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#until tomorrow friends!
nocaptainonthisship · 5 months
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The Festive Seasoning
Advent 2023
Haladriel (M)
Galadriel Noldor is a talented chef, with a cowboy-cute boyfriend who drives her up the wall.
Halbrand Mairon is a cutthroat TV producer, with a small-town pretty girlfriend who makes him a little crazy.
Celeborn Sindar is a dedicated data reconfiguration specialist, with an arrestingly gorgeous girlfriend who makes his life hell.
Shelob Webb is a gifted textile artist, with a cunningly-charming boyfriend, who makes her question everything- but most of all herself.
Or: a slanted Hallmark AU where one person’s villain is another’s hero.
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themeeplord · 1 year
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*Low purring*
They can purr, end of discussion.
As always, this is fanart of the wonderful @naffeclipse‘s Cryptid Sightings.
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tiger-balm · 1 month
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dewey cam | leafs @ caps | march 20th 2024
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transvampireboyfriend · 8 months
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part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8
When they get to the lake an hour later, Eddie is the first to come spilling out of Steve's car.
He walks several paces away from it, tuning out the post-drive chatter of his friends, his arms stretching above his head as he walks closer to the lake, stopping a few feet away from its shore.
Eddie inhales deeply, enjoying the fresh air and admiring the sunrays twinkling on the water. He can feel them on his bare arms too.
So.
Maybe the world won't end because he said a bit too much about how good he thinks Steve Harrington is.
Steve came out to them last year, on a sunny afternoon when they'd all been lazing around, reading magazines on Steve's living room after spending all day in his pool. Nancy and Eddie were arguing about how hot some actor was.
Eddie can't remember who it was now, but what he does remember is Steve casually saying "I can settle this argument, lemme see", and crawling on all fours to where Eddie and Nancy were laying practically on top of each other.
They must have worn the same perplexed expression when Steve declared "He's hot", because he then took a look at both of them and shrugged, said "I like both. I like whoever" and that had been that.
So Eddie knows Steve would not make a big deal over him basically saying he finds Steve attractive, but he's still worried, because their sexualities don't automatically mean Steve will like him like that and Eddie would never assume that, but now Steve might think he did.
He looked uncomfortable in the car and it's the only explanation Eddie can come up with.
And Steve's never been particularly receptive of Eddie's gestures, Eddie tried flirting a few weeks after Steve came out and Steve froze, whenever Eddie pays him a compliment Steve gets a little weird like he did in the car, Eddie's tried asking him to do stuff together like go on a hike, or Eddie teaching Steve to play guitar or he's even asked him to dance but Steve almost always backs down when the activity involves touching Eddie.
And it's fine. Eddie can understand, he's not everyone's type, it's cool. He just wishes he could shake the attraction off, but so far he's had no luck. If anything he only feels more attracted to Steve with every day they spend together.
And Eddie doesn't want to make him uncomfortable.
So Eddie needs to be careful not to let it show too much, because then Steve would feel forced to verbally reject him and Eddie just knows that Steve would hate that, not to mention he would be devastated himself.
Steve can't know.
After all Eddie said in the car, he'd been thinking maybe it had been a terrible idea to come along on a week long trip to a remote cabin with Steve. He'd already shown too much of his hand by gushing about him to everyone who would listen, Eddie spent the whole trip kicking himself over it.
But, as a dragonfly circles him, Eddie thinks of his friends, and he decides he can be an adult about this. He'll clear things up and apologize if Steve's still uncomfortable and they'll have a normal week.
This is meant to be fun and he always does have fun with his friends, Steve included. He always has fun with Steve especially, and he won't let his dumb feelings ruin that.
Eddie listens to quick steps coming up behind him and then a small but firm hand slaps his back.
"Are you alright?" asks Nancy, coming to stand next to him.
Eddie scoffs, doesn't turn to look at her.
" 'Course I am," he supplies "why wouldn't I be?"
Nancy gives him a withering look.
She was the first to find out about his crush, already knowing Eddie so well within a couple of weeks of their friendship.
Eddie fondly rolls his eyes, finally looking at her.
"I'm fine." he assures her "It's fine."
He offers her a smile and turns back to the lake.
Nancy gives him a once over before she wraps her arm around his waist.
Eddie sighs into the touch, her warmth comforting even in the mid day heat.
"Don't lose my fucking scrunchie" she threatens.
Eddie chuckles "I promise I won't" he lies, probably.
"Stop making promises you can't keep." Nancy shoots, untangling from Eddie's side "We should get you your own."
"Maybe I could make some!" Eddie suggests, "To replace the ones I've lost,"
"How did we switch from you buying them to this?" Nancy asks, her mouth tilting into an amused smirk.
"Oh come on, this way is more fun!" Eddie protests, almost stomping his foot in his excitement.
"You don't know how to sew" Nancy reminds him.
"Do too!" he protests, thinking of his many customized jackets and jeans. Though, he'd never made something so delicate as Nancy's pretty hair accessories.
"And Buckley said she'd teach me!" Eddie concedes.
That startles a laugh out of Nancy, "Yeah, I'd like to see how that goes" she says.
"Oh, I bet you would" Eddie shoots back winking at her. He gets shoved for it.
"Shut up." Nancy demands, giggling.
As their laughter dies down and Eddie straightens up, Nancy turns to the lake.
"It's so pretty here" she comments, looking out at the forest tree line beyond the water.
"Sure is" Eddie agrees, watching birds fly by.
After a while Nancy slips her hand in his and interlaces their fingers.
"C'mon," she says "we're the designated lunch ladies"
"Oh?" Eddie asks, following as she tugs him along.
"Yup! Steve and Jonathan are unpacking and Rob and Argyle called dish duty"
"Thank god for that," Eddie quips
Nancy laughs "That's exactly what I thought"
part 3
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feroluce · 17 days
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Lucid Dreamer (1/2)
part 2
Gepard notices that it's been. Quiet lately. Like weirdly quiet. TOO quiet. He hasn't seen Sampo Koski in almost a week, which is about the longest he's ever been absent. And he is NOT worried. He's not! So what if they've been getting along more lately! So what if Gepard sometimes looks for him in his favorite hiding places! So what if he's been dreaming about blue hair and green eyes! It's nothing!!
But they're….strange, these dreams. Gepard doesn't usually remember what he's dreamt. It's out of his mind seconds within waking up. But these stick with him, they won't leave him be, they feel different somehow.
He dreams of Sampo bringing food to the frontlines and eating breakfast in his tent with him. Sampo always sneaks him extras. He dreams of chasing Sampo through the alleyways, Sampo sometimes letting himself be caught, Gepard sometimes catching him, and trying to ignore how it feels more like a game now more than anything else. He even dreams that Sampo tags along with him on one of his few civilian days. Sampo runs errands with him, prattles about inane bullshit while Gepard picks out groceries for the week, drags Gepard into some bakery he's never been to but he thinks Serval mentioned once.
And sometimes, it feels so close to reality, that Gepard half expects to see Sampo, shamelessly swaggering into the frontlines with all the guards' breakfast like his wanted poster wasn't only recently taken off the walls of Belobog. He's disappointed when it's always someone else instead. He tells himself his disappointment is ridiculous and if Sampo wants to go prowl around the Snow Plains or wherever he is, then fine. It's not any of his business.
…But it IS his job to investigate any unusual criminal activity relating to the frontlines. And the frontlines are Sampo's usual haunting grounds, and this is unusual activity, and Sampo IS technically a criminal, so it is absolutely part of his duty to look into this - is what Gepard tells himself the entire tram ride down into the Underground.
Natasha tells him he's gone, and Gepard has to steel himself. He knew Sampo made enemies wherever he went, there are a lot of people who would love his head on a platter, but he didn't think-
Natasha corrects him that she means literally gone. As in off-planet. Sampo always leaves her a note before he goes anywhere, so she knows not to expect any supply runs from him. He should be back in exactly two weeks. Thank the Preservation.
Gepard goes back home. He waits.
The uneasiness doesn't leave him.
"Where did you go?" Sampo stops dead in the middle of some story about Seele, and how you'd think someone with as blunt a mouth as her wouldn't have so much trouble asking a woman out, even if that woman IS the Supreme Guardian, and stares at him. He nearly fumbles his cigarette.
"Ahaha, what do you mean, I'm right here?" Sampo smiles at him the same way he always does. Gepard has no idea why he asked. It just popped out. He can never tell when Sampo is lying, anyway.
"I don't know. I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time." Gepard idly mouths at his own cigarette. He almost never smokes, but he wants to ration their stocks of Blizzard Immunity, and it helps with the cold. It's seemed colder lately, for some reason.
Gepard flicks his lighter once, twice, sighs at the third time because a metal prosthetic and thick gloves make the damn things so difficult. Sampo reaches over and wordlessly kisses the end of his cigarette to Gepard's, lighting it. "Thank you."
Nothing happens for almost a full 30 seconds. Something churns behind Gepard's ribcage. Because Sampo never leaves a "thank you" hanging. This is the part where he gives his spiel about how helpful and kind he is and Gepard either brings up how long his rap sheet was before Bronya helped clear his name, or just stares deadpan because seeing Sampo squirm is weirdly satisfying.
"…I'll be back in one more week."
Gepard jolts awake in his cot, mouth dry and eyes bleary.
The hell.
The next dream he has, Sampo looks tired. Sometimes he seems normal. Sometimes he says strange things, like how he wishes he'd gone to some restaurant in Belobog. Ate his favorite food more recently. Brought something with him. Gepard asks why he can't do that now. Where would he bring something? Sampo only shrugs. His rebuttals have less energy.
Gepard doesn't know if he wants to dream more, or less.
He ticks down the days on his calendar. Natasha hasn't told him any different. She promised she would if she got any kind of message. Sampo returns tomorrow, from whatever vacation or seedy business dealings he's been off having. He is not excited about it. He is not looking forward to it. He's not!!
Gepard falls asleep late that night, unable to settle. He dreams again.
He's alone. There are tons of people everywhere, the frontlines are always crowded. But he's alone. They all pass right by him as though he were a ghost. Gepard starts to walk before he realizes his feet are even moving.
He checks the trashcans in the dead end alley. He checks the supply crates that someone always stacks too high because they don't feel like finding more space for them. He pauses to check the soldiers that march past him, watching their footprints in the snow.
He finally finds Sampo on the rooftop along the northernmost wall, the one that looks out over the plains, towards Everwinter Hill, towards where the Stellaron had once been kept. With a full moon and an entire land of white snow, Gepard can almost see clear out to the horizon.
"Found you." Sampo stiffens, and Gepard is almost prepared for him to sprint off the roof. He doesn't. But he doesn't relax either. Gepard sits down next to him and stares out at the wastelands.
"…I fucked up." It wasn't what Gepard had been expecting. Sampo never 'fucks up,' Sampo just gets into incidents that are entirely, supposedly, not his fault and that he just happens to always be within the vicinity of.
"What did you do now?" It must be really bad if Sampo is coming to the Silvermanes for protection.
Instead, Sampo ignores his question completely. "See out over there? Right on the other side of that mountain. There's a safe house that way. It's hidden under a lot of snow and dead trees, but it's there. And in that safe house is a box full of letters. I need you to deliver those letters for me."
Gepard's brow furrows. It's a weird favor to ask. Sampo would never tell anyone where his hidden safehouses were. It defeated the whole purpose of a hidden safe house.
Something is wrong, something is really really wrong.
Gepard turns back to look at him again and startles, all of his questions dying in his throat, because the entire left side of Sampo's head is suddenly matted down, dark and sticky, his skin is dyed red red red-
"In three more months, there's gonna be something big happening." Gepard grabs Sampo's hand and it feels slick and warm against his palm. "I won't be here. So I need you to do my end of things for me." Gepard tries to keep hold, but something is fading, something is slowing, the sun is coming up but the colors are all wrong, everything feels like encroaching fog, Sampo's hand slides right through his. "I was gonna come back with my mask to finish setting the stage, but…" Gepard makes a frantic grab for Sampo's wrist, the air twists, he comes back empty-handed. "They have you. And you're the Iron Wall of Belobog. So it'll be ok."
Gepard finally manages to find his grip, snatches the front of Sampo's dark wet jacket and yanks him forward to hold onto him, and this close up, he can see it better, his colors are bleaching out, leaking outside the lines as if Sampo will become part of the background, as if he's fading into the strange fog that's been closing in on them. His fingers are already starting to feel empty again.
"Wake up."
Gepard jolts awake, uncurls his hands from where they're fisted in the blanket, scrubs the dampness off his face. Breathes. Breathes. Breathes. Today is supposed to be the day.
He throws on his civilian clothes, and he goes down to the shipyard the IPC had built. He finds a spot where he can see every person that returns to Belobog, and he waits.
And he waits and he waits and he waits.
No one he recognizes appears.
#sampard#gepo#hsr gepard#hsr sampo#gepard landau#sampo koski#honkai star rail#hsr#blood#my fics#lucid dreamer#there was more to this but it didn't feel right included here so part 2 tomorrow maybe?#I just think Penacony being the land of dreams presents some FASCINATING possibilities like showing up in other people's dreams#the end of masquerade duet killed me just beat me dead#Sampo going through all this trouble just to protect Belobog...#poor Ray got such an earful that night haha#In the Penacony dreamscape someone can change their appearance however they want but I think in this case where one of the dreamers AREN'T-#-on Penacony it would take more concentration to keep that illusion up#and if someone were say. hurt and badly bleeding. it would start to fall apart eventually as they lost their concentration.#but oh my heart#Sampo being away and missing Belobog so badly he shows up in his friends' dreams just to do the same mundane shit they always do...#He probably showed up to everyone#he sat around and kept Natasha company in her clinic. he pestered Seele until he provoked her into asking Bronya on a date.#he played one last song with Pela and Serval. he told them he'd always kept his old bass guitar.#he took Hook out on one last joyride on his scooter and he even let her sit up front and steer like she'd always wanted.#and he stood around to shoot the shit with Gepard#he got to go do things like run domestic errands together with him. as if they could have been something more than what they were at the en#it was nice to get the chance to do all that#it was nice
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expelliarmus · 2 years
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osamusriceballs · 5 months
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The Accident - Part VII
Atsumu x fem reader
Warnings: None
Words: ~ 2k
About: You talk to your mysterious friend and finally part from Atsumu.
Part I II -> Next part
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"It's me. I'm okay- please don't worry. I'll be back soon."
"Where have you been? I was worried sick; I've tried calling you all night! You just texted me that everything's alright at 4am, but what's going on? Where are you?"
The voice comes out of the phone, quickly and fast as always, and you hold the phone a bit further away from your ear. "Please, I'm okay, I promise!" You can hear a few deep breaths on the other side, probably the attempt to calm down, and then the voice speaks again.
"Where are you right now? I'll come and pick you up, and then you can tell me everything."
"I'm at the—" you hesitate and then look at the name on the towel and read it out loud. "Do you know where that is?"
"Give me a second." You hear typing noises on the other side and then a little gasp. "That's an expensive hotel! One night costs 500 bucks, and the suits are literally thousands of dollars per night!"
"What?!" you're speechless for a few moments, realizing just how much money Atsumu might own—you are in a suite after all and you definitely did not pay for it.
"It will take some time to get there. I'll be there in an hour? I'll send you my location. Is there someone else with you?" Your thoughts drift to Atsumu, and you hum. "Yes. And I need to ask for a favor. Do you have a lawyer? Or do you know someone who maybe knows someone who can help me with a divorce for cheap?"
"A divorce? Who needs a—wait. Are you talking about yourself? Did you get married?" The voice is so shrill and loud that you almost flinch, and you find yourself regretting revealing that fact already. "I'll tell you the details later. Please don't worry about me." You try to sound as calm and soothing as you can, and after a few shocked gasps, you hear silence again on the other hand. "Hello? Are you still there?"
"Yes. I'll come and get you, and then you'll have to tell me everything."
You agree, and after a few more times of you repeating that you'll be fine and that you're being taken care of, you hang up. You take a deep breath, and without thinking too much about it, you quickly undress and go into the shower.
It's like heaven. The warm water feels soothing on your skin, and there are more products in the shower than you have ever used so far, but you find yourself drawn to the pretty bottles and decide to spoil yourself. It's not your water bill after all, and if Atsumu is paying for it, you can go all out and spend a few more minutes in the shower. The towels are fluffy and warm, thanks to the towel warmer, and you find yourself pressing your face against the soft fabric and inhaling the fresh and clean smell. The mirror is foggy by now, you probably showered at too hot a temperature, but the warm water just felt so good on your skin.
A soft knock on the door brings your attention back to reality, and you find yourself stepping closer to the pompous wooden door. "Y/n? I put the clothes in front of the door. Samu and I will wait on the balcony; you can get them anytime."
"Thanks!" you respond and hear footsteps leaving the room and a loud sound that's probably the window closing behind them. You wait a few more moments just to be sure that they are gone, and then you open the door a little bit to take the small pile of clothes.
It's a shirt with the hotel name, surprisingly tasteful due to the minimalistic logo of the expensive establishment, as well as a matching pair of sweatpants as well as a pair of socks. The fabric is soft, and you quickly put on the new clothes, only regretting that you have to wear your old panties, but there is not much you can do about it.
You take one last look at your phone, quickly checking your appearance one last time, wishing you'd have the time to wash your hair too, but you'll do that when you're back in your hotel room. You're just glad that you feel clean and warm now.
You step out of the room, feeling a little better and more alive already, and look around. You find Atsumu and Osamu standing on the balcony, both of them busy in a heated discussion, and you watch them for a few moments from your position after you noticed that they are not looking in your direction yet.
They are undeniably related. You can find similarities in the way they speak, in the way they use they hands when they talk and in the way they stand. They are both very attractive—something that you can freely admire now that they haven't seen you yet.
A notification on your phone informs you that your friend will reach you in a few minutes, and when you look up, you see that the twins have stopped talking and instead watch you through the window in silence. You pause momentarily and then lift your hand to wave at them. Atsumu's eyes take in your new clothes, checking you out from head to toe, and he gives you an approving thumbs up and a grin. Osamu rolls his eyes at Atsumu and simply pushes the door open.
"Hey. I'm glad the clothes fit." He comments, and you look down at yourself at his words. "Yeah, me too. Thanks. I appreciate it a lot; I feel so much better already."
Atsumu also steps into the room again, making sure to bump his shoulder against Osamu's when he passes him, ignoring the curse of the dark-haired male.
"Ya look better already. Feelin' alright again?" His voice is still tinted with the slightest bit of concern, and you smile at his words.
"Yes, thank you. I'm sorry for being so weird before. I was just a bit overwhelmed." Atsumu shakes his head and buries his hands in his pockets. "Don't sweat it. That's normal. Gettin' married like this is a pretty unusual thing after all."
"Right. Uhm. My friend will pick me up soon; I'll get downstairs and wait there. I'll give you my number, and then you can call me as soon as you find out more?" You look at him questioningly, and he is quick to fish for his phone in his back pocket. "Sounds good. I'll wait with ya till yer friend arrives." He watches while you type in your number and quickly save it. "Oh, you don't have to. I'll find the way on my own, don't worry." You shake your head, but he quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to the door. "Nah, I insist. Where are your shoes?" You let him guide you, his arm around your shoulders feeling somewhat heavy but comforting while you look around for your high heels from last night. Atsumu guides you to the chair next to the door and ushers you to sit on it while he grabs the black shoes from the ground. "Do ya think they'll fit with the socks?" He asks with a frown, and you just shrug your shoulders as a response. "I hope so. I don't want to leave without socks; I don't even want to wear the shoes, to be honest."
His brows furrow while he looks at your feet. "Sorry, I wish we had some other shoes for ya." You quickly shake your head. "It's fine. It's just for the way downstairs. It's okay." He nods and kneels in front of you, and you subconsciously slide back on the chair as far as you can to create some distance between the two of you. "What are you doing?" He takes your left foot and places it on his thigh, and you feel every single muscle in your body tensing at the sudden contact. "Helpin' with yer shoes. Stay still for me."
You're at a loss for words while he slips the shoe on your foot; all you can do is stare at him while he secures it around your ankle. Surprisingly, it fits around your socked foot, and he nods before he lets go of your foot and reaches for the other. It doesn't take him long to get it on your foot too, and you shortly admire how skilled he is with his fingers, and then he places them both on the ground. "There ya go." He hums satisfied and gets on his feet, quickly offering you his hand to stand up. At this point, you just accept it and take his hand, allowing him to lead you to the door.
"Uhm. Bye, Osamu. See you. Maybe." You turn around and wave at the dark-haired twin who had made no attempt to come with you, and he nods acknowledgingly. "See ya."
You follow Atsumu through the door, who seems to be familiar with the hotel because he is quick to lead you to an outrageously big elevator. It's silent on the ride downstairs. You're standing each on different sides of the elevator, leaning against the walls, your bodies no longer touching. You don't really know what to say to him; you're too deep in thought right now, and he seems to feel somewhat similar.
"The exit is right there." He motions to the other end of the hall as soon as you get out of the elevator, and you hum while you follow him to the doors. You're lucky that there are barely people around because you certainly feel a bit underdressed with the clothes from the shop, but Atsumu doesn't even spare a glance to anyone you're passing. The receptionist greets you without batting an eye at your unusual attire; you're fairly certain that you both give a very unusual sight. Atsumu with his formal dress pants and half-opened dress shirt, and you with the hotel shirt and sweatpants and heels from last night. Surely not an everyday sight, but professionalism prevents her from looking longer at you.
It does not take long until you both stand in front of the hotel, just far enough from the entrance not to bother other guests but still close enough to see everyone who enters the building. You both stand there for a few moments in mutual silence, until you look up at him with a faint smile. "Thank you for showing me the way. I'll manage from here on. You can get back to Osamu; it's alright."
He frowns at your words and looks around.
"Can I really leave you here?" He looks a bit worried, and you nod with a tight smile. You really need some time to think about everything. "My friend will pick me up soon. You can go back to Osamu; it's fine, really!"
He hesitates for a second, probably not fully convinced that everything's fine, and the next thing you know is that his big arms surround you and pull you into a hug. You're stiff at first, unsure how you should react, but the comfort and familiarity that he is radiating by now makes it all too easy to melt into his touch and to hug him back. "Y/n. I meant it. I'll take care of ya, okay? Everything's gonna be alright. I'll make sure of that."
"Hmm." You hum against his shoulder, deeply inhaling his comfortable smell, and his grip tightens around you. "And if ya need anything—anything at all—call me. Anytime." You nod, hoping that he can feel your response and your gratitude because you don't trust your voice right now. You know you should probably pull back, but it feels too good to be in his arms, too good to be close to him, so you just stay, and he seems willing to let you.
"Y/n!" You hear someone yelling your name behind you, and you quickly pull yourself out of Atsumu's arms. You turn around and face a familiar face with big brown eyes which flicker from you to Atsumu with a surprised expression.
"Wait—Atsumu Miya? What are you doing here?"
Your jaw drops, and you turn your head back to Atsumu, who looks equally surprised to see your friend.
"You know each other?!"
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kaeyapilled · 10 months
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i dont think kaveh and alhaitham were romantically involved back in the akademiya. and in fact i believe that the repressed pining particularly from kaveh's part made their friendship breakup worse
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forkaround · 8 months
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MoD: BL or Not?
I'll throw my hat into this discourse too...
but first thank you @waitmyturtles for tagging me (true-unicorn-queen.) (forkaround is my side blog).
I'll be frank, I don't understand people's need to make any good BL into anything but a BL. They need to classify it into other genres or call it queer. Well honey, BL is queer. Boys are kissing boys and girls are kissing girls. What more queerness do you need?
I do not believe MoD can be called anything but a BL because of tropes. As a writer I know tropes are very flexible. You can put a single trope in romance, in high fantasy, in horror, in sci-fi, in crime drama. Those are not what make the identity of a show in a specific genre.
To me MoD is BL because it's gay. I knew going in that it WAS GAY.
To explain my point I want to give an example: If anyone here has seen Legends of Tomorrow or Legacies you will know that most of the cast on those shows is queer. About 7 - 10 people in each show are queer. But I still wouldn't consider them a BL. Not because of it's tropes or it's budget or it's writing but because of expectation.
When I started Legends I knew Sara Lance was bi from Arrow, but I also didn't expect her to end up with a woman or for there to be more queer characters brought on. When I started Legacies I knew Josie and Penelope had a thing from the blurb but I didn't expect the other characters to be queer as well.
But if I watch a show that's BL I know, going in, that the boys will kiss the boys and the girls will kiss the girls.
The default universe is a queer universe. They are all gay until proven otherwise and anything less will not be tolerated.
180 Degrees is a psychological, gothic, family drama but it's also a BL. Kinnporsche is a succession-style family drama set in the Mafia but it's a BL. Not Me is a political, activist drama but it's a BL. Only Friends is a realistic slice of (queer) life drama but it's a BL. Word of Honor is high fantasy Wuxia Drama but it's a BL.
Those other qualities do not change the fact they they are primarily a BL. That people tune into them for BL.
RWRB is a BL and shaking hands with The Next Prince.
BL is a tag to be used the way romance is, to signify that there will be romance between boys present. It's not a bad word and I wish people would stop using it as one.
So, yeah, Manner of Death is a BL.
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rubenesque-as-fuck · 5 months
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Ayyyyy look at this this very good octopal I painted today
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sneez · 9 months
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the other day i was looking through the drawings on my old laptop and found this self-portrait art challenge thing i did at some point several years ago, so i thought it would be interesting to update it with my current self for old times' sake :-) i don't know why i felt the need to be so mean to myself in all the descriptions but i have tried to be at least slightly nicer this time around. sorry past me [id under cut]
[id: a series of four full-body digital drawings of a pale-skinned person at different ages. the first three depict me in 2007, 2013, and 2017 under the heading 'George'; the fourth, in a different art style, depicts me in 2023 under the heading 'Ned (I changed my name)'.
the first drawing shows a young child with long hair wearing a fluffy pink jumper, a pink skirt, and pink shoes. bullet points above read:
annoying
copies other people constantly
draws cute animals
arrogant
cries when told off
maybe 1 friend
the second drawing shows a young teenager wearing a hoodie and trainers and looking uncomfortable. bullet points above read:
anxious
listens to Simon and Garfunkel exclusively
bad under pressure
anime
writes bad fanfiction
draws bad fanart
the third drawing shows a smiling teenager wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and brown boots. bullet points above read:
what the HELL is a Self Esteem
really into 60s music
cries a lot
0 fashion sense
usually dissociating
thinkin about trees
the fourth drawing shows a young man with messy brown hair, a striped brown shirt, a beige woollen tank top, and burgundy plaid trousers; he is leaning on a wood-textured folding cane and holding the strap of a brown leather satchel with his other hand. bullet points above read:
still no self-esteem but medicated now
significantly worse handwriting (wrist knackered)
I haven't changed much to be honest
RBF so severe I get followed around by the security guards at the supermarket
autism
end id.]
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sluttyten · 5 months
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My afraid-of-romance ass has just been asked by another regular customer for my number and the stupid thing is that again I do think this guy is kinda cute and I really probably should say yes
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girlbossblackbeard · 6 months
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happy 4 hours left till finale drop for all who are observing 🖤
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expelliarmus · 2 years
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dallonwrites · 1 year
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my autistic ass when i would try to explain to my non-autistic writer friends how my ocs don’t just feel like characters/plot devices/narrative tools, they feel like fully fledged people that just live inside my brain who i just have access to for some reason and the stories i write are merely a snapshot into their fully fledged personhood/lives. and that that these feelings don’t mean i’m unaware of my role/agency/responsibility as the writer who has the final say in these characters and how they are written it just means that my writing process feels very intuitive and i can only describe it as “listening” and “getting to know” these people that just live inside my brain in a way that i don’t feel like i can completely elaborate on. and because of this i would actually consider these characters “real” in their own way because the impact and influence they have had on me as a person beyond just my writing is so real and not having them would feel like i’m missing a part of myself 
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thedreadvampy · 10 months
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helped my friend move carried a bunch of boxes up the stairs was 1/2 of the Get The Sofa Upstairs team. killed it today on expressing love to my bestie (my love language is Lift Heavy Box Do DIY). offered to make their bed but we couldn't find the screws so I'm going back tomorrow bc they're a widdle baby twink who is not DIY confident 😘
then we had a lovely dyke time with the whole volunteer moving team on the beach with some beers and pizza ☺️
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good time had by all. also I flirted a tiny bit with someone I met at the moving party 👀 We're Developing As A Person
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