#had to write it had to had to had to

[chronicowboy]

It's late when they get back to Evan's loft, his boyfriend offering him sanctuary in what he's promised to be the most luxurious bed in all of Los Angeles and a strictly innocent no-hands-below-the-waist safe zone—which had been promised after Tommy had yawned for the seventh time (I've been counting, come home with me, let me take care of you). And Tommy's never been a very strong man when it comes to Evan, he'd discovered that pretty quickly, but right then he can't imagine anything better than sinking into his arms for the night, than waking up curled around him the next morning.

Except, as soon as the door closes behind them, Tommy finds himself wanting to make this night last a little longer. The dim lights in the kitchen cast Evan in a beautiful glow, shadows dancing over the angular lines of his face, and Tommy just wants. He watches Evan busy himself at the sink and thinks about the bottled sunshine of him as he'd said that he needed someone to dance with.

Tommy pulls his phone out of his back pocket and opens YouTube, finds some playlist of old love songs by the greats like Fitzgerald and Sinatra that he knows will make Evan get all flustered, turn that delicious shade of pink. He lets the ads play out before he turns the sound up and sets his phone down on the kitchen island.

Evan turns around as the beginning notes of The Way You Look Tonight start to play, a cute little frown twisting his eyebrows. Tommy doesn't say a word, just drifts around the island to Evan's side and holds out a hand. Evan only looks down at it, blinking hard.

"We didn't get our dance," Tommy murmurs. When Evan's eyes find him, they're wide and raw and oh-so-blue. Tommy could drown in them. He thinks he might want to.

"Oh," Evan chokes out, tiniest smile dancing across his lips.

Before Tommy can worry about it, Evan is bypassing his offered hand to wrap his arms around his neck. Tommy's hands settle at his waist like instinct despite the fact they've really only done anything like this a few times. And then they start to sway together, gentle, barely even moving really. Just close. Evan rests his head on Tommy's shoulder, and something dangerous and wonderful happens inside Tommy's chest. A feeling he hasn't felt for a long time. And maybe it should scare him, so soon, but how could he ever be scared with Evan humming along softly in his ear, the rumble of it reverberating through Tommy's ribcage too, waking his heart up completely.

"Yes, you're lovely," Tommy croons along with Sinatra. It's a little cheesy, sure, a lot sappy, but it's worth it for the smile he can feel against the sensitive skin of his neck as it crawls over Evan's face. "With your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft." Here, he's helpless to do anything but drop a chaste peck to the apple of Evan's cheek, watching it bloom pink as a cherry blossom beneath his lips.

"There is nothing for me but to love you." Tommy lets Frank sing that one alone.

They're not there yet, but, God, Tommy really thinks he's heading that way. And when Evan picks his face up to rest their foreheads together instead, Tommy thinks maybe he's feeling it too. They just look at each other for a moment, drinking it all in as the song continues in the background. And then Evan is murmuring,

"And that laugh that wrinkles your nose," as he leans up to kiss the tip of Tommy's nose, and Tommy wrinkles it in answer, smiling wide, "it touches my foolish heart."

And, of course, Evan knows this song. A love song as soft and gentle as he is. Tommy kisses him for it. On the mouth this time.

It's not their first kiss. Not their second. It's their third. Certain, sure, but still chaste. Slow and unhurried. Exploring without intent, just to get to know each other. Gentle pressure and the slightest hint of tongue as they linger in it, loathe to separate.

It's as the final note of the song plays that Tommy has to pull away with a jaw-cracking yawn. Evan only huffs a laugh at him.

"Come on, you big lug," he murmurs, swaying back in for one last brush of lips. "Let's get you to bed."

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[almondpiglet]

ppl were drawing mikus from all over so heres habesha miku and her lil twin sibs rin and len!!

[charlemane]

writing tip: searching "[place of origin]ish names" will get you a lot of stuff and nonsense made up by baby bloggers.

searching "[place] census [year]" will get you lists of real names of real people who lived in that place.

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[the-coffee-fandom]

Had to make a meme to describe me currently

[demonicsuffrage]

8 year old freshly adopted Dick, throwing the moths and flies he caught on Patrol directly at Bruce's face: I got you dinner!

Bruce, who was just bombarded with insects: Chum?!

Dick, smiling cheerfully: Bats eat insects!

Bruce:

Dick: I just read it in a book

Bruce:

Bruce: Bats also eat fruits and nectar

Dick: So you're a fruity bat?

Bruce:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick, throwing an apple at him the next day: Dinner!

Bruce:

[jjk4isen]

super annoying gojo satoru when a girl comes up to you and asks you if he's your brother even after clearly seeing him grabbing your ass and saying super cheesy lines to you to make you only roll your eyes at him.

and you're stuck dumbfounded because it's not rocket science to figure out that you two are a thing just by looking at the both of you because the clingy bastard is quite literally stuck to you everywhere you go, whining and pleading for yet another kiss after stealing several from you.

and it's the same clinginess that prompts him to answer in your stead "yes actually. we're siblings" he beams a smile at you and you scowl, why the hell is he feeding onto this random girl's delusions like that? can't he take the hint?

you're not done scrutinising him when he grabs your chin with his big ass hands and smashes his lips onto yours, tugging and devouring your mouth into an extra sloppy kiss for the girl to take a hint.

he pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he licks his lips where yours had been a second ago. "is that obvious enough?" he chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as you see the girl storm off in the corner of your eye.

[tanjir0se]

Disclaimer these are just a small sampling of some possible writer traits I’ve noticed either in myself or in fics I read. Also consider a rb for sample size !

[noodles-and-tea]

Continuation of this

[chiptrillino-art]

something stranger and more wonderful

(ID in ALT text)

my art for @faux-fires (ao3 Link) fic "something stranger and more wonderful"

beta red by @ranilla-bean (ao3 Link) for this years @zukkabigbang2024 event. its truly a beautiful fic. Keeping you on your toes while reading. making you worry about sokka exposed to the whims of nature and zuko, all alone.

big thank you to reikah and rana for all the handholding during this project! And stoping me form overthinking details.

[gh0sdae]

On how they still think curly tried to commit with the crash:

[inkskinned]

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.

[adrianfridge]

Height gap romance except the shorter one is frequently depicted in situations where they are contextually taller. The taller one sitting while the shorter one looms over them. Both of them lying in bed with the taller one’s head pressed to the shorter one’s chest. The shorter one straddling the taller one’s lap and leaning down for a kiss. The taller one on their knees as the shorter one tilts their head up. Please, it makes me go feral

[nonbinary-arsonists]

I will take that rabbit and give him found family whether he LIKES IT or NOT.

Click for higher quality + alt text :)

[yeehawpim]