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thank you for the tag! 🫶

npt: @walkinroadkillz @get-the-medjacks @scorchedmazes @toby-du-coeur

Doing this too why not

rules: list 5 of your favorite films in a poll and have people vote on which one best matches your vibe

Tagged by: @dubiousdisco

Tbh there are more movies I like... but I wanted to shove at least one Brazilian movie here soooo.......... goodbye Pearl.

Tagging: @gesonyue @uwultra-violence @iamtiredofyourhorror and anyone else rlly... I'm too shy to tag people, sorry..... 😭 love !

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oh my HEART

They felt warmer… even if they didn’t know why, they liked this feeling.

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who can sit at my table and say they have posters of their favorite fanfics pinned in their teen room

go read @nachoupala’s fics if you haven’t yet 🫵

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also a poem from the new, unreleased collection. very possibly my own all-time favourite.

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Modern Gally 🌝

Minho: lol you have to pay for air?

Gally: and WHOSE fault is that?

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i blame it on ao3

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sometimes i wish people understood the cries for help i don’t have the courage to explicitly make

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i’m afraid i relate so much to my characters i’m now hurting them because it hurts me too

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i saw sleeping at last sing saturn live with the british royal orchestra in the most stunning place ever,,, i can die in peace 🥹

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someone left kudos on supply and demand,, god id forgotten i wrote this fic

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hi leah! if it’s not too late for the ask game, plot 9 for my favorite gay old men polyship? i know you love them as much as i do <3

It's never too late, Hayley! ❤️ Not for our precious old men

This one also ended up twice as long as the goal, so... I guess I'm not good with 250 words as a limit 🙈

"When was the last time you slept?"

Janson kept his head down, continuing to tidy his workspace. After being saved, both from a collapsing building and the Flare, then brought to a place they called Safe Haven, he figured he at least owed the people here a clean medical bay.

Even if everyone here hated him. Not only for what he had done, but for still being alive.

"I know you heard me."

Well. Almost everyone.

Rather than admit he was ignoring the question, Janson hummed instead.

A tut from behind him. Footsteps. A hand on his back. "When did you last sleep?"

Janson cleared his throat and shrugged.

Another hand appeared on his back; larger and firmer. "Do we have to drag you?"

"Hmm... Though dragging you could be fun..."

With a sigh through his nose, Janson looked to his left to meet the gaze of Jorge. "I can walk," he mumbled.

"But you won't," Jorge pointed out. "Vince could carry you? That's always fun."

A snort from his right, unmistakably Vince. "We're trying to get him to sleep, Hay."

"No harm in a little fun, too, mi alma," Jorge grinned. His expression softened when he met Janson's eyes. "You do need to sleep."

Shaking his head, Janson muttered, "If someone needs help-"

"Then there are others to give it." Jorge wrapped a hand around Janson's wrist. "You need to take care of yourself, too."

"And before you say it," Vince jumped in before Janson could protest, "you are worth taking care of."

"The people here don't hate you, you know," Jorge murmured, leaning his cheek on Janson's shoulder. "Not anymore. It's been months."

Janson shook his head. "The ones you care about most hate me."

"They don't," Jorge insisted, his hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of Janson's back.

"You had the Flare, they know that," Vince hummed. "They're not about to be best friends with you, but they don't hate you."

With a few slow breaths through his nose, Janson mumbled, "If you say so."

Vince wrapped one of Janson's hands up in both his own. "Come to bed," he murmured with a gentle tug on Janson's arm. "You're exhausted."

Though he may have argued every other point they had made, Janson knew Vince was right; he was exhausted. "Okay," he agreed softly.

With a quick little glance to Vince, Jorge guided Janson to turn around and face the door. "And if you need proof you're exhausted; you never would've given in so easily."

Another attempted argument died on Janson's tongue. "Yeah," he breathed out, his limbs readily allowing Vince and Jorge to lead him from the medical bay and out into the darkness of Safe Haven. "It's late..."

"Exactly." Keeping his voice low as they passed cabins of sleeping survivors, Jorge told him, "Your spot in the bed is cold."

As he was brought into the cabin he was now tentatively calling home, Janson supposed that, if he kept working, he might finally deserve the attention and care of these two wonderful men. Until then, he would swallow down his guilt and allow them to pull him into bed.

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as an autistic person myself, you can’t make me believe tbs isn’t at least neurodivergent,,,

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WHY HELLO MY SWEET MAN 🥹🥹

Can you draw Jorge?

I finally did it 🌝

Movie Jorge and my book version of Jorge! I hope you like it!

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i should be buying groceries but here i am lost on ao3 reading my minzart fic because it’s fully inspired by the time i lived with ari and i miss this period of my life so much

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and here i am, thinking 24/7 about jorson

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sometimes i wish my life was an ao3 fic so i could read the tags and know how it ends (bonus if chapter total is mentioned)

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i’ve had a horrible day bc i’m sick like a dog out of nowhere. spent my evening sobbing on the floor in the middle of my living room and got myself to get up at 11 with the sudden urge to get mcdonald’s. i went, and the lady there gave me a free mc flurry 🥹

i love universe sometimes 🫶