#just working through my backlog of requests : )

[justabooknerdposts]

Hey! I think you've been taking prompts recently which made me very happy (if not, then totally fine) I'd love to read one where Percy and Annabeth sleep tgether for the first time in the Poseidon cabin (not in the sexual way, but wud still be a huge moment for them kind) for sm reason, ive always felt Annabeth wud bethre shyer one in this scenario xD also a moment of them in uni as they're maturing and their relationship is getting more serious (cud be in a physical way too?) would be awesome.

I'm lovingg reading all the other prompts, immediately canonizing them in my mind. Hope you're doing grt <3

Hi! Happy Annabeth's Birthday! Here are the responses to the two parts of this prompt. If you go to Fanfiction.net or Ao3 (which is working again, yay!), they're two separate chapters in my Tumblr Prompts fic, if anyone would rather read them that way. Hope everyone is doing well!

In the Poseidon Cabin

I DO really like this prompt because they're so calm in MoA when Frank catches them in the stables that it definitely feels like it’s not the first time they’ve woken up together.  Like, they were kind of embarrassed about getting caught, but neither of them acted at all embarrassed about having fallen asleep together, which I thought was interesting.  So, yay for this prompt and the opportunity to explore that lol thanks!

The guilt was stupid.  Annabeth knew that.  But still, two days after Percy’s disappearance, she couldn’t help mentally beating herself up.  They’d been searching for him night and day with no luck.  She’d hadn’t initially been too worried—he occasionally disappeared for a few hours, or even half a day, on random quests or to help sea creatures.  He’d never been gone this long, though, without alerting someone.  But Sally hadn’t heard anything and neither had anyone else.  There were no leads.  He was really and truly missing.  And, Annabeth had to admit, she hadn’t been holding out much hope.  It was the way his bed looked—the covers weren’t tossed back or rumpled like they normally were when he climbed out.  They were just limp and crumpled, still pulled up as if he’d simply disappeared out from beneath them.  Which meant that something worse than a random small quest was going on.  Annabeth just couldn’t figure out what.  The lack of information was infuriating.  To be honest, that felt better than the guilt, but the guilt kept creeping back.

She should have stayed in the Poseidon cabin that night.

There was no logical reason for her to be feeling this way.  Percy hadn’t asked.  She hadn’t offered.  And it probably wouldn’t have changed anything if she’d been there.  But what if it had? 

That was the thought which kept threatening to drive her crazy, like a pesky gnat she couldn’t swat.  It was possibly tied to her fatal flaw, thinking that she could have prevented whatever this was.  But she couldn’t help it.  She felt as if she had failed Percy at a moment when he needed her.  And that hurt.

After scouring the forest again for any sign of him (there was none) and then checking in with Tyson and Rainbow at the beach to see if there was any update from under the sea (there wasn’t), Annabeth felt herself start to crumble.  And it wouldn’t do any good for the other campers to see her like that.  So, needing a quiet place to get away from everyone for a few minutes, Annabeth went to the Poseidon cabin.

She perched on the edge of Percy’s bed and closed her eyes.  Maybe, if she listened very hard, the room would whisper to her what had happened.

But it didn’t.  She was just there, alone.

Tears burned Annabeth’s eyes.  She took a deep breath, fighting them down, because if she started crying now, she wasn’t sure she would stop.  And that wouldn’t do any good.  Instead, trying to distract herself, she thought of the first time she’d fallen asleep in the Poseidon cabin.

In the four months that she and Percy had been dating, they’d accidentally fallen asleep together a handful of times.  Usually, it was on the couch at Percy’s apartment while watching a movie, and once at her dorm.  But the first time had actually been in the Poseidon cabin, about a week and a half after they’d started dating.  It wasn’t anything scandalous.  They’d just wanted a few minutes away from everyone else.  So they were lying side by side on Percy’s bunk, watching the hippocampi swim across the ceiling.  It had been a long day.  There’d been a very intense post-war Capture the Flag game.  Everyone had seemed eager to throw themselves into a battle that wasn’t actually life or death.  Clarisse, in particular, had been spoiling for a fight.  Annabeth’s shoulder was still aching where she’d taken a hard hit from the daughter of Ares while doing guard duty near the creek.  Of course, Clarisse hadn’t come away unscathed.  Percy had drenched her in a wave of creek water.  While she’d been shouting at him and threatening him with her spear, Malcolm darted across the creek with the flag and the game was over.  Clarisse had been even less happy about that.

“How’s your shoulder?” Percy asked, probably because Annabeth had just winced when she shifted it.

“Sore,” she admitted.  “But I’ve had worse.”

“It was the shoulder where you took that knife, though, wasn’t it?”  Percy’s brow wrinkled with concern.  “That’s a low blow.  Clarisse should have known better.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes.  “Percy, that was almost two weeks ago.  The wound is completely healed.  Plus, you’re assuming Clarisse is observant enough to even realize that.”

He made a face at her, but didn’t argue.

Annabeth slid her fingers along the inside of his arm until she could take his hand.  “Besides, you got her back pretty good.”

Percy grinned.  “Yeah, that was fun.  Reminded me of old times.”

“At least you didn’t get me, too, this time.”  Annabeth nudged him with her good shoulder, remembering one of his first days at camp, when he’d drenched Clarisse and her cronies (and Annabeth) in toilet water.

“My bad.  That was friendly fire.”  Percy turned his head to kiss her cheek and Annabeth felt a flutter run through her.  “Plus, I had literally no control over my powers at that point.  I’m still not actually sure how I made those toilets explode.”

“Maybe you should practice?” Annabeth suggested sweetly.

Percy considered this.  “I could probably hit the Stolls the next time they steal something.”

“I like that idea.”

They both laughed.  Annabeth scooted closer until she could lay her head on Percy’s shoulder.  Golden afternoon sunlight made the bronze hippocampi shimmer against the stone ceiling.  Everything felt warm and calm and peaceful.  Percy squeezed her hand, but didn’t say anything.  Annabeth felt her eyelids getting heavy.  Outside, campers’ voices rose and fell, the usual sounds of talking, shouting, swords clanging from the arena, the climbing wall rumbling.  Inside the cabin, the only sound was the rush of their breathing.  Eventually, they’d both fallen asleep, only waking up when the conch horn had sounded for dinner.  Annabeth had been a bit embarrassed at first, and Percy’s face had been red, but after a few moments, they laughed it off and headed to dinner.  After all, they’d been sleeping beside each other on quests for years.  It wasn’t that different.  Except, Annabeth thought when Percy took her hand as they crossed the green, it also kind of was.

Now, sitting alone in the Poseidon cabin, Annabeth looked up again at the hippocampi, but sunset was nearly past and the cabin was dark, the stone walls reflecting a pale gray light.  There was no wind, so the bronze figurines just hung limply on their strings.  Everything felt darker and dimmer than that memory, which made everything hurt worse.  Annabeth bit her lip, forcing herself not to cry.

The cabin door swung open.  Annabeth jumped.  For one moment, she felt a disbelieving surge of hope, already imagining that it would be Percy in the doorway.  Her heart plummeted, though, when she realized that the figure standing there was Tyson.

“Sorry, Annabeth,” he said.  “I did not mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” Annabeth said, trying to hide her disappointment.  “I mean, I’m sorry about being in here.  I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Tyson shrugged.  “It is okay.  I don’t mind.”

“Thanks.”  Annabeth wondered if she should get up, but she couldn’t seem to find the energy.  Plus, it appeared that Tyson really didn’t mind, as he came over and sat down beside her on Percy’s bed.

They were quiet for a few moments. Then Tyson said, “I miss him, too.”

Annabeth crumbled.  She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands as the tears fell.

For a while, they just sat there, tears dripping from Annabeth’s hands onto her jeans as Tyson patted her back.  Finally, though, Tyson said, “We will find him, Annabeth.”

Annabeth couldn’t understand how he could have so much confidence in his voice.  But still, she raised her head enough to look at him.  “Do you think so?”

“Yes,” Tyson said without hesitation.  Annabeth almost believed him.

A gust of sea breeze blew through the open windows and a last glimmer of gold from the sunset broke through, gilding the bronze hippocampi now gently twirling above their heads like weathervanes unsure of which direction to point.

2ND RESPONSE: SOCKS

Set during either their freshman or sophomore year of college.

As she flipped through her textbook and shuffled her notes, Annabeth felt a pounding headache start behind her left eye.  It was nearly midterms and she’d been studying for what felt like hours, sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed in her New Rome University dorm room.  Her roommate had gone home for the weekend, so Annabeth had the room to herself, which was a rare treat.  And Percy was on his way over with dinner, so that was good news, because on top of developing a headache, she was starving.  She’d skipped lunch to keep studying.  Which was starting to feel like a huge mistake. 

A knock at the door signaled Percy’s arrival.  Annabeth bounced up from the bed.

“Hey.”  She smiled as she opened the door.

“Hey.”  Percy grinned back as he held up the takeout bags from their favorite Mediterranean restaurant.  “Dinner is served.”

“You’re the best.”  Annabeth kissed him, then shut the door behind him as he walked in and kicked off his shoes.

They ate sitting cross-legged on her bed while her laptop, balanced on top of the stack of books on her nightstand, played reruns of a TV sitcom.  Annabeth tried not to groan as she bit into her falafel pita, but it was tough.  She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was until now.

“Oh gods, this is so good.”  She poured more tzatziki sauce over her pita and took another bite.  “Magnus would be so jealous right now.”

Percy laughed, then frowned thoughtfully.  “Wait, can’t he order whatever he wants from that hotel?”

Annabeth shrugged and took another bite of falafel.  “According to him, there’s nothing like falafel from a real Earth restaurant.  Apparently there’s a specific one in Boston that’s the best.”

Percy’s frown deepened, a furrow appearing between his brows as he tapped his index finger against his own pita.  “I bet New York has a place that’s even better.”

“Getting a little competitive there, New Yorker?”  Annabeth nudged his socked foot with her own. 

Percy’s frown melted into a grin.  “New York City over Boston every time, baby.”  He nudged her foot back, then took another bite of his own food.  She returned his smile, even as she shook her head.

Suddenly, for no obvious reason, the easy intimacy of the moment hit Annabeth.  Just the two of them hanging out in her tiny college dorm room on a Saturday evening.  Nothing special, just cozy and comfortable.  A frisson of tension buried between her shoulder blades loosened as she took a deep breath in and allowed herself to relax.

Reaching out, she put a hand on Percy’s knee, giving it a light squeeze.  He met her eyes with another smile, then put a hand on the small of her back, leaned over, and kissed her cheek.

“How was your day?” he asked her.

“Ugh, so much studying.”  Annabeth crumpled up her falafel wrapper, tossed it into the brown paper takeout bag, then scooted closer to Percy, laying her head on his shoulder.  “How was yours?”

And with that, they settled into the familiar, contented ease of the evening.

*Thanks for reading!!*

[sysig]

Eyyy the Friend Shapes inbox is clear again ✨

[needlekind]

filterable picrew database!

original post updated march 7 2024

hey pals!! i'm working on a filterable, tagged collection of picrew i like. right now there's over 100 picrew (and other such makers such as those from neka or meiker) in there with tags for things like fashion, hair options, skin colors, specific features like horns or headscarves, and body types. you can search for multiple tags at a time and filter out tags you don't want. the whole thing is organized in a big grid of sample results from the picrew in question, so you can see the style at a glance and click it for more images and the url, but you can change the view and organization system however you like.

the link is here!!! feel free to share this wherever. i'm still going through my folders and adding more makers, so expect lots of updates real soon.

i'm hoping this makes it easier for people to find picrew that suit them and their characters, especially in cases where it's unfortunately harder to find certain features like dark skin options and fat bodies.

really important notes:

i do not take requests for additional tags. sorry!! please understand that every time i want to use a new tag, i have to manually go into every maker in the entire backlog and check to see if they have it. it's a pain! it takes a while! there's only one of me! the only circumstance under which i'm willing to add a new tag is if you're willing to go through the backlog and link me every picrew that needs the tag, and i can use it going forward.

if something is tagged wrong, i need to know which maker it is so i can fix it. you need to tell me! the most useful way to send me a specific picrew is a direct link, or the artist name (which will be the title when you click into the item in the database). sometimes i get vague comments like "there are makers in x tag that don't fit" and no one EVER follows up with which ones they are so i can't FIX IT.

one big thing that you can do to help me with this database is take one of the links on my tba page and tell me what tags apply to it. literally just one! enough folks see and use this resource that just a few people taking one takes a load off my plate.

💖🍵 if this resource has been useful for you, consider sending me a tip on ko-fi!!

have fun!!!! i hope this is helpful for people!!!

[sapphic-coded]

hey beautiful could u write about a nat x reader break up and there’s so much tension between them until they both break at a dinner party with the team and their dates 😋

Hey Friend! You're so sweet. I hope this lands somewhere in the ballpark of what you were hoping for. Thank you for the request!

No Use In You Trying, Baby

You are invited to a dinner party. Reluctantly, you go and run into your ex.

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Hurt feelings. Language Cap wouldn't approve of.

Word Count: 2.8k

You were content to spend all your time in your lab. It was your happy place. Your playground. This was where you could think clearly, and where all your best ideas originated from. Plus, it wasn’t as if you were hiding away in some basement cut off from the outside world. Your lab at the Compound was huge and had plenty of equally huge windows that allowed plenty of bright, warm sunlight in. And if you needed to socialize, there were plenty of people who walked by your lab daily. 

But you didn’t want to socialize. You wanted to focus on your work because for the first time in months you were finally making progress. Broken equipment and weapons that had just been sitting in your lab were finally leaving polished and new. Projects that had just only been sitting nestled in the back of your mind were suddenly finding life. It was amazing what you could accomplish in a single day without any distractions. 

You rolled backwards on your black swivel chair as you stared at your notes on the yellow legal pad in your hands. You were curious what Clint would think of your idea for this new arrow. The idea had come to you last night, and you had been thinking about it ever since. The back of your chair pressed against one of the many lab tables. You lowered your notepad and turned. All thoughts regarding your new arrow idea fled at the sight of the batons laying on the table. 

You held the batons in your hands and your brow furrowed as your thumbs pressed down on the button built into the base of the weapon. The usual quiet hum of the electrical discharge was silent. You tapped both of the batons together as if that would fix the problem, but nothing changed. 

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. Familiar, warm hands settled against your stomach while her chin came to rest over your left shoulder. 

“I tried that too,” her voice brushed against your ear. 

You sighed as you studied the twin weapons. “It shouldn’t be too hard to fix. It’s probably a broken conductor or…” You trailed off when you felt her hands travel lower. Her fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt. 

Who the hell put those there? 

“Incoming call from Mr. Stark,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice penetrated the quiet of your lab. 

You stood up and collected the batons. “Put him through.” You listened as Tony’s voice echoed throughout your lab. You carried the batons over to a growing stack of boxes running along the right side of your lab. You opened up the lid on one of the cardboard boxes as Tony went into detail about partnering up on another project he had in mind. You listened for key words while your thumb pressed down on the button at the base of one of the batons. You frowned. Still broken. 

“I also need you at the Tower tonight,” Tony said. 

You dumped the batons into the box. “Why?” 

“Because I’m throwing together a little dinner party,” Tony replied. “Just the team. We haven’t done one of those in a while.”  

“I’m busy,” your reply was automatic. 

“You finished your last official project two weeks ago.” 

“I’m working through my backlog,” you replied. 

“Fine,” Tony said. There was a moment of quiet when you wondered if he had hung up the phone. Your question was answered when you turned your back to the boxes. “I’ll be very interested to see how you manage to do that without any power.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Trust me, I’m wearing my serious face,” Tony replied. “I can demonstrate if you want.” 

The lights in your lab flickered.

“Fine. I’ll be there.” 

– – – 

You used to spend most of your time at Avengers Tower. This was where you got your start working for Tony Stark. When you first arrived at the Tower, you thought the labs there couldn’t get any better. You had been allowed to play around with tech you could only fantasize about. The amount of resources you had at your disposal was endless. It was fun. You loved creating weapons and upgrading equipment for the team. There were few things better than challenging yourself to create something better than the perfect project you just finished. 

When you entered the Tower, you were tempted to just go to your old floor. You hadn’t been able to move everything from your old lab to your new one at the Compound. Playing around with what you had left behind seemed like a better idea than attending a dinner party. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see the team. You did. But it hadn’t even been a month since your last conversation with Natasha. The one that had ended badly. You knew she would be here, and the last thing you wanted to do was see her. Because then everything you had been ignoring would come rushing back. You wouldn’t know what to say, and everything would just be easier if you kept your distance. 

Too bad you weren’t going to get what you wanted. 

When you reached the top floor, Tony was the first to greet you. It seemed you were the last to arrive as the rest of the team were talking amongst each other. You spotted familiar faces. Most of the team had brought along their dates. It made you want to leave even more, but you put on your best smile as you made small talk with the team. Thor was in the middle of telling you a tale of his most recent battle when you saw her. 

She was standing near the bar talking to Laura. Despite trying your best to focus on Thor’s story, you couldn’t help but notice that she looked beautiful. Then again, Natasha always looked stunning. The black dress she wore now only complimented her features. Or rather, the dress acted more like a reminder of a lost privilege. You gripped your glass of expensive wine tighter at the thought. Privilege? You hadn’t lost anything like that. Just a relationship that was bound to crash and burn. 

“...and then he went flying off the mountain,” Thor’s laugh drew your attention back to the god. “Never thought it’d end like that.” He shook his head and then took a long drink from his flask. “So, I hear you spend your time forging new weapons.”

“Uh, yeah,” you looked past Thor. Natasha smiled at something Laura had said. Stop it. You focused back on Thor and started talking about all the projects you had completed recently. You chose to only talk about the projects you knew would keep Thor’s attention: equipment upgrades, a very close to being completed laser sword, and an attempt to copy his hammer. He found that last bit very funny. 

You were grateful when everyone was summoned to the table for the actual dinner. All you had to do now was eat the food, make a tiny amount of more small talk, and then you could leave. You already had your excuses prepared. But as you approached the table, you realized that Tony had thrown a curveball your way. Tony had gone through (or rather he had someone else go through) and assigned the team seats. You already had an idea of where this was going, and your suspicion was confirmed when you found your seat right next to Natasha. 

You looked over at Tony. He winked at you, and you were tempted to leave. Instead, you sat down in your seat and set your expensive wine down on the table. You could do this. She hadn’t approached you yet this entire evening. The feeling of not wanting to interact with each other was mutual. You both could talk to other people. This was fine. 

The smell of her perfume hit you first. It grabbed hold of you and yanked you back through countless memories. You remembered the smell of jasmine with the barest hint of vanilla flooding your senses when she pulled you in for that first kiss. You remembered how your legs turned to jelly, and you were terrified that you were going to fall. You didn’t fall. Somehow, you stayed on your feet until the kiss was over. Your mind had gone blank. You had felt painfully dumb. What were you supposed to do? 

She smiled as her hands settled at your waist. “Aren’t you going to kiss me back?” 

You looked to your left as she sat down in her seat. She looked gorgeous and happy. As if nothing life altering had happened. You felt a spike of jealousy. She probably had forgotten all about you by now. Breaking off your relationship hadn’t changed anything for her. You had been right to doubt your relationship all along. You had only been a convenient fuck. You were so stupid to believe all those promises she made you. She certainly couldn’t keep many of them. 

You looked away and took a good, long drink of whatever Tony had poured into your glass. A wait staff appeared and set plates filled with delicious smelling food down in front of everyone. You set your now empty glass down, and another waiter appeared to refill it. You picked up your knife and fork and began cutting into the meat. You could do this. You should just pretend she isn’t here. Rogers was sitting to your right. You could always just make conversation with him. 

“Is this what we’re doing now?” her voice was low enough for only you to catch. 

You forced yourself to keep your focus on your plate as you continued to cut into the meat. Red juices leaked from what was probably a delicious cut of meat. “Yup.” You stabbed your fork into the tender meat and pushed it into your mouth. You chewed. Fuck. It was good. You heard her sigh, and you didn’t need to look at her to know she was also, most likely, shaking her head. 

“It’s a bad move,” she said. 

You bit back the first thought that came to mind and continued to eat. 

“This is obviously a setup. They’re trying to fix things,” she continued when you didn’t respond. 

You looked around at the table as you chewed. Everyone else was busy talking amongst themselves. You swallowed and still refused to look at her. “There’s nothing to fix.” She didn’t respond right away and you reached for your glass. Maybe this was all about to end. 

“Then I suggest we play along unless you want to go through this again,” she said. 

You set your glass down before you could take a sip and finally looked over at her. “I’m not going to play along.” You spotted the familiar look of frustration cross her face. It didn’t surprise you. Whenever you refused to go along with any of her plans, she got annoyed with you. You should have known from the very beginning that this relationship was never going to work. You felt stupid for even trying. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll see you at the next dinner party,” Natasha looked away from you.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you stabbed your fork into another piece of meat. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be too busy to attend the next one.” 

“Didn’t you already try that excuse?” she asked. 

You shoveled the piece of meat into your mouth and chewed. You didn’t bother to ask how she knew that. It was Natasha. She knew everything about you. You hated it. You hated that she was right. You hated sitting here so close to her. Every minute that passed was just more reminders of what had made you happy. It was gone, and you just wanted it all to stay dead. Why hadn’t Natasha shown up with the date? Why didn't you? You could think of a dozen ways you could have approached this whole stupid thing differently.  

“Y/N,” her voice was softer now and you felt a burning behind your eyes. 

“I can’t do this,” you heard the waver in your voice. You shouldn’t have come. You knew what would happen. You knew you would see her. You knew you would feel all these things. You weren’t sure if you couldn’t hear the other conversations happening around the table because people had stopped talking or because your quickening heart beat was now filling your ears. “I can’t.” 

You felt her hand fall over your own, and you quickly snatched your hand back and stood up. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes on you as you quickly left. You heard their voices all rise up as one, but you didn’t look back. You just needed to leave. Get some fresh air. Go back to the Compound and forget about all of this. 

Your pace quickened as you left the team behind and hurried towards the elevator. You were grateful that the doors parted immediately upon pushing the button. You stepped inside and pressed the button that would take you down to the garage. Your vision blurred and you felt a hot tear spill down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Stupid. This had been stupid. The doors started to close and just when you thought your escape was complete, Natasha slipped into the elevator. 

The doors shut completely and you shook your head. “No.” Your hand reached out towards the panel of buttons. You went to push the button that would force the elevator doors back open, but Natasha grabbed your hand before you could. “Let go, Nat. I’m not going back to that stupid party.” 

“That’s not why I’m here,” she said and released your hand the moment the elevator began to descend. 

Your hand dropped back down to your side. “Then why are you here?” You realized that was the wrong question to ask as her red lips parted to answer. You shook your head. “No! No. I don’t want to know. Just leave me alone.” 

She took a small step closer to you, and you instinctively stepped back and felt your back pressed against the cool wall of the elevator. “You’re not even going to give me a chance?” 

“A chance to do what? Lure me back to your side with more fake promises of some happy life together? You can’t use that bullshit on me anymore. I was just a convenient fuck for you,” you felt another tear slip, and you used the back of your hand to wipe it away. 

“You broke up with me,” she argued. 

“Because you pushed me away,” your voice wavered again, and you hated it. “Every time I tried to help or understand, you kept me out. The only time you let me in was when you wanted to fuck me. The only time you wanted me around was if you wanted to have sex with me. I wasn’t your girlfriend. I was your toy.” 

“I know.”

You were ready for anything. You had replayed all your arguments in your head hundreds of times. You were ready for any of her arguments. Except for that. Those two words caught you completely off guard. 

“I messed up,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

What was happening? This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You were supposed to argue back and forth until you were both spent and upset and eager to get away from each other. 

“Please let me try again.”

She had somehow managed to get even closer to you. Her voice was soft, and her olive green eyes were searching your face. She was trying to gauge your emotions. You could only wonder what she saw because you didn’t know how to feel. Tears still threatened to spill down your cheeks from all the pain you had been shoving down these past few weeks. Walking away from her had hurt so much. Because you did love her, and it had killed you to realize that she didn’t love you. 

You wanted to leap at this chance. You wanted it so badly, but you were hesitant. You had barely been able to walk away from her last time. You weren’t sure you would be able to do it again if all of this happened again. But you wanted to believe it wouldn’t. You wanted to believe that there was still some life in this dying husk of a relationship. 

You didn’t realize what had happened until her lips were pressed against yours. It felt like your first kiss all over again, only better. It felt familiar. The kiss was soft but needy. It reminded you of all the other ways she had kissed you before. The smell of her perfume flooded your senses, and you just wanted to collapse into her arms. You were tired of being angry. Tired of being upset. You wanted this. The kiss ended far too soon, and you started to lean forward to chase her retreating lips. 

You saw her smile when the elevator reached the garage floor, and the doors opened. You didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, you waited for the elevator doors to close before you leaned forward to kiss her back. 

[fushiglow]

anyone want a satosugu swimming au?!

sooooo... @bearhaviour and i completely ran away with swimming au ideas after discovering we both swam competitively as kids (lol). i quickly bashed this out on my selfish mission to persuade bear to draw my silly lane divider kiss idea but… i actually kinda like it?? 🫠

at this point, i feel like i should just start sharing my many unfinished snippets with the world and hope they turn into something substantial eventually... so here, take this wip and pretend you didn't see it! go look at bear's swimming au art while you're at it

sorry if you're waiting for me to get to your request!! i'm still working through the ones i received on the first day, but the turnaround should be quicker once i've got through the (much appreciated) backlog. still working on the next chapter of threshold too, i promise 🫶

‘I guess you’re not as fast as you thought, Satoru.’ The sound of his name on those lips always did strange things to Satoru’s stomach, but the way Suguru gasped around the syllables then, a little breathless with exertion? That was something else entirely. He’d long thought blue his colour, but as Satoru watched the water’s reflections dancing across Suguru’s features, bathing him in the glow of the underwater lighting, he knew. If blue had ever been his, it belonged to Suguru now. ‘You didn’t win,’ Satoru finally managed. At the slight break in his voice, Suguru’s lips twitched and Satoru could only watch them, mesmerised. Warm fingers brushed up against his over the lane divider — when had he let go of the starting block? When had Suguru let go of the starting block? ‘Neither did you.’ Their toes touched under the water and the gasp that escaped Satoru was mortifying. Suguru didn’t seem to think so; the spark in his eyes burst into life like Satoru had poured gasoline over it. When a powerful calf caressed his, it felt a little more purposeful this time. Satoru actually had to bite his lip to suppress his moan. With his ego already taking significant damage, he was grasping at straws when he said, ‘I want a rematch.’ Suguru’s answering grin was positively wolfish. He leaned over the lane divider a little more and it sagged under their joint weight, parting the water to bring them together. ’Oh yeah?’ The sensation of warm breath washing over Satoru’s face gave him pause. He couldn’t think straight; couldn’t remember if their faces had been this close only moments ago. When his gaze fell to Suguru’s lips, he knew it was all over. ‘Think you can win, Satoru?’ He murmured his response into Suguru’s open mouth. ‘I’ll win.’ Of that, at least, Satoru was certain.

[avocado-writing]

First, I am absolutely obsessed with your writing. I go feral every time I get a notification that you've made a post. When you pick a request of mine I've been reblogging it multiple times so it's easier for me to find it to reread. Please keep up the good work. You are appreciated. 💛

I was wondering if you could please write how the bg3 companions+ Halsin, Rolan, Dammon and Zevlor would react to finding out that a Tav/reader with considerable facial scarring has been harboring feelings for them, but has been afraid to tell them because they're afraid they will be rejected for their appearance; something that has happened many times.

I know it's a big ask, so if it's too much please just pick the characters that you want. Though, I would appreciate it if you included Rolan.

Again, love your works! Make sure to take care of yourself as you go through your backlog!

hello lovely! i've actually written something similar to this for the ladies, so I'll just be writing for the men for this one!

Astarion

When he finds out you’ve been rejected for how you look, goes on a long rant about how shallow people can be (definitely ironic). Cue the “I probably draw more looks than you” line.

This is all to show you that he doesn’t care how you look. He fell in love with your kindness first, your actions.

Absolutely reciprocates your feelings no matter what.

Drops little affections every day. “You’re perfect you know.” “My love, you are wonderful.” “You have my whole heart.”

Gale

He admires your brain and heart. To him, you are perfection. Honestly he confesses to you before you get the chance to admit your feelings.

When you tell him you feel the same but were worried due to past rejections he reassures you it doesn’t matter to him.

But if it matters to you he will ask if it’s something you’d like to try to fix or hide with magic, and will take the appropriate steps afterwards.

He loves you. He’d do anything to make you happy.

Wyll

Starts trying to woo you with romantic poetry recited or written out and left at your tent, which you assume must be for someone else - it takes his confession for you to realise he likes you.

You have a long heart-to-heart discussing your fears about how you look, where he takes the chance to confirm his feelings aren’t affected by anything, something you desperately needed to hear.

Holds you close every moment he has a chance to, giving you little kisses peppered across your face.

Halsin

Is confused why you think he’d care about your scars? They’re a sign of your life lived, the obstacles you’ve overcome.

He points at his own face. “They are a mark of pride, my heart. Nothing more.”

Spends a long time holding you, whispering praises to you, especially when you’re making love. Nothing he likes more than pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear and telling you how lovely you are, voice gravelly with desire.

Will make you feel like the most treasured thing in the world.

Rolan

The two of you are skirting around each other for a while. You too scared to tell him, him too proud to confess to you.

Perhaps one day you have a bad experience with a stranger’s reaction to your face, and he finds you crying. Asks what’s wrong. When he finds out, he’s furious.

“I can’t believe they’d care about something like that. You saved this city, they should love you like I do.”

And just like that he’s said it, and you’re overwhelmed. Leads to him choking out his feelings for you, cheeks even brighter red than usual. You tease him a bit, and kiss him. He’s never been happier.

[littlenightma]

Warm Hands | Rusty Nail x Female!Reader | Part 1

Author’s Note: This man has me giggling and kicking my feet. Thank you @peyton-peyton for the recommendation because I am obsessed. By the way, I know my requests are closed (I have quite the backlog) but if anyone wants to send me any headcanon requests regarding Rusty, feel free to. I can’t get enough of this man 💕

Warning Tags: Older man/younger woman, size difference, possessive behavior, dubious consent, smitten at first sight, Rusty is doting on reader, and a lot of smut (in part 2).

Winter had finally settled in your small town. A fine layer of frosty snow blanketed the ground, keeping most off the roads and inside their homes, tucked safe and sound in their beds.

The convenience store parking lot was vacant besides a few stray cars, most likely belonging to the store workers, and a black Peterbilt truck. With the exception of a light post flickering noisily above you, the world was quiet.

The door ringed when you entered, announcing to the cashier, who was currently reading a magazine, that a customer was here. You politely nodded as you quickly pass, skimming past a man idling by the lighter display.

Knowing the store by heart, you had gathered what you wanted in less than a minute. You took your place behind the man where you realized just how tall he was because you barely came up past the middle of his back.

Geez, dude, what the hell did your mother feed you when you were a kid?

Must have been the owner of the Peterbilt. His attire screamed trucker with his thick, brown coat, worn jeans, and work boots. Curling just beneath his dirty baseball cap was dark, graying hair.

“Pack of Malborros too.”

The deep baritone caused a chill to go down your spine. You hummed it out, shaking your head to keep your thoughts from straying. He pulled out a black wallet attached to a long, silver chain that hung from his hips. Grabbing his lighter and smokes, he gruffly thanked the worker and headed for the door.

Beneath the glow of the store’s fluorescent lights his ruggedly handsome features weren’t able to hide the strong jaw covered in stubble, plush lips set in a grim frown, or baby blue eyes that reflected just how tired he was.

He walked by you to the front door and you sucked in a breath when his hand lightly brushed yours, sending an electric shock to your heart that felt like it had stopped beating. So subtle, the contact, yet it left your mind reeling. Both you and the cashier watched him walk to his truck. While she couldn’t tear her eyes off his ass, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his hand.

She made a noise. “He sure was a tall drink of water.”

You blinked. “Oh, yeah, I guess.”

She inclined her head. “You know he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

Even though you rolled your eyes, your heart skipped a beat. “Stop it.”

She scanned your drink, eyes bulging. “I’m serious!”

“I was only up here for two seconds.”

“Baby, he had his eyes locked on you the moment you stepped through the door. You’ll be lucky to make it out of the parking lot without him nippin’ at your heels.”

He’ll be long gone.

You glanced out the display window. His truck was still there.

Or not.

She finished scanning the rest of your things. “Fine, don’t believe me. But I’ve been around the block a few times. I know when a man wants a woman.” She slipped the receipt into the bag and slid it across the counter.

“Prepare to be disappointed.”

She smirked and winked. “Have a nice night, sweetheart.”

The wintry air nipped at your nose. You shivered and stuffed your hands in the pockets of your jacket. The truck camouflaged perfectly against the black night. The light post that still flickered illuminated just enough where you could see inside. The trucker sat hunched over in the driver’s seat with a lit cigarette dangling loosely out his mouth.

You had to pass the truck to get to your car. Sucking in a long breath to calm your nerves, you slowly walked to your car. As you came closer, the driver’s side window slowly winded down.

His deep voice pierced the silence like a freshly sharpened knife, “It isn’t safe for a young woman to be out here by herself.”

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears. “Why do you think I’m alone?”

“I’d hate to think any man would allow their lady to walk themselves to their car in the middle of the night.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth, cushioning it between two fingers. “I know I wouldn’t allow mine to.”

The way he elongated the word mine was not missed and neither did was the way he peered down at you from beneath his hat, watching your reaction. Your cheeks felt warmer than the rest of your body and you knew you must have been blushing from the attention he was giving you.

“Maybe I have a shitty boyfriend?”

“Would be quite the shame. Pretty thing like you deserves someone who will treat her right.”

It was a good thing you weren’t made of snow because you were melting beneath his scorching stare and flirtatious words.

Stop it. Tell him you have a boyfriend.

Your mouth betrayed your thoughts, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

He took a long drag, inhaling deeply, the corner of his lips curling. “Good, means I don’t have to teach the boy a lesson about respecting his woman.”

He tapped the end of the cigarette out the window. Ash fell onto the ground causing small, random holes to form, ruining the undisturbed beauty of the freshly fallen snow.

“I don’t often do this, but it would be nice to have some company for the night.”

And there it was. Part of you knew this is where the conversation was heading. Truckers stayed on the road for days, even weeks at a time, usually without anyone to talk to except for other haulers. It wasn’t unheard of for them to pick up a woman along the way, but you weren’t looking for a one night stand.

“I’m sorry but I need to get home before the storm gets worse. Have a nice night.”

The cigarette bounced between his pink lips, lips that looked so kissable that it was a crime that the next words that came out of them froze you worse than the chilly night. He blew out a puff of smoke before dousing out what was left of the tobacco end. He flicked it off somewhere in the distance and his gaze then settled back on you.

“That wasn’t exactly a suggestion, little one.”

“What?” You stepped back. “Look, whatever you’re looking for, you’re not going to find it with me. Like I said, I need to get home.”

He chuckled low. “You won’t make it far, believe me.”

You shook your head, not believing this was happening. “There are plenty of women who will happily make your night.”

He sighed heavily and hopped out of the truck. “Don’t make me have to ask again. I hate repeatin’ myself.”

The ice made it difficult to move quickly without skidding and he grabbed you before you could move out of his reach. Not hard, not roughly, just enough to keep a hold of you. He pulled you around and opened the cab’s passenger door, waiting for you to climb the steps.

“I ain’t going to hurt ya, darlin’. Get on up there.”

Even though his words were reassuring like the large hands resting on your shoulders, he had you caged between the truck cab and his body. He nudged you up the steps, following closely behind until you were settled in the passenger seat. The cab rattled and so did your nerves when he slammed the door shut. As he walked around the front, you pulled the door handle.

It was locked.

[hamcakevaletguy]

My thoughts on the Damien situation, from the POV of someone who’s relatively uninvolved with posting on social media:

As a newer fan of Smosh myself (I watched some videos in 2012, but haven’t really kept up since, and only started regularly watching the last year or so), I went through the backlog of content that they have because I enjoyed their more recent videos. Zayna, a newer Palestinian fan, did the same and found this joke in an old TNTL disappointing and wanted him to address it firsthand and make his stance clear.

For anyone saying Damien has already made it clear that he is in support of Palestine: it’s not a given that the fan who brought up the clip would have already known about Damien’s stance on Palestine. Yes, he’s talked about it in a couple of his streams and posted Insta stories about it, but a newer fan of Smosh, not necessarily Damien himself, wouldn’t know about those unless they were looking for it because they are:

temporary (IG stories only have a lifespan of 24 hours unless you take screenshots) or

a few minutes hidden under several hours of game streams on a separate platform (he talked about Palestine several months ago and has streamed a lot since, unless you know the specific Twitch stream and the timestamp when he talked about it or had clips of it, most casual fans wouldn’t know either)

In his defense, Damien himself has recently said that more fandom stuff has reached his timeline than he would like, so maybe he thinks more people know about his activism because of that. However, even if Zayna did know, wanting a straightforward statement apologizing for the insensitive joke (because bringing up the "Israeli-Palestinian conflict" [as it was called back in 2019, not accurate to what has been going on for 70+ years and counting, which is an ethnic cleansing] for shock value, as he himself said, is insensitive) is not an unreasonable request.

More under the cut

When all you have is 240 characters per reply, the things that you do choose to say matter even more. When you parse out everything in Damien's replies, he doesn't come out looking too good. Yes, he did apologize for the original joke. In his replies, he said:

using it as shock value was in poor taste and naive of him,

it was in poor taste back in 2019 and he wouldn't make it now

(in response to his first couple of replies) he is sorry for reacting in frustration and he'll learn from it,

and, in his final reply, his parting words were "With all my heart, I hope for safety for your loved ones. Be well."

However, he also says and does things that undermine his apology in the same replies:

questioning why the clip was brought up in the first place, as if bringing up old content wasn't something fans regularly do with things they're interested about and as if it's not still a public video fans can easily find,

bringing up that the fan in question had 19K followers, a fraction of the followers he has as a public figure,

saying that this conversation could have been done in private, as if an initial DM request wouldn't be buried in his other requests as a public figure, and as if he doesn't have the capability to start a DM himself to clarify things after the initial reply/post,

saying that the original tweets tagging him should have been deleted after his first response when he never asked for that, and just assumed it would happen for some reason,

deleting his replies a couple of hours later,

and blocking Zayna and several others who were only interacting with Damien through quote tweets (I'm not sure how quote tweets work, do they notify the OP?), some who don't even say anything remotely critical of him - in his defense, blocking is not inherently a bad thing, it just means that he doesn't want any further interactions from them for whatever reason. However, silencing any Palestinian voice isn't good, to say the least.

Damien has always been a proponent of “trying to understand and see from different perspectives” so his response here surprised me, personally. I get that he has a fear of being misunderstood, but jumping to the conclusion that the other party is purposefully trying to be incendiary is the opposite of that.

I'm not going to try to make excuses for him. He knows better. He's been a content creator for years. He knows he has more influence than any normal fan would. His autism is not a part of this conversation either. Mental illness is an explanation for behavior, it doesn't absolve you of the consequences of it. If you're citing Damien's autism as an excuse for his behavior, you have to also account for Zayna's autism.

People are also bringing up the possibility of Damien getting death threats as a result of this, which we have no proof of and won't have proof of unless Damien himself decides to disclose that. He has only stated that he is taking a social media break, which has been a long time coming, not necessarily only because of this, because he has been busy and tired in recent months. What we do know has happened is that Zayna has received death threats (weird of people to want the death of a Palestinian when the original argument they're defending Damien for is that he is in support of Palestinian liberation).

This isn’t an issue of cancel culture, it’s an issue of accountability and frankly, hero worship of Damien in the part of people attacking Zayna and other people on Twitter.

When the only people who had spoken about their support of Palestine in their own words, however briefly, are two or three cast members, some people are naturally going to put them on pedestals. This hero worship of Damien has been exacerbated by his image as the most politically correct member of Smosh, and Smosh’s (until recently) silence about the issue.

While we're at it, for people saying Smosh's sudden outward support for Palestine and joining Creators for Palestine is in response to backlash about Damien, or only in response to the block list going around:

It's only been a few days since the Damien's whole ordeal. Smosh is not that fast, and historically, their response to backlash would have been either complete radio silence or unlisting or privating the TNTL that the clip is from, combined with silence.

I’m sure Shayne, Ian and Courtney have been working on it for more than a few days, based on their liked posts, to get everything straightened out with the organization themselves and adding their names to the list of creators.

People have been asking for Smosh to be more public about their views on Palestine. Some of the cast members have said their piece on their personal social media, but their views could have changed. Those posts were made shortly after the events of October 7 brought even more media attention on Palestine and the Gaza Strip, which was not necessarily in favor of Palestine because of the effects of U.S. propaganda. It's been several months since then and people have a lot more information now, and more clarity.

Up until now, the only indication of Palestinian support not from social media is a brief statement from Ian who said something along the lines of "travel watermelon", while they were talking about their rejected roasts during Anthony's Funeral After Show in December, which are codewords that were used in TikTok for Free Palestine. However, this is heavily censored, behind a paywall, and temporary, because of the nature of their live shows. This support of CFP is the bare minimum of what Smosh could do, but the bare minimum is more than they were doing before.

They listed Smosh as the name under their $15,000 donation to CFP, not just Shayne, Courtney and Ian, which could be intentional, referring to Smosh as a whole company, or just referring to the three that have posted about it as a collective. Unless Smosh makes a full statement about it, themselves, it's still up in the air.

The timing of it is unfortunate. Damien has been silent about it so far, making his original posts about Palestine seem performative to some. However, it’s only been a few hours and he is on a social media break. The only thing he has briefly gone back online for is to promote something he's doing with Nintendo, which he could have been contractually obligated to do. He may or may not say something when he fully comes back from his social media break, but for now, that's everything we know. People can make their own conclusions based on all of this.

I am being very intentional with every single word I say on here, as to not be misconstrued in any way, however, if I missed anything or anyone else has anything to add (constructively, like images of either the actual conversation had by Damien and Zayna, or the cast and crew's support of Palestine prior to CFP, not outright anger and disagreement), please do. If anyone has any genuine questions about the situation, please feel free to message me directly and not bring it into this post, which is supposed to be a civil discussion surrounding more facts and events, less speculation. If I feel those questions have relevant points to add on here, I will add on in reblogs.

[weirdw00d]

I want to get flower/vine roll tattoos sooo bad. But 1) the artist who originated them (@carrie_metz_caporusso on insta) has been dealing with chronic pain and has only just now started to dip back into doing them and there's a huge list of backlogged people she's got to work through before opening more requests and 2) I need someone who would rub lotion on my rolls cuz I'm such a baby about the healing process and I can't reach 🥺

[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Collared Occasion (Prodigal Son One-Shot)

Martin Whitly x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: Martin gets you a collar.

CW: possessive!Martin, it's Martin Whitly. Content warning enough, choking, p in v

Prodigal Son Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

On the days when Martin is allowed to work from home, you find yourself gravitating towards his study. Not to bother him, but just to be in his space. His hours are so erratic and varied what with all the surgeries at all hours and being on-call for emergencies- plus all the admin work? It was a miracle you were able to see him as often and as much as you did. 

Of course, his days from home weren't all that common. Just when he had a huge backlog of admin and paperwork, the hospital just sent him home to work on it so he wasn’t being disturbed by interns and surgeons in training all day long. Not that you were complaining about it, of course. The more work-from-home days he had the better in your opinion. 

Martin had brought it up one night when he had his hand around your throat and his cock buried so deep in your cunt you may as well have been choking on it. 

“Fuck, my love, you’re so tight- fuck, look at you. Oh, there’s an idea. How about a collar, hmm? So everyone knows that you’re mine.” 

His cock had twitched violently at the thought, and the keening sound that worked its way out despite the death grip Martin had on your throat had barely sounded human with how desperate it was. 

The next day there was a collar on your pillow when you got home from work. It was a pretty thing. Understated. It was a thick black leather band that buckled at the back. There was a little split ring in the middle centre for a leash. Oh. Now there was an idea. 

You’d fingered the leather for a moment picturing this when Martin had happened upon you. 

“I see you found your present, my dear,” he’d purred, sweeping your hair over one shoulder and pressing kisses to the side of your neck, hands dancing over your hips to wrap you in his arms. He watched your hands playing with the collar for a moment or two, his breath sending shivers down your spine as you felt it on your neck. 

“Would you like to try it on?”

Those seven words had sent heat coursing straight through you to your core. You’d sucked in a breath and Martin had chuckled darkly, releasing you from his grasp so he could take the collar softly from your hands. He’d asked you to hold your hair up for him, and he’d unbuckled the back to slip it around your throat. 

You’d kept your hair up in one hand and with the other brushed your fingertips over the leather of the front. Martin had smirked behind you, not that you could see it. 

Once he had it buckled nice and snug, he asked you to turn around. The look of adoration on his face had sent your eyes to the painting behind him, avoiding eye contact because the sincerity was just too much. 

“There she is. Daddy’s little whore, hmm? Perfect,” Martin brushed a finger over your cheek before trailing it down to brush over the leather. “You’re absolutely exquisite, darling.” 

Then his finger was looping into the ring and yanking you towards him. Your breath hitched as you crashed towards him. He steadied you right before you fell into him and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Such a contrast to the dominant act right before that it practically gave you whiplash. 

“Mm, I think I like this look on you, my dear,” he’d practically purred.

 

“Yeah?” You’d breathed through the word. “Me too.” 

“I thought you might- such a whore for me. You’re mine, aren’t you.”

 

You nodded, lips parted as you basically panted with need.

“Yeah. Daddy’s little whore.” 

Martin grinned possessively. 

“That you are, darling.” 

And so, it so happened that whenever Martin was allowed to work from home, he’d have you wear your collar and sit in your chair by his desk, or under the desk with his cock down your throat when he asked (and even when he didn’t, sometimes). Basically, you did whatever he asked of you, whenever he asked. 

And you enjoyed it very much.

[tasteleeknow]

Hiii i love your blog so much, I was wondering if I could request a comfort fic where Hyunjin gets sick while on tour and y/n takes care of him. 🥹

thank you so much love ♡ i shifted this a little to just him being sick in general bc idol!au isn't something i like to write. hope you enjoy anyway! i know this is late, i'm working through a backlog!

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader genre: fluff, slight angst. established relationship. word count: 600

"Would you lie down please?" you ask again, pushing on your boyfriend's shoulder gently in at attempt to get him back down to his pillow. He'd been sick when he got home last night. It was obvious. He'd denied it anyway, brushing off your attention and staying up until the morning hours. It was no surprise at all when he'd woken up today much sicker, his voice croaky and cheeks flushed.

He brushes you off again, attempting to stand. When he wobbles on his feet you attempt to catch him, not prepared for the full weight of him. You stumble back a step, tripping over a power cord and finding yourself falling backwards. You release him quickly, not wanting to pull him down with you. His arm reaches out to catch you, reflexes not as sharp as usual. He ends up on top of you, failing to catch you and losing his balance in the process.

You groan as his full bodyweight presses you into the carpet, compressing your lungs. He rolls off you onto his back, chest rising and falling deeply as he catches his breath. You frown, leaning over him and cradling his cheek in your palm. He's too warm and far too out of the breath.

"Please?" you ask again, struggling to keep your eyes from watering.

His eyes flick across your face and he lifts his hand to cover yours where you hold his cheek. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, voice croaky and strangled.

You shake your head. "Just let me take care of you? You'd want to do the same for me, yeah?"

He sighs, then nods—letting you pull him up and helping him into bed. You pull the covers back and turn the temperature in the room down, attempting to cool him. "I'll be back in a sec, don't move," you instruct, attempting to put as much authority into your tone as possible. He offers you a small smile, nodding in agreement.

When you return he's staring at the ceiling, arm thrown over his head. He's clearly still hot, skin covered with a thin layer of sweat. You climb into the bed, setting your supplies down next to you. "Can you sit up for a second?" you ask, snaking your arm under his shoulders to help him up. He lets you help him as he swallows the medicine you've brought him.

"Stop frowning," he croaks when you lay his head back on his pillow gently.

"You should've let me look after you last night," you grumble.

He reaches for your hand, his clammy palm hot against yours. "Forgive me?"

"Just stop being sick."

He smiles. "I'll do my best," he says, lifting your hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to your skin. Then he frowns, eyes dropping to where his lips had been—as if he can see a mark he's left behind. "You should leave," he says.

"No," you answer quickly, dipping the small cloth you'd collected into a bowl of cold water you'd placed on the bedside table.

He grabs your wrist as you attempt to place the wet cloth over his forehead. "You'll get sick," he croaks out.

"I slept next to you for hours. If I'm going to get it, I've caught it already. Now, shut up."

He pouts, releasing your wrist and letting you press the cool fabric to his burning skin. Then he sighs, his tired eyes fluttering closed. You grab the other cloth from your pile of supplies and dip it in the water, using it to gently wipe the sweat from his neck, then his chest—repeating the process until his breathing evens out. You lift the now warm cloth from his forehead then press a gentle kiss to his skin.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ general masterlist

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ᴏʙʟɪᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴛ. ꜰᴏᴜʀ || 2k12! ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

a/n: Hello hello, and welcome to the final part of Oblivious! :) It's very delayed and a teensy bit rushed, and I apologise for that. I've been so busy with work, studying, and planning for my trip to Korea that I've been neglecting some of my writing lately. I'm currently backlogging chapters for various fics, so my good friend @theblindhag(Hey I know this is super last minute but can you help me out lol)) can help me post them when I'm overseas!

Thank you guys for loving this mini-series I continued from kite-anon's initial request. Kite anon, if you're seeing this, look at the legacy you've left behind lololol :) Enjoy!

[ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“What do you think?”

You do a quick spin in the knee-length sundress you’ve just tried on, April humming in thought before giving you a thumbs up and a wide smile. You grin in response, giving yourself a glance over in the mirror.

“Do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’d be an idiot.” April snorts, dismissing your concerns with a simple wave of her hand. You giggle at her remark, doing one last twirl before nodding with a satisfied smile. You like the design and might even dare say that you look relatively pretty.

You pay for the dress, leaving the store with a quick thanks to the staff who assisted you both earlier. “I guess this was a successful hangout,” April says, handing you your shopping bag with the dress inside, transferring her own into her left hand so it won’t bump against your legs while the both of you walk.

“So, who’s this guy you’re going on a date with?” April hums with a teasing glint in her eyes. You hit her shoulder lightly with a playful scoff. 

“I see, so this was all so you could get the details outta me.” 

“Can’t help it if I'm curious.” She shrugs nonchalantly in response. “So? Who’s the lucky guy?”

“...Josh…”

“Which one? We have too many in our school. I swear, it’s like a plague.” She mutters.

You hesitate. “Josh Curtis.”

She gasps. “From Chemistry class?”

You nod with a sheepish smile, her wide eyes drawing a chuckle out of you. “I heard that he had a crush on someone in our class. Turns out it was you!” She gives you an impressed nod.

You laugh, pink tinting your cheeks as you shake your head. “I’m probably not them. I barely even speak to him.” You spot a cafe up ahead, relieved by a change in subject. “Didn’t you say you were craving a croissant? I’m starving. Let’s eat!”

April lets it slide with a raised brow and knowing smile, following you inside the quiet cafe. You order a latte and sandwich for yourself, along with a croissant and Diet Coke for April. You insist on paying since April took time out of her schedule to help you shop for your date.

You both sit in a secluded corner of the cafe, your phone vibrating in your pocket. You grab it, confused when you see the black screen. Ah. You reach into your pocket again, pulling out the T-Phone and answering the call without looking.

“What’s crackin’?”

“Not much, just wondering when you were gonna come over and pick up your jacket before your date.” 

You pause, speechless, when you realise it’s Donnie on the other end. You fumble for words, April watching your visibly stressed state with an amused grin. Ever since that day when you had asked to go back to how the both of you were before, he had resumed as if nothing had happened.

Sometimes you catch the little forlorn glances he gives you, brushing it off as guilt for not accepting your feelings. It was a little off-putting, though, how quickly Donnie had adapted to it. Sure, you’re the one who suggested pretending as if the whole heartbreak thing never happened, but he was getting over it quicker than you expected.

You frown slightly. He could’ve at least pretended to be affected.

“My jacket?”

“Yeah, I helped you wash it. Getting the tomato stain out was a little hard, but I figured something out.”

You huff with a thankful smile, running your fingers through your hair. “Thanks, Don. You didn’t have to.” You say gratefully. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s no problem,” He replies with a chuckle. You feel your heart stutter ever-so-slightly, ignoring the sensation. It’s nothing to think about.

“I’ll swing by in a while, just gotta get ready for tonight’s date.” You glance at the clock, relieved when you realise there’s more than enough time to prepare. The server comes with the food you’ve ordered, and you thank him quickly before taking a sip of your latte.

“Alright, see ya then!” He hangs up promptly after his cheerful goodbye, and you lower the phone once the monotonous dial tone reaches your ears.

“So, how’s it going with you and Donnie?” 

You choke on your coffee, coughing as you process the sudden question. April hands you some tissues, gently patting your back as she waits for your response. Your coughs finally subside, looking back up once you pull yourself together.

“It’s going fine. We’re back to being friends now.” You say calmly. Well, as calm as you can be after choking on your drink.

“Are you happy?”

You flinch. You hesitate, looking down at your cup and nibbling on your lip as you think of how to respond. It’s not that you aren’t happy. You had Donnie back as a friend and recently hung out with the rest of the boys. You even had a date!

So why do you feel like something’s missing?

You shake your head, ridding yourself of such thoughts. 

You’re happy.

You are.

You have to be, right?

“I am,” You reply confidently, though the hint of uncertainty in your words says otherwise.

“Okay then,” She begins to eat her croissant. You smirk, an idea forming in your mind for some payback. You take another casual sip of your latte, setting it down and readying your ammunition.

“So, I heard that Jones asked you out in the hallway.”

You grin as she chokes.

— — — — — — — — —

“What’s crackin’?” You greet Mikey with a fist bump as he skates past you, making your way to Donnie’s lab after Mikey hollers his greetings in response.

You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath before you push the lab doors open. You hate how you still have to do that every single time, nervousness crawling around in your stomach like a worm about to consume its very first apple.

Donnie turns around, about to greet you, before his jaw goes slack, lips parted as he stares at you. You flush, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before subtly checking for any dirt on the dress you had bought. Was your makeup smudged? You’re pretty sure it isn’t. 

You straighten your back, coming to your senses. Why were you even concerned about what Donnie thought? You’re happy with how you look. 

You do a quick spin with a confident smile. “What do you think?” 

As if your voice snaps Donnie out of his daze, he clears his throat, averting his gaze and nodding. “I-it looks good. You look good.” He stutters slightly, shifting to grab your jacket. 

You take it with a grateful smile. You hear him swallow thickly when your eyes meet, taking the jacket from his hands. 

It couldn’t be…could it?

Nah, it’s probably nothing.

“Thanks for all the flashcards, Donnie,” You add, pulling out the stack of conversation starters from your purse and handing them back to him. He takes it from you with a simple nod and grin, seemingly having composed himself.

“I hope you have fun on your date. Make sure you get back safe and stay away from the trouble hotspots that I warned you about. Call me if you need anything, and if it gets chilly, make sure you wear your jacket. If he tries to pull anything, just let me know, and he’ll never see the light of day again. Do you have enough money for the cab fare, just in case-”

“I’ll be fine, Donnie.” You cut him off with a laugh. “If anything happens, you’ll be the first I’ll call,” You promise with a playful wink. 

“No,” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll accompany you there from the rooftops, just in case.”

— — — — — — — — —

The walk to the cinema is quiet. 

You cast a glance at Donnie, who’s walking beside you, eyes skimming over the way the skin between his eyes furrows as his lips purse into a slight frown. You lick your dry lips, glancing back down at your hands. 

“So,” You try to break the silence, tilting your head with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“Mmhm.”

“You good?”

“Mmhm.”

“You want some pineapple pizza?”

“Mmhm.”

You stop in your tracks. Donnie doesn’t notice, too engrossed in his thoughts. You prop your hands on your hips, brows furrowed in growing concern for your friend. “I got attacked by a Kraang last night.”

“Mmhm,” He hums again but pauses, rapidly blinking once he processes your words. “You got attacked by the Kraang?” His voice is filled with disbelief, hurrying back over to you and gently taking your wrists. He lifts them with worry, checking your arms for any bruises or scrapes.

You watch him for a moment, slowly placing your hands back down. He looks back at you with an uncertain gaze, breath stuttering when you look up at him with glitter-dusted eyelids, the subtle shimmer making the colour of your eyes pop.

You chuckle. “No, silly. You just looked so distracted. I figured this would be the only way to snap you out of it.” You spot the cinema up ahead and quicken your pace, wanting to avoid whatever awkwardness this entire exchange is.

“Well, I’ll update you on what happens,” You say, hands grazing the cool metal of the fire escape’s railings. You risk a look at him, only to find that he’s already staring. 

Neither of you looks away.

The beep of your phone signals a message, serving as a medium for you to snap out of whatever the hell this staring contest is. You clear your throat, checking your phone to see a message from your date for tonight. 

“Well, looks like I gotta go.” 

You begin to walk down the stairs, but you’re stopped by a hand grasping your elbow. You turn back, looking into conflicted auburn brown eyes. You raise your brows, waiting for Donnie to speak first. 

“I- uh,” He stammers, eyes darting all over the place. His hands are clammy, and you could easily tug your arm away from him.

But you choose not to, waiting patiently in silence. 

He’s scrambling for words to form a coherent sentence, and the corner of your lips tugs up into an amused smirk. If you didn’t know better, you’d have assumed that he’s trying to confess to you or something along those lines.

But there’s no way, obviously. 

 “It’s nothing.” he finally says, meeting your gaze with a newfound resolve. You’re surprised by the sudden change in attitude, your arm falling to your side when he lets go. You’re…oddly disappointed. 

“Okay…” Your steps are unsure, casting another look over your shoulder every few steps, almost as if you’re waiting for him to call you back – to stop you. Once you’re at the bottom, however, you look back up at the shadowed figure on the rooftop, watching him turn and leave the way you came. 

Your heart grows heavier with each step away, glancing back into the empty alleyway before taking a deep breath and standing upright, rolling your shoulders back. You couldn’t have a date like this. It’d be disrespectful. You enter the cinema, looking around for Josh. 

“Hey,” You greet Josh with a warm smile, walking up to the blonde head of hair you spot easily in the crowd. He moves away from the wall he’s leaning against, sliding his phone into his jacket pocket. 

“Hey,” He grins, handing you a small bouquet of flowers. It looked clumsy, the ribbon slightly messy. It looked handmade. His eyes are anxious, seeking yours for some form of validation. 

“Josh…” It’s too sweet of him, really. Your heart melts at the flush on his cheeks, accepting the flowers with a bashful smile. You take a moment to admire them, fingers brushing against the delicate petals. You look back at him, realising he’d dressed up for today.

He coughs, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a nervous smile. “Shall we?” He offers his arm out to you. You glance back at the entrance, your smile faltering when you remember Donnie’s gone. However, those thoughts are banished from your mind with a quick shake of your head.

You take Josh’s arm, and the both of you chat away as you walk to the theatre hall where the movie’s showing. The date is relatively peaceful, and you find yourself enjoying every moment. Josh is sweet, kind, and everything you could ever want.

But he’s not Donnie.

That in itself is enough to bring on a crushing weight on your chest, finding it hard to continue brushing off the wistful glances and goofy smiles Josh sends your way. Finally, the date ends where it began, having made casual conversation in the cafe next to the cinema’s entrance. 

Now’s the hardest part.

“Josh…Listen,” You’re caught off guard when he smiles, eyes hinting at the fact that he knows what’s about to be said. His hand rubs the back of his neck, a soft chuckle falling from his lips. 

Honest and sincere blue eyes meet yours, and the words die in your throat. But he nods, a silent encouragement for you to continue. God, how could you do this to someone so sweet? 

“I’m sorry,” You start, cheeks burning in shame. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done, and I really hope we can continue to be friends still… Would that be okay…?” 

He’s silent for a moment. “Sure. I’d like that.” He replies breathlessly, though his words are resigned. Your heart feels as if it’s torn in two, but he catches your eyes, smiling lightheartedly. “He must really be something, huh.”

“Yeah.” You manage a nod. 

“Well, I hope everything works out for you. You can keep the flowers, by the way.” He gestures at the bouquet you’ve placed on the table. “They made you smile, and I’m happy enough with that.”

If you didn’t already feel horrible for turning down a gentleman like him, you definitely feel awful now. “Thank you. I enjoyed today.”

He stands up, hands in his pockets as he flashes you a grin.

“No problem.”

— — — — — — — — —

He wants to stop you. To tell you never to go near this ‘Josh’ guy ever again. 

He pauses, steps slowing to a halt when he sees you smiling at something the attractive boy beside you quips. 

This is wrong.

You didn’t have a thing for blue eyes. You preferred earthy tones. You preferred him.

Donnie watches you wave goodbye, walking past the alleyway he’s hiding in. You’re a few steps away from passing it. His heart stings in his chest, sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth with a wince. 

You’re about to leave.

He feels nauseous. His stomach lurches slightly, the sensation enough to make him feel horrible. He didn’t understand why he felt this way, only that he was sure he’d lose you forever if he let you go now.

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, vaguely registering hurried steps, his arms reaching out to you. You turn at that exact moment, catching a glimpse of him in the corner of your eyes before he sees his hand wrap around your wrist.

You’re tugged back, falling into Donnie’s arms as your back presses against his plastron. Your breath hitches in your chest at the sudden contact. You don’t dare to look behind you. 

You’re scared of what you’ll see. 

You feel him inhale shakily, his warm breath sending tingles down your spine. His fingers curl around your wrist, holding it firmly. His touch is electrifying, but you dare not break the silence. 

Your cheeks warm when he moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you flush against him. You can’t take it anymore; you’re sure your face is the exact colour of the traffic light only a few feet away. 

You part your lips, afraid to let even a single word slip past them. Maybe your voice will come out shaky. You swallow thickly, willing your heart to stop beating so goddamn loudly in your chest. You hesitate.

“Donnie?”

— — — — — — — — —

tags:

@cowabunga101

@urfavarab

@mellytumbles

@etherealyblue

@shakeyourtrees

@theblindhag

@mikavoltron

@creat0r-cat

@gingerdraw-blog

[adobe-outdesign]

Could you review the Eyrie? They're one of my favorite Neopets.

(Note: I don't have any Pokemon review requests right now, so I'm doing one extra Neopet review to backlog through those a bit.)

I always thought Eyries were really nice-looking pets. They're basically griffins, but with these really distinct owl-like feathery "ears" on their head that have edge markings dividing the front from the side. It gives them a really nice head shape when combined with the beak, and the overall anatomy is surprisingly realistic (wings are a bit off technically speaking, but that's okay). Like out of all the Neopets, Eyrie are one of a few that you could picture IRL without many changes.

In addition to the head markings, they also sport several lighter areas on their wings and tail, along with a thick fluffy mane that's usually darker but not always (even the base colors don't have this consistent). These break up the body in classic Neopets style and make it easy to read. Their beaks are traditionally orange, which is accented by their eyes so the color is carried through.

Eyries are one of a few species that benefited from customization. Their old art wasn't bad, but the wings were all wrong (they were going backwards against the body lengthwise for some reason, and were halfway down the torso instead of coming out of the mane) and elements like the mane shape and tail position look a lot better. Otherwise, the changes were minimal.

Favorite Colours:

Chocolate: The chocolate Eyrie does everything you want it to do. Whipped cream for the areas with long fur, wafer wings, chocolate swirl ears, white chocolate accents, and some fancy decorative filigree markings. It is completely over-the-top and looks delicious. My only nitpick is that the waver texture is flat, when it should go back in space at an angle and have more of a bend to it.

Darigan: The Darigan Eyrie honestly doesn't event look that different than the regular Eyrie, but it does emphasize how well griffons work as vaguely demonic high-fantasy creatures. While subtle, changes include a different beak shape, more fur, extra-thick wings, a fluffier mane that goes behind the head, and giant claws.

Both the converted and UC/styled versions are fine, though they have their pros and cons. The converted version looks a bit too much like a normal Eyrie due to the change in pose, and the lose of the spearhead tail-tip and subtle feather wing textures is criminal. However, it is much better shaded than the UC version, and it fixes some of the janky anatomy like the weird fold in the wings and the screwed up haunch and foreleg.

Maraquan: A lot of Maraquan pets nowadays tend to be based off of specific aquatic animals, and while that's fine, I really like it when they just take the base Neopet and adapt it to living underwater in a more abstract way. Such is the case of the Maraquan Eyrie, which has pretty fin-like wings, fins on the head instead of feathers, a swisy, extra furry tail, and a beautiful orange and blue color scheme. Little details, like the speckles and the lighter orange on the underbelly and paws, dd a lot to the design, and the whole thing flows beautifully.

It has a UC/styled version, though the differences are fairly negligible. The UC version has a slightly better pose, high-contrast thick and thin lineart, a wavier mane, and a better head shape. However, the converted version is still pretty spot-on, and it fixes the wing anatomy by putting them on the shoulders where they belong (Neopets artists learn to draw wings challenge) (impossible). In other words, both are great.

[britany1997]

I’ve decided I’m back now lol

Couple of notes with that:

-originally, I thought it would be easier to just wait till after finals, but I turned my first draft in, and I have been inspired lately, and I DID actually finish writing a fic soooo… I don’t want to wait to post it and it probably makes more sense for me to come back now

-I’m not taking requests for a while, maybe months. I’m gonna finish up some stuff I have already that I’ve been working on, then I’m just gonna write what I want to write. For the characters I want to write for too. Definitely some TLB stuff coming, but I wanna write for Steve, Spike, and maybe others too.

-I’m doing this very much on my own schedule and at my own pace so that I don’t feel pressured to write, so my writing doesn’t feel like an obligation, and so I don’t prioritize it over anything else in my life. This started as a hobby for me and I want it to go back to being that. Just writing for fun

-I reserve the right to change my mind and leave whenever I feel like it’s too much for me, not good for my mental health, or I don’t have time with school (I’ll probably take another, much shorter break in April/May around finals🤷🏻‍♀️)

-I’m not gonna be on here all the time or interacting as much as I did in the past. I don’t have the time. I still wanna read and reblog stuff though, so you’re still welcome to tag me. I’ll just have to get to it when I can. Same for responding to asks. (I actually have a backlog of asks I mean to reply too lol)

-on that note, I’ve been gone for a while, so mutuals, you can retag me in stuff y’all have written so I can go back and read it and reblog it. (Please don’t feel pressured to do so though)

Tagging some author mutuals so I can read their stuff: @6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @crustyboypix @bloodywickedvamp @auntvamp @darlingverse @luv4fandoms @anna1306 @chiefdirector @david-powers-simp @dwaynedelight @sad-ghost-of-garbage @henhouse-horrors @kurt-nightcrawler @phantomenby @prettywhenibleed @darlingverse @michael-after-hours @gothamslostboy

(If I didn’t tag you and we’re mutuals you can still retag me if you want). I probably won’t be able to read everything all at once, but I plan to go through it all.

I think that’s everything, happy to be back:)

[wyn-n-tonic]

Books by Black Authors for Black History Month!

I wanted to share a list of books I love and books that I'm looking forward to reading that are by Black authors in acknowledgement of Black History Month. I feel like a lot of my fellow readers (especially my fellow white readers) always go into a, kind of, reading slump in February and I don't know if that's because the month of January is just ten years long that February feels like a hangover or if it's because they feel the desire to read books by Black authors but then the majority of what is marketed is usually books that are steeped in trauma or nonfiction books. And, like, yeah, nonfiction books are so important but when they're the only kind of book marketed it can make finding the other kinds of books that much harder but I believe that if you read the fun books and the happy books and the fantasy books it will make you want to seek out the nonfiction resources. I'm blabbering so long story short, I thought I would make a little list to do some of the legwork for my fellow readers to find stories that they can check out.

I used GoodReads links (and one StoryGraph) link, you can choose who to purchase from yourself (although I will suggest BookShop.org as your purchase does go towards indie bookstores, I also really like the Libby App which is just your library and it works with your Kindle/Nook/Kobo/iPad). All authors that I have included in this are American or have strong ties to the USA which is why I did not include authors such as Bolu Babalola, Talia Hibbert, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie but I do highly recommend checking them out if you haven't because they do write gorgeously.

Kennedy Ryan has an extensive backlog and beautiful writing, beautiful prose. She had a book called Before I Let Go (Skyland #1) come out in November 2022, it is a second chance romance between a married couple. It has been on my shelf forever, the cover is beautiful and I've heard nothing but truthfully incredible things. I have listened to snippets of the audiobook but keep putting off getting the actual audiobook because Kennedy is the kind of author I want to read the grammar, syntax, wording of everything from. This book actually got optioned to be adapted into a television show and there's a second Skyland book coming out in March called This Could Be Us that has the ARC readers going wild.

Jasmine Guillory is one of my favorite authors. She is a Bay Area native and has a law degree from Stanford. Not only do I think that she writes beautifully but I cannot even describe to you the way that I kick my little feet and twirl my hair. I feel like my favorite of hers changes. Up until a few weeks ago, I would've told you that Olivia Monroe in Party of Two was my favorite Jasmine girly but I listened to Royal Holiday to kick off my reading for January and Vivian Forest is such a beautiful character. She's a 56 year old Black woman who is a veteran social worker who thinks it's too late for her on several fronts and then she gets swept off her feet while on a vacation with her daughter AND THE ROYAL FAMILY. What?! I also think that Jasmine writes, like.... character appropriate sex scenes if that makes sense. Like, Vivian's scenes are more reserved than Olivia's were, Vivian's more closed door than Olivia's were. She also has a Beauty and the Beast inspired book called By The Book and I kept texting my friend the entire way through and then made her buy a copy so she could text me right back with all her thoughts. Amazing. I love her.

You want cozy fantasy romance with monsters and happy Black women being loved by their hot monster lovers? Kimberly Lemming has GOT YOU COVERED.

Plugging my new author friend P.J. Leigh and her book Olawu. She actually responded to my request for some indie author recs on Threads and sent me a copy of Olawu that will be here on Friday and I'm so excited. She describes it as: "Set in precolonial East Africa with romance, action, sisterhood, found family, and a feisty but flawed female lead." I cannot wait to dig into this one.

Another author who messaged me is indie author Quiana Glide. Her bio is that she is an unabashed fangirl and her books feature pregnancy trope, cosplay, professional wrestlers and cafe owners solving murders. Her books sound fucking great and they are available on Kindle Unlimited for my KU girlies (gender neutral).

Celestine Martin messaged me as well and she writes paranormal romance with Black witches, emo mermen and fae princes. I tripped over myself running to my Libby app to place a hold on the audiobook.

25 to Love! by Joye Johnson is another one available on Kindle Unlimited for my KU girlies (gender neutral). The synopsis is: "TV's hottest dating show is '25 to Love!'. To nab a guy from her past, Lola signs on as the token girl of color. All's fair in love and ratings--can a week on TV get Lola closer to the one that got away?" You know what I love? Second chance romances, besties, that's right.

Splinter by Jasper Hyde was another I was recommended. Jasper writes paranormal, LGBTQ+ books. Jasper Hyde is a pen name for Georgina Kiersten who also goes by Rian Fox. The pen name denotes the subgenre that they write. Georgina does go by they/them pronouns and writes plus sized rep and neurodivergent rep too.

Kelly Cain. That's it. That's the tweet. THE EVERHEART BROTHERS SERIES????? If you know anything about me, you know that I have a hearing issue and so I've used audiobooks before but I never really clicked with them or got the hype. Turns out I had boring ass narrators (look I did the audio version of a lot of nonfiction books I had to read about old dead white guys in college so of course I had that feeling). THE EVERHEART BROTHERS AUDIOBOOKS ARE WHAT CHANGED ME. Deanna Anthony, the narrator, is so engaging and I didn't feel like I was listening to an audiobook, I felt like I was sitting across the table at brunch having a gossip session with my bestie. If you read it and you didn't like it, that's fine, but I didn't lie to you and enjoyment of art is subjective but also you're wrong and argue with a wall.

I've been seeing a lot of talk lately about Pride & Protest by Nikki Payne. This is a Pride & Prejudice and one of the reviews says, "If you ever wanted P&P to feel more like watching a swoony, steamy episode of Insecure, this is the book for you."

Currently, I am reading You Made a Fool of Death With Your Beauty by Akwaeke Emezi. It deals with themes of grief and romance and also bisexual representation. Absolutely beautiful prose. Akwaeke is Nigerian and has been in the USA since college. They are non-binary and go by they/them pronouns.

I also cannot end this list without mentioning Memphis by Tara M. Stringfellow. This follows three generations of a southern Black family in the neighborhood of Douglass in Memphis, TN (I was born a couple miles away in Raleigh) . Now, this book does have quite a few trigger warnings that I won't put here but I do encourage you to READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS before you purchase this book as it does deal with some pretty heavy subject matter.

I'm also going to end this by saying to keep an eye out for anything done by my best friend, the person who I have shared so many amazing, beautiful, life changing experiences with ALL OVER THE WORLD for the last fourteen years: Isana Skeete (Isana does not use pronouns). If you look at the GoodReads account for Isana that I linked, you'll see lists made with recommendations of books with queer POC rep and asexuality representation.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hey, I was just wondering, how soon after you get an ask are you able to begin the piece requested? I was just wondering because, while I am on teeny, tiny, smol level compared to you (awesome, huge, and amazing level), I dabble with writing (very short) pieces on here, and I’ve gotten a couple requests here and there while also working on my own ideas. I don’t want to keep people waiting too long, but I also don’t want to rush myself any more than necessary. Any advice?

On tumblr? I have nearly 2000 asks at this point, so I make no promise of fulfilling any requests. I've had some for years. I'm always OPEN to requests because I'm personally okay with having that backlog. But realistically, I have days of the week where I have the time and capacity to write something, and I pick one that I'm in the mood for then. If having a large backlog makes you uncomfortable, you can always set a limit on how many requests you have before you tell people you're closed for while as you work through them.

Ultimately, a request is just a request on tumblr. They're fun to do and nice to get, but you'll find you end up with a natural pattern to how much you can reasonably do whilst meeting other commitments and maintaining a life balance. Writing takes as much time as it takes. That's true regardless of how many requests you have or what level you are at. You will always have a cap because writing takes time and effort.

So, communication is key in setting expectations regardless of what specific expectation you set.

On Patreon, I try to work through requests more strictly based on tier and chronological order of when they come in. I make sure I budget as much writing time as i can each month, whereas tumblr is more take it or leave it. Again, though, I can't magic myself more time than I'm capable of as a writer, so it depends how large the volume of requests is on how long it takes to reach x story in the queue. I aim to take no longer than 2-3 months for the average request.

I hope that helps?