#im a notes app guy

[void-dude]

Oh yeah his brain finally kick started processing his emotions! Against his will!!!

Bill at therapy part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[someguywriting]

and do you use spellcheck?

[ceilidho]

"margaritaville" as the title of a price/reader fic where reader meets John on vacation at the swim-up bar and they hook up in his hotel room where he conveniently forgets to use a condom because he secretly thinks she'd look cute with a baby

[drac0line1nn1t]

*Wade left his phone on the subway and the lost and found isn't open till Monday, it's Friday* Wade: But what if it got stolen!! Logan: We'll check lost and found on Monday. Wade: But what if they don't find it and it slipped down the side of a seat. Logan: Then we'll search the trains. Wade: But I don't know what train it was. Logan: Then I'll track it with the app I downloaded. Wade: You downloaded what- wait, it's out of batteryyyy. Logan: Then we'll buy you a goddamn new phone Wade. Wade: But then I'll lose all the sleepy kitty photos I have of you- Logan: The. What? Wade: Ahaha- we'll call them on Monday!!!

[decoyfinalgirl]

this is the future that the liberals of godolkin want

[dustykneed]

spock remembers the loneliness of his childhood in shades of red, like dust clinging to his skin under a green sky, brittle and hollow and far too vast.

but now-- now, the loneliness is far away, a distant memory in this warm bed, because how could the world be too vast, when he has his whole universe in the warm bodies pressed up against him-- when he has everything he could ever have wished for in his arms.

he is not lonely, he thinks to himself, as leonard shifts against his chest and jim makes a soft, adoring sound, muffled in his hair. not anymore.

...

prompt fill for @mcspirkevents' mcspirk bingo prompt "therapy" ^^ spock works through his childhood trauma in space by being gay. what an icon

4 down!!! hell yeah 🩵💙💛

side note if anyone was wondering. THIS is what my screen time looks like (casually spending nearly 13 hours drawing in the apple notes app per week when medibang paint is sitting pretty at just 2 hours total. The power of hypfix amirite)

[starscelly]

Introducing up and coming punk band from Dallas: The Flying Stars !

[ren-lui]

who even are these guys

[munchy-k]

u kno I found out the other day that when most ppl daydream they do it about themselves??? and thats kinda wild to me. I have never once daydreamed about myself all my daydreams are about OCs JANSJDJAKS

[kolektsiakomah]

lonely-mans lazarus is ruining my life rn . how in the world do you recover from stumbling upon a brilliant story only to find out the very 1st rendition of it was retconned and you missed out on a huge chunk of lore + content + fandom fun so now as a stinky newbie you have to piece everything together yourself

[terrasu]

[blyszczopies]

its still insane to me that theres at least one person eagerly waiting for me to make a new post on my blogspot. i was writing posts throwing them into the ether im not even capable of reading them again. what if i said somethign stupid. and yet

[lighthouseas]

- brick fireplace // a byler ficlet

Mike thinks he might have a sixth sense, of some kind.

Having not slept very soundly these past few months, Mike has miraculously found that he's actually fallen asleep the night Will has to stay in his room due to the limited space in the Wheeler household.

And those two things are NOT related. Obviously.

It's just coincidence, then, when he jolts awake, utterly disoriented, to the sound of heavy breathing - like someone is having a panic attack. Mike turns to the side, where Will is currently stationed on the floor, sleeping in a sleeping bag that Mike had had to shake the dust out of due to it having been left at the back of a storage closet for...who knows how long.

"Will?" he whispers. He can't really see anything, since his room is pitch black - but he can hear the gasping breaths, which immediately stop once he speaks.

"Sorry," Will murmurs. "I'm sorry. I- I woke you up, didn't I?"

Mike shuffles under his bedcovers, still not really awake but immediately sensing that something is wrong regardless. "Yeah, but -" Will's breathing is still heavy. Mike wonders if he'll take oxygen donations from him. "Are you okay?"

It's a stupid question. No shit, Mike, of course Will isn't okay. He's kind of reliving all of his childhood trauma on full display for all of his family and friends. No, Will is not okay. And as Will's best friend, Mike should know this. He's a little scared, though - a bit hesitant to reach beyond the walls they've built up over the last two years. Scared that if he pokes at one brick - removes a single block, puts one stick out of place - reaches out and says, let me help calm you, holds Will in his arms like he so desperately wants to - the walls will come crashing down, all at once. And that's not what he wants. And probably not what Will wants, either, but really, what does he know?

Beside him, Will is silent for a moment. "Do you want an honest answer?" he murmurs. Mike tenses. He knows what Will is referencing, of course - lying to him about the painting, which had nearly fractured their friendship forever. He's not letting him lie again.

"Well, yeah."

"It was just-" Will sighs. He definitely thinks it isn't a big deal, even though it fucking is, and Mike is overcome with the urge to shake him violently by the shoulders. "A nightmare. They've been getting worse since-"

"...yeah." It doesn't take Mike long to realize what Will is referring to - all he has to do is look through the cracks in his blinds to see the red clouds, probably identical to the ones Will had seen in 1983, coating the Hawkins' skies above.

"Yeah," Will replies softly.

They're silent for another moment. Mike feels like - well, he feels a lot of things, most of which he has a terrible time expressing. But right now, he just feels tired, and he knows Will is, too, if the bags under his eyes Mike's been seeing as of late are anything to go by.

And so he pokes at a loose brick in the wall. It can't hurt. "Why don't you come up here?" Mike pats the empty bedspace beside him, and he swears he hears Will gasp. As if they hadn't done this countless times before as little kids.

It's different now, obviously. The connotation is different, after everything that's gone on. But Mike is delirious from lack of sleep, and the only coherent thoughts his brain is putting together are Will and scared, which he figures amounts to something, especially when his mattress dips as additional weight is added to it and he finds himself naturally giving the bigger part of the blanket to Will, who always shivered if he didn't have at least two blankets, no matter how warm it was outside.

"Mike, you don't have to do this," Will says airily as Mike gently pushes his shoulder to ease him onto the mattress. Mike's eyelids are already droopy. He doesn't fully realize the implications of what he's doing, but Will definitely feels tired, too, and doesn't either. "I'm okay."

"Mm. Then why did you come up here? Could've refused," Mike replies teasingly, but there's no bite behind it.

The brick is coming loose. Wobbling on the other side of the wall, creating a crack in the structure that one can just barely see through to the other side with.

"I-" Despite his previous opposal, Will is now actively snuggling into the blankets. He chuckles. "I dunno. You're like...a human furnace, I guess. And I was cold."

Mike's eyes are closed, now. "I do run hot," he murmurs. "You needed company, too. C'mon, admit it."

"Mike-"

"You love me."

All goes silent for a moment. Mike is beginning to fall asleep. The brick is teetering on the edge of falling out, but not quite removed from the wall yet. Maybe that can wait until tomorrow.

"I'm cold. You're hogging the blankets," Will whispers, though Mike can tell he wants to say something else.

Without opening his eyes, Mike shifts forward, hoisting himself farther up onto the pillows so his head rests atop Will's and his long arms can wrap protectively around his torso. It's nice, and ridiculously cozy. Will breathes fast against his neck, and for a moment, Mike thinks he may be having a nightmare again.

"What are you doing?"

And - okay. Mike doesn't really know what he's doing, at the moment. He's sort of already half asleep, and Will says he's cold, and Mike runs hot, so he's come to the only logical solution: be Will's human furnace (and protector against nightmares, but that's a silly title, and Mike knows Will hates talking like that. Maybe it can just be implied.)

"I'm keeping you warm," Mike answers simply.

Silence. He fidgets, though it's more like a fish flop since his muscles have turned to jelly with sleep. In doing so, he accidentally nuzzles his face into Will's hair, and catches a brief scent of vanilla shampoo.

"Is this...okay?" Mike asks, just to make sure.

Will is silent for a moment, and then Mike feels him nod against his sternum. It sends shivers up his spine, but they're the good kind - the kind that ease Mike into slumber almost immediately.

He's asleep, now, all noises from the outside muffled. Something whispers into his sternum - it feels like lips, tracing quiet words into his skin, begging him to understand. Begging him to just feel.

"I love you."

The brick falls out of the wall, and Mike pulls Will just a little bit closer.

[sacrificialmutt]

chat how much aura did i lose when i woke up nearly crying from a dream where i was reunited with the only person ive ever loved romantically (my elementary school bsf) (i am starting college this year)

[yutamayo]

Honestly, I can see it. Soichiro Yagami was loyal as fuck.

[thxnks4themrms]

Wait I must put Mari’s new blog in my notes section