

“Alright, goodnight, little lady.”

“Goodnight, Tim.”

Your voices were punctuated by the slam of a door. Quick footsteps followed, a rhythmic succession ascending the staircase. Over the creaky board on the other side of the door, then—

“What the fuck?”

It burst open to a streak of lamplight in your bedroom and one Steve Harrington shadowing it at the foot of your bed. He had your university football teddy bear in his hands. It was a gift from Tim and it had his number on the bear’s soft yellow t-shirt.

Steve leapt to his feet. “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t seem to close your mouth. It hung open as you watched Steve raise his brows and jerk his chin expectantly. He tossed his arms out on either side.

“Huh?”

You came to your senses with a hard blink. “What am I doing? What the hell are you doing? How did you get in here?”

“Same way I always get in,” he quipped.

Heat touched your cheeks as you stepped into the room and gently clamped the door shut. You snatched the teddy bear from his hand and placed it back on your desk silently. Your purse fell to the floor where you were standing.

“You didn’t answer me. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Is this about the party or Tim?” You kicked your shoes off one by one, keeping your back to Steve and his stupidly pretty face.

You had such a soft spot for pretty boys, it seemed.

“You know what? Both.”

“Okay,” you sighed, pulling the first layer of your outfit off. Steve’s eyes scanned the lace of your tank top as red fabric made its way toward the hamper. “Tim and I are seeing each other. Tim wanted to go to the party, which happened to be at your frat—alas, there we were.”

The mattress springs yipped when you bounced on the edge to pull a clean pair of socks on. You wanted to strip your jeans, too, but you didn’t want to give Steve any ideas. He was already standing there with his arms crossed and his biceps and chest all puffed and sculpted. He already had that handsome pink tinge to his cheeks: his beer blush.

“Well, it’s weird,” Steve stated.

You rolled your eyes, exhaling a snicker. “Okay, Steve. Can you leave now? I’m tired.”

Steve tapped his finger on his arm, watching you shift on the bed and feign exhaustion. He chewed his cheek for a minute before reaching for his hair.

“Well…you know I missed you, right, sweetheart?”

He dropped his hands and softened his eyes into that soft, puppy-dog pout. Your scoff was sharp and sliced through the room. Steve stepped toward the bed.

“Right.”

“No, really,” he urged, sinking into the mattress before you. “You know I was just made president, and I just got super busy, that’s all. I meant to call you.”

You tipped your head at him and stared directly into those faux-pleading hazels. "How come everything you say to me sounds like a line, Steve?"

Steve sat unblinking for a moment. Then his cheeks colored a rosy shade, and he covered it with a cruel scoff and another sweep of his hair.

"What? Come on, you-you know I like you."

You pushed off the bed, head shaking. That warmth was slowly but surely returning to your body in violent form. You pulled your hair off your neck and padded toward the window to open it. Your room already smelled too much like Steve.

"You like playing with me," you corrected, keeping your back to him even as the mattress shrieked with his freed weight.

"You know, you're such a bitch-"

You spun around, shoving him by the chest. Steve stumbled a step back, but the smirk on his face made you regret even touching him at all.

"Get out."

"Hell no," he bit, lunging back into place. He grabbed at your arm again. "You think Tim wants you either? You think he doesn't just like playing with you? You always gave it up so easy."

Tears bubbled in the edges of your eyes. A tingling burn settled in the bridge of your nose. You shoved at him again and angled your head away from him and his sneering scowl and beer breath.

"Fuck you, Steve."

“You’re trying to replace me? Hmm?” Steve cocked his head to meet your eye, and you wished you could will away the hot tear trickling down your cheek. “That’s fine, sweetheart. I’ve got ten of you in my pocket.”

He shoved your arm away with a scowl, and you sniffled as he headed toward the door. All the hot-headed, enraged words pulsing on your tongue shriveled and died—and they were replaced with a hurt and heartbreak that was so familiar it was almost comfortable.

Yet as he opened your bedroom door, you rubbed your arm where he had held you and sniffled.

“Stay away from me, Steve.”

Door in hand, Steve turned and scoffed at you. “No problem.”

✶ ✶

You spent the next hour crying between makeup wipes and playing your radio on low. Pulled a faded grey t-shirt from your pajama drawer and tried not to look at Steve’s face rumpled at the bottom on a white t-shirt. Why hadn’t you thrown it away? He was so hard to let go.

With the football bear cradled to your chest, you wiggled under the covers and reached for the lamp. Your phone buzzed consecutively on the nightstand, causing pause. The plastic clicked on its hinges as it flipped open, and the sheets rustled when you shot up in bed.

u up?

tim is a fckn l0ser

answer

i’m sorry

The first time he called, you didn’t answer. You watched the small square light up with his name, felt the plastic shake in your palm with the force of its ring.

answer

Another call. You pressed the green button, but waited.

“Hello? Hey-hello?” His faded voice brought you from your daze.

You pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Jesus, do you not read your texts?”

“Wh-what…why are you calling me?” Disbelief colored every syllable from your mouth.

Steve huffed. “I just…how much do you really know about this Tim guy?”

You looked at the bear sitting on your lap against the sheets. “About as much as I know about you, Steve.”

The line buzzed with quiet for a while. You played with the hem of the teddy bear’s shirt and gnawed on your lip. An ache balled in your chest when the thought of him hanging up occurred to you.

“Fair,” he said quietly.

Sighing, you shimmied under the covers again and reclined back against the headboard.

“Why are you calling me, Steve?” This time it was softer. You couldn’t give in to him anymore, but you had to hear him out. He never called you like this.

He never acted like he cared until now.

“Just…don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

You scoffed, pressing your palm against your head. Despite the way your heart pulsed with excitement, and the way your nerves locked up at the thought—you knew Steve didn’t mean any of it. He was just jealous. He wanted you as his personal plaything and he didn’t like to share.

You couldn’t swallow it anymore. You couldn’t keep biting your tongue to stay the perfect toy in hopes he might see you as more.

You had to end it.

“You already took care of that, Steve.”

You reveled in the buzzing silence of the other line for a beat.

“Goodnight,” you told him.

And you hung up the phone.

[00kittenz]

── piece of cake ! ( lhs ) 🍰

๑ You and Heeseung attempt to bake together as a fun, cutesy bonding moment— but things don’t end up going quite exactly as planned…

pair: bf!heeseung ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: fluff, smut, my very weird and bad sense of humor lol, #epic fails, hee is sooo babygirl in this, praise, lots of kissing, mwah mwah, soft dom!heeseung, fingering, piv, breeding kink, grrrrreer lovey dovey relationship :3 | words: 2.0k

this was supposed to be short n sweet but it got a bit longer than intended oop- i think this might be the cutest thing i wrote yet ahhh

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“ten..nine..eight..seven.. six,” you slowly count the minutes passing by from pure boredom, eyes squinting at the pink clock that sat on the milky colored walls of your kitchen.

you tapped your acrylics on the marble of your countertop, double checking all the ingredients you had set out for tonight’s adventure. you and your boyfriend, heeseung, decided to have a baking date tonight. it marked your one year anniversary yesterday, but even so, heeseung still wanted to celebrate for the entirety of the week. so today is essentially part two of your anniversary !

“comingg !” you sang, hearing sudden knocks from the front door, knowing that it was none other than your boyfriend. he’s the only one who knocks on your door like he’s making a beat. soon as you open the door you’re met with the most handsome face and the brightest smile, and although you were delighted to see him you couldn’t help but state the obvious.

“why’d you show up so late ??”

“blame jake and jungwon for that, just as i was about to leave they kept yapping my ears off about any and everything !” he attempts to defend himself, wiping the iffy look on your face with a sweet kiss.

“hmm.. really, you’re blaming other people now ? sounds more like an excuse to me,” you playfully combat, giggling against his broad chest once he caged you in his arms.

“psshhh, what excuse— you know how they are !”

“i’m just teasing babe,” you left his hold with a lingering smile, “i’ll forgive you this one time, but only because i missed you.” with that you walked over to the counter of all your supplies, pulling him along with you.

“well damn, you weren’t playing around. you’re super prepared baby.” heeseung rubbed the sides of your hips as he came up behind you, eyes glazing over the ingredients you had laid out all prettily, it seems you doubled up on everything in case you made any mistakes.

“mhm, i might’ve overdid it just a little bit.. but you can never have more than one thing !” you try to justify your overconsumption, you tend to go overboard when it comes to certain things.

while you were out food shopping, there were far too many different varieties of decorations, you can never decide on anything so you just went and bought a whole basket full. but you’re slightly regretting that choice now considering all the money you just spent…

“c’monnn, let’s just hurry !” you stop rambling and get back to business, feeling his kisses lace the crown of your head once you turn to face him. “i wanna make ittt.”

“make what ? our kids ?” “i’m ready whe—” he pauses once his eyes found yours, blankly looking at him. he knew that look was everything but blank. “okok sorry, let’s start..” he awkwardly brushes the conversation to the side, picking up a box of cake mix.

“i’m assuming we’re gonna make the cake on this box ?”

“yup ! a strawberry, triple layer cake.” you say excitedly, peeking at the box he was holding.

“i can’t wait anymore, i’m hungry, let’s gooo !” you express like a hyperactive child, unable to contain your excitement for the delicious dessert.

it was a great idea to actually wear aprons for this event. you initially had the idea set and stone because you wanted to look like a professional baker like on the tv shows. you had to fully commit to the bit, go big or go home ! but, you definitely needed it for more than just the look of it. you two made a mess.

“look, there’s frosting in your hair !” you laughed hysterically at your lover. god knows how the icing even got in his hair in the first place.. “you aren’t even the one frosting the cake, how the hell did it get there ?!” you hinted at the fact that the needy boy was holding you almost the entire time as you started frosting the first layer of the cake.

“i dunno, it’s your fault then, you’re the one doing it !” he spoke against your neck. shivering goosebumps danced across your skin at the feel.

“maybe if you weren’t breathing on my neck 24/7 then you would be the one icing !” you sassily retorted at his laziness, handing him a crate of strawberries. “here, cut these into slices.”

you could hear him groaning at the task you just gave him. “but baby, i wanna hold you still.. can we wait a little ?”

“hee, no, you’ve been holding me since you got here !” your hands lazed on your hips. “get to work, chop, chop !”

“ugh, okay..” he pouts, looking over at you with those precious bambi eyes that was almost about to make you fold in a second. he retrieved a small fruit from it’s catering before taking a knife to it's redness. “babbeeeeee...” he whined.

“no, heeseung.”

“fine, then can you at least hold me this time ?” he pleaded with you, his smile coming into spotlight once he felt your arms wrap around his fit shape. “thank you.” he mumbled continuing on his mission with the strawberries.

๑ ๑ ๑

“sooo, what do i do now ?” he asks, caressing your arms looking back at your watching figure.

“you place them NEATLY on the frosting.” you answered him, placing a kiss on his clothed back, praising him of his quick hands. “you’re doing a good job so far baby.”

“okie dokie.” a small smile hid the big grin that heeseung tried to contain at your praising words.

“good ! now take the frosting—” you left his figure, reaching for the tube of frosting and placing it in his hand. “and gently spread it across the strawberries.”

“go on, do it.” your brows knit together in confusion. why was he just standing there not doing anything ??

“uhh, are you gonna hold me ?” he cocks his head to side, giving you yet another look that you just can’t refuse.

“okay ! damn, so needy.” you shook your head, going back to the warmth of your insatiable boyfriend.

it’s been a while since your little strawberry arranging, now you’re just finishing off the cake with some decorations. considering how long it took you both, the cake ended up looking absolutely phenomenal, you could just picture the strawberries layered with the frosting in your head. you couldn’t wait to get it inside your tummy.

“okay, now add the strawberry on top !” you proudly announce after applying your colorful sprinkles around the rim on the cake.

heeseung, just as happy as you are bounces in place before placing the fruit gently on the glob of icing that sat in the middle of the delicious treat.

“FINALLY,” he shouted, he was ready to just eat it whole. “it’s so pretty !” the two of you share a high five. taking long looks at the cake in awe. mouths drooling for a bite but eyes savoring the look of the treat before the two of you ruin it. you made sure to snap a couple pictures of it to post on your story later.

“hmm.. should we eat it now or wait a bit ?” you ask with hesitance, although you were very much looking forward to devouring it, you still couldn’t bring yourself to actually cut it just yet.

“it looks really tasty, but.. i think i wanna eat something else.” he shamelessly admits, hoping that you’d catch his drift. and, you most certainly did…

๑ ๑ ๑

“hmph,—” your grasp on his wrist tightened at the pressure he was building between your legs. the way his fingers pumped through your folds, how his thumb gave attention to your pulsing clit. your mouth went permanently agape, losing yourself in the blissful feeling of his touch. “hee— yes ! fuck..”

heeseung watched as your teeth captured your bottom lip, the blood rushing around the bruised flesh.

he then captured each of your thighs, on his shoulder, both masses prettily caked on eachother squeezing your cunt between them; his fingers still stretching you out.

“you’re so fucking perfect baby,” he pampered your plushy thighs, kissing them all giddy-like, a mischievous grin on his face. “but you already know that, right ?”

you rapidly nodded, you didn’t wanna speak nor protest, it was like you didn’t know how to breath anymore, you felt so high and small under him, he was like a drug. and it left you with nothing but chilling goosebumps.

“go on, come,” “come so i can give you what you really want.” his pace quickened leaving you entirely unstable, you were shaking, whimpering, your dewy cunt was throbbing around him. “you want it don’t you?”

“yes..—” your voice was hoarse and forced, you’ve become a groaning, dripping mess for him and he adored every bit of it.

heeseung softly bit around your skin, leaving small reddish and purple love bites around your legs.

“oh! baby, i’m—” your orgasm cut you off, heeseung loved whenever you climaxed because of him. how lazy and defeated you look after, the way you gasp and cling for air. “coming..”

“dont worry, i know.” he joked, grabbing your waist, pulling you back up onto your ass. “well kitchen sex is now off the bucket list..” he licked the sides of his fingers, eyeing you directly.

you were mesmerized by him, he had you right where he wanted you. “but i’m not done yet, fortunately enough for you. baby girl.”

๑ ๑ ๑

“babe, you’re fucking swallowing me.” heeseung groaned, pulling at the waistband of your skirt in a tight manner. “pussy still hungry for me ?”

“please..” you whined at the friction of his manhood colliding with yours. like a match made in heaven. “i want it..”

he wasted no time in fastening himself further inside you, he wanted you no more than you wanted him. he needed you the most right now. not only has he been craving to be with you all day, but this whole week meant everything to him. heeseung feels more than lucky to have you, he wants to cherish this anniversary as if it’s a once in lifetime experience.

his large hand pressed on your lower back with every stroke he landed in you. you felt every curve and inch of his length, how it made you see stars the minute his tip kissed your G. “fuck..” he landed a sharp slap onto your ass.

you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. there was a tense burning sensation sprawling throughout your entire body. it only made you urge for more, like nothing was enough, even though you were in utter utopia. you were a mewling, shrieking mess.

“heeseung ! ugh, please ruin me..hmm please..” your arm reached back grasping at his thighs.

“you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know ?” he airly chuckled, throwing he head back. the feel of your slick creating sticky vines across his skin whenever he’d pull out. the sound of it, the look of it. all of it turning him on even more.

your back arched at the thought of maxing out around his thick shaft. the praise you’ll get since you’ve done so well for him.

“i love you..” you mumbled bittersweet nothings one after another.

“shit, loosen the fuck up.” his hands entangled your sweaty hair, gripping it in a careful but semi aggressive manner. “oh fuck- i’m gonna come.” he began to thrust into your messy cunt relentlessly, pounding you into oblivion.

“hee— mm’nside please.. !” you slurred, drool heaping out the corner of your mouth.

“inside ? huh? you want my babies, princess?” “you do, don't you? want me to fill your fucking pussy with my seed.” heeseung chuckled at your pleading and begging for his cum. he was tired and worn out as hell, but soo turned on by you, by the thought of you bearing his children.

“ngh~ yes, yes hee!”

“happy anniversary, baby.” his length pumped into you filling you up, not an empty fucking crevice in your soppy cunt. like the frosting to a cake.

“mm, thank you .. baby.. ”

forget all that romeo and juliet cliché love shit, you two were better than that, at least you thought so. you two were...

y/n and heeseung ??

that had a ring to it.. most definitely.

ヾ(・ᆺ・✿)ﾉﾞ

guys why do i feel like my smut has been worse HELP- idk, could just be me overthinking again butttt i hope some of you liked it hehehe ;D <3

[luveline]

do you think you could do something with zombie au where reader is on her period? thank you!!

thank you for your request! fem, 1k

You’ve gotten your period three times since the apocalypse began. The first time, you and Steve were just beginning to get along, and he’d proved why you trust him as you do, treating the whole thing with kindness. More recently, he’s your unofficial boyfriend. Like, kissing you and holding you, but foregoing the conversation that would make you an official couple. 

Either he doesn’t want to be official (which is fine, it’s not like he’s going anywhere), or you’re official without words. You’ve assumed the latter because the former makes you nauseous. 

Not that you need much help in that department. Your stomach churns like a tide, bouts of sickness and pain that hit you rampantly as you follow Steve downstairs. 

“Can I take my shoes off?” you ask. 

“Why are you asking me? It’s not my house.” Steve descends the last step and holds his hand behind him for you. Seemingly to help you down a step you don’t need help with. 

You’re asking because taking your shoes off means getting comfy for the night, and he doesn’t want to do that at every house you break into.

You don’t explain yourself. You follow Steve into the living room, hoping he’s going to take your hand again. He nudges you with his hip into a mildly dusty couch. 

You sit. “What, are we gonna watch TV?” you joke. 

“You look sickly.” 

That’s not nice. “I do?” you ask, all teasing gone from your tone. You often wish you were much prettier, and occasionally beg fate to drop a bottle of medical grade body wash into your lap, if just to make Steve see you that way. But Steve’s kissed you with a greasy nose and blood on your chin. You were hoping appearances didn’t matter. 

“You look awful,” he says, his eyebrows stitching together as he heads into the kitchen. “Stay sat down!” 

“Awful?” you ask. 

He doubles back, face peeking around the doorway. “Not like that,” he says hurriedly. “Just, sick. I’m gonna cook you something.” 

“I don’t need to be sat down, I’m fine.” 

He disappears again. “That why you’re glaring at me?” he calls, his voice echoing against tile. 

You don’t have the energy for whatever it is that’s happening. You kick your legs out on the couch and begin kneading the swollen mess that is your stomach, debating on telling him why you’re grumpy. It’s not like he cares. He never finds it gross, but you don’t want him to pity you either. It’s just a period. 

(It really sucks.) 

“Alright, the hot plate is on,” he calls. “What do you want, huh? We got the split pea soup, or the chicken casserole?” He laughs. “The casserole, duh. Ten minutes and it’s yours.” 

Your breath rushes out through your nose. Stomach hurts, head hurts, he’s making you dinner and laughing where you can’t see him. You force yourself to get up, shuffling to the kitchen with a pout already in place. 

“Ten minutes is not right,” you say, announcing your movement so he doesn’t stab you. 

“Is too right. How come you never listen?” 

“Steve, please don’t be mean to me, I’m on my period.” You wince as a pang climbs your back. 

“Oh, you are?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Well… I’m glad, sort of. Better that then the flu, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

A couple of weeks ago, he would’ve told you to go back to the couch, and he would’ve brought your food in to you, wrapping a blanket over your legs and leaving you to it. But this is now. Your unwilling protector has gone remarkably soft on you. 

“Is it like last time?” he asks, holding out his arm. 

You drift toward him, pretending it isn’t to be hugged. “It hurts, if that’s what you mean.” 

“It hurts,” he repeats in a murmur as his arm finally curls around your waist. He pulls you into his side.

“You’re pitying me.” 

“You like it,” he jokes, his tone still held in that soft murmuring. 

You close your eyes, driving your nose into his chest. The hot plate gurgles weakly on the stove, using the last of a canister of camping gas, a few days from the end of its life. Your eyelids feel heavy closed, achy not with tears but fatigue, and your head aches with a migraine you know from experience won’t be defeated using tylenol. But Steve hugs you with one arm and leans against you as you press into him. Stuck together. He doesn’t move for ages. 

“I’m glad I don’t get my period,” he says. 

“You act like you do.” 

“Were you not gonna tell me? I guess you don’t have to, but if you’re in pain, I’d like to know.” 

“Don’t need you to feel any more sorry for me.” 

“I don’t. Just like rubbing your back.” 

Your heart skips a beat. That’s as close to a confession of feelings you’ve ever gotten from him. Well, verbally. His sporadic kissing says a lot. 

“Thanks for telling me,” he says. You have to strain your ears to hear him. “I don’t think there’s much iron in chicken casserole. I wish we… How much iron is there in squirrel?” 

“I don’t wanna eat squirrel.” Again. 

“It’s good for you.” 

Doubtful. You turn completely into his touch and hug him. “Please don’t make me eat squirrel.” 

You sound a teeny tiny bit pitiful, and you earn yourself an even better hug than the first. “I won’t, I won’t, I was just kidding,” he promises, “I just figure you need it. Maybe if we look through the medicine cabinet they’ll have some multivitamins or something.” His hand grabs at your side. It’s not a careful touch, though he’s far from spiteful. “You need painkillers, right? I could crush a Vicodin into your casserole.” 

“Yes, please.” 

Steve’s nose presses into the side of your face. You feel close to him in a way that chokes you up, but you don’t need to talk any more. 

“Half a Vicodin,” he deliberates, “and I’ll rub your back.”

[razorblade180]

Capturing the Spark

Weiss:*peeks into music room* Summer, sweetie? I can’t help notice you’re playing the same note for like…ten minutes.

Summer: *plucking string* I’ve reach creative bankruptcy.

Weiss:You’re sixteen. There’s something in there.

Summer:Nothing good.

She points at a decently sized pile of paper on the floor. Weiss takes a look at one and realizes it’s a whole song.

Weiss:Are these originals!? Why are they on the floor!?

Summer:I don’t like how they came out. Weeks and months of revising but they feel mediocre.

Weiss:Says you. A single opinion from a creator is damning in any art form. I could’ve listened.

Summer:You would’ve been too nice and supportive.

Weiss:Summer, I told your father he looked fat in the first tux he chose for our wedding. I will never willingly let you embarrass yourself in front of people.

Summer:…There’s been talk on the radio about my recent songs and concerts. People are saying I’m losing my spark, and they aren’t wrong if I’m being honest. Things feel…different.

Weiss:Could it be because you’re getting healthy?

Summer:Pfft, now you’re making me sound ridiculous. Yes, that’s exactly it. Being on stage feels weird now that I’m not fighting for my life. Is that wrong?

Weiss:Little bit, but I get it. Your life was on the line. Adrenaline was at an all time high.

Summer:Exactly! My body was cold and hot. I had to focus on staying myself while thousands cheered my name and had zero clue I was basically on a battlefield! Now I’m just performing.

Weiss:Haha, and that’s a bad thing? It’s gonna be an adjustment but you still have that spark. You don’t need your life on the line to bring it out. You also need to treat these songs better.

Summer:Mom, they’re garbage. My fans don’t come for me for darker stuff anyways.

Weiss:They are fruits of labor. Sure not all of them will be perfect, but not every song you make will be a hit and don’t have to be. Treat these like your puppy. Don’t throw them away because they’re a little all over the place.

Summer:Where is he right now?

Weiss:Bothering Jaune. Anyways, fuck your haters.

Summer:Wow!

Weiss:I mean it! You are the singer! You can’t make people like your music but you change the audience that fills your seats. They’re called fans because they help make you burn bright.

Summer:….

Weiss:The way I see it, you can change up your style and genre to better capture and represent the raw feelings that give you the spark, or bask in the irony of a crowd that loves you, but can’t fathom the real weight of your performance.

Summer:You’ve done that too!?

Weiss:I’ve written so many songs that come from my feelings being around my abusive father and most people don’t have a clue. We may be the entertainment at a concert, but we both know how easy it is to see the crowd as the real fools.

Summer:Yet when I talk like this, therapy gets mentioned.

Weiss:Hey, I’ve been to it many times. I know exactly who I am, and you will too. One day at a time. You’re not creatively bankrupt. You’re just not cashing in all the ideas you have.

And with that nugget of wisdom, Weiss kisses her daughter on the forehead before leaving her to think on it.

Summer:(Damn it. She’s gonna feel so proud about that line.) *grabs paper*……

xxxxxx

Weiss:*walking down stairs* I’m back. How’s the puppy?

Jaune:*holding him up* Air jail. Did you solve the one note wonder?

Weiss:Yeah, but it’s gonna get louder in sec-

🎶VVVVVRRRREEEERRRRR🎶

Both of them looked up as the sound of a distorted and almost wailing guitar started singing wildly. Jaune looked at his wife to see her casually head banging with a smug face. They weren’t even sure if the notes lead to something or if their daughter was simply going for it.

Weiss:It’s been awhile since I heard a eulogy like this.

Jaune:A eulogy?

Weiss:Can’t you hear it? It’s for the death of a pop star as we know her.

[pichiru]

The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 1

Chapters - [1] [2] [3] [4]

Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. But who he meets isn't who she thinks she is. Things start to get weird.

Word Count - 1,782

Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery

A/N: Hi everyone! This is the first fanfic I've written in about 10 years! This is my first time posting my writing on Tumblr and I'm very, very nervous. The Grunkle Stan curse has consumed me whole… I'm not sure at the moment exactly how long this fic will be but it'll be a fun ride for us all! :3 I really hope you enjoy! Please feel free to leave feedback about how you feel about the story! I looooooove reading what everyone has to say and how you feel about stuff! It makes me so happy :D

~~~~~~~

“So…”

“Uh huh…”

“What you’re saying is…”

“Uhhhh huuuhhhh.” There was smiling, almost downright giggling, in her voice.

“You…”

“Uh huh!”

“Wanna…”

“EEEEEE!!!” She screeched quietly behind her prayer positioned hands while jumping in place.

“Start your own weird earring business?”

Mabel let out a loud ear piercing scream, causing Dipper to cover his ears quickly. Even at 15, almost 16, Mabel was still so excitable and bubbly. She never lost that part of her personality and she never would if she had anything to say about it.

“Mabel, is there even a market for that kind of thing?” Dipper asked his sister after she finally calmed down enough to have a conversation.

“Dipper…” Mabel started, her tone serious. “You have no frickin idea!” She squealed, jumping some more in place.

“Okay, say for instance I believe you and this is something you’re actually gonna commit to this time, how are you gonna get the materials?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Oh you know…” She said with a wide grin, nudging her brother in his ribs with her elbow. Dipper let out a groan, unfolding his arms to rub where she practically stabbed him.

“He’s not gonna go for it, Mabel. Him or Ford. Grunkle Ford would probably have war flashbacks if you even said the word ‘weird’ around him. Even if you whispered it,” Dipper said matter of factly.

“That’s what you think. You just don’t have the Mabel Pines charm. Or the puppy dog eyes. You’ve lost your edge. You’re too emo now,” Mabel sighed as she started reminiscing how cute and cuddly Dipper used to be. Now he’s just like Robbie. But somehow cooler? Somehow.

“Emo?! It’s called goth!” Dipper said, his voice cracking very slightly. His cheeks flushed, hoping Mabel wouldn’t notice. Her lack of reaction led him to believe she didn’t. But he figured she was just doing him a favor by not embarrassing him about it anymore. It got boring, he figured.

“Anyway,” Dipper started after clearing his throat a little. “I’d like to see you try to convince Stan to foot the bill for this. There’s no amount of 15 year old puppy dog face that’ll get him to do it.”

“Oh ye of little faith, my brother,” Mabel sighed, shaking her head as she started unpacking her luggage.

The twins begged and pleaded to stay with their grunkles for the summer. It was a big summer! Their 16th birthday. Ford and Stan agreed to return from their Stan o War II expeditions on the condition that they could plan a huge party for them before sending them back home. They thought it would be nice to do for the kids. Especially since they haven't really seen them since they turned 13. Dipper, however, has been keeping correspondence with Ford every week.

Mabel pulled a blazer out of her largest suitcase and held it up to Dipper with a wide, metal filled, grin. "I brought this just for the pitch! Hopefully it'll make Grunkle Stan take me seriously since all he does is wear a blazer in the shack. And dress pants. Come to think of it, he wears a full suit to work in a tourist trap," she said mostly to herself at the end.

"Did you get the blazer because you think it'll make you more grown up?" Dipper asked, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Uh, duh, Dipper. Why else would I just have a blazer laying around as a teenager?" Mabel asked, rolling her eyes back.

Dipper had his back turned to Mabel but he smiled at her comment. He loved that his sister was so sarcastic and funny. It was one of his favorite things about her.

After about 15 minutes passed, they were both unpacked and settled into their old room. Ford had even convinced Stan to get the kids their own full sized beds, instead of the smaller twin sized beds. He thought it would make them feel more comfortable. He wasn't wrong though.

Dipper trudged down the stairs first, wanting to be witness to this disaster of a business pitch his sister was about to initiate. He looked around for a moment. It was eerily quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the clicking of a keyboard from the kitchen and hushed arguing. They obviously didn't want to be heard but they sucked at it, frankly.

He sighed and flattened his fingers against his hips to stick them into his pockets. He took a step towards the kitchen before jumping at a loud yell that startled him from head to toe. Of course it was Grunkle Stan's voice. Dipper rushed into the kitchen to see what was going on.

"Grunkle Stan?!" Dipper yelled, his hands gripping the doorway in terror. "Are you okay?!"

Ford and Stan looked to their nephew, confused about why he was so startled. They were huddled around a laptop on the kitchen table. Stan was sitting in front of the computer and Ford standing but leaned down to read what was on the screen.

"Are you okay, kid?" Stan asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Dipper slowed his breathing to a normal pace before laughing it off. "Y-Yeah. I'm A-OK! I just..." He trailed off.

"Dipper, it's alright," Ford said as he walked up to his nephew and placed a solid hand on his shoulder. "We're just..." He looked back at his brother, who shook his head slowly, his mouth a hard line and his eyebrows flat. Ford turned his attention back to Dipper.

"Stan's trying online dating. He says he wants to have a date to your birthday party. I don't care about that sort of thing personally but..."

"SIXER!" Stan blurted as he started blushing furiously, hunching over the computer. "Always openin your mouth..." he grumbled to himself, knowing full well they both could hear him. "I just wanted to make a FRIEND that's not my brother, you kids, or Soos. Can't an old coot want that for himself?"

Ford and Dipper looked at each other with the same intrigued expression. Dipper straightened himself up and nodded.

"Yeah. You can definitely want that for yourself," he answered. "Have you...had any luck?" Dipper asked cautiously.

"Not really," Stan said curtly. He knew online dating at his age would be tedious but not _this_ bad.

"Actually, Dipper," Ford interjected. "Someone just messaged him back. Eagerly," he said, shooting a grin at Stan.

"Shut your trap! We don't even know if she's a real person," Stan grumbled as he typed on the laptop on front of them. "Or if she's a...what is it? Dogwhale?"

"Catfish," Ford and Dipper corrected in unison.

Stan looked at his brother and nephew, squinting his eyes at them. "Sometimes I wonder who's Sixer's twin here. Me or you, kid. Aside from the fact you look like The Cure meets Marilyn Manson these days." He turned back to the computer and continued typing.

"How do you know who Marilyn Manson is?" Dipper asked with much confusion in his voice.

"Don't worry about it, kid," Stan dismissed. "It's a good look on you."

Dipper blushed and rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "Oh! Thanks," he said quietly, looking around the room nervously. "It's a new thing."

"Some of the smartest people I knew in college were goths," Ford added. "Keep up the good work...er...look...Yeah." Ford looked between the other two and left the room quickly out of embarrassment.

"GRRUUNNKKKLLLEEE STAANNNNNN!!!" Mabel squealed as she rushed past Dipper into the kitchen with her blazer on haphazardly. She very obviously didn't know how to put it on to fit her correctly but that didn't stop her from trying.

Stan turned to look at Mabel who was standing there eagerly with a book under her right arm. He couldn't help but smile at his niece still being the same silly person she always has been. It always warmed every corner of his heart. Even though he'd never admit it.

"What's up, kid?" He asked as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his left ankle over his right knee.

ding!

"So! I have a proposition for you!" Mabel said as she pulled her book out and opened it.

ding!

ding!

ding!

"What is that?" Mabel asked curiously as she stepped forward towards Stan and the laptop.

"Nothing!!" Stan said as he slammed the laptop closed.

"Stan's doing online dating," Dipper said without thinking. He made a small noise then covered his mouth quickly.

There was an unsettling silence at first followed by a loud shriek of excitement followed by Mabel jumping up and down with the book still in her hands. "GRUNKLE STAN NO WAY! NOOOOO WAAAAYYY!! AH, I'M SO EXCITED FOR YOU!"

Stan and Dipper both covered their ears.

"Alright, alright, kid. That's enough. It's no big deal."

"IT IS SO A BIG DEAL!!! Have you met anyone yet? Did you ask anyone on a date?" Mabel asked rapidly.

"No and no," Stan said simply.

Mabel's entire disposition changed when he answered. "Oh... Well those dings from the computer sound promising! There was a lot of them too. Maybe it's multiple women trying to get your attention?"

"No. It's...It's one woman. I just met her," Stan said as he opened the laptop back up and went to the woman's profile. "Says here she's an artist, she loves period pieces, and loves all things Halloween. Don't really get the last part but the first two things? It makes her the dame of my dreams," he sighed with a smile. He quickly reigned himself back in and cleared his throat.

"Anyways, we're just...chattin right now. That's all. It probably won't even last a day. She's too good to be true. She's probably a...wazzit called, Dip?"

"Catfish," Dipper answered quickly.

"Yeah that. She's probably a catfish," Stan said sadly.

"Grunkle Stan," Mabel said softly as she walked over to him and sat her book down on the table. "I know you've led a hard life but you deserve happiness. So don't shoot it down before it's even had the chance to take flight," she advised wisely, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Wise words, kid," Stan said, accepting her advice. "I'll...give it a chance."

"YAY!!" Mabel squealed as she clapped her hands happily.

Stan's gaze snapped to the book in front of them. "Wazzat?" he asked, pointing with his chin. "And why the hell are you wearing a blazer? And wearin it like...that?"

A huge grin slowly spread across Mabel's face, showing every single color in her braces, at Stan's sudden interest. "Grunkle Stan...do I have a proposition for you!"

[llamaisllama777]

LAES,TSAMS,EAPS WEEKLY*/*DAILY REVIEW SHOW!!!!!

Okay, we had a lot of really good episodes today, so let's hurry up and talk about them!

First up, FAMILY MOMENTS! I love this thumbnail so much, especially Moon's face.. I .. I just love it!

I love how we get to learn about everyone's movie preferences. It's interesting learning these little random tidbits about them. It's fun. Also Sun...

SPY KIDS 3 IS GREAT, AND I WILL NOT HEAR OTHERWISE!!! 😡

Also, Prince of Egypt is a really good movie. You all should go watch it. Even if you aren't religious, it's really good and has some awesome animation and music. Seriously, if you haven't watched, please do. I think it's on YouTube for free???

This episode was cute.... ONTO THE TRAUMA!

Bout time, I was wondering when Nexus would try to kidnap Sun. Took longer than I expected... I wonder why? 🤔

This episode I think confirmed a theory I had...

New Moon/Nexus never cared.

I had this thought in the back of my head that Nexus never really cared about them. He never thought of them as family. He just saw them as people he was told to call family. They were NEVER his family. He never really cared. He just cared about Solar, but Solar never saw him as a brother. OOOFFFFF!

That hurts!

But I'm glad we know because DANG! The angst there!

Also, Sun is stronger than Nexus' chain ability (That ability where he forces people to the floor. I like to imagine purple chains form around the person when he uses that move)

Nexus was so close to kidnapping Sun....

BUT MONTY CAME IN STINKIN' CLUTCH!!!!!!

Monty FINALLY got to use the shotgun! He nearly killed Nexus there! Thank you, Nebula, for the starshells! The Astrals are starting to grow on me.

(Okay... maybe a was a little rash on the whole "Down with the Astrals" "Viva la revolution" thing!) Sorry, Astrals. Still don't really trust Taurus or Leo tho.

Things are getting serious! October is in like two weeks! The creator is still out there! Rez and Cetus are out there! And Dark Sun still has a stinkin' dragon! This is gonna be an exciting October! I'm so excited!

Also, thank you, Davis and Reed, for this picture of Monty with a shotty.

And lastly...

Okay, Eclipse looks like that one guy from the office that conspiracy theory guy. And Puppet just looks depressed.

Puppet really wants to catch the killer. It's really affecting her. It's the MCI incident all over again. And she clearly doesn't want anyone or herself to go through that again. Eclipse still won't watch movies with anyone. It's only a matter of time, though. The moment he says yes and joins them is the moment his redemption arc is complete for me!

So, Eclipse and Puppet have narrowed down the killer to 4 suspects. All employees of Fazbear.

1. Vincent

2. Some lady named Margo

3. A teenage intern who works in the daycare named Josh

4. And the repair man whose name I forget.

I don't think it's any of these guys. But I have a few theories on who the killer could be..

1. Michael Afton of this world. Eclipse did mention in one of the early episodes of the EAPS that the Michael of this world was/still is an employee of Fazbears.

2. Henry Emily. Just cause the angst that it would cause Puppet.

3. The Charlie of this world. Just cause again the angst it would cause Puppet being the killer of this world!

There is no way it's Wanda(the William of this world)

And I highly doubt it's Vincent or some rando employee.

It has to be someone important.

These episodes were amazing!

Davis, Reed, Kat, Valentine, you guys did amazing on these episodes again!

12/10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Extra point cause WOW!

Also shout out to this commentor for having the funniest comment on there.

Nebula, you are starting to become my favorite Astral!

Also, Patchnotes is a ship I really hope happens now!

[ohlordi]

Is it casual now? - matt sturniolo !

pairing: fem!reader x matt sturniolo

summary: you're not entirely sure what's going on between you and matt but its not 'just casual'.

warnings: 18+ smut, angst (a tinyyyy bit), oral (f receiving), p in v (wrap it before u tap it ༝༚༝༚)

a/n: my first ever fic wowweeee!! im aware its not too long and im sorry if its all over the place.. I haven't written anything in such a long time, but I hope you enjoy and I promise my writings will get better !

NOT PROOFREAD

“I told you, it's just casual between us.. you said it yourself at the start, 'no attachments'”

his words swarmed around in your mind as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling fan, replaying the conversation you and matt had earlier on that week.

yes you said no attachments at the start, but hearing those words get repeated back to you hit you like a train. it had made you feel undesired, maybe you were being a bit too dramatic over a boy, but god what happened to the matt who captivated you with his appealing and promising persona.

did those few months mean nothing to him?

all those persistent mornings cuddled up to his side, laying in his bed or all those nights spent with messy hair, glistening skin, soft moans and unmeaningful i love you's floating around the room.

he knew everything about you, every birthmark, every insecurity and every worry that raced around your head. but you were 'just casual' to him.

in the beginning it really was just nothing other than two friends having 'fun' and disappearing into one another's rooms, but one time matt had took you out for a drive as he was 'bored' and there was nothing to do back at his house, after a while of driving around matt pulled over his car and made his way into the passenger seat footwell, his eyes staring into yours. he flicked his tongue inside of you, slow at first but as you were getting closer his speed was getting faster. you had a handful of his hair locked into your hand, tugging on it. he looked up at you once more with a flash of cockiness in his eyes as he smirks bringing you over the edge. you both came, matt in his pants, you all over matts face, he crawled back into the drivers seat grabbing your chin, bringing you in for a kiss as he wipes his chin and starts driving back home.

You stare at him the whole ride home, brain foggy but one thing stuck out to you in your mind. How is he so beautiful, even after all of that..

is it really just casual?

another time being when you flew to boston with him to go see his parents and they took you to a elegant restaurant, you had known his family for a few years so it was never awkward, you always felt so welcomed when you were around them.

You were deep into a conversation with matt's parents when u feel a slight tap on your shoulder.

'im going to the bathroom' matt mouthed to you as you just nodded your head and went back to the previous conversation you were having.

5 minutes later you receive a message from matt

Come to the bathroom quickly.

You excuse your self from the table as you make your way over to the bathrooms. One thing leads to another and you're swiftly bent over the bathroom stall's sink, matt right behind you thrusting into you like it was his last night on earth.

“Always such a brat huh? is this what you wanted?” matt sharply said as you nod your head sheepishly making matt roll his eyes, giving you a sharp slap on ur ass.

“Close” you manage to mumble out as you feel matt get rougher, sliding his hand down to your clit making you whimper from the sensitive touch. using his other hand he covers your mouth, just as you let out a pornographic moan

“im gonna fill this pussy up so much” matt groans out, clearly speaking without thinking.

You both finish, he helps you clean yourself up before leaving the bathroom back to the table as if nothing had just happened.

Your phone pings, ripping you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to reality. You check who messaged you, heart dropping as your eyes begin to swell up with tears.

Matt.

Im sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it.

Can we talk?

Please.

[justanintrovertedweirdo]

THIS SONG IS SO FUCKING GOOD WHY HAVE I NOT LISTENED TO IT SOONER!!!!??? THE FACT THAT THE ACTUAL VOICE OF JAX IS IN IT MAKES IT SO MUCH BETTER!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

[essektheylyss]

It took me like two hours to process that Caleb's description of dunamis actually was somewhat new information and then go back to grab the transcription because, uh, both "form of magic that exists between the fabric of all of forces of power" and "one of the oldest and most fundamental forces" are far more confidently firm descriptions than we ever got in campaign 2.

Was I actually roughly correct about what dunamis was??? HELLO???

VINDICATION?!?!

[spock-smokes-weed]

Zoro being incredibly fussy about Sanji giving him another baby (once he realizes he does want more kids), and while he’s miserable with morning sickness all the straw hats are like “you’re the one who wanted this, dude”

[lopsidedtreetrunks]

Germany and his pokédoggies 🐶💕

Another thing for my pokétalia au (which admittedly i haven't posted a whole lot of yet rip). Of course Ludwig's team would be made up of exclusively dog pokémon lmao

also these doggies may be size-inaccurate so,, like apparently manectric is supposed to be 4'11??? and im afraid i just simply do not accept that. hes a little guy he is not that tall bsfsfsljksdlk

[altruistic-meme]

yeah actually cars 3 slapped why hadn't i watched it since it first came out????

[afniel]

Maaaaaaaaaaaan, come on.

(the post has ended up in the tags btw. I am not changing this and I need you to understand that it is just me talking to myself semi-publicly)

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

coping with things so well today so i’m bragging about it ✨

[toastsnaffler]

not that this means anything to anyone but v4 (yellow) I'm rly proud of finally fucking getting at the gym today its taken me 3 visits over the last 3 weeks to nail it. woof......

[warningstandbygo]

The great thing about being an Adult is that if you randomly get Extremely Overwhelmed by Existence, no one can stop you from going into your closet in your bedroom with your laptop, changing into a onesie, and sitting in the dark quiet enclosed space all by yourself (even though you're the only one here because your spouse isn't home from work yet).