#And bc starting a blog from scratch is hard LOL

[cerealmonster15]

I could. make an art side blog. Maybe . . . .

[whateveryouiguess]

let me in.| roommate! eddie munson x reader

warnings: angst to fluff, not that serious tho, reader is sad and eddie tweaks bc he’s in love w her lol. no use of y/n, reader is described as wearing a bonnet to sleep. takes place in modern day :)

a/n: heyyy remember when i started this blog five months ago lmao. anyway. college is hard gimme a break. this wasn’t requested but i think it’s Neat. enjoy!

eddie can’t fuckin cook.

he can work the shit out of a hungry man and boxed macaroni but a genuine, effort-given, home cooked meal? forget about it. this lack of talent hasn’t ever bothered him though, he’s not a particularly picky guy (being dirt poor you learn to just eat what’s in front of you till you get full) so his ineptitude hasn’t created much of a hindrance. until now.

she’s not much into sharing her emotions; she’s always there with open arms when eddie falls apart, but she’s never asked for it in return. instead, she resorts to sulking in her bedroom and waiting till eddie’s left the common area to utilize the space. eddie is a grade a eavesdropper, and he wouldn’t put himself above listening through the wall to check on her when he’s especially worried. he gives her the space she knows he wants, doesn’t pry, but when he stays in the living room all day and doesn’t hear her come out of her room once, not even to eat, he knows it’s time to warp some boundaries.

“soup and self care,” she once described her catch-all sadness remedy. she’s used it on him more times than he can count and he knows for certain that it works like a charm (when accompanied by a tight hug over the shoulders and a warm kiss on the cheek, that is. she never misses.)

—————————————————————————

an hour and a half into fucking up a tomato bisque, eddie considers throwing in the towel and just ordering panera, but he worries the sentiment won’t ring true enough if it’s not from scratch. he groans loudly and drops the still warm pot of a soup homage into the sink, wiping the sweat off his brow with the black handkerchief ever tucked into his back pocket. defeated, he slumps against the marble countertop and heaves a big sigh, eyes trained on the closed, sticker decorated door directly across from the kitchen.

it’s just my period.

his poor girl.

i’m being dramatic.

she was so damn strong.

don’t worry about me.

he would give her the world. he had to.

“fuck it.”

ed slides towards her bedroom door, knocking gently. he hears her clear her throat and reinject the pep into her voice as she calls out a strained “yeah?”

“can i come in?”

“i-“ he hears shuffling, her voice gets closer to the door. “what’s up?” the shakiness in her voice makes his palms tingle and his cheeks burn. he’s hurting for her, and she won’t tell him why.

“sweetheart, please let me in. i know you’re not okay and i-i don’t wanna pry, or make you uncomfortable, y’know, i respect your boundaries and all that, but i…” the words leave him as his hand slumps over the brass knob of her door. “i can’t let you sulk anymore, kid.” his throat aches under the weight of the words that leave his lips. he doesn’t realize how heavy they are until he lets them go. “please.” with a quiet sniffle and a slow turn of the knob, eddie’s made privy to the pitch black mess of her room. she’s back in bed as soon as the door is open. tip toeing around her discarded bra and work clothes, a textbook and her open laptop, he crawls into bed beside her, leaving just enough space for her to roll over and cuddle into him. he craves her surrender, but he wants her to do so willingly. his shoulders feel hollow without the acupressure of her arms around him, he wants nothing more than to scoop her up and cradle her like she does him, but he’d rather be a gorgons lunch before pushing her beyond her limits. so, he settles on resting a hand between her shoulder blades and toying with the little curls at the nape of her neck, picking at the fairy knots and brushing them back under her bonnet when he’s done with them.

“i don’t wanna talk.” she huffs, as if he’d said anything to refute her. he just nods silently and rubs her back, smiling she presses herself up against him shyly.

“tomato bisque or french onion?” she coughs a little and sits up, squinting at him. the pale moonlight bleeding from the window and the blue cast of the doordash order screen on his phone lights him up like a freshwater pearl as he smiles at her confusion. “i’m getting panera, do you want tomato or french onion soup with your grilled cheese?” the scrunch in her nose scares him for a second, until she rolls over onto her other side and curls into his chest. the white flag has risen. his arms are quick to find her waist and shoulders holding her tight, tight, tight, to him. a slow, heated kiss to her temple is the nail in the coffin, and he’s sure he can coax her into a face mask or a back rub later on to complete the usual routine.

homemade or not, he was gonna get his girl some soup. he would get her the world.

[heybaetae]

gifmaker / cc wrapped 2023!

thanks for tagging me my angel @jkvjimin 💜

i tried really hard not to choose all comp sets, but those take the most effort and therefore are what i'm prouder of than a standard set, but regardless...

here are my top 10 fave creations of the year:

bts chapter 1 insta feed // this was an insanely taxing project and is probably the most work i've ever put into anything, but i was really inspired to do it. it took about a week (one day for each panel) and was repetitive, i literally threw out my back by day 3 from sitting working on it that my body was in SO MUCH PAIN, but i wanted to get everything right and make it make sense which is why i wrote up a detail post breaking it down and explaining every decision that went into this. i still intend to make this a series and do one dedicated to their japanese discography (i actually started on one before i published this but didn't like the concept) and for their solo work, but it doesn't feel like the right time yet as things continue to release. but i look forward to it!

cheesy bts valentine cards // this was purposely corny, but the response was unbelievable! i had fun working on it and was so happy it made people laugh and smile. the tags were a joy to read on this post and it's my fourth most popular gifset ever. thank you!

bts guide to troubled birds // yet another corny idea, but i get a kick out of making silly comps and was inspired to make this. i started with jimin's as an experiment because his poem was the easiest to choose and built the rest of it from there, carefully deciding which poem to apply to each member and recreating them from scratch. i love celebrating their chaos in fun ways, so this was nice!

jungkook's sensitive tear ducts // sometimes i get really random comp ideas and spontaneously start making something with no plan. this was one of those times and it is now my third most popular gifset since making this blog in 2020 lol. ofc i'd never gif him upset about anything serious, so i only chose moments that didn't feel inappropriate to include to keep this set lighthearted and humorous.

long live bts (10th anniversary set) // i always knew i wanted to make something with the lyrics of that song because every word of it reminds me of their story. the 10th anniversary was perfect since it literally says "it was the end of a decade". i wanted the set to just be really simple so i went with a more desaturated look and focused more on choosing a scene from each year that fit the lyric per that gif.

love me again mv // this was my first time bothering to gif a music video in 4k. i usually avoid it bc it slows my computer down and takes a lot longer (i also have to reconvert the youtube download to a different file type to get it to play in my kmplayer, it's a whole process) but i waited a few days after it came out because i originially didn't think i could color it when it premiered so i just didn't gif it. but i gave it a try anyway when i didn't feel so pressured and i really like how crisp they came out.

jungkook's bday set // i didn't have a plan for this when i started, but i searched a lot for inspo and finally found something i felt like i could make something with so i came up with this very barbie-esque rendition for jungkook that i'm still very fond of. i purposely didn't write happy birthday on it anywhere so it could be shared year-round. it's probably my fave set i made all year and everyone seemed to like it too!

jimin's bday set // this was originally just going to include songs from FACE, but i decided it didn't celebrate jimin's work as a whole if i didn't include all his solo songs/endeavors so it turned into a big monster. i like how it came out though!

standing next to you mv // this year i was introduced to HD master files, so instead of rushing to download a new mv from youtube and giffing it fast, i'd wait for a higher quality rip from apple music to show up online. the difference is quite astounding. i made gifs with master files for all three of jk's music videos this year (seven, 3D), but i like how this one turned out the best.

vmin comp // just felt like giffing my two favorite people before they left and needed to channel my sad emotions into something before seeing them seperate for so long. i included moments i've giffed before and ones i've never had the chance to gif. i could have made this post so much longer but forced myself to stop lol. i like the pink and blue colors in it a lot <3 i miss them so much

thank for all your support on my work this year! i have lots of (old) new stuff in my drafts to share in the new year so please keep your love coming x

i'm going to tag @userjiminie @userjungkook97 @btsiu and @cordiallyfuturedwight to do this if they'd like to!

[suzusaur]

Screw it, lol

As the social media scaffolding clatters down around us I've been debating what to do with this blog. For years it has been a weird merging of my IRL and fannish lives, but it's long past time to uncross those streams. I couldn't decide which one should remain here and which gets to start from scratch, but in the end I have an existing follower base here and it's been hard enough rebuilding that on bluesky, lol.

TO WIT: This is now the official tumblr of Suzanne Walker, professional author and creator of things!! I'll probably still reblog some silly pop culture things to keep things fun, but I'll also be doing promo for any forthcoming stories of mine / promoing other authors here (bc they're cool and you should follow them). Is this mostly happening so I can yell about the Star Wars story I wrote for the Return of the Jedi anniversary anthology? Yes.

FOR FANDOM FRIENDS: if we're mutuals and you'd like to keep following my fannish activities, DM me and I will give you my new pseud/tumblr username.

Thanks to everyone who has stuck around this weird blog of mine all these years. Hope you enjoy all that's to come <3.

[lolothesilly]

to comment about your rss feed post- i never stopped using rss feeds, when google tried to strike them down and many large websites gave up i kinda was just out of the loop because i never use corporate stuff in the first place. so remembering that there are still places that use rss feeds like tumblr is important to getting people to migrate from phone models to legacy ones, but i think at the end of the day the greatest evil is all the ui changes that came with the smart phone i have a flip phone and my daily driver is my laptop i am never off of, theres so many ui differences in endless scroll feed based websites that the people on neocities RESENT and desperately do not want to emulate so i really hope people are happy with how small and cute and sincere it is right now and use ANOTHER website maker to do more of what that post was talking about. because neocities is a spiritual successor of geocities and the traditions of webrings and guestbooks and emailing people directly and following the breadcrums of links is all apart of the learning curve and to disrupt that for the lesser endless feed scroll model is going to get us back to what corporate hell has entrapped us in. since twitter migration started on tumblr nobody makes real blog posts, people are alergic to paragraphs and intimacy and sincerity. i just appreciate neocities for having that and being too desperate for EVEN MORE USERS when we already have so many scares me, i already got to get off of tumblr for the expansion reasons that made it unusable and out right dangerous for me as a queer person. theres benefits many in being obscure and small.

im sorry i cant tell if im having a hard time processing this ask or what, im not 100% sure what youre saying here but ill try to respond as best i can, sorry if i misinterpret anything!!

so like i definitly agree with the "allergic to paragraphs and intimacy and sincerity" thing, i was thinking about it more last night and i think its a good thing that neocities doesnt really lend itself as much to the short-form posts you see on tumblr and twitter. bc like. i remember when i was a kid/teen, that kind of shortform flow-of-consciousness posting was mostly found in:

chatrooms (chatzy, IRC, guestbooks, shoutboxes, etc)

early social media status updates (like on myspace or facebook, the "had starbucks today lol 😜" kind of stuff)

and like. the niche chatrooms used to fill is now mostly filled by discord (though i know discord has Problems and i Think ive heard of alternatives to it?? havent looked into that as much) but. i think neocities being a home for longer posts about your interests is SO valuable honestly and i want more people to embrace that kind of thing!!

i feel like theres a sort of craving that sites like tumblr or twitter currently fulfill (badly) of like. throwing your thoughts into the void. not necesarily looking for a discussion but like. idk. its like if you wrote in a journal and then turned the pages into paper airplanes and threw them out your window.

(actually i remember in the 10s there was this site... i forget what it was called but it was like an anonymous "email" sort of service but your emails just went to random other users? literally shouting into the void, knowing someone will hear but can not respond because its all anonymous. idk it was neat)

but yeah. sorry. this is disjointed im really just thinking out loud. i just miss personal sites and fansites and forums and chatboxes and IRC chats..... i miss the way we used to use the internet, the way we used to share things with each other....

as far as RSS and feeds go i dont think its really all that comparable to the endless scrolling hell we have on modern social media sites, but i DO think it might scratch the same brain-itch while being less destructive. its hard to doomscroll if your "feed" is literally just "new articles posted by your friends on their personal websites" instead of like, "10000 reblogs and 1000000 random things the algorithm has decided to show you", yknow? its like. home grown organic media. idk

[lovelyunholyc]

melting, like an ice cream

18+ only! minors dni please and thank you <3 MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

pairing: matsukawa issei x hanamaki takahiro

7.2k words. more plotless smut!! sort-of sequel to melting, you're a daydream, but reading that is not necessary for context ((bc neither of them rly have a plot lol))

makki's pov, established poly!mattsun x reader and matsuhana is figuring out their feelings and therefore this is entirely focused on them, though reader and the relationship as a whole is referenced and mentioned throughout :) (blow jobs, hand jobs, grinding/frottage, lots of kissing and lots of praise, spit kink... :') cum eating.). just a couple dummies in love <33

Hanamaki had always known his best friend was attractive.

It was an undeniable fact. He's spent most of his life by Matsukawa's side, causing trouble and making memories throughout their most vulnerable years, learning about themselves and growing together. He's watched Matsukawa grow from a tall, gangly teenager to the lean, confident man he is now, always with that easy, lopsided grin and calculatedly disinterested gaze that made people swoon - Hanamaki's witnessed that too, too many times to count.

He was by his side when he had his first relationship - lost his virginity, had his first breakup, his first hookup. And he was there when he first fell in love, could tell when it happened by the almost imperceptible softening of his demeanor when he was around you, when he so much as talked about you. Of course Hanamaki could tell immediately, he knows him so well. No matter how much Matsukawa had tried to downplay it, deny it even when his eyes shone impossibly bright when he told his friend about you, the smile creeping up the corners of his lips as he spoke. He was most handsome when his expression softened like that, Hanamaki thought. And he could tell, he was serious about you.

And when Hanamaki finally met you, he understood instantly why.

In the most complicated, positively convoluted way, it could be argued that he'd fallen for you partly through his friend. Before he'd even known you, he'd known you from him. The way he talked about you, the way he looked at you, the way he loved you, made Hanamaki yearn for you in the same way, only emphasized the things he saw in you that he didn't see in anyone else.

And maybe, just maybe, it went the other way around, too.

Because after that fateful night of you bringing him into your relationship, he would catch himself, more often than before, staring a little too long at Matsukawa, his eyes gliding over his pretty skin, smooth and tan and soft to the touch, he knows - the veins lining his arms, the subtle way his muscles flex when he….does…- well, anything.

But especially when he holds you down and fucks into you ferociously, when sweat beads on his beautiful, beautiful skin and follows down the hard lines of his stomach to disappear between where your bodies are connected, the look of concentration and ecstasy on his face, the messy way his hair gets when your fingers have disheveled it beyond saving. The scratches on his back from your nails, the way he bites his lip sometimes when he's focusing on hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you scream.

Hanamaki's favorite, he thinks, is when Matsukawa cums with a groan and a forceful thrust to lodge himself as deep in you as he can, throwing his head back and exposing the smooth column of his neck, his collarbones.

So it's completely instinctual for Hanamaki to lean forward and start kissing it tentatively, one night.

The first time, Matsukawa makes a strangled little noise of surprise, making Hanamaki grin against his skin, and emboldened, he starts to lick at the sweat on his clavicle, humming appreciatively at the salty taste before trailing up his jaw, his ear. Before he can nip at Matsukawa's earlobe, a strong hand comes up to his neck and tugs him closer, holds him in place for the searing kiss he graces him with, the ravenous movements of his tongue and lips and teeth.

Matsukawa tastes so good, kisses so fucking well, like he'll devour him whole and make him all the better for it. It's addicting, intoxicating, knocks all the air from his lungs but Hanamaki can't help but grapple at his biceps to keep him close as much as he uses them to keep himself steady, wanting more, more, more - more than he needs to breathe.

He admits to himself, blearily, that he wants to cry a little bit, because he could've done this a lot sooner.

Hanamaki understands immediately why you whine every time Matsukawa pulls away from you, because he does the same thing without thinking. He can't get enough.

It makes Matsukawa chuckle, all breathless and smug, and Hanamaki nearly jumps out of his skin when he surges forward and starts stroking his cock, and you shift to accommodate him, turning to capture his lips and take over right where Matsukawa left off, stealing his breath all over again while Matsukawa makes quick work of his dick.

He hadn't even realized he was hard again.

But there he was, making a mess all over his stomach again, because you and Matsukawa have it out for him, he's sure, almost like you were competing over who could reduce him to a pile of goo more efficiently. Hanamaki can't complain, he's never been so adored, loved so wholly and openly, and it makes him feel light and giddy and a little bit weepy, if he has to be honest.

Hanamaki whimpers when Matsukawa slides his fingers across his stomach, spreading his cum over his skin, and pulls his sullied hand away to lick it clean, you following soon after, a similar spark of mischief in your eyes when yours and Matsukawa's tongues meet over his hand. Hanamaki's cock twitches again when you moan around one of Matsukawa's fingers, and Hanamaki thinks he does actually start crying at that point, beyond oversensitive and completely overwhelmed.

Something shifts, ever so slightly, bit by bit.

Matsukawa's touches come unprompted, spontaneous, and linger a little longer. His gaze towards him gets a little softer, Hanamaki can feel it, and he catches his best friend looking at him more often than not.

And he can feel himself get a little weaker in the knees when their eyes lock, and he has that stupid, easy half-smile on his face.

Hanamaki's looking through their pantry for a snack, that first time. You'd gone off to work and Matsukawa was taking an afternoon nap, having played video games all night despite your efforts to distract him. Which is not to say you weren't successful, just that Matsukawa had proven triumphantly (annoyingly) that he could still entertain you while he entertained himself; Hanamaki hadn’t been much help, too exhausted from work and school and finding you too amusing to prevent from Matsukawa’s teasing and riling you up. Especially when you put on such a nice show for him, and then sank down on him soon after, making such pretty noises and pointedly ignoring Matsukawa as revenge.

Hanamaki smiles to himself at the memory, and it turns into a frown when his search comes up with only the sad end of a loaf of bread and half a jar of strawberry jam. He starts toasting a piece of bread and pulls his phone out to text you while he waits, asking if you’d like to pick up dinner on your way home in the sweetest way he can think of, adding a photo of the state of the pantry just for added pity. He makes a mental note to ask Matsukawa to go to the convenience store with him for more snacks, knowing his stomach will be empty when he wakes up.

He’s spreading jam on his sad slice of bread at the counter when he feels warmth on his shoulder, the soft tickle of hair against the skin on his neck, and nearly drops everything, startled. Matsukawa’s laughter rumbles through him, makes his skin tingle and his cheeks flush - even more when his hands find Hanamaki’s hips to steady himself.

“‘M hungry, too,” Matsukawa murmurs, his voice even deeper, gravelly from sleep. It makes heat spark in Hanamaki’s belly, but he isn’t going to acknowledge that.

Of course Matsukawa makes it even more difficult just by standing there, existing, and resting his chin on his shoulder. Hanamaki realizes when he turns his head slightly that he’s only wearing sweatpants, the waistband slung dangerously low on his hips and practically drawing his eyes to the deep V of his hips towards his pelvis, and he wants to scream in frustration.

“Get your own food.” Hanamaki shakes his head indignantly, sets the butter knife down and chomps down on his toast to distract himself from his best friend and his stupid handsome face and stupid, casually stunning body. It’s unfair, it’s truly unfair that he kept that physique past high school, that he’d filled out and toned it even more since then, that he looks like that.

“That’s no way to treat your best friend,” Matsukawa huffs, puffing hot air onto Hanamaki’s neck, and he can’t help but squirm a little bit at how it tickles. Matsukawa seems to notice, because his fingers twitch around Hanamaki’s hips. “Sharing is caring,” he whispers, tilting his head slightly so the tip of his nose brushes against Hanamaki’s jaw, and Hanamaki hates that he can tell he’s smirking, can imagine it so clearly without looking. “I think we’ve established that, haven’t we?” His voice is so low, barely a whisper, but Hanamaki swears he can feel it tingle in his bones.

Hanamaki gulps at the implication, his mouth going dry. Matsukawa pulls Hanamaki’s hips flush to him, and the toast in his hand clatters back onto the plate in front of him. Matsukawa’s lips ghost over the smooth column of his neck, and Hanamaki grips the counter as one of his hands slides ever so slowly up from his hip to his stomach, then up and up and up, leaving goosebumps in its wake, until Matsukawa can hold his jaw and tilt his face up to look at him.

Matsukawa’s only a couple inches taller than him, but Hanamaki wonders at their height difference when he feels how much he crowds over him now.

Hanamaki positively shivers, licks his lips as his eyes instantly catch on Matsukawa’s own lips, stretched into that familiar little smirk. “Right?” Matsukawa asks, and their faces are so close Hanamaki almost feels more than hears him.

“Y-yeah,” he replies, breathless, not even sure what he’s affirming, too focused on the flutter of Matsukawa’s long eyelashes, the light scrape of the callouses on the tips of his fingers against his skin, scorching where he touches.

Matsukawa grins, touches their noses together, but just before their lips touch, he pulls back a little, and Hanamaki has to bite his lip to keep himself from whimpering - too soon. “Is this okay?” he asks in a whisper that seems almost shy, almost uncertain and so unlike him, Hanamaki tilts his head slightly in confusion.

It’s the sincere look in his eyes, that underlying tenderness, that makes Hanamaki shift closer and turn his body into him, makes him grab his best friend’s face and kiss him fully.

Matsukawa's breath hitches, but he doesn't miss a beat, slots his mouth along Hanamaki's with a soft little moan that sends another wave of heat through him. It's a torturous, unfair kind of give and take that makes Hanamaki want to cry - Matsukawa sucks on his bottom lip and his knees weaken; he nips until Hanamaki allows his tongue entry and Hanamaki's fingers tug at the soft black hair that curls at the nape of his neck; he licks languidly into his mouth, and Hanamaki whines.

He feels the corners of Matsukawa's lips twitch up at the sound, and he wants to push him off just to smack him, but something in him keeps him tethered, though externally he isn't much better off. Matsukawa has him trapped against the counter, his leg nestled neatly in between Hanamaki's, hands at the small of his back beneath his shirt and slowly drifting higher.

When Matsukawa pulls away, it's only an inch or two, his body not moving from its position. "Tastes good," he purrs, smacking his wet lips in approval.

Hanamaki scoffs. His chest heaves with the effort of catching his breath, and he relaxes against the counter behind him, almost displacing the snack he'd all but forgotten about.

Matsukawa chuckles, removes his hand from him for a fraction of a second to push the plate further away, before he goes back to rubbing Hanamaki's sides, palms smoothing over his ribs. Hanamaki wants to say something, but he can't remember now, because he feels too warm and tingly, still a little breathless, and Matsukawa's hands feel too good on his skin, and are sliding dangerously close to his nipples. "Still hungry, though," Matsukawa laments, before capturing his lips once more.

Hanamaki could argue that his body moves on its own - but the way he rolls his hips in search of friction is very deliberate. He's sure Matsukawa can tell he's half hard, because he shifts his thigh, presses in a little closer between Hanamaki's legs. Hanamaki can feel him too, the heat of his arousal through their layers of clothing, and it makes Hanamaki arch into him more.

Matsukawa slips a hand between their bodies, and Hanamaki has to break away to breathe. "Okay?" Matsukawa whispers, half-lidded eyes following the trail his hand makes, the way Hanamaki bucks into his palm.

Hanamaki can only nod, sighing when Matsukawa's hand finally slips beneath the waistband of his pants and grips his cock firmly over his underwear. His hand is so big and warm and lovely, stroking him until he's fully hard and choking on air, Matsukawa's mouth latched onto his neck.

Hanamaki pulls him in this time, slips his tongue into his mouth. He gasps into him when Matsukawa's hand slides smoothly beneath his boxers and makes direct contact with his cock, now achingly hard. Matsukawa thumbs at the slit, and Hanamaki mewls, fidgeting in Matsukawa's hold because he's suddenly hot, too hot, especially when Matsukawa starts spreading his precum and strokes him lightly, too lightly for his satisfaction.

Judging by the way the corners of his lips turn up around Hanamaki’s, Matsukawa knows exactly what he's doing to him.

"I-Issei," Hanamaki sputters when he breaks away, voice barely a whisper, cheeks tinged red with embarrassment. Matsukawa has a hand on the counter beside him, caging him in, the other pushing Hanamaki’s pants and underwear down to his thighs only enough to free his cock and start stroking him languidly, smirk glued firmly onto his face. Hanamaki gasps when the cool air meets his moistened skin, and he can't meet Matsukawa's eyes, focusing instead on one of his shoulders, where his hand is clawing tightly into the muscle, turning Matsukawa's skin white.

He thinks vaguely that it must hurt, but Matsukawa pays it no mind, just keeps those half-lidded, yet somehow lust-filled eyes trained on him. "Yes, Hiro?" he drawls, voice infuriatingly calm, infuriatingly low, and it does things to Hanamaki's insides that he wouldn't like to vocalize. "Tell me what you want." He's teasing him, Hanamaki knows that tone all too well, but he also knows he won't be able to win.

Matsukawa takes his hesitation as an opportunity to pause his ministrations, lifting his hand up to his mouth and licking his palm, the pearly white of his teeth catching in the light when he sees Hanamaki finally meet his gaze, if only to follow the movement of his hand, his tongue.

Hanamaki takes a shuddering breath, unclenches his hands from Matsukawa's skin to grasp at his clothed hips instead, steeling himself before finally looking up at his friend, at the mixture of mirth and lust and danger glittering in his eyes. "More, please," he breathes, and Matsukawa grins, almost feral.

Hanamaki hates how handsome he still is even when he looks like he’s about to swallow him whole.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." Without any other fanfare, Matsukawa spits into his hand and closes his fist around Hanamaki's cock, leaning in simultaneously to capture his lips once more. His other hand comes up to cup Hanamaki's chin possessively, holding him in place as he kisses him, a little more forcefully, a little more passionately, plundering his mouth with his tongue and taking his breath, swallowing every sound Hanamaki makes when he squeezes gently at the base of his cock, fingertips scratching softly at his balls. Hanamaki grinds into his fist with fervor, a shiver running up his spine every time Matsukawa flicks at the head, thumb tracing around it until Hanamaki circles his hips and wills him to keep moving.

Hanamaki has to nip at him to make Matsukawa loosen his hold on his jaw and let him catch his breath, and he'd like to glare at Matsukawa, who looks far too pleased, but he can't find the strength, the heat of his big, warm hand around his cock too good to protest against.

Matsukawa pumps his cock steadily, only moving down to suck and bite at Hanamaki's neck, his own hips rutting into his thigh, the unmistakable shape of his own growing erection beneath his sweats rubbing against him. It fills Hanamaki with relief and a strange sense of pride that he's not the only one affected, that Matsukawa wants him just as much, his breath catching in his throat when Matsukawa rucks up the hem of his shirt and swiftly finds one of his nipples.

Hanamaki moans, the highest one yet, the sound escaping before he can catch it, and Matsukawa looks up at him in wonder. "Cute," is all he says, smiling sweetly before returning to Hanamaki's chest, licking at the neglected nipple and grazing his teeth along the raised nub just to make him arch into him a little more.

Hanamaki wrinkles his brow, pouts a bit, because only Matsukawa would call someone cute with their cock in his hand.

But then his expression relaxes, his head falling back, because Matsukawa squeezes his fist a little more, applies more pressure on his shaft on the downstroke, making him thrust his hips up with him when his hand slides down, slow and tight and wonderful. His hand flies up to Matsukawa’s hair, relishing the softness of the curls between his fingers.

“You’re really pretty, you know?” Matsukawa murmurs into his skin, alternating between making harsher marks that make Hanamaki keen and lighter touches of his fingers, the tip of his nose, his lips, that make him shiver. The compliment, coupled with Matsukawa’s thumb pressing at the head of his cock once more, pulls another whine from him, and Matsukawa quirks a brow, looks up at him from where he’s sucking a mark into his clavicle, just above the collar of his shirt - high enough to be seen. “You like that, you like when I call you pretty?” Hanamaki makes a garbled noise of confirmation, despite the way he shakes his head in denial, blushing furiously. “I’m gonna have my hands full with you two,” Matsukawa says, more to himself, before pressing a kiss to Hanamaki’s jaw, his other hand pinching at his nipple again.

“Issei-” Hanamaki gasps, feeling the coil in his belly grow impossibly tight, and Matsukawa cuts him off with a kiss, deep and slow despite the rapid beating of Hanamaki’s heart and the way that his fist moves around his cock, quickening his pace.

All Hanamaki can hear is blood rushing in his ears and the slick sound of Matsukawa’s hand moving back and forth, back and forth, and when Matsukawa pulls away to tug his earlobe between his teeth, his whisper cuts through it all somehow and makes Hanamaki nearly weep. “Cum, pretty baby,” the words like silk against the shell of his ear, and Hanamaki does, he can’t hold it in, can’t hold in the broken moan of his best friend’s name, the thrust of his hips into his hand, the pull of his fingers in his hair.

It elicits a groan from Matsukawa, his thighs squeezing around Hanamaki’s as he rolls his hips once for a tiny semblance of relief. He continues to stroke him through it, still holding Hanamaki’s shirt to his chest to watch with rapture at how he falls apart before him, the streaks of white that gush steadily from the head of his cock to paint his abdomen, his chest - and partly Matsukawa’s own - so beautifully.

Hanamaki feels a little bit ridiculous, leaning against the counter and gasping for breath, his own cum coating his skin and his pants halfway down his thighs. But Matsukawa looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he can’t think otherwise when he leans in to kiss him again, soft and sweet, a peck here and there, letting him recover. Hanamaki slumps against him, rests his forehead on Matsukawa’s shoulder, clutching loosely at his arms.

Matsukawa’s light chuckle reverberates through him when he slides his fingers through the mess on his stomach, the feel of the calloused pads of his fingers on Hanamaki’s skin making him shiver. “Pretty,” he says quietly, and Hanamaki can feel heat flood his face, to the tips of his ears.

“Shut up,” Hanamaki mutters under his breath, burying his face further into Matsukawa’s neck, swatting his hand away and tucking himself back into his pants. He looks up at Matsukawa and catches him raising a thick brow at him and licking his fingers clean, lips curled at the corners in that smug, distinctly Matsukawa way.

Hanamaki averts his eyes to try and maintain a piece of his dignity, his self-control, busies himself with pulling his shirt up over his head and using it to wipe at himself, sighing heavily as if he didn’t just have a mind-blowing orgasm minutes before. He goes to put his dirty t-shirt away, but it drops to the floor when Matsukawa presses into him a little closer, traps him with strong arms on the counter on either side of him, one leg still tucked resolutely in between his.”Stay here for a second, please?” he asks, and if Hanamaki didn't know any better, he sounds a little bit like he may be begging, for once.

Hanamaki pauses when he realizes, again, how hard Matsukawa is in his pants, feels him against his thigh. He tilts his head up to face his friend, and starts to smile, an indulgent thought taking root.

Matsukawa makes a startled sound when Hanamaki grasps his hips and switches their positions, but he can't say much else when Hanamaki kisses him again. Hanamaki cups his groin fully, squeezing the outline of his cock over his pants, and Matsukawa sighs so sweetly in his mouth, it makes him grin, makes him even more confident.

Hanamaki pulls away, pecks at the corner of Matsukawa's upturned lips before trailing down the sharp line of his jaw, the spot where it meets his ear, down his neck, to his collarbone. "Oh?" Matsukawa rasps, and Hanamaki notes with pride that he's breathless, thick fingers tangling through Hanamaki's hair as he steadily makes his way down, slow and steady, teasing at the smooth, pretty tan of his skin. When Hanamaki gets to his pecs he gasps; Hanamaki smooths his palms over the hard muscle, then grazes his teeth over his nipple, pinches the other between his fingers. He nips at Matsukawa's lovely skin, enjoying the slowly disappearing indents of his teeth and the salt of his sweat maybe a little too much - the lovingly lazy way Matsukawa brushes through his hair as he goes, his labored breathing, his little hums of approval.

He could do this forever, Hanamaki thinks blearily, smiling into the hard line at the center of Matsukawa's abdomen, leading to his belly button. Hanamaki kisses that, too, sinks to his knees to trace the tip of his nose down below it, following the little trail of short dark hair that disappears beneath the band of his underwear.

Hanamaki looks up, then, and if he wasn't already on his knees, he would've instantly dropped to them at the look on Matsukawa's face.

It's almost predatory, that same lopsided grin now bordering on the edge of feral, eyes sparkling with danger and open desire. He's still petting at Hanamaki's hair, his other hand resting back on the counter as he leans against it. His posture is relaxed, but the tension in his jaw, the sharpness in his eyes, sends Hanamaki's heart pounding rapidly, his pants tightening once again at that look alone.

Hanamaki swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, steels himself enough to peel the band of Matsukawa's sweats down his hips. They sit so low he only has to slide it down a few inches, and his mouth waters when he sees the bold imprint Matsukawa's dick makes against his briefs, straining the fabric significantly.

If he has to be honest, Hanamaki isn't entirely sure of what he's doing. He's never done this before.

So it takes both him and Matsukawa by surprise when he leans in to nose at the line of his cock, breathing in his heady scent, and pressing his lips to the tip of it peeking up from the waistband, before sliding that down too and fully releasing him.

Matsukawa grunts quietly when cool air meets his heated skin, but remains unmoving, patiently waiting.

Hanamaki just stares. Cocks his head to the side slightly in amazement as he studies Matsukawa's dick, the fat reddened head of it shining with precum, bouncing almost cartoonishly against his abs, the thick shaft lined with veins, standing as proud and pretty, almost menacing in its girth, as the man it belongs to. Matsukawa's dick isn't unfamiliar in the least, especially lately.

But in this context, this close to his face, it promises something indescribably wonderful and actually makes Hanamaki salivate.

And he wonders how on earth you constantly take this wonderful monstrosity so damn well, so consistently, and make it look so fucking easy.

Matsukawa chuckles above him, interrupting his reverie, and Hanamaki only realizes then that he'd said that aloud. Hanamaki's cheeks redden further, and Matsukawa caresses them gently, soothes the heat of his skin with that crooked little smile. "You don't have to take it all at once," he says, the tiniest hint of humor in his tone. "Don't look so scared."

"I'm not scared, I-" Hanamaki splutters, looking away. He realizes there isn't really anything to say, and his actions would be better proof of his stubborn devotion now that he'd started this, than anything he could say.

So he blinks, refocusing on the task at hand. He kisses the head of Matsukawa's cock again, taking the shaft in his hand gently. It's heavy, pleasantly so, and before he can overthink it further, he gives the tip an experimental lick. It shouldn't be difficult, he's seen you do it for them both too many times to count, and he's pretty sure he's gleaned enough of what Matsukawa likes from you.

Matsukawa hums approvingly, the hand on Hanamaki's cheek tangling in his hair once more, and it's all the reassurance he needs to continue.

Hanamaki tongues at the slit, the edges of the flared head, before licking a stripe down the underside, earning him a lovely grunt that seeps into his skin.

"Good boy, keep going," Matsukawa says gruffly, quietly, and Hanamaki's lips twitch up as he traces a prominent vein with his tongue, looking up at his friend through his lashes.

He's so sure it's obvious he has no idea what he's doing, but he lives for Matsukawa's praise, the light tug of his rough fingers at the roots of his hair, the deep, beautiful groan that escapes when he seals his mouth over the head, the spasm Matsukawa can't seem to control when he closes his hand around the shaft simultaneously. Hanamaki's fingertips just barely touch if he squeezes a little bit, and the fact makes him shiver.

What Hanamaki doesn't expect, is how much he actually enjoys being on the giving end.

"Th- that's it, that's it," Matsukawa breathes, tensing as Hanamaki sucks at the tip of his cock, letting his precum melt deliriously on his tongue for a moment. "Nice and slow, pretty baby." The praise makes Hanamaki swallow around him, heat pooling steadily in his belly. Hanamaki thinks about what you do to him that makes his toes curl and his brain go fuzzy, what you do to Matsukawa, too, that renders him uncharacteristically speechless, and tries to mimic the movements despite Matsukawa's cock making him dizzy in the best way.

Hanamaki relaxes his jaw without a second thought. Matsukawa reacts immediately, both hands flying to grip the edge of the counter behind him in an effort to hold himself back as Hanamaki feeds more of his cock into his mouth, flattening his tongue and taking him in slowly, eyes flicking up to his friend for approval.

Matsukawa groans at the look in his eyes, unclenches one hand to pat soothingly at Hanamaki's head. "Doing so good, baby, so good." He's breathless, muscles so tense he seems like he could snap at any second, and it makes Hanamaki's chest swell with pride, even as he has to pause and take a deep, shaky breath less than halfway down his shaft. His jaw is starting to ache, unaccustomed to this kind of use, and though it disappoints him slightly, Matsukawa doesn't seem to mind at all, reassuring him once again that he doesn't have to take it all today.

Hanamaki hums in affirmation, nearly missing the way Matsukawa gasps so sweetly at the vibration enveloping his cock. Hanamaki pulls back, the corners of his lips twitching up, before bobbing back down, pumping his fist over what he can't reach.

"F-fffuck, there you go," Matsukawa says shakily, fingers tightening just slightly in his hair. His hips jerk a little, following the rhythm Hanamaki sets, and Hanamaki welcomes it, humming approvingly until most of the tension in Matsukawa's body slips away, lost in the wet heat of Hanamaki's mouth.

Hanamaki peers up at his best friend through eyelashes clumped together with unshed tears, and something warm nuzzles into his chest, deep between his ribs. Matsukawa is so beautiful, even with his usually placid face scrunched into a focused frown and sweat beading on his forehead, where stray curls of his hair bounce off his smooth, tan skin. His eyes never leave Hanamaki's, flickering with embers of pleasure.

Hanamaki reaches down with one hand to adjust the bulge now straining in his pants, a moan escaping him when he accidentally applies a little too much pressure.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Matsukawa nudges him off of his cock easily, and Hanamaki looks up at him questioningly, licking his lips and wiping at the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. Matsukawa smirks down at him, petting at his hair again. "You like sucking my dick that much, Hiro?"

It's taunting, slightly embarrassing, but Hanamaki can't find it in himself to be humiliated when there's that fondness in Matsukawa's eyes and his chest heaves with the effort to breathe, and knowing that he'd done that to him. Hanamaki just grins, to which Matsukawa raises an eyebrow and grabs his hand, tugging him back up to his level and capturing his lips.

Hanamaki tastes like him, but Matsukawa doesn't seem to mind, only moaning into his mouth and deepening the kiss. Hanamaki melts into it, lets Matsukawa grasp at his waist and pull him closer between his legs, before a large hand dips into his waistband and releases his cock, fully hard again.

"Issei- ?" Hanamaki breaks away to gasp, just as Matsukawa thumbs at the slit, branding his smirk into the smooth line of Hanamaki's jaw.

"Trust me, sweetheart," he drawls, stroking down, coaxing Hanamaki to shift his hips even closer, until his cock presses against his own.

Hanamaki can't help but moan at the friction when Matsukawa's large hand envelops them both, falling forward a little to rest his forehead on Matsukawa's shoulder, his eyes glued to where their hips meet, the slide of Matsukawa's cock, still glistening with precum and his spit, against his own.

It takes Matsukawa two calls of his name to finally get his attention. "Do me a favor?" He takes one of Hanamaki's slender hands, kisses his palm before placing it around their cocks, his larger hand encompassing Hanamaki's and making him whine, both at the warmth and the added pressure.

Matsukawa chuckles lowly, tilts Hanamaki's chin up with his unoccupied hand and presses his thumb to Hanamaki's bottom lip, toying with the plump flesh until it shines with saliva. "You with me, Hiro?"

"Y-yeah," Hanamaki manages, nodding lightly - as much as he can with Matsukawa's hand still holding his chin.

"Good." Matsukawa gives him his most devilish smile yet. He purses his lips for a moment, but before Hanamaki can question him, he presses their lips together.

Hanamaki parts his lips instinctively, eagerly. And then he understands.

Matsukawa pushes his gathered saliva into his mouth, squeezing at his jaw in a silent demand to keep it open when he pulls away.

Hanamaki's breath hitches, and he nearly chokes on it all in surprise.

"Now spit," Matsukawa instructs, letting go of his chin and nodding down to where their hands are still joined together, pausing the movement and raising pleasant goosebumps on the back of Hanamaki's neck.

He tries his best, pursing his lips in a similar way to Matsukawa a moment before, but a thin trail of it still spills out prematurely and dribbles down his chin. Hanamaki aims for the spot where the heads of their cocks touch, entranced at the slow, almost syrupy drop of the mixture of their spit before it lands on Matsukawa's shaft.

"Gooood boy," Matsukawa rasps, sending shivers down Hanamaki's spine. He runs his free hand through Hanamaki's hair before grasping gently at the back of his neck and leaning forward to clean the spill on Hanamaki’s chin with his tongue, tracing it on his skin, then his lips. Hanamaki moans, the sound muffled slightly when Matsukawa kisses him again, deep and hungry, like he's trying to swallow every sound, every breath Hanamaki takes. "Gonna have to practice that," he says between kisses, resuming the pace of his hand on their cocks, making Hanamaki's hips stutter. "Our princess likes it a lot, too."

Hanamaki takes a sharp breath, images of you flashing through his mind: splayed out beneath Matsukawa's ravenous gaze, legs squeezing at his hips, around his head; your fingers clawing at the sheets, scratching at the broad expanse of Matsukawa's back, his muscles tensing because he likes it; your desperate cries when he keeps going, even when tears sting your eyes and you're too weak to his cock, his tongue, his hands to ever deny him. The way you whine, when Matsukawa just stares at you, adoring, and the slow drip of his spit finally hits your clit, slides between your folds before his tongue follows it, scorches it into your skin.

Presently, Matsukawa does the same, letting another drop fall from his lips and down to Hanamaki's cock, and he knows he won't last much longer. "I think I can be blamed for that," Matsukawa murmurs, and Hanamaki can't for the life of him remember what he's referring to when he thumbs at his slit.

Hanamaki's hips start twitching, rutting into Matsukawa's, following the movement of their hands, the slick, absolutely filthy sounds of their wet skin together filling the room. Hanamaki can't find it in him to be embarrassed anymore, surrendering to the need pooling deep in his belly, the desire and unequivocal attraction and adoration for his best friend. He can't stop kissing him, addicted to the taste of him, the sly swipes of his tongue, the commanding grip that tethers him at the base of his skull.

Hanamaki brands his lips into his skin, nips lightly at the bones that poke out beneath them, and in contrast at the muscle flexing and pulling, licks at the salt of his pretty skin. He can't help but smooth his palm across Matsukawa's body, feeling for every little quirk of it and committing it to memory - he knows him so well at this point it's almost like taking a trail he's only ever looked longingly at. Hanamaki squeezes at the taper of his waist, traces his ribs before reaching for his nipple and pinching lightly.

Matsukawa lowers his head from where he'd been relaxing back, pets languidly at Hanamaki's lower back, and catches his lips once more.

"Issei," Hanamaki says, after kissing his jaw, and he doesn't really know what to say, doesn't really have anything to say, he just likes the taste of him, even just his name, on his tongue.

"Yeah?"

But the way Matsukawa looks at him, smirk lopsided and eyes half-lidded, but sparkling with that fondness Hanamaki now realizes he's always had with you, but seems so familiar, from even before then - it makes his heart leap into his throat. "You're beautiful," he says, a little dazed.

Matsukawa's shocked look is just as adorable. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath, eyes wide now. He straightens up and pulls away suddenly, making Hanamaki yelp in protest, but Matsukawa only switches their positions once more and shoves his pants and underwear down the rest of the way, kicking them to the side. He secures one leg in between Hanamaki's, crowding him into the counter. "I could say the same about you," he says with a peck to Hanamaki's nose. He picks up right where he left off, making Hanamaki sigh contentedly, only for him to swallow thickly when he quickens the pace considerably, large hand flying up and down their shafts.

Hanamaki gives up on keeping up, clinging to Matsukawa's strong shoulders instead and kissing at his clavicle, watching the way Matsukawa's hips stutter into his own, his pretty cock so nice and hot and slick against his own. "Issei, I'm gonna-”

Matsukawa kisses the words out of his mouth, teeth knocking into his own before latching onto his bottom lip and tugging. Hanamaki groans, fingers clutching tighter into his flesh. "Me too," Matsukawa hisses lowly, reaching down with his other hand to press and swipe at the heads of their cocks. "Give it to me, pretty boy."

Hanamaki doesn't have to see his face to know that it's punctuated by a cocky smirk. The coil in his belly snaps, and he cums with a high, keening kind of sound that he's almost sure he's never made before, spilling over his own stomach and Matsukawa's.

"Good boy," Matsukawa all but growls, stroking him through it even as Hanamaki's tremors shake them both, even as Hanamaki's grip on him becomes bruising. He takes it in stride, letting go of Hanamaki's flagging cock to squeeze and pull at his own, using Hanamaki's cum to ease the slide of his fist. With just a few more pumps, he gasps, jaw slacking, and ruts his hips forward into Hanamaki's as he cums, painting their skin once more with his own release.

"Fuck, Hiro," Matsukawa breathes, his head falling to Hanamaki's shoulder as he catches his breath.

Hanamaki laughs lightly, exhaustion slowly seeping into his bones. He holds Matsukawa close, letting him melt into his embrace, neither of them acknowledging the sticky mess between them as they both try to steady their breathing.

When Matsukawa finally lifts his head, that lopsided grin is back. He stares at Hanamaki for a long moment, heavy-lidded eyes sparkling with that same fondness as before, inexplicably warm, too oddly familiar. The same look he gives you. The same one he's given his best friend for most of their adult lives thus far.

Hanamaki's heart flutters. Something warm and pleasant surges up from his chest and he suddenly feels like crying, but he's stubborn enough to hold it in.

It isn't hard when he feels so content, so light, he thinks he might start floating.

"Guess we should clean up?" Matsukawa murmurs, fingers tracing random patterns into his lower back, unperturbed by Hanamaki's life-changing revelations, the wide range of emotions ebbing and flowing behind his eyes.

Hanamaki clears his throat, unable to hide the dopey smile that takes over his face. "Yeah, let me-" He tries to shift from Matsukawa's grasp, but Matsukawa keeps him in place with a palm flat across his chest.

"Stay," he says, pecking at the tip of Hanamaki's nose, chuckling when he wrinkles it. Matsukawa grips his hips and steps back, then dips his head down to trail his lips down his chest, soft smile turning a little more mischievous against his skin when Hanamaki's fingers automatically tangle into his hair. He makes his way down slowly, letting Hanamaki lean back with his elbows on the counter behind him. Matsukawa then bends at the waist and starts lapping up the mess on Hanamaki's stomach, the combination of their releases.

Hanamaki gasps above him, and Matsukawa glances up slyly, winks for good measure. Hanamaki blushes from the tips of his ears down to his neck, looking off to the side in embarrassment, now painfully aware that his pants were still around his legs to some extent when Matsukawa slides them the rest of the way down and to the floor without displacing himself, and makes him step out of them.

Matsukawa takes his sweet time, humming pleasantly and pressing his lips to his skin after every languid lick, making Hanamaki shiver when he pulls away and his hot tongue gives way to cool air. Matsukawa glides his teeth over his stomach, making to bite at it, but Hanamaki pulls at his hair and makes him groan.

When Hanamaki feels like his face might explode from how hot it feels, he tugs Matsukawa up. He finds his discarded shirt and swipes roughly at Matsukawa's abdomen, making him chuckle heartily. Matsukawa grabs his wrist before he pulls away completely and gives him a quick kiss, only pressing more into the corners of his mouth when Hanamaki grumbles about how they should shower.

"We should hit up the convenience store," Matsukawa says as he follows Hanamaki to the bathroom, only letting him lead the way to smack his ass playfully.

"Issei!" Hanamaki flinches, tries to be menacing when he turns to face him, but it must look silly with how red his face already is.

Matsukawa makes no effort to apologize. Instead he raises his eyebrow tauntingly, licks his lips as if- "I'm still hungry," he continues.

Hanamaki sighs, wondering how he himself had started with that thought, and somehow ended up here.

But when Matsukawa flashes him that smirk, looks at him like that, he can't deny that he wouldn't have it any other way.

You don't believe it when Matsukawa texts you that Hanamaki had sucked him off in the kitchen, claiming there is no visual proof to make it undeniably true.

When you buy dinner, as promised, and meet up with them as they're leaving the convenience store, pinkies linked and eyes as bright and gooey as ever when they see you, and when they're with each other, you understand. There's an air of pure bliss, the kind you feel when you discover something new and exciting that you know you'll adore.

And you're all too familiar with their post-orgasmic looks.

The marks you know you hadn't made peeking out from beneath each of their collars is just the cherry on top.

You ask them for an encore as soon as you get home.

Matsukawa agrees immediately, after kissing you just to take your breath away. Hanamaki blushes, tries to hide it under his hand, until you force him to face you and kiss him just to make him blush a little deeper.

----------------------------

a/n: thanks for reading!! i truly appreciate all the love the first one got, i read all of the reblog tags and smile and blush abt them for days :') and ofc feel free to hop into my inbox for random thoughts + opinions

[mcmansionhell]

Coronagrifting: A Design Phenomenon

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled content to bring you a critical essay on the design world. I promise you that this will also be funny. 

This morning, the design website Dezeen tweeted a link to one of its articles, depicting a plexiglass coronavirus shield that could be suspended above dining areas, with the caption “Reader comment: ‘Dezeen, please stop promoting this stupidity.’”

This, of course, filled many design people, including myself, with a kind of malicious glee. The tweet seemed to show that the website’s editorial (or at least social media) staff retained within themselves a scintilla of self-awareness regarding the spread a new kind of virus in its own right: cheap mockups of COVID-related design “solutions” filling the endlessly scrollable feeds of PR-beholden design websites such as Dezeen, ArchDaily, and designboom. I call this phenomenon: Coronagrifting. 

I’ll go into detail about what I mean by this, but first, I would like to presenet some (highly condensed) history. 

From Paper Architecture to PR-chitecture

Back in the headier days of architecture in the 1960s and 70s, a number of architectural avant gardes (such as Superstudio and Archizoom in Italy and Archigram in the UK) ceased producing, well, buildings, in favor of what critics came to regard as “paper architecture.” This “paper architecture” included everything from sprawling diagrams of megastructures, including cities that “walked” or “never stopped” - to playfully erotic collages involving Chicago’s Marina City. Occasionally, these theoretical and aesthetic explorations were accompanied by real-world productions of “anti-design” furniture that may or may not have involved foam fingers. 

Archigram’s Walking City (1964). Source.

Paper architecture, of course, still exists, but its original radical, critical, playful, (and, yes, even erotic) elements were shed when the last of the ultra-modernists were swallowed up by the emerging aesthetic hegemony of Postmodernism (which was much less invested in theoretical and aesthetic futurism) in the early 1980s. What remained were merely images, the production and consumption of which has only increased as the design world shifted away from print and towards the rapidly produced, easily digestible content of the internet and social media. 

Architect Bjarke Ingels’s “Oceanix” - a mockup of an ecomodernist, luxury city designed in response to rising sea levels from climate change. The city will never be built, and its critical interrogation amounts only to “city with solar panels that floats bc climate change is Serious”  - but it did get Ingels and his firm, BIG, a TED talk and circulation on all of the hottest blogs and websites. Meanwhile, Ingels has been in business talks with the right-wing climate change denialist president of Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro. (Image via designboom) 

Design websites are increasingly dominated by text and mockups from the desks of a firm’s public relations departments, facilitating a transition from the paper-architecture-imaginary to what I have begun calling “PR-chitecture.” In short, PR-chitecture is architecture and design content that has been dreamed up from scratch to look good on instagram feeds or, more simply, for clicks.  It is only within this substance-less, critically lapsed media landscape that Coronagrifting can prosper.

Coronagrifting: An Evolution

As of this writing, the two greatest offenders of Coronagrifting are Dezeen, which has devoted an entire section of its website to the virus (itself offering twelve pages of content since February alone) and designboom, whose coronavirus tag contains no fewer than 159 articles. 

Certainly, a small handful of these stories demonstrate useful solutions to COVID-related problems (such as this one from designboom about a student who created a mask prototype that would allow D/deaf and hard of hearing people to read lips) most of the prototypes and the articles about them are, for a lack of a better word, insipid. 

But where, you may ask, did it all start?

One of the easiest (and, therefore, one of the earliest) Coronagrifts involves “new innovative, health-centric designs tackling problems at the intersection of wearables and personal mobility,” which is PR-chitecture speak for “body shields and masks.” 

Wearables and Post-ables

The first example came from Chinese architect Sun Dayong, back at the end of February 2020, when the virus was still isolated in China. Dayong submitted to Dezeen a prototype of a full mask and body-shield that “would protect a wearer during a coronavirus outbreak by using UV light to sterilise itself.” The project was titled “Be a Bat Man.” No, I am not making this up. 

Screenshot of Dayong’s “Be a Batman” as seen on the Dezeen website. 

Soon after, every artist, architect, designer, and sharp-eyed PR rep at firms and companies only tangentially related to design realized that, with the small investment of a Photoshop mockup and some B-minus marketing text, they too could end up on the front page of these websites boasting a large social media following and an air of legitimacy in the field. 

By April, companies like Apple and Nike were promising the use of existing facilities for producing or supplying an arms race’s worth of slick-tech face coverings. Starchitecture’s perennial PR-churners like Foster + Partners and Bjarke Ingels were repping “3D-printed face shields”, while other, lesser firms promised wearable vaporware like “grapheme filters,” branded “skincare LED masks for encouraging self-development” and “solar powered bubble shields.” 

While the mask Coronagrift continues to this day, the Coronagrifting phenomenon had, by early March, moved to other domains of design. 

Consider the barrage of asinine PR fluff that is the “Public Service Announcement” and by Public Service Announcement, I mean “A Designer Has Done Something Cute to Capitalize on Information Meant to Save Lives.” 

Some of the earliest offenders include cutesy posters featuring flags in the shape of houses, ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home;” a designer building a pyramid out of pillows ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home”; and Banksy making “lockdown artwork” that involved covering his bathroom in images of rats ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home.” 

Lol. Screenshot from Dezeen. 

You may be asking, “What’s the harm in all this, really, if it projects a good message?” And the answer is that people are plenty well encouraged to stay home due to the rampant spread of a deadly virus at the urging of the world’s health authorities, and that these tone-deaf art world creeps are using such a crisis for shameless self promotion and the generation of clicks and income, while providing little to no material benefit to those at risk and on the frontlines.

Of course, like the mask coronagrift, the Public Service Announcement coronagrift continues to this very day. 

The final iteration of Post-able and Wearable Coronagrifting genres are what I call “Passive Aggressive Social Distancing Initiatives” or PASDIs. Many of the first PASDIs were themselves PSAs and art grifts, my favorite of which being the designboom post titled “social distancing applied to iconic album covers like the beatle’s abbey road.” As you can see, we’re dealing with extremely deep stuff here. 

However, an even earlier and, in many ways more prescient and lucrative grift involves “social distancing wearables.” This can easily be summarized by the first example of this phenomenon, published March 19th, 2020 on designboom: 

Never wasting a single moment to capitalize on collective despair, all manner of brands have seized on the social distancing wearable trend, which, again, can best be seen in the last example of the phenomenon, published May 22nd, 2020 on designboom:

We truly, truly live in Hell. 

Which brings us, of course, to living. 

“Architectural Interventions” for a “Post-COVID World”

As soon as it became clear around late March and early April that the coronavirus (and its implications) would be sticking around longer than a few months, the architectural solutions to the problem came pouring in. These, like the virus itself, started at the scale of the individual and have since grown to the scale of the city. (Whether or not they will soon encompass the entire world remains to be seen.) 

The architectural Coronagrift began with accessories (like the designboom article about 3D-printed door-openers that enable one to open a door with one’s elbow, and the Dezeen article about a different 3D-printed door-opener that enables one to open a door with one’s elbow) which, in turn, evolved into “work from home” furniture (”Stykka designs cardboard #StayTheF***Home Desk for people working from home during self-isolation”) which, in turn, evolved into pop-up vaporware architecture for first responders (”opposite office proposes to turn berlin's brandenburg airport into COVID-19 'superhospital'”), which, in turn evolved into proposals for entire buildings (”studio prototype designs prefabricated 'vital house' to combat COVID-19″); which, finally, in turn evolved into “urban solutions” aimed at changing the city itself (a great article summarizing and criticizing said urban solutions was recently written by Curbed’s Alissa Walker).

There is something truly chilling about an architecture firm, in order to profit from attention seized by a global pandemic, logging on to their computers, opening photoshop, and drafting up some lazy, ineffectual, unsanitary mockup featuring figures in hazmat suits carrying a dying patient (macabrely set in an unfinished airport construction site) as a real, tangible solution to the problem of overcrowded hospitals; submitting it to their PR desk for copy, and sending it out to blogs and websites for clicks, knowing full well that the sole purpose of doing so consists of the hope that maybe someone with lots of money looking to commission health-related interiors will remember that one time there was a glossy airport hospital rendering on designboom and hire them. 

Enough, already. 

Frankly, after an endless barrage of cyberpunk mask designs, social distancing burger king crowns, foot-triggered crosswalk beg buttons that completely ignore accessibility concerns such as those of wheelchair users, cutesy “stay home uwu” projects from well-to-do art celebrities (who are certainly not suffering too greatly from the economic ramifications of this pandemic), I, like the reader featured in the Dezeen Tweet at the beginning of this post, have simply had enough of this bullshit. 

What’s most astounding to me about all of this (but especially about #brand crap like the burger king crowns) is that it is taken completely seriously by design establishments that, despite being under the purview of PR firms, should frankly know better. I’m sure that Bjarke Ingels and Burger King aren’t nearly as affected by the pandemic as those who have lost money, jobs, stability, homes, and even their lives at the hands of COVID-19 and the criminally inept national and international response to it. On the other hand, I’m sure that architects and designers are hard up for cash at a time when nobody is building and buying anything, and, as a result, many see resulting to PR-chitecture as one of the only solutions to financial problems. 

However, I’m also extremely sure that there are interventions that can be made at the social, political, and organizational level, such as campaigning for paid sick leave, organizing against layoffs and for decent severance or an expansion of public assistance, or generally fighting the rapidly accelerating encroachment of work into all aspects of everyday life – that would bring much more good and, dare I say, progress into the world than a cardboard desk captioned with the hashtag #StaytheF***Home. 

Hence, I’ve spent most of my Saturday penning this article on my blog, McMansion Hell. I’ve chosen to run this here because I myself have lost work as a freelance writer, and the gutting of publications down to a handful of editors means that, were I to publish this story on another platform, it would have resulted in at least a few more weeks worth of inflatable, wearable, plexiglass-laden Coronagrifting, something my sanity simply can no longer withstand. 

So please, Dezeen, designboom, others – I love that you keep daily tabs on what architects and designers are up to, a resource myself and other critics and design writers find invaluable – however, I am begging, begging you to start having some discretion with regards to the proposals submitted to you as “news” or “solutions” by brands and firms, and the cynical, ulterior motives behind them. If you’re looking for a guide on how to screen such content, please scroll up to the beginning of this page. 

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If you enjoyed this article, please consider subscribing to my Patreon, as I didn’t get paid to write it.  

[binniesthighs]

hi hi cuties and thigh enthusiasts!! just about a day ago my lil blog full of hornies and changbin thirst reached 1,500 and i am just jaflkjasd :’) since then haha 

ah ah this post is already so cheesy hehe but i wanted to say thank you so very much from the bottom of my heart for following me along with my journey with this blog! after having the hobby of writing for the greater part of my life, i’m so immensely thankful that i started this blog and hopefully took ya all on some of the crazy adventures i keep locked up in my head hehe 

having this blog has been such a wonderful experience, from learning about myself as a writer, exploring the many, many hornies that i’ve got, and most of all, meeting all of the freakin’ fantastic individuals in this community! ~thank you to each and every one of you for being the sweetest, loveliest, most hilarious and welcoming people i could ever wish to meet and have the honor of getting to know and write for!~ 

to celebrate, i wanted to make a lil list n’ love letter to my lovely pals for ya to check out! there is fkn CRAZY talent on this list and i highly recommend that ya check out everyone and their masterlists! 

to my moots~ GAH I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH my whole experience here on smutblr has been made absolutely amazing by you all! GOSH hehe i am full of so much love for you all your brains are seggsy as hell and i’m always rooting for you!! thank you so much for being my friends <3 

to my readers~ my loves, thank you, as a writer, to bee seen and heard fulfills every word i write and every lil idea i scribble down. wherever ya are in the world, thank you for taking the time to read my pieces and for sending me love. you are my reason!! 

to my anons~ thank you my darlings for all of your kindness, screams in my inbox, every song rec, hard thought and word of encouragement. my lil anon family i love you and appreciate you all so much! thank you for reaching out to me and makin’ a lil home on my account! it means the world to me! <3 

to my bunch of (ro)ses~ thank you so much for hyping me with each of my updates, for showing up in my notifs and being overall frickin’ angels! thank you so much for reading as always and i hope that ya like what’s to come! 

~hehe i wanted to write ya all lil messages too! while they just scratch the surface, please know that i love ya all to the moon and back!! 🥰~ 

🌹Writers🌹

@aliceu ~ alice, hehe here’s to all the times that we would ramble about fantasy aus and bounce ideas off eachother, thank you so much for being my go-to and my muse at times! your works are literally magical my love! 

@bearseungmin ~ hehe dawn i think that you might be one of my oldest moots on this list! ever since i started out here in this lil corner on the internet, you have been the most supportive, sweet individual there is to me and I can’t say thank you enough! i’m also like, highkey obsessed with everything you write hehehe 

@binniesbrat ~ oh my gosh té , hehe lol i will bring this up over and over again bc i’m just so ah ah it makes me melt but fun fact hehe back when i was babybinniesthighs, té reached out to me, and made me felt like i belonged--i literally lysm! your hornies are fantastic my dear, we are so lucky to have you here! 

@bruh-changbin ~ dear sky, while we’ve only talked a little in asks, i wanted to express how very dear you are to me! hehe when i update and you hype me up it literally makes my whole frickin’ day! you keep me going! not to mention that your writing is *chef’s kiss* teehee 

@bubblelixie ~ ah! kc! we’ve also been moots for a good while, i think back when i was babybinniesthighs too! hehe your overwhelming love and support of me makes my heart frickin’ swell and seeing you in my notifs and my asks with hornies makes me feel so dang fuzzy! you are quite literally one of the most adorable cuties on here! your writing also just *knocks me out* OOF 

@chaangbin ~ ours is quite the story dear hazel bean...meaning....i was like, the biggest, nerdiest fangirl of your work for quite some time and very very shy to tell you that it was me ahhhhh haha well here i am ooP your writing is so beautiful and human and immersive in so many ways! i’m crazy lucky to be moots and friends with ya! omg if i say more i will literally embarrass the heck out of myself hahahhaha

@decembermoonskz ~ beautiful izzy, you are such, and i mean such an inspiration to me. the way that you write is so gorgeous and i feel as if i’m in every scene. the way that you create worlds and place your readers in them is frickin’ insane! hehe i love obsessing with ya over chan any day and night! keep goin’! 

@dom--minnie ~ len, when i think of comfort, i really think of you. the way that i feel so safe with ya is like, insane. even when we first started chattin’ i just knew that we had an amazin’ thing coming hehe. from horny rambles to literally just talkin’ bout life, i am absurdly lucky to have met you here! you literally deserve everything wonderful in life and i love ya so much! 

@etherealeeknow ~ gah gen, my dear, the way that you checked up with me over my lil break just huhuhu thank you so much for being such a lovely and caring person towards me and everyone else whom you meet! you are so precious and i hope ya never forget that! 

@fight-me-m8 ~ darling and sweet rosetta, FRICK literally when i think of you oh my gosh i get the fuzzies, i’m so happy that we met and that i was able to witness the beginnings of your account! you have so so much love to give and i will fight you and give you more love back. bb i’m so happy to have you as a moot! 

@film-in-my-soul ~ alex! hehe while our friendship is still in the bb stages, i wanted to throw some love your way too!! i’m so hyped to write with you in the future and talk even more! i love how fast we clicked when we started talking about BLs AHA darlin’ you are so sweet and i can’t wait to get to know ya more! 

@formidxble ~ kim oh my god, you are a frickin’ force. when you entered this community a lil bit ago, and then made it your own, sharing with us your beautiful brain and lovely kindness, i swear the world must’ve taken a breath or something LOL you always astonish me with your works and i’m literally so excited for what the future holds for you! 

@hanflix ~ i think that i speak for so many of us here that rue, you are truly an inspiration. back when i was starting out and even now, reading your works feels like such a treat and i try to savor them all up! as a writer, i look up to you so much and as a wonderful, humble and hardworking person i look up to you as well!! thank you so much for welcoming me when i was babybinniesthighs ilsym! 

@hongnanglen-arina ~ arina my fuckin’ love oh my god if i could fly to where you are i frickin’ would!! i really think that the universe did a lil somethin’ somethin’ allowing us to meet. i feel so comfortable with you talkin’ about anything and everything especially hornies they are fkn’ unbridled. i can’t count how many times you’ve made me topple with laugher at like 3am. i’m so happy to have you in my life! 

@hyunsluvv ~ kathy istg you are one of the sweetest people i have had the pleasure of meeting on this lil corner of the internet! the care and love that you give to each of your anons, moots and in your work is truly astounding. i remember when you were just starting out i knew that big things were in store for you, and they still are! hehe

@imagineinnie ~ el, you are literally an angel if i have ever met one. it means the whole world to me when i see your dms, and the way that you check up on me and so many others goes to show the utter kindness and selflessness that you exhibit. cutie, thank you so much for always cheering me on and being such a light in this community!!

@instachans ~  kenny, although we’ve just met, i’m already so excited for our friendship to come! you are such an angel and have so much love to give, i’m so thankful that you slide into my asks hehe the future holds such amazing things for you!  

@itsapapisongo ~ javi, my dear, there’s just somethin’ about us that flows like frickin’ water. i feel like there’s the people that you meet in life that you kind of just click with, and i’m immensely grateful that i’ve met you. your love, support, hornies and lethal timing with gifs keeps me smiling. you are an astonishing writer and i feel so lucky to be here with you! 

@jisungsplatforms ~ sweet ina hehe i’m so glad that ya slid into my asks the day that you did! your vibes are so sweet and peaceful and i feel as if you and your account are such a safe place! i love, love sharing hornies with you over our boys! there is so much ahead for you my dear and i can’t wait!!! 

@mochinnie ~ omg i’ve totally said this before so many times, but i am so, so wowed by your work isa and they stick with me for like days after i read your pieces! i am so utterly inspired by you! i love your blog’s aesthetic and how you are always truthfully yourself i admire this so much! when i was starting out your works kept me goin’! thank you so much for this hehe 

@mzmezzler ~ ryan you literally deserve the whole world! not to mention that you are doing god’s work writing sub!skz! sweets, each of your pieces are so wonderful and imaginative and your lil memes and thoughts are so cute! please always keep doing you!! 

@ohmysparkle ~ sparkle: oh my gosh where can i start??? you are one fkn’ badass sparklin’ cat and my freakin’ role model. every day i am so astonished over how well spoken, wise, and reasonable you are while also being off the walls unapologetically yourself. my dear plz always shout with me about sub!hyunjin teehee 

@seungmoomin ~ nia big sexy brain!! holy shit the fkn talent in this bus? astronomical! nia i am absoluately WEAK over your writings and highkey you as a person over all! i swear, your blog is a gold mine and your personality is so wonderful i can’t put it into words LOL there’s no one quite like you and i can’t even count how many times you’ve got me dying laughing here ily!!

@yourdaddychan ~ LUNA my queen of capitalization and screaming in dms, you add a spice to my life that i didn’t know was missing. talking to you in every  format is fkn fantastic and lights up my day no matter how gloomy its been. i really feel like this is your world and i’m just livin’ in it LOL I LOVE YEW

🌹Readers🌹

@introjoonie ~ mai, this account would literally not be in existence if not for you, and it’s provided me with such happiness over these few months! thank you so much for encouraging me to let my hornies to the wind, and for listening to all my rambles about it since. thank you so much for being a lovely best friend, cheerleader and person. i’ll be seeing you soon!

@jeonglixie, @lechanters, @inlovewithasa, @pixxie-lixxie ~ my loves there is something so, so beautiful about each and every one of you, i cannot thank you enough for reading my works and for being so overwhelmingly supportive and kind with your feedback time and again. i’m so blessed to have such wonderful readers such as you! my time here on tumblr has been made by you and so many others of my unbelievably sweet readers!

@lovesfaith ~ ahh tumblr is being rude not letting me tag ya but sweets i just wanted to thank you so much for your kindness too! i adore talking with ya about astrology n’ just life and the way that you read me like a book is CRAZY haha thank you for being you Bambi! 

@meow-minho  ~ marine, every time that i see you on tumblr i am so thankful for your grace, and just lovely welcoming vibes. i am so thankful to have such a lovely person as you in my life and i can’t express how much me (and i’m sure so many other writers on here) appreciate your feedback. thank you so much!

@synnocence ~ wonderful cee, since first meeting you i feel like i’ve had the pleasure of getting to know such a wonderful human and equally amazin’ fellow bin stan! i can’t thank you enough for how much you’ve helped me grow my bin collection! dm-ing with you is always such a joy and you deserve the frickin’ world my friend!!

once again, thank you so much for poppin by and giving me a read, an ask, a dm or simply just sending bin pics my way hehe 

i hope to write much more in the future and to lash out with all the hornies that i’ve got! i can’t wait to share more with you all! thank you so much for being my motivation, as well as seggsy ass cuties who i am so lucky to share this space with!! 

have you thought about changbin’s thighs today yet? well...now you have 😉

[bluebuckstallion]

the sun will rise again - mlp fic

part two this is part one! part two and so on will be updated/reblogged when they are out! contents: aj and big mac are like. 13 and 15. big mac realizes she is a trans woman, and is guided by applejack, but there is much more to it than just that lol. its also a little hard for her. sappy, feel-good, tough internal conflict but overall happy fic. paragraph one is previewed here, the rest is below the cut! (note: i am aware my blog makes posts a little hard to read bc of a glitch, i am trying to fix it at the moment, i apologize D: i rec reading it on tumblr mobile or highlighting the words as you read, im sorry!)

-

Big Mac shuffled his hooves awkwardly. Racing thoughts fought furiously, cluttering his hurting head, and he put a weary hoof against his temple in an attempt to clear the fog. No avail. It was as strong as ever, the rushing current of rip tide sweeping him in the more he struggled. He insisted he'd never felt this way before, trying violently to shake away the thought, it made him shudder. But deep down somewhere he knew, he couldn't hide this strong feeling he'd become so familiar with. It felt like home, but he was trapped inside with the windows boarded and the floorboards were so old they were making him fall through with every step, and there were thick dusty cobwebs everywhere he tried to rest his burdened hooves. He couldn't leave. Outside of his overflowing head, there was a faint knocking at his door, though he had tuned it out completely. His thoughts whirled, and everything was making *so* much noise, the ceiling fan, the electricity in the walls, the birds outside, even the trees being rustled by the evening wind. Everything was so loud, and so muffled and far away, so close and inside his ears, they twitched eagerly trying to bat the harsh noise away, all collected into one horrid ear-piercing amalgamation of staticy sound. His fur was disturbed by his blankets, and his teeth felt uncomfortable as they grit desperately in an attempt to relax, his eyes were dry despite how much and how hard he was blinking, it felt like even the smallest thing would throw him overboard in this thundering storm of unsettlement. -

The knocking got louder. "Big Mac!" The sound was lost in the chaos of it all, but it prevailed. "Big Mac!" There it was again. It didn't quite reach him yet, though. But my, was it there. Incessant. Pounding. Oh, the headache of it all. Just adding to the pile. It hesitated. "Big Mac." The gentle coo reached him, piercing through the overwhelmingly loud silence in the air, he felt this odd choking sensation in his throat when he registered the voice, so familiar and so loving. But would it continue to be after this? The thought scared him. Fear struck his spine in striking bolts, waves of dread sulked, creeping in and making their nest in his aching body. He was so tired of coming back to this again and again, but it plagued his mind like a cold. He realized his internal monologue had been ongoing - even though it hadn't really spoke - but alas he had been lost in his own downward spiral of paranoia again, and had forgotten to respond. "Yu- uh- eeyup?" he stuttered out like he was drowning, he felt and sounded like a silly foal learning to walk for the first time again. He pushed his hoof lightly against his throat, shocked at his own lack of voice. Usually he was calm and confident, knowing what he wanted to say, despite how little it ever was. However he feared this would give way to his sister finding out, that she would know something was awry with him. "Can I, uh, come in?" the voice questioned. He nodded, then processed he had forgotten to use his words, and managed a sheepish "Yup." "Uh, okay." She responded equally as softly, her voice leaving a tinge of confusion to be interpreted. Applejack trotted in, her hooves making the wood beneath her creak as the old house settled. She nudged the door shut behind her nonchalantly with her back hoof, not taking her gaze off of what was ahead of her. She made a gesture towards Big Mac's bed and tilted her head, knowing he was a horse of few words, moreso when he got this way. And goodness, how he could manage to get into his own head. Applejack understood the feeling, more than he was letting on. Applejack got up and sat down awkwardly, glancing at her hooves as they, too, dragged over one another slowly, she never did like eye contact. Big Mac was more fidgety - he was straight-up restless, as he clapped his hooves together ceaselessly, clicking them atop one another with a hard "Clink." The silence was substantial, but it wasn't like it bothered them, usually. It drove Big Mac up the wall, he was sweating buckets thinking about what Applejack could possibly say. *Did she find out? Does she know? Does she hate me? She hates you. She knows and she hates you. She'll never forgive you. She'll never see you the same-* his thoughts were cut off abruptly. "So, big brother," she chuckled stiffly, "what's on your mind?" Blunt and to the point. She looked upward briefly, catching a glimpse of his face, caught in an uncomfortable twist as his mouth hung downward and his eyes sunk, staring blankly ahead. Neither of them looked at the other, but this again, was not unusual. When she said 'brother,' the word stung like a mosquito bite. It was barely there, but just enough to irritate him. And it grew bigger the more he picked away at it and gave it the time of day. Maybe if he just ignored it it'd heal itself, he thought. Her words in general hung high above his head, and he had forgotten to respond with the way he was over-analyzing it a million different ways inside. What was on his mind, besides this scary, burning question gnawing him alive? He gave a lackluster response to divert any inkling of anxiety, "Oh, nothing," and with that he kicked his back hooves loosely up, and they swung back down heavily in the empty air. What else could he say? The silence sat for a couple of seconds. Too long for Applejack's liking, she was growing a bit impatient with his lack of answers. She looked up and moved her head upward in tune with her eyes, rolling her head from one shoulder to the other as her lips pouted and she let out a quick exhale. She looked down at her teetering hooves again. "Nothing..." she repeated, tapping her hooves together about three times, give or take, she wasn't paying attention. "Oookay.." she said in a quiet tone, and the cadence in her voice had shifted after this minute or two of waiting. She scratched the back of her ear. "Well, if you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself." She looked up and beamed what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, which came out rather awkward. It fell just as awkwardly. She wasn't the best at conveying emotion, but neither was Big Mac. They had that in common. "Ok, I'll spit it out, rapid-fire," she said funnily, holding her hooves up and moving one in front of the other and back again in tune with the quirky enunciation of the last word. If nothing else, she was making an attempt to lift his low spirit. She inhaled, "Is it about me? About Ma or Pa? *Granny?* Baby Bloom?" and with that she exhaled overexaggeratedly. It took a second, but the half-smile she had faded from her face as he stood there saying nothing, simply folding one hoof over his other arm, rubbing it rigidly and looking away, and what she hoped was not true, had hit her. It was about himself. "Oh.. brother," she whispered to him, "You can tell me anything," she reached her hoof up toward him, pulling it back when it was halfway there as she winced at his lack of response, not even a lean-in to her gesture, but she continued anyway. She gingerly put her hoof on his shoulder. Becoming more confident with her comforting, she rubbed his back gently. "So it's about you?" He took a second, and nodded somberly. "Hey, that's alright. Tell me what's on your mind for real now, when you're ready. If, you're ready." AJ's voice, he found, was quite calming. Big Mac shot a glance at her timidly, then down at her hooves, and back up at her, but he couldn't look too long in order to stop the waterworks from coming. He gulped dryly and looked at the wall, and after the ceiling. He watched the fan dodder decrepitly, but so sure of itself, it's purpose, rotating on it's axis, again, and again, and again. He wished he could be so sure of himself, he wasn't sure if he ever could be, though. And here, he found himself envying the rotating of a ceiling fan. What an interesting moment, he thought sarcastically to himself. Was this really where he was at? He zoned out briefly, watching the blades go in circles, and then snapped himself back to reality with a hard blink, a downward motion of his head, and a squeezing of his hooves. "I..." he started softly and then trailed off. He sighed in dejection. "I- Well, I am me. But... I'm not. I look in the mirror, and it's not me looking back. I know that sounds... stupid, but it's not me. It's not like it isn't who I am, it's just not me. And I, don't know why. I mean I think I do, but I don't - sometimes-" He took a second to collect himself and inhaled, exhaling sharply after, he put his hoof firmly against his chest, as if almost trying to coax the words out. "I'm me, but I'm not. I'm not who I'm meant to be, I, I was born wrong. My body is wrong," he shook his head, like trying to shake the bad thoughts away. "It's not mine. I was born with something wrong about me, outside, inside I'm me, but outside I'm not. But - I'm not bad or anything, it's just that there was something different. And, you know that funny feeling of those butterflies in your tummy when someone you like says your name? I'll get that, but I won't recognize my name as mine, but I do get that feeling when...ponies accidentally call me what they call fillies, even though they don't mean to and fix 'emselves right after, and they act like it's so wrong, but I still get that funny feeling of, goodness. It catches me off guard in the best way... my heart skips a beat. And I know I'm s'posed to like girls, but there was something wrong about me lovin' 'em... it feels like. I feel real guilty-like when I start getting all lovey about one. It feels like I'm not allowed, like there's somethin'.."  he teared up, "different. About me." He emphasized the last word quite significantly. He began to finish, not wordvomitting as much as he was before, instead saying it slowly, as if he was really trying hard to get his thoughts out. "I- I think, I think if I were born in the right body I'd be happier, but I don't want to change me, I just...want to change how people *see me."* Applejack raised her eyebrows and looked down, pushing her hooves together. She couldn't move, and she didn't. Big Mac's welling up had turned to a tear, gently rolling down his cheek. He held his breath, eyes darting back and forth from his sister's gaze - or lack thereof. Applejack held her breath as well. "Big mac, well - gosh." she let out staggeredly, anxiously chuckling, raising her hoof to her chest as she exhaled bluntly. Big Mac felt it coming, Roaring and Crashing. The water was surrounding him still, no matter how subtle it was before, it had been growing this whole time. Internal dread multiplying like a bilious bacteria, out to get him and cover him in it's killing spores. It must've been at least neck-high now. AJ chuckled, "Big Mac, I love you no matter what. You're my family." She looked him in the eyes, "It's gonna be ok." And there was the straw that broke the camel's back. It came through gently, like a soft breeze through his hair in summer, but it broke him so, so ruthlessly. He bit at his bottom lip and released, his mouth turning to a shaky U-shaped frown, and he bawled. Oh, how he bawled. He lunged for his sister's arms, which quickly opened for him to land in. Applejack huffed as the wind left her with his impact, but she regained control of herself and softly smiled, tenderly hugging him back. His head rested on hers, as hers on his. "It's alright big guy," she laughed. "In fact, I think I know exactly what's up." She pushed him off cautiously, and held her hoof against his shoulder. His tears subsided slightly, he wiped them with a trembling hoof. "Have you ever thought that maybe you feel like you're in the wrong body, because you're really a mare? I know nobody sees you that way right now, but I could start if that's who you really are." Big mac's pupils constricted, and he felt a leap in his chest. A mare? He tried so hard to push it out, but he couldn't. A mare. A mare! He let out a small smile, "A mare..." he then promptly shook his head. "But, I can't be. I wish it was that easy, that I could just be a mare, oh I wish so bad AJ," he put his hooves together and shook them, like he was pleading. He pushed her hoof off of him, sighing and speaking again, his voice cracking from the tears and raw emotion, "But I never could. I couldn't. I wish I could, but I'm not allowed to." he sighed defeatedly. Applejack chuckled, "Says who? All it takes is you saying you can. And I'll be honest, I feel like a lot of people don't give it much thought whether they want to be a mare or not - they just are." It all clicked. They, just are. He processed it for a second, and thought, and the thoughts slipped into words, "I'm a mare," he whispered. He smiled, the most genuine smile he'd ever shown. "I'm, a mare." He laughed, looking at Applejack. "A mare! I'm a mare!" His smile faded slightly, "But Applejack, am I still allowed to like other fillies? I figure now I'll have to like colts, that's what I've heard at least, and I really don't want to-" despite his concerns, he still looked quite euphoric. Applejack laughed again, "No, Big Mac, you can still like mares. It doesn't work that way I'm pretty sure." She rubbed the back of her head, "If it's any help, you can do whatever you want... What feels right." She closed her mouth and grinned, waving her hoof in the air dismissively of any negativity, her eyes in the other direction. Stopping, she looked at the ground and fiddled her hooves, "I, I actually know a lot about how you're feeling," she spoke nervously, cautiously, dancing around her words like she had something she didn't want to admit to herself as well. "I, know how you feel - about liking mares and, and the wrong body an' stuff. Feeling like your body isn't yours, it doesn't belong to you and never will, unless you make a big change, or somethin'. I get it. I feel wrong when people say I'm a girl, but I don't reckon I'd feel right with them callin' me a boy or something either - I don't think I really feel like either." She paused, cutting herself off, "I don't expect that to make sense to you, I know it's kind of weird and all." Big Mac thought for a bit, and then nodded, "No, I get it. I mean - I don't, but, I know you're you, no matter what, and I don't care who you are, you're still my sibling." Big Mac smiled nervously, trying to make sure he was doing the right thing. "And you're my sister, Big Mac," Applejack smiled back at him. "Now, how do you feel about me calling you by girl terms? Like, sayin' she, and stuff..." she struggled to think of an example. "Oh! Like, if I meet someone, I'll tell 'em "Oh Big Mac? She's my big sister!" Applejack let out a wide twinkling grin, feeling confident and proud with supporting her sister's feelings. "I, I like that." Big Mac said shyly, and she did. "Wait, how do I do the same for you?" she questioned. Applejack stalled, she really didn't think she'd get this far. "I think... I really like being called he, and brother and such. Although to be honest I'm not your sister and I'm not really your brother, and I still like other fillies - but I'm not one of them, or not in the same way, and - I don't know, it's a little confusing. I think the only way that I'm a filly is in the sense that I'm a mare who likes other mares. I don't really know what any of this is called," he voiced embarrassedly. "I wish I did." Big Mac smirked, "It's okay you don't, I don't know either. And we can learn together, little brother." She fluffed Applejack's hair playfully and her smirk became a toothy smile. Applejack laughed and joined her smiling. "Thanks," he said, quite gratefully. "To be honest, I've known this for a really long time, I just didn't know how to say it," he looked out the window longingly, "I wish I knew how to tell Ma and Pa, or Granny," he laughed a little, "and I don't even know how to tell a baby," he uttered, trying to lighten the mood a little after bringing it back down. Big mac grinned, "Why don't we go out to the orchard, little brother?"

[musicallisto]

Ψ — 𝐜𝐨́𝐦𝐨 𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫; (leo valdez x reader)

@fives-cup-of-coffee​ requested: Hi can I please get Leo Valdez (Hoo) + number 142? Tysm,bb ! Love your blog💗💗 song: morat - cómo te atreves | 𝄞

summary: In which Leo Valdez was having a good day. That is, of course, until you showed up.

word count: 1.9k author notes: at first I wanted to make it light-hearted & comical as the song would suggest and then it progressively got more serious and angstier and then I just have no idea where it went lol I hate it here. I hope you like this! + stan Morat they’re amazing warnings: there’s like one bad word in Spanish and I hope it’s not too Spaniard bc I looked everywhere for a Mexican equivalent of “cagüendios” asdjdj Mexicans please correct me

𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐙 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 have had the boldness of saying he was having a good day. No bloodthirsty monster nor megalomaniac Titan had decided to take over the world or rip him to pieces; he hadn’t had to dodge a meteor or plunge into the heart of a volcano; and to top it all off, he had not heard Percy sing once.

No, really, despite the cold, biting wind that froze the February morning, Leo Valdez was having a good day.

That is, of course, until you showed up.

Maybe it was his wind-swept curls blocking his eyes, maybe it was the whirring of Festus’ mechanical breathing under his fingertips, maybe it was the total peace of mind that inhabited him as he whistled to himself, but he had been impervious to his surroundings, surrendered to the memory of his aerial stroll with Calypso earlier in the morning, completely devoted to patching the dragon’s attrition up, so much so that he hadn’t heard you approaching at all. In his defense, he wasn’t expecting your visit after this many years, especially not on a cold morning in the woods of Long Island.

“Leo?”

“Woah, buddy, your clicks are starting to sound more and more like a real human voice. I might have to celebrate your first word soon.”

“Leo Valdez, behind you.”

He whirled around, and stupidly enough, the first thought that went through his mind was disappointment—so Festus wasn’t learning human communication after all, despite his best efforts. But when Leo pushed the hair out of his face and devised for the first time in four years your slightly embarrassed figure, hands buried in your pockets and abashed smile on your face, he couldn’t stop his jaw and heart from dropping.

So the suspect, gravelly grunt he had heard just before was not Festus protesting—duly noted. It was you, impatiently—and rather awkwardly—scratching your throat to catch his attention... You! After four years!

“Y/N?” he called out, and the way your name rolled off his tongue, with incredulity yet ease, was enough to remind you of how familiar his voice had once been.

“In the flesh. Ta-da,” you tentatively exclaimed, unsure about whether you should step toward him.

Leo seemed just as lost and confused as you were, eyeing you without truly processing it. No one, nothing had ever prepared him to face the return of someone he’d loved so dearly after losing them for so long. No prophecy had foretold any of this, no mischievous god had ever sent a cryptic message in a dream or smoke patterns. One day he had more or less started to accept the unshakeable hole you had dug in his heart when you left, and that he had tried to fill up as well as he could with new memories and songs and adventures — and the next you were waltzing back into his life as though he hadn’t spent the better part of four years struggling to forget you?

He took a small step forward without realizing it, but his body language read all but cordiality. A bubble of irritation started to form in the pit of his stomach and throat; he had started to fidget with his adjustable spanner.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Behind him, Festus grated, a low and rumbling sound like still water stirring upon the approach of a storm. Leo swore he heard his heartbeats echoed in the loyal beast’s enormous ribcage.

“What do you want from me, Y/N? Haven’t you done enough?”

Oh, you had done more than enough. When you were friends and he had first fallen for you — you had mended his broken heart, stayed by his side as everyone went on to celebrate life and renewal and he was stuck in the downpour that Calypso’s first departure had wreaked. That was more than enough. When you were just a little more than friends and he had started to learn anew, step by step, what it meant to love, and first and foremost let himself be loved — you had been patient and kind, you had walked hand in hand with him on the road to healing, never pushing him to go further than he could. That was more than enough. When you were definitely more than friends, and he had found himself falling deeper in love with you with each passing day — you had loved him all the same, or so you promised, and made his every day an adventure and a safe embrace like no other. That was more than he ever deserved.

When you had left without warning for some foreign place on the other side of the world, leaving him only a note and a handful of colored glass shards, never to give a sign of life in four years...

That was more than enough.

You had dared to take one step forward, palms outstretched as if you were calming a wild animal. A frenzy of conflicting flames bubbled in Leo’s stomach — you were a stranger now to him, and he was once again happy with Calypso. Then why did he get the overwhelming urge to jump into your arms and rediscover the sweetness of your embrace?

“I’m so sorry, Leo, I never wanted to leave, I truly didn’t, but you have to understand —”

“Understand what? That whatever business you had to attend to was more important than me? That I meant so little to you that you just left me a post-it note with a sad smiley face on it and never came back? You didn’t send a word in four years! I bet you didn’t even think about me on February 29th!”

“Actually I left in April, but —”

“Can you imagine how hard it was for me to get over you? To forget you? No, scratch that—I haven’t forgotten you, no matter how hard I try to convince myself. But I was doing just fine, and you have a whole lotta nerve coming back now that I’m finally happy without you! ¡Pues huevos! ¡Al carajo todo esto!”

And he went on and on in a string of all the curses he’d remembered from when his mother argued on the phone, his cheeks reddening progressively, his breath faltering.

You stayed immobile, just an arms’ length apart from him until he had spewed out everything he’d carried for years. His chest trembled, shuddering at all the dust and waste it had swept under the rug, now displayed in full light before him; and you ached for him, underneath your cool composure, you truly did, just as you had ached yourself when you had left. How could you not? Leo had been light and warmth and fire and a comforting smell of smoke and gasoline and coffee-stained fingertips on your cheek and your neck... and most of all, the heart you would least have wanted to break.

“Leo...”

You murmured his name a few more times, until he looked up at you. Oh, that face, red and weepy and distorted by rage and overwhelm! How you hated it in those moments, like a cheap mask over a Roman statue!

“Leo, I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t excuse anything, but trust me, I would never have done that if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“What was, Y/N? What was more important than me?”

“I... I can’t tell you, Leo. I would if I could, but — “

“Of course! Even after four years, you’re still so full of secrets!”

“Jupiter told me not to say anything. To anyone.”

Leo’s parted lips, already fuming with more witty remarks, closed shut, and his chocolate eyes widened. The god of gods’ name was always enough to temper even the most boisterous of heroes’ fumes of anger, but not Leo’s erratic heart.

“Jupiter?”

“I got a mission from the gods. That’s why I left. To Rome. But they made me swear I didn’t say anything... not even an excuse.”

Leo swallowed, with difficulty, as if the information was a toxic flame permeating his throat. Before he could even register it, you continued, breathing deeply to steady your breathing:

“I owe you more than an apology... an explanation, at least. If you want to hear it... meet me in the woods at the gate of Camp Half-Blood at sundown. I’d understand if you didn’t come, but... just know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

For a split second, you were traversed by the thought, almost automatic, of leaning over to kiss Leo’s cheek, just like you had done it thousands of times to wish him goodbye; but you cut your impulses fast enough, only staring at his eyes for a few long minutes of dumbfounded silence before you turned on your heels and left.

In a single blink, the wind had caught your silhouette and carried it into the shadows of the trees.

And Leo stood there, colder than he would have admitted, motionless and partly oblivious to Festus’ impatient whirring over his shoulder. His chest rose and fell rapidly, quicker than the leaves rustling in the breeze; it had dried in his eyes too much for any tears to well up, despite the painful pang spreading in his chest. Had it not been for the weight in his ribcage, he could’ve believed you were but a ghost in the forest...

When you had left him without a word nor even a glimpse of a smile, Jason had admonished him to be brave and stronger than whatever misery you had inflicted; to not let any of your little games gnaw at his head and drive him wild. It was how Jason had always dealt with heartbreak and hardship because he was built of cold marble and electric stone; but despite Leo’s best efforts to follow his advice, he was Hephaestus’s son. Neither of them was exactly known for their fine handling of matters of the heart...

He had believed his inalterable strength would come back to him with Calypso. It was an endless ebb and flow between the two of you, each consoling him after the other left and tore a little piece of his heart. She had promised she’d be better — better than you, or than herself the first time around, he didn’t know, but he had believed her all the same.

But maybe what Leo had mistakenly taken for strength when he laughed himself to death with Calypso and captured her entirely with his lips, might have been solely absence. He had always had a knack for following in your steps... just like you had slipped from his embrace without a word, he had disappeared from himself imperceptibly.

Maybe he loved Calypso, truly and sincerely... but not in the way that allowed him to find himself.

Well, to hell with courage, with Jason’s heroic virtue and rectitude. Leo was realizing just then that the reason he clung so desperately to your memory was that he wasn’t ready to let it go just yet, and if it made him a coward, he accepted the fate with open arms.

“Come on, buddy,” Leo exhaled, a little shaky still. “Let’s get you patched up before sundown.”

Maybe it was a good day after all.

Or just a less-than-awful one at the very least.

tagging; @fives-cup-of-coffee​​ @softeninglooks​​ (all my writing) / @lxncelot​​ (Riordanverse)

[dallonm-archive]

[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]

july writing update

Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.

But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️

excerpts under the cut!

general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata

I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.

revelations, revelations ;

Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!

(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)

There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.

life cycle of massive stars ;

Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)

In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.

And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)

Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.

This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days

nocturne for the holy ;

Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe

The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.

love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)

eulogy for our burnings ;

-looks away-

girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:

1991, UK.

2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.

Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns

Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic

There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too

Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)

The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol

And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!

[ghoulciifer]

hi! if you’re not overwhelmed with anything else can you write headcanons of kirishima,bakugo and shinsou with a s/o whos quirk side effects is being dizzy and tired

hc: Kirishima, Bakugo, and Shinsou with an S/O whose quirk has side effects of being dizzy/tired.

tw: none

tags: comfort, fluff

notes: hi bby, i am not overwhelmed by any means LOL my blog is still very small and i get an ask once in a blue moon but that’s my fault for not posting enough content ouchie. but ty for requesting!!! as always i really appreciate it when you guys let me know what content you want, and my inbox is always open to requests. n e ways, i hope you enjoy this n ily

» so i think it is abundantly clear that kirishima is an absolute sweetheart, the BESt boy

» which means it’s no surprise that he’s super supportive and conscious of how your quirk affects you n your body

» when he saw you overuse your quirk for the first time during an extra long training session for the agency you both worked for (before you two started dating), he damn near passed out himself

» bby boy RAN to your side and held you up by your shoulders, leaning down to meet your drooping eyes, his own blown wide open in concern

» “y/n??? you okay??? did something happen??? are you hurt??? do i need to-“

» he’s just a golden retriever istg

» but once your head finally started clearing up you assured him that you’re fine, it’s just a side effect of your quirk

» and you could practically see the worry leaving his body as he visibly relaxed, his hold on you loosening just a bit but never going away (bc he’s lowkey still worried)

» if you’re feeling embarrassed bc of it he’ll reassure you that it happens, you’re still badass and he admires you AWE

» now that you two are together and have been with each other for a while, he knows what to expect and how to handle the situation when it occurs

» knows your limits and when you’ve met them, instantly at your side to support your frail body, bringing you water or a snack for the fatigue so you can build your energy up, supportive boyfie things

» “Do you want the granola bar or the yogurt??? Or I can cut up some fruit!!! I have juice and an extra water bottle and-“

» always tells you how great of a job you’re doing, regardless if you’re upset or not because he just likes to remind you

» i wasn’t lying when i said he is the SWEETEST boy

» he also doesn’t really know if it helps but he always hums while he’s rubbing your back, pushing your head to his chest or shoulder after sitting you down to recuperate

» little does he know that it actually kinda does bc hearing the vibrations through his strong chest really keep you grounded

» wow you are a simp for this dude it’s ok me too uwu

» now this firecracker

» he wouldn’t show his initial concern as expressive as kiri would, but he would definitely panic internally on the same level (if not more tbh, fuckin’ tsundere)

» you two are sparring for shits and giggles, right

» and as you expected he already told you beforehand that he will NOT go easy on your just bc you’re his s/o maybe a lil’ tho bc ur cute

» plus he’s never seen you in combat before because you try to keep heroing out of the relationship so you can just focus on each other when you’re together (this friendly fight is the ONLY exception)

» what you didn’t account for was just how much energy he was making you use, it literally felt like you whole body was going to give out by the end of the match

» you were so close to pinning him down when your body suddenly collapsed and you passed out from fatigue

» he didn’t go into full on panic mode but he definitely went wide eyes and eyed you for a bit before kneeling beside you (boy KNOWS he didn’t fuckin’ kill you, he has control believe it or not)

» and internally he’s all ASHSGSJAFSK WHAT

» so he cautiously pulls you into his arms from the ground and into his chest, arms wrapped around your frame to give you support for when you regain consciousness, calling your name a few times to speed up the process

» he also holds you like this so he knows your breathing (again, he knows he didn’t kill you but just to be sure??)

» when you wake up finally he asks if you’re alright, voice much softer than usual so he doesn’t make the ache in your head worse

» you shyly tell him about the side effects of your quirk upon request and he grunts in response, still cradling your head to his chest with a thumb lightly rubbing against your spine

» “...well damn babe, you’re strong as hell for holding out that long. I thought that fight was never going to fuckin’ end.”

» that’s just his special way of telling you he’s impressed w your abilities and limits, uwu

» now he makes a point to ask if you had any dizzy spells or moments of fatigue during the day when you come home from patrol, just to make sure you were still feeling okay (bc he wouldn’t be opposed to holding you again)

» never admits it but he’s the one who sneaks an extra energy bar in your work duffel before you leave for the day c:

» i might go overboard on this one because shinsou is my BOI, i love this lil’ sleepy head so fn much

» and one of the main reasons why is bc he’s very caring and understanding n will show you that if you’re close enough to him

» which you are bc you’re his s/o, duh lucky bitch >:(

» you got to see this side of him first hand when he saw how your quirk affects you when you push a lil’ too hard

» you were at home, hanging out with your fav boy after a particularly hard day at work, shinsou rubbing your legs that were draped over his lap affectionately

» he could tell you were exhausted but he just figured it was from all the hero work, my guy is v familiar with that feeling

» he did notice you were much quieter than normal bc usually the vacant air was filled with you talking about your day, laughing at his witty jokes, making fun of your mutual friends’ decisions to post certain things on social media i’m lookin’ at you denki

» but again, he just pinned it on your experience with work today so he just sat there massaging your shins while you rested

» eventually you had the impending pressure of needing to pee press uncomfortably on your bladder and the longer you ignored it, the more you realized how close you were to pissing yourself

» so you hoisted yourself off the couch with a groan and the second you stood up, you immediately saw stars and it felt like the world around you was turning at mach fuckin’ 20

» Shinsou (being the perceptive bean he is) immediately had hands around your waist the second you began to sway and reach for anything around you to stabilize, that thing being his arm

» “Woah, woah, woah, easy... you okay, baby?”

» You couldn’t see (yk bc you were literally about to fall over) but the way his brows furrowed upward and his eyes glazing with concern would’ve made your heart go doki doki

» You squeezed your fingers against your temples and kept your eyes closed while you assured him you were fine, it happens, you just overexerted yourself with your quirk today

» He helped you lean against the side of the couch and rubbed your shoulders, standing on his knee on the cushions behind you, muttering sweet things in between your slow inhale and exhale exercises

» tried to sit you down again but you still had to peE

» “Do I need to walk you to the bathroom? Hold your hand while you go?”

» “You are NOT holding my hand while I pee, ‘Toshi.”

» You were ok after a while and successfully made your bathroom trip, but that day he made a mental note to keep an eye out for the signs he wrote off earlier

» On those days he always offers you massages, a cute lil’ cuddle sesh, snacks, even urges you to sit in his lap so he can play with YOUR hair for once boy is selfish when it comes to head scratches

» And will proceed to whisper sweet nothings into your ear during all of the above <3

[ghost-town-story]

First Lines Tag

Thanks for the tag @emelkae!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line, then tag some of your favourite authors! 

This’ll end up long, so I’mma tag people here and toss a read-more partway through. With no pressure as usual, I’ll tag @writinglyra, @pseudepigraphic, @cheshawrites, @incipientdream, @seasteading, @sourrcandy, @citywillow, and anybody else who wants to!

Alright, time to start with the ones that have tags on this blog, then wander into older AU territory

(adding year written bc why not)

Astral (2020)

The sound of the dungeon door opening startled him awake, though he didn’t move from his cot. It was only when the door closed gently behind the visitor that he rolled to his feet and approached the bars of his cell. “Long time no see Calipsa.”

Nova (2019)

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he had woken up, but now that he was aware of it, the knowledge scratched at him, urging him up. He reluctantly stretched, relishing the feeling as his joints popped, then finally opened his eyes.

He immediately recognized that he was in some sort of hospital, but how had he gotten here? Where was here?

Title Redacted (2012. A relic since I haven’t started the rewrite yet lol)

“Crap”, I thought, watching my wall of water being beaten back by his fire.

Traitor Queen (2020)

The bar was crowded and noisy, like it usually was after the races. With all the commotion, it was hard to keep track of who was where. Which was why, when Holli turned to make a comment, she was disappointed but not surprised to find her companion had vanished.

On her other side, Johnson noticed her looking and leaned down to be heard. “I saw him wander out a couple of minutes ago.”

Dumbass Immortals (2021)

In her defense, Milo tended to be incredibly distracting. So in all honesty, it wasn’t completely Alysia’s fault that she wasn’t looking where she was going, and therefore ran smack- dab into the guy.

“Are you okay?”

Alysia looked up. Icy blue eyes stared down at her with concern.

“I’m fine.”

Stars (2021)

My first breath tastes stale and plastic, and I’m retching before I’m even half- awake.

Sensations return in flashes; padding under my shoulders, pale blue light interspersed with red, the pressure of a mask over my face, a dull ache in my arm.

I hold my breath for a few moments to claw the oxygen mask off my face. At least now it doesn’t taste like I’m licking plastic.

Lost Beneath the Waves (2021)

The carriage slowed to a stop at the foot of the palace stairs, the rain sloshing around the wheels. As the driver hopped down, the palace doors opened, revealing a man who hurried down the stairs.

“Lord Coranth!” he greeted as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “I’m glad you arrived safely.”

“Likewise.” Lord Coranth stepped down from the carriage, careful to avoid stepping in any puddles. “It’s good to see you again, Aranadar. I just wish the circumstances were better.”

Space Pirates (2021)

The first thing they realized was that they were breathing. Their mother’s words echoed in their head; Breathing is a gift Caelan. Don’t ever forget that.

They took a deep breath, then another, relishing in the feeling of air actually filling their lungs. Right then and there, they decided nothing could ever compare to the terror of trying to take a breath, only to find no air to breathe.

Powers AU (2019)

Aydan was always the first one to the forest path that lead to their small village, but she never minded waiting for the boys to catch up. Even today, the last day of school, she was in no rush to get home.

The breeze brought a whiff of salt water, and Aydan felt a sudden longing to be out on the water. But knowing her father, that was no real surprise.

Magic AU (2020)

James stared up at the building, doubt stirring yet again. He shoved it away again, just like he did every time. After all this was his best shot, their best shot at fixing their mistakes.

A familiar presence brushed against James, but James brushed them off. Lay off.

Now for the random AUs. Some of these are real titles, some of them are just the doc names, some are me sassing my past self. Which one’s which should be fairly obvious I hope lol

Of Fairy Magic (2018)

The night is hot and muggy And in the distance is the sound of drunk college seniors up to their last shenanigans But they avoid this place Even drunk they understand it’s best to be other places tonight

Prologue to a mermaid AU I never wrote (2014)

Cold. He’s so cold. “Come on,” the pirate growls, grabbing James by the arm. James stumbles and whimpers, but doesn’t protest. He knows it’s better if he doesn’t say anything

Fountains at Night are Pretty (But Not as Pretty as You) (2017)

You trail your hand through the water of the fountain, and I watch, entranced at the way the light flickers across your face. After a moment, you look up at me. “This is the secret surprise you wanted to show me?” you tease.

“Of course,” I reply, closing the distance between us and sitting next to you at the edge of the fountain.

Gems (2017)

The water sloshed around James’s knees, and he gritted his teeth, bracing himself a little more firmly against the shifting sands. Another wave crashed into him, and he debated letting the water take him, but then it withdrew, leaving James feeling cold again.

Mother I can tell what you’ve been thinking (2016)

Melody woke up from her impromptu nap feeling vaguely uneasy, as if something important was missing. She quickly shrugged it off though, getting out of bed. Of course something was missing. The stillness of the tattoos on her arms attested to that.

The story I should have called Ink Stained (2015)

Blue eyes flitted nervously around the crowded bar, and shadows shifted under his cloak.

Shh. He lightly dragged his fingers over his right arm, and the shadows followed his fingertips. Shh. Calm.

Soulmate Colors AU (Stars) (2015)

Divo sat on the bus with his arms crossed, glaring at anybody who dared to look at him or Nicoli the wrong way.

“You know,” Nicoli sighed, putting away his phone and resting his chin on Divo’s shoulder, drawing the older teen’s attention away from the rest of the bus for a moment, “I wish I could see colors.”

“Don’t we all buddy,” Divo mumbled.

Dragons! (2014)

The stable door opened a crack, letting in a woman carrying a bundle of blankets.

The dragon in the corner stirred, opening silvery gold eyes. Your mate won’t be happy about this you know.

“Shh,” the woman whispered, mischief sparkling in bright blue eyes. “He doesn’t have to know.”

Damp Cement and the Scent of Rain (2014)

It’s the smell of the damp that really makes Kai restless. All day it’s been grey and dreary, sometime between sixth and eighth it turns dark, then ninth it starts raining and storming.

The rain drops in a steady flow from the roof above, heard loud and clear through the half-open window, and almost seeps into the cement building, giving it a cold, damp smell.

When You Wish on a Star (2013. Another relic of pre-rewrite OG)

“Alex, get back here!” Jasmine’s voice echoed down the stairs.

I glanced at Will, an eyebrow raised, and Will groaned. “Whatever she’s done now, I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

[slightlymore]

Hi are you possibly still giving advice? I have this problem that I'm scared of taking up new activities cause I automatically feel like I'm gonna fail. I'm so unmotivated like honestly I just want to start doing something cause boredom is eating me alive but at the same time I tell myself 'it's not worth the effort, there's no point'. I'm tired of lying in bed all day but getting out of that comfort zone terrifies me. I want to change but I physically (and mentally) can't. (1/2)

(2/2) On top of that my mom constantly compares me to other people my age who are super outgoing, have summer jobs etc. She always asks why I can't be like them, what is wrong with me, that my life is slipping through my fingers and so on. She wants to motivate me by saying such things and all I wanna do is cry. She just doesn't get that we have completely different personalities and how much energy it takes to do anything. Sorry for rambilng I don't want to talk about it with anyone irl

alright, so there are many different things to talk about here. first of all, why do you want to take up new activities? and what does that mean for you? like hobbies? if it's a hobby then it must be something you like. and here is another question. why would you take up a new hobby? because you enjoy it. that's it. when you do something that you're not obligated to do, you only do it because it can be fun, that's it. the outcome is only that. fun. it must feel good. I think everyone nowadays has the impression that activities should be done only if you're good at it or if you get some type of income from it whether it be money or personal development. and I do it too!! unfortunately!! if I do something I'm like "welp is this something that makes me a better person? like learning a new language, reading a book etc." bc if it's not then I feel like wasting my time. and it's so so so wrong!!! we need to learn to do stuff only because it's fun! take me writing on a tumblr blog. I was crap at first at it. perhaps I'm not good even now, but I kept persevering because it makes me happy!! I don't get money from it, I barely get feedback from it lol (I appreciate everyone who does give feedback so so so so much tho!!!), I'm just here using hours and hours of my time doing something apparently useless. but guess what. it's not! because I have fun and I enjoy writing and I don't care what other people think of it!!

so, activities should first of all be fun. they don't have to be "because your friends do this and idk why you're not". honestly, fuck them friends. you do you. also it's not true at all people you age are outgoing and do summer stuff etc. most of us are online watching tiktoks, so comparing is really not useful at all lmao why is not being outgoing bad??? if it's because you'd want to be and you're shy or insecure, that's one thing that we can work on, but it it's because you genuinely just want to vibe in your room and you feel content, then that's great!!

second of all, you don't have to be good at something from the beginning to do something!!!! I think you were a gifted child and when you were younger things came natural to you. now, when you have to do something from scratch it's hard and rightfully so! but only because you're not good at it from the second you start doing it, it doesn't mean that your persona has to get hurt. your worth is not based on that! you don't have to be perfect. you're enough right now the way you are. if you look around and see people being good at something, chances are that they kept practicing it hard!! take idols, no one was born dancing and singing. they worked so fucking hard for that and it should inspire us!

third, you might have been through some trauma, like either your family saying you were not good at something or people at school somehow making fun of you. and now you don't even want to start! you need to change the beliefs you have about yourself. your brain believe everything you tell it!! if you keep saying that you're this and that it will believe me. so instead of feeding it negative images of you, feed it positive ones. I know it's sounds like some hippy bullshit, but I promise it works!!

the solution is to just do something privetly. do something new in private and don't let yourself be your worst critic. imagine yourself in 3rd person. would you tell your friend everything you tell yourself? I doubt. you'd encourage them. try something new where no one can see you, where you can feel safe and free of criticism. see how it goes. confidence doesn't come overnight, it's something you build. if you see yourself succeeding at something your get euphoria and you'll break free of this sad cycle.

last thing I want to touch up on is that failure is good. failure is not a bad thing. it's normal. legit everyone and I say EVERYONE fail. you don't see it because they keep it a secret. you look around and see all of these people just succeeding and you're like "damn I'm such a failure in comparison". but you don't know how that they had to fail first. maybe multiple times. but they just keep going

so please, do something because it's fun!! you can be good at it or you can be bad at it!! the point of it, since you think it's pointless to do something if you're going to fail, it's the fun and the experience!!! you won't know what you're good at and what you're not good at if you don't try it!

[howelljenkins]

oh btw if u have any thoughts on like. i suppose small celebs but even like “popular” blogs on tumblr being treated as just channels for people to throw their thoughts at rather than people to engage with, id love to hear!! it’s a weird niche thing i’ve been thinking about a lot but i have no idea how to articulate it and i like how u word things

omg i was literally thinking about this yesterday and mourning all the people who were genuinely interesting and funny and got bogged down by the flood that comes with notoriety where you’re forced to become a one dimensional caricature of yourself. i had typed out a bunch of stuff but it turned into a big block that was hard to understand so like here are my initial thoughts broken into categories and this is not even close to scratching the surface of what i think but. here it is

1. the sheer amount of attention they get. i just know it’s exhausting to even think about posting something. it gets to the point to where every single post comes with the added burden of having to think about every possible response to the post because it’s inevitable that it’ll be taken the wrong way or twisted or misunderstood and you have to decide if it’s even worth it. there’s no way to continue facilitating small discussions at a certain point because you’re bound to have antagonistic viewers or ppl who don’t genuinely want to talk to you and just exist to derail everything so at that point they have to just become like. the most pared down version of themselves possible and be too exhausted to post anything outside of what their audience happily consumes because they can’t deal with the flood that it comes with.

2. the inbox thing!! people do not have boundaries and tend to remove the humanity away from the influencer/blogger (dms and those ask functions on insta stories in terms of influencers in place of asks). like you don’t really view them as a person any more. one thing i’ve noticed on here is a lot of people use popular users’s inboxes as a way to filter their own content and find out what’s “good” or use it as a way to get their own joke/headcanon/whatever into circulation because they don’t get notes. this isn’t when bloggers are talking about something and ppl continue the conversation in asks but like getting asks out of the blue that are literally obviously a tumblr post draft that someone wants to get your approval of is weird and it makes the blogger feel removed from their own sense of humanity as well because they realize they’re sort of being immortalized or turned into a landmark.

3. also continuing on the askbox thing. with both this point and the point i made previously i find myself constantly having to reiterate my boundaries and remind ppl of what is and isnt appropriate to send in an askbox and it is so hard to do without being branded as mean or bitchy. I just remembered I made a post about it here but basically what i said is a lot of ppl use popular bloggers as a stand in therapist or diary and trauma dump while simultaneously guilt tripping ppl into replying. u can read the post i linked for like more thoughts about that. 

4. constantly being watched!! i alr kind of said this but being constantly watched is so overwhelming and kind of trapping in a way, especially with the knowledge that people are looking for any reason to start an argument with you or throw accusations at you.

5. they can get to the point if they’re not careful where their own self image is so warped by it that they buy into the idea that they are like this prominent famous figure. which they might be like thats cool if you are! but you’ve already lost your humanity in the public’s eye and you start to lose your own humanity and morph yourself into the caricature you’ve been presenting because why wouldn’t you! i’ve seen it happen to ppl who gain a little instagram notoriety where they begin to view themselves as a provider or better than others and enter the mindset where people are lucky to be around them and it genuinely deteriorates their ability to keep meaningful relationships bc they lose the ability to separate their persona

ok this was very messy and very surface level and so scattered i wish i had the time to flesh everything out lol but like those r some of the things that came to mind

tl;dr popularity and notoriety strip people of their perceived humanity, exhaust them into becoming caricatures of their former selves, and remove their access to creative outlets or past hobbies because they are constantly being watched and lifted onto a pedestal they never asked to be on

[haildoodles-writing]

so, kinda along the lines of the R/D stuff, at least personally i’ve been nervous to start writing bc i have an idea!! i really want to write it!! i’m in other fandoms but this is the first that i’ve actually enjoyed reader content; it’s a whole new amazing community to me. and in the sense that i’d be “starting from scratch”, it’s really intimidating to put myself out there when the market is being dominated by one work... any tips you can give? or even blog recs to nudge me in the right direction of cool ppl in the fandom? sorry if this is really jumbled or doesn’t make sense

Oh my goodness, PLEASE write it!! I’m happy you’re starting to enjoy xreader content as well; both xreader and OC fics have such amazing writers and fics! If you ever end up posting your work, I’d love to read it!!

I completely understand how you’re feeling, though. I’ve been writing for a while now, but I never actually put my work out there until around a year and a half ago. And if I’m being honest it was pretty frickin terrifying at first, because I was constantly comparing myself to other writers, other writing styles, popular accounts with lots of interaction, and the “big fics.” It was pretty debilitating for me sometimes—because comparison is the worst thing ever, but comparison about yourself from yourself? Yeah, that’s the worst stuff.

The best advice I can give you tho is to jump right into the deep end, to be honest. Everyone has to start from somewhere, and all of us have had to “start from scratch” at some point. It’s tough at first, but I promise you it’s worth it! It takes a bit to settle in, but as you grow, meet new people, and interact with those around you, it’s a super fun place to be.

As for writing in a fandom like this where one fic kind of “trumps all,” it can be pretty hard sometimes to both find the motivation to write and post said writing. But again, it’s just a matter of just going for it, you know? There are a lot of writers and readers alike who are branch out and spread love to other fics as often as they can, and those people are still around in this fandom!! I have a list of tips that can help you out in gaining interaction that I can write up for you if you’d like (that is, unless you’re already aware of them hahaha).

I know a lot of the stuff I said in my previous posts have been pretty negative about the Din fandom, but that mostly was from a place of “I’m tired of this and i want this to be dealt with” sort of thing lol. In reality, the Din fandom can be pretty cool when you’re with the right people—I mean, I met the closest online friends I’ve ever had through the Din fandom! And I said it before in passing, but I want to say it again: the RD fandom is, at this point, separating from the Din fandom. The ones that are still here for Din content are pretty chill and willing to reach out to different creators—so really, when you post, I would mentally remind yourself that you’re posting your writing for the Din fandom. Not the RD one. When it comes down to it, there’s a big, big difference between the two.

As for some cool people to check out, here’s a list of people I follow that I think are pretty awesome! Most of them post Pedro content and aren’t specific to Din, but they’re still cool lol: @bestintheparsec @mrpascals @hiscyarika @forever-rogue (@dins--djarins is her sw-specific account) @aerynwrites @murdermewithbooks @pascalisthepunkest @sunshinepascal @lovingtheway @pikemoreno @scribbledghost @mandolovian @tiffdawg @huliabitch @dindjarindiaries @themangolorian @keeper0fthestars and many others!! If you find a good egg then stick with em, they usually flock in groups 😌

I admit that I haven’t been reading as much Pedro content lately (aside from my mans Oberyn lol) as I’ve been branching out into different fandoms and looking at different stuff on AO3, so I’m not super up-to-date on a lot of Pedro fics. But within the next few days I’m going to be putting together a fic/author/artist/content creator recommendation post for everyone to use, so you can check out those accounts as well!

So, yeah. Hopefully my rambling helped you out a bit hahaha. Let me know if I can be any more help, and I hope to see some of your stuff sometime!❤️❤️