#is what i'm thinking about like at least 50% of the time

[mochiwonz]

― WE LISTEN AND WE DON'T JUDGE

PAIRING. gn/fem!reader x boyfriend!enhahyungline CONTENT. hyungline (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon) headcanons , suggestive :3 , petnames , a little fluff..? NOTE. i find this trend so funny so i had to make this LOL i was actually gonna make a whole fic off of this idea but i'm lazy so...hope u enjoy ˃o˂ ♡

HEESEUNG

"hee, let's do this trend!" you say as you basically shove your phone in his face. he giggles, he found it cute how you always loved doing silly trends with him. but as he continues to watch the video, he's unsure. it's kind-of...TMI? he looks at you and you're cheesing ear to ear, fuck, he can't say no. "okay let's do it" he tells you while pulling you onto his chest. you click record and you both say "we listen and we don't judge" luckily, you end up going first, giving him time to think. however, his thoughts are cut short when he hears you say "i love your nose so much and sometimes i think about sitting on it" he doesn't know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that. he's fucked.

JAY

"princess, have you seen that one trend on tiktok? the-" he asks but you quickly cut him off. "oh my god the we listen and we don't judge one? can we do it?!" you ask excitedly, obviously expectant. you both know he couldn't say no to his princess. unfortunately, maybe he should've said no, just this once. "we listen and we don't judge" you both say. "baby go firstt" you tell him, and he listens. "uhm- okay. when i had a crush on you i used to stalk your insta...?" jay says timidly while looking at you, and he notices a change in your expression when you realize it's your turn. "hm, okay. i screen record your voice on facetime calls so that i can uh...use it later...?" you're blushing a little, realizing you just exposed yourself like crazy. oh well, at least jay is blushing too!

JAKE

it's 2:50 am and you and jake are still awake, watching tiktoks on his bed while cuddling. jake comes across a trend, a familiar trend, and asks if you want to do it with him. of course, you say yes, this trend was so funny and you secretly wanted to do it with jake too! "we listen and we don't judge" you both say, and jake starts off. "when i'm in the shower i lather my body with soap and carve your initials in it" he admits while laughing from his embarrassment. you giggle "that's weird but also kinda cute" jake scoffs playfully "yeah yeah okay, your turn" you think for a little and hah, jake won't be ready for this one. "i had a dream that i gave you a blowjob a year ago and your dick was huge" you look up at jake and he's just staring at you, but next thing you know he's on top of you. you can imagine the rest <3

SUNGHOON

you had sent sunghoon a tiktok of a couple doing the "we listen and don't judge" trend and that had sparked an idea in his head. a few hours later after you arrived to his place, you remembered that you wanted to do that tiktok trend with him. sunghoon was so happy you brought it up- he had basically forgot. "okay hoon, you'll start?" you ask, and he nods. "okay, i get hard when you wear miniskirts." he says with a playful grin plastered onto his beautiful face. he immediately notices the change in your demeanor, and you grin back at him. you straddle his lap and end up catching him off guard. "so my plan with the miniskirts did work. nice!"

pls reblog if you enjoyed !! my other works can be found here

© mochiwonz ― all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[quill-of-thoth]

The Saga of Great Uncle Asshole And The Priest From Hell

It's thanksgiving (in the US) so have a family gathering disaster that is old enough to be funny. Almost a decade ago, after a life of stirring up drama everywhere she went, my grandmother died. She was an unhappy woman who tried to be better to her grandkids than she was to her kids, and didn't always succeed, and she's the reason that when I smell cinnamon tic tacs they're accompanied by the reek of an illusory cigarette. This is not a sad post. This is a post about the fact that her funeral was a fucking disaster and it was ultimately about 50% her fault. See, my whole family was at one point or another catholic. Grandma really enjoyed going to church in her last years because it got her out of the nursing home, and priests have to listen when you tell them about the husband you divorced and the children who think they know better than you. Grandma did not consider the fact that the local priest she'd latched onto like a talkative moray eel in a cloud of nicotine smoke was an unmitigated bigot. She left instructions that she wanted her funeral to be at that specific catholic church and for that priest to do the sermon. It didn't occur to her that the person who would be organizing her funeral would be her gay daughter and her daughter's wife.

Shit started getting real about when the doors opened to recieve mourners. Over the course of ten minutes, my aunt summoned:

her elder sister, a paralegal

my father, who has never seen a conflict he would not cheerfully walk away from

Their younger brother, in order to swear at the priest

My mother, who hadn't had a good opportunity to fight a priest since we left our own church and was game to do it again.

This left me, the eldest grandchild, in charge of the receiving line, despite the fact that I knew approximately no one there. My brother and cousins were woodenly shaking hands and then whispering "who's that?" "I don't know." My aunt's husband was escorting the elderly and infirm up the stairs one at a time. My uncle's wife was also around but she knew even fewer people and was mostly listening at the door of the ongoing argument.

So when my brother and Boy cousin went to see if we could pry someone who knew who was related to us out of the argument and I was busy trying to convince an octegenarian that she did NOT need to figure out which of her cousins had married one of grandma's siblings before sitting down, Girl Cousin was alone at the door.

Great Uncle Asshole arrived in a storm of curses and a faux-coonskin cap. He blew past Girl Cousin, thumped his cane up the steps, and seized my hand. It was like shaking hands with an extremely strong mummy. "You look just like your mother! It's the hair, what a bird's nest. Where's your daddy? And the rest of Helen's brood."

I muttered something about them finalizing details with the priest.

"Well, they'll come see me soon enough. Bet you don't know who I am!" I didn't know who anyone was. Everyone older than me was having a verbal cage match with a member of the clergy or escorting some other old fogey to their seats, everyone younger than me had even fewer clues, and my only hope was to wrap this conversation as fast as possible. "Nope!" I said, "I haven't seen most of the people here in years." If I had ever seen them in the first place. He was going to be mad, but I figured if I had to be the bouncer I could probably take an eighty-something year old guy who breathed like the surgeon general's personal warning to smokers. I could at least shut the door on him.

"Of course you wouldn't! Your gran wouldn't have told you. I'm your great uncle Roger, and I'm here to bury the hatchet, by which I mean your grandma! She and I swore over our father's casket we'd never be under the same roof again while we both lived, and by god I kept my oath!" People were starting to stare, and it was at this moment that a thirty-something man in a suit sprinted up the stairs, and my uncle's wife, with a look of dawning horror, called her husband. "Roger's here." The middle aged folks descended immediately. Here is a snapshot of the ensuing conversation: "Roger, why don't we find you a seat?" - my mother in her best teacher voice "Glad to see you're doing well enough to make it" - My father, in his best 'good god I want to be anywhere else' voice. "Take me to the coffin! I want to see her with my own two eyes!" - Great Uncle Asshole, "And hang up my **** hat! Killed it myself!" "I'm so sorry, I didn't know he could walk that fast" - strange suit man "If you are QUITE finished, I am starting the ceremony in ten minutes" - the priest

As my father and his brother towed a grinning and cursing old man to the furthest reaches of the family section, my mother and my oldest aunt caught all the cousins up on the argument with the priest. My youngest aunt was still crying while her wife stared fixedly at the stained glass panes and periodically handed over tissues. The upshot of it all was that my aunt and her wife would be allowed to attend the funeral (on pain of the whole family literally walking out on the priest) but would not be allowed to take communion, because the priest didn't believe in their marriage. My aunt's wife had neglected to point out that, being Jewish, she wasn't going to take communion anyway. "That's fucked" said boy cousin, and the four of us immediately resolved in whispers to refuse communion as well. The priest opened his sermon with pointed remarks about the older generation's devotion and respect for the church. He continued on through psalms and all that until he got to the blessing of the eucharist and asked the family up to receive communion. My father, who hadn't taken communion since I could remember, stayed seated. My mother stayed seated. My aunts and uncles stayed seated. The cousins stayed seated. About a third of the church didn't move. "Well father, I'll have mine! These young folks think hey have all the time in the world to get right with the lord, but you and I know better!" The priest, who had been visibly hoping god would smite us, turned a wincing glare on my great uncle and the series of distant relatives and nursing home neighbors who were now shuffling up. The service dragged on. We were lined up to say goodbye to everyone, while the suit man (who would turn out to be my second cousin) bodily hauled great uncle asshole and his coonskin cap down the stairs. "I should have known my sister wouldn't manage to raise any good Catholics! Horrible woman." he said loudly as he was stuffed into a car driven by suit man's apparent twin. The priest approached as we were finally ready to leave, to ask why we were so stubborn that we deprived ourselves of communion. After all, unlike my youngest aunt, we weren't obvious sinners! "Oh, I'm Lutheran" - My eldest aunt. "I'm an atheist" - My uncle "I don't think you're qualified to bless anything." - My mother, who learned her religion primarily from a horde of socialist-leaning nuns.

With that, we left the wreck of my grandmother's funeral behind. "Helen," said my mother, very deliberately, when we were safely in the car, "would have HATED that." My dad started laughing. "Are you kidding? She would have loved that! It would have been all she complained about for years!"

[ghouljams]

Hi, Ghoul. Apologies for kinda venting (?) on your asks, and please ignore this if you'd like, but how does one cope with the idea (and, quite possibly, reality) of being alone for the rest of their life?

I've never been the most confident individual in my years of being alive. I'm not conventionally attractive, and I've been battling with my perception of self for like, basically my entire life. Never really had romantic relationships, other than unrequited and secret crushes. At first, I thought to myself that I could deal with being alone and unloved in that way, but I figured as I grew older that maybe I'm just trying to be tough about it. I want to have the kind of love that other people have, envious as I may sound. I want to be able to look at myself and think, "wow, despite my flaws, someone still took the risk to get to know me and chose to stay."

Of course, this is not to say that the love my tight-knit circle of friends and family aren't adequate. I'm just curious. And hopeful that someday I get to have that other kind of love.

That said, I really love your works and I am privileged to be able to read them :)) it's always such a delight to see your rambles and reblogs in my dash. <3 Hope everything is going well for you.

Hello my love. You already know I'm going to suggest therapy so I'm going to get that out of the way early.

Here's the meat of it. There are thousands upon millions of people who feel exactly the same way you do and I truly believe this is because of the way western society has structured its media/propaganda. So much of the media we consume is loaded with this idea that romantic love is this totally different thing that will complete your life and show you how worthy you are if only you can find it.

This is a load of horse shit.

One of the unhappiest times of my life was spent in my first relationship. I actually had a harder time loving myself because I was scrambling to prove I was worth being loved by a person who liked me in theory but in practice frequently flaked on dates and didn't care about my emotional wellbeing.

I say all of that because I had your same attitude of "despite my flaws they're choosing to stay with me" and ultimately she left me. Over text. It was a whole thing.

So many of you talk about being "old" and "destined to be alone" and you're like 25. Hell even if you're 50, people find love at any age, but the only way to find anyone good is to be comfortable with the fact that romantic love isn't the end all be all of love. You can fall in love with anyone, that doesn't make it a good relationship. It just means you're in love.

Also what do you mean "someone took the risk?" Are you a serial killer? Do you set fire to police cars? You sell meth? What risk do you pose to anyone? You're sad and have low self esteem. So what? That makes you a risky prospect? Your flaws of *checks notes* talking down about yourself is such a huge hurdle that it's a grave danger to anyone that wants to date you?

And I'm sorry I feel like I'm getting sort of mean but you got me in older sibling mode with this and so you're getting big sister shit.

I just- like if you truly believe that you are such a burden to date then you aren't going to get what you want out of a relationship. You'll become obsessed with the first person that reciprocates your affections and it will spiral into something that hurts you. I am speaking from experience.

My dear, i am a stranger on the internet, and I love you. This world is cruel towards tender hearts and disappointment hides in every corner, but we keep loving the world and the people in it anyway. Love finds us when we least expect it, and if you truly want that sort of love it will come to you.

But I need you to be kinder to yourself. I know you said you struggle with self image. Stop measuring yourself against other people. Stop setting up goal posts for your life. Stop thinking your flaws make you some undateable ghoul. They make you, you, and whoever you date will love you for them not in spite of them.

[stobinesque]

Hi! Can you explain what your Semiotics Verse is? Eee! 🖤

Yes!! I feel like I always end up talking about it in gesture but haven't, like, info-dumped about the series as a whole ever. It was originally borne out of dual fic ideas after finishing season 4. The first one was "what if Robin coming out was Steve's gay awakening?" (which became phryctoria) and what was supposed to be an entirely separate fic idea of a 5 + 1 Steve flagging fic. Except then my rat bastard of a brain was like "what if those two things exist in the same universe and what if you write a whole series exploring queer culture and signifiers and give all of the fic titles in the main series titles based on different kinds of semaphore/telecomms/cryptographic systems" because I'm an insane person with worms for brains.

Wayfinder (my Lucas POV s4 fix-it) is technically a part of the same universe, but won't be a part of the "main" series. I had already wanted to do a season 4 rewrite that treated Lucas and Erica with more respect than the show ever lends them, and for the main 'verse I needed to work out how closely I was or wasn't hewing to canon, so Wayfinder will basically establish where the universe is diverging from canon while allowing me to focus on Lucas, my best boy. I may end up writing bits and pieces of that Season 4 rewrite from other POVs eventually, because I'm planning to change a lot about how the events of Vol 2 go, and only some of those things will really be visible from a Lucas POV, but Wayfinder is my baby.

The series as a whole will mostly be Steve-centric, with a heavy Stobin focus, along with some Steddie. A lot of stuff post-flag the play is still a little up in the air and is constantly changing, but the idea is that the series as a whole will explore queer culture and community in Indianapolis + found family dynamics.

Series features (things in italics subject to change):

Will and Steve gay bonding

potential byler?

Slutty!Steve

leather

AIDS Activist + Sex shop worker & Sex Educator + Queer Youth shelter volunteer Steve (the boy is doing too much)

They're [Steddie] switches, bitches! (in both sense of the word)

awkward Rockie flirting

Smithie!Robin

an epistolary Stobin fic

NoHo Pride

Robin & Nancy east coast bonding

Lavender marriage/queerplatonic Stobin

so many OCs

Steddie + Rockie and/or Ronance duplex living

Steve's six little nuggets [exact kid count subject to change]

The 90s

queer intimacy + non-monogamy

info-dumping about queer history

no seriously i have an annotated bibliography planned and a whole Notion database of research

demiromantic lesbian Nancy Wheeler

Edancy bonding

Steve and Robin Share A Gender

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay

[nobodysdaydreams]

Giving a complicated tragic childhood backstory to your favorite character is all fun and games, until you realize you need to account for how old all the other adult characters would have been at the time and realize that scenes that would work perfectly if one character was twenty three and the other was fourteen stop working when you need other characters who are played by adult actors clearly younger than they are to be in college at the same time so your story beats line up thematically.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

so, the most recent novel i managed to actually finish writing, three long years ago, was the book of my absolute lifelong dreams and most of the time i just leave it sitting on my computer and pretend it doesn't exist because i feel too tenderly about it and i'm too proud of it and it's agony to me. these feelings are, for whatever reason, unbearable hell. but like once a year i work up the courage to reread it, and every time i'm like, "god DAMN! who wrote this?? this is exactly what i've wanted to read my whole life!!!!!!! it's simply delightful!" and then i remember that oh yeah, it's me!

[thoughtpeek]

I'VE FINALLY FINISHED BROTHERSHIP IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!

[beaversatemygrandma]

Interview. Interview. Oh Another interview. Interview. Interview. Guess what's next? An interview that a manager is like "Today at 2pm sound good?" which I took bc yeah, it was good...

I'm tired.

Now will ANY OF THEM ACTUALLY Call Me Back???

[bittersweetblasphemy]

the problem with writing a fantasy loosely based on a historical culture is you need to decide how "loose" you're willing to go. like yeah i know they didn't have silk but fuck you there's a literal god sitting right the fuck there and of course he would want that shit. but also would the protagonist know what the fuck a book is?

[here-there-were-dragons]

as a general rule, on average, if americans consistently complain about a food being conceptually weird, gross, and scary, then it probably tastes amazing. or at least inoffensive.

this is because in my experience americans for the most part (give or take a few exceptions by region) think eating literally anything other than beef, chicken, bread, eggs, peanut butter jelly sandwitches, ketchup, and disgusting cloyingly artificial brown sludge soda is insurmountably weird, gross, and scary.

[chirpsythismorning]

📝 💐 🛼 💔⏪️💭🧊🌄❤️‍🩹

I Know There's Something's Going On by Frida

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El's Not Stupid

[to-the-batcomputer]

christ almighty. bruce wayne i don't forgive you for anything (<- girl who just watched utrh voice)

[balconyswirls]

.

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 8: !!NOTE: this is different from the past polls - rather than choosing a story action, you're picking supplies to craft a little makeshift boat (EX: wood will be the main platform, so there should likely be the most of it, however, if there were 100% votes for branches and 0% votes for rope, then it'd just be a pile of wood held together by nothing - keep them balanced reasonably, etc.))

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should get around the barrier by crafting a little boat to take a river detour���.

~

Finally crawling out of his hiding spot in the brambles, he meticulously brushes the leaves from his clothes and composes himself, now fully focused on his generic traveler's map of the area... After checking it about 500 times just to make sure he isn't confused, he determines that going down the nearby river would likely still get him where he's trying to go, and hopefully be much less treacherous than wandering through haunted forests or confronting the stern gaze of the barrier guards..

It only takes about 10 minutes of following a narrower rocky path off the main road to reach a nice shaded spot of land next to a small river. He kneels in the grass, eagerly rummaging through his backpack for supplies, in addition to whatever he can scavenge from the edge of the woods. The rush of excitement slowly dissipates however, once he realizes that he.. actually.. might not know how to make a raft as well as he thought... Surely it's quite straightforward, no? Just.. make it look like it does in picture books?? There are no rules, as long as it floats, it works! Probably anyone could build one on intuition alone! ... maybe...???

.. Once again sinking into a cloud of anxiety, he slumps over, staring at the pile of materials with teary eyes, doubtful what to even do next.... How should he build the raft? Help him by using the poll to choose the appropriate amounts of materials (determined by final % of votes in that category)!

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/708379339960582144/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

“I don’t see what else there could be to it,” he admitted with a little shrug-for the life of him, he couldn’t really imagine what Morgan’s motives could be other than riding proverbial coattails in a bid for fame. It seemed like the only logical answer he could think of, really; try as he might to think of something else, he just couldn’t seem to!

“Now, I admit, I never saw him trail after La Constance,” he continued, as he took another bite of mashed potatoes, chewing thoughtfully before saying, “But I think we can chalk that up to her being...considerably less open to new company than you are, my dear.” 

He smiled slyly and chuckled a bit when he said this, before adding, “La Constance only welcomes the company of those with...sizable bank accounts, let’s say, and the best way to get her to be anything other than cold and dismissive is to flash something sparkly in front of her. I’ve actually seen her smile simply because of the patrons gifted her a new pair of ornate earrings, if you can believe it.”

La Constance actually smiling was an unusually creepy sight (he was so used to seeing her scowling unpleasantly that seeing her flash a smile-even a fake one-was disconcerting), but he quickly put that image out of his head as he eyed his slice of cake, saying, “But Thaddeus Morgan, on an orchestra member’s salary? He’d never be able to afford La Constance’s expensive tastes, so trying to earn a little fame from her is out of the question. So I think that explains why he hasn’t been trailing around after her the way he has you.”

Emily, comparatively, was a down-to-Earth young woman, who didn’t need bottles of champagne on ice or pretty baubles to win her over; no, she was a simple woman when it came to her friendships, and while this was a quality Randall admired in her, he could also see how Morgan might think that “simple” means “easy”. It irked him to think so, but he doubted Morgan would get very far in his endeavors.