#I’ll take my crumbs anywhere i can get them

[seriouslycalamitous]

Madagio said “don’t make attachments” at the same time as the cinematic was hovering over a field of roses so HAH HIDEDUO

SUCK IT FACELESS ENTITY, I WILL ALWAYS FIND A WAY TO WIN.

[hyunebunx]

DENI!!! i've been a little bit out of here 😣😣 but i received the notif of your post......... the soft thought ( more like domestic details, which i love ) is painting hyune's nails. you do not know how to properly do it, because the nail polish always lands on the skin surrounding the nail, and even if you try to do a desing, like a little flower w a couple of points, it ends up all messed up. imagine a quiet afternoon, after watching some tv show, all cozy and warm, and he offers you his nails to practise a little bit. even if you mess it up again, he might actually paint yours and try to follow the same messed up pattern to go matching 🥺

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff and even more fluff!!

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: MARS!! i wrote this in one go, istg this is the cutest idea ever :( thank you for helping me and letting me write soft hyune fluff, this fixed me fr. i hope you enjoy, my love <333

“Can I do it?” You ask, eyeing his clean nails as Hyunjin reaches up to fix his face mask before doing the same with yours, making sure neither of your headbands fell too low on your foreheads.

“Hm?” He hums, smoothing the thin layer of the sheet mask on your already smooth skin, smiling once your eyes meet. “Do what?”

“Your nails.” You nod towards them, catching one of his hands and bringing it to your lips to peck the back of it, much to his displeasure as the action moves the mask around your face awkwardly. Even so, he was so close to you on the tiny couch that you could feel his heart beating wildly, betraying his true feelings.

Hyunjin tries not to smile too brightly as he nods, fondness clear as day in brown eyes even in the dim light of the living room. “Knock yourself out, baby.” He was never one to reject you, no matter how silly or out of pocket your requests were. Hyunjin would move mountains for you, after all, if that meant you’d be happy forever and keep smiling for him until the day he took his last breath.

The tv ran idly in the background, a rerun of one of your favorite shows as you got to work, gently placing both of your boyfriend’s hands in your lap. His small collection of nail polish was laid before you on the coffee table, accompanied by a file, a bag of cotton pads and nail polish remover. Just in case, you know.

Gently taking one of his hands, you subconsciously intertwine your fingers together as you look over the bottles, brainstorming. Hyunjin takes this moment of silence as an opportunity to reach over and turn on one of lamps by the couch, providing you with more light.

“What are you thinking?” His voice is low, not wanting to disturb you, softly pulling his hand away to massage your palm instead.

“Ladybug nails.”

“What?” He laughs, scooting closer.

You nod, reaching for the bottle of red nail polish. Not like you had many options to begin with, Hyunjin’s palette was limited – something you’d never thought you’d say.

“Your nails are always so dark, I was thinking of doing a cute design for a change.”

He arches a dark brow. “You could use white.”

You pause, tearing your gaze from the bottle to stare at him blankly. “Ladybugs aren’t white.”

The laugh that escapes him has your heart double in size, feeling all warm and fuzzy as he throws his head back in genuine amusement, finding you even more endearing than usual. “Alright, ladybug, do whatever you please. I’ll stop interfering.”

And he keeps his promise, quiet as a mouse as you begin painting his nails, attention stolen by the tv and the snacks you’ve prepared for your weekly movie night. Hyunjin has mastered the art of eating with a face mask on, no crumb landing anywhere near and messing it up. There was nothing he couldn’t do, it seemed.

You’re almost done with his one hand when he slowly reaches to remove your face mask, joining his on a napkin on the table. Usually, he’d also massage the remaining serum into your skin but you could tell he didn’t want to bother you from your new favorite past time. A past time you weren’t particularly skilled in, the nail polish getting everywhere around his nail and even on your clothes, staining the material.

“Uh…” Hyunjin turns to you, wondering why you were sounding so disheartened. “I think I messed up.”

Bringing his hand to eye level, Hyunjin studies your work curiously, analyzing every brush stroke and the big, blotchy black spots that were supposed to be polka dots. The colors were everywhere, on his cuticles and even further down to his knuckles. You’ve mostly stuck to the area around the nail so he couldn’t understand how a black spot managed to go that far.

“Baby, are the ladybugs trying to escape?” He smiles, holding back laughter.

You pout and he leans over to plant smooches on both of your cheeks, trying to make you feel better. “Don’t make fun of me, I tried my best.”

Hyunjin nods, grabbing the black polish from your hand. “I can see that.” Without warning, he starts applying it down his index finger in a strange pattern, causing your mouth to fall open in shock. “And it looks great, love.”

You knew he was lying to try and make you feel better, there was no way he actually thought that.

Biting down on his plush bottom lip, he eventually puts the brush away and gets a hold of your hand before pressing the back of his onto yours, squeezing lightly. You’re so confused that no words escape you, wondering if this was his way of getting back at you for messing up his nails and getting his hand all dirty.

“Done!” He beams, looking so much younger with his hair all pushed back and bare face, cozy and cuddly in his soft pajamas. “Now we match.”

Looking down, you realize the pattern he drew on himself was now on your hand too, tiny lines and spots resembling even tinier footsteps. A ladybug’s footsteps. Or tracks, actually.

Forget beating, your heart almost bursts out of your chest and latches onto him, first his cheek and then plump lips, smooching the area before intertwining with his own and running away together like two forbidden lovers. Hyunjin brought so much needed light into your life, you could barely believe he was real and not a fragment of your rich imagination.

“The ladybug that ran away from my nail has found its way home to you.” He finally laughs, eyes two crescent moons. “It’s silly, please forgive me.”

“Silly?” You blurt out, dragging him by the hand just so he can fall into your waiting arms, hugging him tightly. “It’s only silly if you don’t actually draw a cute ladybug on my hand now.” His arms sneak around your middle, face hiding in your chest as yours move over his shoulders, breathing in the scent of him.

“Only if you do my other hand.” He murmurs, placing a linger kiss right above your beating heart.

You can’t help but grin, thankful for having such a kind person by your side. “Deal!”

[suashii]

— 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎, 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 1.6k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ suna and reader are roommates ﾉ jealousy ofc :3 ﾉ + atsumu appearance !

moving in with suna was a bad idea.

he’s not a bad roommate. sure, he takes extra long showers and uses up all the hot water at least once a week and you’ve had to remind him to wash his dishes every now and then, but he’s not a bad roommate.

your frustration that comes with being suna’s roommate has less to do with him and more to do with the feelings you’ve been hellbent on keeping a secret ever since they became known to you a few weeks ago.

that much is getting harder these days with midterms being upon you. there’s been a girl over the apartment—some chick suna was paired with to work on a presentation. that fact alone doesn’t bother you; suna was kind enough to ask before inviting her over. she’s where your problem lies.

she’s shameless, really. always laughs a little too loud at jokes that aren’t that funny and always sits a little too close to suna when you’re positive the coffee table they’re working at isn’t that small. and the worst part is that suna is oblivious to it all.

even now he’s blissfully ignorant of the way she’s not so discreetly flirting with him. she’s supposed to be packing up to leave but, like she’s had some sort of life-changing revelation, she stops in her tracks and turns to suna, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you have a volleyball game this week, right?”

from the kitchen counter, you roll your eyes and stuff another spoonful of rice into your mouth. you wouldn’t normally eat in the kitchen while she was here but one too many spills by your laptop and the inevitable crumbs left in your bed have kept you from taking your meals back to your room. you’re starting to think a sticky keyboard or the unpleasant feel of tiny pieces of food against your skin would be preferable to whatever you’re about to witness.

suna nods and she pulls her hand away to clap. “perfect! i’ll be there to cheer you on!”

her exaggerated excitement causes you to snort, earning the attention of both of them. there’s a curious expression on suna’s face but the girl is all but staring daggers at you like you popped her bubble of joy and ruined the moment. you’re tempted to laugh.

“sorry, saw something funny on my phone,” you lie, shooting the two of them a smile before turning around to wash your dishes.

you dawdle at the sink until you hear the front door close. suna appears as you’re drying your hands and you spare him a glance, wondering if he’ll bring up your strange behavior. part of you hopes he does—maybe then you could open his eyes, finally make him privy to that girl’s blatant attraction to him.

he doesn’t question it, though. instead, he asks, “can i see what you were laughing at?”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

“you don’t get it, ‘tsumu, she’s actually the worst,” you tell him, dramatically dropping your head on his shoulder.

“why don’t you just leave when you know she’s coming over?”

your eyes cut over to atsumu, an unsavory frown tugging at your lips due to his outrageous suggestion. you can’t believe your best friend would side with her. “why should i? i’m the one who lives here.”

“because, clearly, it’s bothering you.” he isn’t the least bit apologetic for his outlandish recommendation. “look, it’s either that or you come out and tell suna that you like him. i’m tired of hearing you bitch and moan every time i’m here. we’re supposed to be watching them do that.” atsumu points to the screen of your laptop that’s playing some trashy reality show the two of you are hooked on.

you click your tongue at his blunt response, lifting your head from his shoulder. maybe he’s right—complaining won’t get you anywhere, but you’re too proud to tell him so. “hey. this is the thanks i get for putting up with your relationship problems? you ungrateful brat.”

you flick his forehead which elicits a shocked gasp from the blonde. a victorious grin is in the process of making its way to your lips when the plush of one of the many stuffed animals you keep in your room hits your cheek. your jaw drops in surprise at atsumu’s courageous counter.

“i’m going to kill you.”

you aren’t usually one for using your precious plushies as a weapon but any one within your reach is promptly launched at the setter. he dodges some and is whacked by others, all while theatrically screeching for you to stop. you’ve still got some steam left by the time you run out of ammunition and atsumu can tell. he reaches out, taking your wrists in his hands to prevent you from doing anything.

“wait, i’m sorry,” he breathes out, strands of messy hair falling in front of his face. “truce?”

you’re considering whether or not you want to take him up on his offer when your door swings open. suna’s on the other side.

his eyes scan the room, taking in the mess of colorful stuffed animals strewn across the space before they land on you. not you, but the way atsumu’s holding you. something about it makes his jaw tighten.

“hey.” your voice, breathier than usual, convinces suna to meet your eye. “what’s up?”

the scene he walked in on almost made him forget why he’d come by in the first place. “i’m ordering food. do you want anything?”

you hum in contemplation and then smile. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

he nods, readying to close the door. “i’ll call you when it’s here.”

the click of the door shutting sounds over the indiscernible voices coming from your laptop. taking your hands back from atsumu, you straighten out your clothes as thoughts of suna cross your mind. he usually finds any way to make a conversation drag, lingering in your doorway even when you’ve told him to leave so you can go to sleep.

you’re about to ask atsumu if he caught on to his friend’s abnormal lack of words, but he’s got another idea.

“yeah, thanks, i don’t want anything,” atsumu shouts at the closed door.

forty minutes pass before the episode ends and atsumu takes his leave. you see him out, planning your next viewing party as he puts on his shoes. he whispers something about settling shit with suna before then so he isn’t subject to your fussing the next time he comes around and darts down the hall before your fist can meet his shoulder.

you make a mental note to get back at him when you see him tomorrow as you shut the door and spin on the ball of your foot. from the foyer, you can see suna situated at the coffee table. there are plastic delivery bags on the surface and he seems to have already started eating from his portion.

“what happened to letting me know when the food was here?” you ask, shuffling over to his figure and plopping down on the floor beside him.

through a mouthful of noodles, he replies, “i didn’t want to interrupt.”

you almost scold him for talking with food in his mouth but then his words register. your eyebrows furrow as you split your wooden chopsticks. “interrupt what, exactly?”

it’s petty, he knows, but he can’t ignore the feeling that’s been gnawing at him since he saw atsumu touching you so comfortably. it’s like the image is seared into his eyelids and he’s forced to see it every time he blinks.

“i don’t know.” he flicks a mushroom with his utensil. “just seemed like you two were in the middle of something when i walked in.”

you hum, not paying much mind to his words as you pick up the stir-fry with your chopsticks. the noodles hang right in front of your lips when you respond, “i guess we kind of were.”

suna frowns at your answer. he wanted to hear you say it was nothing so he could kick himself for being so unreasonably bent out of shape. instead, your reply fuels him to ask the question he’d been wondering about for nearly the past hour. “are you and atsumu together?”

“what?” you sputter around your noodles. you want to tell him no but, unlike suna, you aren’t one for talking with your mouth full. your silence, however, only leads suna to keep going.

“i don’t care if you are but you should have told me so i wouldn’t just barge in on-”

“i’m not dating atsumu,” you finally reveal after swallowing your food. you’re not sure what possesses you to say the next part—perhaps you feel the need to really drive your point home—but it comes out speedily. “i like you.”

quiet blankets the room following your declaration. the two of you stare at each other with parted lips, suna’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. his lack of a response makes your heart beat heavily against your chest. it’s loud in your ears and you wonder if he can hear it too.

you breathe out an awkward laugh after a couple more seconds of silence. “look-”

“i like you, too,” suna admits.

“jeez, suna, you should have just said that!” you slap his shoulder, cheeks warming in belated embarrassment. “i thought i was going to have to move out because of one-sided feelings.”

“sorry.” he chuckles, rubbing the spot you had just hit. it didn’t hurt, but it felt different than the ones he had been met with in the past. he could get used to the tingles you leave behind on his skin. “i had to let it set in.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Right here? Right now? | Jack Hughes x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!!! Language, breeding kinks, unprotected, alcohol.

Summary: Jack has this incredible idea to have some extra fun at Jesper’s house at a party.

A:N- idk if this has been done, but I thought it was fun!!! Lmk if you’ve seen something similar (sorry)

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Today is December 31, New Year’s Eve. Jesper decided to throw a party to celebrate with the team. Some of us couldn’t make it, but we did party all night. Most of the couples came, and Nico, Luke, and John came as solos.

“We should hit body shots!” Nico insists, obviously I back away from the conversation. I’m wearing a red lacy thong underneath my black leggings, I have a matching bralette lying in between my skin and Jack’s grey navy hoodie. Not to mention the fact I’m like the most insecure person on the room.

I step back into the couch that sits in Nicole’s and Bratter’s living room. I lay on my back lying flat across a piece of the white couch. “You gonna try?” John walks over to me. He sets his cup of beer onto the coffee table in the middle of the sitting area. He scooches over to me and lets me rest my head on his lap.

“No. I’m really tired.” I announce as I rest my hands and let John play with my hair. “You coming baby?” Jack walks over to us.

“no. I’m exhausted from our day today.” I responded to jacks question.

John and I have known eachother from our days in Pittsburg. I’ve followed him down to Jersey, he’s like a brother to me.

~

If he hurts you, y/n, I’ll make sure he’ll know not to do it again.

~

I mean that’s what John said the first time I told him that Jack and I are going out.

“Please! I want to body shot. I don’t what to do it with Nico, or Luke. Sure as hell not John.” Jack says as he points around the kitchen towards the guys. John picks my head up and walks over to the group of boys.

“Now it’s just you and me.” Jack whined. “You can say it. Just tell me if you don’t want to do it. Just letting you know, it’s gonna look wierd if we don’t do it.” Jack jolts at me. I sit up letting his head resting on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around his back and I lift my legs to cross them over his legs.

I kiss jacks cheek, “well if it makes you happy, I can get up there and do it.” I let go of jacks body and start over to the counter.

I hope ontop of the cold granite and lay flat on my back. Jack walks over and pushes through the crowd and rolls down my leggings. He reveals my belly button and he sets a small lemon ontop of my belly, he pushed my top up until you can see my bra.

Luke hands him a bag of leftover crushed jolly rancher mixed with sour patch kids smashed together. Jack sprinkled a little bit in between my breast. My cleavage slips jacks fingers inside letting him spread a bit. He sets a fireball in my mouth and he backs up, looking at his masterpiece from afar.

The party goes silent as people turn down the music and record. “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5-“

The count down starts for the new year! Jack walks up to me. He rolls his sleeves up from his own hoodie and sets his hat down. “-3-2-“

Jack takes the small lemon from my bellybutton and squeezes it into his mouth. He licks my abdomen from any crumbs that spilt on my torso. His warm wet tounge slips between my breasts and he takes all of the candy onto his tounge. The sourness hits him as he clings to me shoulder. With no hands, Jack takes the fireball from my mouth and takes the shot into his own.

He grabs me to pull me up. He walks over to where he set his beer last. He sips on his cooled drink and hands it to Nico.

“Yeah, goodluck trying tonight! She’s not letting you get anywhere near her. Especially at Bratters house.” Nico chirps at Jack. Jack smiles and walks away.

“I know, and I still am gonna try.” Jack holds his eye contact on my boobs as I pull down my hoodie from our fun event.

I laugh out, maybe I should let him try to buy me in. “Okay, go ahead.” I say and I hold jacks chin, and pull his mouth to my ear letting him whisper into me. He kisses my check before starting.

“I got like really- like really hard, I’m horny- I’m like REALLY , really turned on. Y/n please. Don’t make me beg.” Jack holds my left ass check in his right hand and he holds my back- right under my shoulder blades with his left hand.

He swaddles me in his hold for a minute as he prances around the room. We dance to the music, “it’s a new year anyway, we can celebrate!” Jack convinces me. He slides his right hand into my leggings discreetly and he pulls at my thong. He lets go as he lets it slap into my skin.

“Baby, I can’t wait any longer.” Jack pulls away from our hug that lasted like five-ish minutes. He runs towards Jesper.

“hey, um- I’m gonna need that guest room okay? And don’t let other people walk in, me and y/n are going through it. She’s really tired and I wanna stay so keep the music loud enough where you can’t hear us aguribg.” Jack sets our story up. Knowing Jesper, he already knows that Jack is trying to get in my pants. Jack walks around with his dick pressing against his pants whenever he sees me.

I whisper in his ear before he runs away with me, “seriously? Right here?” I judge him, he doesn’t care.

He takes my hand and runs into the room Jesper sets up for the party people- well Jack requested one, he always does this.

~

Jack throws me onto the bed, “legs.” He commands, I’m the only WAG that’s not wearing a sexy dress. I don’t need to impress anyone, Jack is the only one who’s seen me, and will probably be getting it.

I slides off my leggings and let him take off the rest of my clothes. He leaves my bra on, he takes my legs and sets them up. He moves my thing to the side. I’m already really wet.

“Wow, either you peed, or you really are horny.” Jack devilishly looks up from my pussy.

“No, you’re the one who’s horny, I just got off of my period.” I correct him. He’s never right, and I’m never wrong. “Fine, so that means your ovulating? Right?” Jack giggles as he stuffs a finger into my hole. He gets up licks his finger and locks the door.

He comes back and I’m already dry.

“You took to long.” I angrily reply to Jacks confused face. Jack jumps down onto his knees as I scorch up to the head of the bed. I hid a pillow between the wall and the headboard. I open my legs and throw off my underwear.

I unclip my bra and Jack tears it off my chest. He beds me down, my ass in his face, he lays down on his back as I sit ontop of this face. He moans as he takes me in. I start to jump on him. I feel like I’m going to cum, so I get up from him sucking inside of me, the suction form his mouth and my pussy breaks and I turn around.

Climbing into Jack, I face his hard dick, and he faces my very wet cunt again. “Again?” Jack gets annoyed. “Yes, you’re getting special treatment as well.” I pull onto his dick.

I play with his balls bad start taking his tip into my mouth. He lifts his hips up, the bdeige of his back lifted, my naked body lying on his bare skin. He licks my pussy out, cleaning every droplet of cum, and creating more. I do the same, except jack dumps everything at the same time.

“Excited, hey?” I tease him, Jack hits his nose into my bud. I realse more than ever and white juice spill onto jacks face. I get up finishing Jack.

~jacks pov~

Liftibg my hips, my shaft still in her mouth I thrust my dick into her throat, almost feeling her tonsils. I feel her tounge massaging every bit of my skin. My tip almost reaching to her stomach at this point I cum. I can feel her swallowing, impressive.

I pull a special on her as I hide my nose into her pussy, what a slut, a slut only for me.

She arrives and finishes on my face, dumping every ounce of fluid onto my face. I make her lick me clean and I lick her creases dry, leaving her actual holes wet, awaiting for her king to touch her.

“Baby, you can take it can’t you?” I ask her, out of breath already I stand up, I push her down onto her back, in missionary I fall into her. Spreading her legs I grab one and throw it over my shoulder.

Grabbing an extra pillow, I fold it stuffing it under her hips, allowing me to hit her G-Spot. She moan out, the music draining all of her cry’s. She ccleched her pussy onto my dick, closing all of the possible gaps. No air is filling her holes, noting but our cums bonding together, and my cock filling her vagina.

~ur pov~

He stuffs every inch of his cock into me. Jack talks me through it:

“Breathe for me.”

“Come for me, I can’t keep hitting you.”

“You’ve taken it before.”

“You’re such as little whore.”

“Slut”

“I love you.”

“You feel so good”

“You so tight.”

*moaning*

Jack is a horny person, and that’s his personality, I love him for it. He grips I to me and finally finishes his love for me. He pulls out belong up with the inside of his hoodie.

He slides his clothes back on and helps me up, he clings to my side as we head back to the party. My hair is frizzy, the perfect curls that I trwiled in a hot tool for hours are ruined, my shirt is crinkled. My makeup is messy, and I have red bits makes everywhere. Jack just seems out of breathe. But he’s a pretty boy, and he’ll get anything he wants.

We pretend like nothing happened. The party ended when John decided to body shot on Nico- not licking his abs, or taking the shot class for his mouth but performing a dance for us and eating a lemon with eachother. I drove John home and made sure he got to bed alright, by the time we got home Jack was sleeping and Luke had to help me carrru him in the house.

I guess there is no part two to our fun tonight.

[ceilingfan5]

thankpologies

(another @taznovembercelebration delight, for sick)

“I can do it,” Kravitz murmbles hoarsely from under about fifteen blankets. He stares blankly up at the dark ceiling. Taako wants to put him in his pocket and he isn’t even wearing pants yet. 

“Yeah?” Taako shuts off their fourth alarm. And the fifth one, you know, preemptively. “You sure there, bud?”

“I can do it,” he insists, like he’s trying to convince himself, too. “I’m……………………….good.”

“You’re good?” Taako’s trying not to laugh, he promises. Kravitz looks miserable. He looks like a wet sack of marbles left behind in a dead mall. What were those marbles for? Why are they wet? Is someone going to miss the marbles? Who can say. But they’re going in Taako’s pocket. 

“Sooooo good.” Kravitz tries to sit up, fails, and squinches his eyes shut, groaning. “I’m, good. I’m good. I’m good I’m good I’m good. I can do it.” 

“What if,” Taako says, “Hear me out.” 

“I’m not staying h— ome.” Kravitz swallows, once, twice, a third time, none of them looking less unpleasant. “Home,” he corrects. “No way. Got. Too much work to day. Do.”

“Hear me out though,” Taako says. “Perhaps, correct me if I’m wrong, the county coroner should maybe not look like a zombie.”

“I d- doh- hhh. Zombie.” Kravitz tries to sit up properly, and it makes Taako wince just to watch him. He unwraps another single cracker from the Freshstack ™ they were working through at two in the morning, and hands it to him. Kravitz nibbles on it like the world’s most pathetic mouse. Like if a mouse was divorced, and crying a little, and wet, like a sack of marbles. He gets about a third of the way through this monumental obstacle and then lets his hand flop down, and Taako is very normal and makes no crumb comments, because his boy is ailin’. 

Ooooh, is he ailin’. So ailin’ he’s from another planet. 

“Let’s write your boss an email, and then tuck you back in, buster.”

“Noooooo,” Kravitz whines. 

“My guy, my handsome criminal empire cohost, you get that you are making Taako be the voice of reason, yeah?”

Kravitz considers this. 

“Haven’t barfed yet,” he says, petulantly. 

“Sit up and put on your tie,” Taako challenges. 

There’s a long beat. 

“No?”

“That’s what I thought, asshole.” Taako reaches over and squeezes Kravitz’s hand with affection. He hands him his phone. “Let’s just, be brief. Dear boss, can’t come in today, so sorry. Love you, bye.” 

Kravitz drops his phone on his face. 

“Fuck,” he says, delayed. Taako covers a snort. Poor beast. He takes the phone and can’t cover a second one. “Oh, buddy.”

“Yeah?” Kravitz blinks, and rubs his general face zone. 

“Your beautiful schnozz hit send on this masterpiece?” Taako shows him, but not until after taking a screenshot and sending it to himself, for posterity and also social media crimes. 

To: queenra@nwcountyfr.fakegov

Subject: ow

DEAR HELLO Cannot’nt come to death today, I am maybe am not well enough to help bodies thankpologies K

–sent from my iPhone

“What’s wrong with it?” Kravitz says, grimacing. 

“Yeah, you’re not goin’ fuckin’ anywhere, beloved,” Taako decides. He hands him his damaged little sadboy cracker and kisses his forehead and tucks him in, and starts doing the Get Ready Shimmy. “I’ll be checking in on you on my lunch hour, unless you think I need to call in too, and take your sorrowful mouse ass to the hopsicle.” 

“Probaly not,” Kravitz cannot manage a whole lot of conviction. He nibbles the cracker. Wetly. “I’ll…watch the price is right?”

“You’ll sleep.”

“I’ll sleep,” Kravitz confirms, snuggling down, forgetting about the last third of the cracker right then and there. Given permission to burrow back into his pathetical little mousehole, his whole body relaxes, and somehow he manages to look even greyer. “I’ll sleep so many.” 

“So many.” Taako pats something in the vicinity of his shoulder. “Poor bastard. If you get me sick, I am going to kill you.”

“No promises,” Kravitz sighs, almost immediately dozing right back off. 

Shame Taako loves him so much. 

[id: a space themed game board with 15 spaces and a cat, fish, and "good worker" sticker on 1, 2, and 3 respectively]

[peachy-panic]

Not My Father’s Son

Shh it’s a surprise. Roughly 15 years after the beginning of Do No Harm. 

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, collar mention, fear of medicine, scar mention, bad family relationship

The kid perched on the twin bed can’t be much older than him, if not several years his junior. At his own twenty-one years, that would put this rescue right at the border of legal age for entry into the system. But after three years immersed in active rebellion work, he is no longer surprised by the ease with which WRU ignores their own rules.

He crouches into their line of sight, keeping a solid 3-foot distance. Their sharp, green eyes track his every move; wary, in direct contradiction to their body language. It’s still eerie to witness, no matter how many times he’s seen it in action—the way the ‘training’ embeds itself so deeply in each person’s psyche, so much so that they are able to convey a false openness, a mockery of calm, even in their most desperate moments of terror.

And this rescue is terrified.

“Hi,” he says, keeping his voice low and even. “I’m the shelter coordinator here. You can call me KT.”

Rule number one is no full names at intake. It’s not a pleasant thought, and certainly not one anyone in this work likes to think about, but the new rescues don’t always stick around. Sometimes they’re taken back by force, sometimes they are pulled back in by the demons those people planted in their heads. But once they’re back in WRU’s clutches, delicate information has a tendency to spill out. People have a tendency to get hurt.

The volunteers—the people who help run these shelters and perform under-the-table medical care and go on emergency extraction missions—know what kind of risks they’re signing up for when they dedicate their lives to the cause. But he has seen too much loss in his life at this point not to enforce every precaution.

“I heard you were having some trouble with the medicine,” he begins. But no matter how softly he makes the statement, their eyes lock up with renewed terror.

They dart their gaze to the small table beside the bed. On it is a plate, mostly empty save for a couple empty sandwich wrappers and crumbs, and—most notably—a small paper cup with 2 pills still inside.

“It’s okay,” he says calmly, showing his palms. “First thing you need to know is you don’t have to take anything that is given to you here. We are not like them.”

They never believe it the first hundred times, but it’s always worth stating.

“Second thing,” he continues, “Nothing we give you here will harm you. And I’ll prove it.”

He pulls a small bottle from his pocket and shakes 4 pills into his palm, then stretches out his hand. “Pick two,” he says. “Any two.”

Their eyes dart between the offering and his face, searching for any sign of a trap

“Go ahead. It’s okay.”

He patiently waits them out, as long as it takes, but they finally reach out and pluck two of the pills from his palm, careful not to let their fingers touch skin.

“Cool.” He nods then lifts his hand in a half-hearted cheers gesture. “Bottoms up.” He throws his head back and swallows the pills dry.

They are staring at him when he opens his eyes, and he offers a small smile.

“See? That would be one hell of a game of roulette, and I’m not that brave. Promise.”

It takes a few more seconds of hesitant thought, and he is prepared for the likely possibility that it won’t happen today. That’s okay—he’ll try again tomorrow. But then, without a word, they bring their hand to their mouth and pop the remaining two in. Tempering his own joy to the smallest smile of encouragement, he picks up their water cup and hands it over.

As they tilt their head back to swallow, his eyes dip unwittingly to the band of discolored skin around their neck; a tan line from the collar that would have been severed and destroyed before they came anywhere near the boundary of the shelter. Without having to look, he knows there will be another mark of newfound freedom in the form of a freshly stitched line just behind their ear.

For a moment, he is overtaken by a memory, seared in technicolor behind his eyelids: a piggyback ride in his childhood playroom. His forehead pressed against a soft bed of blond curls. His own little fingers coming up to trace a line of pink, raised skin he had never noticed before. One he could only see from that angle. “Sev, you have a cut.”

He blinks himself back to the present. The rescue is staring down at him with eyes that are eager to trust through layers of wariness.

“Thank you,” Kade whispers sincerely. “You did great.”

Two knocks behind him startle them both. He turns over his shoulder to see Jordan, the nurse practitioner on night shift, in the doorway.

“Torley,” he says. “Need to steal you for a minute.”

Kade sends a meaningful glance in the direction of the frightened rescue. “Is it urgent?”

Jordan’s deep brown eyes hold his for an extra moment. Kade has known him long enough, both professionally and personally, to read the answer there.

“Okay,” he breathes, turning back to the rescue. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to step out, but I am around if you need me, okay? Ask anyone to page me and I’ll head this way. Yeah?”

Hesitantly, the rescue nods. It will have to be enough for now.

The door has barely closed behind him when Jordan curls a soft hand around his elbow.

“Jesus, Kadence, you can’t do the pill trick every time. At this rate, your liver is going to fail by age 30.”

“Maybe I had a headache,” he counters. “Or maybe I’m making up for the rebellious teenage years I skipped out on.”

“You mean you’re not still in them?”

Kade smiles, leaning a little bit into his warm touch.

When they reach the end of the hallway, something in Jordan’s demeanor changes. The teasing smile slips from his face as he scrubs a palm over his mouth. He pulls Kade to the side, turning to face him and lowering his voice so that only the two of them can hear.

“What’s wrong?” Kade asks before he can explain. “Is it another emergency rescue? Two in one night?”

“No, it’s…”

“Jordan?”

He meets his eyes again, and by now Kade is well and truly nervous. “It’s your brother.” He drops the bomb, watching it land over Kade’s expression. “He called for you.”

Kade blinks, trying to wrap his head around those words in that order. He hasn’t spoken to Stephen in almost a year. Jordan knows that, along with most of the reasons why.

“Tell him to fuck off,” he says, though his voice is a little pinched.

“Kade—”

“No.” He shakes his head, starting to walk away.  “I… I have work to do, I don’t have time for… And he should know better, after that fucking disaster last Christmas—”

“Kade.” Jordan pulls him back, forcing him to pay attention. “He said it’s about your father.”

-

@whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply @cyborg0109 @whumplr-reader @pinkraindropsfell

[oggysonart]

PSA real quick: Don’t buy art advice

I’m not talking about art tutorials or like supporting a tier on someone’s patreon to get feedback or stuff like that, that’s a different thing. This is also not about going to art school.

What I am talking about is stuff like online courses and books that people sell on topics like secrets to growing your art instagram, making loads of passive money off your work, stuff like that. It’s fake.

I’ve seen a disturbing amount of them appear which is why I’m making this PSA. There is no secret to growing your art instagram or making passive money off your art or kickstarting your freelance carreer. If the tips are legit, it’s out there for free if you look for it. We are already talking about it because we’re already doing it. People making these courses and selling these books are only sharing stuff you can already google yourself. These people are rarely making their livings as artists themselves, instead they’re just doing the art world version of get rich quick schemes, they’re praying on your passions and selling you advice that is either already publicly available, unhelpful or even just false.

I’ll give you some advice for free, kay?

Improving your art:

First and foremost working on improving your art should always be priority and you can find tutorials on any subject matter for free pretty much anywhere if you just google stuff like “how to draw a cloud”. Your art is what people will want to buy/see so keep improving it and keep making it if your goals is to build a carreer or an audience, there is no way around it.

Growing your audience

Straight up just engage with whichever app/site you’re using. Post good art yourself, but be a cheerleader for others first and foremost. Post consistently, not constantly, use appropriate tags, talk about your work in your descriptions and engage with people who engage with you. That stuff is in your control, the rest is honestly just luck. For some people it takes a long time, for others it’s a faster progress, there is no secret here, no one knows how to please the algorithm, we’re all just throwing crumbs out and hoping it gets eaten. Bots and promo bots will do more harm than good and spamming other people’s accounts asking them to check you out or tagging someone in your art that’s completely unrelated to them is just annoying. Just chill and post your art and have fun. Remember that social media should ‘t be a popularity contest, it should be social.

Making money

There are so many ways! I don’t even know half the ways and it depends what you want to achieve really. You can make money selling commissions, you can try to get a job at some sort of company, at which there are many who’d want to employ artists, games, films, animation, marketing, marketing departments in companies that otherwise do completely unrelated stuff, I’ve heard of an artist working fulltime at a science lab. There is room for you, you just need to find your industry. You can also license your work which is where the passive income comes in and there are a bunch of ways to do this too google it. You can be an illustrator for books or magazines, you can be a cartoonist for a paper, you can do logos or t-shirt designs and you can work freelance as pretty much whatever you want. It’s not going to be easy finding these jobs and most people do several jobs at once. It takes time to build up clientell and find your opportunities but a good place to start is straight up just googling “how to license my art” or “how to become a concept artist” or just straight up “how to make money as an artist.” It’s all out here.

I don’t have all the answers at hand and I’m too busy looking for all the resources for you. I bet other people will happily provide links and stuff, so feel free to share resources! My point id just this:

Everything is out there for free, google it.

[shooting-love-arrows]

Gonna make ya some strawberry cupcakes… n’ some triple chocolate cookies… n’ also some chocolate dipped strawberries… ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Gonna give ya a bouquet of pink roses n’ tulips…

Gonna wear the cutest little pastel dresses and suits f’ you, and m’ never ever gonna take my nice new pearls off…! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

Gonna paint ya skin with m’ cherry red lipstick…!

And I’ll clean the house… and make us a pretty lil’ garden in the back n’ other stuff! ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

Gonna be your pretty pink housewife/husband! <3~

I love slippin’ inta a 1920’s housewife/husband headspace, feels so comfy n’ warm~ And I’d love ta have a house with ya! Gonna have a white picket fence n’ everythin’!

- ໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ꒱ྀི১₊˚⊹♡

Dear ໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ꒱ྀི১₊˚⊹♡,

My dearest house husband/wife, I'm going to eat all of your wonderful food that you've baked with love. I'm going to shower you in praises and affection, because I just know how much dedication you poured into those sweets. I'll kiss your cheeks while you squirm away and complain because I have some crumbs and leftover chocolate on my lips but I'll continue doing so because my dearest [pink] rose deserves it to know just how adored they are. I'm going to take the bouquet and put it in the vase. Then I'll place it on my nightstand as a reminder of your kind heart. In return, I'll give you camellias (love, affection), heliotrope (devotion and eternal love), because I'm bad at words but the flowers will speak for me. I'll admire you whenever I can, because you're so lovely I don't know what I did to deserve you. I'm going to buy you all the clothes you can ever dream of and I'll make sure to match outfits with you. My hearts will speed up whenever I'll notice you wearing those pearls I bought you as my first gift during our marriage life. I'll remember how hard I worked to buy them but I won't regret it one bit, because I'll remember how your face brightened up and you jumped in my arms. Now, when we're better off, I am ready to buy you more jewelry, yet you always choose to wear those pearls. I'll encourage you to mark me, because those pesky coworkers of mine just don't get the hint. Your pretty red lipstick will stick out like a sore thumb but I won't care, because it's a reminder of you and love. I'll always sigh in relief when I return to our shared house. The familiar smell of your perfume and cleaning detergents will mix together nicely, creating the familiar and comforting smell of our home. Like always, everything is sparkly, clean and organized. But I'll get sad when I don't see you anywhere near. That's when I know you're in the garden, planting those flower seeds I have bought you earlier this week. You wanted them in the garden for some time, yet you just couldn't get to do it. That's when I'll walk to the backyard and silently admire you planting those seeds in the soil. And I'll know: I'm falling in love with you all over again. P.S I hope I didn't go overboard with my monologue, my dearest house husband/wife. I just melted when I read what you wrote to me. Of course, the house will be taken right out of your dreams. You're free to decorate it however you want <3 P.S.S Whatever makes you feel comfortable, my darling [pink] rose. Your accent is endearing. P.S.S.S I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable...Please let me know.

@shooting-love-arrows

[tazzertopia]

my thoughts on the hxh phantom rouge movie

pls do not take this too seriously i just wanna talk about things i noticed when watching it while sleep deprived last night 😊👍😊👍

🚨YAPPER ALERT🚨

-ik kurapika defo would’ve mentioned him at some point to gon and killua but how the fuck did they recognise (puppet) uvogin… like no hesitation….. did kurapika show them a picture or what

-why was kurapika so badly dumbed down and ooc in the movie it actually pissed me off (not really) like one of the main plot points is that the puppet guy (insufferable prick who I’ll get to later) used dead pairo to steal kurapika’s eyes but the issue is that he used pairo’s child self to lure him in like…. 🤨 based on the flashbacks i’m assuming kurapika was around 11-12 when the kurta clan massacre happened and pairo was probably either the same age or a year or two younger (i am not looking this up due to i can’t be bothered) so how the fuck did kurapika not question why his supposedly alive friend hadn’t aged a day in about five years

-especially as kurapika is mostly pretty level headed and logical so how would he not figure that out

-the timeline was confusing as hell to me bc based on uvo and pakunoda being dead in the movie and killua still having illumi’s manipulation needle i’d assume it’s anywhere between the end of the york new arc to the end of the greed island arc but thanks to the power scaling it’s really hard to tell ????????? like somehow gon and killua were basically unscathed after getting directly hit by uvo (the physically strongest member of the troupe) but basically just attacked by combining their nen and overall didn’t seem that strong like how strong are they meant to be by this point

-the townspeople in this movie are coming out on top in the idgaf war because the way none of them reacted to uvo demolishing a hospital… like no commotion. NADA. they just minded their business the entire movie (inspirational tbh)

-but also why was the hospital so desolate and why was kurapika the only one there

-the way only gon, killua and the blonde girl reacted to uvo fucking up the hospital while kurapika remained unbothered

-finally gonna talk about that ugly mf omokage

-he looks like a toxic love interest from an early 2000s dark fantasy harem anime

-like why was he in a completely different art style

-his ability soul doll or whatever it’s called is stupid op bc you’re telling me he can just create puppets of anyone he wants with their exact strength just like that ???????

-also what is the criteria for creating the puppets bc i swear they never explain how he’s able to create them

-like does he need their hair or what

-still confused on how kurapika used chain jail on him considering he isn’t a spider anymore (no clue how the limitations to his power were so flexible) #plotconvenience

-illumi looked uglier than usual in this movie especially at the beginning when he killed those kids

-hisoka’s hair being more orange than red also pissed me off

-we got one shalnark line in the movie tho 😍😍😍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍 crumbs

-speaking of crumbs for a movie about the phantom troupe they had barely any screen time

-like barely even five minutes 💔

-lastly just wanna say how fuxking ugly the blonde girl’s puppet was i hate it so much

-lastly lastly ik i posted this already but the cgi fish made me giggle bc they look so out of place (ik i couldn’t do any better i just found them funny tee hee)

that’s it hope you enjoyed reading my complaints about a cash-grab anime movie 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕😜😜😜😜 can’t wait to watch the last mission tonight so i can complain about it tomorrow 💙 that’s what you get when you’re desperate for hxh content lols but like i said pls don’t take this too seriously okay mwah xoxoxo

[unhingedselfships]

LINK TO GAME

🌍Adventurecore🌎 ~ If you could take your F/O anywhere in real life, where would you take them?

Literally anywhere. I would go anywhere with this man, as long as I could be with him.

🛍️Barbiecore🛍️ ~ Show us your favorite outfit that your F/O has worn!

I have posts about this already lol.

🖕Bastardcore🖕 ~ Are there any “flaws” of your F/O that you find endearing?

Uh. I really shouldn’t like that he’s a man-child, highly manipulative, serial killer with mommy(?) issues, but here we are.

🌳Cabincore🌳 ~ You and your F/O are enjoying a weekend in nature. How do you spend it?

Attempting to camp! Then giving up, renting a cabin, and enjoying nice hikes that end with us in a very pleasant actual bed.

📖Dazecore📖 ~ What would you say is your F/O’s biggest passion (outside of you, of course 🥰)?

Murder? I’m kidding. Guns, knives, cooking. Probably.

😱Expressionism😱 ~ Describe to us exactly how your F/O makes you feel! Or, for a twist, describe how you make your F/O feel! Or do both!

Oh lort its a lot. Tired, frustrated, annoyed, happy, content, safe, comfortable, satisfied. He exhausts me but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.

I couldn’t really speak for Kenshi, except I know he needs me too, and that he is… a bit conflicted, about the nature of our relationship. But then, feelings in general confuse him so.

🖤Femme Fatale🖤 ~ What, in your opinion, is your F/O’s greatest achievement?

Look at all that emotional and character growth!

🔍Film Noir🔍 ~ Are there any questions about your F/O that you’d like to see their source answer?

So many. I’m working on wearing the creator down!

🪨Groundcore🪨 ~ What would your F/O do if you became a worm?

Bruh idefk. Let me ask.

Apparently, per Word of Creator, in character, he would step on me and crush me. Now we know how he really feels lmfao.

📝Hipness Purgatory📝 ~ If your F/O drew you, how would it turn out?

… I actually know nothing of the man’s art skills. I’ll need to investigate. Will report back.

Ok so update! He has no art skills but he does have steady hands. So it would be a vaguely Kimi-ish human shape with a "sorry" speech bubble because she apologizes all the time.

💾Internet Academia💾 ~ How did you discover your F/O or their source?

I stopped being intimidated by Majimemegoro and interacted and then BAM. Shit happened.

🚎Joyride🚎 ~ How would a road trip with your F/O, friends/associates, and you go?

Depends on which friends/associates. But probably not too terribly? Probably? Kenshi loves to drive, Kimi loves to ride. They'll trade aux/Bluetooth control. Lots of pee breaks for Kimi that he'll pretend to be annoyed about. So many snacks. They'll definitely take a rental so she doesn't get crumbs in his car.

🪁Kidcore🪁 ~ Tell us about the earliest memory you can remember with your F/O!

Meeting him at a Tojo Clan party! Incidentally it was my introduction to basically everyone. He was one of a very few that spoke English and the only one not being an asshole to me!

(Childhood Friends AU, we meet when I find him crying in the corner of a park and I drag him home with me! What a cutie!)

🎧Lo-Fi🎧 ~ Let’s say your F/O is up late working on something. How do you support them, or how do you get them to go to bed?

Depends on how focused he is but generally he can be coaxed into bed with cuddles. Otherwise I keep him stocked in smokes, snacks, and water. He handles his own alcohol. I miiiiight bring him coffee. Maybe.

🎮Nintencore🎮 ~ Create a Pokémon team for your F/O!

This one’s tough. Do I make a team I think actually represents him, or one he would have? I’ll try for both. Majimeme can weigh in perhaps. I can say there would be absolutely NO dog types lmfao.

(Should I do a team for Kimi too?)

Team One

Muk - reference to the environmental impact of the factories Sneasel - a sneaky ambush type attacker Murkrow - bearer of misfortune Mimikyu - tell me this isn’t Kadokura in pokemon form. lonely, but watch out! Porygon-Z - science! technology! the future! Garbodor - majimemegoro insists he’s trash so….

Team Two

Sudowoodo - trees! nature! conservation! Ursaring - mountain village vibes, Hokkaido energy Abomasnow - Hokkaido, snow, do I need to explain? Sawsbuck - more nature shit Gothita - he has no idea what this thing is but it’s cute and it makes Mio happy so whatever Pangoro - “Kimberly this feels racist” “hush it markets well”

🐕Petcore🐕 ~ What animal reminds you of your F/O?

He’s known as a Coyote. He often acts a bit like a cat. Is there an intersection to be found there?

🍷Red Academia🍷 ~ What’s your favorite fun-fact about your F/O?

SPOILERS hehe

💤Sleepycore💤 ~ What is it like going to bed with your F/O? How do they sleep?

He’s clingy. Bad nights he takes a ton of pills and good luck waking his ass. Worst nights, night terrors, although those are pretty rare.

[ina-nis]

(A letter to you, that I will never send)

I really want to move on, I need to. I’ve been anchored long enough, hurting for long enough over something that was hopeless from the start. I knew there was no place for me, not in any way that would make me feel safe, instead... I felt like I had to change my life for you while, to you, it seemed like a nuisance to do the same. I understand, I really do. It’s hard to change when your life already works. Why would you turn it upside down and bring chaos into your peaceful existence? Even if it was not perfect or stress-free, it was familiar, and oh, how I understand the comfort of the familiar... but I tried because I felt like it was worth it. I guess I just tried my hardest to overlook how incompatible we were but it got more and more apparent. Understandably, I put most (if not all) of the blame on my shoulders: I hurt you too much, I pushed you too far, I kept demanding and asking for things you couldn’t possibly give while I offered all of myself and you took it. I felt used and discarded, but so did you. The difference is that I’ve been alone from the start, and you had the comfort of another person sleeping besides you every night. Obviously, I could never compete against that, and had no intention of meddling either, so I pulled away and waited, but nothing changed. I was the one that would have to change and fit, and I didn’t. I’m glad I didn’t. I held onto the joy the best I could, I held onto the happy moments and all the fun I felt, but I couldn’t get rid of my growing resentment. I’m really sorry I wasn’t capable of staying and being a good friend, only friends. I’m sorry I shoved your own relationship in your face when I wanted to hurt you, as if that would make me any less alone or make you want me any more. In the end, you walked away, like all others did - even though you promised me you’d not leave, I knew that was not a promise anyone could keep, but it made me feel warm either way - I don’t blame you, I don’t blame any of them. It’s all my fault, but I’m not a victim here, nor are you. I’m not crying over “what ifs” or begging anyone to stay, that takes nowhere and I’m worth much more than crumbs of affection people may want to give me. You have so much love to give? I hope you’ll find other partners, hopefully not anywhere as traumatized and ill as me, and I hope I, too, can find someone to have me all for themselves and vice-versa. If not, I hope I can at least, finally, find some closure and turn the page like I have done so many times before. It’s always different, isn’t it? This time I let someone so close to my heart, I was so vulnerable and I confided so much. I can’t help but wonder if you still think about me, or obsess over me, like I do over you even though we don’t talk anymore. But I guess I already know the answer, and it makes me quite sad, I could never win against your job, against your partner, and all other aspects of your life you kept from me. Even though we spoke so much all the time, everyday, I don’t think I’ve felt like a priority, and that feeling only got worse over time... I really wish you all the best. I hope you’ll manage to maybe work less hours or find a less demanding/stressful job, I hope you manage to heal your current relationship if that’s what you want, I hope you can find familiarity and stability and that everything you want in life comes true eventually. I never really stopped loving you and, I guess, that’s what destroyed this relationship we built... but it was like I told you: it wouldn’t matter how many times I fell out of love, it would happen again over and over because it was you. You never denied my love directly, you never confronted it, you never told me “no”, so that was the recipe for disaster, wasn’t it? But that’s on me, not your fault. You owe me nothing and I’m glad you were the one to walk away. I’ll respect you and I’ll stay away from you. I will not check on you, I’ll make an effort to keep busy and without thoughts of you. I’ll grief what I need to, and I’ll find closure all on my own. It’s going to be okay, I’m sure. I hope we never meet again. Thank you. Farewell.

[beartrice-inn-unnir]

Bookworm ask: 7, 15, 19

7. are you a writer?

My feelings are surprisingly complicated at this question.

On the one hand, yes, absolutely. I have written essays (for school and fun), translations, theses, professional comms work, fiction, poetry, and fanfic.

On the other hand, I don’t think I practice properly. I don’t write with the intention of pushing myself, of getting better or trying new things. I was turning this over in my mind while listening to the delightful 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries and looked up as Lady Catherine said: “If I ever learnt, I would be a true proficient.” And that’s my main fear with calling myself a writer. That by saying it, I absolve myself of the need to practice. I write, but I need to take it as an action, not an identity, or else I’ll take it for granted.

15. can you read anywhere? moving vehicle? rollercoaster?

I’m pretty comfortable reading anywhere. So far I’ve been lucky enough to never get motion sick while reading in cars, buses, boats, trains, etc. In 2020 I spent some of the summer wandering around my very hilly neighborhood with my nose in a book and managed to never trip on my face and go sprawling on the sidewalks, which I’m still pretty proud of.

19. how well do you take care of your books?

I try to take good care of them - but I also will fill any space I am given with books on floors and tables. The only books I write in or fold pages in are poetry books, because each folded page is like a little arrow to myself later of what spoke to me first. I do, however, use terrible things as bookmarks. Mugs of tea, plates covered in crumbs, eyeglasses, cell phones, headphones (hmm where are my headphones), other books, pens, stuffed animals, packs of post-its. If it can fit in a book, it might end up in a book.

[karebear923]

Vice Versa rewatch ep 9

Episode 9 is Midnight Black! Black has a lot of negative connotations but in this ep I think it has to do with fear of the unknown, of what’s to come. Luckily Puen and Talay can overcome this fear together.

I remember being like “oh so we’re good” when I first saw Mek say he didn’t actually have a crush on Tess and he was just messing with them. Problem solved, no drama here lol 😄

Ohhh my heart 🥹

OHHHHH MY HEART!!! 😭

Hehehe 🤭 Puen being even clingier now that they’re together! Pouting that they couldn’t sit together at the movies but then holding Talay’s hand in the popcorn bowl, wanting to hold Talay while they sleep at night, acting out what he would do to Talay if he was the pillow 😄 never change Puen, stay horny for your mans! 😉

DOCTOR MIX!!! Another star I didn’t know at first watch but am happy to see now!! Wow he’s short! Or are AouBoom just real tall? Also Fuse’s face when he saw him, same bro lol.

(I googled it and it’s AouBoom who are real tall)

My AouFuse crumbs!!

Started off laughing that you have to stare at the candles until they’re put out, ended up crying cause Puen’s living his best life but it’s not really his life and he’ll have to give it up to go back to his own reality without the family and friends he’s grown to love 😭

But Talay doesn’t get him cause he’s got his own life waiting for him in their universe and he was happy there and about to achieve his dreams.

And it’s also about what’s right and wrong and I know that it’s wrong to take someone else’s life from them, I get that.

But I also sympathize so much with Puen here because he’s never had a happy life so of course he wants to keep it. Sometimes doing what’s right and doing what makes you happy are two opposing things and it’s so hard to do what’s right for everyone else when it ends up hurting you but that’s the lesson Puen has to learn and I’ve always supported his journey and struggles.

I remember people were condemning him for wanting to stay in the new universe but I have always been a Puen defender and I’ll fight anyone who tries to say he was messed up for wanting this! 😤

KITA ONCE AGAIN BEING THE BEST VOICE OF REASON!!! Cause Talay also has to learn to see Puen’s perspective. And I love that this show did that! It’s not just about righteousness and how dare Puen want to stay, it’s about Talay seeing where he’s coming from and why he feels that way. Talay’s talk with Pang about Puen’s life also helps him understand him more.

And then Talay promises Puen that his life won’t be the same when he goes back cause now he has someone who will care for him and share his life with him 🥹❤️ I’m in love with their love!!

Friend Credits celebrating their anniversary and sharing gifts with each other ☺️ and Puen being like “yeah I’m absolutely showing favoritism here” when he gave Talay two gifts 🤭

PUEN FIGURED OUT HIS CONNECTION TO TALAY!!! He had his epiphany! He knows who Talay is in their world! His memory is amazing cause I forget everything and I’d definitely be like “what did the guy who gave me the alpaca hat look like again?” 😅

Talay’s biggest fear is being left behind but Puen assures him that they’ll find each other again in their world! 🥹

Then they both confess that they’re falling in love with each other! 🤧❤️

BONUS:

We get out first Lays™️ Anywhere With You moment! I was never bothered by the product placements and I loved these little extra scenes that we got! ☺️ they’re just cute fun flirty scenes! Someone pass me a bag of chips! I’m sat for this!

[sunshine-overload]

[BSTS] Gui Onsen Staff 5* Card Story

Was initially just gonna do the first chapter, but well, here we are. Gui development crumbs love to see it 🙏 (note: Starless are working as temporary staff at the ryokan they’re staying at in exchange for their stay being free. The show that they’re performing is based on ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ a play by Shakespeare.)

chapter 1 -ryokan staff kitchen-

gui: This is the kitchen?

nekome: Oh, you were assigned to work in the kitchen too then Gui? Glad to be working with you~

gui: What should I do?

nekome: For now they want us to peel the potatoes and prep them for cooking. I can’t seem to find a peeler anywhere though, have you used a knife before Gui?

gui: Yes. Let’s get to work, lend me a knife.

-time pass-

nekome: Wow, you’re skilled with your hands.

gui: It’s easier to peel potatoes by moving the vegetable itself instead of the knife. That’s what Kongou taught me.

nekome: That so~ I’m kinda surprised.

gui: Surprised…? By me?

nekome: I mean, in the past you would just sit spaced out in the corner of the store, no matter what anyone said to you. But now, you’re someone that can cook, as well as perform on stage. What motivated you to do so?

gui: I was told to take the stage by Kei. Kei is acting as a substitute for my Master, so I must obey his orders.

nekome: Hmm, your Master’s substitute huh. So he instructed you to cook as well?

gui: No, the person that taught me how to cook is Kongou.

nekome: What I meant was, for what reason did you learn to cook?

gui: Reason… I want to expand the amount of skills I have. Yakou told me that if I learn to do different things, I’ll understand more about the world. There’s many things I do not understand, so I’m expanding the amount of things I can do.

nekome: So it’s you yourself that decided to learn how to cook.

gui: I decided… myself?

nekome: You’ve grown a lot as a person, is what I’m trying to say.

gui: Grown… is that a good thing?

nekome: Yeah? I mean you know how to do more things now right?

gui: I still can’t do enough. I haven’t learnt to make anything other than fried rice.

nekome: In that case, why don’t I teach you how to make something new? Um, let’s see… what would be good…

-time pass-

gui: What soup is this?

nekome: It’s miso soup, the comfort food of japanese people. It’s looking good, could it be thanks to my teaching methods?

gui: What dish did you make, Nekome?

nekome: This is kamameshi* Want to try making it after? The instructions are in the manual so I’m sure you’ll manage.

gui: Yeah. Miso soup and kamameshi. I have two more dishes that I’m able to make now.

-

*Kamameshi - Kamameshi is a Japanese rice dish made by boiling seasonal ingredients, typically including fish or chicken, with rice grains. It’s cooked in an iron pot called a kama.

—

chapter 2 -ryokan lobby area-

yoshino: Thank you for sitting in on our voice training, Saki-san.

saki: No problem, I enjoyed getting to hear both of your singing voices.

maica: I only asked you to listen for a little bit but we ended up going overtime into lunch, I’m sorry about that. You must be hungry, let’s go to the kitchen and have them whip up a meal for us.

saki: Are you sure it’s ok for me to come with you?

yoshino: Of course, alright, let’s go.

-kitchen-

maica: Nekome, sorry for the trouble, but could we have three meals?

nekome: Sure thing~ As long as it’s something simple. Were you two singers rehearsing together? You really get along well.

yoshino: We were singing together and working out the song while Saki-san listened in, before we knew it it had gotten this late.

nekome: Why don’t we rehearse together too Gui? We’re playing the same role after all.

gui: No.

nekome: Ah, shot right down.

maica: You and Gui both play the role of Enobarbus, however your portrayal of him is completely different so I don’t see the point in you two rehearsing together.

yoshino: Gui’s Enobarbus is a quiet lieutenant that would follow Antony to the ends of the earth.

nekome: He seriously has the vibe of a devoted lieutenant, there’s no way you’d see him betraying Antony.

maica: Isn't the fact your Enobarbus betrays Antony at the drop of a hat strange too?

nekome: No? I mean, isn’t my version the one that’s closer to the source material?

gui: Does that mean my Enobarbus is incorrect?

saki: No, neither one is incorrect.

maica: It’s normal for our shows to adapt the source material differently. Especially so for this show, since you’re both playing the same role, there should be differences between our shows.

gui: Nekome had always been serving Rindou (Antony), however in the end he double crosses him. Why do you betray him, Nekome?

nekome: Mm~ I mean it’s cause that’s what happens in the original story but… The way I see it is that it’s because Enobarbus had something so important to him, that not wanting to give it up outweighed his loyalty to Antony. Something like that.

gui: Something he didn’t want to give up…?

nekome: What is something that no matter what, you wouldn’t want to be taken away from you? Something that you value above all else.

gui: Right now, it’s protecting Saki.

nekome: Then, if your Master were to suddenly appear right now and order you to leave Starless and follow them, what would you do?

gui: If that it what Master’s orders are then—

nekome: Even if it meant abandoning the stage and your duty to protect Saki-chan? Even then, would you still obey?

gui: I… (troubled expression) …….?

nekome: See? There are times when multiple things you don’t want to let go of overlap, and you have no choice but to prioritise one over the other. Even knowing that you’ll come to regret it later either way, you still have no choice but to pick one.

saki: (I wonder if Nekome-san is speaking from experience…?)

gui: …….. (sad expression)

yoshino: What are you…

nekome: Well anyways, I’m just saying that it’s a way to think about it. Here you go, sorry for the wait on the food!

—

chapter 3 -ryokan staff kitchen-

ginsei: Menou, c’mon, walk on your own two legs already.

menou: I’d love to be able to, but there’s no strength in them.

nekome: What’s wrong? Are you unwell? If so then I’m sorry but this isn’t the hospital.

ginsei: Well, it is to do with his condition. It appears Menou hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning.

menou: I was in a loop of reading the screenplay and visiting the onsen, I completely forgot about food.

ginsei: I found him collapsed in the hallway, so I dragged him here. Could you make something for him to eat?

nekome: Mm~ I can whip up something like fried rice right away.

ginsei: Uu… your fried rice huh….

nekome: I won’t make extra crunchy fried rice like that again don’t worry.

ginsei: I know… it’s just burned into my brain. Well, I’ll leave it to you then.

menou: I’d rather be in the onsen than here eating though.

ginsei: I’m telling you, eat something first. You’ll drown in the bath otherwise. On that note, you’ve been enjoying yourself with our show and the baths, but have you properly been doing your assigned job too?

menou: Job? Oh that, well, yeah, when I feel like it.

ginsei: …I’ll have to check later.

nekome: My, you two really haven’t changed at all.

ginsei: For some reason I don’t like the way you said that.

menou: You haven’t changed either Nekome. You’re the same as when you were back at the old Starless. Your Enobarbus has a very Nekome like touch to him.

nekome: That so?

menou: Playing up to Antony to gain his trust, while also secretly making light of it. Showing him the sincere face of a devout lieutenant but also being able to betray him without wavering. You’ve really captured those characteristics of the character well with your directing, Ginsei. Amazing, amazing.

ginsei: Is that supposed to be a compliment?

menou: Yes, of course. Though Enobarbus dying in such a way that you can’t tell if it was a suicide or an accident, seemingly not regretting a thing… Not even knowing if he truly died or not in the end, it was you who came up with that conclusion wasn’t it, Nekome?

nekome: Bingo~ I’m not a fan of things that are too easy to figure out. Besides, I’m the kind of person who believes you shouldn’t look back on your past.

menou: You mean you’re doing everything you can for the sake of the future then huh. That seems like a path that’s destined for ruin.

nekome: Hm? Did you change what you were talking about halfway through there?

menou: Huh? Everything I’ve said has been about Enobarbus.

nekome: Right. You truly never change, Menou. Alright, order up, here’s your two serves of fried rice.

ginsei: What? I never said I wanted any though….

—

chapter 4 -backstage-

gui: Saki.

saki: Oh, Gui-san, is something the matter? Your show is almost about to begin.

gui: I have something to report to you.

saki: Report?

gui: If my Master were to return right now, and order me to leave Starless… I would ask them if I could wait until your safety has been guaranteed first.

saki: Isn’t that the theoretical situation that Nekome-san came up with? Don’t tell me, have you been thinking about it ever since?

gui: Yeah. Protecting you is my highest priority. So, until your safety can be confirmed, I will not leave your side. I will keep you safe, no matter what happens. That’s what I wanted to report to you.

saki: Is that so, even though it’s right before your performance… Thank you very much.

gui: ……. I don’t get it.

saki: Hm?

gui: You or Master’s orders… I couldn’t answer right away which I would choose. Master is my master. You are my… what exactly?

saki: Gui-san…

gui: No matter how much I think about it I can’t figure it out. But if you were to get hurt and be sad, I wouldn’t like it. And if you weren’t here with me, I wouldn’t like that either. Why?

-bloomed cg, gui softly smiling on stage

gui: I’m sure I’ll be able to find the answer if I continue to try new things. So I will keep doing so. One day, when I’m able to figure out what it is you are to me… I’ll come and report to you again.

saki: Yes, of course, I’ll be waiting.

gui: Yeah, please wait for me. I’ll make sure tonight’s show goes well too, so watch me closely.

—end

*ryokan - a type of traditional Japanese inn that typically features tatami-matted rooms, communal baths, and other public areas where visitors may wear yukata.

[c-is-for-circinate]

For a long, large part of my life, being queer in a media landscape--finding queerness in a media landscape--has meant theft.

I'm a Fandom Old, somehow, these days, older than most and younger than some, in that way that's grown associated with grumpy crotchetyness and shotguns on porches and back in my day, we had to wade through our Yahoo Groups mailing lists uphill both ways, boring and irrelevant anecdotes from Back In Those Days when homophobia clearly worked differently than it does now, probably because we weren't trying hard enough. I've seen a lot of stories through the years. I've read a lot of fanfic. (More days than not, for the past twenty years. I've read a lot of fanfic.)

When people my age start groaning and sighing at conversations about representation and queerbaiting, when we roll our eyes and drag all the old war stories out again in the face of AO3 is terrible and Not Good Enough, so often what we say is: you Young Folks Today have no idea how hard, how scary, how limiting it was to be queer anywhere Back In Those Days. Including online, maybe especially online, including in a media landscape that hated us so much more than any one you've ever known. And that is true. Always and everywhere, again and again, it's true, we remember, it's true.

We don't talk so much about the joy of it.

Online fan spaces were my very first queer communities, ever. I was thirteen, I was fourteen, I was fifteen--I was a lonely, over-precocious "gifted kid" two years too young for my grade level in an all-girls' Catholic school in the suburbs--I lived in a world where gay people were a rumor and an insult and a news story about murder. I was straight, of course, obviously, because real people were straight and anyway I was weird enough already--I couldn't be two things strange, couldn't be gay too, but--well, I could read the stories. I could feel things about that. I would have those stories to help me, a few years later, when I knew I couldn't call myself straight any more.

And those stories were theft. There was never any doubt about that. We wrote disclaimers at the top of every fic, with the specter of Anne Rice's lawyers around every corner. We hid in back-corners of the internet, places you could only find through a link from a link from a link on somebody else's recs page, being grateful for the tiny single-fandom archives when you found them, grateful for the webrings where they existed. It was theft, all of it, the stories about characters we did not own, the videotaped episodes on your best friend's VHS player, one single episode pulled off of Limewire over the course of three days.

It was theft, we knew, to even try and find ourselves in these stories to begin with. How many fics did I read in those days about two men who'd always been straight, except for each other, in this one case, when love was stronger than sexual orientation? We stole our characters away from the heterosexual lives they were destined to have. We stole them away from writers and producers and TV networks who work overtime to shower them in Babes of the Week, to pretend that queerness was never even an option. This wasn't given to us. This wasn't meant for us. This wasn't ours to have, ever, ever in the first place. But we took it anyway.

And oh, my friends, it was glorious.

We took it. We stole. And again and again, for years and years and years, we turned that theft into an art. We looked for every opening, every crack in every sidewalk where a little sprout of queerness might grow, and we claimed it for our own and we grew whole gardens. We grew so sly and so skilled with it, learning to spot the hints of oh, this could be slashy in every new show and movie to come our way. Do you see how they left these character dynamics here, unattended on the table? How ripe they are for the pocketing. Here, I'll help you carry them. We'll make off with these so-called straight boys, and we only have to look back if somebody sets out another scene we want for our own.

We were thieves, all of us, and that was fine and that was fair, because to exist as queer in the world was theft to begin with. Stolen time, stolen moments--grand larceny of the institution of marriage, breaking and entering to rob my mother's hopes for grandchildren. Every shoplifted glance at the wrong person in the locker room (and it didn't matter if we never peeked, never dared, they called us out on it anyway). Every character in every fic whose queerness became a crime against this ex-wife, that new love interest. Every time we dared steal ourselves away from the good straight partners we didn't want to date.

And: we built ourselves a den, we thieves, wallpapered in stolen images and filled to the brim with all the words we'd written ourselves. We built ourselves a home, and we filled it with joy. Every vid and art and fic, every ship, every squee. Over and over, every straight boy protagonist who abandoned all womankind for just this one exception with his straight boy protagonist partner found gay orgasms and true love at the end.

Over and over, we said: this isn't ours, this isn't meant to be ours, you did not give this to us--but we are taking it anyway. We will burglarize you for building blocks and build ourselves a palace. These stories and this place in the world is not for us, but we exist, and you can't stop us. It's ours now, full of color and noise, a thousand peoples' ideas mosaic'ed together in celebration. We made this, and it will never be just yours again. You won't ever truly get it back, no matter how many lawyers you send, not completely. We keep what we steal.

.

Things shifted over time, of course. That's good. That's to be celebrated. Nobody should have to steal to survive. It should not be a crime, should not feel like a crime, to find yourself and your space in the world.

There were always content creators who could slip a little wink in when they laid out their wares, oh what's this over here, silly me leaving this unattended where anybody could grab it, of course there might be more over by the side door if you come around the alleyway (but if anybody asks, you didn't get this from ME). We all watched Xena marry Gabrielle, in body language and between the lines. We sat around and traded theories and rumors about whether the people writing Due South knew what they were doing when they sent their buddy cops off into the frozen north alone together at the end of the show, if they'd done it on purpose, if they knew. But over the years, slowly, thankfully, the winks became less sly.

A teenage boy put his hand on another teenage boy's hand and said, you move me, and they kissed on network TV, in a prime-time show, on FOX, and the world didn't burn down. Here and there, where they wanted to, where they could without getting caught by their bosses and managers, content creators stopped subtly nudging people around the back door and started saying, "Here. This is on offer here too, on purpose. You get to have this, too."

And of course, of course that came with a whole host of problems too. Slide around to the back door but you didn't get this from me turned into it's an item on our special menu, totally legit, you've just got to ask because the boss throws a fit if we put it out front. Shopkeepers and content creators started advertising on the sly, come buy your fix here!, hiding the fine print that says you still have to take what you've purchased home and rebuild it with your semi-legal IKEA hacks. Maybe they'll consider listing that Destiel or Sterek as a full-service menu item next year. Is that Crowley/Aziraphale the real thing or is it lite?

And those problems are real and the conversations are worth having, and it's absolutely fair to be frustrated that you can't find the ship you want on sale in anything like your color and size in a vast media landscape packed full of discount hetships and fast-fashion m/f. It's fair to be angry. It's fair to be frustrated. Queerbait is a word that exists for a reason.

There's a part of me that hurts, though, every time the topic comes up. It's a confusing, bad-mannered part of me, but it's still very real. And it's not because I'm fawning for crumbs, trying to be the Good, Non-Threatening Gay. It's not that I'm scared and traumatized by the thought of what might happen if we dare raise our voices and ask for attention. (Well. Not mostly. I'll always remember being quiet and scared and fifteen, but it's been a long two decades since then. I know how to ask for a hell of a lot more now.)

It's because I remember that cozy, plush-wallpapered den of joyful thieves. I remember you keep what you steal.

Every single time--every time--when a story I love sets a couple of characters out on a low, unguarded table, perfectly placed to be pilfered on the sly and taken home and smushed together like a couple of dolls, my very first thought is always, always joy. Always, that instinct says, yay! Says, this is ours now. As soon as I go home and crawl into that pillow-fort den, my instincts say, I will surely find people already at work combing through spoils and finding new ways to combine them, new ways to make them our own. I know there's fic for that. I've already seen fic for that, and I wasn't really interested last time, but the new store display's got my brain churning, and I can't wait to see what the crew back at the hideout does with this.

Every time, that's where my brain goes. And oh, when I realize the display's put out on purpose, that somebody snuck in a legitimate special menu item, when the proprietor gives me the nod and wink and says, you don't have to come around the side, I know it's not much but here--there is so much joy and relief and hope in me from that! Oh, what we can make with these beautiful building blocks. Oh what a story we can craft from the pieces. Oh, the things we can cobble together. Look at that, this one's a little skimpy on parts but we can supplement it, this one's got a whole outline we can fill in however we want. This one technically comes semi-preassembled, and that's boring as shit and a pain to take back apart, but that's fine, we'll manage. We're artists and thieves. I bet someone's pulling out the AU saw to cut it to pieces already.

And then I get back to our den, which has moved addresses a dozen times over the years and mostly hangs out on Tumblr now (and the roof leaks and the landlord's sketchy as fuck but at least they don't charge rent, and we've made worse places our own). And I show up, ready for joy--ready for a dozen other people who saw that low-hanging fruit on that unguarded table, who got the nod and wink about the special menu item, who're ready to get so excited about this newest haul. Did you see what we picked up? The theft was so easy, practically begging to be stolen. The last owner was an idiot with no idea what to do with it. The last owner knew exactly what it could become, bless their heart, under a craftsman with more time on their hands, so they looked away on purpose at just the right time to let me take it home. I show up every time ready for our space, the place that fed me on joy and self-confidence when I was fifteen and starving. The place that taught me, yes, we are thieves, because it is RIGHT to take what we need, and the beautiful things we create are their own justification. We are thieves, and that's wonderful, because nothing is handed to us and that means we get to build our own palaces. We get to keep everything we steal.

I go home, and even knowing the world is different, my instincts and heart are waiting for that. And I walk in the door, and I look at my dash, and I glance over at twitter, and--

And people are angry, again. Angry at the slim pickings from the hidden special menu. So, so tired and angry, at once again having to steal.

And they're right to be! Sometimes (often, maybe) I think they're angry at the wrong people--more angry with the shopkeeper who offers the bite-sized sampler platter of side characters or sneaks their queer content in on the special menu than the ones who don't include it at all. But it's not wrong to be mad that Disney's once again advertising their First Gay Character only to find out it's a tiny sprinkle of a one-line extra on an otherwise straight sundae. It's not wrong to be furious at the world because you've spent your whole life needing to be a thief to survive. It's far from wrong. I'm angry about it too.

But this was my den of thieves, my chop shop, my makerspace. Growing up in fandom, I learned to pick the locks on stories and crack the safes of subtext at the very same time I learned to create. They were the same thing, the same art. We are thieves, my heart says, we are thieves, and that's what makes us better than the people we steal from. We deconstruct every time we create. We build better things out of the pieces.

And people are angry that the pre-fab materials are too hard to find, the pickings too slim, the items on sale too limited? Yes, of course they are, of course they should be--but my heart. Oh, my heart. Every single time, just a little bit, it breaks.

Of course the stories are terrible (they have always been terrible). Of course they are, but we are thieves. We steal the best parts and cobble them back together and what we make is better than it was before. The craftsman's eye that cases a story for weak points, for blank spaces, for anywhere we can fit a crowbar and pry apart this casing--that's skill and art and joy. Of course we shouldn't have to, of course we shouldn't have to, but I still love it. I still want it, crave it. I still thrill every time I see it, a story with hairline cracks that we can work open with clever hands to let the queer in.

That used to be cause for celebration, around here. I ask him to go back to the ruins of Aeor with me, two men together alone on an expedition in the frozen north, it feels like a gift. And I understand why some people take it as an insult. I understand not good enough. I understand how something can feel like a few drops of water to someone dying of thirst, like a slap in the face. If it was so easy to sneak it hidden onto the special menu, to place it on the unguarded side table for someone else to run off to, why not let it sit out front and center in the first place? I know it's frustrating. It should be. We should fight. We should always fight. I know why.

But my heart, oh, my heart. My heart only knows what it's been taught. My heart sees, this thing right here, the proprietor left it there for you with a nod and a wink because they Get It. It's not put together yet, but it's better that way anyway. It's so full of pieces to pull apart and reassemble. I bet they've got a whole mosaic wall going up at home already. We can bring it home and make it OURS, more than it was ever theirs, forget half of what it came from and grow a new garden in what remains.

And I go home to find anger, and my heart breaks instead.

[goldenmorningglory]

i’ve been real inactive but i want to spread this.

noah is attending upenn and there are some disturbing and frankly nauseating things that have been coming to light in the past few hours about the behaviour and intentions of a part of the college’s student body towards him.

please refer to the following twitter thread. heed the following warnings before doing so.

threats of physical harm, threats of date rape, drink spiking, peer pressure, general nastiness

https://twitter.com/burner4noah/status/1566539950681518080?s=20&t=MQhzQk-oqLvRmEgLFSu3MQ

the legitimacy of the thread hasn’t been established but more and more accounts are being posted on the account. as this is second hand and even third hand information, accuracy can be questionable.

however.

we fool nobody by thinking people, especially college students, are angels. mostly they are anything but. it is very likely that people will try to take advantage of his lack of real life experience/money/fame for clout and general disgusting behaviour. they are aware he is vulnerable especially as like any other kid, he’s trying to fit in. but he’s also a world famous celebrity at 17 and people are unhinged when they think they can get even a crumb of fame. 

the purpose of this post is to spread awareness so that any DECENT people at this college can take a stock of the situation and make sure he’s safe. email the school etc. 

but also. college is a part of life everyone steps into with stars in their eyes. dreams of living the life you wanted, trying out new things, meeting different people. noah isn’t at fault for wanting that. personally, i thought he’s really brave for even wanting to try and have a normal life considering the horror stories we know of people and their behaviour with celebrities. but wanting and practicalities are different and it would be for the best that this kind of insidious behaviour is spotted and reported right away.

also. for the kids entering college. DO NOT think for a second that it’s going to be a bed of roses. people are at their worst behaviour in college because of the lack of supervision. date rape, drugging, drink spiking are all very real and very much happening because of peer pressure and the fear of not fitting in.

from a person who (even though from an indian uni) graduated last year, let me tell you: you are not a loser for not going with the flow. please don’t risk your life for the sake of popularity or acceptance from fakers. it is NOT WORTH IT.

especially as freshmen, it is always, i repeat ALWAYS better to be safe than sorry. here, i’ll link a very good and thorough thread by one of my mutuals on twitter on safety for freshmen, and frankly anyone attending college in america or anywhere for that matter:

 https://twitter.com/hawkinshermit/status/1566695469895634944?s=20&t=MQhzQk-oqLvRmEgLFSu3MQ

PLEASE READ THROUGH THIS THREAD.

please spread this and all other awareness posts you see because every year tons of kids enter college. it is good for them to be aware of what they may face when it comes to negative experiences. 

please remember, whether you’re a famous teen actor or you’re the kid-next-door;

safety first, safety second, safety third.