svft.stiles

IRON MAN 2 (2010) dir. Jon Favreau

Morgan: Why does Mom wear makeup?

Tony: To look pretty.

Morgan: But she’s already pretty.

Tony: Aww.

Morgan: Dad, you should wear makeup.

#cuties

*HOWLING*

911 LONE STAR ↳ 2.08 | 3.04

In case you care 🫶 QX article about Gaygala.

ALLT OM QX GAYGALA

okok trans simon……… you feel me? [this is just wholesome and soft]

They’d never cuddled before.

Wille’s room was dark except for the muted glow of his red LED lights tumbling from his shelf. He was lying against the wall, Simon curled under his arm with his head against Wille’s chest, Wille’s hand resting on Simon’s lower back, occasionally running his fingers softly up and down Simon’s spine. And they’d never cuddled before.

Their tenuous little whatever it was ship was fragile. A kiss had only just happened, in the dim green-blue-red lighting of the Hillerska hallway. Simon knew he probably shouldn’t have just gone and done it like that, but Wille had looked so pretty in the shadows, like a Botticelli angel, his face drawn of beautiful daubs of color.

Wille had kissed him back, at least. Simon had feared he’d get a taste of those perfect princely manners with a gentle, stinging I’m not interested in you like that.

Wille had kissed him back, not princely, just shy. He was only a kid, like Simon. Every touch was careful, tentative. Wille touched Simon like he might shatter. Which one of them was that he, Simon wasn’t sure.

Simon lost track of how long they kissed in the corridor, Wille sitting on the windowsill, bending down to Simon standing between his legs. When Simon closed his eyes, the arch of Wille’s neck and the delicate beauty of his expression, eyes closed, eyelashes feathery on his cheeks, was imprinted in his mind.

When a jumpscare and subsequent shout from the room where the movie was playing jerked them apart, Simon rubbed the back of his neck while he waited for Wille to ask him not to mention it to anybody. Instead of a shamefaced Wille asking him to stay quiet because princes don’t kiss boys, Simon got a pink-faced Wille asking him if he wanted to come back to his room. Just to chill.

Simon said yes, because above all he was gay for cute, pretty boys who kissed him sweetly and had to push their hair out of their face every two seconds. Now he was here. In Wille’s room. In his bed. Surrounded by him— his warm body, his arm around Simon, his leg flung over Simon’s legs, his chin resting on the top of Simon’s head.

Wille’s fingers did another one of those gentle, slow swipes down his back and he tensed.

Not because he didn’t like it— Simon liked it. Simon would love any form of touching if it came from Wille. It was just the issue of a seam of fabric Simon didn’t want Wille feeling, with his questing fingertips. Normally Simon just used tape. That way he didn’t have to worry about weird lines showing under his shirt if he leaned forward. But he hadn’t wanted to take it off and reapply it before leaving, because his skin would hate him for it, so he’d just pulled on his smallest binder and resolved not to take off his flannel overshirt.

Except he did. To cuddle with Wille. And Wille would feel that line, that bump, any second, and Simon didn’t know what he would say.

Wille nosed at Simon’s hair. His voice came out a sleepy mumble. God, he was adorable. “You ‘kay?”

“Mhmm,” Simon mumbled, pressing his face harder into Wille’s chest like he could get away from Wille’s hand on his back. He was going to flatten his palm any second on it. He would— what would he do? Simon didn’t want to let his mind go spiraling down that path.

Wille’s fingertips ran up from the small of Simon’s back and he didn’t change direction when he got halfway. Simon’s chest tightened. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Wille’s fingers faltered. His hand flattened, big palm resting right where the edge of the binder cut across Simon’s ribcage.

“Simon?”

Simon tucked his face out of sight. “Mm?” He mumbled, hoping to god that Wille was too tired for his brain to work.

“I don’t think you should sleep in that.”

“What?” Simon almost pulled away. Then he did, scooting an inch or so away from Wille’s warmth. Wille kept his hand on Simon’s back.

“Just, like…” his boy was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes tracking over Simon’s face and then shooting to the side. “You’re not supposed to sleep in— in binders, right? It’s bad for your ribs.”

Simon felt hot and cold all over. “I… it’s fine, Wille.” He pushed himself up on his elbow, warmth spreading through him when Wille just adjusted so that he was still holding Simon. He hadn’t shrunk away, that was good, right?

Wille looked lost, out of his depth. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, frowning. Simon badly wanted to kiss the frown. “I…”

“It’s fine, Wille,” Simon repeated, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Wille’s ear, then touching his cheek. Wille’s skin was slightly rough and very warm. “It honestly is. I’m used to it.”

“But it’s bad for you,” Wille insisted. He tightened his leg around Simon’s, inching himself closer. His fingers curled in the material of Simon’s shirt. “I… I want you to be comfortable around me.”

He was very sweet, but it didn’t work like that. Not for Simon, at least.

He dropped his head to rest in the juncture of Wille’s neck and shoulder. “I know,” he said softly. “I am. But I don’t want to take it off.”

Wille didn’t say anything. Simon could practically hear him thinking, though, so he added, “I only put it on like two hours ago. It’s fine, Wille, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

For good measure, he kissed Wille’s collarbone.

“…okay,” Wille said reluctantly, pulling Simon to lay back down so they were nose to nose. His eyes, dark and bright under the red light, searched Simon’s. “You promise to take it off if you even think you need to? I have— you can wear one of my hoodies, if that would help.”

Simon had to kiss him after that, Wille’s mouth hot and firm. He pulled back, breathing a little bit harder than before. “Okay. I promise.”

Wille tugged him close. “Thank you,” he breathed into Simon’s hair, clutching Simon’s body tight to his.

Simon relaxed into Wille, the almost possessive grasp the other boy had on him. He liked it. He had never felt wanted like this before, the flirting and the joking and the looks between him and Wille had been unfamiliar but welcome. He’d known he was gay for ages, of course, but Wille was like— the why of it all. How could he not be gay, when Wille was right there looking at him like that?

Simon really, really liked him. It was kind of scary.

An hour or two passed, after Wille put some quiet music on, and Simon knew he was falling asleep soon. He twisted his neck to look up at Wille’s face, expression smoothed out in almost-sleep. Simon touched the underside of his chin and whispered, “Wille?”

“Hm?”

“Can I have one of your hoodies?”

It took a couple seconds for Wille’s brain to reboot. He sat up slowly, pulling Simon with him, and covered his yawn with a hand. “Yeah, ’course. In the top drawer.”

Simon stood out of bed and crossed over to where Wille’s clothes were. He picked out the first hoodie he saw, a dark blue one he’d seen Wille wear during PE. He turned around to Wille, who was watching him with sleepy fondness written all over his face.

“Do you want me to—?” Wille asked, and Simon nodded.

“Just cover your eyes or something,” he said with a shrug, and Wille flopped back down on the bed with his arm flung over his face. Simon smiled to himself and quickly shed his t-shirt and binder, balling it up in the bottom of his bag and pulling Wille’s hoodie on over his shirt.

He lay back down next to Wille, slipping under Wille’s arm and tucking himself as close to the other boy as possible. Wille’s hoodie smelled like him, and Wille’s neck was warm for Simon to press his face into.

Simon really, really liked him.

I was so hurt seeing this parallel..

The fact that Simon immediately recognized that Wille was high when he looked him in the eye and we see him flinch the same way he did when his dad touch him.

His reflection was getting worst everytime.

Wille falling in love with Simon through his voice make so much sense by the way the whole series is implying how attach Wille is to music. How he listens to specific music that is driven by his emotion or how it comforts him when he is down.

Simon singing loudly was the first reason he smiled at Hillerska. And as time soon passed, Simon became Wille's music. He became the driver of Wille's emotion. Became his comfort when the world is too much.

Crazy enough, the same boy has written a song solely for him. Driven by the emotions Simon deeply felt for Wille. Trying to reach his heart.

What makes it heartfelt is instead of a written poetry just like everyone else in the month of love, it was instead delivered through music that he loves the most (Simon's voice).

GIF: @/youngroyalscentral & @/drs295

They don’t have names.

YOUNG ROYALS (2021-)

Found the best edit I’ve ever seen ohmygod

@/lvfrcptnswns on Twitter

YOUNG ROYALS (2021-) dir. Rojda Sekersöz HEARTSTOPPER (2022-) dir. Euros Lyn MY SCHOOL PRESIDENT (2022-) dir. Au Kornprom

The look of how worried Simon was after listening to Wille's speech. But the moment Wille turned to him and smiled, all his worries vanished, his gaze and his facial expression was at ease. It was a silent "If you're fine, then I'm fine too. We're in this together" conversation just by looking at each other's eyes.