#Just so we're clear about that

[gingermintpepper]

I have a ton of assorted Hyapollo writing laying around that I'm never going to do anything with so instead, I will make it my tumblr's problem. The text itself is below the cut!

Rating: G Content Warnings: Athletic nudity, Hyacinthus is pining hard

Setting: A gymnasium in the mid-afternoon. Hyacinthus has watched Agreus-Apollo wrestle for the better half of the hour. None have managed to best him, including Thamyris who very valiantly tried. Now, Hyacinthus helps him wash up. The topic strays to Hektor's very expressive wooing of Andromache.

"I always forget how close you are to Hektor." Hyacinth hums, runs his palm across the breadth of Agreus' shoulders. He knows he will not find any scratches or bruises - none had managed to pin Agreus even fleetingly - yet still, he searches. Agreus is so warm beneath him. "That he is more your brother than your friend."

"What difference does it make?" There are faint bands of dark pigment staining just beneath Agreus' shoulder blades. Hyacinth picks at the lines running parallel to his spine. Agreus' breath hitches just like he knew it would - he's playing now, leading Agreus further away from mere routine and stumbling down into something far more dangerous but Agreus isn't stopping him.

His friend tilts his head, exposes the length of his neck to him. Laughs like he doesn't know what Hyacinth is trying to do with his fingers scraping against his unpainted back, like he could ever feign obliviousness when Hyacinth is practically crowding him like a dog in heat. "It means you are more prone to following in his footsteps. That you are more likely to agree with his impropriety." Hyacinth's hand freezes right there, stuck to the small of Agreus' back like the breath suddenly caught in his throat. Surely, that was - The man puts a single step of distance between them and Hyacinth feels his lungs deflate. Of course, his approach was without finesse and lacked respect. There was never any guarantee that Agreus was doing more than flirt, after all. Said man unpins the great length of his hair, back still turned to Hyacinth. The gold of his curls against the warm brown of his skin, the way his fingers skillfully comb through the strands, setting them right without ever seeming to preen. Hyacinth wanted him. He wanted all of him. Yet he was stuck in place, hand still outstretched in the shape of the curve of his great back. He swallows, hard and dry and tentative, "You are not swayed by Hektor's speeches, then? You also think the Saint-King of llium is nothing but a love-stricken fool?" And like a golden tempest, suddenly Agreus is upon him again, crowding him, standing chest to chest with him, stomach to stomach. He's blindingly hot against Hyacinth's flesh, and when his nimble hands settle upon Hyacinth's hips, they sear his skin like brands. "I said nothing about disliking your battle-brother's pastimes, Hyacinthus." And oh, he's meeting Hyacinth's gaze directly, the already paper-thin veil of master-and-servant burning to ash between them with just the utterance of his name. Hyacinth feels as though there are birds trapped within his chest, like his bones will leave his body if he does not kiss Agreus or Agreus him - but when that incorrigible man leans in, when his lip brushes against the trembling bow of Hyacinth's lip, it is merely to laugh. "Besides, what shame is there in being a besotted fool?" He pats Hyacinth's ass - both cheeks at once - returning the playful pinching with a smack that echoes in the empty room around them, then puts true distance between them. "Go towel off," he sighs when Hyacinth continues to stare at him, owl-eyed and foolish and with cheeks that burn so hot he is sure Agreus must think it sunburn. "I'll paint your face when you've cleaned off the oil." The birds in Hyacinth's chest are breaking their wings against his ribs. He knows dismissal when he hears it. He doesn't understand why Agreus' words feel nothing like it.

A little later: Agreus-Apollo is out under the stars. Hyacinthus joins him after dinner, still mulling over the ambivalence of their afternoon encounter.

"Did you mean it?" Agreus' eyes are so blue they're silver under the starlight. He turns to Hyacinth, reed between his lips and stares at him, waiting patiently for Hyacinth to get the rest of his words out. "When you said there was no shame in being besotted. Is that truly what you think?" Agreus simply looks at him. Scrutinises him like he's testing the sincerity of his words - like he can see clear to the anxiousness bubbling up in Hyacinth's heart. Then, he takes the reed from his mouth and sets it in the grass beside him, sliding closer to Hyacinth so they're pressed shoulder to shoulder, so Agreus' pinky kisses Hyacinth's. "Are you asking what I think of Hektor or what I think of you?" And oh, this man will never cease to be a wonder. Will never stop defeating Hyacinth at every turn, will never stop bewitching him with the clarity of his voice, the gentleness of his gaze, the sharpness of his tongue. He knows. Of course, he knows, he's Agreus and it is like Hyacinth could never be anything but knowable and familiar to him, like they shared the same heart, the same desires, the same love. Hyacinth meets that gilded stare of his, shuffles his hand even closer until his fingers lay atop Agreus'. The weight of them draws Agreus' bright stare down to their commingled hands and he looks at them as though trying to solve a puzzle. "I would like to think I know very well what you think of me." Agreus hums, absentminded and far. "Who knows." He tests the weight of Hyacinth's hand over his, wiggling his fingers, rotating his wrist. Hyacinth remains firm, studies Agreus' face for signs of frustration or offense. It never comes. Instead, Agreus huffs, sliding his fingers out from under Hyacinth's grip then quickly interlocking their hands, palm to palm, finger nestled against finger. "The mind of the infatuated sees shapes where there are merely suggestions, Hyacinthus. Be cautious." And then he brings their braided hand to his lips and kisses the back of Hyacinth's palm. And Hyacinth wants to dig him into the dewy grass and kiss him. Wants to swallow up the wisdom he offers and kiss his tongue mute. Wants to see what shade of blue his eyes will be when they reflect the dark red of Hyacinth's hair and not the pallour of the moon and her stars. He wants, he wants, he wants. "Those are my only words of advice for you. From one besotted fool to another." Hyacinth very carefully does not look at Agreus then. He does not know what he would do. He does not know if he could stop himself if he were forced to see that affection laid plain on Agreus' most calm face.

[evgar]

kiss of death

graphite and watercolors on paper

[inkskinned]

love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.

love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.

love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.

love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.

maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.

recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.

[gil-estel]

loving the acolyte's take on "what if anakin skywalker was twin girls"

[juney-blues]

"a system of oppression can exist but there can be no meaningful distinction between those who enforce it and those who are subject to it" is an absolutely incomprehensible take to have just so we're clear

[crabsnpersimmons]

exam 5 for me... tomorrow!

honestly have been feeling really nervous for this exam since my classmates have either failed it or just barely passed. and i had less time to study this time around because i rushed to book the exam.

so i drew this little encouragement early cuz i need the reminder that no matter what happens tomorrow, i did what i could and i didn't compromise on my boundaries—and that is its own victory.

and i hope that you'll be reminded to celebrate your own big and small victories too!

"You are nervous and that's okay! You did your best! You set boundaries! You took breaks! We're so proud of you, Starlight! Whatever happens, we'll always be here, cheering you on!"

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

I wanna laugh and say the Ghost/ExAid movie was the most un-serious thing i've ever seen but it was actually so stressful. Nice job writers!!

Putting this one under the cut cause I gave up on it lol:

[fluentisonus]

[skrunksthatwunk]

kurama has access to forbidden strains + shiori wedding shenanigans

[deoidesign]

Portrait of a vampire

Photo of a werewolf (who doesn't trust cameras)

As a treat I like to paint my characters realistically from time to time... so I can see them...

Webcomic

[hotwaterandmilk]

An IRL friend of mine recently suggested I cut back on posting content because "maybe a dozen or two dozen people" like my posts and they weren't sure why I bothered when there was no money or engagement in it.

I definitely felt a bit like that a few years back, particularly when I'd see people repost my scans on other platforms and get tens of thousands of likes. If I'd shifted platforms and focused on engagement that could well have been me.

However, that's not really what I've ever been about. I share what I share because I like it and want other people who like these works to enjoy what I have in my collection too (or to discover new works they might not have encountered). Nobody has to engage with what I post though, I could get 0 likes/reblogs and I'd still keep plugging away because ultimately this is just a hobby and I'm just a fan.

I don't want to harp on with the cheesy "you should do things for yourself first and foremost" with hobbies, but at the end of the day my affection for certain series and artists won't evaporate just because my posts about them aren't popular on Tumblr.

I've been here for 14 years and have only just hit 10,000 followers. I'm not an important internet person by any stretch of the imagination and I think that's OK. If I'd been angling for something beyond simply being a fan of certain things, I can see how this might be considered failure. For me (personally) though, I don't feel like my hobby needs to have any form of hustle attached to it. This is what I do to express my affection for things.

Not everyone will feel the same way as I do about sharing content online and that's fine, we're all individuals and we engage with things differently. I just wanted to express this while the thoughts were still fresh in my mind.

Enjoy your hobbies in the ways that work for you. You'll find people who appreciate your contributions (big or small) wherever you go online and if you move onto different fandoms or hobbies, you'll find new folks who like what you do there too. Just don't feel locked into numbers as the ultimate way of judging your own love for media.

[vegaseatsass]

Someone tell me why I'm in between catching up on 10 different television series many of them quite excellent, but the only thing I want to post about is Tay saying "Gun's not into gaming, so when New and I play videogames he teases us for attention and we have to include him so OBVIOUSLY we kiss back!!!" and "Gun is like this with Off too but he sees him all the time so he misses us more and when he sees us we HAVE to sniff each other" and Tay and New saying "we were raised differently than Gun [very rich subtext here] but he likes skinship and now that he's part of our gang we've all changed and we all like skinship" and Tay saying "we've been this way for 10 years, fan scolding may stress out a younger group of acting friends and convince them to keep their distance but you're not going to change us, we're like this and we're going to stay like this"

[sandushengshou]

mxtxnet's october event | day 1: food & drink

[the-way-astray]

whenever i see someone here say "[character from kotlc] would listen to taylor swift" i take level 100000000 psychic damage

[mohntilyet]

Personal headcanon about the "you picked the wrong dellamorte" line, I don't think illario actually likes rook outside the context of them being someone close to lucanis. Like rook on their own isn't much to him, but when they meet it's yet another person talking about his cousin (why isn't he good enough for whatever job they're hiring for?) and on top of that they somehow bring him back from the dead (another whole can of worms for illario). Now he starts turning on the charm, but whether he's actually interested or this is just one more thing his cousin has that he doesn't and it gets under his skin, who knows. Either way, rook ignores illario, the guy who lives off his charm, and is instead interested in the guy who's never even dated before and thinks giving someone a knife is how to flirt. Infuriating

NO THANK YOU !! i am genuinely sorry if i have ever implied illario is into rook like i see some takes about it and unless it like ties into your rook's personal backstory i don't seriously think he's romantically jealous. at all. my enjoyment of that line stems from illario's pathological need to make it about himself and not see his strengths but what lucanis has, and therefore what he doesn't. he's annoyed enough to try and goad you in the middle of a fight about the 'wrong' dellamorte and completely blind to the fact that the venatori are at best, a stupid fucking alliance, and at worst, a cult that will devour the crows from the inside out and illario would have been the one to give them the keys. he sees lucanis make allies, needs his own, and instead of charming the other talons/houses as he should, he (probably spitefully) picks the venatori. or maybe he just thought it would be easier. ugh he makes me want to telekenetically throw him around

[kweenkday]

Kind of obsessed with the thought of Neil as some sort of revenge angel. Using his inheritance money and his connection to Stuart to avenge the Foxes and off everyone who hurt them.

Obviously, he starts with Proust and Grayson because fuck. them. all the way to hell. He gets rid of a few of Matt's father's friends, maybe kicks his ass a little, too. Arranges unfortunate accidents for a few gang members from the gang Renee was involved with. Ruins Allison's parents. Finds the owner of that club Dan worked at who mistreated her and breaks a few bones. Gets Nicky's parents thrown to jail and burns that conversion camp to the ground. Aaron, you ask? Well...

Aaron: I mean... I feel excluded.

Neil: I didn't order a hit in Kevin's name either, don't be dramatic.

Aaron: 🥺

Neil: Your mother is already dead.

Aaron: 🥺

Neil: I don't know what to tell you, man, be grateful Andrew's around so I don't order a hit on you?