#plz disregard this

[spenglerssweetheart]

I DIDNT GET TO ADD A NOTE AT THE END BECAUSE IT WAS BEING SO STUPID IM REALLY SORRY BUT I HOPED YOU ENJOYED THE READING, I LOVE YOU ALL VERY MUCH AND I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT BABY!

#plz disregard this #ghostbusters #last post #askspenglerssweetheart #spenglerssweetheart #teehee

[oqs-art-corner]

obligatory 4/20 post ft. Deimos cuz why not

#madness combat #madcom #deimos madness combat #not signing this with my signature cuz it’s not a serious one #plz disregard the shitty anatomy he’s supposed to be slouching

[thatgirl4815]

Were there any bts photos where he was wearing this shirt? It looks familiar to me and I can't figure out why.

#If not just plz kindly disregard this #but it's ringing a bell for some reason and I can't tell why #only friends #only friends the series #khaotung thanawat #only friends ray #ray pakorn #only friends episode 7 #only friends episode 8

[servobotz]

sorry 2 get a little personal but i just wanna say my older brother unexpectedly passed away sunday night so I’m currently in grieving mode and haven’t added anything to my queue… so I’m sorry for no normus maximus :p

#personal #nonsims #plz disregard

[shardcraft]

A silly little Techno doodle :)

Image description: a digital doodle of Technoblade holding a bowl of soup. A speech bubble next to him reads "Soup, Phil?". End ID.

#technoblade #should i be sleeping? yes #did this on my phones notes app instead #original posts #plz disregard anatomy I don't know her #eta image description #image description

[queenlua]

btw: shape rotators beware: i'm comin for ya

#if you have never heard the term Shape Rotator before plz disregard #i promise it's dumb

[drgstrcowboi]

it's been leo season for a hot minute, but now it's AUGUST so you scorpio and libra men bitches better watch out. move over, it's the sun's turn to shine.

#drgstrchatter #this is kinda satire #i love all the scorpio and libra men #i'm just in my villian era because it's august #plz disregard this unhinged tuesday night text post #ft. dallas and soda #dallas winston is the only scorpio man i haven't dated #and my brother is a libra so i'm allowed to slander them

[skinreflectsthesun]

I feel like people don’t tell you exactly how much your life will change after you have kids. I think they assume that you know this but I honestly thought that my relationships, friendships, my personality, my self in general would all stay the same and I’d just have this little guy with me too, but that’s really just not the case? And I was not ready for that. Not at all.

#personal #and not to be that person who just had negative things to say #but if anyone were to ask me like genuinely ask me and want my honest answer about this then I’d be 100% blunt #it’s incredibly rewarding and I love my kid so much I’ve never felt a love like this before #but I’ve lost myself entirely #my marriage isn’t the same #my relationship with my family isn’t the same #my friendships aren’t the same #I’m exhausted all the time #I’m a dick to those closest to me because I’m exhausted all the time #I feel like I have no help or support #I feel like I don’t want any help or support either because fuck it I will do it all myself I don’t need anyone #I’m misunderstood always #I’m not seen. #no one sees me anymore. #anyways today is not a good day plz disregard this #i’ll probably delete this later

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

I have like ... around 10 oneshot fic drafts involving Donnie on the side and I haven't touched them in a while jajshdhdhd

If you guys have any ideas for something short (sfw or nsfw) involving either Leo, Raph, or Mikey, throw 'em in my askbox. I'll see if I can whip out something over the weekend.

I don't write about the others as much, and that's not fair 🥲

#it's-a-moi #one day I'll finish my Donnie drafts nebdbsjdnfbdhdbjwhdbfhsjdbdhdbsbiejsbsjdh #not too long plz #if it's over detailed and with very specific stuff - i will most probably disregard it #sorry not sorry

[yther]

do you see I am a mirror?

do you recognize yourself? find the monster. it's right here.

see see that you are gone. and only your wickedness remains. relish it, as you must. you must!? this was your dream! bathe in it, see that the horror does not wash away.

(is it all you hoped for?)

see that you are now and forever not yourself. condemned or lauded by others - it matters not.

what remains of you…are simply remains (of who you were before me)

you carry me with you today and all days forward.

(no one is) sorry! brain-bleach isn't real. none of these experiences, intentions, or actions existed in a vacuum. you are changed. now and forever. you already bear this burden.

my name in Ink. may you dream me. may you always stay here. locked inside my vault. my room of keeping, one of many. one of many.

you are part of my mausoleum. do you see yet?

this is your aftermath.

#for those who know not what they seek jk lERL lol you know who you are and no one gives a shit what you want tbh #O HAI #real people plz disregard insofar as to assume this is esoteric to the nth degree. purely poetics :) inane drabble-ish #paracosms n microcosms n ____________ #diatribe kiss my ass adjacent #I added some real narcissism for your roleplaying material #gotta provide constant character “”development“” or descension otherwise this story goes cold eh?

[zmaragdos]

I made paper cut cat portraits for my best friends' birthdays :) I think they turned out really well :)

#Cats #Paper cut #They are visiting me this weekend and I am so excited! #Mar mutters #Plz disregard that you can see me the frame reflection lol

[planetariumthottie]

welcome back my only tumblr crush 💕

😘😘😘 aww who said this don’t be shy!!

[paint-music-with-me]

Like I get s3 concepts - I get it! And the timeline says it's a whole year??? Since??? S2??? But like...."A HEART TO HEART? WHAT IS THAT?!" ARE YOU KIDDING ME HOPPER!??

#mmmmm #just let me complain abt this season #plz #like im annoyed #i rlly hope s4 is worth it bro #like once i get to s4 is2g #if it is better than s3 ill just completely disregard it unless its my fa v scenes #stranger things #blabber time

[crazyforthesupernatural]

I just got tickets to the Bring Me The Horizon tour for 2024 and I am so excited! I don't even really care about BMTH, but Sleep Token is playing too and I am absolutely obsessed with their latest album. Bring Me Back to Eden and Euclid have lines in them that feel like a kick to the chest, the vibes are immaculate and the music is so beautiful that I am beside myself. I have to wait 6 months to see them in person? I'ma go mad before that point! I gotta learn every word to every song. If they play Euclid live, I will be sobbing in the pit. There is no question about it. This album means so much to me, it's actually insane. DYWTYLM makes me want to punch a mirror, because it feels like I'm looking in a mirror when it plays. Just, how does this music rip all of my emotions out of their little jars and smash me over the head with them, repeatedly? It makes my chest ache, and I love it so much. I am VIBRATING with excitement. I just gotta make it to April

#talking to myself #just needed to say it somewhere #here seemed like a good place #plz disregard #personal #sleep token #music #please ignore me

[lovebugism]

Okay soooooooo

How bout something like King Steve picking on shy!reader, then later finding out she has a shitty home life plz

ty for requesting!! this can be read as a prequel to this fic — steve comforts you when he accidentally makes you flinch (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, cw for brief mentions of abuse, 1.8k)

Sitting alone at the Hellfire table, you feel a little like fishbait. 

Your spot in the very back of the cafeteria is normally full and loud — with Dustin’s bickering, and Eddie’s laughing, and Gareth’s stupid jokes — but they’re not here now. They’re off getting their trays while you sit in wait for them (and the cold fries you’ll ultimately steal from Eddie’s plate). It leaves you perfect prey for circling sharks.

You hear laughter from behind you, over the sounds of the bustling lunch room. You’re certain they’re laughing at you — ‘cause you always think someone’s laughing at you — but you try hard to ignore it. You disregard the subtle pang of anxiety in your chest and stick your nose in your book, eyes flitting across the words without reading any of them.

Someone flumps down at your side then, where Mike usually sits. The overwhelming scent of spiced cologne stings your nostrils. With watering eyes, you look beside you. At Tommy fucking Hagan.

“Hey, Wallflower,” he greets like it’s normal — like he hasn’t spent the past four years pretending you don’t exist. You think he only calls you Wallflower now because his friends have been doing it for so long they don’t remember your real name.

The boy props his elbow on the table and puts his chin in his fist, trying hard to hide his boyish beam and accompanying laughter. He fails.

You cower at his presence, all but shrinking into yourself. “…Hi?” you reply in a tiny voice.

“How’s it hangin’?”

“...Fine?”

“That’s great!” he answers instantly, like he hadn’t heard you at all. “You see, my friend Steve, over there— you know him, right?”

You don’t bother to look where he’s pointing. Of course, you know Steve The Hair Harrington. You don’t think there’s a single person in Hawkins who doesn’t.

You nod in response.

Tommy’s smile widens. “Well, he’s got this massive crush on you,” he confesses, choking back a laugh halfway through. “I mean, he talks about you all the time.”

You know he’s lying. And not just because he’s grinning so hard that his eyes are crinkled and his freckled cheeks are turning pink. You’re almost certain Steve Harrington doesn’t even know who you are. He never had a reason to. Why would the King of Hawkins High ever stoop so low to know someone like you?

You glance at him over your shoulder, a couple tables down from you. He’s almost magnetically pretty. You couldn’t ignore him if you tried — with his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his pretty smile. His golden cheeks flush as all his friends start poking fun at him. 

He rolls his eyes and scoffs a laugh you can tell is forced from here. He doesn’t think any of this is funny. You can see it on his face. But he isn’t trying to stop it all from happening. You’re just collateral damage, really.

You turn back to Tommy with a disbelieving look in your eye.

He continues to ramble despite it. “He was just a little nervous coming up to you, that’s all. So I thought I’d do him a favor and slip you his number. You know, as his wingman and all.” He tosses a folded-up index card onto the pages of your opened book. “You should call him tonight— It’ll make his day, I swear.”

He pats you a little too hard on the back before he goes. His laugh echoes over all the rest when he sits back down at his table. You watch them over your shoulder as they fall over themselves to crack jokes about you. 

Steve’s the only one not smiling. “Not cool, Tommy,” he mouths.

—————

Locker 148. The one right across from yours. Property of Steve The Hair Harrington. 

You shove the thick card with his number written on it between the slits in the metal. You’d carried it around all day, utterly unsure of what to do with it. You decided ultimately to return it, figuring he might feel a little better if a total stranger didn’t have his phone number.

You struggle to slide it through the thin gap, though. The paper gets caught halfway through, and you try to yank it back out again. The old locker moves with you, like it’s not completely shut but still somehow latched. 

You’re so in your own head you don’t hear the gymnasium door down the hall squeal open and shut again. Steve pants heavily and tries to recover from a ruthless basketball practice. He hunts for a water fountain and finds you instead.

“What are you doing?” he calls as he nears you, not malicious or unkind but genuinely curious.

Your heart lurches into your throat as you all but jump out of your skin.

Steve laughs, a pretty sound in the silent hallway. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t— I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” you assure with an averted gaze, though your frightened demeanor says otherwise. “I was just— I was trying to give you this.”

You hold the paper out towards him. He takes it with hesitant hands. “What is it?”

“Your number. Tommy gave it to me earlier, and I know it was just a stupid joke, so I… I thought you’d feel more comfortable if I gave it back to you.”

Something in Steve’s chest aches. He doesn’t understand why you would care about what might make him comfortable. It’s not like he ever gave you the time of day — or ever tried to stop his friends from being total assholes. As far as he’s concerned, you’re the last person who should give a shit about him.

“Oh. Right— Yeah… Thanks,” he stammers and shoves the thing into his pocket. “And I’m— I’m sorry about Tommy and everything. He can be a real douchebag sometimes. I didn’t… I didn’t tell him to bother you or anything—”

“I know,” you assure in a mousy voice. “Tommy gave me your number hoping I’d be dumb enough to call while your friends were over so you could all… laugh at me? I guess. He could’ve been a little more original, honestly.”

Steve cracks a smile. He almost laughs, but he can’t tell if you’re joking or not.

“I’ll talk to him later. Tell him to leave you alone—” He rambles and walks closer to you. You watch him with tentative eyes as he approaches. “—He’s a total dumbass sometimes, but he usually means well. Most of the time, anyway—”

Steve raises his hand suddenly. And, because you’re frightened by everything little thing, you flinch and stumble over yourself in the process. The lockers catch your fall, and you hit the back of your head. Hard.

“Shit— Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you squeak, holding the crown of your hair and squinting as your skull pounds.

Steve rushes to your side, then idles just ahead of you because he doesn’t know if you want him touching you. His brows pinch, chiseled features swimming with concern. His cinnamon eyes glitter with it, too. “I wasn’t trying to scare you—”

“It’s okay.”

“—My locker was just jammed. I was going to shut it.”

The metal door is open now, from where it wasn’t shut all the way and where you just smacked your head on it.

“I just wasn’t expecting it,” you assure in a tight voice, trying hard to ignore the sharp throbbing. “It’s fine. I’m fine—”

“You’re hurt.”

“It’ll go away—”

“Let me get you an icepack.”

“—I’ll be fine once I get home.”

Steve, feeling purely at fault and aching at how effortlessly you shrug him off, decides to approach you fully. He curls a warm hand around the outside of your elbow. A touch surprisingly gentle. “No. C’mon. Let me help.”

You don’t feel much like you’re in any position to fight him about it. Not with the world still swaying under your feet. 

Steve guides you the short distance to the empty cafeteria. Slow and kind and dreadfully patient. He sits you down, makes sure you’re still okay, and then rushes to fix you a makeshift icepack — a ziplock bag filled to the brim with chipped ice.

He sits at the chair beside yours, slightly askew so his knees bump your thighs. He holds the pack to the crown of your head and gazes at you attentively. You’re not looking back at him to see it.

“Does it still hurt?”

You shrug, eyes flitted to the wringing hands in your lap. “It’s fine. It just feels a little like I have a migraine.”

Steve winces. “I’m sorry.”

Your doe eyes peek at him from beneath your lashes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I scared you.”

“Everything scares me.”

It’s a dumb joke. You mean it, but you still expect him to laugh about it. He doesn’t even crack a smile, though. He just keeps looking at you with that puppy-like twist to his features. The worry is evident in his face. 

“Do you wanna, like, talk about it or something?”

“About what?”

“Why you flinched.”

You freeze, breath hitching in your throat. No one’s ever noticed your incessant panic — outside of making jokes about it anyway. No one’s cared enough to ask about it, either. Steve Harrington is the last person you expected any kind of concern from.

You shake your head after a few long moments. “No.”

“You could,” Steve assures, suddenly shy. You didn’t know he could be anything other than totally full of himself. “You know, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t tell anyone—”

You scoff a disbelieving laugh.

Steve’s features swirl with hurt. You hate that it makes your chest ache. You hate most that he hasn’t stopped being soft with you. The hand holding the pack to your head hasn’t yet wavered, even though you know his arm must be tired now.

“I wouldn’t. ‘Cause I— I know what it’s like to… to have a bad home life or whatever,” he confesses, stammering hopelessly. He forces a laugh at himself. “Probably more than most people do, honestly.”

His admission takes you by surprise. It comforts you in a way you didn’t think someone like him could. 

Even still, you shake your head. “I— I can’t—” you murmur, clearing your throat when the words get stuck there. “I can’t talk about it…”

Steve nods, firm and reassuring. “That’s okay. You don’t have to, I was just… I was just saying, you know? I get it.”

You swallow through a tight throat, nodding wordlessly in response.

“Plus, you know, you have my number and everything… If you ever wanted to talk…”

You flash him a timid look and crack a quiet smile. “I gave it back to you, remember?”

“I’ll write it down for you again,” he promises with a shrug and a lopsided grin. It’s easier to ignore his aching arm and the ice stinging his palm when he’s looking at you. “For real this time.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

[diejager]

More Wolfie plz🥺? Idk what you’d right but I love the universe you built up with it and would love more of it, even if it’s just a sliver

Training Cw: smut, training, collar, ring gag, doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, PinV, fingering, tell me if I missed any.

“What did I tell you about growling, pup?” He sounded so demeaning, his hand laid heavy on your nape, holding your face down and away from the two men in the room with you.

Ghost had pulled you to Price’s office under the guise of this being training, wanting to work through your aggression you’d thrived on while living in the wild. You were jerky and a biter, baring your teeth after a low growl, threatening to sink into someone’s hand or arm as retaliation. They were getting a lot of complaints from people who would approach you and attempt to pet your ears and tail, wanting to touch the softness of your washed fur and disregarding your personal space and boundaries.

“None of that,” his grip tightened around your neck when your throat rumbled, a growl slipping through your gagged mouth, drool rolling down your cheek.

They gave you a pretty, black ring gag, placed behind your teeth to keep your mouth open from biting them and showing off your sweet and fiery mouth. The black leather looped behind your head, a thin strap connecting it to your collar, a smooth, black leather that sat comfortably around your neck without irritating it, but thin enough for you to feel everything. They had you wear it as a sign of possession, the silver insignia of their Task Force hanging from the front, a skull and winged sword proudly gleaming under the light wherever you go.

You mellowed down, growls quieting to loud pants, exhausted from your skirmish with Ghost, doing your best ignore your Captain’s rough handling, his calloused fingers kneading the flesh of your hips and stomach, his hands smoothing over the arch of your back to your tail. Your fur was matted and wet, dirtied with slick that - prior to being forced into this position - pooled down your rim and wetting your soft fur. You’d long given up in fighting Price, he was much stronger than you and smelled of power and strength —like alpha. He was the leader of your little pack, a fiercely protective leader who had every intent of putting his group first, but it was his scent that made you stop. He smelled of strong musk, a heady scent of cigar and cedar, less smoky and sweet than your Lieutenant’s sandalwood that kept flooding your sensitive nose.

“Good pup, you’re doing so well,” Price cooed, running his fingers through your hair, scratching the reactive nerve behind your ears. It made you whine, a high sound that had both of them shush you, “That’s it, you’re all right, pup.”

Your panting grew louder, mewls slipping out as a final sign of submission, letting them bend your body to their pleasure. You arched your back, bucking against the bearded man that was ploughing into you, driving his hard cock into your wet cunt, slick squelching out of you with every snap of his hips, his balls slapping your twitching clit. You couldn’t deny how good it felt to give up all autonomy after having taken care of yourself on your own for years, letting another care for you and manhandle you in the best way. His veined girth laid heavy in your cunt, your gummy walls wrapped round him in a tight hold, just a hair away from coming.

Canting his hips and leaning forward, your world exploded in bright lights when Price’s head tapped your cervix, punching the air out of your body with every thrust. He was guiding you through your orgasm just as he had his, his cock throbbing and veins pulsing before the tip spurted ropes of cum, painting your walls white with his tangy lad, hot and thick. Price groaned lowly, palms holding your hips flushed to his, giving a few jerky thrusts before he hilted inside of you, unmoving but grounding you with the smooth touch of his thumb and Ghost’s grip on your scruff.

When he pulled out, his cum oozed out of you, dripping down your mound and landing on the old couch in his office. He admired the gift with a slight twitch of his cock, it leaked out of you like an unending fall. Wasteful, truly. His fingers slid down your thighs, gathering his cum and pushed it back in, fingering his load with a few wet sounds.

“Stay good for Ghost, pup. Can you do that?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

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