#like can’t they do the same fucking thing for IPHONES?

[phail]

die after two years? My 2012 Mac book pro is still working and functioning nearly at 100% like it’s nearly new

Maybe get a second hand macbook

i absolutely would if i could but macbooks literally suck so much ass they can't run any software at all whatsoever and die after two years like it's so dire

[sunlightandprayers]

childhoodbsf!simon who eventually turns into fwb!simon and inevitably breaks your heart.

part two right here .ᐟ

warnings : angst(y), mentions of sex but not very detailed, written on iPhone and not proofread

──────────୨ৎ───────────

it happened so naturally.

ever since that blond-haired boy moved across the street from you, and helped you draw a princess maze with pink chalk on the asphalt of the quiet street.

ever since you’d giggled as he dragged you to the little forest at the back of your yard—offering you an entire-day adventure and granting him a respite from the smothering walls of his house.

ever since he’d decided to call you sunshine, because that’s simply what you were to him. his sacred light in the dark storm cloud of his childhood.

ever since then, simon riley had become your very best friend. platonic soulmates, you’d called it.

⸝⸝

it had stuck for a while.

until college and the military rolled around, and suddenly your eyes were yearning for him nearly as often as your fragile heart.

suddenly, it didn’t feel so platonic.

there was still this easiness, that was undeniable—you still trudged into the tattoo shop with him every other month or sometimes week, watching as the needle danced across his thick biceps the same way your fingers longed to.

you still let your head loll on simon’s lap as he forced yet another painfully boring movie on you.

he still pushed your thighs apart and muffled his face in your tummy when you rioted and a romcom ended up playing on his obnoxiously big flat screen.

the same boy from your childhood grunted if your fingers weren’t carding through his dirty-blond locks within the minute.

⸝⸝

and then one day, somehow, after yet another failed date—because all those boys were lacking something, some spark—you found yourself at his flat.

he’d opened the door, clad in just boxers and the gray, army-issued t-shirt with his last name plastered on the back. it made that familiar sizzle run up the length of your spine before tingling at the back of your skull like a firework.

he’d hugged you like he’d done a million times before.

had stroked the length of your hair, the way you liked.

had talked to you softly, the way you needed.

had kissed your temple, the way you craved.

it had happened naturally then too. the push up to your tiptoes and the search of your doe eyes with his whiskey ones. your own were pleading, that much you knew. his thumb had grazed your cheekbone tenderly, prompting a chain reaction that inevitably ended in a tangle of limbs and messy navy sheets.

after that initial detonation, it had happened again and again and again—though it was all as friends. a good arrangement really, if one wasn’t in love with the man who fucked them on the regular.

which you were currently admitting to yourself, while simon—your simon—was buried deep inside you. deeper than anyone else ever had or ever could. deeper than just physical.

“si- look at me.”

it was a futile ask. you knew it all too well. those whiskey eyes never met yours when he was taking you.

“hm. can’t pretty girl. y’feel too fuckin’ good, sunshine,” he grunted.

it was half a lie. because while you did feel like heaven clutching him, that wasn’t fully why he could never meet your glazed doe eyes.

the truth was lodged somewhere deep between his ribs, in that sensitive spot where he kept very few things—like his mom, his baby brother, and you.

and if he met your eyes when he was deep inside your velvet heat, not only would he finish too early, but he’d want to keep you forever. which is something he refused to do.

even if it broke his heart when—after you’d both reached your peaks in a slow, deep, long orgasm—your nimble fingers curled around his dog tags. so goddamn reverent, that touch of yours. it undid him.

your manicured thumb brushed the indentation of his name in the metal plate, and those three little words slipped out of you like you’d always said them with this much meaning. they’d grown too heavy, too real for your body to be able to hold them back anymore. it was the softest, most honest i love you you’d ever said.

simon had frozen, spine rigid even if he’d known—he’d known it was coming.

so when he’d bent down, gently sliding out of you as he pressed his shaking lips to your forehead, tears fell quietly from the corners of your eyes. the same ones he’d lifted so often before, whether it be with a stupid joke or a smug smirk.

you knew too, right then, that he wouldn’t say it back.

that this was the last time. that this was the most you’d get from him.

a single hiccup wracked your throat, which simon eased the only way he knew how—with a familiar, smoothing hand over your hair. he rolled off his bed shortly after, his rippling back to you as he walked into his en suite bathroom.

when he came back out, minutes or hours later he wasn’t sure, with his bare feet dragging across the cold tiles, you were gone.

prompted by sheer agony, simon had almost laughed.

because even if you’d left, you were still everywhere.

his pillows smelled of those expensive shampoo and conditioner you loved, the ones that made your hair all soft and silky. his sheets smelled of vanilla and coconut, same as his cotton t-shirts, which you’d been borrowing since your teenage years.

hell, even his ribs throbbed. right where the fine-line sunshine was inked permanently.

the worst is that he was okay with it. the ache. the pain. it was familiar. bitterly comfortable.

a part of him had always known—even when he’d picked up that pink chalk more than a decade ago—that the sweet girl across the street would haunt him forever.

but he’d suffer your absence a thousand lifetimes over, as long as it meant the ghosts of his own demons could never reach you. could never snuff out that golden light he’d fallen irrevocably in love with.

because that instinct—to protect his sunny girl no matter the cost—had always happened so naturally.

──────────୨ৎ───────────

ᝰ.ᐟ author’s note

hii! okay so this is my first simon riley drabble (and my first ever published piece really lol), so if it sucks please bear with me :*)

idk if this is anything—but i had a 3 hour road trip, 5 hours of sleep, and this wouldn’t leave my head so here it is!

[tittiesnhrtz]

hi hiiii idk if you’re still doing reqs 😭 if sooooo can you write ab eating ellie out while she’s on the phone 😞🙏

my apologies if this doesn't hit 😻

warnings: oral, public sex

ellie was on her iphone ten again, the poor thing adorned with spiderweb like patterns, having endured more tough days then you’ve ever seen. the light bouncing from it illuminated her face, highlighting the freckles dotted across her cheeks like the cherry blossoms scattered on the streets of the foreign city you both were meandering through.

this was supposed to be a family trip but of course your parents had to wind up in a work related meeting, leaving you with unused plane tickets and hotel reservations. you couldn’t let their money go to waste, so you asked your girlfriend to tag along. if you knew she’d be on that device ever since you both arrived this morning, you’d have cancelled the trip altogether. “just tendin to a niche game, babe. give me ten minutes.” ten minutes stretched into an excruciating five hours and thirty four minutes. not that you were keeping track. not that you were borderline desperate for her attention. not at all.

you cling onto her like a koala, encircling your arms around her torso, seeking for any sort of attention she can offer, even if it’s something as meagre as the faint sound of her heartbeat responding to your touch. “ellie.” you whine out her name, a pout painting itself on your face. in any other situation, she’d be a horny mess, yearning for more of those pretty sounds falling off your lips, but there was a seasonal event going on and she needed to collect all the weapons. “yeah?” she looks up for three milliseconds, “i’m kinda hungry, let’s go eat.” she intertwines your hand with her calloused one, the coldness radiating from her skin blending with your warmth, making you satisfied for now.

“whaddya wanna eat?” your eyes dart around at the cafés and restaurants passing by, lingering on a certain cat themed cafe. “ellie, look.” you beam, nudging her to shift her gaze at the cafe. “eh.” is all that leaves her mouth. “but you love cats.” your eyebrows furrow. “cause you love em.” you know that’s not true. she’d literally adopted a cat with sleek ginger fur from a sordid alleyway even though you’d warned her about the diseases it could carry. she ended up naming him ‘bricked up monstertruck pussy’ or ‘bump’ when she got tired of calling him by his full name. just when your mouth parts open to speak again, she pockets her phone with her other hand, her thumb caressing the back of your hand. fucking finally. you almost break out into a wide grin, biting on your lip to conceal the desperation that previously resided in you.

“babe, we have to go there.” she starts leading you to a sci-fi cafe, her battered converse moving with enthusiasm. a sound mimicking an airlock opening echoes when ellie steps inside with you in tow. “that’s so cool.” she giggles. the cafe is dimly lit with metallic blue lights, the high ceiling painted with an array of alien stars and galaxies. you slip into a booth at the far end, taking a seat opposite of ellie.

the waiter takes your orders; ellie gets a drink with syllables you can’t even decipher and a burger. you decide on a strawberry milkshake, something basic, and the same burger she chose. “that’s so you.” her face splits into a lopsided grin. “what does that mean?” you play with your bracelet, relishing the feeling of her eyes on you. “dunno…like, you’re sweet..like strawberries.” a smile lingers on your lips, nearly making you forget how she’d been technically ignoring you, until you hear the faint buzz of her phone— a fatuous theme song from a movie blaring as her ringtone.

she has the audacity to hum to the rhythm before picking it up to answer jesse. she rambles on about how she’d managed to beat six levels in just twenty minutes, an obvious lie. you know better, you’d been the one suffering all day. five minutes slip by, fleeting like the rocket in the hologram video flickering on the wall. you’ve had enough, you decide.

you sneak under the table, the tablecloth shiny with neon green glitter concealing you almost completely. she’s manspreading on the couch, giving you easy access to settle between her legs. she doesn’t notice you’ve moved until she feels two hands resting on both of her thighs. you let out a small giggle as she looks down at your head peering through the tablecloth, surprise etching on her face. her breath hitches at the sensation of your cheek resting against her thigh, the rasp of denim against flesh. she secures your chin in the palm of her calloused hand to make you look up at her dilated pupils, green eyes taking on an inky darkness. it feels sinful to be looking at you in this angle. even in the dim light, she can make out your doe eyed expression, and her boxers suddenly feel uncomfortable.

jesse’s voice fades away into the background, his words ringing through the other line but not quite making it into her ear. swiftly, you unbuckle her belt and tug on her jeans, the denim whispering down her thighs. you don’t care that you’re in public, the lighting, the very few people and the fact that you’re in the far end of the cafe should obscure whatever you’re about to do. her grasp on your chin releases and her fingers tangle in your locks as she leans back against the couch. with bated breath, she watches your head settle in between her thighs, stifling a moan when you kitten lick at the damp cotton. her hand clenches at your roots, “atta girl.” she mumbles incoherently.

“el, you there?” you pull back, hearing the faint sound of jesse’s voice. you pat her thigh, “answer him.” your fingers hook into the waistband of her boxers, pulling them down to join her jeans. the cool air dances along her warm exposed skin, as the plush of your lips pucker around her throbbing, swollen clit.

“mngh..y-yeah, yeah.” she grunts, pushing your face further, making you bask in her nectar. your fingers glide against her thighs languidly, as your whimpers get muffled against her core. this feels like an atonement of some sort, the attention you’ve been craving so badly, now all yours. you look up at her through your eyelashes, taking in how she’s biting on the palm of the hand that’s holding her phone to hold back the noises threatening to cascade.

“uhm, ellie..you okay?” she barely registers his confused voice over the feeling of your tongue sliding up and down her folds, making her eyes flutter shut. her juices flow down your chin and onto the leather couch below, as you close your eyes too, messily swirling your tongue in circles around her clit now. jesse repeats his question and she brings the phone closer to her again, “dude, i’ll call you lat- fuck.” her words get cut off by a moan at the sudden intrusion of your warm muscle thrusting inside her weeping cunt.

the phone falls from her grasp, landing somewhere on the ground with a soft thud, probably adding a new crack amongst the ones already marring the screen. she doesn’t even care, her mind clouded with pure bliss. both of her hands card through your hair, feeling the softness of it against her roughness. her forehead rests against the table, back hunching as she quietly whimpers, her thighs closing around your head. the moan you let out reverberates through her body, teetering her to the edge. you spread her pussy lips wider with your fingers, gliding your tongue up and down again.

“gonna…fuck..i’m gonna..” she mumbles against the fabric of the tablecloth, tugging on your hair gently. one of her hand moves to rest on the nape of your neck when she comes, seeing the whole of orion belt as her eyes roll to the back of her head. she lets out a throaty breath as she no longer feels your mouth on her core. lifting her head up from the table, she pulls her boxers up the first thing. she tilts your head up and lets out a moan at the sight of your chin glistening with her juices, not even bothering to lower her voice. the pad of her thumb runs along your slightly parted lips before lingering on the bottom one. she leans down to plant a velvety kiss on your forehead, clamping your cheeks together. “you’re so fucking paying for this when we get back to the hotel room.”

[goldfades]

YOUR BEST FAN !!! ── NICHOLAS CHAVEZ

─ summary | only fans creator with nick, what could possibly happen? ─ warnings | NSFW under the cut. oral (m. receiving), heavy praise, really rough, there's a camera involved (i think i have a thing for cameras ngl), pretty much face-fucking

─ ev's notes ! | i wanna make this a series sooooo bad omfg. also!! I AM NOT TRYING TO GLORIFY OF OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT, pls this is just fictional

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine

When you began dating Nick, you had just began your “business.” You honestly didn’t think much of it at the time—just a little side hustle to pay the your student loans and to have some extra cash for things that you liked. It wasn’t supposed to get this serious, and neither was he.

Nick was different from the start, though. Kind, caring, and completely unaware of the other side of your life. You liked it that way, at first. It was easier to keep things separate, to pretend like this secret world didn’t have to collide with his.

However, when you had realized you'd have to tell him before someone else did, it was too late. Nick had already found your secret Twitter account. You saw it in his eyes the moment he walked through the door—he knew. He didn’t have to say anything for you to feel the dread bubbling in your chest, the panic rising as you mentally prepared for the inevitable conversation.

The worst part? He recognized everything—the background, the subtle details of your room, and, of course, those familiar, sweet sounds you made when you thought no one was listening.

When he brought it up, his voice was calm but direct. “So... I found something interesting today.”

Your heart stopped. There it was. The moment you’d feared. You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to do anything that might save this, but no words came out. You were certain he’d break up with you on the spot.

“Are you... mad?” You spoke, your voice shaky as you looked up at him. There was shame in your expression, and a little bit of anxiety, you couldn't believe he'd found it.

You thought it was done, over. Until Nick’s lips curved into a smug grin, one that caught you completely off guard.

“Mad?” Nick repeated, shaking his head as he kneeled in front of you. “No, baby. No, not at all.”

You blinked in disbelief, searching his face for any sign of anger or disappointment, but all you found was that same possessive glint in his eyes, the one that sent a thrill down your spine. He was calm, way too calm, and that only made your heart race faster.

“If anything,” Nick continued, his voice low and steady, “I think it’s kinda hot. Knowing they can all watch, but they can’t touch. Not like I do.” His hand slid up your thigh, making your breath hitch. “They can’t make you feel the way I do.”

You swallowed hard, still trying to process what was happening. This wasn’t the reaction you expected at all. In fact, it almost felt like he enjoyed the power of it, the idea that while others watched from a distance, he was the only one who truly knew you, who had you.

The iPhone flash was bright as you blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden light. You were in the car with Nick, driving home from a date night when he suggested the idea. “What if I joined you, in one of the videos?”

That was you ended up in the backseat, in between Nick's legs. The car was parked in an empty parking lot, and you really hoped that nobody was around. However, the thought of getting caught sent a nervous thrill down your spine.

“Look at me,” he instructed, his voice firm but laced with that same cocky confidence from earlier. The phone in his hand hovered just above your head, framing you perfectly in the shot.

Your heart raced as you met his eyes, a mix of nervous energy and excitement coursing through you. He had a way of making you feel completely exposed, and not just physically. This wasn’t like your usual videos—it was different. There was something about him behind the camera that made it feel so much more intimate.

“That’s it,” Nick murmured, shifting the angle slightly as his eyes flickered between the screen and you. “You look so good like this, baby. Don’t be shy.”

God, your pussy was soaked already. You couldn't help but let out a small moan as your hands reached up toward his thighs, gripping them tightly as your lips curved into a smile.

His thighs tensed under your grip as you leaned back against him, your body instinctively seeking the comfort of his touch. The intimacy of the moment—his presence, the weight of his gaze, the phone capturing everything—felt so much deeper than any other time you’d recorded.

You pulled down his shorts and boxers easily, and you heard him let out a satisfactory moan. You blinked up at the camera again, the smile still evident in your soft features. His cock was in frame now, it was mouth-watering to look at; his tip was leaking with pre-cum, the color was a deep shade of red.

Nick’s free hand found its way to your heads, his fingers curling into your hair, sending a shiver through you. “That’s my girl,” he praised softly, his voice a mix of admiration and possessiveness. “Go ahead, baby. Don't get all shy now,” he let out a dark chuckle as he pushed your head further down.

The feeling of his tip brushing against your lips made your stomach squeeze in anticipation. You opened your mouth, humming at the familiar taste of him as you blinked up at the camera. You could feel the heat pool between your legs as you took more of him in your mouth, his head falling back as he let out a sharp grunt.

The grip he had in your hair tightened as he pulled your head up and down, just how he liked it. You let out broken moans, muffled by his cock as your gripped his thighs. Your eyes were watering as his tip began hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making you gag.

But Nick wasn't in the mood to be slow tonight, not at all. And you didn't mind one bit. “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned as he felt your moans vibrate against his cock. He moved the camera to get a closer look at your face—your makeup was all running, your hair was a mess.

And you still looked so fucking sexy.

The fact that you were doing this here, in the backseat of his car in an empty lot, only heightened the sensation for him. It felt risky, thrilling, and yet entirely safe with Nick.

He continued his assault on your throat, his moans echoing in the car before pulling you off abruptly. You opened your eyes, breathless as you gazed up at the camera. Your breath hitched when his hand slid from your hair to your jaw, tilting your face slightly toward the camera. The lower half of your face was completely covered in salivia and pre-cum, the sight almost orgasmic to Nick.

He let out a soft moan at that, before pushing you back onto his cock, continuing with the same brutal pace. His grip in your hair was almost too tight, it was almost painful but the sounds of his praise and moans kept you going.

“That’s it,” Nick grunted loudly, clearly satisfied, his voice growing even lower. “All fucking mine.”

With one last thrust into your warm mouth, Nick was spilling into your mouth as you moaned loudly against his cock. The taste was heavenly and you did your best to swallow all of it, savoring it. After a few seconds he pulled you off his cock, taking you in with all your glory.

Your eyes were red, your make-up was running down your fucked-out eyes, lips all red and wet, and your face was covered in saliva. He loved when you got sloppy, it was his favorite sight in the whole word.

Nick’s hand moved from your hair, fingers gently grazing your skin before settling on your cheeks, gripping them sightly. He tilted your face toward the camera with a deliberate touch, his thumb brushing your lips. “Give me that smile,” he murmured, his tone soft yet commanding.

You felt the heat rise in your chest, and despite the tension, a small smile tugged at your lips. Your eyes met his, locking onto the intensity of his gaze.

“That’s my pretty girl,” Nick whispered, his voice dropping into something even deeper, almost a growl. “All mine.”

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[hannahssimblr]

Afterwards, my parents call. Obligatory. Happy Christmas, son, kind of thing. Tap. Camera. Their faces show up on the screen, heads uncomfortably close to one another, as though they are trying to create the illusion of happiness. For who? I think. I already know your marriage is fucked. 

“Is it late?” My mother is saying, and I tell her no. Just an hour difference. It’s past eleven.  

In the background, granny complains about a stain in the tablecloth. Ah, I think. That’s for who. Playacting happy families to please a woman who has never experienced pleasure in her life. 

It is one of those calls with a lot of pauses. Dead air, where nobody knows what to say. All waiting for the minutes to tick down, to reach an acceptable time to hang up. 

“You’ll get our gift when you get back to Berlin.” That’s dad, speaking in that way where he doesn’t open his mouth all the way, can’t be bothered moving his jaw. 

“Thanks. What is it?”

“The 4S,” he says, at the same moment mom says, “it’s a surprise.”

“Nice, thanks.”

“Your iPhone working out okay?”

“Yeah, could be better, though. Could be the 4S.” 

Nobody says anything. Sounds in the background. The television on. Running ads. 

“You were missed this year,” says mom. “When are you coming home?”

“March, I think.”

“Do you think you’ll bring Astrid?”

Glancing now at her, reading her book at the head of the bed. She looks up and pulls a face. 

“I’ll ask her.”

“I know Ivy wants to meet her.”

“Yeah, I know that. It just depends on our schedules and stuff.”

“Are you being respectful to her family?” That’s dad, out of the blue, like he’s been holding that one in.

“No,” I say.

“I know how you are with grown-ups. If I found out you’ve been rude or ungrateful towards them… It’s generous of them to take you for Christmas, and I hope you’ve been gracious.”

“Yeah, dad, I’ve been literally so nice. What did you think I was going to do to them? I’m an adult, like. You don’t need to talk to me like this anymore.” 

“Well, I know some things don’t change so easily. May I remind you of the calls we got about your behaviour from other parents and your teachers?”

I heave out a sigh. The insanity of his idea that Gitte might phone him in Ireland to complain about the behaviour of his twenty-year-old son. “He didn’t thank me for the Rødkål,” she’ll say somberly, and he’ll be humiliated, forced to apologise on my behalf, promising to discipline me appropriately at the end of term. 

“See? You act this way, sighing like a teenager, and then wonder why I worry about your behaviour. When you grow up and consider the impact this attitude has on the reputation of this family, then—”

“Ivy’s gone to bed, has she?” I continue conversationally and force him to stop talking through my favourite tactic, pretending he is not there. Mom nods. “She was up early opening her presents.”

“Mad that even when there’s no Santa anymore, she’s still doing that.”

“Yes.” Her mouth twitches like she thinks she’s smiling. “Not as early as a couple of years ago.”

“Yeah, the four o’clock wake up call was not ideal. Did she like the polaroid camera?”

“She loved it. Already ran out of film taking pictures of a cat in the garden.”

“Classic.”

Silence. “How are your finances?” 

Irritation blooms in my chest. The urge to hang up the phone. “Fine, I think. I don’t know.”

“You’re being careful with your money?”

“Yes.”  

“Ivy would have been happy with something worth ten or fifteen euros. She doesn’t need expensive things from you. Just a token would do. One of those Pillow Pets.”

“It’s fine. I’ve enough.”

“Okay, because you know when it’s gone, it’s gone, Jude. We’ve agreed–”

“Yes!” I cry. “Yes, I know. It’s fine. I have money.”

“Okay. I hope you didn’t spend more than you needed, is all I’m saying. It’s natural to want to impress people with gifts, you know, especially when you have a girlfriend, but if she really cares for you, then she won’t expect–”

“I have to go. She’s calling me.”

Astrid looks up, frowning. 

“Oh,” says mom.

“Yeah, sorry, she needs me to do something. I have to go. Thanks for the iPhone, or whatever. I’ll thank you again when I get back to Berlin. Tell Ivy I was asking after her. Bye.” End Call button. They’re swallowed by the home screen. 

I fall sideways onto the bed while Astrid’s mouth curls up. “Your phone conversations with your family are quite stressful.”

“Mostly because they don’t know how to be normal.” I wriggle my head toward her lap. “What are we reading?”

“My new book.”

“From Mia? You haven’t sacrificed it?”

“She has good taste, unfortunately.”

“Hm.”

Her hand comes to my scalp, stroking it with her nails. I love that. Let my eyes close as tingles cascade down the back of my skull. “That is the first time I’ve heard your father’s voice.”

“Oh, yeah, he and I don’t really talk except on special occasions.”

“He sounds highly strung.”

“Hmph,” I chuckle. “Understatement. He thinks his life is on the precipice of catastrophe at every moment. He has the central nervous system of a man being hunted by a charging bear.”

“He doesn’t think very much of your manners, does he?”

“Doesn’t think much of me in general.”

“That’s a shame,” combing my fringe back from my forehead, looking at me with a gentle expression. “I think there’s a lot to love.”

A fluttery feeling in my stomach, like how I felt before we were together, when I’d still only touched her in my imagination. I want to trust her. Betrayed her earlier, with Mia in the study. Should have been loyal, knew she’d tell me about her past when she was ready. Times like this when her face is soft and open, I feel I could tell her anything in the world, but it’s only fear, I don’t know, habit, even, that prevents me. Always coming close to saying something about myself, but never doing it. Since when am I like this? This is who I am to people in Berlin. Was in Dublin, too, I suppose, but it’s worse now. I don’t want it to be worse.

“He basically told me I was shit my entire life,” I say. Oh God, a confession. Lingering there. Astrid's face doesn't change. No shock or disgust.

“As a child, too?” She says.

“Yeah, he… well, he didn’t really raise me. That was Maureen, in America. She did all the actual work. He’d visit some weekends at college and hang around the house acting completely bored, like, obviously, just waiting to leave again. All the pictures of us together, he’s not even smiling or anything. Kind of trying to, maybe, but his face always looked so strained. I dunno. I think it was that he just didn’t want a kid yet. He would have, later, but I tried to ruin his plans, being born and all. He had this rigid life plan. He’d go to college, become a dentist, have a lot of money in the bank, then he’d meet a woman, get married, and have a baby. It all happened upside down for him, and it freaked him out on a cellular level. If you knew him it’d make sense. He gets agitated when things aren’t done the right way.”

“Too bad your mother seduced him, then.”

I smirk. “That’s probably what he’d say, yeah. It was all her fault, or whatever.”

“She was just too sexy to resist.”

“Ugh, please.”

“She is beautiful, your mother. You can tell she was even better when she was young. Not that she is old, I suppose. No wrinkles that I have ever seen.”

“She’s thirty-nine, and she gets injections in her face.”

“So what?”

“Well, whatever. She ruined his plans then. We did, the two of us. I had the power to ruin his life from within the womb, which is pretty cool, actually. He was so mad at me, it was like he refused to form a bond out of stubbornness alone. He knew how to do all these things, like fish and sail and shoot, but never taught me how. Maureen was always on at him to take me on trips.”

“And he didn’t?”

“No, he did, like, about twice, but I always ended up doing something that annoyed him. Like being frightened by dead animals, which was obviously unforgivable. He was going on then all the time about how soft I was.”

“Being soft is okay.”

I glance up at her. “I’m not that soft.”

“If you say so.”

“Well, anyway, basically he just doesn’t respect me, and I don’t respect him, and we kind of barely tolerate each other and always have, and were forced to exist under the same roof for like, eight years after we moved to Ireland. He thinks I’m fundamentally stupid, and lazy, and lacking foresight and follow through, no backbone, weak, stupid, rude, a pathetic excuse…” I break off, sudden horrible sensation, like I might actually cry. Sad. It’s only Christopher, but being in Astrid’s lap while she touches my hair like this has me in a vulnerable condition. A six-foot-three baby, upset because his dad didn't pay him attention. 

“You’re not those things,” she murmurs. “He’s wrong.”

What I want to hear. She doesn’t do that a lot, reassure me. She assumes I don’t need it, and sometimes, it’s what I prefer. Getting to feel a bit invincible. Could be the influence of her environment that has her like this, surrounded by the memories, old photos, Nicklas’ mother, earlier, saying hello to her in the long grass like a ghost from simpler times. Whatever it is, I like it. I like her here. Even the ugly things.

“I like talking to you like this,” I murmur. “It’s nice.”

“Mm, yes.”

“We should feel okay doing it more, I think. You can tell me things if you want to. I’ll never judge you.”

“I have nothing to tell you. Nothing is important.”

“Okay.” Sleepier. The world taking on a dreamy, surreal feeling. “If you want, you could come to Ireland with me in March. See where I grew up.”

“Oh, you make Ireland sound so boring.”

“You said the same of Denmark, and here we are. I think it’s grand.”

“That is only your perception.”

“You really wouldn’t come? It will be even more boring without you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Ivy will be so sad.”

“Ivy will survive.” Her hand moves to my face, skimming her nail gently down the bridge of my nose. Mystical finger shapes cross my vision. “Tell me what you will do there.”

“Play by play?”

“Mm.”

“I’ll meet Jen,” I say. “And maybe we’ll go to the pub. My friend Shane might join. Lives in Dublin now. They meet up sometimes. His girlfriend, too. She’s nice.”

“Mm.”

“And, I dunno. I suppose I might take Ivy to the cinema. Get her out of the house. Get pizza. She likes taking the train into the city together, looking out over the bay and all. Maybe we’ll–” a yawn escapes me, “maybe we’ll go up the coast. Cliff walks. Dead cold in March, mind, but so nice. Seagulls are villainous, there. Ravenous for chips, they rip them out of your hand.”

“Yes, mm,” she’s not really listening, but I don’t mind. Talking just to talk. It’s about being together more than anything. The importance of just touching, laying against the other, fingers intertwining lazily as white tufts appear, drifting outside the window. 

“Snow,” I say, interrupting my own monologue. “It’s snowing.”

Hardly looking up. “It won’t stay.”

“I’ve never seen snow on Christmas before.” Magical. 

“It’s just a little. Not proper snow.”

“A white Christmas.”

“No, another grey one.”

Suddenly, it’s all wonderful. Her, and me, and here. Love as a concept. And the snow coming down in little flurries, the quiet space between one year and the next, where time is slow and nothing is urgent. Not knowing if you’re supposed to wish on the first snow, but wishing anyway, for more of this, her, us, for a peaceful year. 

“Will you kiss me?” I whisper, so quietly she doesn’t hear me. 

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

She does. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[sillyteenagegirlinlovewithblocks]

All my head cannons for aphmau characters.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Zvahl family. 

Laurence is Italian. 

He’s 5’11

Laurence is a charmer. flowers, dinner dates , stay in dates, anything romantic he gots it. 

He’s very bi and is constantly confused. ( me to laur) 

Laurence was a highlighter kid.

He has really bad Separate anxiety especially from partner. 

He has an iPhone 8 and will keep that thing until he dies or it is dust. I mean like the screen is falling off a little it’s cracked and laggy. 

He can’t do math or tell time on an actual clock. 

He’s dyslexic. ( same same) 

Because he grew up on a farm imma say he’s helped multiple animals give birth. 

Never really had a crush on aphmau he thought he did but he was just jealous that garroth was putting his attention into her and not him. 

Ro’Meave family.

garroth switched rooms with vlyd to have the room the laurances window faces. 

I like to think garrote and Laurence are next door neighbors. 

Non of the ro’Meave children were allowed animals growing up but that didn’t stop Zane from having a pet spider that his parents didn’t find out about until it died but it escaping and garte killing it since he thought a random tarantula just entered there house.( not that he wouldn’t kill it anyways if he knew it was a pet) 

Zenix is one of the ro’mave brothers but he has a different mom and doesn’t live with them. That’s why he hates them sm. ( fuck garte and his cheating ass ) also Zenix looks a lot like garte but he dyes his hair and does makeup to make himself not look it. 

        (That’s also means Zenix is secretly a blonde. ) 

Zianna has forced all the boys to join an activity since they were 3. 

Garroth joined a bunch of different sports but then baseball stuck for him.

Zane joined cooking.

Vylad did cooking, pottery, painting, soccer, ice skating but ultimately he ended up staying in fencing. 

Garroth is the tallest out of everyone and gene is second tallest. 

Garroth 6’2 

Rodriguez family. 

Genes real name is Eugene.

Gene and Dante don’t have the same dad. 

Genes dad was abusive and left when he was 4. 

Dante’s dad died before he was born in the military. 

Gene is super cuddly in his sleep and he often cuddles Zenix in his sleep. 

Sasha has a whole album of them cuddling together. 

Dante and gene have there mothers last name. 

Gene 6’0 

Valkrum family.

Travis is German. ( me to buddy) 

Travis and his dad are best friends and talk about everything together. 

Shalashaska family. 

In Mcd after aphamu I become Irene or got her relic a lot of people were upset with her due to previous prayers unanswered. 

Gelula family. 

Zenix and gene sleep fight due to there childhoods. 

Zenix has a staring problem.

He lives with his mom.

Ashida family. 

So I ignore the nickname Kawaii Chan and just call her nana so that’s how I am referr to her. 

She has 15 siblings. 

10 Boys and 5 girls. 

She's a glass child. 

She a middle child.

So I can't really think of more but maybe ill update if I do but for my last one Imma say Garroth got cadenza a fashion designing job because he’s rich and has friends in high places he just pestered all of them until someone was willing to take a look at her work and actually loved it. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

[rogersandclarke]

our stefon story

hey, seth! can i talk to you for a second? sure thing lorne, what’s up? great. so basically i’m a little worried about the st patrick’s day sketch. oh why is that, lorne?

by the way the writing style is like to recall clarice lispector, william s. burroughs, james joyce, and SHAKESPEARE. because it’s a play. and mindy kaling, because she wrote matt and ben.

oh why is that lorne? glad you asked. seth–your character–who is YOU–is not supposed to kiss stefon. you are supposed to kindly accept it but you are not supposed to kiss back. kiss back? i don’t think i kissed back. Yes you did. really? i didn’t think i was. like, i just was acting like seth meyers normally would. i’m supposed to be myself, right? look, that’s fine, but you can’t be too gay on tv. i already agreed to let you have the wedding next year, but we have to do it in the edit. seth meyers can’t show reciprocal affection on television, we have to gay-bait the audience!

wait, i just don’t understand. i was just sitting there. i didn’t kiss him. ummm yeah we’ll see about that. roll the tape!!!

(the tape plays and it shows seth and stefon making out for five minutes while the director yells cut and john mulaney taps them on the shoulder and asks them to stop. “this isn’t in my script,” he says with his broad nasal sound from st ignatius high school).

seth runs out of the building. “oh fuck!” he thinks. “i didn’t do that, did i?” he screams to the sky. I LOVE MY FIANCÉ! I KNOW SHE WILL GIVE BIRTH VERY FASR IN THE LOBBY, HOSPITAL, AND MY BATHRUB!

STEFON exits the theatre, and approaches seth

STEFON: Hey baby. are you okay?

SETH: No. Why are you calling me baby

STEFON: I always call you baby when we’re not on set. See?

STEFON shows SETH a voice memo on his phone.

STEFON (V.O.): Hi baby, I just wanted to send you a voice memo cause i’m walk to the club right now but i really think you should come through, because you would love the dancing lion drag show tonight. It’s at Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round. and the password is Row row row you boat. I love you baby I love dating you I want to get serious in this abandoned meat factory.

SETH: Oh god, the fucking meat factory.

STEFON: Are you remembering?

SETH: YES. IT HURTS.

STEFON: you always forget me, and i always have to remind you who we are.

SETH: …

SETH (Cont.): Do I love you?

STEFON: I don’t know.

STEFON puts his hands to his face. SETH grabs them and holds them.

SETH: I think I do.

30 Rockefeller Plaza gleams above them. Tourists gaze on

TOURIST: I love my new Iphone 3

STEFON and SETH stop kissing.

TOURIST: Hey Are you guys Sethon? Can I have an autograph?

SETH and STRFON nod. They grab the pen and sign a hundred dollar bill while holding the pen at the same time. they write MRS SETHON MEYERS <3

TOURIST NOW KNOWN AS GAY TOURIST: I love you guys, your romance is so special to the community. it made my dog less homophobic to me. she loves “your mother and i are separating.”

SETH: Thanks. I’m still learning. I actually haven’t left my woman yet, and I don’t intend to, But it’s okay.

SETH looks at STEFON.

STEFON: I guess so.

SETH: I don’t know what to do.

STEFON: I can’t blame you. I also have another boyfriend.

SETH: Did our lovemaking trip mean nothing to you?

They share a meaningful look.

STEFON: Let’s dance it out.

SETH: Toure right. let’s go to WEEE LITTLE BAAABY

[to-the-stars8]

Reviving Love

Jason Todd x Reader AO3

Chapter 2

Jason hadn’t meant to stalk your Instagram page, but it was too tempting. Your profile was public and you posted just the right amount that he could put pieces of your life together from the time he died to the present. Eventually, he had scrolled down far enough that he surprisingly found a picture of you and him.

By the shit mid-2000s Instagram filter and the poor iPhone quality, it had to be right when the two of you started dating. Jason subconsciously ran a hand over his cheek, feeling the stubble and small scar on his jawline as he stared down at the smooth-skinned, rosy-cheeked boy in the photo. It had been before the years got to him, and it was almost an anomaly to see himself so content. He’d forgotten he had been at one point.

Jason shut off the phone, the picture brought him back to reality. Even if he did see you again, he felt too unattractive to ever approach you. No, the scars on his body and the bitterness that hung off every word he said would probably turn you away. He sat on his bed, thinking about how if you saw him again you would probably be deeply disappointed. 

And, scared because, as far as you knew, he was dead. That much would be obvious. 

Jason cursed Dick again for bringing you up. He didn’t know if it was pathetic or not that he was thinking of an old flame from back when he was a little more than a teenager. Surely, you probably hadn’t thought of him in years as it looked like you had moved on with your life. In any case, he was happy about it and tried to do the same. 

The only time he’d ever thought of you before was when you popped up occasionally in his dreams. He’d wake up, and wonder what the fuck that was about. Then he would get up to work out, cook, or anything else so he wouldn’t dwell too much on the thought of you. 

This time, Jason got up to get something to eat as hunger was starting to burn at the corners of his stomach. When he opened the fridge, the light illuminating the dark room, there was nothing. Well, almost nothing. There was a pickle jar, expired cheese, and some beers but nothing that would constitute a good meal for a growing boy as Alfred would say. Defeated and hungry, Jason resigned himself to the horrible fate of having to leave his apartment to go to the store. Groaning, he pulled on some pants and a hoodie before grabbing his keys. 

It wasn’t too late in the evening so plenty of people were still going about, leaving work to return home or going out for the night. Honestly, Jason didn’t find it all too bad. In fact, in a certain light, Gotham could be nice. In a late eighties neo-noir kind of way. The sound of the people on the street with the traffic in the background under the light rainfall made Jason feel at home. It was the diamond in the rough. 

The light rain was a nice relief from the lately warmer weather as summer was finally fading away to let autumn in. Luckily, the store was right around the corner from his apartment, so being outside in the light drizzle wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. 

The store owners greeted him as he entered. Another thing he liked was this part of Gotham, the one not seen by people like Bruce. It was familiarity, a general tough, arms-length kindness that was much appreciated by him. 

“We’ve got those cigarettes you like so much, Jason,” The old man said. “Those imported ones, ya know?” 

“You know I can’t pass those up,” Jason laughed. “Let me grab some groceries and I’ll come back up here to grab ‘em.” 

With a laugh, Jason playfully waved off the old guy as he did the same, wandering down one of the many aisles. Bread, cheese, meat, and soda—The meal made for a growing boy. Jason wandered up and down for a little while, pausing at the selection of condoms before laughing to himself. Nah, he wouldn’t need those any time soon. 

He was about to turn down another aisle when he bumped into someone. “Shit, sorry,” He said, finally looking up. 

Just his fuckin’ luck, he had bumped into you.

[kiennilove]

ART TAG

thanks to @doshiart for tagging me! so excited <3

How did you start drawing? What year was it that you become more seriously and consciously interested in it?

i don’t really remember, but for some reason drawing was an activity that interested me the most?? i’m not counting playing with toys and imagining things, but it’s about creating something from scratch. one time i made paper dolls, wrote a short scenario (very poorly lol) and kinda made a theatrical play in my head with all of this??

spoiler: in 2021 i’ve made an actual play with my best friend, who’s also an artist, with great paper dolls and a great scenario! it was for a college exam, we got the highest score. :3

i started taking it all seriously in 2014, when i went to my first art school. it was small, literally one room, and there were lots of other classes in the same building, like singing, dancing (i did that too at some point), etc. then i moved to the bigger one, that was solely for arts, but i didn’t make it past the first year due to health reasons. so somewhere in the mid-10s.

When you felt the urge to share your art with other people? When did you start posting your drawings on social media?

when i saw other people around me doing it. it was 2014 when i first shared my art online (got a lot of hate because it looked bad lol), and then it was 2016 when i made my first tumblr acc and posted some anime art with some consistency. now i post here and on another platform, just duplicating the content lol

Your first/earliest drawing. What were your impressions of it back then and what are your feelings now?

i tried to find pictures of these first paper dolls but couldn’t, fuck, so here we have…

some OC i did in 2014, i don’t even remember the name anymore :/

i did this after i watched my first anime 😭😭😭 i made this picture back then too, at my iphone 4, don’t judge me

i was proud as fuck because look he has ✨cool hair✨ and it’s a ✨full body✨ but no hands ofc lol

i mean, it looked great for me back then, so i haven’t change my thoughts about it lol i also have no idea what i wrote in the upper corner, i used google translate 😭😭😭

Your first fanart ever

also couldn’t find it, it was jeff the killer fanart, also somewhere from 2014 😭 but! here i have my first digital fanart… 😭😭😭 i spend i think 6 hours to draw this, i didn’t know about layers or anything really so here it is lol

Your first gallavich fanart

holy shit, it’s from may 2022! old habits never die, 7x10 is always in my heart

When you had bad days and things didn't work out, what inspired you to keep trying?

nothing, actually. if i will try to find any inspiration, i will get angry and irritated as fuck because nothing’s working out SO i’ll relax and go play brawl stars 😎

Show your old piece that you strongly dislike and tell why.

this… spend too much time on it just to realize it wasn’t that good as i imagined, the dress look like it was made out of cardboard, i don’t know, it just… doesn’t work. i had worse, yeah, but i have a soft spot for them. this one should be somewhere from 2018

HONORABLE MENTIONS TO THIS PIECE OF SHIT. IT WAS FUCKING 2019, WHY THE FUCK DID I RANDOMLY START TO DRAW LIKE THIS??? just for comparison, picture underneath is from 2019 TOO.

Show your old piece that you very like and tell why. What's the difference with the previous?

let’s go with this, it was 2017 :3

soft, cute, an attempt to do a new art style. i don’t know, theis pictures seem cozy!

Show your old piece that you were very proud of back then.

ACE ATTORNEYYYY >:333

both are somewhere in 2020-2021

fuck, i love ace attorney

Do you do any practice sketches or warm-ups before you draw something big?

mmm not really, only a quick sketch with some guidelines so at the beginning my pictures look like this

(yes, this is ian filming mickey while mick is giving him a bj)

Sketch vs Final. Show your process.

damn should’ve kept mickey’s face lol

Your most recent drawing.

can’t show the most recent one, it’s for an event, but this one is the only finished one FOR NOW, but i also have this little piece here, idk if i will finish it (aaand i forgot mickey’s tattoos)

Give yourself some praise! Look at what improved in your art!

literally YOU GO GIRL!!! KEEP DRAWING NO MATTER WHAT!! i improved as fuck, went through a lot of shit and breakdowns but here i am, being confident and loved by other people and, most importantly, artist who have a much higher skill! i love that. i did great

Any advice you'd give to your earlier self?

just keep going. don’t be shy and don’t erase everything is one small thing is wrong. don’t start an arguments when somebody says “i’m better at art that you!!”. and, maybe, use a hard drive to save shit-

Set a goal for yourself for the coming year.

i want toooooo… i don’t know! i want to try line-less art style, get into more challenges, etc, everything i can :3 and maybe open commissions

aaand i’m tagging… come on, show us your secrets, don’t be shy 😈

@deathclassic @spookygingerr @gallapiech @heymrspatel

@deedala @burninface @vintagelacerosette

[athetos]

People on the severance subReddit were arguing that Cold Harbor is going to be severing someone right before they die and im sorry but that makes zero sense. Firstly that goes against the apparent agenda of the board, which is to achieve a type of immortality. Secondly it doesn’t really make sense from a company perspective either if their clients will be dying and thus unable to spend more money on their products. Thirdly they still would very much die obviously the only difference is they wouldn’t be conscious during it but come on it would be way easier just to euthanize them and use sedatives and you’d get the same effect. Plus the patient would still have effectively the same shit happen, they will know this is the last moment they’d be conscious and that they’d never wake up so?

It’s still not as annoying/stupid as thinking Miss Huang is a Gemma clone/her and Mark’s daughter considering let’s be real there’s some racism happening there, they aren’t even of the same asian descent and the timeline absolutely doesn’t work you and the only hints we have towards potential cloning is the goats anyway. But what do you expect it’s Reddit.

And oh yeah people complaining Devon was out of character/secretly working for Lumen are just…. Come on. The evidence is she uses an Android phone (because they wouldn’t give a villain an iPhone on an Apple TV show which idk if that’s a thing they do or not), though I can’t remember ever actually seeing anyone have an iPhone on the show they probably have some stupid Lumen brand shit. And also that she tried to call Cobel who is clearly their enemy like what do you want her to do??? Her brother nearly died from basement brain surgery by a mad scientist experimenting on him like a rat who didn’t even restrain him during the operation and is shady as fuck and won’t give her any straight answers beyond “Gemma is still alive” without any further explanation. And the only person she knows who actually might know what to do is Cobel, whom while yes she might turn them in obviously that’s a risk might also know how to save him. She’s panicking and desperate! What do you want from her! Why would she be with Lumen when she’s always been in Mark’s corner and hates Lumen more than any other unsevered character on the show and is disgusted by her husband cooperating with them! Come ON people

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️

51 for ⚡️:

---

And that’s… Well that’s expensive. They have a mortgage. They have bills. It’s not all as simple as what he wants. 

“I haven’t really been able to get it out of my brain for the last few days,” Eddie admits. “And the more I think about it, the more I want to do it.”

“Okay,” Buck nods. “We can do the math on the money, and figure out how it’d work.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says. “I… Yes. I’d like that.”

“But,” Buck says, and Eddie goes a little rigid. “This isn’t, like, a guilt thing? Is it?”

“A guilt thing,” Eddie echoes. 

“Yeah,” Buck says. “I don’t want you to feel like you have anything to prove.”

It’s a good callout. Eddie can admit that. But honestly? That’s not what this is.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I… I just don’t want to miss more than I have to. I guess. Obviously that’s… In relation to some of the guilt I have from last time. But, mostly it’s just… Something I feel I need to do, for myself?”

Buck nods slowly, processing.

“Okay,” he eventually says. “As long as you know you can come back sooner, if you feel isolated or whatever.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I know.”

It’s not the same as last time. That had been about death. Death and guilt and fear. This is about life. His daughter’s. Making the most of that. Because he does know how precious time is, this time around. He hadn’t had that perspective the first time around. Not until he was bleeding out in the sand. And with this job? Who knows how much time he does have? He’d like to hope for lots of it. To see his kids grow up happy and healthy pursuing their dreams. But he can’t know.

“We’ll make something happen,” Buck promises. “As long as you don’t, like, make her love you most in that extra time? I’d be pretty mad.”

---

51 for ⛅️:

---

Eddie just isn’t sure how that could be possible.

How could he really deserve all of this? Father Brian had said that he does. He just needs to earn it. Is this what the life of someone who earned it looks like? Is this all some sort of divine message to show him what’s possible? 

After Nico goes to bed, Chris retires to his room to do some school work before going to sleep. Buck showers. Eddie takes that time to learn more about his life. His maybe someday life. And, of all the things he finds himself most curious about, after his conversation with Christopher, he finds himself most curious about Buck. So he does something that maybe he shouldn’t. 

He looks through his phone’s photos.

Now by itself, this seems pretty miniscule. They’re his future photos. He has a right to them. And yet, he feels like he’s invading his future self - and especially Buck’s future self’s - privacy. 

The iPhone photo interface is a little different. And, more than ever in the past, his pictures have been sorted into albums. A good person might take the time to go through the album titled Nico. Or even the album titled Chris. But he knows how he feels about this timeline’s version of Christopher. He’s thrilled about Christopher. And he can only presume he must love Nico just the same. Of course he does, that’s a pretty loveable kid. 

The only person who Eddie is confused about is Buck. Is Chris right? Is Eddie just burying some deep, repressed homoeroticism? Is he gay? Is he in love with Buck? If he is gay, loving Buck makes a lot of sense. He’s kind. He’s generous. He’s funny. He’s devoted to Eddie and Chris. He wants all the same things Eddie does. He’s beautiful.

Wait.

Wait, that’s a strange thought. 

He’s handsome. Very clearly good looking. That’s what Eddie should have thought. Or… Or it’s what he would have thought if no part of him was considering what Chris said to be true. Oh fuck.

So anyway, Eddie spends his time looking at two albums. One simply labelled Buck. The other ominously labelled 🎁😉.  Eddie thinks he can guess what that means, but he still does not start there. Too scary. Too… Well, probably too revealing. 

The first album are just photos of Eddie and Buck and Buck by himself. All the photos Eddie knows he’d take of Buck and the kids are probably in the kids’ albums. 

[saythatuwill]

eclipse

“I just feel like after everything this past year, I need to tell you how much I appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me.” Noah’s voice is soft and sincere and he’s definitely sounded like this before, but it feels different this time. “You never need to tell me you appreciate me. I know you do.” “Then I want to.” Well, Nick can’t discourage him from doing something he wants, especially not something like this. He’s not used to it from Noah, but it’s still sweet and very, very welcomed. “Okay,” He says. “Then I want to listen.” (Set a few months after the break.)

i apologize that i have literally only posted one thing so far. when it comes to writing i'm not good at writing small, i write big and thorough. maybe i'll start taking requests to learn to take it a little slower! this fic is technically the prequel/part 1 of i love you (for infinity). you don't need to read it in order to enjoy this fic! this was originally posted to ao3, read it here !! warnings: none apply, it's just cute boyfriends. pairing: nicholas ruffilo/noah sebastian (sebffilo)

His phone buzzes on the bedside table, and Nick groans in half-asleep frustration.

He doesn’t know who the fuck is calling him right now, nor what time it is. All he can hear is the buzzing, and the faint sound of the FaceTime ringtone. And Nick knows he could let it ring until whoever it is gets the hint and leaves him alone to sleep. But is he that kind of guy?

He lifts his face off the pillow, his hand reaching out and missing a few times to grab his iPhone from the table. His hair is in his face, probably in his mouth, and he curses himself for having fallen asleep without tying it back. 

The phone stops ringing just as he finally gets it close enough to him, and he groans once more. Of course, just his luck, right? He slams the phone face down onto the mattress next to him in annoyance, but just as he lays his head back down…

Jesus Christ, there it fucking is again.

“Son of a bitch! ” He’s exhausted, he’s grumpy, and he’s half tempted to throw the device across the room and go the fuck back to bed. He flips his phone back over, the light of the screen blinding as he just barely manages to read the contact name with bleary eyes.

Noah. 

Noah?

He squints at the time. It’s 3:41AM on a Tuesday, and Noah is FaceTiming him? Better yet, he’s calling him twice in a row now? 

The frustration turns into worry. And worry turns into anxiety. Nicholas rubs one of his eyes, eyebrows knit together in concern.

It wasn’t like he was the only one worried about Noah. Everyone was. Folio was, Jolly was, Matt was… they all were. Tour had been hard on everyone, sure, but if you absolutely had to ask them who had taken the stress and the demand the hardest, they’d all tell you the exact same person.

Noah had really stuck it out for a long time, but Nick knew his boyfriend could only take so much. He’d started to lose sleep, his appetite suffered, his energy had hit an all time low, and the longer things went on, the more unhappy he’d begun to look on stage. Smiles could only be faked for so long.

“ Nick, you worry too much. ” Noah had told him, and he put on one of those fake smiles again. It was so forced that it made the bassist visibly cringe.

God, those beautiful brown eyes of Noah’s— they usually held this light in them, so bright that Nick was certain that it would put the sun to shame. When he smiled, they’d twinkle as they scrunched up into those pretty crescent shapes. 

So when he put on that fake smile, there was no even giving Noah the benefit of the doubt. That smile did not reach his eyes, and it did not mask the emotional turmoil within him. 

He knew then, that it was only a matter of time. And when it came, it came in the form of a makeshift intervention for Noah, one that had led to tears, then apologies, and finally, he’d given in. The shows needed to be canceled, Noah was too burnt out to continue like that.

That was in May. Now, it’s September. And Noah is FaceTiming him at nearly 4 in the morning.

Nicholas probably shouldn’t be fearing the worst right now, but he is. What if Noah’s having a breakdown? What if he’s reached his breaking point? What if he’s crying, or he’s drinking, or he’s making some bullshit reckless decision just to feel something? 

Sleepiness doesn’t matter anymore. Nick’s thumb swipes quickly to answer the call. He doesn’t know what state he’s going to see the love of his life in, but he’s prepared to help him. He’s prepared to be his anchor to ground him. He is ready to be whatever Noah Sebastian needs him to be.

“Are you okay? Are you safe?” Nick blurts it out the moment the call connects, the worry overtaking him like a concerned mother.

“Uh. Hey.” But he’s instead greeted with Noah, his phone resting against something on his desk, laptop pulled up, headphones around his neck, completely… fine. In fact, he looks great. 

In the past, he’d seen Noah in worse states. Like in early June, sleep deprived and disheveled as he tried to work on music despite having been told to just relax for once in his life . Or in mid July, in tears on his bathroom floor, wondering if he’d ruined the band forever, hating himself and everything he’d ever made. 

Today, he is clean shaven, he’s wearing a Naruto shirt that is not only clean, but not wrinkled. His hair is freshly washed and neat, his bangs split down the middle. It’s getting a little longer, Nick notices, and he’s not sure if he likes that or loves that.

On one hand, he misses Noah’s long hair sometimes, like when they lived together. Sometimes he’d tie it back into a messy bun and Nick’s chest would feel warm all of a sudden. On the other, the shorter haircut suited him so well; it was softer and fluffy, and sometimes when Noah was exhausted enough, he’d use his lap as a pillow and fall asleep, while Nick gently stroked his hair, playing idly with the dark brown locks.

Wait, hold on. Noah looks completely fine. So he’s not in distress, or doing something stupid, he’s just… totally good. At 4 o’clock in the morning. FaceTiming him.

“Noah, what the fuck.” He runs his hand over his face, that grumpiness starting to seep right back into his voice. “Do you know how late it is?”

“Did I disrupt your beauty rest?” There’s a playfulness in his voice, and Nick’s not sure if he wants to kiss him or punch him for it. Maybe both.

“As a matter of fact,” Nick yawns loudly, “you did. What the hell are you calling me at 4 in the morning for?”

“To make you ask questions. It worked.” This time, Noah grins, and that alone is almost enough to make Nick forget why he’s annoyed with him. Because he sees it. That light, even through the iPhone camera, it’s there. The sun is back. His sun is back, the clouds have finally cleared.

“Noah Sebastian Davis.”

“Whoa, okay, okay!” He raises his hands up off his keyboard in surrender. “I’m sorry!”

“C’mon man, it’s late. Why are you calling me?” Nick rubs one of his eyes with a hand, yawning once more as he tries to wake himself up.

“Bored.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and’?”

“The real reason, Noah.”

Noah pauses, and then he sighs, hating that Nick is right. 

“I’m lonely and I miss you.” He leans his cheek against his hand, elbow rested on the arm of his computer chair. The bassist smiles to himself at the confession.

“So you choose 4 in the morning to miss me?” God damn it, he couldn’t be mad at Noah if he tried. Not when he’s the happiest he’s looked in months. So he sighs, and his boyfriend smiles because he knows exactly what that sigh means.

“I miss you all the time. Just… a little extra right now is all.” Noah’s words hang in the air, and for a moment his gaze moves elsewhere. 

Noah isn’t very good with articulating the way he feels. It’s what makes being a songwriter for a band so nice sometimes, but even that has its limitations.

When things began to get bad during the tour, he didn’t say anything about it. He figured that if he put on a brave face and kept pushing, the exhaustion and the dread of waking up in the morning would eventually pass. So every day, he’d get up even though it felt like he hadn’t slept in days. Some days, he’d wish he woke up so unbearably sick he’d have to cancel a show. But if that actually happened, he knew damn well he’d try to perform anyway. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans, or his friends, or his boyfriend.

God, no. Never Nick. Not when he hardly felt worthy of being loved so unconditionally by him to begin with.

And by May, it had gotten so bad that Noah felt numb. Fake smiles only got him so far, until one morning he woke up later than expected, but when he went to greet everyone, they were all just… sitting there. Like they’d been waiting for him. 

It had only taken one question. Three words.

“ Are you okay? ” And Noah had shattered like glass.

It wasn’t easy to bounce back from that. The first month being home, Noah did not want to actually take a break. Sure, he’d agreed to it, he let the shows be canceled, go home, no problem in theory. But in practice? Fuck that.

So the cycle repeated itself, just in the comfort of his own home. It didn’t last very long however; all it had taken was one FaceTime call with Nick where he’d been awake for 48 hours, genuinely hysterical from lack of sleep, for his MacBook to be taken away from him by Jolly. That had led to an argument while Noah was still sleep deprived, and it had ended in him saying some things he didn’t mean, throwing a glass plate on the floor in upset, and profuse apologies.

That had driven him a little crazy too. In the haze of success, self expectations that were way too high to reach, and the non stop pushing, and pushing, and pushing, Noah had begun to forget what else he genuinely enjoyed doing. He liked music, and making music, and singing for his music, and producing his music, and- well, it goes on. 

Nick would come over sometimes, but he honestly missed when they lived together a lot. Just the comfort in knowing his boyfriend would be just down the hall if he needed him… not in different houses. Jolly was nice to live with of course, that’s his best friend, but Nick.  

But now it’s September, and though he thought the misery would never end, it did. Most of it, anyway. Therapy helped a lot with that; the practice of radical acceptance. While pain is inevitable, suffering is optional . Getting back into working out, meditating, playing video games here and there, even flying out to see Folio and go fucking fishing , it all helped. 

Now that he has his MacBook back, it’s all even better. He has never felt so inspired, so ready and excited to create. That night, he’d been working on a song for hours , and it’s something he’s proud of. Truly, genuinely proud of. 

Then he got lonely. He’s an introverted person, he doesn’t mind being alone most of the time. Plus, Jolly does live here so he’s not necessarily alone. Though, he is most certainly asleep; when Noah had gone downstairs to get water, that motherfucker was snoring so loud it sounded like ASMR of a clogged drain.

He knows what he’s missing right now; Nick. Always Nick. His smile every morning no matter how exhausted or generally over it he is. The way his laugh sounds, that real laugh, the one that shakes his shoulders or makes him have to physically grab onto something to keep himself from doubling over. The way his fingers look when he plays the bass, or when they’re interlocked with Noah’s. 

He misses holding Nick’s hand so much. Or when he can trace over the moon phase tattoos on his fingers. Sometimes he says that Noah is like the sun, and if that’s the case Nick is his moon. His blue eyes put the stars to shame with how bright they are. When he smiles, his face lights up with this ethereal glow that Noah has already written a song about.

For that reason alone, he sometimes wishes Bad Omens made softer music. If they did, he’d make an entire album about how Nicholas Ruffilo makes him feel, and the fanbase could speculate who it’s about for eternity.

Noah wonders if a contest between Nick and the moon would be fair, but if it were to happen, the vocalist thinks his boyfriend might win.

“I miss you too, babe.” There’s a shuffling sound that’s just barely picked up in the microphone as Nick sits up, reaching to turn on the lamp at his bedside. The light is so blinding that he makes a face when it turns on, and Noah snickers at the sight of it.

“Sorry I woke you though. Just really needed to hear your voice.” Noah reaches up to rake a hand through his hair, sighing in contentment. “Mind staying up for a bit?”

“Of all the people in the world, you are the only person I will wake up and stay up for. You know that.” In Nick’s mind, it is not even a question. Noah needs company, he’s got it. He needs a place to stay, he’s got it. He needs an alibi after committing a heinous crime, fuck it, he’s got it.

“I’m grateful to have you, y’know.” Noah smiles at his phone screen, pulling his headphones from around his neck and setting them down somewhere offscreen. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Noah isn’t good at feelings, but tonight he wants to try. Perhaps it’s okay to be bad at things as long as you try. “I just- I feel so lucky to have you.”

“Where’s all this coming from?” Nick’s smiling as he sets his phone down to face up at the ceiling for a moment. He digs a hair tie out of his drawer, tying his bed head back into a half-assed ponytail, then picks his phone back up.

“I just feel like after everything this past year, I need to tell you how much I appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me.” Noah’s voice is soft and sincere and he’s definitely sounded like this before, but it feels different this time.

“You never need to tell me you appreciate me. I know you do.” 

“Then I want to.” 

Well, Nick can’t discourage him from doing something he wants, especially not something like this. He’s not used to it from Noah, but it’s still sweet and very, very welcomed.

“Okay,” He says. “Then I want to listen.”

“I don’t always know what to say. I still don’t think I do, but fuck it I need to try. You’ve just- you’ve seen me through so much. There’s times where I feel like, if it were me, I would’ve just walked away on myself.” Noah’s talking with his hands as he tries to articulate his point. “But you didn’t. You’ve never once walked away from me.” 

Nick knows what he means. They have a long history together, dating back to when they were teenagers. Sure, Noah was sometimes impulsive or did stupid shit. He had his good times, and he had his points where he was at his lowest. But walk away? Never. He would never do what he knows others in Noah’s life did; and even if that wasn’t a factor he still wouldn’t have.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. You could tell me to walk away and I still wouldn’t do it, Noah. You could, uh, I don’t know… uhhh…”

“Kill someone.”

“Kill someone- kill someone? That’s your- never mind.” He shakes his head. He’s used to Noah’s antics. “Sure, you could kill someone and I wouldn’t walk away from you. But I would call you a dumbass.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Noah laughs through his words, adoring his boyfriend’s honesty. “No, but-... that means a lot to me. Looking back on it now, I can’t believe how far we’ve come. Look at us now, you know?”

“Yeah.” Nick suddenly feels breathless as he reflects on it himself. “Look at us now.”

“There’s genuinely… no one else in this world, that I’d rather have at my side than you. You’ve helped shape me into who I am, and I see you in my future. Together, just like this.”

“Noah…”

“Just- just let me. Please .”

“Okay.” Nick goes quiet, unable to contain the smile on his lips.

“I want to grow old with you. Maybe get married or some shit when we’re a little older and have it all figured out more. If we, ever really have it figured out. I genuinely can’t fucking imagine my life without you.” Just slightly, Noah’s voice wavers. Nick almost doesn’t catch it. Hearing it makes his heart melt.

Nick parts his lips to reply, but then he closes them again. No, he’ll let his boyfriend continue, he can tell this is difficult for him to do. He couldn’t be prouder of him.

“I thought I was going to lose all of this.” Noah admits, and then he exhales. The breath is shaky. “The band, everything we worked for, the fans, the love of music, fuck… you. All of it. So I kept pushing because I really didn’t know what I’d do with myself if all of these things I worked so hard for, we worked so hard for, ended up meaning absolutely nothing because of me.”

Then, Noah sobs, softly. He runs a hand over his face, partially to wipe the tears away and partially because he’s a little embarrassed of exposing his soul like this.

But this is something he’s been working toward in therapy; the honesty. Talking about how he feels, telling people how he feels about them. He eyes the camera and sees that concerned look on Nick’s face, so he smiles.

The smile isn’t forced, it isn’t fake. His eyes still scrunch up, and they still twinkle. The sun is still shining just fine. So Nick relaxes and smiles back. The moon is glowing once more.

“Babe?” He speaks up anyway, and Noah lifts his head a little.

“Yeah?”

“I’m so fucking proud of you .” 

“Fuck.” Noah covers his face with his hands and weeps into them. He doesn’t even realize how much he needed to hear those words until they’re spoken to him. 

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I’m lucky that I’ve been able to see you through all this shit that life’s thrown at you. Getting older with you like this, being able to love you like this.” Now it’s Nick’s turn to talk, and his voice is wavering all the way through. Between the two of them, he’s probably the one that’s more in tune with his emotions. In cases like these, yeah. He’ll cry.

“I love you so fucking much Nick you don’t even know, I wish I had the words to describe it but I don’t and...” Noah’s words are muffled through his hands. He sobs again.

“I love you. I don’t need you to describe how much you love me, I feel it. I know it.” Nick reaches up to wipe at his eyes. This is not the sort of thing he expects at 4AM on a Tuesday, but he still wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“I know, I just wish I could.” Noah finally moves his hands away, and he cringes at the sight of how blotchy and red his face is. “Fuck. Ugh.” He reaches offscreen to grab a tissue.

For a moment, there’s a comfortable silence between them. No words, and that’s okay. They just look at each other and maybe there’s an unspoken conversation between them, a mutual understanding of the love they share. An understanding that doesn’t require a single word nor syllable.

“I think we should grow old together. So we can be two grouchy old men in some nursing home.” Nick speaks up first, and though it’s a stupid thing to say it makes Noah chuckle anyway.

“Jeeeesus, imagine us in a nursing home. You think I’ll still be able to growl when I’m that old?”

“I hope so. It’d scare the shit out of the nurses. They’d think you need an exorcism.”

They’re both cracking up laughing at the thought. A 93 year old Noah, growling like a demon straight out of hell, probably causing some poor soul to piss themselves. With his tired and constantly disapproving husband next to him, probably still headbanging along next to him.

“Fuck, that’s funny.” By the time they both stop laughing, Noah’s wiping tears out of his eyes for a new, much better reason. “Oh god, I needed that laugh. I’m going to be thinking about that for the next two days.”

“Every time I think of us growing old from now on, that’s what I’m gonna think about and I’m not sure if I like that or hate it.” Nick chuckles, shaking his head as he too, wipes tears from his eyes. “Oh, by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Is your front door unlocked?” 

“Uhhh, no? Why?”

“Unlock it, I’m coming over.” Nick holds his phone firmly as he stands up, looking around on his bedroom floor for his shoes.

“What? Dude, it’s 4 in the morning.” Noah’s eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are wide at how dead serious his boyfriend is being about this.

“I’m lonely and I miss you.”

Noah stares at him through the screen for a minute, realizing how his words have been thrown right back at him, and his heart warms in his chest. He really is so lucky.

“So are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna unlock the door?” Nick chuckles at the lovestruck expression on Noah’s face, and even more so at the way he snaps out of it. By now, he’s grabbed his coat and he’s just about to leave his house.

“Yeah! Yeah. I’ll go do that.”

“See you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too, Nick.” Call ended.

That night, Noah’s fingers are idly tracing the moon patterns on each of Nick’s fingers, and he is absolutely certain that there truly is no contest; Nicholas Ruffilo will always be far prettier than the moon.

Nick’s free hand plays with Noah’s dark brown locks, and only then does he think he has no preference on how long his hair grows. He’ll play with it like this either way.

The sun and the moon are together just as they should be. Eclipse.

[neutron-stars]

I would first like to start by saying yes to your GC and the anons who are sending in spicy ideas. I have, however, another one.

In this universe all rookies do this for a year, right? Well what if after Rykers rookie year he comes in ready to mesh with the team, a little sad that his time with Vince is done, but accepting and even eyeballing a rookie or two himself.

But then Vince reaches out and pulls him down on his lap, spreads Rykers thighs open with his hands, and palmed Rykers crotch.

"You're still mine pretty boy."

oh HELLO more delicious prompts in my inbox WHAT A TREAT

context for this: in my canon of this verse there's a hierarchy over who gets to use the rookies: cup winners and captains are highest, then alternates, then other hardware winners, then by # of games played. the formal definition of "rookie" in this verse is 82 NHL games played, but if a team has no numerically eligible rookies up then the position of "free use rookie" defaults to the player with the least games played.

full fic eventually but here's a snip under the cut. can be read while listening to mr brightside for best results

Ryker starts to come a little bit undone on the third day of camp. He knows it shouldn’t bother him, but…it’s the new draft pick. Catton, he’s called, and the D-men have taken to calling him “Little Cat”, an obvious play on Lars’ nickname. He’s young, bright, talented. And ever since camp started, Vince has been circling him like a vulture. Ryker can admit it- he’s jealous. For all the teasing and toying and angst the older D-man put him through last year, Ryker misses being Vince’s little plaything. He liked being so blatantly wanted, taken, Vince’s claim so immediate and all-encompassing that there was no doubt among the rest of the room to whom he belonged. As a Cup winner, Vince was high in the hierarchy when it came to using the rookies. He had the right to throw his weight around, and he did. Tye was shared around the room, free use proper for whichever vets wanted him, whenever they wanted him. But Ryker belonged to Vince and only Vince. Vince made sure of that. Ryker watches the two of them now with searing intensity. Vince swirls around Catton, knocking at the kid’s skates, trying to muscle him off the puck. Catton is about Ryker’s height, got the same straight blond hair and blue eyes, and if Ryker lets his eyes unfocus and his mind wander just a little, it’s almost like watching himself in third person. Which Vince made him do once- put his own iPhone down across the room before putting Ryker on all fours and fucking him senseless, then making Ryker watch it back like they were fucking rolling tape. Ryker watches Vince and Catton now, first off the ice, feeling the jealousy simmer hot in his chest. He knows things are different now: Ryker’s got more than half a season under his belt; Ryker’s gonna make the opening night roster; Ryker should probably start thinking about how to play with the rookies for himself, though he knows he’ll be last in the pecking order for the foreseeable future. This is part of becoming a veteran, he tells himself- you can’t have change without loss. Ryker takes more than a few extra laps around the ice to cool his head down before making his way into the locker room. By the time he gets back, the locker room is already half-empty, most of the guys already having made their way into the showers. Prominently featured in his usual spot is Vince, with Catton kneeling- just literally kneeling, no cockwarming or anything- at his feet. Ryker swallows the sinking feeling in his stomach and makes his way quickly to his stall. He faces the wall as he strips off his jersey and shoulder pads with peak efficiency. He doesn’t have to make things harder for himself by looking more than he needs to. As he’s removing his elbow pads, he feels a warm, strong pair of arms wrap themselves around his stomach, pressing Ryker tight against their owner’s chest. He knows it’s Vince- can smell the expensive coconut shampoo Ryker once made the mistake of using. Vince’s arms spin Ryker around in one fluid motion so he’s facing forward and plopped down on top of the vet’s lap. “What- what are you doing?” Ryker asks, even as he relishes the way his stomach swoops. Across the room, Catton is staring at the two of them with wide eyes. Good, Ryker thinks. Let him watch. “Did you miss me, baby?” Vince whispers in his ear, planting a kiss to the back of Ryker’s neck. He snakes his hands up Ryker’s chest, cupping his pecs, rubbing thumbs over his nipples. Vince used to call them his tits, loved to play with them, dress Ryker up in pretty lace and call him babygirl. Ryker lets his eyes fall shut as he tries to keep himself from squirming. “I’m- I’m not a rookie anymore,” he breathes, in case Vince had forgotten. Ryker desperately hopes Vince won’t care. “You haven’t played 82 games yet, so you still count,” Vince croons, nibbling at Ryker’s ear, and Ryker thinks it’s the sweetest thing the man has ever said to him. “Not even 40 yet, right? Plus, until you get yourself a cup-” Vince nips hard, causing Ryker to squeak- “I’ll always pull rank over you, pretty boy. You’re mine.” Ryker’s dick kicks in his jock.

[archivalofsins]

Gunsli as a Mikoto enjoyer you must be losing your shit now that his second trial is drawing closer and closer! You're going to avidly defend him, right?

Meanwhile

Me *carrying a large stick around the panopticon*: FUTA, MU I JUST WANT TO TALK COME OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!

Futa & Mu: We're not on trial anymore-

Me: The phones...

Them: Huh?

Me: WHOSE FUCKING PHONES ARE THESE?!

Them: ?!

Me:

Well?! Any answers?

Mu: You already did this with me during my trial?!

Yeah, it wasn't really about you it was just for the bit-

So, huh Futa?! Huh whose phone, is it?! Because I know this isn't your phone for several reasons!

So, let's run this down from the beginning-

Question 1

Which cellphone is Futa's?

Sorry, to disappoint but in the battle between iPhone and Android Futa is firmly on the side of Android.

This is made abundantly clear by the fact that unlike Yuno who owns wireless earbuds, Futa's owns wired ones. Something not supported on Apple devices since 2016.

So, why did someone who owns an android phone have what appears to be an Apple charger plugged into his laptop near that flash drive? Well chances are he hooked up that iPhone to his computer to get some information off the phone, erase that information, then move it from his laptop to that flash drive.

We also know this iPhone isn't Futa's because he displays the UI of his actual phone while looking through the color inverted version of twitter-

At which point we can see his UI is completely different from the phone we see breaking at the end of Bring It On.

Futa's phone is also put on full display at the beginning of Bring It On and in other instances showing multiple physical discrepancies between it and the phone that breaks at the end.

From camera placement to general make of the phone and the brightness on the red of the phone case. All things that have remained consistent over the course of Milgram. Making it more apparent which phone is his.

Question two,

Why would Futa take someone else's phone and what information could he need?

He states what he needs and what he's using the phone for at the beginning of Bring It On,

"Found one…! Countdown till I make you say sorry. Let’s go! A victory march! Dan-Da-Dan. Eat this! Don’t act like you have no idea! We won’t forgive you. You’re the crazy one! Ban-Ba-Bang." - "All evil hypocrites should disappear. I won’t stop until you say “sorry”. Now let’s begin to hunt down the liars."

He's using it to get information on the people involved in the incident and track them down.

The rest of the members of the party he was working with for a time. That ended up putting all the blame for that incident on him. This is probably why he's not hanging out with them when he goes to the arcade and is instead watching from a distance.

Using the situation to get rid of two people at once since the hat girl was possibly involved with the group as well hence the line,

"Flames closing in, are both sides losers?"

"Fuck it! You won’t be forgiven; it was stupid licking each other’s wounds." - "You can’t escape, how do you like the taste of punishment." - "You gotta be kidding, I’m an undead hero!"

I've already speculated that Futa's murder was the result of him reacting to the outcome of the hat girl situation and that Futa and this other victim were a part of the same group before.

(I have made way too many posts on Futa: X, X, X, X, X, X, X and many more. Back to the topic at hand though.)

However, the hat girl could have been uninvolved with the group as well. Yet, taking into consideration the very targeted and extreme harassment the group is depicted doing in Backdraft while Futa is looking on in shock and terror I think it's hard for me to not consider this being personal in some way.

That display perfectly calls back to these lines of Futa's in Bring It On,

"I won’t stop until you say “sorry”." - "Now, let’s be reasonable. We are the ones that blow the horn for justice. We will punish you down, this is a warning."

Futa has made it abundantly clear he only does this until the other party apologizes or backs down. Something the hat girl was already doing while the others continued to attack her anyway.

In Backdraft, Futa also spray paints the ones who did this in black as they were doing it. Then we see their tags on the image of the victims have been spray painted over on the wall with black as well once it cuts to the girl.

Black is used as the color to highlight the words on Futa's second trial CD as well,

I believe this color is being used to highlight Futa's version of justice. Just as he says in the voice drama that Es and him are no different, both simply stating that something was bad and things going out of control.

Adding to this Es (and the audiences) judgement of Futa is represented with the same color at the end. As if visually stating the judgement the audience gave to Futa should actually be given to these people instead and reiterating the little difference Futa sees between what he did and what Es and the audience is doing now.

Backdraft even going as far as to have the eyes behind Es be the same color as the spray paint, the people in the group are portrayed using to harass that girl. Making it seem as though by punishing Futa we're supporting the people who did this instead of the other way around.

This makes Futa's question of,

"Should I succumb, make your wish come true?"

Come off as though he's not only speaking about Milgram (Es, and the audience), but the others involved in the harassment of that girl who may have begun doing the same to Futa hoping he'd react in a similar way to their previous victim.

Something alluded to through this image and messages at the end of Bring It On.

QRT Storm Pazuzu　（＝Futa）            I think I’ve got all her details now. Based on her previous tweets I’ve worked out her school. The fact she lives so close is hilarious lol Judgement☨Onizuka You’re the worst offender of all.

"Full of yourselves, are you?" - "Bye bye idiots and devils with the faces of angels." - "You gotta be kidding! I’m the real hero!" - "You gotta be kidding, I’m an undead hero!" - "You’re the crazy one! Ban-Ba-Bang!"

Also we see in Bring It On through Futa's inverted colored phone screen that his icon looks like blue fire or mirrors JudgementOnizuka's normal colored one and vice versa. Implying some sort of connection between the two of them.

It's also telling that Futa is represented by fire and Onizuka water especially given the repeated line of,

"Can't douse this fire."

Within Backdraft.

The lyrics,

"Don’t get cocky, you in that cypher!"- "Holler-holler from safety, so worthless."

These lines can not only refer to the audience or Es but the people he used to hang out with or individuals getting overzealous/too confident with their harassment online. Something the group he used to be in did.

Backdraft also shows off Futa's willingness to just fight head-to-head about it through the line.

"The fight’s up here! Come up to the ring and face me!"

"You won’t be forgiven, a coward, never!"

Question 3

How did he get the phone? Whose is it?

"Are both sides losers?" - "The fact she lives so close is hilarious lol."

It's more than likely the hat girl's phone. Just like the phone we see get smashed in After Pain appears to have belonged to Mu's victim and former friend. Once again, making this another way Futa and Mu parallel each other and why they were paired up.

If the hat girl were also in the group or followers of these people before she began getting harassed, Futa would have an easier time looking over, keeping up with, and figuring out who was responsible for the harassment. That is if he did get her phone after she died.

It would also be similar to how Mu's victim seems to have been involved with Mu or the friend group Mu was in before she passed away as well. However, the phone could belong to Futa's actual victim then when we see it falling to the ground and breaking in Bring It On could be during the altercation portrayed in Undercover.

One thing is for sure Futa and Mu both use breaking phones as imagery for silencing others-

That and they both have a very firm grasp of framing.

Futa would still be able to look over old interactions he was in from his own phone. So, like with Mu in After Pain and It's Not My Fault there may be some playing around with time. In fact, I think there may be playing around with time present in all the prisoner's music videos that becomes more overt depending on the prisoner's personality.

In Futa's case, this is probably why the interactions on his own phone have those inverted colors while the interactions on the one we see break later does not. This coloring choice could denote that these interactions happened before what we are witnessing now. You know how flash backs are usually put in grey or muted colors.

Just as it's implied through After Pain that the messages on Mu's phone happened before her bullying. Futa just goes about displaying this in a vaguer manner.

There are also these things from Bring It On as well that I covered elsewhere before, but I believe it was in reply to someone else's post or something because I can't find it in my archive.

These read,

WARNING [FUTA'S TWITTER ICON] "CONGRATULATIONS [REDACTED]! YOU BROUGHT JUSTICE TO THE WORLD!!! CONGRATULATIONS [REDACTED]? YOU BROUGHT JUSTICE TO THE WORLD???" WARNING [FUTA'S TWITTER ICON] CONGRATULATIONS [REDACTED] YOU BROUGHT [REDACTED] TO THE WORLD!!! CONGRATULATIONS [REDACTED]? YOUR BROUGHT [REDACTED] TO THE WORLD???

I also mentioned this before with this but again can't find it but on the map during the final fight we can see Futa's indicator moving away while appearing to spawn back in.

Also the D in world is styled after his twitter icon-

And at the beginning of Bring It On his phone switches between the Bring It On screen and his twitter feed each time the video glitches before he heads out-

So, yeah- Some credit for all the work Futa did trial one trying to cover up the truth is long overdue.

Whelp that's it. Fuck you Futa for pulling one over on me though really thought that was his phone he dropped.

[onthisrotation]

coachella 2025 day 1 weekend 1 thoughts:

this coachella stream is already fucking fantastic. nothing like thee sacred souls starting off my picks for the night. they’ve got such an old school feel to them that’s very nostalgic to me in the way that i feel like my mom would be into them. deff need to listen to them more.

from there i hopped over to mojave for lola young and outdoor and three six mafia’s sets and i’m sooooo happy i have the ease of going from set to set from my bedroom holy shit. both are good picks to go earlier in the day. glad i made it back in the time to hear lola young’s messy. i’ve fallen for this song harder each time i’ve heard it on the radio. i do think lola was slightly to early in singing with the band though but she’s got a great voice.

the go-go’s sounded really cool at the outdoor theater. at this point i saw that there’s an app for livestreaming coachella. to whoever created this app: i hope your pillows are extra cold for you whenever you decide to go to bed. i went ahead and selected who im excited to see for this entire weekend. some of my stress? alleviated. especially with the time difference. goodbye google tab with the pst to est time converter and reddit schedule!

i was going off of my intuition when i switched over to coco & breezy x kaleena zanders. what a fucking vibe. i was kind of sad i had to leave to go to marina on my iphone and ravyn lenae on my ipad (i do the multiple screens thing lmao) despite knowing i could rewind. but i didn’t want to fall too behind. i was waiting for rayvn kind of all day, so she took priority at the moment. she sounds like a goddess live and i spoiled myself with sticky while rewinding, so i almost screamed lmao. that was the first song i heard from her and still one of my favorites. it really hit hearing it live.

i was really sad d4vd was going at the same time. i’ve heard a few songs of his that i really like a lot. hoping id have time to rewind for his set, but not anytime soon, because djo will be on soon. a must see. meanwhile it feels like rayvn is personally punishing me for not listening to her newest album just yet. i’ll listen to it soon. it’s just soooo many albums for me to hear, new and old. but her album is on the list!

i willingly fell behind for d4vd, though. i was still hearing a little bit of his set during rayvn’s and i said to myself “bitch i’m sorry” it was my first time hearing take me to the sun and holy shit. what an opener. aside from the few songs i’ve downloaded, i know his music is right up my alley. djo is calling me, but i’m stuck in a trance. the chords on the electric guitar are hypnotic. makes me want to learn how to play it on my electric myself. there’s no way i can leave right now.

i’ve got fucking lasagna waiting for me that i can’t get up and eat. like come on man.

but him bringing out his little sister???? my heart?????? hearing her sing here with me with him almost made me cry. amazing set.

right after that i ran to djo. i’m shaking with excitement, especially with them starting with runner into gloom. i’m about to have a fucking party. the entire band, joe included, just has really good energy. you can tell they’re having so much fun out there. on top of that the music sounds glorious live. their newest and first albums are also on my list. i’ve had so much fun with decide (it’s one of ky favorite albums probably ever) that i haven’t been able to move on. it was kind of a given they would perform chateau, but man is this song good.

djo’s set ended just in time for me to watch tyla’s set, then the marías. i needed to hear carino and that sexy ass baseline. so happy tyla started with push to start since i’ve been addicted to that song too and is a serious ear worm. she’s got such a pretty tone and i like to watch her dance. her set is perfect for ushering in the warmer weather. safer is a highlight for me, the bass was infectious and further cemented the summer vibes for me. her jumping into the mini pool at the end with the bubbles was adorable, haha.

now, onto the marías. already from the start of the set i feel like they’ve had the best use of the stage so far in terms of environment, the set design was so cool. i also missed hearing them in a live setting from their camp flagnaw set. maría’s look was one of the best i’ve seen during my time streaming, the dress with the layered necklaces and chunky boots is a+++. i probably had the most fun jamming out to their set honestly. there’s such an ethereal feeling to their music. definitely worth the wait.

i did fall asleep after the marías, but i swear, i fought to catch missy elliot. i was defeated though, so that is on the list for the morning. one of the first things i did when i woke up and got ready for the day? went to the main stage stream! there was no way i was waiting until next weekend to catch lady gaga! i caught some of benson boone’s set after hearing some good things, and stayed for bohemian rhapsody. he really impressed me and gets a leg up for covering one of the best songs ever made, and with queen’s own guitarist too. but i immediately rewinded for gaga after. i can catch his full set next week.

i just listened to the fame earlier this week, and it’s still one of my favorite albums. it was huge when i was in middle school, still exploring the world of pop music while being nurtured by all of the songs i heard as an avid disney channel fan. but for this set, i loved her starting with bloody mary. i missed this side of lady gaga, a masterclass of melodic theatrics and art. going right into abracadabra i was almost screaming. add this one to the list of songs i’m addicted to.

the choreography during poker face was so freaking cool. it was a battle with everyone almost acting as chess pieces, dancers getting knocked out left and right as gaga battles the queen. i screamed “WHAT” when they were literally burying ol’ girl while the dancers were going off at the same time. great storyline for this stage.

i love when artists sort of update their older songs to fit the growth they’ve experienced over the years, as gaga had done with paparazzi. such a good performance. i hope zombie boy continues to get all of the love it deserves, because that song is so much fun. never thought i’d see her dancing with a skull to this one, but here we are haha.

ending with bad romance was perfection. the whole set was perfection. lady gaga performed with such ease, and that’s what the entire stage gave. everything was spot on and a great display of gaga’s artistry. of all the three years i’ve been home streaming coachella, this was one of the best performances i’ve watched. it feels like she really catered her performance to us streaming at home so that was appreciated.

mustard and missy elliot were next on the list right after glorilla. i just saw her perform live last week at dreamville (youtube video will be coming soon!!!) and i’m still sat for her performance at coachella. she’s extremely cute to me for some reason and i’m really happy she’s really going up. also…. did missy elliot come out in a transformers suit? she has soooo much energy it’s refreshing and she looks amazing. her set was really nostalgic too. so much fun to hear all the songs my parents would play while i was growing up but live. kind of didn’t want her to stop performing lol. missy also had some of my favorite transitions during costume changes.

i’ve heard rumors of mustard being the opener for the kendrick lamar and sza tour. if so i’m definitely here for it. his set was a good time. i love watching him hop around the stage lol. he has such golden retriever energy at times that makes it evident he’s happy to be here. love to see it.

i have to say that coachella livestream app saved my ass severely. i pretty much saw everyone i wanted to see with the exception of marina and julie, which i’ll be checking their entire sets out next week. while i usually get overstimulated with multiple things going on at once when it comes to phones and tvs and ipads, this was worth it haha.

day 1 was awesome and i can’t wait until day 2 starts!

[hannahssimblr]

Mom clears her throat. “We’ve been discussing what’s next for you regarding your college expenses.”

And slowly, my blood drains. “Yeah?”

“And we think it’s best that we not contribute to your lifestyle any longer.”

“Um?”

“You’ve shown a total lack of responsibility.” Dad declares. “Not just this summer, but overall. You’re spoiled, ungrateful, and completely unable to manage yourself. We’ve decided that it’s best that you learn how to be an adult the hard way.”

“The hard way?” What does that include? Single parenthood?

“You’ll pay your own fees, your own rent, bills and all other expenses.”

“The idea,” Mom says, “Is that you’ll learn to budget, save and manage your own money, without relying on us to cover your costs all the time. It’s clear we’ve been enabling you for too long.”

“Enabling me?”

“Yes. You’ve become spoiled and ungrateful.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m more than grateful.”

She rolls her eyes. 

I scoff, “I’m grateful! Jesus! I’m grateful for the iPhone! Thank you, okay? I’ve always wanted one. I’m so happy. Now, do you want me to pay you back for that, too?”

“It’s a gift.”

“Ill advised,” Dad adds. “If we had received the gas bill earlier, we wouldn’t have bought it. You can be sure of that.”

“Well, nice. Wonderful. Thank you.”

Mom shakes her head. “Don’t be like that.”

“I said thank you.”

“Don’t take us for fools. You don’t mean it. That’s the thing, and after everything we’ve done for you. We’ve fed you, given you a bed, bought your clothes and your school books-”

“Do you want to be paid back for those, too? Am I in debt for being born? That was your choice, not mine!”

Her face goes dark red. “You think this was a choice for me?” 

“No! But it was your choice to have another, wasn’t it? And it was your choice to move me out of the home where I was happy.”

“You were happy because you were a child! Children don’t know any better.”

“No, I was happy because Maureen cared for me, and would never ask me to pay her back for the… the baby formula, and the diapers and the yarn she used to knit my little tiny fucking sweaters, would she?”

“That woman is not your mother!” She shrieks. “I am your mother.”

“Then act like it!” I scream back, and my voice tears at my throat. “For once in your life, please! Instead of throwing your money at me and buying these expensive gifts, as though the car or the phone is going to parent me instead, and then you get angry with me for being spoiled. Who spoiled me? Huh? Who? I don’t want any of this stuff. I never did.”

The piano lid slams shut, and I hear Ivy’s feet scurry up the stairs. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mom hisses. “There’s not a teenager in the country who wouldn’t want what you have.”

“You’re delusional if you think that.”

“I’m delusional?”

“Did you not hear me? Yeah, you are. And also-”

“Enough!” Dad bellows. “Aside from having no respect for your parents-”

“Respect?” I scoff. “Respect is earned, not-”

“I said aside from that-”

“You can’t just shout me down! You have to let me speak!”

“This is my house!” he roars with a ferocity that could make the windows shake in their frames. “I won’t be spoken to like this under my own roof. Neither I nor your mother, do you hear me?”

I shut my mouth. 

“You will go to Berlin, as you insisted, and you will earn your own money and pay your own bills, like everybody else has to do. This is nonnegotiable. Do you understand me?”

I swallow hard. “But how am I supposed to do that?”

“We’ve done you enough favours until now. You’ll get by on the earnings from the Volkswagen for a while, and after that, well, you can just figure it out.”

“You expect me to get a job in a country where they don’t speak my first language, with no history of work?”

Mom purses her lips. “It’s your fault you don’t have experience, not ours,” which is such an egregiously untrue statement to make that I would laugh if I didn’t know better. I don’t push the subject, or dare mention Ivy while she’s in the same house. Perhaps, if I was feeling braver, or stupider, I don’t know, I would mention that my only work experience is that of an au pair, a nanny, a childminder, but seeing as my father is still bursting with rage as steam rises rather theatrically from the integrated dishwasher next to him, it seems best to keep my mouth buttoned. 

“You know, this is what estranges people from their parents.” I say. Their expressions do not change.

“You’ll get over it.” Mom says simply, and after fixing her hair, she checks her little gold watch. “I have to get back to work, so I’m going to go.”

There’s more I could say. I could sneer as I asked her if Fergal was going to be there, if it’s really me that’s the problem in this household, or something else, something weird and rotten at the core of it, but I don’t. From a dining chair, she snatches her handbag, and marches into the hall, the click clack of her heeled shoes echoing all the way to the door. 

“Enjoy your phone,” she says before slamming it shut behind her.

Beginning // Prev // Next