#I feel like i didn’t fully articulate what i wanted to say

[bloomburnburial]

.

[lustylita]

Switch Haven

COME AND GET IT!

@hurthermore and I collabed together and created this masterpiece! Enjoy!

Imagine him waking you up in the dead of night with his hot cock rubbing between your thighs.

With intrude, you wake up ever so slightly with a grogginess you weren’t expecting. Taloned claws gripped the flesh of your cheeks before a familiar voice hushed you, telling you, warning you to be good and just let him fuck your tight little cunt. “I’ll do all the work darling, I just need to feel you. Now open up and let me fuck you senseless.”

Still out of it, you respond with instinct alone by lifting one leg and bending it at an angle by the knee; giving him full access to the intimate area only he had the pleasure of ever experiencing. Your walls throbbing with need, you didn’t know what had happened for you to become so wet while you were still sleeping.

With praise, Alastor mumbled into your ear, vocalising how good you were, how you’re his perfect little slut, obeying him and only him without even needing to be fully conscious. His cock began sliding into you oh so slowly as one hand gripped around your neck whilst the other slid down to strum your clit.

The slow and passionate pace he set had your orgasm rising quicker than usual, the soft pets he gave you touched you just right, the way his hot, groaning breath tickles your ears as he kisses your neck had you overwhelmed with stimulation.

Clenching down on him with how fast your orgasm began to rise, your back arched to get his long length deeper into you, forcing an incoherent whimper of his name to become the only thing you could manage to articulate. The pull of sleep still trying to claim you, even though your body was exhaustedly hot and tense, you bucked into his cock that thrusted in and out of you, but the hand that played with your throbbing bud kept you right where he wanted you.

Softly, his sharpened yellow teeth bit into the flesh of your shoulder as your walls squeezed him with intent, massaging and pulsing down on him as you coaxed him further into his own peak. The fingers against your clit pressing harsher against it as his thrusts become slightly faster, his enjoyment of the situation becoming all too clear. Your eyes became heavy, unable to truly process anything as your exhaustion remained present, yet you cried out as Alastor claimed a peak from you, forcing your gushing juices to coat his hard and throbbing cock that laid within you.

The feeling was unique, the pleasure, on one hand, was blinding, but the relaxation it brought you was exquisite. Becoming slightly more aware, the tips of your fingers reached back, finding their destination through your lover's red and black hair before scratching at the base of his ears; knowing full well that this little act of petting would help him reach his peak quicker.

Rubbing his ears with softness, his groans became louder in a shuddering sensation. His lips that laid against your ear began to mumble away as his ecstasy induced orgasm began to cover not only your walls, but had seeped into your cervix. Whining out your name in a low husk as he fucks his orgasm into your cunt, he speaks, relaying to you how perfect you feel, how you belonged to purely him. As his cock began to splatter the last drops of his cum, he placed his lips against your shoulder, sucking with harshness, creating a suction against your skin as he left sloppy hickies marked on your flesh.

Letting out a content moan at the familiar feeling, you loved the sensation, the idea and the enactment of being filled so completely by him. Chuckling in his grasp, you had found this to be the most sexually arousing thing he had done to you by far. "You should wake me up like this more often, my love." Your voice is still groggy due to your unconscious mind only recently being awoken, but the call of sleep was far out of your reach now.

He sighs contently in your ear at your comment before whispering against it. “Careful what you say, my darling, or you’ll be losing sleep at a rate that will have you begging me to stop.” He mumbled before gripping your posterior, pulling you apart to watch, to witness his own ejactulation glisten from your cock stuffed cunt. 

“Promise?” You murmured in a tease, your own breath stuttering as you jolted from the sudden sensation of his large hand spanking against the flesh of your ass in a retaliating act of your comment, his pelvis pushing into you ever so slightly as he assaulted you.

With a wicked smirk you pushed back against him harshly, clenching down on his sensitive cock still buried balls-deep inside your stretched cunt. 

"Why don't I return the favour? You took care of me, my big strong buck, let me take care of you instead now." Turning your head to look at him in the eye, you batted your lashes softly, knowing, understanding, that this little act of begging would get him to agree to just about anything.

Breathlessly, he agreed by manhandling your still slightly sleep induced form to straddle his lap; his cock not once leaving you, somehow. With a moaning grunt, you flinched as his cock reached further within you, bullying the opening of your cervix at the new angle. 

“Go on then darling,” He groans as he gyrates his hips, thrusting them up into yours to push his tip into your cervix. “Take care of The Radio Demon and jump on his cock.” Letting out a breathy moan at his words, your form leaned backwards to grip onto Alastor’s thighs for support. 

You loved this side of Alastor. He had always felt so authentically himself when he was tangled in your sheets and his cock snugged within your core.

Lengthening out your spine, allowing his large cock to hit even deeper into your cervix, you smiled down at him as you began to move, began to rock against his thrusts, twisting your hips with every downward stroke. Increasing your speed, your breathy moans stayed still within the depths of your oesophagus every time Alastors tip rammed against your cervix, not caring that your core and thighs stung with overexertion.

"You feel so good my buck; so big. No one could fill me up the way you do." You moaned as you tilted your head back, exposing the bite on your shoulder that he had inflicted but moments ago before you bucked against him, practically bouncing on his fat length.

“And no one can take me like this, darling. Only you get to take my cock. Always you.” He murmurs as you bounce slowly against him, your mouth agape as his claws etch into the crevice of your hips. 

Crying out at his words, your back arched backwards as you pressed yourself further into him with every bounce. “I’d hope so,” You moan as your bouncing never ceases. “Considering that you’re all mine.” You hiss as your jumps against his cock become harsher.

Purring at your words, Alastor bucked his hips into you harshly as his palms assisted in guiding you onto his cock, showing how he loved it when you got as possessive about him as he was for you. "Prove it to me, my little doe~" He groans up at you, causing your eyes to light up in challenge.

Gracefully you lean forward, forcing Alastors thrusts to halt as he peers up at you curiously. Attempting to ignore the way his burning hot thick cock throbbed against your twitching walls, you place a supporting hand on the flesh of his sternum as the other wrapped around his throat with a subtle squeeze.

It was a sight to see; your delicate fingers hardly making it around the circumference of his neck. But with the help of your freshly manicured claws you were able to restrict his airflow successfully. "Careful what you wish for, my buck~" You smiled dangerously as you slowly began to resume your aggressive pace from before.

Oh how the tables had turned as you jumped against his cock with vigour, with such force it caused your skin to enact a slapping sensation against his with an echo. The bed creaking with more potency than intended. 

As his groans mixed in with the tunes of the sexual sounds that already reverberated within the room, his tongue lapped out from his lips as he panted like a damned dog, unable to speak but a word as you only slightly cut off his air flow. You could tell he was becoming dizzy, disorientated as his eyes stopped looking at your beautiful face as they began rolling back into the depths of his skull. 

“Dont you dare stop watching me as I fuck you, Al.” You mumbled through your teeth as his cock bullied your womb.

On your knees, you buck against Alastor harder, your combined fluids sticking your ass to his pelvis every time you grind down against him. Grabbing a fist of his red hair with your free hand, you forced him to make eye contact with you.

“I want you to remember every detail of this, Al.” You bared your teeth at him, the friction against your clit borderline excruciating, but it didn’t slow your pace, as you were determined to see the Radio Demon cry. Loosening your grip on his neck, you could tell he desired air as little droplets of tears emerged from his waterline. “Come on handsome, sing for me, I know you can.” You groaned down at him.

Lifting your hips up until only the head of his cock stretched your entrance, you grinned with cheek and cockiness. But knowing that your actions were sure to bite you in the ass later, you stop and clench down, intending on milking the entire situation as far as you could before it ceased.

“Fuck, darling.” He groaned behind his sharpened yellow teeth as your hips snapped your clenching cunt down on him, fucking him into submission, his cock twitching as you squeezed your walls with intention, milking him, coercing him into another orgasm.

His claws dug into you, forcing droplets of blood to seep from your flesh as you continued to bounce, each bounce harsher, harder and more ferocious than the last. His moans begging that you don’t stop, that you were perfect, and all entirely his. And as he focused his eyesight at the action of your core slapping against his cock and pelvis, he could feel a second orgasm peak as remnants of his previous ejactulation splattered against the flesh of your cunt and the skin of his pelvis.

Moaning at the delicious pain, your fingers grip against his neck again; Alastor's words of love and encouragement spurring you on, motivating you to go even faster. Without thought, you morphed into your demonic form, using the extra strength it provided you to stay upright and push against him harder.

Crying out your lover's name, your moans raised in volume and pitch as your own orgasm began building up within your lower abdomen, the heat of everything becoming more and more prominent. With a harsh grind against his pelvis, you crashed into your orgasm, full lips parting in a wordless cry as you gushed around him. You weren’t sure if you had screamed or not, as the blood rushing through your ears made it hard to audibly intake anything.

Feeling your walls clench in a fit of spasms, Alastor’s clawed talons gripped your neck and shoulder before pushing your entire form backwards; forcing your back to hit the bed behind you. With a snarling grin, Alastor fucked into you relentlessly as you continued to cum on his large, throbbing cock.

Eyes rolling back, you let out a pitched squeal that faded into a choked gasp as Alastor clenched his large, clawed fingers around the delicacy of your neck. Stuttering out Alastor’s name, you could barely coherently speak as the blood that circulated your body rushed south, his strong thrusts forcing your orgasm to intensify into a squirt, flooding his length with your orgasm-induced juices as he continued to abuse your cervix with his fat, wet and throbbing cock.

Needing something to grasp onto, your palms reached up to grab one of his pointed, fluffed ears as your other hand gripped the back on his head, forcing him down into a messy open-mouthed kiss.

Feeling his lips connect with yours. your cries become muffled, ceasing them to echo into the pits of the room and into the mouth of your lover. His reciprocation of the kiss forced your squirting cunt to prolong ever so slightly as your legs twitched around his hips. Yet despite your orgasm, Alastor seemed hell bent on fucking you back into submission. “Such a dirty girl, cumming all over me like that.” He teased you as he pulled away from the kiss. “It’s quite the sight when you take control, darling.” He had somehow managed to mumble through his sexual groans. “But I do love seeing you submit beneath me; so submit and cry for me.” He mumbled through his teeth as he thrusted into you at a pace that was sure to break your pelvis bone.

Lips trembling, you could barely hear your lover’s words, but the look he sent your way had you squeezing hard against his length. You loved egging him on, the rewards made it so worth it.

Would you be able to walk today? No. 

But will the ache be worth it? Yes.

Tilting your head back you let out a keening whine, eyes blurring with tears as your pelvis goes numb with the pleasure. Screaming out his name, your voice strained with how much you were screaming that your mind began to become dizzy, too overwhelmed, but also wishing that Alastor fucking you with such roughness and passionate love would never end.

As you yelled out his name again, his thrusts became uneven, uncontrollable. And as he continued to kiss your swollen and abused lips, Alastor’s cock stilled into your cunt as he released his own additional orgasm with an usual moan that echoed into your mouth. His movements twitched with every spurt that left his tip, forcing him to thrust against you when every new spill that exited his cock.

You swore you could hear him mumbling your name against your lips as he rode through his orgasm, and as your fingers latched around his face, he seemed so in love as he finally relaxed inside of you.

With a content moan, you trembled underneath him, body now aching in the best way as you became boneless. You craved to have him as close as possible, to have his heated skin flush against yours. Trailing your hands to travel up his back ever so gently, you ran your claws lightly up and down his back. "Fuck Al... i can barely feel my legs." You let out a breathless giggle, nuzzling into the crevice of his neck before pressing open mouthed kisses to any piece of skin you made contact with. "I hope you know I'm not leaving the bed today."

Pulling away from you, Alastor pressed a soft kiss against your lips before descending his head to your cunt. With wide eyes, you watched as he lifted your thighs over his shoulders, only to hover his face over your cum soaked core; his eyes not once leaving yours as he inhaled the musk of not only your cunt and its juices, but the musk of his own seed deeply.

Your eyes widen at his movement, your legs trembling as you suck in a sharp breath. "Al?" Your voice cracked as you knew if he even pressed his nose against your clit, it would sting in such a delicious way.

Choking a gasp, his face pressed against your core; his tongue flattened as he petted your clit. 

Mewling, you could only reach for his antlers as the pleasure and overstimulated pain he inflicted onto you had you conflicted on continuation. You could hear him almost growl as you tugged his antlers, seemingly unsure on whether you wanted him to pull away or carry on. 

But Alastor had seemingly decided for you as his claws latched into your thighs before he sunk his prolonged tongue into the depths of your cunt. Bucking against his mouth involuntarily, you let out a moan, not really understanding if it was induced by pleasure or pain.

Twisting your fingers you begin to stroke at the base of Alastor's antlers in retaliation, your hips twitching against his mouth from the pain. "Fuck!" You cried out with a stutter, panting so hard that your lips began to tingle.

How was this pleasurable? 

You had no idea how, but the warmth, sloppy and wet feeling of your lover's long tongue lapping at your walls began to feel less sore and more warm and tingly.

"Al, please!" You had no idea what you were begging for, but fuck did you need it. Feeling him tightening that stupid smirk of his against you, you cried out in overstimulated pleasure. His teeth grazing the lips of your cunt as he furthered his tongue within you; purposefully prolonging it to fill out your cum soaked walls.

You didn’t know how to feel as he drank up the juices of both of your and his evidence of cum that mixed within you, but you found it undeniably arousing. 

He wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t cease plunging his tongue in and out of you whilst smelling the flesh of your clit. His hair sticking against your sweat and cum soaked thighs as he became sloppily relentless with his pace.

“Al! Don’t stop!” Not caring that your voice reverberates through hell, you moan out loudly into the morning air, clamping your thighs against the sides of his face, further sticking him to you, needing him pressed against you.

“Use your teeth Al, please, I can barely feel anything.” Tears of frustration and overstimulation gather on your lower lashes as you grip his antlers harder, pulling him even closer, grinding against his tongue. “Please I need-“ you were practically babbling a stutter now, half delirious and half extremely aroused, your orgasm so close but not quite at the peak.

With a growl, he ragged his head away from your cunt, your palms being scratched deeply by the sharpened ends of his antlers as he pulled away. 

“Can’t feel anything?” He bared his teeth. “Greedy little darling, aren’t you? Always begging for more despite me going above and beyond for you.” His claws latched around your face, squishing your cheeks together as his tentacles slowly began appearing behind him menacingly. “I’ve had an awful day, my love. And I thought my lovely little darling could help alleviate some of that for me; but no.” His claws became sharper before he stuffed them into your cunt. “You always have to beg for more, don’t you?” Every word rumbled from his throat with anger and pause, making sure every single word was pronounced individually as his fingers rammed deeply into you along with every pronunciation.

"N-no Al that's not what I mea-“ Eyes widening at the switch from his soft tongue to his sharp claws had you drooling – head going empty, the pain travelling up your spine sharply and making you dizzy.

“I’m sorry you had- AH! A bad day-“ Barely able to get the words out with how aggressive Alastor was ramming his fingers into you, you truthfully felt bad; remorseful. But since your mouth was the one that got you into this situation, if hurting you slightly for being a brat would help your lover calm down, you would do it happily, and with a smile.

Baring your neck at Alastor you let out a soft moan. “You can take your frustrations out on me, I’m yours to do with as you please, Al.” Closing your eyes tightly, you attempted to ignore the way your walls clamped down on his fingers from the mere thought of being covered in his sharp, sloppy bites and hickeys.

Growling yet again, he leaned into your neck before piercing his sharp, pointed teeth into your flesh, forcing pools of blood to seep against his tongue as he continued to ram his fingers into you; his cum and your juices sputtering out of you with every push. 

Sucking the ink of blood that he had forced out of your skin, he lifted his mouth away from your throat, your blood dripping from the corners of his mouth before he spoke. “You just can’t help but be conflicting can you? Always good, always bad; the only thing you’re consistent at is being mine aren’t you? Dirty girl.” He spat as his fingers never relented, and before you could attempt to touch him, his black appendages wrapped around your limbs, holding them down tightly against the bed.

Writhing against the cool shadow-appendages you started to cry, you couldn’t help it, this was a new overwhelming sensation, the urge to be good outweighing anything else, the ache of the bite helping you go into this new headspace. No words could escape, not even moans, your chest locked up as your vision swirled.

All you could realistically do was do what he wanted; be his good girl and take it. And that’s what you did, what you had to do. Blinking the tears out to clear your vision, your breath hitched at that sight that greeted you: Alastor above you, his tongue lapping up the remnants of your blood, his tentacles pinning you down as he fucked his cum back into you at a painful pace.

The sun in hell had begun to rise, lighting up one side of the man above you. His eyes locked onto yours, the sunlight highlighting the cum and blood that still coated his mouth, his chest and lower stomach in a light sheen from his sweat and your cum. He was so attractive, especially like this. Closing your eyes, you couldn’t help but cum at the sight before you. 

How did you manage to get the attention of the Radio Demon to begin with?

[cherryredstars]

Hi! I’ve been following you for a while, not so long, but for a while, and I just wanted to say I am absolutely in love with your Miguel fan fics. Especially the one that stars female!miguel in too, absolutely love it. I have a little request of my own, but if you feel uncomfortable with this one no need to do it🫶🏻.

So, I basically just wanted a hypersexual!reader x Miguel. I personally suffer with hypersexual disorder to my own reason. I’m not sure how to explain what hypersexual is, so you can just search it up (sorry!!😭)

I kinda want it to still be apart of spiderman arc (Miguel is still spider man 2099 and reader is also spider women/man)

Miguel can find out reader is hypersexual by her/him file or smth like that, I’m not sure how to explain it😣

If you feel uncomfortable by this request, no need to do it and no pressure :)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut, Reader is Hypersexual, Genital Examination, Mentions of Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, and Sexual Fantasies

Summary: Miguel has always been good with examining disorders.

A/N: It’s okay anon!! I already know what hypersexuality is because samesies!!!

Word Count: 615 (Not Edited)

He knew. 

He practically knew everything with his discovery of the multiverse and LYLA by his side. So it didn’t surprise you when he had cornered you, questioning you about the hypersexuality notes in your file. It did leave you embarrassed, a stuttering fool with blazing cheeks and a tongue that couldn’t articulate anything. He had asked you if it would affect your performance, if you’d be too distracted to be on the field. You had hastily disagreed, assuring him that you’d be at peak performance on any and all missions you’d be on. He left you with a grumbling, ‘I’ll make sure of that’ and a flashing visual of his rough body pressed against yours. 

You had never imagined his I’ll make sure of that would be him dealing with it personally. Physically. Before every mission you went on. 

Everytime he pulls you into a lab, pressing your front down on a lab table as he performs his…examination. His chest pressing against your back, your suit pooling around your ankles as his hand slips between your legs. His hand, large and rough, cups you entirely, massaging your throbbing sex. Soft whines and moans escape you as his hands get drenched with your arousal. It's sticky, staining your skin and making squelching noises that make you embarrassed. Everytime you try to squirm away, he grunts and presses you harder against the flat surface, mumbling something about not being done. 

He continues his examination, fingers touching and massaging every part of your sex. He takes extra care with your slit, pressing his fingers to it until you're whining and on the edge of release. Some days, he lets you finish and others he edges you until he gets bored. But his examination is never the end of it. He always presses more into you, his hard erection pressing to your bare ass as he whispers into your ear. 

Tell me. Tell me what sick little fantasies your dirty mind thought of today. 

And as per routine, you do. In a whimpering and needy voice, you list out all the thoughts you can remember as he hums absentmindedly. He always tsks when you're finished, cooing about how he needs to get rid of those thoughts before you can be cleared for duty. His suit disintegrates, leaving him naked and twitchy behind you. His erection is always rock hard and swollen, throbbing against your ass as he preps your hole. He swears he’s your miracle cure, the only one that can help you momentarily stop those thoughts and keep your body satisfied. He drills it into you, syncing each word with a thrust that blurs your mind. 

He’ll spend all the time he has before you have to go running through your list of fantasies, leaving each one fulfilled or until you’ve cummed so much that you have nothing else to give. And even then, if you’re still greedy and not fully satisfied, he’ll continue to play with your body. He plays with your sex, drinks up your arousal until he swallows it down, or continues his numbing thrusts until your body is a shaking and unstable mess. And, when you’re satisfied, when all thoughts are erased, he’ll pull away from your body. His suit reappears as he helps zip up yours. 

When the both of you leave, he pressed up right behind you, whispering in your ear how he’ll see you for your next check up. And your mind drones on and on about the new fantasies and scenarios, your body becoming insatiable again. 

You always seem to be in need of an examination sooner rather than later, and Miguel is always prepared to administer them.

[twig-tea]

Why We Are Gives Me Anxiety

I have been fighting myself on this We Are post for weeks because I wanted to make sure I knew what I wanted to say and was able to say it. I feel the need to say off the top that I don’t begrudge anyone who enjoyed this show and I’m genuinely glad it brought comfort to people. The show in and of itself, as 16 hour-long episodes of fluff (shout-out to @stuffnonsenseandotherthings for using this word to pinpoint the genre for this show, because it’s perfect), is not offensive or bad or wrong or any judgmental or moralistic word. And it does some things well; the centrality of the friend group was a lovely aspect to this show, and the chemistry in the friendship group scenes was on point. All of the couples have good romantic chemistry as well, and the show is packed with butterflies-inducing moments. 

That being said, I did not enjoy watching this show. I watch television mostly for the story; This show felt more like watching 16 special episodes for a show I hadn’t seen (I think this can be attributed to the point made by @italianpersonwithashippersheart in her post here that the show assumes the audience comes to the show with a pre-existing buy-in to the ships). The lack of overarching narrative structure of We Are gave my brain nothing to hold onto and I spent so much of every episode futilely trying to figure out how scenes worked with what had come before, what the show was trying to say, what these characters were thinking–all of which I knew was the wrong way to be watching, but it’s the way my brain works, so I spent a lot of the show frustrated. In short, this show wasn’t for me. 

But that’s not why I feel the need to write about it. Shows are fully allowed to not be for me, I usually can differentiate between when a show is doing something I don’t like well, or when it’s failing at its own goals. And I don’t begrudge people with different taste getting catered to sometimes; my refrain is that most problems of representation are not solved by calling for less of something, and rather than wanting something not to be made, I’d rather champion for more and a greater variety of content. And lord knows there’s enough BL to go around these days (shouting out @respectthepetty’s post along these lines, which I loved) . But We Are still worries me, and I’ve been trying to find a way to articulate that my concerns are not actually about the show itself, in isolation, but rather about how it feels like part of a pattern. This is my best attempt at laying that out. It’s going to get a little ramble-y, so apologies in advance.

Shout-out to @bengiyo who first articulated this anxiety in his post from relatively early in the show’s run . Ben gets into some of where I’m coming from with concerns about what this show means for the genre in this post, which as he mentions we've chatted about in DMs. I’m really grateful to him for these conversations because in isolation, I worried that I was being alarmist. It was helpful to have confirmation that he was feeling the same way so that I could get out of my own head.  

Ben mentions in his post that New Siwaj has been in this business a long time, and I, like Ben, have jived with him for years because he manages to imbue queer angst into his shows in a way that resonates with me, even when he’s had missteps. I'm going to lay out some of the major highlights of his work for those who haven't followed New for years.

He was an editor on Love Sick, arguably the start of the Thai BL genre as we know it today, and a show full to the brim of queer angst. He directed Make It Right, one of my favourite Thai BL comedy series. This show was also an ensemble centered around a friendship group (though admittedly it didn’t balance the friendship and romance content as strongly as We Are), and it covers so many topics that felt refreshing at the time and still are rare (morning-after sex visits to the clinic because things went poorly, hooking up on the apps, sex acts beyond just penetration, suicidality, I could go on). He also was involved in the GMMTV Waterboyy series–this was his first work for GMMTV that I am aware of. That show had a lot of issues but did explore internalized homophobia and bullying.

He worked as a cinematographer on En of Love, which is again similar to We Are in that it has several couples connected by a friendship group (and is several novels in one series), but each couple was given its own miniseries instead of bundling them into one show. En of Love also still dealt with some serious queer angst, especially in the Love Mechanics story [Sidenote, Niink, the director for En of Love, stuck with New and moved on to work for Wabi Sabi].

At this point, New created his own company, Studio Wabi Sabi, which he's said in interviews was to gain more creative control over what he was working on. And his stories became arguably even more explicitly queer and inclusive of queer trauma. He screenwrote and produced Love By Chance (which folks may not remember or know, but that core story starts off with Pete being blackmailed for being gay until Ae convinces him to come out to his mother and shut down the leverage for blackmail, and a good chunk of Pete’s character arc is unlearning internalized homophobia and not seeing himself as ‘corrupting’ Ae) and then Until We Meet Again. The queer angst in UWMA probably doesn’t need my help spelling out, but just in case anyone doesn’t know the summary, this show was about a queer couple who committed suicide in the face of homophobia in the 1980s, and were reborn and given another chance to be together in present day. I did want to note that in both of these series (LBC and UWMA) the core romance itself has no major conflicts; both AePete and DeanPharm felt like they were intentionally side-stepping so many of the usual BL drama tropes of jealousy and misunderstandings through trust and communication. Dean and Pharm’s story took that even further by having so many of the usual drama pitfalls for a gay couple just not be a problem; their only drama comes from their past lives, in a beautiful exploration of the breaking of intergenerational trauma. So many external threats to their relationship ended up being non-starters, and this was my version of a comfort series for that reason. 

From there, New started working with GMMTV again, and directed My Gear and Your Gown. This series was, to my knowledge, the first GMMTV BL series to mention HIV and to show characters getting tested at the clinic, and while it wasn’t perfect representation (didn’t get into PrEP, treated HIV as a death sentence), it felt like an important milestone.

[I’m skipping the sequels and specials he did for series I already talked about, because they don’t feel that important to the story I’m telling here and this is already so long, but I wanted to acknowledge that I’m not covering everything in his oeuvre.]

He then directed 7 Project, which had some serious storylines dealing with bullying and struggling with life in the closet, out of Wabi Sabi, and then Star and Sky out of GMMTV. Star in My Mind included one of the main characters in a beard relationship for years, and some controversy over the adaptation choices to make Daonuea (Dunk’s character) less polite than in the books. There was drama around the pronouns and characterization in that show (both Daonuea and Khabkluen use guu/mueng in the series, but in the novel, Daonuea uses rao; he also curses in the series and novel fans complained that he was too ‘masculine’). I thought it was an interesting attempt at a departure from BL character tropes to try to make Daonuea more evenly matched with Khabkluen in terms of his gender presentation in the show. Sky in Your Heart also included some angst about whether people of a particular station could be gay. Both of these shows (SIMM and SIYH) were also very trope-y, but they had clear throughlines. 

My Only 12%, the next show New directed out of Wabi Sabi, contains one of my favourite moments in all of BL, in which Seeiw sees Love of Siam and cries because it makes him realize he’s gay. There’s this heartfelt moment where he asks his sister, if there’s nothing wrong with being gay, why doesn’t the film let the gay characters have a happy ending? Despite the weird PSA ending, this show remains one of my favourites.

This is an aside but I’ve long been fascinated about this moment in New’s history: he played himself in War of Y, as a director of BL who is sick of being forced to make BL shows full of fanservice; he treats the actors with disdain and cuts marketable high heat scenes from the show which makes everyone nervous for the show’s future. Later we see him and the actor characters on set for My Only 12%, much happier. I ask myself about this moment at least once a week: Did he write this self-insert? Did someone else write the character and he just played it, and the similarities to his style were (were not?) a coincidence? I hope someone knows and tells me one day,

From there, New functioned as an Executive Producer of Dear Doctor, I’m Coming for Soul [I think this was the first outsourced project by Wabi Sabi]. This series’ entire plot is a metaphor for living in the closet and waiting for the time when the main couple can be together fully without having to hide. 

He directed A Boss and a Babe for GMMTV (which had its problems for sure, but also had Cher as an out gay man at the workplace dealing with casual homophobia in a way that was extremely satisfying), and then Between Us, which is maybe the least queer feeling show Wabi Sabi produced on its own, but did go into the issues of dating and the closet while trying to become a star (if I’ve forgotten something from this show let me know, I only watched it the once). One of the things that was so strange about this show was it being a sequel to UWMA but not engaging with the same themes. The only mention of real world queerness I can remember was the acknowledgment that they can’t get married in Thailand and Dean and Pharm discussing again going abroad and getting married there. 

Absolute Zero was a complete mess of a show; New directed this one for Wabi Sabi, and it has some similarities to UWMA in the sense of there being an attempt at saving the gays from the bury your gays trope, this time via time loop rather than reincarnation, but it did not take the issues it raised seriously enough (including the age gap created between the two characters by virtue of time travel). 

And that leads us to We Are for GMMTV, which as Pluem (@happypotato48)  wrote in his excellent post about this, includes Toey using nu and other 'feminine' or 'youthful' sounding language, but also apparently dropped the main conflict of the novel between Phum and his father (because his father disapproved of Peem).

Why did I go through all of that? Because I wanted to lay out how I've watched New Siwaj’s career go from finding a way to tell incredibly poignant and healing queer narratives (by creating his own company, and fitting these moments into the GMMTV series he did work on) to stripping out queerness from the shows he’s creating in the last year or so.

And this is a pattern we’re seeing more widely at GMMTV in particular, but also in Thai QL more widely. This is something that was touched on but not really discussed in the most recent episode of The Conversation podcast (the 23.5 and only boo! episode here). In both 23.5 and Only Boo!, the show faked out a homophobic parent and then treated their kids like they were silly to assume the worst, and I hated that.

Both Ongsa and Kang had internalized homophobia in their respective series. Both were terrified of telling their mothers about their homosexual love interest. And in both cases, their mothers told them something along the lines of 'of course I will support you no matter what'. In Ongsa's case, even though she was outed by Sun without her consent, she's the one who ends up apologizing for her hesitancy and feeling foolish for her concern. In Kang's case, the show never challenges his mother's assertion that she'll always support him even though we know she hasn’t (she was the one who wanted to prevent him from studying art before his father died), and it’s the audience that was left feeling foolish for our concern. 

In the GMMTV round table for Pride Month, it was mentioned that the decision for Ongsa's mother to be accepting of her relationship with Sun was made in order to model good parental behaviour for the older generation in the audience. In the novel, Ongsa's mother presents a significant conflict, but this conflict was erased from the show. I don't know if the same decision was made in Only Boo! for the same reason or not, but either way, the show definitely signalled to Kang's mother having an issue with Kang's relationship with Moo, and then said "sike", which I did not enjoy. The Conversation panelists were correct in the conversation linked and transcribed above that this wasn't the most egregious misstep either show made, but it feels like a telling symptom of the larger overall narrative problems that New is also now succumbing to.

It seems as though telling stories stripped of queer conflict is being seen as progressive, and possibly also easier to sell, and this is where my anxiety lies around what this will mean for Thai QL content in future. 

For the record, I am all for creating queer content in which we envision a better world for ourselves. But when that is the goal, understanding where internalized homophobia comes from and thinking through how removing parental objection will affect the character and the story is vital to the story and characterization remaining coherent. Otherwise it just ends up feeling like the show is telling queer kids that they're paranoid, rather than rightly worried (like I wrote about in this thread on My Love Mix-Up Thailand, where the same decision was made again to fake out a homophobic subplot that was removed from the adaptation but was present in the source material).

These choices speak to adaptation choices with an eye for specific moments and story points, rather than to a narrative or character arc, which is where it feels like they fall into the wider pattern of what @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup and @ginnymoonbeam were describing in their discussion: shows caring more about hitting specific meme-able story points listed out on a whiteboard than about making cohesive sense or having something coherent to say. 

[So as not to leave it out: I don’t think there were concerns of homophobia in the Wandee Goodday novel (novel readers feel free to correct me if I’m wrong about this) but the show faked us out about homophobia concerns anyway, which again really bothered me during that watch and which adds to the pattern.] 

Now, of course, as I stated up at the top there is value in the creation of different kinds of media. These shows sell different fantasies than the ones I want to see, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have value.All of BL has some amount of fantasy that it’s buying into, that’s what comes with the territory of ‘fiction’. The BL bubble (in which homophobia doesn’t exist and all men are gay for each other) is a version that is at its most extreme; nothing bad ever happens that isn’t quickly resolved within an episode, so there is never narrative tension, and nobody really needs to be that concerned about how anything will go ever. I do not find these relaxing because I can’t buy into the fantasy they’re selling; for me, the lack of narrative tension is so unbelievable as to ruin my immersion. But I can see why that would be appealing for someone whose brain is not always on alert and running at 11/10! The problem I am anticipating is when the majority of content is made that way, and when it is done in a way that takes up all of the mainstream space. I think it’s notable that the only show that’s really felt not in the queer bubble from GMMTV in 2024 is Cooking Crush, which was done by a subsidiary team within GMMTV (and the same team went on to make Only Boo!). And this is why We Are caught my attention and made me nervous; When a director who is known for his representation of poignant queer angst makes an entire 16-hour series in which there are no significant conflicts at all and the only hint of homophobia is in Toey’s reference to being bullied prior to the timeframe of the series, I get worried about who is going to be making the queer angst shows in future!  

For the record, my personal preference for comfort shows are the shows that do not pretend the world is perfect, but do depict an idealized subset of that world→where there’s a group of people that support one another through the bullshit of others and the less than perfect world that surrounds them. Shows that teach us to be kind to one another, and ourselves. Shows that say the world is going to suck sometimes, but we can be good to one another, and not lose sight of who we are, and make space for others to be themselves. A few of my favourite Thai series that do this would be: 

Bad Buddy

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Knock Knock Boys

Miracle of Teddy Bear

My Only 12%

Secret Crush on You

To Sir With Love

Until We Meet Again

(and of course these occur in non-Thai shows as well. A few examples of my favourites: What Did You Eat Yesterday, DNA Says Love You, Light on Me, Oppan, Marahuyo Project, TsukuTabe, Tadaima Okaeri, Koisenu Futari, Joshi-teki Seikatsu, Gameboys, Hehe and He, Twilight out of Focus, She Makes My Heart Flutter)

These are shows in which there are explicitly external judgments on the relationships in the show and/or the characters for things intrinsic to who they are, and the characters build a support structure in which folks are encouraged to be themselves within that ‘bubble’ (Bad Buddy walks a fine line because it’s within the BL bubble but the problems that the main couple face are so a direct allegory that everything feels familiar; this is also the case with Tadaima Okaeri, which is both omegaverse and one of the most beautifully kind shows of all time). 

So for now, I still have the other smaller Thai studios including Kongthup Productions (who made Knock Knock Boys; we’ll see whether their latest series Monster Next Door deals with any queer angst or not), idolFactory (just finished My Marvellous Dream is You, which had a ton of queer angst, and is currently doing The Loyal Pin, which I have hope for on this front), DeeHup (currently making I Saw You In My Dream, which I’m holding out hope for) and StarHunter Entertainment (who made City of Stars, but whose record is a little spotty on this front; Their latest, Sunset Vibes, has not done a great job of handling the theme of office relationships and blackmail so far, and feels very much in the bubble) to look forward to. 

But as you can see even just by virtue of the caveats I included above, it feels like this shift is happening in the smaller companies too (harder to see a real pattern with fewer data points, which is one of the reasons why I picked on GMMTV–in addition to it being the largest media conglomerate in Thailand and therefore able to take it). Maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just an anxious person. Or maybe I’m just wrong about what would be best for the genre and for queer people in Thailand as well as viewers all over the world. But I, for one, would find it a loss if Thai QL decides en masse to pivot away from queer angst, and right now it kind of feels like that’s what it’s doing. In this context, to reiterate my original point, the existence of We Are is not a problem, but is one in a set of exemplars that raised specific alarm bells due to the people involved and their history in QL and queer representation, its deviation from the source material, and the surrounding shows that seem to indicate a pattern rather than a one-off. 

[aniihera]

Ok. I’ve been compiling my thoughts on the pathologic 2 endings for a while now, and I’ve finally pinpointed my feelings on them (enough to share at least). I’m desperate to hear what others think about them too.

Lengthy Kin-themed rant oncoming? Perhaps.

More under the cut.

CW: Spoilers for Pathologic 2 (of course).

- - -

To preface: As I am Māori, not Buryat or of the other cultures I have heard the Kin to be based on, my perspective is more from *my* understanding of what it means to be Indigenous than anything else. There are probably many things I’m missing. But I’d like to throw in my two cents, however relevant they are.

Suffice to say, my feelings are complicated. Stylistically and narratively, there was a lot that I enjoyed. From a reconnecting/ mixed Indigenous perspective, however, I still feel unwillingly bisected, torn.

At the culmination of everything, Artemy Burakh and the player are roped into a cruel, two-pronged choice. Destroy the Polyhedron along with the miracles of the Steppe, or let the plague devour the town as you lead the Kin back to its heart. In these scenarios, you either assimilate the Kin into the town, which many of them will despise you for, or push out the nonindigenous townsfolk by force, letting nature run its course. Any third option has already been amputated, beyond your will. You cannot protect the Kin completely either way, some will likely die from the plague in the latter, and the more fantastical will in the first, by being cleaved from the earth’s dying magic.

Diurnal, or Nocturnal. No matter how you look at it, the kin cannot thrive in either. For it to be a choice at all, hurt, to say the least. After playing the bachelor’s route in the first game, I’m sure that was deliberate in an anti-utopian sense, perfection is impossible etc, etc. But the first lens I saw it through, stuck with me.

When I initially read Isidor say this after Artemy’s trial in the abattoir:

“Facing the Future is the way of Love. Facing the Past is the way of Love. But the two are incompatible, and it broke my heart.”

I was devastated. The hopeless dichotomisation of future and past… and I could only construe it as assimilation or death in some manner (but I could not see what role it took yet). That feeling festered for a while, but I wanted to see it from another angle. I think it's natural to be sensitive to the words “progress” (which is usually linked to “civilisation” and colonisation) when anchored against Indigenous culture, but I didn’t want that to blind me completely.

On its own, I do like this line. It’s weighty. And I think it articulates aspects of Indigenous struggle well, to some degree. Going back to the “past” is somewhat impossible for many reasons. Decolonisation is needed but I don’t believe it means restoring the “past” fully by any means. Culture is not stagnant, and neither is the future. To say they are incompatible though pains me. Especially when contextualised inside the divide between the kin and the town. It is an intentionally agonising line, and successfully so. Pitting the themes of Past/Future, against, Kin/Town, is something I find hard to reconcile with. Even just the first part irks me; personally the past walks with me at every step, the future is void and useless without it in full view. But I wouldn’t say a line from Isidor (or Artemy’s subconscious) necessarily defines the game more than it does his perspective. For me, it is the patterns that follow and precede it.

Aspity is a very obvious portrayal of what it looks like to “face the past” completely. Visiting her sanctuary, It becomes very evident that her opinions of the non-Kinfolk sway towards genocidal. They must “flood the town”, as she put it. Considering their treatment on the Bull Project and well… everything else, It’s not unfounded. During the night visits, we develop a growing understanding of what is at stake for the kin. Their language, legends, arts, and traditions, and too many Kin are dying from pest and persecution (Its a familiar story). Herb brides are forced to sell their cultural dance to get by (another familiar story for Māori, kapa haka and tourism, our culture has also become a commodity out of necessity). Legends like the shabnak adyr too are warped by the townsfolk (as it is used as an excuse to target Kin women). Assimilation means these things for them too.

There's also the case of how the Kin are depicted as more animalistic than the “more human” townsfolk. Oyun, Big Vlad, and even Artemy have a long history referring to them as such. To make the Kin less than human is inherently othering (as is any case where the empire views us as inherently more primitive or unevolved). The importance placed on Aurochs and being one with nature in Kin culture paints this in a less hostile light (Big Vlad’s view not so much). But I fear the effect this might have on player perceptions of the Kin will be negative regardless. I’ve seen a few statements about the Kin being a “hivemind”, I can't say I entirely agree. Many are divided on how they view Artemy, as well as what they desire for the future. I’ve also seen this in reference to when a few odonghe gift you organs for your tinctures, but at this point everyone in the town is desperate for a cure no matter the cost. Their more violent practices appear to weaken many fans' empathy for the Kin, painting the Nocturnal ending darker and darker. Getting rid of herb bride “marriages” would be a good thing at least right? Assimilation might be a good thing then? Nothing good comes without cost, and for the Kin this cost is too steep. Survival doesn't have to mean losing yourself piece by piece.

I will say that despite liking the non-Kin townsfolk, I do wish there was a larger Kin presence among the main roles. While we have Nara, Aspity, Oyun, and Taya, I understand how their presence does little to assuage the dread of seeing the rest of the cast wade out into the Steppe. For me, seeing Murky and Sticky in such a lost state during the Nocturnal ending, made me unable to see it as anything but a mistake.

Two other alternating themes are present through the endings. Childhood (miracles and dreams) and adulthood (waking up and walking forward). The dominant presence of children in Nocturnal, and the fact that walking through the near empty town really does feel like a nightmare, showcases this. The impossible has been made possible, the earth sleeps, sated. The endless cycle of responsibility, from father to son, from parent to child... Children rule the future here. In Diurnal, this cycle, at least, has some room to be broken. Responsibilities are weighed more evenly. Letting go of miracles and childhood dreams, that is the only future in this end. I’m not sure If i have to discuss how problematic it might be to place indigenous revival in the realm of childishness, and assimilation in the realm of growing up, but i thought i'd leave the notion there regardless.

Leaving how you view the two ends aside, it's obvious that Nocturnal has a heavier, gloomier tone.

Maybe having a third ending would’ve been reductive, to have one person so easily find a solution to unifying the town. But, it hurts so deeply to have that choice wrenched from your hands. The choice might have been severed by Isidor, but it felt like so much was possible for Artemy. With one foot in both worlds, the potential of true reconnection, i thought we could move past what was possible for his father. It felt like that was the direction Artemy was moving in, seeing the choices before him and bullheadedly trampling through the middle. Just like he did with the cure, finding the impossible connection.

As it stands, the endings are brutal. Survival for the kin is held by a thread, regardless of the direction you look. They either die a physical death, or a cultural and spiritual one (the two could very well be interpreted as present in both depending on how you look at it). By your conversations with Aspity, even if they survive, the Diurnal end is hinted to lead to an essential “dissolution” of the Kin as they know it. Wherein the differences between the Town and Kin will become so negligible that the two are no longer distinct. Which from my perspective is its own, however voiceless tragedy.

Ok, that was a lot of negativity but I’d like to be candid. Even despite all that, Pathologic is still one of my favourite games of all time. I saw someone say on here that Pathologic 2 is most interesting when allowing the player to decide where love takes them (even if they are led to extremes). Love being at the forefront, regardless of the choices you make, no wrong answers, that's what I appreciated most when playing as Artemy. Whether you chose to kill the three odonghe for Rubin, begged him to stay despite everything, killed Oyun, the Oglimskys, or the pest, it was for the love of something. The internal strife of having a mixed identity too, the rejection and affection from both sides, is something I related to even if the circumstances were miles apart from my own. I wish that Nocturnal aligned with that energy, that the nuances there were a little less stark. That opposing assimilation felt like less of a mistake.

There's a lot more I could delve into but this is pretty long already. This post could all read like nonsense/surface level, but I’m curious to see what other people think! Especially other indigenous folk, I’m dying to know how others interpreted the endings regarding the Kin.

[wa1kerbait4592]

planet of the apes 🦧

dude… i have now seen the new kingdom of the planet of the apes in cinema twice and the first time around i wasn’t all that impressed and i left the theatre kinda disappointed but the second time around i left a little more impressed and a little less disappointed.

the movie was still weak compared to the first three films, (the rise, dawn and war) but im glad it was made.

as a whole i believe this franchise is criminally underrated on multiple different levels. The poetic nature of the films is something i don’t think i would ever articulate or write on paper to perfectly capture how beautifully made these films are, they are just chefs kiss

proximus caesar was a funny villain that i think deserved more screen time and back story, it makes me kinda sad to think that we wont really see his character again.

the symbolism that links all four films together is incredibly well done and throughout the entire series there are crumbs of the films that came before them, which is a part of the reason why i love these films so much. i like how they made noa so similar to caesar, not only in his appearance but in his characteristics. i like to believe it was intentional that noa and caesar (particularly in dawn of the planet of the apes with malcolm) cautiously but willingly trusted a human. noa is so incredibly similar to caesar it would be criminal to suggest otherwise.

dude these films are so visually well done you almost forget you are watching cgi. the visual effects alone blow my mind but the accuracy and attention to detail when it comes to the mannerisms of the apes is out of this world and deserves more recognition. in terms of cinematography planet of the apes have always been amazing at beautifully capturing emotions from all the apes and even better at showing the wonders of a post-human run world. the forests and surroundings that the apes find themselves in continue to amaze me, especially in this newest film were we see a variety of different landscapes.

as much as i am growing to love kingdom of the planet of the apes, i feel as though we could have waited for noa and his story. i think cornelius and the others that were left behind after caesars death deserved a closing chapter. i would have loved to know how the community handled the loss of their leader and saviour and how they all moved on. also i feel as though we needed back story on how the apes separated and became different clans spread all across the continent. as an example i would have also loved to see how the misinterpretation of caesar and what he stood for became so strong and wide spread, as well as why noas clan and their elders knew nothing of caesar or chose to leave him out of their history. there were a lot of open ends and unfinished stories that deserved more screen time, but in saying that, that could mean an eternity of story telling that everyone may not want to see.

at the end of kingdom of the planet of the apes they left it open for another film which i am looking forward to seeing where they take story line. are they going to fully circle around to the original films were they capture more humans and start to use them as slaves or will the story begin to get repetitive? i hope repetition won’t sneak its way into these films like is has with so many other franchises, but we can only hope right?

anyways-

long live monkeys… i love monkeys and we need more monkey movies

also- i know i don’t really do this sort of this thing on this account but i was beginning to genuinely tweak if i didn’t word vomit my thoughts on these movies <3

[ghostybaby000]

Who's at the door? | Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: I suggest going back to part one (above) to start this adventure of a read

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, violent theme, fire, future smut, symptoms of panic, light flirting

(Not fully edited, apologies for anything incorrect!)

Without saying a word he runs it under warm water and walks back over to you, you lift your arm to him now- he clearly knew what he was doing. Refusing to make eye contact you hold still as the warm cloth sooths the burns feeling that’s being uncovered. You take a slow inhale as he articulately removes the bandage, and you see your arm gasping as its revealed. He was right, the burn had begun to swell and blister, being a few inches long with inflammation that wrapped around your arm, you had been burned far worse than you thought. 

‘It was worse earlier’ He took his focus off of your arm as he opened the box of ointment and Band-Aids. You feel suddenly grateful for such a person, that was willing to run into flames and smoke, to save you. Now you realize the emblem on the shirt you were wearing matched what was on his sweatpants, he was military. You understood his courage now and his impressive build. He was quite tall compared to you, making the entire apartment feel smaller. 

‘There we are.’ He finishes bandaging your arm with a new dressing and begins to put the items away. He makes a gesture towards the seat at the bar and you take it, sitting was more of a relief then you expected. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and slides it over to you, making no comment on the matter and instead sitting down as well. The both of you sat in silence for a while- just thinking over everything that had happened. Finally, you decide that you should get back to your room, your phone and all of your belongings to make some phone calls. 

‘I should be getting back to my apartment, I can change over there and get this back to you later’ You pull at the sleeve that was above your wound to cover it, again talking to the floor.

‘I can head over there with you if you’d like.’ He looks over at you, waiting for eye contact, until you meet his gaze and begin to blush.

‘really you don’t have to, you’ve already done plenty for me I don’t want to burden you-‘

‘It’s not a problem at all.’ He cuts you off slightly as he stands waiting to follow you out. You both get up and leave, not realizing where you are just yet. He takes the lead and moves down the hall just to the right of you when you see the door. He had kicked it in and destroyed the lock to get in the apartment but it had been replaced already, the only signifier that anything had happened being boot marks on the door.

‘Did you…fix this?’ You look up to him with your brow furred.

‘Well yeah, I bloody broke it first’ A small smile came over both of your faces as you went into your apartment, which you realized was unlocked for many hours. The smell of smoke was overpowering, your eyes watering off reflex. The door or smoke didn’t bother you once you had seen the stove, blackened, and covered in char the pan a charcoal color with the walls being burt as well made your heart drop. 

‘I assume you were cooking?’ He says as he moves the burnt pan with a pop as it comes off the stove.

‘Trying to…’ Your voice fades as you continue to look at the damage that had been done to your appliance. You feel a drop in your stomach again as you realize what it’s going to cost to replace your stove and repaint the walls. You had just moved in and this is what happens, you try and make yourself food and the mirror breaks and then the smoke, and the stinging in your eyes- you couldn’t do it. You felt your body start to give way and made your way over to the couch, and began to cry. The smell of the smoke from the walls had begun to die down after you had adjusted to it and after a minute or so you sat backwards and took in a breath, your crying beginning to stop. You felt a large hand on your shoulder, rubbing it back and fourth with the thumb. You sit forward almost out of his reach and look backwards at the masked man.

‘I’ve just realized through all of this I never got your name. Wha-what is your name?’

‘People call me Ghost.’ He takes his hand off of your shoulder and comes to sit next to you, creating a dip in the cushion that the couch had never felt before. You take in another breath to process that he had said his name was, Ghost? You felt your face beginning to calm down after crying, your breath steady now you broke the silence. 

‘Does that name come from the military?’ You ask looking at the emblem on his shirt you wore. He nodded slowly, his eyes looking down to his hands resting on his thighs.  This time, he breaks the silence, moving his gaze to your face which was a blush pink, looking into your eyes.

‘Well…aren’t you going to say your name?’ You can tell he is smiling by the crinkle in his eyes,  you let out a small laugh as you turn to him. 

‘I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.’ You reach out your hand as if you were going to introduce yourself for the first time. He slowly reaches out his own hand with a light laugh and gently shakes yours, you now realize that his hands are far larger than you had thought, and rough too. For a moment he holds your hand before again letting his reassume their position on his legs. 

‘I guess I won’t be cooking for a while.’ You look at him, a small sarcastic smile on your face.

‘Yeah you might want to stick to microwaving things for a little.’ He glances at you, then back down to his legs. You don’t let go of his eyes though, still watching him. He looks back to you and this time, he stares into your eyes refusing to break the eye contact you feel those butterflies again as you look down bashfully.

‘While you might not be cooking here, you do know where I live and I can cook without burning the place down.’ His eyes still solidly fixed on yours, half lidded and slowly blinking. 

‘I would appreciate the company.’ He adds as his hand moves up and down his thigh as he rubbed it slowly. 

‘I-I don’t want to burden you at all I’m sure your busy…’ You look to him and then his hand.

‘Well I’ve got to eat at some point, why not share it?’ his accent making the butterflies in your stomach only stronger. 

‘If you insist, I would enjoy dinner actually I’m quite hungry.’

‘Lets go then, grab your things.’

[piratefalls]

i'm incapable of keeping these short. it's my burden to bear. also, extra long and also early this week because next week is kind of up in the air.

list one. list two. list three. list four. list five. list six. list seven.

a hundred thrown-out speeches i almost said to you by ivysunna

Henry sinks down into his desk chair, groaning. “How could this happen to me? I meet the most beautiful, charming man to ever grace the earth, and he just happens to work for the store my company is planning to run out of business? In what universe is that fair?” “In none of them, darling,” Pez murmurs. “Did you tell him, by any chance?” “Of course not! What was I supposed to say: ‘Hi, I’d really like to take you out to dinner, and by the way, my family owns Mountchristen Books, the company currently running all small family-owned bookstores out of business? I hope that’s ok?’” “Maybe not in those exact terms…” “It’s doomed,” Henry moans, burying his face in his hands. “My relationship with Alex is ruined before it could even begin.”

Weighted by stripyjumpers

Alex gets Henry a very thoughtful birthday gift.

Minty Fresh by inexplicablymine

How do you ask someone you so ardently adore, to spend the rest of their life with you? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health. To ask a question. To ask the question. It’s the singular most defining moment of a relationship until the (hopefully inevitable) wedding bells. It’s defining, it’s definite, it’s dreadful.

What Forever Looks Like by politics_and_prose

The last thing he’s expecting once they’re home and settled in is Alex to say, “I think I’d want our kids to come by the shelter whenever they could.” Henry, completely caught off guard with a mouth full of pizza, asks, “Huh?”

just give me a minute by smc_27

Alex isn’t obsessed. He just thinks Henry is fucking beautiful and perfect and smart and so, so talented. He just thinks Henry’s fingers look gorgeous on his piano. He just thinks they like the same things and have similar opinions. And he just thinks if they could be in the same place at the same time, they might like, have something. Okay, he’s a little obsessed. Or: Alex is trying to be a GROUPIE here, but his kindness keeps getting in the way.

Ignite My Heart by absoluteaudacity

“So, I’m making you an account and we’re going to swipe right on some men and you can thank me later,” Pez says. -- The 'We met on Tinder' AU

i hit my peak at seven feet by HypnosTherapy

He told Phillip first. It was a tremendously stupid idea he can only excuse by the fact that he was thirteen at the time. He thought his brother might help him talk to their parents. He didn’t know how to articulate it feels like there are hands closing around my spine and twisting or sometimes my legs hurt so bad that walking feels like I’ve got glass buried in my feet. He trusted his brother, and even more than that he wanted the desultory and relentless agony to go away. Phillip didn’t tell their parents. He told their grandfather. --- Now that he’s taken a step back from public life, Henry can relax. Without constant pressure to stand up straight and smile through the pain, some cracks start appearing in his facade. Alex starts to notice. (AKA 3 times Henry dealt with chronic pain symptoms by himself + 1 time Alex was there to help.)

A Multitude of Instances by orphan_account

Henry’s taken notice of one of Alex’s verbal patterns.

A Stork Beneath London Bridge by MarvelMerlin

Henry was supposed to be enjoying his first fully American Thanksgiving, filled with first hand witnessing of the Turkey Horrors and strangely sweet vegetable dishes. But in a single whispered phrase the world turns immaterial, Alex is his only anchoring point, and the black suit carefully packed over every single trip is being laid out on the pretty pink bedspread.

Back, Bring it Back by @sparklepocalypse

Scowling, Alex closes the laptop and sits back in his chair in his guest suite at Buckingham Palace to rub his eyes beneath his glasses, then runs a hand through his gray-streaked curls. He’s the youngest American President since Obama, has helped usher in groundbreaking legislation protecting workers’ rights and shoring up long-outdated social justice policies, and has actually made headway on tax equity, and the instant he’s in London the entire focus is back on the worst day of his goddamn life. (A soulmate AU futurefic that pivots away from canon after Alex storms the castle, but aside from two tiny movie-specific details would work in both bookverse and movieverse.)

kiss it better by lem0nademouth

Alex had a long day. Henry is fine with making it a long night.

First Pillow Princess by lovelythething

While they had talked about spicing it up in the bedroom, it seemed despite being two guys who wanted to change the world, they easily slid into normalcy with each other. But they weren't in the bedroom. They were on a well-worn sofa, high on exhaustion, and blessedly all alone.

please don't ever become a stranger (whose laugh i could recognize anywhere) by coffeecatsme

Alex’s love language is physical touch. Henry knows this—has known it from the first moment he’s met Alex, all wild curls and bright eyes and a smile that could breathe life into Henry’s little, fragile life. He’d stuck out a hand at that first meeting, dejected when Henry didn’t even take it. Found a way to poke and prod Henry every single time they’d met after, sharp jabs hitting his shoulder and rough hits shoving him around. Now, Alex’s fingers are gentle as they lace around his. His arms hold him tight to his chest. His hair tickles the nape of Henry’s neck, and the couch is entirely too small for the two of them but Henry doesn’t have the heart to kick him out. Or, 5 times Alex clings tight to Henry and 1 time Henry finds out why.

Just come along, baby, take my hand by kiwiana

“Uh, yeah, because you put on a sex dungeon show.” “It’s not a sex dungeon show. She’s helping people prioritise their sex lives and make space for it, in whatever form they may want it. It’s reinforcing emotional connections.”

Lay All Your Love On Me by lucy_in_the_sky

A lot has changed for his and Henry’s public persona since the emails leaked. Gone are the days they could shamelessly flirt with teasing touches and love-sick stares across crowded ballrooms, back when the whole world wrote off their relationship as a “bromance for the ages” since obviously they’re both incredibly heterosexual and are simply the best of friends. Now, wary of all the eyes suddenly scrutinising their relationship, they’ve taken to spicing up their sex life in different ways to still feel the thrill of clandestine hookups in the middle of important events and public appearances. Hence the whole ‘Alex wearing a vibrating plug that Henry controls while at a public function’ thing. And Jesus fucking Christ, it’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him.

Closer To You by bibliosoph

Some sexy times! Thanks to Len for the prompt! Happy belated birthday, Beth! This terrible smut is for you!

Just Business by bleedingballroomfloor

“I just need you to know that this is strictly a business relationship.” Henry blinks. His brain is taking a minute to process everything — meeting Alex. Dozens of pictures lining his office walls, each featuring a different persona of his. Brochures upon brochures, prices upon prices. It’s a bit overwhelming. “You’re asking for a lot here,” Alex continues, “and that means we’ll be spending a lot of time together. A Golden Tux. You’re asking me to pull off a Golden Tux, Henry. But I need you to know that this is just business.” Henry knows he’s asking for a lot. A best man. A wedding party. Time with his family. He knows that this should only be about business. He knows. (He also knows that Alex is very, very attractive, and he knows that this will be a long four weeks with Alex.)

choke me like you hate me (but you love me) by anonymous

What’s left for them to do? Something slaps against the skin of his chest. Ah. A classic. 

Really Fucking French by everwitch

Henry likes his men direct. It is, in part, why he so often indulges in setting his location on the apps to Paris — although the gratifying results he yields from that exercise are definitely partly down to a significant selection bias as well. But if Henry had never swiped on Parisian men, he'd never have connected with Antoine; dark curls and dimples and an absolutely lethal smile. Antoine is absolutely perfect. Too perfect. It's a pity that he must be a catfish. The man in Antoine's photos, however? He is very, very real. Or: the self-indulgent Paris romp we all need after this trying time.

from the mouths of babes by cricketnationrise

3 times Lina Claremont-Diaz-Fox didn't know what Henry does for a living and 1 time she absolutely does.

nobody panic, but i've broken my leg by annesbonny

He collects his phone from Cash who's been holding onto his possessions, and shoots off a text to the group chat between pained breaths. nobody panic, but i’ve broken my leg. Then he slips it away again before he can read June's outraged response. In which Alex Claremont Diaz breaks his leg at a charity Lacrosse game.

Subtle promises by viciouslyqueer

Alex breaks the kiss. His hand falls away. Henry blinks his eyes open, unsurprised. He’s panting, they both are, breathing heavily after kissing like they don’t need oxygen to live. Alex is watching him with flushed cheeks and red kissed lips, an unreadable look in his eyes. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Can we… Can we stop?” “Yeah,” Henry says immediately, anticipating the question. “Of course, love.”  — In which Henry starts a conversation and Alex realizes he's loved no matter what.

Most People Exist by SprigsofViolets

Henry Fox is a nurse at the New York Cancer Center. He’s happy with his job, content enough with his life, but it all gets turned on its head when he connects with a patient with a brain tumor—Alex Claremont-Diaz. ——— Henry is a nurse, Alex is a patient, I suck at summaries.

Never a Guarantee by clottedcreamfudge

Henry – Prince Henry, third in line for the throne of Windsor and Alex's goddamn betrothed – has very soft hands. Alex knows this because he is literally holding them in his, both of them standing in front of just about everyone with a title in either of their two kingdoms, while a man in an extremely large hat has them repeat oaths and other things Alex has been learning by heart since he got engaged. * Looking back on their time at the altar, Alex should maybe have read a little more into the way Henry kissed him like it was the last time.

Boy, I Fancy You by allmylovesatonce

When Alex has a break off of work, he decides to get away and spend that time in London. On his first day there, he meets Henry and sparks immediately fly between them. As they spend the summer together, touring the city and enjoying each other, Alex continues to keep a very big secret about himself: who he really is.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy by cmere

"Would now be the moment," Henry says, breath catching, "to tell you about a little fantasy I've had concerning you and horses?" Alex snickers. "Uh, I don't know, babe. If this is going the way it sounds, I'm not sure you should say anything you won't be able to take back." "Oh, Christ, shut it," Henry says, laughing, still not stopping the motions of his hand. "The horse aspect is nonsexual." "Okay, well in that case. Yes. Obviously." Alex grips his own thigh, refusing to give in and touch Henry, or himself. For now. As long as he can stand it. As it turns out, Alex isn't the only one who has a thing for his beloved on a horse. Henry's birthday seems like a good time to make use of that new information.

Tattoo Guns & Roses by schmulte

Henry comes to Austin to escape. When he opens a tattoo parlor across the way from a flower shop run by Alex, they learn to work together to protect their neighborhood and their hearts.

under the tuscan sun by stutteringpeach

The villa is, in a word, perfect. Set into the hillside and built in the classic Tuscan style, all brick and white-washed walls, with just one small bedroom and an en-suite upstairs, a cosy sitting room and a tiny kitchen downstairs. There’s a large table on the patio where Henry can already see himself drinking tea in the morning and writing late into the night. There’s even a pool. There is, however, one slight problem. There’s someone else here.

love me forever (fix me right) by sherryvalli

Alex has the perfect life. The perfect job, the perfect apartment, the perfect boyfriend. Everything’s perfect. He’s never been happier. Except for the fact that his boyfriend’s dad fucking hates him.

my eclipsed sun by weather_stained

“Alex, is there any way you can come? We’ve sent our security over, but if…if I’m right about what’s upset him, I have a feeling Henry’s not going to want to see anyone but you.” “I’m already booked on the next flight out.” Alex zips up his pack and slings it over one shoulder, keeping Bea held to his ear as he bounds down the stairs. Cash is waiting for him in the car, ready to chase Henry across the Atlantic for the second time in four years. It’s almost nostalgic—or it would be if he could stop shaking. After an important meeting with Mary, Henry is nowhere to be found. Alex drops everything to make sure he's safe.

tread softly (because you tread on my dreams) by helenblqckthorn

His stomach drops though when he realises he’s still hard. Shit. Think of Gran, think of very unattractive old lady wrinkles, think of England— Henry's point of view of the Red Room scene (or: the Hamilton portrait scene)

in time of daffodils by iphigenias

“Alright, alright, I get it. The solemn duty of academia calls.” Alex laughs as Henry play-shoves him, curling a hand protectively over the rim of his mug to stop it spilling. “So are you mine now?” “I’m always yours,” Henry answers, devastating and matter-of-fact, like he so often is. Alex hears himself make a groaning sort of sound before he’s putting his coffee down on the windowsill and climbing over the back of the sofa to get right on top of Henry, who laughs, muffled into Alex’s shoulder. “Careful with the—” Henry starts to say, but Alex’s knee has already nudged the laptop from the cushion to the carpet, where it lands with a dull thump. “Never mind,” Henry sighs, and the tail of the word catches into Alex’s mouth as he turns their bodies just so, so they’re kissing.

What to Wear by @whimsymanaged

Henry is going to a dress-up party but has nothing to wear.

How wonderful life is (while you're in the world) by mlvdybug

The corner of Henry’s mouth. It’s disappeared now, covered by the oxygen mask fixed securely around his head, but if Alex concentrates hard enough, he can see it sprawled out in front of him. Every ridge, every bend and edge and turn of it.  He knows Henry’s heart. And that’ll be enough.  (or: the one where henry gets shot and alex is a goddamn mess.)

Baby, it's Halloween and we can be anything by sheisraging

Alex is furious. More furious than he should be about the whole thing, but still. Plans were made. Money was spent. Costumes were purchased—not even rented—purchased!

you make it look so easy, i know it's not by anincompletelist

Bea’s to his left, speaking frantically on the phone with who Henry hopes is the fire brigade or someone else trained to deal with these— situations. In front of him, Pez is fumbling frustratedly with the water hose, showcasing his colorful vocabulary with a flourish of jerky hand movements and chaotic pacing. On either side of the fence, his neighbors are peaking over the sides to ask if everything’s okay, and Henry feels the resolution to make a good first impression crumbling and slipping rapidly out of his grasp. Even David watches on from inside the house, his sage eyes and patriotic bowtie appraising the scene and looking back to Henry as if to say I told you so. And the fryer — the fryer itself is up in flames, thick gray smoke swirling up into the air and soaring high above the tree line now. In the distance, the echo of sirens. Henry may faint right here, in the middle of his backyard at his new home before he's even unpacked, with all the neighbors and his family and friends watching on, on his first official American Thanksgiving. It is, by all means, not what he’d envisioned for the day. 

'til the walls did crumble and by ninzied

So much for using the wrong fork at dinner. He’s pretty sure this is a thousand times worse. Hundred-thousand? Nora could give him the exact number. Also, he’s pretty sure there’s still buttercream on his ass. . Or, Alex has his bisexual awakening in a bathroom at Buckingham Palace, and also finds leftover cake in Henry’s hair. The two things are not not related.

Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz by TuppingLiberty

Five times Alex wears an amusing bi pride shirt to Brooklyn Pride, and one time both he and Henry do it.

Moon Bride (To Have and To Hold) by SatinBirds

When the man is brought before him, it’s as if the whole world stops. Clad in delicate gossamer, his apparent frailty is accentuated by the sheer fabric. It is likely a cheap attempt to entice him, yet it only elicits displeasure from the king. He already wishes to dress this fragile figure in the veil of his people, cover him from invidious and lustful eyes.

once, successfully by vibrantsaturn

ACD okay, so. full disclosure and just so you know, i'm not into men or anything HYou're literally on Grindr right now? ACD ok??? and i guess people who are lactose intolerant can't walk down the fucking dairy aisle, huh???? i'm just looking, man or, Grindr, once (un)successfully, etc., etc.

kiss me through the phone by violetbaudelairequagmire

[Unknown Number] *Attached image: a shirtless, tanned torso, cropped at the top of shoulders, holding up two brightly patterned ties* which 1? Excuse me? or, Alex accidentally texts the wrong number and then just never stops.

Risotto + Melanze + Dolce (a love story) by villiageidiot

Alex doesn’t necessarily need a job—a full course load (plus some) is more than enough to fill his time—but he hasn’t had much of a social life since starting law school, and his coffee habit could use a few extra dollars. When June tells him the restaurant is looking for help, particularly on their Thursday Spaghetti Special night, he halfheartedly agrees. Everything that happens thereafter is technically her fault, a fact he likes pointing out any time she tries to yell at him for something, like serving uncooked garlic bread, or accidentally making a grown man cry, or breaking public indecency laws. Or: Alex works at an Italian restaurant and is very bad at it. Henry is a customer and doesn’t seem to mind.

until next time! if you'd like to be tagged in future lists for whatever reason, let me know!

tagging: @starkfridays, @stilesgivesmefeels

[freeuselandonorris]

↻FLIP FLOP: like milk from a baby, any scene - writer's pick

anon and kee @vroombeams thank you so much for requesting this 🙏

full disclosure i am in the very feral (like, even by my standards) bit of pms, and i wrote this all in one go while listening to rippin kittin on repeat. mmm cronenbergian monster sex

cw for oviposition i guess?

He tries not to think about it too much, usually. The aftermath. Everything he’s put inside Oscar, and what he might do with it afterwards. Get rid of it, he guesses. No different to how Oscar might nut inside some girl, tie off the condom and flush it down the toilet.

It feels obscene, watching one of his eggs slide free of Oscar’s body, right there in front of him. Profane in the same way it would feel to see Oscar’s organs, something that should be hidden away being exposed right there for him to look at.

Oscar’s stomach looks like it hurts. It’s swollen from hipbone to hipbone, his cock bouncing up stiff against the curve of it. Lando’s not hurting anymore. He feels like he always does afterwards, boneless and tired, limbs warm with a wrung-out kind of pleasure. 

His ovi twitches as he watches Oscar’s hole stretch itself open around the milky translucence of another egg. It’s the same colour as the boundaries to Oscar’s body, slick and pink. 

The egg slides from him, landing on the ruined towel. Oscar’s still stretched open, dripping Lando’s fluids. Lando’s still dripping, he can feel it running down his thigh. It’s never usually like this. He wants to rub the tip, the sensitive spot just inside that he’s never mentioned to Oscar. Oscar probably doesn’t even know he can come like that, probably thinks it’s just a once-a-month deal.

Oscar’s hole flexes, opening and closing like a tiny toothless mouth. His insides briefly visible, then hidden again. 

Lando reaches out before he can think better of it. He only means to touch, but Oscar’s so soft and wet and open his first two fingers slide straight in. With the tips of his fingers, still over-sensitive, he can feel something smooth and gelatinous. His eggs, nestled and warm. 

Too late, he registers the shocked jolt of Oscar’s body. 

“Sorry,” Lando says hastily, sliding his fingers free. He can’t quite bring himself to move away entirely, ends up leaving them awkwardly hovering, smearing slick across the seam of him. “I just – you’re full of me.”

His throat threatens to close up as he says it. Stupid. He should never have asked Oscar to do it. He should have stuck to the device they’d given him at the hospital when he’d turned 13, the embarrassing fleshlight with a thin plastic sac attached at one end, coloured cloudy grey like it was embarrassed too. At least that hadn’t made him feel like this. He didn’t feel anything much about it at all, then, other than relief it was over.

He should shut up, he knows, but his mouth is working without his permission now. It goes like this, sometimes. Endorphins, or something. Riding the wave of the emptiness, feeling cleansed and fresh. 

“I wanna feel it,” Lando’s mouth says for him. Voice barely audible, but not so quiet Oscar can’t hear. “Can I?” 

Oscar doesn’t reply. Doesn’t take his hand away from his face. But in hesitating, jerky movements, he widens his knees, exposing himself fully. 

Lando makes a desperate, low sound. His salivary glands are working overtime; he feels like he might start drooling, everything tasting metallic. Beneath the skin of his back, he feels the articulated plates of his spine ripple, pushing against the skin. 

He pushes his fingers back into Oscar’s body, rubbing the weeping tip of his ovi with the fingertips of his free hand, trying to ease the pressure. 

When he twists his wrist, he can feel his eggs moving against each other, slipping easily, conforming to the shape they’re given. Lando stretches his fingers until they ache, transfixed by the way Oscar’s body accommodates him like it welcomes his presence. 

The eggs, no longer held tight by Oscar’s body, slide past him. One slithers down into the vee of his fingers, nudging into the skin there. The fine hairs on Lando’s arms prickle. 

He moves, just slightly, and he can see the egg now. He takes his other hand away from himself, the fingers shining and smelling of salt. Holds his palm beneath Oscar and lets the egg drop into it. 

He’s never really looked at them properly. The strange texture of their membrane, smooth-rough like the skin of a peach beneath the coating of his slick. The odd vein-like structures beneath it, the murky shapes within. There’s weird shit online, he knows; people bursting them, getting off on it. It’s always made him feel sick, the thought of it. Feels cruel, somehow, even though there’s nothing – like, in them. No potential there, when they’re fresh from his body and dumped into the bin.

It’s warm in his palm, the heat of Oscar’s body soaking through. Not heavy, exactly, but a definite weight. For the first time, looking at it, Lando can kind of see how it might be something that could harbour life. 

Oscar’s leg keeps twitching. His cock is drooling against his belly. Lando wants to take it in his mouth, drink him down, return the favour. He wants to press one of the eggs into Oscar’s mouth, gag him with it, kiss him and pass it between their tongues until they’ve sucked the goodness from it. 

“There’s one more, I think,” he says. His throat feels ribbed and dry. He stretches his fingers, dislodging the final egg. “I can just about feel it. You might have to – push a bit.”

He can barely get the words out. Can’t tell what it is he wants.

He could lock the door, refuse to let Oscar out until they’ve figured out every possible combination for their bodies to fit together.

It’s never been like this before. Never felt so raw. He feels like chopped meat, teeth cutting into his tongue. He knows he’s doing a bad job of hiding the bits of himself he usually keeps under wraps. 

Dropping the eggs onto the towel, he grabs himself again, fucking his fingertip through the tip where he’s wet and swollen.

Oscar’s watching him, dazed and panting. 

He squeezes around Lando’s fingers, a sudden burst of strength from his exhausted muscles. Lando hears himself make a noise, and suddenly Oscar’s shaking all over, spilling. His own come, shooting from the tip of his untouched cock. The last of Lando’s eggs.

[ninyard]

I have this hc that Kevin Day- As great as he is at press and interviews- is actually kinda bad at good phrasing of serious, non exy tweets/social media posts. Like your earlier post about him being so awkward at being an all that people think he’s either super homophobic or closeted.

Like he doesn’t realize how much his looks/voice/face-to-face charm are more captivating than say… his articulation of anything outside of technical exy talk

YESYESYESYESYES

He’s so perfect in front of a camera. He’s so charming talking to interviewers. He’s such a gentleman talking to fans. He has the most perfect, beautiful, coached answers to any and every question about Exy, about his teammates, about the other teams. He has a stunning smile and a wonderful way with words and everyone falls in love with every word that leaves his mouth.

Ask him what he’s doing over the winter break. Ask Kevin Day what his favourite food is. Ask him what his thoughts are on [insert movie here], or ask him to explain how he feels about [any topic that isn’t exy].

As much as I joke about Kevin being dragged on social media constantly, and as much as I don’t think any of those tweets are in character or would actually happen, I DO think he frequently has to delete tweets or apologise for things online because he’s so bad at wording things when 1) his agent has told him what to tweet or 2) it’s not about Exy.

What Kevin means to say: There is beautiful diversity of LGBT+ people in exy, it’s a sport that already breaks down barriers by being mixed-gender, and having so many out and proud queer players in the sport is really refreshing and good to see

What Kevin tweets: There’s too many gay people that play Exy

What Kevin means to say: I want to be clear about my own struggles with anxiety so people are aware that they’re not alone; that talking about mental health is becoming de-stigmatised, and it’s important to remember that “celebrities” have mental health problems too, that they’re just ordinary people at the end of the day. They’re just like any other person with mental health issues.

What Kevin tweets: Nobody cares about celebrities with mental illnesses.

Something like that. Poor guy can never say anything right.

I learned something recently about accepting that sometimes people “speak in draft”. They get the thought out of their head before it’s fully formed, and sometimes they’ll need to go back and revise what they’ve said because it’s not exactly what they meant to say. People speak in draft because they’re not always going to say the perfect words to perfectly convey their points all the time. Kevin tweets in draft. But he… can’t really take it back. He tries to reread and reread things over and over again to make sure it’s okay to tweet but he is so terrible for tweeting things and having to delete them because nononono I didn’t meant it like that.

[catoperated]

At some point we’re gonna have to talk about how toxic websites like 4chan and Something Awful (rest in piss, Lowtax) influenced trans spaces online.

I only ever used SA back in the day, and it’s now mostly forgotten that “troon” came from a portmanteau of “trans goon” (goon being a member of something awful, not like a gooner… but, eh, it’s still apt), though it was always meant to be belittling.

And then there I was, a transmasc egg surrounded by transfemmes. I didn’t know how to express that I wanted what they had but different, cause I seriously didn’t know trans men existed back then. All I saw were transfemmes, and most of them were transmedicalists. I got called a transphobe when I said wearing a skirt shouldn’t be a required part of transitioning. I have since met many cool trans ladies who aren’t truscum, but the scars remain.

At the time I couldn’t fully articulate how uncomfortable I was with the idea of transitioning to the same old binary, because I also didn’t know GNC was a thing. So for a time I was suicidal because I had no idea of the options open to me. I’m not sure that reading Theory back then would have helped. Having read Theory now (both feminist and communist), I’ve come to the conclusion people lean on it way too much, take it way too literally, never considering that the things proposed have to be adapted to changing times and circumstances. It’s almost like evangelicals interpreting the Bible literally—to everyone’s detriment.

My point being, you can read anything, watch any YouTuber, but for fuck’s sake form your own opinions instead of just throwing books and videos at people like it’ll explain everything and also must be followed to the letter. It won’t, and it shouldn’t.

Yeah, I was also briefly suicidal over leftists dogpiling disability activists for daring to get groceries delivered or using plastic straws. Only other disabled people probably remember this, but it was perpetuated by that butter cat account, which was the most surreal fucking thing to watch unfold.

I’m just tired. Tired of self-proclaimed feminists failing to recognize the patriarchy is what makes us all suffer, including cis men, and that’s the real enemy. I know radfems are largely to blame for pushing the “all men bad” narrative again with the express purpose of dividing trans people, I’ve seen them cackling about what they get away with on accounts where they pretend to be trans. It’s sad people are making their work so easy for them.

I don’t hate or resent transwomen (I can’t remember if the space is preferred or not, but I’m sitting here sweating over it, afraid someone will call out my language when “troon” is already up there), but here I am right back at that awful feeling I had when trying to say skirts should not equal femininity. Fuck, I would probably be suicidal again if not for my partner, who is the best thing to ever happen in my life (love you, babe).

I don’t know how to word this better or more succinctly. My mind wanders a lot when writing. But it’s not just me, right? I see the schism forming and it’s bad for all of us, because the people who want us dead do not care how we present ourselves or how well we pass. We desperately need to support and uplift each other if we’re going to survive all the shit they keep throwing at us all in governments across the entire goddamn world.

So yeah, we need to look at how those websites poisoned the well, as it’s where that mentality of “if you’re not queer/trans in the proper way I deserve to call you a slur” mentality comes from. The pickme urge to go “I’m not like those cringe fags/trannies, I’m one of the cool ones,” too. To reiterate, the people who want us dead for existing do not care one way or the other.

Fuck, why am I worrying about how I word this? If people are gonna interpret this in bad faith there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I just wanted to get this off my zipper-tits—which I’m stealing from you fuckers who use it against transmascs. I got my dirty testosterone fingers all over it and it’s ruined now, sorry.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Reader telling Peter that they're gonna be having a baby

Or

Charlie's first words?

I might have to write something about Charlie’s first words too because I have so many ideas <3

There’s just something about the universe that never wants you to execute your perfectly thought out plans. You spend so much time agonizing over the perfect way to do things, and yet the universe always seems to spoil your surprises. The first time you planned to ask Peter out, you’d sat and thought over your words for days until you could perfectly articulate your feelings, and then you’d stumbled over a loose piece of sidewalk and Peter had helped you up, and he’d been the one to ask you out for ice cream while patching up your bloody knee.

And now, your next perfectly planned moment is spoiled by Peter coming home early. Most days, you’d do anything to have a few extra hours with him in the evenings, but tonight your surprise is nowhere near ready, and you’re cursing every deity you can think of for ruining your night.

Rushing towards the front door, you slide on your socked feet as you try and distract Peter before he can spoil the surprise.

“Can you run out and grab something for you?” You ask before he even gets the chance to say hello, his bright smile turning slightly confused at your frantic appearance.

“Sure, what do you need?” He replies, already picking his keys up again as the wheels in your head spin and spin as you try and come up with an answer. Your mind is fully blank, though, so you end up just staring at your boyfriend.

While you try and come up with anything you’d possibly need to get him out of the apartment for just a couple more minutes, Peter starts to take in his surroundings to try and piece together the reason behind your strange behavior, and you add his intelligence to your list of curses. He takes in the balloons and the mess of the kitchen, ingredients and pans spread out across the countertops and the table, the gift bag and the mountain of tissue paper beside it, and you can see the moment the realization dawns on him.

“What did I forget?” He asks, as birthdays and anniversaries and holidays float through his head, and your heart breaks a little at the sadness in his eyes as he thinks he forgot something important.

“Nothing,” you promise him, steering him towards the couch and making no comments about the fact that his shoes are still on. Once he’s sat, you hurry back towards the kitchen to grab the gift bag, hiding it behind your back before feeling silly when you remember he’s already seen it.

“Open it,” you tell him as you set it on his lap, hesitating before sitting down next to him because you haven’t had time to really plan this out and now you’re feeling like you need to pace around the room. He’s slow and methodical as he opens the gift, nothing like his usual rambunctious self who opens presents like a toddler, and he’s gentle as he pulls out what’s inside.

It’s a pack of onesies, all with little science themed designs, because you couldn’t find a baby announcement themed one that didn’t make you cringe. This set is practical, too, because who would dress their baby in an outfit announcing their own arrival? At least, that’s the conclusion you came to as you spent hours and hours trying to find the perfect way to tell him, because you knew your words would fail you.

When he finally looks away from the gift, his eyes are wide and your briefly terrified, before he sniffles and sets the onesies aside to wrap you in the tightest hug possible, and your finally more relaxed than you’ve been since you left the doctor’s office the other day, your spiral of anxiety ending as it always does, with Peter by your side to keep you grounded.

“I had a whole big dinner planned too, but you ruined that by coming home early,” you tell him when he pulls away, the two of you giggling because you’ve never been happier, even though your perfectly thought out plan was ruined.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

No but you’re so right about not wanting to watch season 8 because after how they handled the doppelgänger storyline I don’t want to watch it, with the rumours Gavin isn’t coming back and how this show has handled estranged parents storylines in the past I just have zero faith they’re going to do Eddie any justice especially after they sent him back to before the show levels of development, practically erasing everything we’ve seen him work on from seasons 2-6, like I can just picture the Diaz parents redemption and Eddie thanking them for taking Chris and ignoring everything a little like they did with the Buckleys

And something something this show hates happy queer parents, I don’t know how to really articulate this but like even if they do a gay Eddie storyline now, it’s not sitting right with me that it’s only happening now Chris is gone, like I know Eddie filters life through Chris/doesn’t really know who he is without the parent role etc etc I know that but with the way they treat Henren on the show and the way they treat Denny and Mara’s storylines, it almost seems like they weren’t going to let Eddie figure himself out while also actively parenting—it’s giving the straight grandparents need to save Chris from his gay dad (like they wanted to all along) i don’t know if I’m getting my point across well but it’s giving a “if you’re queer and a parent you will not be happy on this show your kid/s will get taken away from you”

👏👏👏

this. i understand the argument that eddie needs a chance to examine things without looking throughthe Chris lense, but it feels like he absolutely 100% could have had the realization because of Chris. like it would have taken chris saying he views buck as his dad one time and eddie would have spiralled and everything would have begun to fall into place— i get gavin having conflicts due to his move and possibly having to leave the show but there were so many other ways to essentially write him off (yes ik nothing is confirmed and that he very well could come back in a much slimmed down onscreen role such as may/harry) but it feels like they just went “eh… eddie started to reconcile with his dad…. let’s just send chris away even though eddie realistically would not have built up that much trust in this short amount of time (especially w helena)

and i 1000% agree w it mimicking the henren trauma bc why are we targeting the black lesbians with the same storyline we already saw with Nia…. why are we now lumping eddie into the traumatized poc paranoid losing their kid trope? especially if they plan to make him queer?

like i fully understand this show is a drama, but i miss when it was a DRAMA and not a SOAP OPERA… like earlier seasons had their fair amount of dramatic shit going on but this is just ridiculous and some of it feels farcical to me at this point… especially with the handling of buck’s bisexuality where his coming out scene to maddie included a joke about “always checking out a hot guy’s ass” once again reducing his character down to sex even though Buck has grown past that… idk it just rubs me the wrong way that we’re either sex-hungry, sassy, traumatized, or all three in one and it doesn’t sit right with me.

also them actively chosing to make a known problematic character queer just to serve as a plot device for a sexuality arc that didn’t even live up to any potential bc they kissed once, went on a coffe date and bam they’re suddenly together? even for a straight couple that’s such an anticlimactic relationship buildup let alone a queer one… and not only that but using his queerness as an excuse for his racism and misogynistic behavior as a way to sweep it under the rug is so icky to me… like why is the only decently treated canonically queer character Josh??? (even though even he was part of that whole hate crime plot!)

it’s so hard as a queer person to watch other queer people be told by straight people that they should settle for what we have… and that those queer people listen and also somehow think that settling is all we can do. i know it’s easy to settle for shit, but i’m sorry i did not spend six years watching these two build something beautiful to see it thrown away because what they gave us is (not even) “good enough.”

it really is disheartening.

anyway sorry for turning this into another rant post, anon, i just liked your added point of the traumatized queer parent thing and wanted to expand on that some more!

[boxheadpaint]

juice induced hill depression. Back on meds again and hopefully going to get in touch with a new psych who can prescribe me something else. Have been very tired and unjoyful the past week but better now and playing modded Skyrim, initially just to make my oc in it but then just kept slamming more thangs in there. Mod that puts bunny rabbits everywhere. Also is there a mod that adds cute animal ears/suits as wearables or one that even makes the girl armor less sucks. Like im either fully leaning into the immersion breaking for self indulgence sake or im getting rid of the annoying shit.

visiting mom in Vegas earlier this month was nice except for the part where I hate Vegas. I know im not great with travel and settling into places can be a tough one for my brain but also my god it’s just evil there. Brilliantly so but still evil. I would have loved to enjoy the scenery surrounding the place more as deserts are just very beautiful and fascinating places but at no point during the day was the temperature less than a full hundred degrees Fahrenheit. It barely dropped during the night either. Between that and varying physical ailments (Oof Ouch My Digestive Sensitivities Lol) (Oof Ouch My Tendons Lol) (Oof Ouch The Agony Caused By Using Stairs Lol) it was the perfect conditions to be a miserable pile when I wanted to be with my family. As sad I was to part ways again I was not sorry to leave that place. Gained a new appreciation for changing up what I eat randomly to keep my body on its toes. At one point mom brought us to a pub and her husband asked for Diet Pepsi while I asked for regular Pepsi. Visually there’s no difference so we got handed the others pepsi and swapped. And then later after he refilled his Diet Pepsi another waiter came up and wordlessly refilled mine as well. With Diet Pepsi. Wasn’t even asked. Fucking stunned. Also went to a near dead mall that was nice anyway

stuck on brain zaps as a symptom of Specifically antidepressants withdrawal. There’s some things describing them as “mini seizures” in function. To me it’s like the body noticing the usual isn’t happening for some reason so it tries to jumpstart the brain into working good like before. universities I can go to with my theories. Back in and at it this week, hopefully to remain consistent for longer than before which will also likely help with the depression and anxiety. More people should just put stuff in their blood if they can

it can be embarrassing to express your misery more clearly to someone, specifying the fact fact thoughts running through your head. But then again it’s only embarrassing because your mind convinced you so, and will convince you that holding it in is also cruel and selfish. Finding it funny that animals probably don’t have as complex spirals and bouts of depression because they dont have a language to articulate to themselves in their own heads that something is awful in a very specific and contradicting way. Or actually no because there is still pattern recognition but that’s more a paranoia learned thing. Is there an animal that can randomly, for seemingly no reason evident to anyone including itself, experience crushing dread and self doubt. Is there an animal that feels shame besides man

had a tilt table test that was embarrassing too but for much more clear concrete reasons. Somehow didn’t know about that second part, and did complain through most of the first part because Oof Ouch Everything Hurts Lol. REALLY did not know the iv thing and had to once again sadly state that no, It has to go in the hand . I will say the experience was funny in the second part from the other ways because my first reaction was literally just “Uh Oh.” The moment I realized it was going to get worse. all I know is my blood pressure stayed consistent throughout, I don’t know what else im gonna hear about it. Hopefully something helpful.

is setting up an ABLE account difficult? Can anybody do it? It’s an issue dealt with by a lot of people but I should at least try to find a way to save money from benefits for the future or in case some stupid medical shit happens that the health won’t cover. I just looked up and saw Vinny sleeping while propping lubics head up with his foot. Hoping I can enjoy things normally again shortly,

8/26/2024, Still better than july

[savagewildnerness]

Quick, daft improvise to this wee scene today… so I did. I don’t like it so I’m not gonna listen, I’m just gonna post!!!!

I am SO excited to watch Nicolas in full! I can’t articulate it completely. But I’ll say it’s exciting to me both for what I know in my bones of Nicolas AND for what I don’t know!

I started playing violin aged 8: just free lessons in school (I never had a proper, paid for, private violin lesson in my life. Not even one.) then piano aged 12 - so OLD to begin (& incidentally around when I read The Vampire Lestat.)

I danced from before I was 3 years old & through that, always loved music. But I also always knew I was *too old* when I started playing instruments (coupled with my free lessons & nobody in my family being musical… & my own extreme quietness & lack of self confidence… & knowing other children, both objectively better than me & more popular as humans than me & who perceived themselves therefore as incredibly superior to me) to ever be a musician.

I can’t even explain in words how I, even aged 12 related to Nicki’s sense of what can & will never be. It made me feel impossibly ancient. I can tell you that I refused to learn how to ride a bike, even though my Dad was an excellent cyclist aged FIVE as I knew a friend who could already ride a bike at 5, thus was convinced I was *too old* to add to the essence of my self. But I imagine, if you are not me it may seem slightly silly?

Aged 12, I likely didn’t understand the full depth of Nicolas’ cynicism. And, as, even now, an idealist who related to Nicki so deeply in some ways, I do feel there’s a part of me unable to fully comprehend Nicolas beyond how my 12-year-old-self resonated with him. I can’t fully imagine the depth of Nicolas’s existential despair & cynicism as I personally relate to his self so deeply in some ways, yet the idealism in my nature dampens my personal existential despair. But I do despair now…

Anyway; that makes me even more excited to experience Nicki on TV, brought into reality! Because I do not know or understand him fully… yet! But I see Joseph Potter’s acting & I feel the feeling in it & so I know that Nicolas, and how meaningful he is to me shall be deepened. What joy. 🥰🎼🎻

To extend the why of why I relate to Nicolas - My piano teacher went into semi-retirement when I was 13 & cut back on most pupils. I was obviously still a beginner, having only just started playing at 12... so she was going to cut me & told my Mum so. Then I had that week’s piano lesson with her & something about the musicality or emotion in how I played my simple stuff that week meant she told my Mum she simply couldn’t stop teaching me. So I kept having lessons with her till I left school at 18.

I do not consider myself a musician at all. I’m not good enough. But some people felt *some thing* from how I played even as a teen: another way I related to Nicolas! And I knew my failings & all I’d never be, like Nicki knows. And I know how that feels.

Lestat talks of beauty & emotion in Nicolas’ playing. But when you personally know your playing is technically lacking, a compliment is lovely, of course. But Nicolas & I both know the truth: that we are lesser and not-enough and failures.

For me though, never fear - that I know my limitations is a huge part of why I share music here! I want everyone to feel they can create. Not necessarily music, but whatever they feel - to transform it in whatever way to some thing.

And the errors & imperfections don’t matter. The act of creating is being alive 🥰.

[mothybean]

Airhead

Chapter 3

---

Our study session ended a little after midnight. Once I pulled myself together and focused on Jinx’s explanations, rather than her lips, I actually learned something. She was a lot smarter than I had anticipated. Jinx agreed that Heimerdinger’s approach to teaching was niche and super convoluted. I was shocked that she was able to decode his old English riddles and with such ease. It was almost second nature to her. As we went through each question, Jinx was able to break them down in a way where my brain could genuinely absorb the information. I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, the fear of failure was becoming less intense the longer I paid attention. It wavered, but ultimately, our session did help. I had a new profound sense of confidence after just a few hours, who knows how much confidence I’d have in just a week!

I closed my laptop and shoved it back into my bag. As excited as I was, I was exhausted. We studied for about five hours straight. Jinx seemed pretty tired too. I didn’t want to push her. She sat on the far end of the couch, watching me gather my belongings as she fiddled with one of her braids. I couldn’t help but feel flustered, her gaze on me. Being the awkward mess I already was, my awkwardness always intensified if there was a pretty girl nearby. It was a curse. I was very well spoken, but put me in a room with a hottie and it’s bye bye articulate and hello neanderthal who lives in a cave and shits in a hole. 

“I really appreciate you helping me out tonight. I’m sorry it went on so late.” I said softly, hiking my ten thousand pound bag on my back. Jinx stretched her legs out on the couch and her arms above her head, the intensity of her stretch caused her black tee to hike up a tad, her stomach revealing itself slightly. My eyes immediately homed in on her navel, my thirsty side was getting stronger by the second. As I examined her stomach, I noticed she had even more tattoos; the same blue clouds she had on her arm. They seemed to trail down her whole right side given the line up. My thoughts started to wander, wondering just how far down they went. My curiosity was piqued.

“No biggie.” She waved me off.  “Lemme know if you need more help.” She said casually, her body sinking into the couch, her shirt riding up even more, her stomach now fully exposed. I couldn’t help but stare. Much like Vi’s, she was in good shape too. Not as much as Vi, but Jinx absolutely had definition. My mouth went dry at the sight of her. The primal urge to drop my bag and pounce on her like a wild animal was intense. As much as I wanted to, I seriously needed to pump the breaks. She was my tutor and my best friend’s girlfriend’s little sister. Would it be weird if we started dating? I wonder what Vi would say, no, what would Caitlyn say? Did Jinx even swing that way? It seemed like a fair accusation, most bi or gay chicks had dyed hair and tattoos. I don’t think I was too far off based on my educated guesses.

“Hello?” Jinx questioned. I snapped my attention to the blue hair goddess still sprawled out on the couch. Goddamn she looked like a painting. “You good? You’ve been like…staring at me.” Once again, I felt my cheeks go red hot, my heart started to pound a bit harder. My heartbeat felt so loud, I was starting to think she could hear it.

“Oh, sorry, I just…” I needed to think of something and quick! It was only a matter of time before the incoherent babbling started. “I was just going to ask you about…your tattoos! W-where did you get them?” I felt sweat start to form  on the back of my neck with how nervous I was. Jinx raised an eyebrow in question. She pulled her shirt down, covering her exposed skin and sat up straight, her eyes burning into mine. 

At that moment, the room’s vibe suddenly felt…different. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was a palpable tension. I was praying that she wasn’t pissed off at me being a thirsty idiot. I was staring at her like she was some exhibit afterall. Who wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable? I was about to apologize when Jinx suddenly stood up, her eyes still locked onto mine and pulled her shirt over her head. My heart was racing faster than a fuck boy street racing at two in the morning. I couldn’t think of one coherent thought as she stood there in only her sports bra. My eyes slowly looked her up and down, counting every single cloud she had on her immaculate complexion. 

“I got these done a couple of years ago. You like ‘em?” She smirked as she modeled her tattoos, her fingertips slowly dragging down her arm seductively. I felt my temperature gauge break. I’m pretty sure I looked sunburned with how red I was. She was stunning. My legs desperately wanted to move forward towards her. I fought hard against my subconscious behavior, counteracting them by giving her a forced smile.

“Wow.” Was all I could mutter. Jinx chuckled softly, obviously amused with my reaction. She stared at me a bit longer before her hands dropped to the hem of her pants, slowly pulling them down. Stunning and VERY out of pocket. If I were a cartoon character, steam would have been pouring out of my ears and blood would have been spewing out of my nose. I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t know if I could handle it, considering I almost creamed my pants just by standing in her bra and pants. It was game over if I saw her in her bra AND underwear. I had to get out of there. Fast.

“Oh! Wow, look at the time! It’s really late. You’re so gorgeous-I mean-THEY’RE so gorgeous…haha. Silly me. I’m always messing up my words. You’ll have to show me next time! Uh, bye!” With my babbling idiot making an appearance, I took that as my cue and I sprinted towards the front door and bolted outside, leaving the door wide open. My heart was thumping against my rib cage like an angry UFC fighter. What on Earth was she doing? Wait, what was I doing? I was just in there ogling her and then the moment she makes an advance, a super strong one if I may add, I dip?! I was pathetic. I smacked myself in the face, realizing my mistake and started to turn around. The moment I faced the front of the house, Jinx was leaning in the doorway, her arms crossed and a smug look of satisfaction planted on her beautiful face.

“See ya next time, Y/N.” She chuckled, closing the door, an audible lock sound echoed. I stood there embarrassed as ever. I probably looked like a moron with how I reacted. At least she said ‘next time’, reassuring that I didn’t completely freak her out by my nincompoop behavior. I couldn’t get her body out of my mind, her blue clouds flashed everytime I closed my eyes. I was captivated to say the least. 

I got into my car and tossed my bag onto the passenger seat. I turned the ignition, my car’s engine stuttering a bit before fully turning on. I caught a glimpse of myself in my rear view mirror as I backed out of the driveway. I was still red as a lobster. I couldn’t wait to get home. I was going to take the coldest shower in existence. I had to cool down my core. If my body went any hotter, I’m pretty sure I would have melted into a pitiful puddle. I had to say, even though the night ended kind of weird, I was eager to see her again. When next time rolls around, I won’t run.