I Have No Blorbos. Only Blorbitches And Blorbastards And An Occasional Pitable Blorbae To Balance The

I have no blorbos. Only blorbitches and blorbastards and an occasional pitable blorbae to balance the party.

Things to write your thrupple/ot3 doing, from someone who falls asleep in the middle every night

We love playing cozy couch co-ops like stardew, Minecraft, etc

Places like the zoo, aquarium, museums, etc. They're big and there are enough people there that the three of us holding hands isn't remarked upon

Buying flowers/treats for the person who stayed home from grocery shopping, or the person who had a bad day 🌸

"The two of us can get taco bell but you have to promise not to tell X cuz they'll get food jealous." "I swear on my life."

Looots of parallel activities. I.e. One person playing video games, one drawing, one reading or watching TV.

My partners not helping me with something bc they'd rather oggle me 😐

Partners leading me around a grocery store like a toddler cuz I got the tism and am v overstimulated in stores. (Might be too specific lol).

A constant game of chicken where the 1st person to stand up when we're lounging refills all our waters.

Introvert partner asks to 'tag out'

If I, say, physically play with a partner and run away for them to chase, my second partner stands by and does nothing or helps catch me 😑

One person gets sick followed by all three of us being sick (currently happening, my home is a plague-ground)

Might do another one later. What activities does your theupple/ot3 do?

Wishing you a good morning from my very naked makeshift kotatsu 😊

So much of my creative process relies on having a nice space to create in, somewhere that has little distractions without feeling sterile. And when I'm feeling a bit stuck, I can clean some things to bring freshness to my perspective (which is currently the case).

I love cozying up here with a cup of coffee and my laptop or sketchbook, Playlist for that character humming in the background while the sunlight warms my Addams family pink limewash walls ☺️ I love how easy it is to slump onto the table, or lay on the floor in defeat when the art isn't doing The Thing. I love how easy it is for someone to sit across from me for a spell, asking me how it's coming along and enjoying the energy of my little parlor.

I hope all creatives get the chance to make a spot that suits them like my kotatsu suits me 💕

What's your creative space like? What do you wish it was like? No really, Idgaf if I get any notes but I want to see pictures or get descriptions of creative spaces ✨️

Who says a story structure should only have one climax? 🔥

So there I was. Asking myself, "Does it serve the plot to have a hand job scene and then full-on rawdogging three chapters later?"

Sometimes I throw myself softball questions just to give myself a break.

I love you, and I am so tired of hearing you.

You've been sick, I know, and it's heartless of me to feel burdened by that but here I am, heartlessly thinking of leaving the house- running off somewhere the rattle of your lungs can't reach, where I can't feel your coughing as sure as the vibration of a phone constantly receiving notifications. It reaches me in my dreams, where monsters of the plague claw their way out of your mouth and rouse me from my sleep to find you trembling beside me. It's been a sleepless week and I know you're more tired than I am but I can feel my teeth going slightly out of alignment from the way I clench my jaw.

I can't talk over people, I've never been able to do so without feeling like I'm inflicting harm on myself. Maybe it's the autism or maybe it's an excerpt from the dark chapters I wrote before loving you but each cough of yours silences me completely. I sit frozen as your stuttered breath turns into doubled-over barks of pain, waiting as 13 of them wrack your body before I can finish telling you about my day. It hurts me the way a slammed door does, the way clapping hands near my sensitive ears hurts me, and the way the sounds of my mother hurt me. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's because of her, again.

It's always seemed to me that my mother could not exist without sounds. A sigh as she came home each day, puffing and stomping up the stairs. The grunts of exasperation as she would labor around the house in this hateful, exaggerated way that I knew meant she wanted me to help without her asking. Her asthma, and allergies, and constant colds could be heard from anywhere in the house. And her loud southern way of talking. Every golden silence, every pocket of quiet in which I stowed my daydreams would be filled with her sounds that I could do nothing about.

I grew up in my room, desperate for reprieve but feeling frozen. I started saving money to buy my way to sanctuary as a teenager, and got it last year- moving in with you.

But darling, when I hear a sound like ripping in your chest I'm not in our little reprieve from the world. I'm in my childhood bedroom, tired and wide awake at 3am as my mother hacks sickness into a sink and I feel just as helpless. Forgive me, love, for being just as unwell as you are right now. Ignore my flinches, my tortured glances, my tightened jaw.

Get well soon.

Friday Kiss Tag!

Saw this posted by @the-golden-comet and you bet your fanglovin' ass I'm jumping on this one. 🔥

From Seven Circles 🌐: Ch13, Inquiries.

(I cut the scene before it gets explicit but here's a soft tw anyway for kissing with sexual intent 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨)

Klaus's gaze follows those hands. What he's considering is.... entirely unheard of for Nexi to do for a PA, and yet... He steps closer, crowding Kazimier. "Then take it." He murmurs. The shifter worries his lip with a fang, suddenly so close to the warm skin of the other man. He recalls the Nexi's reaction the first time Kazimier tried to top him. No biting. He'd have to hold back, do less. Even if Klaus' lust holds that touch of bitter flavor that yearns for claws down his back and teeth at his throat.. Kazimier yanks Klaus forward, hand crumpled in his crisp button-up, and their lips crash together. Immediately the hungered incubus is groaning at the taste- feeling that lust appear from the un-sense-able void. Kazimier’s other hand grips Klaus' waist as his hips press forward in search of friction.

I didn't realize 13 chapters pass before a kiss happens and I LOVE that! It really fits with sex not being inherently intimate for these characters (cuz they have sex apleanty before ch13 😏) and kissing.. it takes a bit of time for them to get comfortable enough to do.

Tagging new writblr followers 🫰 @orphanheirs @marlowethelibrarian and @aalinaaaaaa (no pressure tho! And if you have no kiss scenes, share one of a character eating? 🤷) Or anyone else who may have a smooch to share! 💋

I really need to start a tag list at some point..