#tagged 🤍

[bejeweleds]

my darling @ashmp3 tagged me in the cutest picrew avatar maker!!! this was soooo cute i genuinely did not realise it was seventeen related until the very end and i was like damn these are seventeen song names and then it hit me like a brick </3333 i shall tag @irlvernon @bisexualgyu @heetonin @taetheists @sunny-reis @fireworksgalaxy @moonsua @kwonhochi

[serendipminie]

Picrew Tag Game!

I was tagged by @odeblr to cattify myself using this picrew! Thank you so much, Ezra :)

The blue spots represent the streaks of blue I currently have in my hair! The glasses on my cat self are almost identical to my real ones, so I couldn't not use them :)

I will tag @jongside, @faceglitchsworld, @solaysa, @snoos-tattoos, @seohosincerely, @toxicrevolver, @luvrli, @shadow-of-tea-and-tea, @littlebookworm69, @asoulsreverie and @chronosik only if you want! As always, if you see this and would like to do it too, feel more than welcome!

[150mgsertraline]

I need nooks and cranny’s for my activities

[macaulaytwins]

“my pussy has taken me places I wouldn’t go with a gun”

the places in question:

[bratfiction]

18+ CONTENT — MDNI. warnings -> taboo content [stepcest], age gap, spoiled!reader, noncon [somno], use of daddy. please read at your own risk.

step-daddy simon… mind you, you’ve really only known him for a few years. maybe five; who’s counting?

you were on your way out the door, heading to college and starting your life as a young adult, by the time he entered the picture. by the time your mom decided to find someone and remarry. the rugged, tattooed and quite frankly terrifyingly built man known as simon— your stepfather, or whatever.

it took you awhile to wrap your head around it. thankfully you weren’t in the house enough to truly care. you were attending sweaty house parties and making microwave meals in your luxury dorm while the two of them had screaming matches in the otherwise empty dining room.

until you come back for the holidays.

there’s tinsel and garland on every inch of the house. the scent of cinnamon and spiced apples is in the air, your nose scrunches up— all this to cover up the misery that hangs around in the balance. the rainbow lights on the artificial tree that’s smack dab in the living room are borderline blinding. this is home for the next few weeks, but not your home.

you’re not comfortable here. you cant help but notice the overwhelmingly fond gaze on you, warm irises pooling with something that you’re too frightened to call love.

“i hope y’haven’t been getting into too much trouble on campus,” his voice is deep. gravelly. makes you finally look up from the book in your lap.

and you promise you haven’t. he’s paying for that nice apartment you’re living in, after all. you suppose you owe him something. whether it’s your best behavior, or not making a single peep when he sneaks into your room at night. large, rough hands groping your form beneath your soft blankets, squeezing your waist with intent to cause you to stir and wake you up.

“simon,” you whisper into the dark, warm room. only to be promptly shushed with a gentle but messy kiss, pressed to the side of your face to pacify you.

“sh— it’s only your daddy, baby.”

except he’s not your daddy. and he never will be. you haven’t seen your old man in god knows how long. and if he thinks coddling you and stuffing you full of his heavy dick is gonna fix that, he’s wrong. but fuck… it may come close. your eyes roll back before he even eases the first inch into you. you tremble when he yanks your soft panties down the curve of your ass, the material of his boxers rubs against your cheeks before the fat tip of his cock glides through your glossy folds.

you lay your head back down against your pillow in a delicate form of defeat, sighing through your nose— daddy. sure, he can be your daddy. maybe it’ll make your weeks in this house more tolerable, considering you’re already hooked on the feeling of his rough hands caressing your plialble skin. let alone the way his cock stretches your pretty cunt more than any fuck you’ve had in the past year.

you can get used to being a daddy’s girl…

[cchuu]

Howl’s Moving Castle ハウルの動く城 2004 | dir. Hayao Miyazaki

[jervis-tetch-my-beloved]

i don’t play video games

[formulapisces]

reblog or <horrific thing will happen to parent>

reblog to get <specific amount of money>

reblog for <luck and something about a crush>

reblog if you aren’t <racist, homophobic, etc>

reblog or else <terrible tragedy happens>

reblog if you care about <obviously a good cause but is baiting you to look like a horrible person if you don’t reblog it>

SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP

[chai-berries]

click here if you love abby anderson, support palestine, and/or identify as a lesbian <3

[adoraboy-moved]

"people with (disorder) not bad cause not feel empathy, can still feel compassion/sympathy/etc.!" but what about people who not feel those? i dunno, am just think, maybe not bad because choose not be bad people. even if bad, still deserve understanding, yknow ? to get better.

[bejeweleds]

GIF REMAKE CHALLENGE ❤️

📩 remake someone's else colouring, sharpening, slowing, and resizing. do your best to get close to the original and share how you did. make a new gif to challenge those you tag to recreate. share the source video if possible! try not to tell those you tagged anything to help them; see what they can figure out and how close they get on their own! if you're tagged in several, you can do one or all, whatever you like! if they have a giffing tutorial, shared actions, etc., you can use that to aid your recreation!

i was tagged by ngoc ( @jeonghan-yoons ) and rose ( @lee-haechan ) to recreate their gorgeous gifs!! i had so much fun trying to replicate ngoc’s pretty blue/purple colours and ready to love will always be an iconic era 🥹 im always going to bow down to rose’s colouring because i have no idea how she fixed the grey/blue wash over the jake fancam and i was baffled with how gorgeous and crisp her sharpening was, so i’m sorry in advance that i had nooo idea how she made hers so pretty 😭

anyway i’m also sorry in advance for the one i chose :D but i tried to drop as many tips and tutorials as i can to keep it simple (the trick is in the screen blending mode!)

video source: hot music video timestamps:  — base gif with silhouettes: 0:37-00:39 — overlay gif with jun and mingyu: 02:42-02:44 font used: magazine letter by brnt regular tutorials: blending tutorial #1 blending tutorial #2 gradient text sharpening

i’m tagging @lee-haechan @jeonghan-yoons @sugarushride @wnjunhui @solojihyo @wonufied @boochans and @smingi <3 also if anyone else wants to recreate mine PLEASE go for it!

[flowercrowngods]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 07: free space a happy ending

Wakefulness embraces him so slowly and gently that Steve’s not entirely sure he isn’t dreaming when he sees Eddie lying next to him, watching him with an easy smile as his fingers tap out a slow beat on his pillow. Steve looks at him, blinking away the remnants of sleep, not quite daring to do anything more than that for fear of it being a dream after all, scared that Eddie would disappear if Steve reached out to touch. 

But then Eddie’s smile widens. “Good morning, sunshine.” 

Steve gasps a little and moves his hand to Eddie’s cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, his breath hitching when Eddie leans into the touch. 

“You’re here,” he whispers, his gaze wandering over Eddie’s features, taking it all in and looking for any indication that this is a dream. 

Eddie hums. “And you’re pretty.” 

It hits him out of nowhere, the open sincerity in Eddie’s voice, the fondness in his eyes, the honesty in everything about him. The love, open and free now — or getting there, at least. It’s still so raw, though, so new, that Steve doesn’t know how to handle it yet. 

“Shut up,” he huffs once he’s caught his breath, rolling over to hide his face and the way his cheeks are heating up. He rolls right into Eddie's chest, though, and he's so warm, so close, smells so good that Steve wants nothing more than to bury his face in his neck and stay there for the rest of the morning. Or maybe the rest of his life.

The reflex to pull away is there. The urge to run and hide, to laugh it off, to freeze up and find something else to do, something to occupy his hands and stop them from reaching for Eddie. Years and years of muscle memory telling Steve to leave. 

But Eddie's arms come around him, holding him close and pulling him even closer. And Steve breathes him in, remembering that it can be okay. Remembering that they get a chance now. 

Remembering the words. 

What are you doing? 

Changing the world. 

So he tries that, too. Changing the world. He tries by winding his arms around Eddie, too, and breathing in again and again, learning that Eddie won't disappear if he does. 

Slowly, he dares to move his arms, stroking along Eddie's back in slow, gentle patterns, lulling himself into a safety he hasn't felt in a while. Maybe ever. At some point Eddie begins to hum, and Steve thinks that it's just another one of his audible smiles, inviting Steve and the rest of the world to join in if they're so inclined. But then he detects a familiar melody in the vibrations of Eddie's neck against his skin, and he holds his breath to find out what it is. 

His heart jumps when he recognises the song as one he used to listen to on repeat like a lovesick fool around the time his feelings for Eddie turned into something more, something better, something infinitely worse. 

It skips and he forgets how to breathe as he lets his hands travel over Eddie's back, slowly and tentatively daring to slip underneath his shirt and touch his skin. 

Eddie begins to sing, then, and Steve wonders if he's even been in love with him before, because nothing of what he's ever felt compares to Eddie's gentle, hoarse, sleep-rough voice as he sings Somebody to Steve, to their little bubble, or to the world outside. 

"I want somebody to share, share the rest of my lifeShare my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details."

He closes his eyes as he listens, focusing on the vibrations, on the warmth, on the closeness, on how this moment is everything he's never even dared to want. Everything so perfect that he couldn't even dream it up. 

Everything. You're everything. 

He needs to be closer still, so be buries his nose in Eddie's neck and breathes him in, tangling their legs, filled with a breathless kind of joyful bliss when Eddie's breath hitches, too, and he stumbles over the words of the second verse as Steve tries to climb into his skin. 

"I want somebody who cares for me passionatelyWith every thought and with every breath."

You have me, Steve thinks, pressing his lips to Eddie's pulse point. It's not a kiss, not quite. It's something deeper. It's a promise. 

Eddie's hands come up to hold him there even as his voice carries through the drumbeat of Steve's heart in his throat, running fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him purr along to the melody. 

"But when I'm asleep I want somebodyWho will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderlyThough things like this make me sickIn a case like this, I'll get away with it."

When the song ends, Eddie's words faded out, replaced once again by the gentlest silence, Steve feels raw. Vulnerable. Open and exposed. But he also feels safe, and loved, buried in Eddie's skin and held there, as though Eddie is just as scared of fading away as Steve is. 

He lifts his head just slightly, enough to meet Eddie's eyes – only to find that they're closed, an expression so serene like Steve has never seen before. Mesmerised and overflowing with affection, he reaches out to trace the line of his brows, down to his cheeks and all the way to his lips, where his eyes are glued for a second. 

The thought of kissing Eddie is right there. The opportunity is, too. But he doesn't. He barely dares to move as it is. But he does roll them over the rest of the way until he lies comfortably on top of Eddie, and tucks his head underneath his chin, finding one of his hands and lacing their fingers. 

"You've got him," he breathes eventually. "That somebody. If you—“ 

"Yes," Eddie says, his other hand finding its way to the nape of Steve's neck to play with his hair again. "I want."

"Good." It's lame; far from what he wants to say. From what he has already said last night. It feels like they're doing this backwards, starting with the I love you and catching up with the slow build-up afterwards. "Good. Me, too." 

"Good," Eddie hums, and there's that smile again that Steve can't help but mirror. 

They fall asleep again like that even though it’s already late in the morning; cuddling and holding and cradling each other, still trembling slightly. Maybe that's what changing the world will do to you. Maybe that's the bravery more than the love. 

Or maybe it's just Steve and Eddie. Steve and Eddie. SteveandEddie. 

I love you. 

~*~

It takes a bit for Steve to relearn loving Eddie. To not associate it with tragedy and sadness and a bone-deep loneliness that'll leave him breathless even on the best of days. 

It takes a while for Steve to learn a whole new kind of breathlessness, a whole new kind of aching when it comes to Eddie. 

And Eddie's not much better than Steve, pulling away when Steve wants him closer, swallowing his words and needing a second, third, fourth try until he learns that he gets to love Steve now. 

Years of unrequited love, or feelings unreturned, of words put out into the universe with no one to receive them, are not easily or quickly unwritten. But every time Steve's breath gets lodged in his throat and he wants to run away, Eddie is right there to remind him of what they can have now. Every time Steve tries to be a little less of who he really is, Eddie is right there to coax him out of his head with gentle touch and a lot of hugs. 

Every time Eddie starts to doubt himself and all the ways he makes Steve the happiest person on the planet, Steve is right there with the words he only has for Eddie. Words that don't get stuck anymore. Words that finally get a recipient. 

~*~

Their first kiss, the first real kiss, doesn't happen that first morning. They spend the first week only holding each other, barely wanting to let go, hiding their vulnerabilities within each other. 

Steve is worried about it at first, seeing Eddie so quiet, so reverent, lacking his usual cheer, his energy and snarky comments. He asks about it one night, ready to prove right that he isn't and can never be enough for him, that all he will do is steal the things that make him Eddie. 

Eddie stops then, lifting Steve's chin with a finger when he's too scared, too ashamed, too vulnerable to meet his eyes on his own accord. 

"Stevie," Eddie says, his voice so gentle that Steve immediately feels stupid for doubting. "I have loved you for ten years. I've had you for three days. Let me bask in it. Let me be unable to be myself with how absolutely and utterly overcome I am with the knowledge that I have you now. That I get to hold you. That I get to kiss you and keep you and... God. I'm not unhappy. I'm so much the opposite of that that I'm not sure there's a word for it. Other than devoted. Smitten. Bewitched, body and soul."

Steve wants to kiss him then. Almost does, with the way they're just staring at each other, breathing the same air —air that smells like Eddie now. In the end, Eddie just holds him, brushing a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, his temple, and whispers, "Let me bask in it." 

And so they do. 

Wayne called Eddie not long after with the words, "Chrissy just told me the wedding's off. Please tell me that means what I think it means." 

Eddie just blushed, reaching for Steve, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah, I, uh. I finally talked to Steve."

There was a very loud cheer on the other end that made Steve laugh, falling into Eddie's side, holding him tight, a weight falling off his shoulders knowing that Wayne was okay with them. 

You know, I always figured it would be you. 

No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me.

It made his eyes sting again, but he basked in the moment and in the knowledge that Wayne was on their side. Always has been, always will be. 

"You better come here on Sunday, and bring Robin and Chrissy, too." 

"Robs and Chrissy?" Eddie asked. 

"Oh, you're in for a treat. I'll see your asses on Sunday, boys." 

And with that, he hung up. Steve immediately went to call Robin, hopeful and giddy with Wayne's implication, knowing that Chrissy was Robin's person just like Eddie was his. 

"She loves me," Robin said, on the verge of tears, and Steve joined here right then and there. "She's– Steve. She's so– She... God!" 

"Yeah," Steve laughed at the ceiling above his bed, grinning because Robin sounded so happy, not even caring that she didn't have the right words for it, because he could hear Chrissy laughing in the background, too. Laughing and saying hi to him and interrupting Robin's ramblings and groans and giggles with kisses that always left her dumbstruck for a good two seconds each time. 

When the call ended, he went right back to the living room, where he and Eddie started watching Pride and Prejudice before, and fell right on top of him with a happy, happy smile. 

~*~

It happens at Wayne's, exactly one week after Eddie showed up at Steve's in the middle of the night. One week after the phone call. One week after I love you. 

It happens in the soft glow of the fairy lights Steve and Eddie helped him put up years ago. I happens after Wayne hugged him tight once more, after he pulled Chrissy to the side and promised her that she's still his kid, that he still loves her, and that he's happy to see her smile like that. After he promised the same to Robin.

It happens when Wayne's inside to refill their drinks and Chrissy and Robin are caught up in each other that they're blind and deaf to the rest of the world. When Steve turns to find Eddie looking at him with the softest, gentlest expression. 

"Eddie," he whispers, leaning in to rest their heads together, lacing their fingers and stroking his thumb along Eddie's palm.

"Yeah, baby?" 

Baby. It fills him with butterflies, with the urge to scream, to shout from all the rooftops that he loves Eddie, and more importantly, that Eddie loves him back! Baby. Baby.

"I love you." 

"Hmm. I love you more." 

No, you don't. Just longer. "Can I kiss you?" 

He can feel Eddie's little gasp before he leans in even closer, rubbing their noses together, cradling Steve's face with his free hand. "Please," he whispers. 

And Steve does. He captures Eddie's lips, pouring into it everything he feels and more. Sealing the promises he's made and all the ones he's yet to make. The promises to love and cherish Eddie. To be brave. To be there. To stay and keep and bask. 

It's nothing like their first kiss all those years ago. There is no question behind it this time. Only declarations, only promises, only the beginning of a shared future. 

And there are many, many more after this one.

🌷🤍🌷 THE END 🌷🤍🌷

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar @scheodingers-muppet @morcantinon @hexdbog @homosexualhomocide13

god i can't believe it's over. i thank you, every one of you, who cheered for me, cried with me, screamed and yelled at me, and stayed with me throughout this past week. i have no words right now other than thank you 🤍🌷 and i hope this is okay

[superfruitland]

a mini comic i sketched based on a convo i had with a mutual the other night 🤍

and i quote, "kinnie moment".

[alexandria-alexis]

Love how the f1 rpf fics are either EVERYONE’S GAY, nobody question why every man in the paddock is with another one of their teammates intimately, or one pair is together and it’s either a massive scandal when it’s out or they keep it the best known secret ever.

[bratfiction]

i need loser konig bad like so bad i can imagine he prob had his eye on reader for months before she ever even talked to him

anon. i’m foaming at the mouth.

loser könig really does have his eye on you before you even consider approaching him for some extra help in your class :<<< thinks that a pretty girl like you will never ever give him the light of day. especially when you show up to class in your cute little outfits and ignore every boy on campus who’s obviously fawning over you. having you beside him or sitting on his lap is a pipe dream, and he’s sure of that.

it becomes a subconscious obsession. every time he sees you, he can’t help but stare. you’re either rushing to class or doing the most mundane things, like reapplying your lip balm and pouting your lips perfectly.

but somehow he doesn’t realize just how much he thinks about you until one night he’s toying around with his favorite flesh-light, stretching the poor thing to it’s absolute limit. huffing and groaning and borderline whining. and your name falls from his lip. load and clear. his ears ring at the sound of his own voice, at the sound of your name. but it sends shocks of pleasure down his strong legs imagining you struggling to bounce on his cock. maybe you’d just collapse against his chest and give up. unable to stop yourself from being used and abused by his cock that’s way too big for you too big for anyone while he fucks up into you.

big guy goes to bed feeling so ashamed after blowing his load over his little campus crush.

[hello7soone]

Hanma sketches for the soul 🥹🫶🏻💛

feel free to use but please with credit!! ♡