kalivodas

[kalivodas]

lets go smoke the slut weed and make out

[kalivodas]

Something I love about Tumblr is having over a thousand followers and yet absolutely zero activity when I make a post. Thank you everybody for ignoring me 🙏🙏 allow my sillyness to slip into the silent succulent dark

[kalivodas]

please be nice to me, i'm in my twenties. do you know what that does to a person

[kalivodas]

u dress up as a playboy bunny for halloween but when u get to the function chris is in the same outfit

#chris pontius #my baby girl #he’d just be like omg well this is awkward.. CHANGE #jackass

[kalivodas]

might be an outlier here but when i smell my neighbors smoking weed i just smile and nod its like adjacent to hearing christmas carolers for me… good tidings and joy unto you brother

#me when i walk into work and it smells so loud i literally get high and do a kartwheel

[kalivodas]

⊰ ☆ ⊱

being a jackass girl with stephanie hodge would cure my mental illness

[kalivodas]

The number of messages I’ve failed to answer across all my devices and media platforms will be weighed against my soul on judgment day, and I will be cast into hell

#unanswered asks u r always on my mind

[kalivodas]

no one contact me for 3-5 business days, i will need this time to recover from 1:44:07 of volume 2

#stranger things volume 2 spoilers #are u happy suffer brothers u have ruined mine and dustin henderson life

[kalivodas]

might start posting again?? sorry i go ia when i lose a hyperfixiation lol but my uni classes are coming to their end so i can finally answer some requests :))

#requests #x reader #pedro pascal #stranger things #jim hopper #eddie munson #stranger things 4

[kalivodas]

ummmm fezco x reader where they’re best fwb but he catches feelings super quick and then the reader does soon after???

MORE THAN FRIENDS — FEZCO

summary: u have a fwb relationship with fez

warnings: weed, sex mentions, euphoria s2 e1 memory, mentions of a past injury

note: got my first euphoria request i can die happy thank u anon but i love the idea of this

WHAT YOU AND FEZ shared was a simple arrangement. Sex and friendship, but not feelings. Never feelings, because relationships were far too complicated in his world. But sometimes, change is inevitable.

Fez figured that out before you.

For as long as Fez could remember, past the small memory gaps of early childhood and his recovering from the time his grandma had split his head open with a crowbar, he was calculated and precise. He knew what he expected in life, knew what life expected of him, and knew what risks to take. He wouldn’t of described you as a risk, more or so a risk factor.

It’s why your arrangement had been created in the first place. You had been best friends for practical years, but at one point, you both needed more than that. Maybe not a full relationship, it would never work out, but sex. You two would have sex, and it would satisfy the gray areas you both felt weren’t being covered just by friendship.

And speaking with absolute truth, Fez was good at the gray areas.

Insanely good.

"Fez, you remember the first time we had sex?"

He takes the blunt from your extended hand and takes a hit, then nods. "Yeah, it was like—" He thinks for a moment. The only problem with smoking often is the sections in your memory where you know exactly what happened, but have to dissect it from the day before and day after. That was the only negative to weed, your days all crashed into each other. "A few weeks ago."

"New years," you say, and he agrees.

The timing hadn't been ideal, there was still dried blood on his hands when he ran them down your thighs, but if there was one consistent pattern, you had sex whenever you wanted to.

Whenever. However. Sometimes wherever.

The distinguished lines between the two of you —friendship and something more— became blurred at times like these. You were talking about sex, thinking about it somewhere further in your mind, but weren't acting on it. You were enjoying his company without doing the one thing you hung out with each other for.

Sitting together on the couch, your legs slung across his lap while one hand rested on your calf. You were in his clothes: black wife beater, pajama pants, gray zip-up you would never return.

So where did the boundaries end? Staying the night with him and doing nothing but sleeping? Wearing his clothes even though you lied about the clean ones in your bag? Where did your boundaries even begin?

"Why you askin'?"

"Just wondering," you smile, pushing your legs into a sitting position on his lap. He’d just passed the blunt back, so you drag it, then gently glide your hand along the side of his neck until he’s looking up at you. You lean down, he meets you coming upwards, and you blow the smoke into his mouth.

When you pull back grinning, he shakes his head at you with a lazy smile. "You crazy, bruh."

You can't help but let your head fall and laugh. "We’re both crazy, Fez. Absolutely mad and insane and so many other synonyms I can't remember. That's why we're so good together."

You fall out of his lap and stretch the length of your body across the couch, eyes roaming the ceiling briefly before they close and you breathe out, "We're loony."

And Fez is looking at you so intently, he's surprised you haven't lifted your head up to ask why the thousand yard stare.

But he’s not a thousand yards away, he's not unfocused or vague in his motives.

In fact, things had never been clearer for him.

He was hooked on you.

You sigh, eyes still closed, and run your hands down your front. "I just remember thinking of how good it was. I thought ‘well, we’re both really high and that's why it feels so good, but then we did it sober eventually and it was still really good."

Fez doesn't say anything, but he's still looking at you, hanging onto every word you say like it's the last thing he might hear.

He wanted to say something. Not about the sex or about being crazy, but admit that he was starting to look at you differently. He wanted to admit he didn't just want the grey. But you open your eyes, and you smile, and he knows he’ll never get the sentence out.

"What I'm saying is that you're really good."

He laughs, quiet and reserved like many parts of him, and you sit back up.

"I'm serious, Fez." You give him a stern look, lips slightly parted while you search every aspect of his face. In one your highest stupors, you sat in his lap and tried to memorize each thing about him. Hands, clothes, voice, mannerisms, freckles, smile, eyes, lips, chains, all of it.

His lips upturn at the severity of your face, but in moments, your facade crumbles, and your chest can't quite keep up with how much you’re laughing.

Fez likes quiet until it's you. If you had the urge to bang pots and pans around the kitchen until all the birds in the city  spontaneously combusted, he'd let you.

A few hours after you’d both gone to bed and your high diluted into a serene feeling that lulled you into sleep, Fez says something. Quiet, even for him, and without reserve, he mumbles, "You driving me fucking crazy."

And from Fez, this was a marriage proposal. He'd learned how to sort money and make a living and raise a brother, but no one had told him how to deal with you. How to live in the middle with you, unsure on whether he needed to take a step forward or backwards.

Draped in sleep, you pushed your hands out into his side of the bed, then wrapped your arms around his torso. Fez knew he wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life, and he knew in order to do that, he had to take the step towards you.

"Loony," he says, and he kisses the side of your head.

#euphoria #spoilers #fezco #fluff #pining #friends to lovers #fwb #fanfic #fezco x reader #fezco x you #fezco one shot

[kalivodas]

i love fez still referring to her as jewel

#euphoria spoilers

[kalivodas]

“hell the fck no” fez i love u so much

#fezco #euphoria spoilers

[kalivodas]

rue dancing alone in the house with a pillow partner is one of the more relatable parts of euphoria

#euphoria #rue bennett #euphoria spoilers #episode 3

[kalivodas]

just realized i had 1k notes on don't tell deena???? what the heck guys tysm???? ily all btw

#dont tell deena #kalivodas #simon kalivoda

[kalivodas]

dude i’m begging u to write more simon fics you’re great

ahh i’m writing one rn and i’ve got 11 more requests, so you guys are def getting more :) tysm btw!!

#simon kalivoda #asks #writer

[kalivodas]

ooo could you write a simon kalivoda x reader where they both admit their feelings for each other in the bathroom when they have to change into the lost and found clothes bc they might have sams blood on them?? idk i always felt bad that everybody had someone except for simon 😭

ONE TICKET TO POUND TOWN — SIMON KALIVODA

summary: as above

warning: heated make out sesh.

note: hi it’s me again <3 loving these requests btw and yes!! simon deserved someone too?? enjoy plz

SIMON KALIVODA WAS a walking paradox. He had been as long as you’d known him, which was a while, truth be told. You loved it, though. His contradictions, inability to put on eyeliner without you, and the fact that he always stole your clothes. He was easy to love. That’s how you’d fallen for him.

"Hey, you," he said, tossing a blue cardigan your way before he turned to Josh with a grin. "Kalivoda here, I don’t think we’ve got any brain activity left."

"Shut it, idiot," you retorted. Your hands roamed the sweater suspiciously. When the world was going to end, you didn’t have much of a choice wardrobe-wise, but you’d much rather die in the flannel Simon had. It looked less itchy.

Josh gave everyone’s clothes a once-over and nodded. He had an Iron Maiden shirt, lucky bastard. "Everyone make sure there’s no blood on them. And Be careful."

You nodded back at him. You’d known Deena awhile, therefore Josh awhile, and the kid was sweet — but gravely transparent.

Total loser. Who would ever sit like and pine over one of their closest friends?

Nevermind.

"Rub-a-dub-dub-time," Simon called, swinging his leg up to kick open the bathroom door, but Kate cleared her throat and you all turned to look at her.

You were right behind her, but impatient was sort of her middle name.

She turned with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and said: "I don’t wanna go in by myself."

Mere inches away from saying, 'What am I? Chopped liver?' Simon wiggled his eyebrows at you, and slid an arm around your shoulders. "I've gotta pass up your offer, Schmidt. I’ve already got one ticket to pound town."

You elbowed him in the side, and Kate’s nose scrunched up as if she’d ever invite him.

Simon patted Josh on the back and whispered, "Good luck, lover boy," before ushering you inside the other bathroom.

"Sooo," Simon hummed. "Are you always this clueless, or is it only when we’re being chased by ghost killers?"

"One, shut up. Two, yeah, this is always."

He smiled.

You had been friends for years now, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to change infront of each other, but not since you’d figured out you had a crush on him.

Because it was Simon. And you were best buds.

In fact, he’d already taken off his shirt and spun it around a few feet away.

It was fine. You could turn away from him and do the same thing. But back when everyone was scrambling to get away from Skull Mask, formerly Ryan, he’d traced Sam’s blood barf to your jeans, and practically snatched you to the ground. You’d taken a fairly decent hit to your shoulder, so raising your left arm straight up was out of the question.

They could always count on you to take a fucking hit in the middle of being chased by Sarah Fier’s goon squad.

"Simon?" You finally asked, glancing over to see him check his back for blood by flexing in the mirror.

"Hmm?"

"Well, when the gun show is over,"

He laughed.

"Could you maybe…"

Just ask him to help you get naked. No big deal.

"Oh shit, your shoulder, right?"

You nodded, and Simon shrugged lazily, a smirk coating his lips. "Jeez, if you wanted me to take your shirt off, all you had to do was ask."

Smacking his shoulder only made him laugh more, but he closed the distance between you in two lousy steps.

"Like this?"

You nodded, and his hands traced the hem of your shirt. His hands were warm, and they sent chill bumps down your sides.

Tossing the pullover into the burn-unless-you-want-a-hitman-after-you pile, his lips upturned again, but his cheeks were an unusual rosy color, and the bathroom wasn’t hot. The opposite, actually.

He cleared his throat, stepped back to the sink, and started unbuckling his pants.

He hadn’t slid the trousers all the way off yet, they were resting at his hip bones as he ran his arms under the water. You couldn’t help but watch him with your head tilted curiously. Not in a creepy manner, well kind of not, but by the fact that he’s gotten flustered by taking your shirt off. That wasn’t Simon.

Simon Kalivoda was the biggest flirt you’d ever known, he didn’t nearly break his neck trying to get away from shirtless girls.

He’d taken your shirt off.

He was blushing.

He had looked away and cleared his throat.

And you were ninety percent sure you wouldn’t make it through the night, so it was only right to—

Fuck it.

"Simon, kiss me."

"What?" His head had snapped back to meet your gaze, and you weren’t sure why’d you’d ever let him look away. God, his eyes were beautiful.

But now it was your turn to make his stomach turn. It was like everything had dissipated around you, it was only him. Just Simon, the boy you’d liked for so incredibly long. You took the two steps to close the gap between you, then continued.

"We can’t—," you said softly, hands tracing his bare biceps so you could pull him to you by your shoulders. "We can’t die before I get a chance to tell you that I’ve always wanted you to kiss me. But if you don’t want that, just tell me. But you also might— so if you do, Simon, kiss me."

And that’s all it took for him to push you two back into the cold bathroom wall, which made you shiver admittedly, but this was perfect and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you’d freeze to death before Ruby Lane got her blade back out.

His lips were like his hands, warm and soft and inviting, and it only took the invite of your mouth parting for his tongue to glide across yours.

And this is the moment you'd always been waiting for. Because Simon Kalivoda was kissing you. Over and over, only taking short breaks to catch a breath before he pressed his mouth against you again.

But he tasted like the boy you’d grown up with. Especially that damn cherry chapstick he insisted on reapplying every two minutes.

"Simon," you said quietly, between the same gasps he’d just fought to catch.

If Tommy Slater, burlap bag and axe in hand, barged in, you would die of embarrassment before he could slash you to pieces.

He paused, still grinning like an idiot, and used those same warm hands to push hair out of your face. And then he whispered back —a small murmur of your name— and you wanted to grab his face and kiss him senseless. Again.

"Let me talk, Kalivoda."

And boy, did you have his attention.

He was still mindlessly tracing your jaw, neck, and collarbones, and finally, the pendant hanging from your neck. You knew the memory as well as he did — he’d handed you the silver piece when you were fifteen, and you’d taken it off a total of six times since.

"You’re not talking," he muttered, and your lips pressed together to suppress a smile.

You ran a hand through his hair softly, and said, "Yeah, I know." Swallowing any pride left in your throat, you proceeded.

"You are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me. You understand that, right?"

Simon nodded. "You too. I’d never share the blue gushers with anyone else."

"Okay…that means if we live through this, you have to give me all of them, agreed?"

"Only if you kiss me again," he said.

"Deal."

You’d already snaked your hands around Simon, pulling him as close to you as you could. This moment wouldn’t last forever, you knew that, but for a second, it felt like if you held each other close enough, nothing could happen.

As his tongue ran across the peak of your lips, you felt your knees tremble below you, but he carefully swiped your legs up to intertwine at his waist.

He kissed you like the first time, attentive and slow, but as your hands bunched in the wildness of Simon’s hair, he pressed his mouth against your neck and traced back to your jaw before his mouth found yours again.

Gently, your teeth sunk into his bottom lip as you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath.

His face at that moment was something you’d never forget — hazed eyes, a lazy grin, lips parted in revelation. Because damn, you tasted better than ecstasy.

But you’d have to take a picture later, you decided, when a door in the distance creaked loudly.

"Forgot we had henchmen," he said, allowing you to stand back on two feet.

"I tend to have that effect on people," you replied.

You gave each other once-overs, guaranteeing there was absolutely no trace of Sam’s blood, then pulled on your lost and found clothes with the exception that you and Simon traded shirts. It was only right.

There was no avoidance to swollen lips or the scent of almost-sex, but you smoothed down your hair. It’d work.

He planted one more kiss on your lips before pulling the bathroom door open, then pushed his hand into yours and led you back down the school hallway.

His hand was still lazily tracing circles on your palm when the girl’s bathroom door opened, and Kate and Josh walked out looking almost as bad as you two.

"No way…" Simon said.

Kate adjusted her blazer. "Calm down. It was— It was barely first base." Josh had a proud sort of little smile on his lips, and you giggled.

Lovebirds.

When Deena and Sam joined you looking thoroughly sexed up, you poked Simon in the side, but he was already ten steps ahead.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," he continued. "Did you… all go to pound town?"

Simon pressed his hand to his chest sheepishly, and gave a cute sort of wry smile.

"Me too!"

#simon kalivoda #fear street #fear street 1994 #fear street x reader #simon kalivoda x reader #sam and deena #josh and kate #kate fear street #simon fear street #josh fear street #fluff #fred hechinger

[kalivodas]

Do you talk to your mutuals?

Telepathically more than actually