20+ qpoc. sideblog for fic archive. read my works on ao3
Sade Olutola

Origami Around
Fai_Ryy

roma★
Keni

Discoholic 🪩

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oozey mess

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Cosmic Funnies

PR's Tumblrdome
The Bowery Presents
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Misplaced Lens Cap
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Jules of Nature

izzy's playlists!
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@leavinghell
20+ qpoc. sideblog for fic archive. read my works on ao3
sundown
haitani rindou/sanzu haruchiyo
4.1k ; rated e ; vampires au
"We'll live long enough to find out," Rindou said, because it was the only answer his grief-stricken mind could form. Truth was, there was an abundance of things that remained unanswered, forgotten, decaying with time.
"We will not die," Sanzu grinned, before licking along the line of Rindou's inner wrist, stopping right at the beating pulse. The tip of his fangs threatened to break the skin there, and Rindou lamented the sound of their blood singing.
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watching lovers part
haitani ran/hanma shuji
4.4k ; rated e ; genderswap + roommates au
Shuji doesn’t cry, but Ran could make her. Anything Shuji doesn’t do, Ran could talk and lure and fuck her into it. A testament to how much Shuji loved her. But testaments expire as love runs out, and now that things don’t serve Ran benefits anymore she no longer sees the point of letting Shuji stay aside from personal sentiment.
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hand covers bruise
haitani rindou/sanzu haruchiyo
1.6k ; implied sexual content
Everything between them is methodical. No crevice for sentimentality to break in. At least that's what they want themselves to think. But when Rindou soak Sanzu's hand in icy water to soothe the scraped knuckles, he can't help but stare at the way the water turns pink, reminding him of spring days. Of petals falling over asphalt. Of Sanzu's cotton candy hair.
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solstice
hanemiya kazutora/matsuno chifuyu
bonten tl ; getting together
Here in the dim kitchen, Chifuyu's heart swells sevenfold, like a balloon about to float skyward from the lack of anchor. He's in love. He has made peace with the truth of it; has missed the deft way Kazutora handles a knife. From the dining table, he watches Kazutora's back, clad with a beige sweatshirt, and his fingertips ache with the desire to caress even just the fabric. To be able to look but not touch renders his hands clueless.
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