#it’s like I can see it but not comprehend it

[soggyriceee]

being a stripper wasn’t something you had enjoyed. you didn’t enjoy having a 5 year old at home, wondering why your best friend is home to babysit more than you are. you didn’t enjoy selling your body for a couple hindered bucks. but it was what made you money, made you be able to afford a roof over your sons head, school clothes and supplies, food.

you didn’t enjoy being knocked up at the early age of 18. the father of course fleeing, neglecting any and all contact with you or your family.

but what you did enjoy. was him.

“good evening, scarlet.” he would say softly, always grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it. his eyes would then run down your frame, taking in how you were wearing the new lingerie he had brought you the previous Sunday night.

“good evening Konig.” you would respond, hiding the smile that crept onto your face. your heart beat for this man. every sunday you expected him, your face lighting up when you’d seen his name booked on your private room list.

every sunday, you’d give him your body. and he’d return the favor with gifts, money. you had opened up to him about your life the first night he had finally booked a private room with you, tired of having to share you with all of other men in the club. this was months ago.

his hands wound grip your waist as he bounced you up and down on him, his eyes hooked to your wet lips, your nose your eyes. he felt brand new with you. like a teenager, it was exhilarating what he felt everytime he’d slide his cock into you.

he loved how he was the only one who got to see you like this. see you so vulnerable so weak beneath him. he loved how that tough , independent women in you disappeared as soon as he touched you.

“let me take care of you.” he would whisper in your ear, feeling his orgasm creeping up on him quickly. “i-i can.. take you away from all of this.”

your eyes would open, looking down at his almost pleading eyes. you’d felt his cock twitch once, then twice inside you. “k-konig don’t come in me.” you’d warn, trying to fight against his tight grip. but you failed miserably.

but for some reason it made you so much wetter.

his hips bucked up into you, his whimpers growing louder as his fingers dug into your skin. “i-i love you… i wanna take care of you,” hed whimper again, “l-let it happen baby lemme take care of you.”

before you could fully comprehend what he had said, his hips would give one final thrust , konig chanting your name softly.

you were slightly in shock with what had just happened. konig and you had strictly avoided this. his come inside you. but what had you even more shocked. was that he said he loved you.

he’d place on last kiss to your lips, then your nose. “i meant it. i love you.. i’m gonna take care of you.” he said.

and then, he’d then turn, grabbing his ring off the glass table and sliding it onto his finger before walking out. that was two weeks ago. and the last time you’d heard from him since

yall i don’t condone cheating at all i just was at work and had this random idea for a little short story PLZ DONT CHEAT ON UR PARTNER😩✋🏽

[simplygojo]

I Like Your Tie...

A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.

Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name

The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.

But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.

There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 

—

You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 

You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 

But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.

As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.

There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.

And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.

There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 

Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.

But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 

The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.

—

His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.

“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.

“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.

“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.

Your heart pounded in your chest. 

“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.

Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 

“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 

“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 

The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.

"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.

Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.

“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”

Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.

“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.

The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.

The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.

“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.

His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.

Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.

You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.

His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 

"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"

His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 

His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.

His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.

He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.

Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."

Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 

His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.

The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.

“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.

He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.

“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 

Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 

With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.

“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.

“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”

You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.

"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.

He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.

You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”

The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 

“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.

You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.

“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.

“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”

His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.

The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.

He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”

His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.

Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace

His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.

Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.

“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”

Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 

The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.

“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.

His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.

“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”

His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.

Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 

But he didn’t stop. 

Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.

Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”

Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 

"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.

“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"

You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.

Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”

With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.

"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."

He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 

His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 

“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 

Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”

[stevesgother]

Dress - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - 2 times Steve Harrington has lost his mind seeing you in a dress that fits you like skin, and the one time he does something about it.

Contains - best friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is pathetically in love, loosely based off of ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift. Or maybe heavily based lol

Warnings - steve & reader ARE 18 in this, they just haven’t graduated yet, drinking, vomit. As always, let me know if I missed anything

AN - THIS IS PART 1 OF A WIP. second fic…ever! also my first mini series! i was gonna make it all one fic but i figured it would be easier to digest this way. enjoy :)

Senior Prom - May 1985

Michael Cooper. That’s who was waiting for you downstairs in your foyer, sweet talking your parents while he waited to escort you to your final high school dance. He wasn’t your first choice for your senior prom, hardly even your second; but he was respectable enough for you to be seen on his arm for one night.

Taking one last look at yourself in your vanity mirror, you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress. It was a beautiful baby pink ball gown with lace trim and puffy sleeves. Before you can think better of it, before you can feel guilty for it, you imagine Steve’s reaction when he sees you tonight.

Steve Harrington. Your best friend since diapers. Your mothers grew up together, so naturally when they found out they were pregnant at nearly the exact same time, it only made sense that they would orchestrate your friendship immediately.

As it turns out, not much orchestrating would be required. The second your little baby brains could comprehend what it meant to love another person, the rest was history. Wherever you went, Steve went too. You’re not sure when your feelings for him started to change. The usual calm that washed over you whenever you were in his presence one day seemed to transform into something different. You felt nervous, like someone had released a net of butterflies into your stomach.

You clear your head with a harsh shake and grab your clutch off the bed, making your way downstairs. Michael is waiting for you with a green corsage in a shiny translucent box. ‘That's Sweet,’ you think, “if only it matched my dress.’ 

–

Upon arriving at the gym, the first thing you do, consciously or not, is scan the room for your best friend. You spot him quickly, his perfectly manicured hair and well-pressed suit making him hard to miss. Even harder to miss is the gorgeous, curly haired brunette resting her head on his shoulder.

Nancy Wheeler.

They’ve been together for over a year at this point, even joining your close knit circle of friends. Despite this, you can’t help the nagging sense of jealousy stabbing at your chest, making your face heat up. You tell yourself it’s the humidity inside the gymnasium, and not the fact that you’d give anything to be in her position. You quickly abandon your date and try not to feel guilty for it, making your way over to the happy couple.

“Steve!” You call as you come further into their line of sight.

“Hey you!” Steve stands and gives you a tight hug. “Hey!’ you greet, returning the embrace. He can’t help the way his eyes quickly travel down the expanse of you, noticing the shape this dress gives your body. He prays to any listening God that his girlfriend didn’t notice, that you didn’t notice. “Hey Nance.” You address her with a polite smile. She gives you a hug without warning. Another thing that irks you about Nancy Wheeler: that girl is impossible to hate. You have every reason to despise her, and yet you can’t. She’s kind, funny, strong-willed and beautiful. She’s so ‘girl next door’, she’s so…not you. Occasionally you’ve wondered if it’s a front, that she can’t possibly be that perfect.

“Where’s Michael?” She asks inquisitively; like she genuinely cares where your douchebag date has run off to. A quick scan of the room reveals he’s already talking up another girl by the photobooth. There’s not one part of you that gives a shit. “We were just thinking about grabbing some food, wanna come with?” Steve nods his head toward the various appetizers they have set up on tables decorated with gaudy tinsel and tablecloths. “Yeah, why not?”, you smile and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

–

An hour and 2 cups of spiked punch later, ‘Heaven’ by Bryan Adams starts to play and you feel like you might hurl. Nancy’s face quickly lights up and she gives her date a knowing look, “Steve! Let's dance! Please??”. She’s immediately pulling him away from the table where you’ve been watching them flirt all night. Her delicate hand resting on his bicep, his large one finding a home on her thigh. He sends you a sympathetic look as he rises; sorry that he has to leave you there, sorry that you won’t be slow dancing with anyone tonight. He has no idea.

Your date is long gone. The two of you going together was a ticket inside and nothing more.

The air in the gym is suffocating and frankly smells of sweaty basketball shorts, so you decide to make your way outside for some fresh air. The romantic serenade of Bryan Adams’ voice is nothing more than a quiet lullaby as you lean against the brick wall of your high school.

You hear him before you see him. “Hey stranger,” the open door momentarily lets the humidity escape and you feel it wash over your skin. “you alright?” he asks with a half smile.

“Yeah just,” you say looking around, “getting some air is all,” returning the expression. He imitates you and decides to lean on the wall, a little too close for comfort. You’re all but slapped across the face with his scent. Cinnamon, a no doubt expensive musky cologne, and sweat. You can feel him looking at you, so you decide to meet his gaze; praying that he can’t see the crimson shade of red creeping up your neck and cheeks simply from standing next to him. You feel so pathetic at times like these. 

“Nance found a couple of her girlfriends, figured it’d be a good time for a smoke.” He pulls a cigarette out of his suit jacket pocket, and lights it. His hand cupped to cover the breeze.

“Those’ll kill ya, you know?” you smirk, knowing. You’ve always teased him for his bad habits, especially this one. “Yeah well,” he says in an inhale, “now’s as good a’ time as any, right?”

He grins at you, smug. It sends you reeling and you hope your thundering heartbeat doesn’t give you away. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

After a few minutes of silence, he stomps his cigarette out on the pavement and turns to fully face you. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and your breath hitches in your throat.  Steve’s complimented you before, thousands of times. So why does this feel like you’ve just been slammed into a wall of concrete?

“Steve…”

You feel like he’s getting closer. You’ve definitely had too much to drink.

Before you can stop yourself or even comprehend what’s happening, you vomit all the contents of your stomach directly onto Steve’s perfectly polished loafers. He yelps, most in surprise, slightly in horror. Despite that undeniable foulness of the situation, his hands immediately move to hold your hair back, just in case you aren’t, well, finished. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re okay,” he soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He starts to lead you to his car in the parking lot, leaving you here alone not an option for him. “What about Nancy?” you sob, “I’ll come back and get her, honey. Don’t worry.” Honey. You almost puke again.

Once he settles you into the passenger seat of his pristine BMW, you watch as he toes off his shoes and throws them in the garbage. When he slides into the driver's seat and turns on the ignition, he turns and brings a palm up to cradle your jaw. “Guess I’m gonna have to keep an eye on ya next time,” he chuckles, “can’t handle your mildly spiked punch.” You groan, but give a breathy chuckle of your own, “Just drive, Harrington.”

When you arrive home, you breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of your family car in the driveway. Your mother would certainly pitch a fit if she saw you like this - mascara streaked down your face, an obnoxious yellow stain down the front of your once flawless dress. Steve leads you upstairs with a hand on the small of your back, and a palm cradling your elbow. You know you’re not drunk, and you’re almost positive that wasn’t the reason you spilled your guts. But the alternative to just letting Steve take care of you would be admitting that you love him, that you’re in love with him.

You don’t bother taking your makeup off, Steve just helps you change into an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. “Lights on or off?” He asks as he pulls the covers up and over you, “Off, please.” he gives you a little two-finger salute, “you got it.” Just as he’s reaching underneath your lamp shade you whisper, “Steve?” he looks, “yeah trouble?” “I’m sorry for ruining your night…and throwing up on your shoes.” you give a sheepish look. Even though he would have every right to be, you know he’s not mad at you.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head,”the shoes we can discuss at a later date,” he shoots you a wink, making sure you know he’s only teasing.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Without another word he closes the bedroom door, bathing you in darkness. Just before you succumb to sleep, you’re filled with dread at the thought that you’re gonna remember this in the morning.

Cheers to senior year.

[mikkomacko]

timo and some of the guys taking reader out drinking and returning to an angry nico with a drunk reader

You did nothing wrong, to be fair.

Well maybe not entirely since you never once told Nico that you weren’t in fact having a quiet night at home anymore.

It was supposed to be a cute and cozy movie night for the two of you, but Nico had some stuff to work out with Lee and the Isles so he’d gone over to Elmont with Jonas and Jesper.

And whatever deal or job they were working out had run far longer than they thought it would. Nico was gonna be home late, something he swore he’d make up for by cooking you dinner tomorrow night, whatever you wanted, and then snuggling with you on the couch after.

It was a fair deal. So you weren’t upset. That and you know how this life goes. It’s very unpredictable and you’ve learned to adapt.

Which is exactly what you did when Timo’s contact lit up your phone screen ten minutes after Nico rescheduled your date.

“Come to the bar with us tonight!” He had said in place of a greeting, and you could hear the muffled voices of the other boys in the background.

“I don’t Teems,” you mumbled, eyeing the couch and fuzzy blankets you’d laid out earlier.

The line rustled, Timo’s disgruntled shout trailing away as someone stole the phone from him.

“Come on boss,” it was Mercer, words already a little sloppy. “We can’t go out without our leader, and we’d rather have you than Nico anyway.”

Before you could answer, overlapping shouts of encouragement and jeering interrupted whatever excuse you were trying to come up with. Instead you laughed.

“Alright alright! I’ll be ready in half an hour, someone better be outside to pick me up!”

That was four hours ago.

Four hours of scream singing Kesha in the car with Jack, Luke, and Holtzy who were your drivers for the night. Four hours of slipping into Nico’s seat at the private booth, martini and martini coming to the table. They were unstopping, always with extra garnishes, and always at the ready like some weird fountain of youth. Four hours of trying to out drink Mercer and out dance Timo. Four hours of keg standing behind the bar with Lazar and Dermy.

Lazar gives out first, legs awkwardly slipping from Haula’s hold and his boots crash heavily into the wood floor. The boys holler like drunk frat boys at a football game, Dermy slapping at your calf in celebration and you let the nozzle slip from your lips.

Dermy carefully drops your legs, your toes barely touching the ground before him, Timo, and Mercer are squeezing around you. Head spinning, from both alcohol and being upside down, you laugh as Timo lifts you up. Hanging over his shoulder you find Jack, the older Hughes boy just as plastered and lining up a row of fireball shots.

“Miss boss!” He yells, messily waving you over and you stretch your arms out towards him.

“Jacky!” You call, words slurring but enough for him to comprehend. And Timo too because he stumbles around the counter to Jack, placing you on the sticky bar top.

Mercer’s head pops up next to you, propped on his elbows and his eyes twinkle when he sees the shot glasses.

“We should close the bar for just us more often.” Mercer laughs, shaking sweaty strands of hair off his forehead. Haula claps him on the shoulder, a shit eating grin on his face when he looks between the group of you.

“And leave Nico at home!” He teases, winking at you. You laugh, elbow digging into Mercers shoulder as you lean over him to get closer to Haula.

“But I like him!” You defend, swaying a bit when Mercer adjusts his stance in order to accept the overflowing shot glass Jack is hanging him. “He’s so fun!”

They all groan in unison, dramatically hanging their heads as if you just said the most  egregious sentence ever spoken.

“Babe,” Jack pouts, “you don’t have to lie to us. You can say you’re with him because he’s hot.”

He hands you a shot glass. “What?” You gasps, then giggle drunkenly. “He’s so fun. We should invite him.”

Jack and Mercer share a look. “You must not be drunk enough. Hurry and down that.”

You don’t need to be told twice. The group of you messily clink glasses together, fireball dripping down your fingers and then you’re tossing it back.

Heat licks at your throat and chest, enough to make your voice hoarse when you jab a finger at Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t be mean to my Nico, mister.”

He holds his hands up in defense. “M’just saying, he doesn’t have a lot of hobbies.”

“Boring,” Haula cackles. “He’s saying he’s boring.”

“That is so not true!” You shout, shocked that any of them could say that. “Take that back Jack!”

The boy giggles, smacking Timo on the chest before nodding at you. “Beat me at a keg off and I’ll take it back!”

Not one to shy away from a challenge, especially when drunk, you push yourself off the bar with gangly limbs. Timo reaches out to steady you, helping you to your feet with a drunken laugh.

“Dermy,” you shout, “get my feet. We’re kegging!”

~~~~~

Which is where Nico finds you two minutes later, sitting on Timo and Dermy’s shoulders with the leg nozzle hanging from your lips and Jack on his knees behind the bar, puking into the trash can.

You don’t see him at first, triumphantly holding your fists in the air while the two men bounce you in time with all the boys cheering. Luke is at your feet, a wide grin plastered on his face and phone out taking either a video or a photo.

Not that it matters to you, sticking your tongue out and squeezing your eyes shut as you lean forward into the camera. Time has to grab your thigh to keep you from falling, laughing when you cheer “suck on that Jacky boy!”

You can hear Jack trying to rebuttal, but it’s quickly cut off by the ear piercing whistle that rings through the empty bar.

Everyone freezes, half of you out of fear and the other half out of drunken surprise. Because three men are in the entryway of the bar, Jesper and Jonas trying to hide amused smiles as they take in the scene in front of them.

You plastered and on the shoulders of Timo and Dermy, the boys jeering you on. And Jack on the floor, two seconds away from passing out.

You’re too focused on the beautiful man in front though, unfazed by the scowl on his lips and the pinch between his eyebrows. He’s still in the dress pants he wore this morning, but his button up has been abandoned in favor of a black tank top, so tight you think you can see his abs through it.

“What is going on here?” Nico growls, arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes fall to his biceps, mouth pooling with saliva as they flex.

Timo and Dermy drop you, not enough for it hurt but enough that it makes your knees wobble and buckle, only staying upright when Luke’s body gets in the way of you falling.

“Oh shit,” Timo mutters. “Sorry babe.”

You don’t care. All you care about is the beautiful, beautiful man up front that’s staring at you so heatedly you think you might melt.

“Nicoooo!” You sing, stumbling through the crowd of boys and towards your boyfriend. He meets you halfway, sighing heavily when you trip on your own feet and wobble forward.

Crashing into his chest, you slink your arms around his middle, wrap your right leg around his left and squish your cheek into his body. Nico wraps an arm around you to keep you steady, fingers tight around your bicep.

“Whose bright idea was this?” Nico calls out, gruff and annoyed. You can hear muttering behind you, all the boys arguing over who to blame and who kept serving drinks and who challenged who and who even planned this in the first place.

Sleepy, you tuck your chin into his chest and blink up Nico. “Don’t be mad, why are you mad?”

Nico sighs softly, peering down at you with a raised eyebrow. “You didn’t think to tell me that you wouldn’t be at home tonight?” He asks, though it doesn’t actually sounds like a question.

“Or maybe answer your phone when I text? Or again when I call? Five times?”

Confused, you slap at the back pocket of your jeans, frowning when you come up empty handed. You have no idea where your phone is.

“Lost,” you respond, clinging tighter to Nico when he looks over your head and nudges forward, free hand stretching out. Then he’s wiggling your phone in front of you, an amused frown on his face when you smile.

“You found it! It’s because you’re so smart, I know you’re so smart and fun. And funny too, like when you make that face.”

Your fingers find his mouth, tracing over his pout fondly. Nico ignores your touch and slips your phone into your back pocket.

“I was worried,” he scolds, voice deep and rumbly. “Especially when you didn’t answer the fifth call…”

Nico looks at you pointedly, and it settles heavily in your gut when you finally realize what he’s saying. You’d gone MIA on him pretty much. As soon as Luke and Holtzy were knocking on your door, you’d forgotten everything except that Jack had Jell-O shots in the back seat and Luke is good on aux.

You never told Nico where you were going or how long. And then you never answered your phone.

Okay maybe you did technically do something wrong.

“Nico,” you gasps softly, dropping your right foot back to the ground and standing up straight. “M’sorry. I just-Luke and then Jack, and Mercer called me boss, and then we were having fun-“

��Oh I know,” he interrupts. “I had about ten videos from Jack of you on the bar and then on the keg and on the dance floor.”

Maybe he’s a tiny bit amused now, ready to let everything go. You smile innocently, cheeks heating up as he recounts your drunken fun. Nico nods to the Devs behind him.

“Someone get Jack home. The rest of you clean up and get out.”

Immediately they jump into action, scuffling and chatting lowly as the sober help the drunk home. You imagine Luke is in charge of Jack and you wince.

“What?” Nico mumbles, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I made Jack throw up.” You whisper, giggling quietly. “And now Luke has to clean him up.”

Nico blinks. “Good, maybe it’ll teach them to grow up.”

You pout. “I’m older than them.”

“You don’t need to grow up. You can stay just like this.”

“Because you’ve got me?”

Pride glimmers in his dark eyes. “Because I got you.”

Nico takes you home after that, holds your hand in the car and talks you through chugging a bottle of water on the ride there. And he helps you inside, an arm around your waist when you stumble through the front door. And he even holds your hair when you dash into the kitchen to throw up.

Even if he is angry or annoyed, he’s got you.

[romanticatheartt]

You always have to bring feysand into everything specially in your gwynriel or elucien posts. Can you not do that? Some of us doesn't like their content in the tags

I've rarely seen a feysand also loving gwynriel and elucien and it seems you're the only one

You know I always wondered why some of Feysands who have already stated that they ship Gwynriel or Elucien, never talk about them. I got my answer. Because y'all are so welcoming, thank you so much!!

I'm not the only one who ship Feysand and also ship G and E, there are so many out there but I admit that Feysand might not be their otp.

And first of all, this is my blog and I post anything that I want. Either you can like and engage with it OR, this might be shocking to you I know you can block me. That way you will never see any of my posts. (do you want me to make a tutorial for it? just ask!)

Second, if you have problem with my post and you still, for some weird reasons, don't want to block me you can always filter the tags. (I can also make a tutorial for this too)

I'm sorry that your brain can't comprehend the fact that I can be a multi-shipper without being a hater and enjoying my time being in this fandom.

I never noticed that I bring Feysand into everything, guilty as charged... I can't stop talking about them.😔

I didn't want to answer this because it seems you're just a child and no mature person would ever talk like that but if this is a problem of anyone out there and is bothered by my posts I want them to block me. Don't worry I wouldn't be offended... I'd actually appreciate it<3

[nosyrobin]

KICK ASS‼️

Damian Al Ghul-Wayne x GN!Reader

Summary: accidentally snapping when someone unknown touches you, you flipped them straight onto their ass only to learn it’s the Batman’s sidekick Robin.

Something clicks in your mind when you feel threatened, it’s like you have an off and on switch for combat mode as you don’t comprehend your own movements. You sometimes just do it, it’s not an order. It’s a will to survive.

It’s always a will to survive when you live in the bad parts of Gotham and work for Batman undercover. Being a minor civilian and helping Robin with his own stuff or even helping solve crimes with Red Robin has its perks. They didn’t even need to train you when they seen how your eyes snapped around. Searching your surroundings like a hawk ready to take on its prey.

You had just came from an after school activity, it’s cold and windy for a night in Gotham as you can hear faint police sounds and just cars speeding pass. You scoff seeing some guys smoke and laugh loudly like cackling hyenas. It was perpetuating. And it make you sick at how they stare at people as well. You kept walking though, not paying any mind until you heard footsteps that didn’t sound like your own. You started to pace up, hearing the Same footsteps fasten as well.

You kept walking fast, hearing the footsteps gain on you as your breath going in rapidly. In. Out. In. Out. You couldn’t feel yourself hear your heart anymore when you felt a gloved hand touch your shoulder.

And that’s when it activated.

Your eyes widen, body moving before your mind can pace itself. You grabbed the hand that dropped onto your shoulder. Twisting its wrist and pulling its arm forward and flipping their entire body weight above you.

A hiss and groan came out of the person’s mouth, you let out a breath of air. Ready to stomp their head before seeing the red and yellow colors. You halted your foot above Robin’s head. “Dude, I could’ve killed you.” You said in a weary tone as your combat mode decease. Helping the short boy up who seemed to scoff.

“I could’ve handled the hit to the head. But good reflexes…” you only rolled your eyes before looking at him with worry. “You sure I didn’t slam you on the ground to hard? I’m pretty sure I don’t know how to handle my own strength…” you said as Robin dust himself off. Looking at you now with a small smug.

“I’m fine. But you, you kick ass, and that’s for sure.”

[caldroiocht]

99% of people on here can’t comprehend that different categories are needed for different crimes. Call female on male, male on male or female on female rape, but male on female needs to be classed and seen differently because IT IS fundamentally different. It is the oppressor assaulting the oppressed, there can be a risk of pregnancy and it is a clear sign that such a man is no more than an un-evolved, primitive animal male who views the female as his to take and do as he wishes. Why, I wonder, are majority of rapes by males? Where on earth would they get that idea from huh? Many people like to act like biology doesn’t play a role, but that’s pure naivety. Nature isn’t kind, nature has never been kind to females. Does that mean I’m saying “oh well if it’s biology then they can’t control it”? No, because they are humans, they damn well know the harm and consequences it causes and yet they still revert back to the primitive biological thinking of seeing a female as theirs to use and abuse. Rape by males against females is not inherently the same as other forms of rape.

[christinafaaaye]

i know i already made a post about people asking if dan and phil are "dating", but i have more to add as to why that question is ridiculous lmao. it's nothing new and it's been said before by others, but i feel the need to reiterate just for fun. and also because im tired of people answering/denying that question by only referencing "Basically I'm Gay"

- they built and designed a house together and share a mortgage. but also, they've been living together for 13 or 14 years.

- they only go on vacations together and if there are other people, those people are couples or phil's family. same thing when they hang out with friends. those friends are also couples.

- during the hiatus (the time where they were "done" being a youtube duo), they were still together and had already designed their forever home during that process. this one's obvious, but like, considering they told us that Interactive Introverts was intended to be "the end" of dan and phil, that never meant the end of them. no matter what, those two were gonna be together.

i could honestly go on for days about them and their insanely complex and intertwined relationship. it'll forever amaze me how much those two love each other. and it astounds me that a relationship as deep and beautiful as theirs is somehow wrapped up into the most basic fucking question "are they dating?" it's almost insulting lol

and listen, im always open minded to the possibility that i could be wrong about this, but when you see all these context clues they've given us over the years, it just doesn't make any sense to me that they'd only be friends.

literally no matter how you look at it, they are committed to each other in every way you can imagine and that is a fact. there's truly no need for them to officially and explicitly confirm or define what they are. we know and they know we know. and what they've built together over the past 15 years is truly beyond what any of us can comprehend. ❤️

[accio-victuuri]

i’m seeing some hot takes again of how xz’s team are ordering cpfs to go on wyb events and make trouble. making it seem like we don’t go on xz events, and if we do, we are in red. cause ya know, we are shrimps lol.

again. another toxic solo narrative. because, did anyone miss this part at the start of his set?

he was waving to the audience and the camera panned to red and a huge yellow sign. 🟡🟡🟡

also see the green/red/yellow? i’m just not sure how attendance is granted at this event. it’s not a fan-meet or concert where you can pay so people can go by groups. but you can see it. turtles are there. as they should. not to mention the many fan sites who attended.

we celebrate both of them. a very basic concept of stanning two people that so/os cannot comprehend. i swear. it’s so hilarious seeing them be angry at someone who went to see wyb in Milan but was wearing a red rope bracelet. saying that this cpf is clearly a shrimp. lol. dude. it’s a given. remember when you can easily spot a cpf cause they got the red bracelet and has a white nike bag? so yeah. it’s so bizarre how they obsess and keep a tally of who is this cpf’s true bias based on what they post and do. I thought we are the clowns— i guess not. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[bidisasterevankinard]

so hard to choose from all these wips but pls gimme some of:

🔄🔄🔄

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

📝📝📝📝📝

👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳👨‍🍳

yeah months after but I finally got toanswer it (I'm sorry <333)

9 from 7x4 reverse with Sal:

“So, how was football?” Tommy aims for feigned disinterest, missing some lightness in tone for it to be believable, but Sal just drugs and smiles.

“It was fine. Kid got us good tickets. And it was cool to watch the game with someone who doesn’t moan every second about how bored he is.”

“Hey, I don’t moan!”

“Yeah, you're right. You whine like a baby who wants cuddles from their mama.”

“I don’t whine,” whines Tommy and on Sal’s smirk and a raised eyebrow answers with silence, changing the tactic.

9+ for break up and make up after 7s au:

“And then Sal …” when Evan says the name it’s like the lever inside his mind is yanked down and his brain is off. Evan’s voice is around him but he hears nothing. It’s like the headphones are put on him and he can make some outside noise, but not enough to actually comprehend anything. He just sits there, passing his food, not in the mood to eat. His stomach feels too easy to make sick.

“..my! Tommy!” the louder when before voice and the touch of his shoulder makes him jump in his seat and Evan takes his hand away. “Sorry, you just weren't answering me and I asked if you wanted to come to my place or you wanted me to come to yours as you seem pretty tired,” Evan smirks, but his usual playfulness and Tommy tries to answer but big blue eyes go sadder.

He guesses he didn’t fool Evan.

“Sorry, Evan, I’m really tired and have a headache. Want to be alone. If it’s ok?”

15 for Justin knows best:

“From what I saw he was,” Mr. Russo’s voice answers, “he was almost eye fucking you during renovations.”

“I’m sure he did it not to me, but to Eddie. Or should I remind you that it’s him he took to Vegas and I’ve got only one Harbor tour that I asked about.”

Justin nods to sadness in Mr.B voice feeling the anger on his uncle and Mr.Diaz getting higher. They broke his perfect plan and made Mr. B sad.

“First, Eddie was on the other side of the room and those big blue eyes were still taking off your tank top and shorts. Second, I remember about Vegas. You were mopping about it a lot recently,” Mr. Russo listed. “Maybe it was just a friendly fly? I mean they watched a fight together. If you ask me I’d fight a guy who takes me to a fight as a first date because I hate it. And you too.”

“Yeah, I thought it too,” Mr. says and then he somehow gets sadder, “but it wasn’t only Vegas. They also worked over Eddie’s Chavele. And yesterday they went to Karaoke trivia together. And Eddie asked me to babysit,” Mr. B whines the last sentence and Justin sees red. 

and 15 for second part on I wanna dance with you universe

“What is it?” Evan asks and Tommy shrugs, giving him a playful look, and waits for him to open the box, loving the laugh Evan makes when he reads the custom inscription.

Still laughing, Evan takes the bright pink apron out and turns it so that Tommy can read it, bold black lettering makes him smirk again.

He’s my favorite housewife

“So you want me as your housewife?” Evan asks.

“Do you like it,” Tommy ignores the question.

“I like the color and the title but only if it’s a joke. Because if it’s not, it's like a huge red flag and I’m gonna run from here right now.”

Tommy hugs the perfect waist, kissing the neck, loving the shiver that goes over Evan’s body, “just a joke, baby of course. And now as far as I remember,” Tommy nuzzles into Evan's neck, biting it, “I was promised that if I'll buy you apron you love, I can fuck you in it. Only in it,” Tommy whispers in Evan’s ear and  bites the skin right near it.

“I-I did say it, didn’t I?” Evan puts his hand in his hair pushing his head till their lips meet.

Using his body weight Tommy pushes his boyfriend till he’s near the counter and then sits him there, not breaking the kiss, with pleasure swallowing the moan Evan makes.

Ending the kiss Tommy gets back to working on Evan’s neck, while his boyfriend unbuttons his shirt.

[giddythekitty]

Let’s talk about scripting for a moment.

Disclaimer: I’m not telling you what to script, this is something genuinely important. Btw it’s important for baby shifters especially.

So, as a baby shifter, or even an experienced shifter, we all have our DRs. We all script for them, wether it’s mental, digital, written down, etc.

Sometimes we see a new show or read a new book and we want to shift there, right? We make a backstory, a personality, a faceclaim, powers, friendships, whatever you want in there.

And this is why you need to think, and I mean really think about what you script.

Let me give an example, bacause it’s important to visualize and ask yourself if you want it:

I’ve deleted like 10 of my scripts and modified a few others for one simple reason—projection. And it wasn’t because I was bored or because I didn’t like them, it’s because I either didn’t actually want them, I made them too traumatizing, and/or wrote down my issues and view on this reality as a script.

Let’s go with something simple: wings and flight. And think about it really well. Did you get those wings or were you born with them? Did you learn how to fly, did you already know, or do you still don’t know how to fly and are yet to learn?

If you answer with “still dont know how to fly and are yet to learn”, let’s expand on that(even if you didn’t, please keep reading because it’s relevant).

Say this is the first one with wings and you genuinely want to learn. After that you can have other drs where you have wings and you’ll be fine, right? You learned it, so you know it. But if this is a reoccurring pattern, and you are still yet to fly in two or more drs, then it might just be how you feel. Trapped. After all, the saying goes “a flightless bird is a dead bird” or maybe “a flightless dragon is a dead dragon”. You might be feeling like you have no way out of this reality, like you’ll never shift, and so on.

So how do we fix that? Words of affirmation.

They are important for a reason. Remember, your 4D matters more than the 3D because your subconscious can’t feel or see or hear the same as you do. If you say you’re pretty, then you’re gorgeous or handsome or whatever is inbetween. If you say you can shift, you can shift. And the longer you repeat that to yourself, wether written down, said out loud or even in front of a mirror, your mindset will change. “Gaslight yourself till you believe it”, “It’s the law of assumption” they are all the same.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are the god of your own reality. What you say is true matters more than what others say. Your word is final, and no one will ever change that.

I have yet to see people adress this kind of important information about shifting, and I decided to do it myself.

Remember, shifting is a path of self-discovery. It takes your hand and gets you back on your feet, it gets you away from the edge of depression or anything else that’s negative or even self destructive. It gets you your confidence back, it boosts your self-esteem, because you are the key to your reality. Not dr, not cr, nor wr. Your reality. Your truth.

I am begging you, keep going. Don’t give up. Do not give up. Shifting came to you for a reason, and you are special. Not everyone can comprehend the reality of just how powerful they are, and here you are. And no matter how hard your life is, how hard you work to open your eyes there, I am proud of you. You deserve so much, and this reality has done you no justice. “If you want it done right, do it yourself”. So be your own savior, because you deserve to be happy.

Happy shifting

[ween-kitchens]

meet me halfway

3511 words

mumbo stares at the retreating figure of grian like his life depends on it, head spinning with far, far too many thoughts to even begin to comprehend what on earth just happened. he doesn't have nearly enough brainpower for this- if mumbo was an engine, he'd be rattling and shooting out sparks at an alarming rate. honestly, he’s quite surprised he hasn't exploded yet. goodness. okay- god, no, there's no way that can actually have just happened. no way- that was just something mumbo hallucinated. grian can’t have just- there's no possible way. mumbo's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breathing is practically hyperventilation, but it was- it can’t have been real, because if it was real then grian just-

honestly I just really wanted to write an 'oh' moment and I haven't written grumbo in a while, so here we are

tumblr formatting is being weird so if you see any mistakes, no you don't <3

mumbo stares at the retreating figure of grian like his life depends on it, head spinning with far, far too many thoughts to even begin to comprehend what on earth just happened. he doesn't have nearly enough brainpower for this- if mumbo was an engine, he'd be rattling and shooting out sparks at an alarming rate. honestly, he’s quite surprised he hasn't exploded yet.

goodness. okay- god, no, there's no way that can actually have just happened. no way- that was just something mumbo hallucinated. grian can’t have just- there's no possible way. mumbo's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breathing is practically hyperventilation, but it was- it can’t have been real, because if it was real then grian just-

grian just kissed him. and mumbo kissed back, and- and he liked it, and now he wants more, and he might just have a name for that nagging warmth that has followed grian's laughs and his smiles and when his hand would brush mumbo's, and that's just- it's bizarre. but it's so incredible, and it's so awful, and there's no possible way he can deny it anymore- and oh, god there's no possible way he can deny it anymore- 

because mumbo might just be in love with grian. that- grian just kissed him, and now he knows- he knows the way it feels to have grian's hand against his waist, and he knows how grian's lips feel against his own, and he can never stop knowing- and there's no way mumbo can ever stop thinking about it, and oh god is he cursed to forever sit useless and lovestruck on this beach and watch as grian walks away whilst knowing all of that?

and grian doesn't know. grian doesn't know that mumbo has spent nights upon nights thinking of his face and wondering what it means, and he doesn’t know that mumbo replays the moment of every time he made him laugh in his mind on a loop, and he doesn’t know that mumbo is staring at the blurry outline of him and wishing desperately that sand was easier to run on so he could grab his hand and tell him it all. never in his life has anyone fit so perfectly by mumbo's side, and grian doesn’t even know-

okay. he should- he should probably take a second. wow- okay. gosh.

almost absentmindedly, mumbo rubs a thumb across his bottom lip, half imagining what it would be like if it were grian's thumb. oh- and now he’s flustered again. you know- he should really have taken tango's advice when he got it: don’t hang out with pretty men, you’ll fall for them way too quickly. and mumbo thought he was just being hyperbolic- what a fool he was! god- no wonder jimmy and tango are such idiots- they've been dealing with this the whole time!

and- oh goodness, grian just kissed him! he just- it's like a romance novel, and now mumbo is losing his mind in a completely different way, because- well, grian kissed him! he did the thing where- he pulled mumbo in by the collar of his shirt, and he kissed him, and- oh gosh, he’s going bright red again. this is so embarrassing.

mumbo pushes himself off the ground (and that's even more embarrassing- he fell to the floor when his crush kissed him. gosh.), fully prepared to be the worst possible cliche and run after grian, when the man in question looks over his shoulder. and something in mumbo's brain combusts when he realises that grian is coming back.

y’know what- he was wrong; this is the most cliche he’s ever going to get. grian is running towards him, and mumbo is running too, and he can just imagine the stupid slow-mo cinematic shot that the two of them are creating right now, and he doesn’t care, because all that matters is that he reaches grian. because he’s in love! mumbo is in love with grian, and- gosh, how crazy is that?

grian is barely a few metres away, and all mumbo can think about is that kiss. so when mumbo glances briefly (so briefly! barely even a second of glance!) at grian's lips, his already fried brain finally explodes, and all of a sudden mumbo is face-down in the sand. grian is laughing at him, and that's only making it worse, because now he’s both embarrassed and enormously endeared, because- wow, he really does love grian's laugh.

when mumbo looks up, brushing the sand out of his moustache, grian is knelt in front of him with that life-ruiningly fond grin on his face, and mumbo is going to explode again. "i’m- I shouldn’t have ran. i'm sorry- I didn’t even-"

"shut up for one second." mumbo says, out of breath, pushing himself up so he’s face to face with grian. 

their eyes meet, and it's as if the whole world goes silent as mumbo raises a hand to cup his face. grian is staring at him with that indecipherable expression, but when mumbo begins to pull away, he presses his hand against mumbo's, keeping it in place. it's so- it's all utterly bizarre, and in the best way possible, because mumbo is tracing grian's cheekbones with his thumbs, and grian is staring at him with nothing short of adoration, and mumbo might just be losing his whole mind because-

"I love you." mumbo breathes, watching the way grian's eyes widen with such interest. "I can't- I never even considered something like this could ever happen- I was so confused!" he laughs. "I had no idea- and then you kissed me and I- I still can't believe that, honestly. you! you’re so beautiful- and you kissed me!"

grian is laughing too, and he’s blushing- and oh goodness, mumbo made him blush, how incredible is that? "i've- you know, i’ve been lamenting to tango a little bit-" mumbo gasps in mock outrage. "i- no actually, i’m allowed, you’re an idiot. anyway, we agreed- you’re just as bad as jimmy."

"what? I can't be that bad!" mumbo exclaims, but in all honesty, he can’t help but agree a little. it- he may or may not have gotten distracted staring at grian's lips midway through his sentence; he’s a complete idiot—especially if grian is with him. 

"I- mumbo." grian says, surprisingly breathless, and mumbo looks up to see him flushed pink. oh. oh- was that- is that because of him? "you can't just- oh my god."

"you- I blame you for this!" mumbo feels his own face growing hot, stomach fluttering. "I wouldn’t have known if you hadn't kissed me!"

grian lifts a hand to mumbo's cheek, and mumbo's engine of a brain is shooting sparks once again. "how could i not?" he says, almost to himself as he rubs his thumb against mumbo's lips, who might actually explode this time. 

"grian," mumbo's voice is barely a whisper, and it occurs to him that they must have started leaning in at some point, because their faces are so much closer than they were a moment ago. 

apparently distracted by mumbo's lips (which- wow. that's- that is happening. okay), grian gives a little hum of answer.

"can-" mumbo puts a hand on grian's, and he looks up. there's a look that flashes across grian's face when their eyes meet, and it's almost smug—as if he knows just how much fire mumbo's brain is on right now. "can you kiss me?"

grian's lips twitch into a half smile, and he tilts his head, leaning in until their noses barely brush. "gladly." his breath ghosts mumbo's face, but before he has time to even process this, the gap between them is closed.

somehow, it's even better the second time. grian's hand is cupping his cheek, the other gravitating towards his waist, and it's all mumbo can do not to explode as he leans into grian. it's honestly unbelievable- mumbo wonders, as grian's hand rubs gently against his waist, if this is all just an incredible dream. this theory is quickly wiped from his mind, along with any other hint of rational thought, as grian begins to run his hand through mumbo's hair. y’know- if this is a dream, mumbo would rather not wake up.

after what feels like a lifetime—and yet far, far too soon—the two of them are forced to pull away for air. mumbo is grinning like an idiot, and grian is flushed pink but smiling just as much, and they just kissed! again!

"so- um. what- are we-" mumbo seems to have forgotten the english language mid-kiss. which- okay, that's embarrassing. he thought that was just something people made up for romances. "would you consider us to be- um. what- what would you-"

grian presses a kiss against mumbo's lips, very effectively shutting him up long enough to say, "I would like to be your partner. if- if you also would like that." 

for a moment, it's all mumbo can do to nod enthusiastically, and grian (being the incredibly rude man he is) cackles at him. "I- I would definitely like that." mumbo manages, smiling shyly.

"good." grian says, and mumbo can just tell he’s trying to sound calmer than he is. it's cute. mumbo wants to poke it. "because- I mean, it's not like you had much of a choice. you’re mine now- it's not really optional."

mumbo tilts grian's chin upward and kisses his lips, grinning as grian blinks in flustered surprise. "i’m not mad about that."

never has mumbo ever seen someone look so pleased and so indignant at the same time before. "you- you did that on purpose!"

mumbo laughs, and grian can't keep up the silly pout he was attempting. "of course I did! you kissed me- out of nowhere, and left me alone!"

"oh I see," grian says, clearly trying to stay annoyed, but he can’t stop giggling to himself. "this is revenge."

mumbo kisses grian's nose, watching with glee as grian turns even pinker. "of course not." he says unconvincingly.

"oh my god- mumbo!" grian buries his face in his hands, and mumbo cackles. 

"okay- i'll stop! i’m stopping, i’m stopping." mumbo grins, and- okay, maybe he just wants to see grian's face again. what, are you gonna sue him? you- please don't, actually. "i’m sorry- I apologise."

grian moves his hands away from his face, giving mumbo a suspicious look. wow- he really does know him, doesn’t he? "I don’t trust that voice." he jabs at mumbo's chest, grinning a little.

embarrassingly, mumbo feels himself turn pink. "I- well, is- would it be weird if I said I just wanted to look at you?" 

within an instant, grian turns more red than mumbo has ever seen him—apparently speechless, because all he does is stare as mumbo starts to laugh at his expression.

"it's just-" mumbo raises a hand to stroke grian's cheek, watching with delight as grian melts into the touch. "you’re just so beautiful." he murmurs, beginning to trace the outline of his jaw with the tips of his fingers. mumbo reaches his chin, and tilts it upward ever so slightly. "I can't believe I never.." he trails off, distracted by how soft grian's lips feel against his fingers.

grian looks like he could very well melt into a puddle; voice slightly raspy when he says, "mumbo, you- you’re killing me here."

mumbo grins, stomach fluttering at the fact that he flustered grian. "I did say it was revenge." he leans in ever so slightly, glancing very intentionally at grian's lips before pulling his gaze away. honestly, it's a marvel to see grian so shy- usually that's mumbo. "I just.." his smugness softens into something far more affectionate than he would ever admit again. "I love you."

"if- if you don't kiss me in the next five seconds," grian starts, entirely out of breath and positively beetroot-coloured. "i’m actually going to die, and it will weigh on your conscious forever."

mumbo tilts grian's face upwards ever so slightly, and- okay, maybe he’s taking a little longer to do this than he otherwise would. it's- in his defence, grian's reactions are just too incredible to let slip by; mumbo can’t just miss them. "well, since you asked so nicely." he teases, pausing just long enough to watch grian's expression shift to something simultaneously flustered and exasperated before he leans in. 

grian kisses him with the air of someone who has seconds left to live, and mumbo can’t help but melt into him as grian presses closer—nails digging bluntly into the fabric of his jeans. it's all mumbo can do to kiss back, brain turning to mush at the insane reality that grian is kissing him- and that he’s kissing him because he loves him. it's all- there's no possible way that mumbo is coming out of this with his sanity still intact.

all too soon, grian pulls back, and mumbo makes an embarrassing noise of complaint. their faces are so close, mumbo can feel grian's breath on his cheeks. he might just explode. "just- just to clarify," grian pants, and- wow. okay, that- wow. "is there anything you- you don't want me to do?"

"not- not in the slightest." mumbo breathes, and his voice sounds almost desperate. grian, apparently, seems to find this fact intoxicating rather than embarrassing. "maybe- i’d prefer you not to stop."

at that, grian presses a kiss to the corner of mumbo's mouth, smirking mischievously. "i’d never dream of it, mumbo." he whispers. oh, gosh.

within moments, they are kissing again, and mumbo sinks into it without a second thought—quite frankly, if he could make this last for all eternity, he would. grian must be noticing the way mumbo relishes his softness, because he has begun to cup his face, rubbing a thumb across mumbo's cheek. mumbo, of course, is finding it very difficult to think about anything other than that gentle touch through the haze of quiet breathing and comforting embraces, but- well, he can’t just let grian do all the work, can he? that- that would be rude.

grian makes a little noise of surprise as mumbo slips his hand into his hair, scratching gently at the nape of his neck, but within seconds, mumbo feels grian begin to melt against him. he has to admit- it's pretty cute—especially when grian pulls barely back to mumble, "is- is this revenge?"

mumbo can’t help but giggle at how red grian is, coupled with how pleased he is with- everything that's happening right now. "I- it wasn't my intention, but- y’know, it could be."

grian practically pouts, and mumbo is laughing even more now- which he doesn’t think was the intention behind that. "you’re so mean to me, mumbo."

"I- well, you- you were being so nice to me," mumbo says, feeling his face begin to warm as he watches grian realise what he means with delight. "I had to return the favour."

grian is grinning now, pout entirely forgotten in lieu of making fun of mumbo. "oh, mumbo-"

mumbo claps a hand over grian's mouth, enormously embarrassed by it all. grian continues to grin, but the fondness in his eyes betrays his true feelings. "that- we don't need to discuss it, actually. we can just- we can let the moment pass."

"i’m making a note of this in my mind." grian says. well- mumbo is pretty sure that's what he said, after all, his voice is muffled by mumbo's hand. "but- okay-" the look in his eye makes mumbo expect to be licked, and he moves his hand very quickly away. "hey!"

"you were gonna lick me." mumbo says, grinning at grian's offence. "weren't you?"

grian makes a sulky face, which is- far too pretty for his own good. "I was gonna kiss you." mumbo laughs, and grian's sulk drops almost immediately. which- frankly, the mischievous grin that replaces it should not be nearly as endearing as it is. "I wanted to watch your reaction—they're always cute." 

mumbo barely has time to give a flustered huff of a laugh before grian is following up with, "but I was going to say, I have been paying attention." he says, and mumbo finds himself reeling.

"you- I hadn't even- oh my goodness." mumbo scrambles desperately to locate wherever his brain has ended up, because it's very obvious that it has completely abandoned him by now. "you- you actually thought about- gosh." he buries his face in his hands, and grian cackles.

"well, I just- you always liked it when I held your hand." grian is saying, and his grin is so abundantly obvious in his voice alone- he’s so audibly pleased with himself for getting it right. "and tango- I mean. I won't pretend we didn't talk-"

mumbo looks up so fast, he may have almost given himself whiplash. "what did tango tell you?" he says, pointedly ignoring how funny grian seems to be finding this whole conversation.

grian is still laughing when he finally answers, "well, he- he may have hinted a couple things. I didn’t know you guys used to date." he takes mumbo's hand and raises it to his lips. "he mentioned on the off-chance it'd be relevant.." grian presses a kiss against mumbo's knuckles, and oh he’s just so smugabout it that mumbo could melt.

"I- I can't believe this." mumbo barely manages. he’s fairly certain his face is cosplaying a beetroot by now. "you two- oh my goodness. why- how would you even- when did that become a- a topic of discussion?" embarrassingly, it seems as if his voice has abandoned him, leaving mumbo stuck with squeaks.

grian blushes, and mumbo feels a little better about his own disastrous response. "I- okay, it- it's not like I talked about you all the time, but I- you came up.. a lot." 

mouth agape, it's all mumbo can do but stare for a long moment. grian, of course, finds this hilarious. "how would- I never even- are you kidding?"

"tango said you’d probably react like that." grian is grinning, and mumbo is going to dissolve. in a good way. 

"I- y’know, maybe I should start telling jimmy this kind of stuff about tango." mumbo is still embarrassingly breathless, and grian laughs. "see now he likes it."

grian leans forward and presses a soft kiss to mumbo's lips, eyes ridiculously fond. "I think he'd probably appreciate you helping him out." he grins. "how do you think I got the courage to kiss you?"

mumbo can’t help softening slightly. "well. maybe i'll forgive him." he jabs grian in the forehead, grinning as he squawks in protest. "once I forgive you for leaving me alone after you kissed me." he exclaims.

grian cackles. "I- look, okay, I was freaked out-"

"you were freaked out?!" mumbo half-yells, unable to keep from grinning along. "grian- you just- you kissed me, and then left! and then I had to realise that I was in love with you- and you left, so I couldn't even tell you-"

"I thought you were gonna hate me!" grian defends. "I couldn’t- but then I turned around and you were running, and immediately fell over-"

mumbo grins. "I just- I was thinking too much about you kissing me, and then I- I saw your lips, so-"

frankly, mumbo has never seen grian look so delighted in his life. "you fell over because you wanted to kiss me?!"

"I- well- kinda." mumbo says, heat rising in his face from both embarrassment and pleasure. "has that- is that just me?"

grian snorts, face reddening. "I- okay, I might- a week ago, I was. thinking about you a bit whilst me and jimmy were looking for crabs, and I wasn't- I forgot to pay attention, and I sorta. fell into the sea." 

mumbo laughs harder than he thinks he’s laughed in weeks, not even trying to regain his composure as grian cackles along. "oh- oh my gosh- grian!" he squawks, trying to catch his breath again. "what- what I wouldn't pay to watch that." he grins. "do I really have that much of an effect?"

"well," grian glances away, looking suddenly  embarrassed. "it's- you had that shirt, and you’d ditched your jacket 'cause it was hot, and- with the sleeves rolled up- it- uh. yeah." grian hides his face with his hand. "I got- I got distracted."

mumbo's face hurts from smiling so much, and he honestly doesn't care. "I- wow. I will be- i'll be making a note of that." he says, flattered.

grian looks back, grinning. "you’re gonna use this against me, aren't you?"

"who would I be if I didn't?" mumbo smiles, fonder than he meant to be.

grian leans forward and kisses mumbo, cupping his face as he does so. when he pulls back, mumbo finds himself chasing his lips—much to grian's amusement. grian tilts his head, smiling. "I love you."

mumbo turns his head to kiss grian's hand, stomach fluttering. "I love you too."

[spookybeandoodle]

Late night doodle/gift for myself on this late Christmas Day

I am tired

It is 3 am

Me sleep now

[daily-basil]

hes one of the girls

[azuresins]

The Phantomhive Ring Nonofficial merchandise, fanmade, custom. ·3D modeled in SolidWorks by @noirserviteur ·3D printed using resin, then cast in sterling silver ·Fitted with blue sapphire (+ diamond chips, soon)

[front-facing-pokemon]