OH BOY DO I HEHEHEHE

WOOOAHAHAHAHAH IM LITERALLY EXPLODING A BILLION TIMES OHMYGOD OHMYGOD OHMYGOD FAT TONY MAID DRESS FAT TONY MAID DRESS THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU HE'S SO HOT ITS INSANE❗❗❗

@traged-tea you're literally so real for this drawing btw

Do you do emoji nonnies ?

wait hi hello OP here I'm Lu WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T FIT IT ANYMORE!? I never really paid attention to it I just happened to be checking what year a book I picked up was published and noticed the LOC summary (?) I didn't realize that copyright pages have gotten crowded??? what's happened to cause that?!?? I'm so curious now asjdkfsjfk

OKAY SO rolls up sleeves, puts this under a readmore since I used some images and it got a bit long:

Link: https://www.tumblr.com/mimosa-sexypeople-contests-2026/820791615069323264/tumblr-sexyman-contest-2026-round-5-part-3-simon?source=share

Ooooooh, you wanna vote for Simon so badddddd.

Cant really click the link but if you send me the post😏

EIN HI HELLO

also ya'll really wantin' the crumbs huh -- too bad no crumbs here how bout a full dish for once

(Ann aka @get-the-medjacks from main 🙂)

hi!! thank you for the ask! i had a great time with it : ) I hope that you don't mind that i combined it with friends to fiances; i wasn't intending to but once it started heading that direction i didn't fight it so this one is longer, so it is headed to ao3... but i'm already past my bedtime so not tonight!

Thomas glances behind him. This exercise has a purpose, or so their cross-country coach insists, but Thomas skips out on it most days and the only person who consistently beats him is the person he’s looking for.

And they’re on the same team, so it hardly matters if they just switch places now and then.

Minho said that there’s something he’s supposed to be looking for in here, but the woods are dense enough that he could be going in circles all day and not find it.

There’s a rustling to his right, but that could just be the wind or an animal. Thomas doesn’t see anything when he turns to look.

“Come on, you haven’t found it yet?” Minho calls out. Thomas can’t place where his voice is coming from before he’s face-down in the dirt. “Oh, shit.”

Minho’s flipping him over before Thomas even has the chance to try. “Dude, did you really break your nose by falling into the dirt?”

“Warn me next time, yeah?” Thomas mutters, blood thick in his mouth. He hates nose bleeds. “Nah, it doesn’t hurt, just a nosebleed.”

“If you say so.” Minho helps him sit up, arranging them so Thomas is practically in his lap.

“What was I supposed to be finding, anyway?”

“It’s not as fun if I just tell you.”

“You could lead me there, then.” Minho’s not usually this cryptic. Maybe when they first met, for all of three minutes. And definitely not since they got their apartment.

Their apartment. When he thinks of it like that, he can pretend that they’re together. There have been times when he thinks that Minho might say something, or kiss him, but nothing’s ever happened. Not even when they’ve gotten drunk at parties; their friends would never shut up about it if they’d, like, made out or something.

“I guess I have to. Clean up your face first. Don’t want people thinking I’m murdering you or something.”

“You are, by proxy. Coach is gonna kill us.”

“Hey, our training today is all in here. Coach doesn’t know shit.”

“Whatever.” Thomas rolls his eyes and tries to stand, his ankle immediately folding under him. “Oh, we’re so dead.” If he’s sprained his ankle now… he’ll be lucky if no one catches on. His connective tissue sucks at its job, so he’s very used to sprains and rolling his ankles, but that doesn’t mean that he’s supposed to run on them.

“How bad is it?”

“Probably about a two, by feel. Don’t know how swollen it is yet.”

“Do you still want your surprise?”

“What kind of question is that?” And the longer they can avoid going back, the more time he has to figure out if this is something he needs to go in for or if he can handle it himself.

“You’re not walking, though. I’ll carry you.” Minho doesn’t give him a chance to protest, moving so he can put a careful arm under his knees.

“This really isn’t necessary.”

“It really is. We’ve got races to win.”

“You mean I have races to win.”

“We’ll see about that.”

It’s nice, being in Minho’s arms; Thomas spends more time staring at them than he’ll ever admit to.

When they’re making dinner together, moving around their tiny kitchen like they’ve been doing it their whole lives. When they’re running, when they’re studying, when Minho’s lifting weights.

… Okay, Thomas can see why everyone else makes fun of them all the time. He can’t think of a single time they’ve been apart for longer than an hour all week. All month, probably.

What would Minho do if he just kissed him, right now? He could.

Thomas settles for nestling his head into Minho’s neck instead.

It doesn’t take long for Minho to get to Thomas’s surprise.

“The clearing? Why didn’t you just say that, dumbass?”

“Not just the clearing, look around.”

“Did you hide a picnic basket in a tree?” Thomas can barely see it through the leaves.

“Yeah, and I have to get it down now, so you’re gonna have to sit tight.”

They go out, yeah, but they don’t do things like this.

What if Minho’s moving out and he wants to break the news gently?

Minho has blankets and everything--one for the ground, and one to wrap around them as they eat. It’s not that cold, but now that he’s not moving, Thomas is getting a little shivery.

“This is nice.” Thomas can’t think of anything else to say. He doesn’t know what Minho wants with this. 

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it. And I got red velvet cake for dessert, from that bakery that you insist is the only place that does it right.”

When did Minho have time to put this together? They’re around each other all the time. Thomas’s favorite pasta salad is in there, and his favorite type of juice, from the brand that he thinks tastes the best.

“Minho…”

“Thomas, I know we’ve been friends for a long time. The first time I saw you, I was so annoyed by you, and honestly I still am, sometimes. But you’re my best friend. We live in each other’s pockets and I don’t want to do anything without you.

“So I asked our friends to help me set this up so you wouldn’t think anything was wrong, and keeping it a secret hasn’t been fun. I wasn’t even sure it was a good idea, because I don’t want our lives to untangle in any way.”

Okay, so he’s not moving out. Minho takes a breath, his lips parting, and Thomas can’t take it anymore. He’s going to die if he doesn’t kiss Minho right now.

So he does.

He loses track of time as they kiss. Ants are probably getting into the picnic basket, all over his red velvet cake, but it doesn’t matter when he’s kissing Minho.

Nothing matters when he’s kissing Minho.

As soon as they stop kissing, Minho wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

“Marry me?” Minho says, wonderfully breathless.

“Are you sure that’s the next step here?” Thomas asks, but he’s out of air too. “Yes, Minho. Any day. Every day. Why weren’t we doing this before?”

“Because you’re bloody idiots!” Newt steps out from behind a tree.

“Have you been watching the whole time?” Minho pulls the blanket tighter around them, like they have something to hide.

“Well, someone had to make sure you didn’t die out here!”

“And, what, you volunteered?”

“No, we did rock-paper-scissors for it. And I lost.”

“You’ll have to play against Minho to make yourself feel better then.” Thomas laughs.

“There may also have been an agreement that you might end up engaged before you even started bloody dating, so I have something else for you.”

“Newt, if you picked out our engagement rings I will throttle you.” Minho says. “At least let us decide.”

“You lost that chance when you didn’t get together in high school. I didn’t pick them, your families did.” Newt hands them the rings; one is Thomas’s grandfather’s wedding band, and the other is from Minho’s father.

“Can I stay for cake, at least?” Newt asks, after they’ve put the rings on each other. They don’t fit quite right, but that can be fixed. 

“No. Get out. Don’t come back.” Thomas says, not looking at him.

He’s got a fiance to kiss. goal wc: 250 or less wc: 1235 (are we noticing a theme with these word counts? i don't think i've had one of these actually be 250 or less yet)

(I didn't watch it because I'm a wuss when it comes to horror)

I am also a bit of a wuss when it coms to horror stuff.

Which is one of the reasons that I haven't seen Sinners yet. (That and the fact that it was limited release, and I am bad about venturing out of my comfort zone in terms of going to venues that aren't in my neighbourhood...)