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#isn't it nice that sometimes they do good things?
elixrr · 21 hours
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Okay, that's great and all, but—
↪ Aventurine x Reader|Fluff
➢ headcanon:gossip buddies; friends -> lovers
➢ fic part:Aventurine, from some rumors that you're dating each other, realizes that he likes you, and he tries his best to confess (and succeeds, but also fails).
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imagine if you and Aventurine worked similar jobs, you guys work in the same place, but both of you love gossip, and because you're in the same building half the time and know all of the people, you guys have access to vigorous, and I mean vigorous amounts of tea (i.e., gossip). So, every Friday night, you dedicate a time and place to meet up at and start spilling all of the tea you've both gathered!
Echoes of mindless chatter and heavy laughter filled the room. Tonight, you went out with Aventurine for your typical gossip night. Every so often, you'd bring a friend or two along if the gossip involved them, but tonight, it was just you and him. You dressed up quite nicely for the hangout, and though you're not out on a date, you sat in front of him, and he sat in front of you—and both of you were particularly well-dressed. A smile rested on your face, as did one for him, and you were both ready to spill every ounce of tea you've gathered.
Sometimes, either you or Aventurine would have to miss a Friday for work (but you typically missed some days for family or friends, and you've wondered why he hasn't ever mentioned neither friends nor family on his side, but you dare not pry), but that just meant either more tea would build up, or tea would be lost. Typically, it'd be the former, but every so often, the gossip of one thing would begin to die down, and after so long, it becomes old and boring. To prevent that, you'd usually just text Aventurine when you know he's available.
Emma did it— she finally caved in and admitted what happened. This is grand news, and calls for an even grander retelling, not to mention the fact that you and Aventurine have been on this topic for a while! This is the hottest stuff in the workplace right now, but Aventurine told you that he wasn't available this coming Friday. Crud, but this is the best stuff for you and him right now, so you'd might as well text him!
you:rine!! RINE YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED
aventurine:if it isn't my dearest gossip spiller, what's up?
you:yk Emma, right? ofc you do, she's the Emma we've been on about for a whole month. She was apparently cornered by Joshua, Noah, and even that one doofus who spat on your shirt last week!
aventurine:No way. Did she spill everything that happened, or did she lie?
you:She. Spilled. Everything. Her face turned so red when she saw their reactions to what she did. I mean, I felt a little bad, but after everything she's done? Deserved. Here, her sister sent me a photo.
you sent an attachment. December 19th, 14:27, XX23.
aventurine:the look on her face is priceless, and yk what? Let's meet up tomorrow during lunch, we literally have to talk about this
you:wait, but tomorrow's Wednesday, I thought you'd be packing for Thursday?
aventurine:;)
aventurine:not anymore!
Still, even when you guys carry all of the good gossip, some rumors still revolve around you both— albeit the fact that his rumors are more brutal than yours, people still enjoy talking about you two. One of the main topics about you two is your relationship. You see him as your friend, and the same goes for him, but people seem to find themselves entertaining the thought of you and him dating. Actually, about a week or so after Emma was caught, she and her new boyfriend, Harvey, went on a date on your weekly Friday gossip night at the same time, and in the same place. She caught you and Aventurine sitting across from one another in fancy clothing, laughing and smiling all around— it might've been the first time that she's seen him genuinely smile, but she carried a huge smug face, snapped a photo, and quickly let that photo sink into every mind who saw that photo. She exaggerated it, edited it, and made up all of these strange, unnecessary things and details to leave people in awe— even Topaz was confused. Were you and Aventurine... actually dating? She thought it was just some rumor, but now she just had to ask.
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Perhaps Aventurine had one glass too much of SoulGlad? He felt just a little lightheaded, but he didn't want to interrupt or leave you in the middle of the conversation. You were leaving for vacation in a few days, apparently visiting Penacony for a while, and he knew he'd miss you (as much as he refuses to admit it, you might be one of his only few friends outside of everything work-related), so he let you go on, and he let himself drown out all of the noise to listen to you speak. Although these nights would usually be full of gossip, you weren't talking about anything in particular right now, just going on about how rough this week was and how excited you are for Penacony. He can't really understand everything, but he likes your voice. It's the voice of not only a colleague— but the voice of a friend. He likes to linger on that word, “friend.”
“Hey, Aventurine?”
“Huh, yeah? Don’ worry, I'm listening.”
He watches your eyes flicker from him and to your phone. Hesitant, you show him the image that was taken a few minutes ago, as well as the series of messages you've received as a result.
“Emma took a photo of us, and she's telling everyone that we're on a date. Apparently, she even claimed that you proposed to me?”
Aventurine doesn't say anything, but he takes your phone and looks at the photo that Emma took. It's high-quality, focused primarily on you two, but you're facing more towards the camera, and he isn't. You're smiling. Your hair's a little disheveled from constant movement, but you're still so—
“Jeez, even Topaz got a hold of the photo.” You steal Aventurine from his trance and signal for him to look at his phone. Jade and Topaz began bombing his phone, Topaz more than Jade.
“Aeons, I didn't expect us to become such a hot topic.” He jokes, rolling his eyes as he begins replying to every text message he receives.
“I didn't expect this mind of an audience waiting for some announcement about us. Everyone's saying stuff like ‘omg, I knew it!’ or even ‘I had a feeling this day would come!’ and, well, I'd hate to break it to you guys, but we're not dating!”
But we could be. I mean, it's what the audience wants. They've been giving us what we wanted, so why not do them a favor?
Maybe it's the SoulGlad. Maybe it's the sheer, bitter need for companionship that's been bugging him like this, but Aventurine has absolutely no idea as to why he's thinking these kinds of thoughts.
He closes his eyes and listens to you speak again.
Maybe another SoulGlad wouldn't hurt. Maybe if he drank another one, he wouldn't need to push this feeling away.
Maybe if I have one more SoulGlad, I could voice these thoughts.
.
.
It's the New Year. Tomorrow, you'll be leaving for Penacony, and he'll go two Fridays without you. The thing is, you're not replaceable. He wanted everyone at arms length, but you've broken past that point, and you leaving will also leave behind this void of loneliness that he just can't fill.
And, no, he didn't actually voice his thoughts out. He was going to, on multiple occasions, but he didn't.
Except, he really, really wanted to.
Right now, you're on the phone with him as he sits on his luxurious bed, still in pajamas. You're talking about another person and his girlfriend, Jamie, and how they make for a horrible, loveless couple because of the things they've done to each other, to others, and for themselves. The topic as a whole was interesting, really, but he had a whole other conversation in mind.
This is a horrible thing to confess before you leave. But, to Aventurine, it's a gamble worth its risks.
“Hey, by the way,” he catches you right when you fall silent to think of your next point, “about those rumors about us being a couple... How did you react to them?”
“Huh?” You scratch your neck, pondering. “Well, I mean, I just know it myself that we are, in fact, not dating, so if anyone were to ask about it, I'd just debunk the rumors.”
Ouch. You really see him as a friend, huh?
Aventurine shakes his head. This won't do— he can't overthink now.
“In that case, let me propose an... Idea to you.”
“Oh?”
He feels his left hand shake at his lap. Then, he notices the trembling of his right hand. He's nervous— no, he's terrified.
“U– Uhm, well...” He pauses. The words lump in his throat, and he chokes on his own doubts.
“Rine, don't be nervous. You've got this, I don't care how embarrassing or stupid this idea could be.” Your voice rings through his mind, and he's nervous from the sound of it. A blush creeps into his cheeks. It's all or nothing; he's already brought it up, and he won't be able to take it away now.
“...Instead of—” he pauses, forcing the stutters back and behind his teeth, seething at the obvious awkwardness of his voice, “instead of debunking these claims, why not...”
“...why not accept them?” He mutters. Damn it! Why not accept them? No! It's ‘why not give the audience what they want?’
“Oh, don't worry, Rine. I've gotcha there, I'm fine with the rumors. They just keep asking me!” And you chuckle, letting out a few snickers and snorts beforehand. He can't back down now. He doesn't care about the rumors. Those people can gossip all they want—he just wants you to know that he likes you!
“Anyways, I've got the feel that you didn't say what you wanted to. Unless you did, but if not? Text me, 'kay? Talk to you later, Rine!”
What?
Beep.
You hung up, accepting another phone call. He doesn't know that. He's still processing— did you just hang up, or?
Oh! Aeons! A phone call!
He doesn't even try to look at the number or the contact.
“Hey, Aventurine, Topaz here, I just wanted to confirm—”
“What I wanted to say was that I'm really sure that I like you!” Aventurine rushes the words out, not registering the voice on the other line, and not realizing that this was the phone in that one big room in his department that's been bugging out and may or may not be a little too loud for anyone's liking.
“...What?”
“I said that I like you. That came out sudden, but I know you're going to Penacony tomorrow, and I know that— wait, who is this? ”
“Aventurine... This is Topaz.”
And he became the hottest news of the workplace.
“Gosh, Aventurine, I didn't know you liked Topaz!” You snorted in the phone, laughing your ass off like never before.
“I'm telling you! It was. A. Mistake! I meant to call y— I meant to call someone else!” He groans into his hands. Aventurine is on the floor against his bed, his knees on the ground, and he's screaming into the mattress.
“Sorry, what was that? Y– You meant to call me?”
“Yes! I wanted to call you and tell you that— wait, wait, hold on, I—”
“You like me back??”
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sp00kymulderr · 2 days
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just a touch
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Dieter Bravo (x afab!reader)
980 words
warnings: m masturbation, afab!reader mentioned, writer Dieter being horny af, unedited.
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Does anyone else ever spend all their day thinking about...
Dieter Bravo jerking off.
About how he draws it out for hours because he loves to be teased, even if he's teasing himself. He'll watch something filthy (he's got a great selection of porn, some homemade) or look at those nudes you sent him. But he refuses to touch himself the whole time, as he gets harder and more desperate for it.
He likes the luxury of getting off in bed, on his expensive soft sheets, or in the shower with the warm water running all over his body. He gets really sensitive the longer he holds off, so he'll give it as long as he possibly can. If he really wants to drive himself crazy, he'll force himself to go do something else after getting all turned on from whatever he chose to watch - something super mundane like read his many emails, or tidy up whatever mess was left out last night.
Usually though, he'll go to the big full length mirror in his bedroom, slowly take his clothes off, appreciate his own body. He spent a long time struggling with his body image, but nowadays he loves what he sees. His broad chest, the softness of his tummy, and then the bulge in his pants before he slowly peels them off. He's never been anything but proud of his dick. As far as cocks go he's got a pretty one, everyone always says it. He's still not touching it, not now as he appreciates the view of it in the mirror. His hands might come close, as his fingers softly feel their way around his own body, mapping paths you've taken as you've explored him yourself. He'll play with his nipples, pinch at the sensitive parts of his torso and grasp his stomach, appreciate the soft feel of it. He wishes you were there right now, but he'll make do with what he's got. Himself.
Finally...oh finally he makes his way on to his bed, sat with his back against the headboard with his legs spread wide. The mirror is angled just right, so he has a good view of himself from there. He's a little flushed, cheeks reddened. He's leaking precum, made himself so fucking desperate for his own hand. He looks really good, and he knows it.
He'll use whatever is closest, spit or lube or lotion. He isn't picky. Sometimes he'll use a toy too, depending on what he wants to feel and how quick he wants to get off. He loves playing with things that vibrate but they tend to make him come quicker than he likes so he doesn't use them too often - better when you're trying to overstimulate him to tears. Usually he'll use a butt plug when he's on his own, he likes his ass nice and full as often as it can be.
Now he takes himself in his hand, and the moan he makes at that first touch is sinful. He starts off painfully slow, teeth gritted in concentration as he tries to zone in on every single thing he's feeling as his fists glides up and down his cock. He'll think of you now the most, of the drag of your cunt up his dick. Or the warmth of your mouth on him. He'll bring up every memory he has of you and him together, the way you look when he's in you. The way you cry out as he thrusts into you for the first time. God, he can't take it this slow anymore.
As he quickens his pace, the noises he makes would make anyone blush. Dieter is never quiet like this. He loves to be heard, even if it's only him who can hear it right now. More, and more, and more. His free hand is playing with his balls, gentle tugs and squeeze that makes him tense dangerously and groan in pleasure.
Will he slow down now, calm himself down before he starts up again? Well, he'll try but at this point he's possessed by the need to come. He tries to be good, he really does. The way you like it, every last drop teased out of him but holding off for as long as he possibly can You tell him to be good, but you're not here right now and he can't quite bring himself to be that good.
He'll confess later, you can punish him if you want.
He's gasping out, a needy thing, beautiful noises of absolute heady pleasure. Eyes zoning back in just enough to watch as he brings himself to the edge. His favourite part to watch, as his movements falter and his balls tighten and with a loud cry he's spilling ropes of his cum onto his lower belly, onto his fingers, wherever it goes. Messy, he loves it that way. He pulls out every last drop he can, until its too much.
His head falls back against the headboard, eyes squeezing shut as he heaves out heavy breaths while his body trembles slightly from the climax. After a moment or two, he'll bring his hand up to his mouth and lick it clean. Dip his fingers into the mess he made and taste himself. It makes him groan, he tastes so fucking good. You always tell him the same, and he knows you're not lying.
In the time it takes him to regain his thoughts, he's laid himself down on the bed properly, sprawled out and a little dozy. He gets sleepy after he's come, but not enough to actually fall asleep. He just likes to bask in the feeling for a little while while he recovers. He bury his face in the pillow that still smells of you, and close his eyes and just enjoy the moment.
And if he really needs it today...he'll make it all happen again in a couple hours.
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ciaonicole85 · 20 hours
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Part 3: What Then?
This was supposed to be a three part series, but it will probably be 4 or 5 parts. Sydcarmy is a tangled mess of intense care interlaced with anxiety and denial. So they need HELP from their friends and family along the way! Here's a convo with Natalie and Carmen. It takes place just a few days after he found out that he'd made Sydney's best meal ever. Then he inadvertently confessed she's the best part of his day and his heart's dearest wish...j/k, but not really ;)
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On a brisk Monday afternoon Carmen rang the bell at Pete and Natalie's home. The doorbell's speaker answered back, with Natalie's hurried voice. "It's open Bear! Just come up to the nursery." He entered their home noting the new family photos hanging on the wall leading up the stairs. They were black and white shots with Pete and Nat walking into the hospital, the next just after Baby Angeline was placed in Natalie's arms, another with Pete and the baby, one shot of her curled bitty toes, and the last was all three of them in the hospital bed. Pete had hired a hospital photographer and as antithetical as that was to anyone with an ounce of Berzatto blood, Natalie let him do it. The result was so unexpectedly tender and beautiful that he paused on the stairs to soak it in. Pete is really a good guy. He was made from an entirely different mold than any man Carmy had grown up around. "Carm?!" Natalie called. "Coming." He turned into the nursery to find Natalie bundling up "Angie" and fastening her into one of those baby slings. Then with one fluid motion before he could speak, she slipped the sling over his shoulders. "Okay, Uncle she's yours!" "So, how does this work?" he asked, looking down at his tiny niece, his eyes as big as beach balls. Angie blinked back at him extremely unbothered.
Natalie rolled her eyes and chortled.
"It's already working. It's fool-proof! Okay, let me get my coat and we'll head out." They strolled down the older suburb's tree-lined streets past others pushing babies, walking dogs, and the occasional Amazon delivery truck. "Carmy, this is really nice and you're welcome to drop by anytime, but what did you want to talk about?" Natalie enquired. He had texted her the other night asking to discuss something important. He kept his eyes on Angie's blissful little face, swallowed, and began. "I'd like to split my share of the restaurant with Syd. She's put in so much work, took several months without pay, and even though I'm the EC she's the main developer of at least half of the menu and the weekly specials. When I was sick recently, she ran the place like a pro. She deserves it. Also, I think if I give her a financial stake she'll stay for at least 5 years. We need that. What do you think?"
Natalie contemplated him for a moment. "Well, part of me agrees and the other part...Carmy, please don't get defensive." "Nat. How can I not when you’ve said that?" "Is this a solely a business decision? Because if it isn't I don't think you need to or should do this to keep her. " Carmy stopped walking, his face falling with frustration and shame. "Have you been talking to Richie?" Natalie stopped and took his arm in hers. "No, I haven't. Look, sorry. What I meant is things are so good between you two." They resumed walking. "Yeah, and that's a problem?" "Not at all. The way you are together...maybe it's the hormones but I've cried sometimes because you are just yourself with her. I've never seen you smile so much with anyone else. Your freakin’ posture is more relaxed when she comes in the room. I could go on, Bear." "You see all that? What about-what about her? Am I any good for her?" he asked in a low, wistful tone. Natalie pulled his arm tighter. She paused, to choose her words carefully. She and Camry were no strangers to family interference in their love lives. "Well, I haven't known Sydney that long, but she tends to spiral, and she pushes through until she's sick or lashes out. Kinda like you do. I noticed that it’s gotten better though. Since we opened, you've been consistently checking in with her, collaborating with her, encouraging her, making her take breaks, and pouring time into her. She's far less doubtful; she believes in herself."
Carm nodded slowly, reflecting on Sydney's growth. "Well, she deserves that. I promised her that she wasn’t alone in this. My focus was not where it should’ve have been during the reno and Friends and Family.”
He exhaled heavily and went on.  
“So, it sounds like she lights up my life and for her, I'm a good boss or even her big brother."
Natalie shook her head, smirking.
" Yeah, you’re a great boss now, but little sisters don't look at their brothers the way Sydney does you. Do you remember when we were all talking in my office and you spilled hot coffee on your shirt? You peeled it off and the poor girl looked at you, as your sister it pains me say this, like she wanted to jump you. When you left to get a clean shirt, she didn't remember what she had been saying." " What!?!? Okay...." Carm scoffed trying and failing to suppress a huge smile. "Also, does she ever leave before 11 instead of sitting in those greasy whites with you every single night for how long? One to two hours!?" She continued. "My point is if you want to divide your share with her because it's good business and fair, and I agree it is, then let me do it too so we're even. Otherwise, I think you’re already three-quarters of the way there with her. She doesn't need to be bought."
They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Natalie, I understand, but I still want to split my share. I think it’s the right thing to do. You don't need split yours though." "First I don't want the largest share of the restaurant and second.... Pete and I may move to be near his parents next year." Natalie bit her lip and glanced at Carmy worry etched in her brow.
"We think it would be good for Angie. You know, to be close to her grandparents and she'd have young cousins nearby too." Carm squeezed her arm, missing her already. "Yeah, I met them at the wedding. They were...Pete’s parents for sure. Angie would have a normal set of grandparents around." Natalie took a deep breath, a gamut of emotions crossing her face. "Choosing Pete was the biggest act of rebellion of my life. I honestly felt repulsed by him at first, until I realized that he was real, and I didn't have to be on guard all the time. Angeline should have that from the start." She bent over to kiss her baby's head which was protected from the cool air by a lilac-colored beanie. "Sydney's a really good choice too. Businesswise and/or otherwise. So, if you're certain about this call Uncle Cicero. This won't change anything with our loan repayment, but his lawyer could help draft a contract. Then we'll ask Sydney if she wants to accept and if she refuses...just give her one of those Sydney-land stares of yours."
Carmy groaned. "You did talk to Richie!"
Natalie erupted into a storm of giggles. Carmen dropped her arm.
"Look, he started it. I told him to chill, but that Sydney-land thing...You have an season pass, bro! It’s very cute though.”
Next time on "What Then?"- Sydney's workversary (work anniversary)
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y-rhywbeth2 · 2 days
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Scouring a Q&A archive for realmslore, as I am wont to do, and seeing people being semi-officially (officially?) directed to Lords of Darkness when they ask about Realms-specific undead lore even in the 5e era is amusing, and also validating (I love that book. I love how creating tomb guardians/mummies works in the Realms: it's so fucked up. I love the Bhaalist mummy and his relationship problems. I want my Bhaalist to get mummified.)
But anyway the concept that that lore holds in 5e Toril is darkly hilarious to me for reasons, because you'd be applying this to BG3:
Greater and Lesser vampires: Toril does in fact have rare daylight walking vampires! They're created when a succubus kills you by kissing you (ie draining your life force and consuming your soul during make out sessions/sex) and then your corpse rises again as a soulless undead horror that can walk in sunlight. Other than the daywalking a greater vampire is exactly like a normal vampire.
And I'm just... You can get your soul eaten by a fiend in game: can you imagine Astarion's reaction if - after being dumb enough to get fucked to death by Haarlep I know they don't kill you in-game, humour me - you came back as a vampire able to walk in the sun right off the bat? Either he's going to be insanely envious (why do you get everything he wants through an act of terminal stupidity), or he's going to be extremely put out that he isn't special. "There are no vampires like me" Are you sure babe? Bet?
Also as far as Toril is concerned with undeath in its own setting: undeath is evil, as are all of it's sources and all acts of inflicting it upon somebody (except for Baelnorn), but the undead are people and a bit more complicated. Not necessarily terribly nice people, who are monsters and sometimes have to do horrible things due to their nature, but they have control of their actions do damage control and decide not to be total bastards. (Most are total bastards). There are folk stories and legends of protective ancestors and helpful undead, and some undead hunters are wont to let "sleeping undead lie" if they're not bothering anyone. Interestingly I also saw something today that some undead hunting is actually done by undead, who don't appreciate other, less pragmatic and/or morally inclined undead being more evil and destructive than they need to be ("‘nuisance’ undead") and risking encouraging hatred/fear of the undead and angry mobs amongst the living: do you mind, some of us are trying to unlive in relative peace here. How is a Lich supposed to study with clerics breaking down their door, you animals?? Different source again, but D&D's token "good" vampire is a Torilian native (and by "good" I mean Chaotic Neutral and messy, and currently being warped and tormented by the Dark Powers of Ravenloft who enjoy a good chew toy). Toril does have another "good" vampire in official material, but he's been cursed to be Lawful Good and would explicitly go back to being a monster if you lifted that curse, so methinks he doth not count.
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malacandrax · 5 hours
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hi sry this is a lil long but i just felt like giving my own comments about ur post re: feeling left out/regarding more detailed work, and wanted to say that your work singlehandedly has inspired me SO much to the point that because of your more simplistic coloring/shading and focus on movement/body language, i was finally able to find a coloring/rendering style that i actually like aesthecially and enjoy doing! i've struggled w replicating color in a way i like digitally for over 6 years but your work, and especially so your sketchbook scans on patreon have been so useful for inspiration and for my own understanding of anatomy and what not. we're always our own worst critics with comparison and whatnot, but please know that your work and your style are a huge accomplishment and skill in their own right, and your comics inspire me to keep studying so i can one day make my own!!! i'm so thankful you share your work with us and to have come across it and be able to draw inspiration off it! your colors, expressions, and the palpable intimacy and dynamic character interactions are so amazing and specifically unique to your work, never doubt the impact it has just because of other's having a different style or approach or something <3
This is so extremely nice I don't even know what to say!!! I honestly feel so hyped that my style inspired someone else, I feel like it's not something I expected and its SO COOL. I sometimes feel like my style isn't particularly STYLISH you know, I often admire really strong punchy styles, so it's nice to hear my own kind of chiller style is inspiring! And that the things I enjoy come across as strengths, too! Also I am so happy to hear someone enjoys my sketchbooks haha, they're really precious to me but I also try not to be too fussy about my art in them which means it's not 'beautiful'*- they're for studying and/or chilling out, so it's SO nice that it's inspiring nonetheless! Wishing you the best in your art journey and also I think if you want to make comics you should just give it a go! Make teeny tiny comics! [it does not have to be good] [tangent oh my god] I feel very hypocritical because for the longest time comics were something my friends made and I didn't know how to, and I felt like my style didn't work for comics, but honestly when I eventually sat down and started a long comic the style happened out of necessity, I Had to simplify or I wouldn't be able to keep up. And you can see from the links that I just did sketchy comics before and that was fine! I think it was just as valuable as making polished pages. I actually probably ended up making comics For Real because I made a silly fandom ask blog, where I kept wanting to say more than I could do in one image, and that gave me the confidence to try something longer with OC's.
ANYWAY thank you so much!
*I find polished sketchbooks so inspiring, but its so limiting imo to try to make a beautiful sketchbook HAHAHAH
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Hello! If you don't mind, this is half a vent and half an ask both to you and to your followers who have had some experience?
I feel like I want certain aspects of a romantic relationship, the idea of having someone "special" is very appealing. Especially since I find myself falling in the trap of romance tropes, and I really do feel that I want to find that one person who I'd feel safe being physically close with, and not just because I turn my brain off to suffer through it but to actually enjoy it.
I know that I'm rather attracted to men, in theory at least, but whenever there's even remotely a thought in my brain that a polite conversation may turn into something more I get nervous, kinda in a bad way. I feel like I want to put a barrier in and I'm afraid they'll be reading into my behaviour too much. It makes me feel as if I like to play pretend in my head but I'm too much of a coward when real life gets involved.
I've been identifying as ace for years now, and I just turned 24. No experience in the dating department, I've been slowly making my way to accepting being at least arospec as well, possibly just aro, but for some reason it's been so much harder for me. Asexuality just clicked. This I think I may be fighting because the idea of a relationship seems too nice to give up and I've already had a bad experience with an extremely undernegotiated QPR (ended quickly but left a bitter taste nevertheless).
I just wish I could not think about it? But I also feel like the societal expectations of romantic attraction are much more pressing than sexual one. I don't want to lead anyone on, and I don't want to feel this little bit of dread whenever I have a conversation with a guy who I know doesn't have a girlfriend. That's another sign of being aro, right? Being able to be comfortable only when the possibility of the other party wanting you romantically is non-existent.
Sorry for this being so long. Thank you for listening, either way.
Romance definitely has a hard to explain quality to it, and I think that can make it questioning if you're aro especially tricky. It is possible that anxiety you're feeling when a situation could turn romantic is a form of repulsion. It's not uncommon for romance repulsion to feel more like anxiety or nervousness, and for people feel like wanting to go and hide. Alloromantic people can be nervous too sometimes, but it usually comes with a feeling of anticipation and still being drawn to the other person. Or they will usually have either trouble with anxiety in other areas, or issues with romance (romance related trauma for example). Sometimes it can be tricky to know exactly what it is, but if the stuff below doesn't sound like you at all, than repulsion is a likely explanation.
The other thing I would point is that fully alloromantic people often have people in real life they are experience a romantic pull towards, who they really want to be in a romantic relationship with. And if you're not experiencing that, that could also be a strong sign of being aromantic.
Being aromantic, and even romance repulsed, if you are, does not mean you can't have a very important person in your life. I know you mentioned a QPR that didn't go well, and it's up to you if that's something you ever want to try again, but even if you don't. remember that deep bonds can come in all forms of relationships. All types of relationships, including friendships, familial relationships, etc. have the potential to be very special of very deep if you end up connecting to someone in the right way. So whatever path you choose to take, don't feel like this isn't possible.
I'll throw this out followers too if anyone wants to share their own thoughts or advice.
All the best, Anon! Good luck!
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Propaganda why Anakin Skywalker is insufferable:
It's less about his character and more about the way ppl talk about him and narrative around him in a lot of current stuff. The way everyone try to bend over backwards to prove how his reasons to turn Darth Vader were somehow noble or good when almost every single bad guy in Star Wars (expect Palpatine and that guy who taught him) have much more sympathetic history and reasons and how he's not a bad person bc he cried a few times while doing atrocities. And how everyone else gets the blame for all his shortcomings ('they did it but never taught him!!!' -he literally parrotos this same lessons to his own student, it's obvious he knows better but chooses to not apply to himself anything that is slightly uncomfortable to him). Like, I love characters being genuinely not good people as much as a next guy but let's not pretend they're good people actually
the guy has zero critical thinking skills, he whines about everything all the time. I love him, but he’s awful to listen to. THIS BITCH. I HATE HIM. NO CRITICAL THINKING. NO SELF AWARENESS. WHINY MURDEROUS ASSHOLE. LIKE SERIOUSLY. He's a JEDI. LIKE. THEY HAVE HISTORY CLASSES!!!! He should have KNOWNNNNNN that when he had prophetic dreams they're not necessarily true!!!!! Also like. In the Star Wars universe, do Jedi just not have imaginations that can create NORMAL dreams when they sleep??? Do Jedi just not usually dream??? If he hadn't gotten paranoid from the dreams of Padme dying in childbirth
BILLIONS OF LIVES WOULD HAVE BEEN SAVED. FOR THAT MATTER, if you're gonna have A SUPER ILLEGAL SUPER SECRET MARRIAGE, wouldn't you, I don't know, USE PROTECTION SO THAT YOUR WIFE WHO IS SECRETLY AND ILLEGALLY MARRIED DOESN'T GET PREGANANANT????? LIKE LOOK I LOVE LUKE AND LEIA MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF BUT THEIR PARENTS WERE SO FUCKING STUPID. ANAKIN SKYWALKER HATES CONDOMS BECAUSE THEY DONT FEEL AS GOOD I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. Man is an IDIOT. How can you have had a role model and father figure like Obi-Wan for most of your fucking life and grow up to do the shitty, STUPID things Anakin did. Ok this is way too long I'm sorry but I love Obi-Wan so much and Anakin ruined his fucking life and hes just such a little DICK. MURDERED A WHOLE VILLAGE OF SAND PEOPLE. AND DOZENS IF NOT HUNDREDS OF CHILDRENNNNNNNN. ANGSTY WHINY TEENAGER. FUCK HIMMMMMMM
Yes he was probably directed to act that way but the way his lines were written did not help
Propaganda why Tim Jackson Drake is insufferable:
oh man. i've had enough of this duckboy (as the protag, he's tolerable in yj and stuff.) like when tim is the protag every character in the story becomes Worse. lady shiva gets nerfed. steph is turned into jealous hormonal catfight girl. helena is dumbified and too womanly to function (they have a nice dynamic as long as tim isn't the protag). cassie and tim were great in yj98, but as soon as he is The Protag then she is his best friend's girlfriend and they're barely friends anymore. cass is turned into a rapist. dick is turned into a lazy mediocre robin. jason turns into fucky wucky dumb brute yaoi stalker boyfriend who is suddenly obsessed with tim's awesome skills. 10 y.o. damian somehow deserves to be put on a hitlist because he's a savage and tim is civilized. Sometimes the story is bogged own with tim's internal or external lectures about their flaws and how they need to be better (better like him), except for dick HMMMM wonder why that is. probbly wouldn't be so bothered if tim wasn't crammed into the spotlight of every crossover in the 90s and early 00s and then so much of dc and the fandom wave it around as the peak era of comicbooks. like im sorry. he is not a relatable protag. like the editors literally told newspapers that he was created for gen x white dudes who blow their money on comics and merch, the info is on wikipedia.
White twink rich boy who always has to be smartest bestest boy even when he is a part of a whole group of smartest bestest ppl (aka bat family as a whole, like he's literally THE Mary sue of a group of Mary sues) at expense of literally everyone else
His definitive writer is a conservative Republican. His series is full of moral PSAs, *dumb* *hormonal* girls getting into catfights over him, and blatant sexism and racism. He gives anti-marijuana speeches to a standing ovation, he lectures about how babies need a father and a mother, and sex is for marriage. Other characters suddenly become stupid around him so that he looks smart. The other characters talk about how he is the best, nicest, smartest Robin ever and ALL the others were dumber and meaner than he is, even the one that mentored him. He as a grown adult man is canonically still bitter about ""his"" child sidekick role being given to an actual child (fans pretend he is the victim of this on both sides—nope he's the adult fighting a child for the child sidekick role, no adult wanted to replace him). Did I mention that this character is the amazing pure white boy, and his 10-year-old successor is painted as a savage Arab terrorist who needs to be put in his place? T*m is a 5'9""+ adult grown man, not a delicate sensitive baby boy.
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carltonlassie · 3 months
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afniel · 4 months
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Felt cute, might overthrow humanity later.
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cillyscribbles · 2 years
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i love you broken speech i love you heavy accents i love you regional dialects i love you pidgins i love you sociolinguistics i love you beginner speakers i love you interjections i love you language
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daz4i · 1 year
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why is it that everything that feels nice is bad for you but everything that's good for you feels bad. who designed these broken machines we call the human body and brain
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bookwyrminspiration · 11 months
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“how did you even get sick? you look ugly. come here.” For Keefe and Tam? Can be platonic or romantic if you want to do anything for it :). Maybe with cuddles because I, personally, am craving the skin
I love your writing btw please write a book one day <33
That's very sweet of you--I'd love to write several books someday! I've got some concepts up my sleeve already. Also, the way I set up their dynamic (a self-inflicted personal hell) the cuddles aren't as prominent as I would've liked to give you, but hopefully the rest of the fic makes up for that <3
idiot boys and stupid feelings <- ao3 link
warnings: sickness, brief reference of the twin's time banished and all associated troubles, but that's really it!
word count: 6.1k
Watching the sun wallowing, meekly disappearing before an unforgiving horizon as it trailed reds and purples and loud oranges in its wake across the sky was a conflicting sight for Tam, who observed unimpressed from the balcony.
Of all the sunsets he’d witnessed, the view from whatever place this was--Mr. Forkle had told them, but he hadn’t bothered to listen to that part; he’d been more focused on words like “resurgence” and “outbreak” and “victims,” the more important things--wasn’t one to stand out. A simple skyline, typical colors. The sun could do better.
A frown started to surface, but instead of letting it breach, he reached to tug on his bangs instead, the one habit he could never seem to break.
Cool air washed over his face, chilling the drying sweat sticking to his skin, a remnant of the efforts he’d exhausted, that they were all exhausting.
Over an hour ago, their group had dispersed to their various assignments, each to return to Wherever-the-hell once they’d finished their parts; he’d been done first, and was now alone in the hideout--as alone as one could be when they were always watched.
The balcony sat perched over a tumbling, mountainous expanse, sloping down into the night, a twisted metal railing decorated with florals and feathers encasing it. The wide doors were fully open behind him, allowing the light from the room beyond to spill into the creeping night and the cool, fresh air in.
As he stood there, he pretended he couldn’t feel the eyes of this place, examining his hand for traces of shadow, darkness caught under his nails, averting his gaze from that uninspiring sunset. From the memories they stirred.
Another sunset meant another day survived, but another night to face. Time without reliable warmth, with impaired sight, things moving in the night, fitful sleep.
Tam’s mouth twitched, more of the frown slipping out, shoving those thoughts aside and finding the nearest other to latch onto and distract himself.
Which landed him on blonde hair, pale eyes, bags creeping beneath them, charcoal smudges on fingertips.
And something…off.
Of all the people to think about, he didn’t have to settle on Keefe, how he’d seemed…fuzzy, ill-alert, at their “meeting” earlier. There were over a dozen people in the room, and he made it his business to watch each and every one of them, to be prepared just in case--
But, regardless of how many people he observed, his thoughts snagged on Keefe. There was something unspoken about him, something festering, something that had made him want to leave him behind. Give his piece of the assignment to someone else.
Instead, he’d decided that, with the least important piece of their puzzle, Keefe was the least of his troubles.
It had been a surprise, actually, to return to the hideout and find himself the first one back, he’d been so sure that with such a small responsibility Keefe would be impatiently pacing the place, about the track someone down to join them instead of waiting for them all to reconvene while complaining about how miniscule his job had been.
Tam’s thoughts were interrupted by the soft, dragging sound of approaching footsteps.
He stilled, darkness staining his fingers like charcoal as he tilted his head to the side, listening.
They came from somewhere around the hideout, outside, only audible because he, himself, was outside.
Shadows traveled further up his arm, a tactful, slow acclimation to the darkness falling further with each second the sun acquiesced the sky.
The footsteps paused, and in their place a door handle jangled; stone-like, Tam turned just enough to peer over his shoulder, to watch as the door swung open and a particular pale-eyed blond stepped through, hand pushing through his hair, eyes scanning across the room, the empty couches facing each other, barren counters, untouched chairs with throw pillows still dented from over an hour ago.
His eyes missed Tam, skipping past the balcony sheathed in unnatural shadow as he swept the door shut behind him.
Immediately, his facade crumbled, and if Tam said he was surprised he’d be lying.
Keefe’s shoulders drooped, carefully curated carefree expression melting into bland nothing, fingers coming up to hold his temples, traveling back to poke gently at the base of his neck like it ached.
Shuffling, dragging footsteps took him to one of the couches, where he lowered himself as though the weight of the world rested solely on his shoulders.
Tam only watched, squinting to see better.
He wondered how long it would take Keefe to realize he was there, if he even would at all. The thought of how long he could probably get away with it amused him, but slipped from his grasp at the sound of a sniffle.
His muscles tensed once more, ready to make himself known and gone immediately if Keefe was about to start crying, but the sound repeated, and with it, everything from that evening clicked into place.
“How did you even get sick? You look ugly. Come here,” he said, turning fully as he did so, facing his back to the memory of a sunset and inclining his head as he learned against the railing, looking Keefe over from the better angle.
With that angle, he got a good view of the way he jumped, spine straightening and eyes widening, showing the whites all around.
His hands dropped from his head, falling in his lap as he shook himself off, a few precious seconds passing before he had himself sorted. “Were you just watching me? Dude, that’s so creepy.”
Tam ignored the question. “Drop the act, I can see right through it.”
Keefe’s shoulders tightened, and he opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted.
“Don’t even bother to try and lie to me right now. You’ve been off all evening. Now, like I said, come here.” Tam jerked his head towards the spot beside him.
His posture shifted, softening ever so slightly as he glanced between him and the door, as if there was someone else to see. Perhaps waiting for Biana to leap out of the shadows and accost them.
“Why?”
“Fresh air.”
Keefe frowned, leaning back further into the cushions, a slight grate to his voice. “But I just got all that fresh air running around scouting, looking for nothing.”
Tam shrugged. “Fine. Don’t, then.”
Silence fell for only a few short moments before Keefe grumbled something Tam couldn’t pick up, not even with all his practice, pushing up off the couch and stalking over to the balcony beside him, leaning facing out.
At least, Tam thought that’s what he was going for; instead, his feet dragged across the floor and his path swayed, Keefe unable to keep himself moving straight until he slumped against the banister, breath shaky--though he tried to hide it.
“You’re a mess, where’d you even catch…whatever that is,” Tam eyed him up and down, from the wan pallor of his face contrasted with the unnatural flush on his cheeks to the uneven rise and fall of his chest to the unsteady stance of his feet, relying on that railing for support.
Keefe huffed out what might’ve been a laugh. “Wow, thanks. Real supportive. I feel so cared about.” A low sighed rolled between his lips, laughter fading. “I think I caught it from Fitz. He wasn’t feeling great, but I ignored that and insisted we hang out anyway, and now…wait, earlier, did you say ‘all evening?’ Like you’ve been watching me all evening?”
It took Tam a moment to follow Keefe’s disjointed thoughts, lips tightening as he recalled the exact words he’d spoken.
If his cheeks felt warm, it was all the layers, all the black, nothing else. He scowled. “It’s not my fault you’ve had that funk around you all day. It’s hard to ignore.”
It wasn’t, actually; he had more than enough experience curating what, exactly, he paid attention to and was aware of. Pushing Keefe and the haze around him from his mind would’ve been simple enough.
In fact, it took more energy to pay attention than to let his gaze skip past that concealed fog around him. And yet he’d paid attention anyway.
“I think you just like me,” Keefe said, grin pulling at his lips, lifting his head enough to turn and peer at him. The unhealthy flush spread across his cheeks had starting fading to a lighter pink in the cool air, his eyes still dimly alight with fever, he noticed.
His eyes scanned scarred, warm skin, mussed hair, a silhouette backlit by the soft glow of the room beyond, the silence stretching on, his statement unanswered.
Keefe shifted, pushing off the railing to stand straighter, the two of them almost equal in height, though Keefe stood slightly taller and shamelessly used it to his advantage. “We’re alone; you can admit it, you know.”
That was…much more forward than usual.
Tam rolled his eyes. “All I have to admit is how much more annoying you are than I let on.”
“You hesitated.”
“You’re aren’t thinking clearly.”
Keefe shook his head, looking down the few inches he had on Tam, leaning in closer, unconscious of the movement; Tam was very conscious of it. “Uh uh, I may be fuzzy”--he tapped at his temple, blinking as though fighting to keep his eyes open--”but I noticed. You were thinking about it, weren’t you? You’re always thinking about something.”
Tam’s lips pressed together, averting his eyes, scowling. His gaze flickered to the door, fragments of shadows skittered along the edge of the room in tandem. They were alone, but for how long? How long until the rest of their group finished each of their individual scouting missions, returning to catch them too close in the dark?
He’d spent his life with it as his defense, and yet now its charged silence threatened to turn on him.
“You’re doing it again,” Keefe interrupted, the words fumbled, exhaustion creeping its greedy fingertips around the edges, digging its claws into the vowels.
His voice drew Tam’s gaze back, piercing through the dark. Had Keefe gotten even closer?
How had he missed it?
Tam’s body went rigid, the cool air doing nothing to combat the turmoil stirring in his mind, leaving him to fend for himself. “What--what are you doing? Cut it out.”
Brow furrowing, the words took a moment to pierce through Keefe’s thick skull.
When they did, he took a step away.
He opened his mouth, but closed it again, instead letting out a breath, one hand unconsciously rising to rub at the base of his skull, poking and prodding at what he was now certain was a headache.
Tam latched onto it like a lifeline against the sudden silence, the retreat he’d asked for and dreaded. “Have you--hailed Elwin? He always fixes you up.”
Keefe let his prior comments drop untouched, as though they were never there, snorting, “Elwin’s got enough going on with the gnomes and all the councillor visits. I’m not going to bother him with just a”--he gestured at himself--”cold or something. Whatever it is.”
“He’d want you to,” Tam reminded him, trying to be less…whatever it was about him that had Keefe stepping away. Even though he’d told him to.
Keefe had slumped over the banister again, forehead practically pressed to the railing, goosebumps raised across his skin, shivering now instead of overheating. He didn’t answer.
A few shadows slipped forward, invisible against the descending dark, hedging around the edges of Keefe’s shape, hesitating.
“Keefe.”
“Are you going to tell anyone?” It was more exhale than speaking, the words happening to tumble out at the same time, by chance rather than intention.
Tam frowned, only for a moment before he schooled his expression. “What are you even talking about?”
“When everyone else gets back, are you going to tell them?” Without any force, he gestured to himself.
“That you’re sick? Tell them yourself. Probably won’t even have to, one look at you and it’s obvious.”
Keefe sighed in what might’ve been relief. “Thanks.”
Tam crossed his arms, looking away, eyes scanning over the empty room, shadows creeping through the door searching and searching for others, but there was no one to break the silence that fell once more. They truly were alone, just like Keefe had said.
Why? They weren’t supposed to be. Where was everyone else? Why hadn’t they come back yet?
“You,” Keefe started, though he stayed with his head pressed to his arm against the railing, “are one to talk about funks when you’ve got your own all over you.”
“What?”
Keefe waved a free hand, nonchalant. “You’re so worried I can feel it, and I’m not even touching you.”
Tam glanced down to Keefe’s hands, where they rested against the railing. Close enough that they could reach out and touch him, if they wanted to.
He looked away.
“Did I successfully distract you with my charming personality?” Keefe asked, shifting his head so he could look at Tam, the hint of a smile on his mouth. But…less so. Not as wide as he’d been smiling earlier.
“You talk too much,” he scowled, reaching up to tug at his bangs, the scratch of metal against his fingertips comforting.
Keefe made an indignant noise. “You’re the one who started this conversation, creeping on me from the shadows and telling me to ‘come here.’ This one’s on you. If you didn’t want to talk to me, why ask me to come closer to you? Hypocrite.”
Now it was Tam’s turn to be indignant. “You were feverish, I told you to get over here to cool off--and so you wouldn’t infect the room.”
“Nice to know you care.” Keefe mumbled, eyes rolling.
“Of course I do,” he hissed back, then clamped his mouth shut.
Keefe stilled beside him, but Tam refused to move his gaze from where it bored a hole into the far wall, that frown from before resurfacing as his fingers dug into the railing he leaned on, bones and muscle turning to stone.
Silence screamed for long enough Tam was nearly convinced neither of them would ever speak again, and then--
“You’re gonna pass out if you stay so rigid. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to loosen up once in a while?”
Internally, he flinched, but his body remained impassive. He shot Keefe a glare. “You have to make everything into a joke, don’t you?”
It was Keefe’s turn to flinch, scowling as he looked away--but it lacked any real conviction, lethargy dimming the edges as he sniffled, a slight shiver running through him.
Tam’s frown deepened.
He watched--though if you asked if he’d been watching, he’d deny it--as Keefe’s attention snagged on something he couldn’t see, eyes distant as he flexed his hand over and over.
Flashes of cold nights and running noses, flush cheeks and wondering hoping begging Linh to wake, to be well, to push through the haze and find him again passed through his mind. Searching for herbs but not knowing what to look for, never enough supplies, coughs and setting suns and days stretching into weeks into months into eternity as Keefe faded further and further into that haze, away from him.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. “What?”
Somehow Keefe found a way to slump down even further, resting his head on his arm, squished cheek distorting his words as they spilled out, filter breaking like a dam under his exhaustion. “I don’t get you. You say you’ve been watching me all evening and tell me to come stand next to you, and then get all defensive and upset with everything I say. You’re feeling something strong enough I’m picking up flashes through the air, but I’m not touching you and I can’t think straight so I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel great. You say you care and then snap at me, what am I supposed to make of all that?”
Outburst over, Keefe stopped leaning on the rail entirely, instead lowering himself to the ground as he rubbed at his neck, still sniffling, staring off into the dark, sun long since gone.
Tam couldn’t help the lurch in his chest at the sight.
Keefe or the darkness, he couldn’t tell, but the jolt was there all the same.
“You must be worse than I thought if you’re getting all emotionally aware on me,” he peered down at him, trying to distract himself from the stone sitting in his chest.
“Seriously? You were just getting on my ass about making jokes out of everything.”
Shadows pulsed under his palms, swirling with an unidentified heat he didn’t want to think about. “Fine. You have a point there. I…sorry.”
“Whatever.”
Keefe made a dismissive gesture up at him, other hand still flexing, eyes closed now as he rested his face against the railing, legs crossed beneath him. It didn’t look comfortable.
After a few terse moments of debate with himself, both sides screaming adamantly, he huffed out a breath and lowered himself down hard, not giving himself a chance to second guess any longer.
“Do you want to read my emotions?”
Keefe sat up in surprise, looking over at the hand extended in offering.
“What? You’d let me?”
Teeth grinding, words slow, “You said you couldn’t tell through the air. Wouldn’t this help?”
Keefe searched his face as though making sure he was serious, and Tam fervently hoped there wasn’t anything to find as he reached to tug on his bangs. “Make a decision before I change my mind.”
That was all the encouragement Keefe needed, gaze sliding down his body--Tam swore he could feel its weight against his skin like static--to his hand, wrapping two fingers around his wrist as though taking his pulse.
Keefe’s eyelids fluttered as he inhaled, sudden and deep, grip tightening, a furrow between his brows as he pushed through his fatigue and into the maelstrom of emotion he’d been complaining about.
Trying not to squirm beneath the scrutiny, all he could do was watch, entirely unaware of what, specifically, Keefe was finding. What he’d learn.
Was this what it felt like when he read people’s shadow vapor, the sitting and the waiting?
Why had he agreed to this?
Why had he even suggested it?
A small, rebellious voice in the back of his head knew why, but he shoved it away before it could put voice to those thoughts.
“What--” Keefe made a face, scrunching up his nose, soft confusion in his tone, “what are you afraid of?”
Tam started. “I’m not--”
“You do realize you can’t lie to me, right?”
Keefe looked at him with an intensity that made him want to knock the look from his face, to turn around and walk into the night.
He settled for pulling his arm away, breaking the connection--or at least, he tried to.
As his wrist slipped from Keefe’s grip, he caught his hand, fingers brushing against his palm as he squeezed tight.
“Wait. I’m…sorry.” Keefe looked lost, fumbling for words, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. “I…didn’t mean to push you. It’s just a really strong feeling. It surprised me. Is it the thing with the gnomes? Because we’re going to figure it out and fix it.”
“I know that.”
“Then what���?” Keefe trailed off, looking lost, brows furrowing as he tried to think through the fog in his mind.
Tam’s grip tightened involuntarily, memories from his and Linh’s Exillium days flashing through his mind. “I don’t like sickness.”
Keefe nodded, still not quite following. “Well duh, no one does, it sucks--”
“It’s not the same for you,” he interrupted, looking away, leaning back against the railings, peering into the night sky as his stomach clenched. “When you’ve been sick, you’ve always been able to call on the best care your world has to offer, just a hail away. All the supplies you could ever need readily available. You’d be better by the morning as though it’d never even happened, just a slight discomfort, comfortable knowing you’d be just fine. You could take a day off, even. You never had to wonder if there was enough to treat you, if you could find what you needed, not sure when she’d get better and if she’d be okay to go to school, or if you’d have to leave her alone to go and get your beads, hoping you wouldn’t catch it because there wasn’t enough to treat the both of you and someone had to get the beads otherwise you’d be left behind.”
Tam cut off, biting his lip, for once not even caring what Keefe picked up on his palm, too distracted as he tried to get the images of Linh’s flushed cheeks, the shadows under her eyes, the tremor in her fingers as she propped herself against the wall, out of his head.
“Linh got sick,” Keefe whispered, more statement than question, but he decided to answer it anyways.
“Bad. It’d started out just a mild cold she must’ve caught from another wayward--fever, sniffles, headaches,” he glanced at Keefe’s flushed cheeks, blinking uncomfortably as he rubbed at his neck, both all too aware how it matched up with his symptoms, “but it didn’t go away. And we didn’t have anything to treat it with. And it got worse. A lot worse. I hated watching the sun set because she always shivered so badly without the sunlight’s warmth, no matter how hot I made my body. But the worst part was the only reason it got that bad was because we didn’t have any elixirs or treatment--but they exist. We just didn’t have access. And yet you do and throw it away,” he added at the end, bitterness coating his tongue.
Keefe swallowed, thumb pressed into the back of Tam’s hand. “I…guess I hadn’t thought about that.”
“No shit.”
For once, Keefe let the attitude slide, an incredibly unsettling phenomenon, because instead he was looking directly at Tam. He was suddenly reminded that with their hands still linked, he could still feel every single one of his emotions.
“What if--what if I promise to take something myself then? I still don't want to bother Elwin--the gnomes have him busy enough--but…you don’t need a physician to take elixirs. There’s probably something somewhere in whatever-the-hell this place is called--I wasn’t listening when Fork man said the name.”
“Me either,” Tam admitted. “It’s probably something stupid. Do you really plan to take something, or are you just saying that?” He couldn’t hide the skepticism in his voice, but Keefe would’ve felt it anyways.
Keefe made an offended noise. “I meant it! I’m trying to make you feel better about your sad life, because Foster keeps getting on my case about being nice to you and she’s so stubborn about it--and maybe I just like you, you ever thought about that?”
Unlike Tam, Keefe didn’t look the slightest bit concerned by the confession, grumpily playing with Tam’s fingers in his hand, poking at the veins beneath his skin. Though maybe he hadn’t thought through the consequences of saying it, or was too tired to.
“Do you?” Tam asked, quiet, braced against the answer.
Was he worried he’d say no?
Or that he’d say yes?
“I do,” he said, eyes on their linked hands, “more than I should.”
A heady rush passed through him, spine tingling as his stomach dropped--relief? Fear?
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Keefe’s already flushed face reddened further, as his brain started to catch up with where the conversation was headed, pressing his lips together as though he could stop it. But there was no way Tam was letting him walk away without answers and Keefe knew it; he’d opened the floodgates, now he had to ride out the wave. It was his own fault, really.
Sighing, he made a non-committal gesture as though that would explain everything. “We both know it would be better for both of us if…if no one had to put up with me. If I could just keep all my problems and feelings to myself instead of everyone else having to deal with the mess.”
Tam made a face, snapping, “You don’t have any right to say what would be better for me. Don’t make that choice for me.”
Starting back a little, Keefe tilted his head to the side, mouth falling open a touch, glassy eyes searching Tam’s.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you don’t get to decide what is and isn’t worth my time.”
Keefe’s breath caught, tongue between his teeth as he ventured, barely audible, “And me? Am I…?”
Tam didn’t answer for a moment, heartbeat screaming in his ears loud enough he could barely hear himself say, “You’re the empath, you tell me.”
A few moments passed, Keefe’s shaking fingers pressing against the lines of his palm with intention this time.
As the shaking spread, Keefe’s eyes widening as he glanced between him and his palm, Tam added, “Why do you think I invited you over here?”
“...Fresh air?”
Tam rolled his eyes, but tried to keep his voice gentle as he stared ahead. “Because…I wanted to keep an eye on you. Because I care and its--fuck it, its worth my time, alright? Don’t make me say it again.”
Against his better judgment, he glanced at Keefe, only to see a shit-eating grin starting to spread across his lips.
“Don’t push your luck,” Tam grumbled, shifting as he reached for his bangs with his free hand, fingers flexing in Keefe’s grip unconsciously.
Keefe nodded, smile mellowing, lingering until it turned into something uncertain. “Where…where does that leave us?”
Tam didn’t have an answer.
“Us?” he repeated instead.
Reddening, Keefe tried to backtrack, though he still didn’t let go of his hand.
But he was all out of words, quickfire mind finally exhausted, nothing left to shield himself as his mouth gaped and closed, nothing to save himself.
As if he’d ever need saving from Tam.
Scowling, he cursed idiot boys and stupid feelings, shaking his head, pressing his palm firmly against Keefe’s, deliberately thinking the words he didn’t know if he could voice again, bringing the feeling to the forefront of his very self.
I care.
Keefe hissed in a breath through his teeth. “I--oh.”
“Oh?”
“Us.”
It was all he said, but it was all he needed to say in that moment, because suddenly it was no longer a question.
It was an undeniable certainty.
“Alright,” Tam said, nearly lightheaded, “us.”
He didn’t think he minded his hand in Keefe’s anymore, whatever he’d find.
He’d already found exactly what Tam had wanted him to, what he’d been unwilling to admit he’d been hoping he would.
A shiver crawled through Keefe’s body, and for a moment Tam became the empath between the two of them. Unimaginable lethargy pulled at his bones, breath labored through narrowed airways, a fog in his mind trying to drag him into darkness.
They’d left his illness unspoken for a moment, distracted by their…whatever that conversation was, but no longer.
“You need to rest,” Tam instructed, gentle, but firm. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, but Keefe wouldn’t make it easy.
That, as expected, sparked something in Keefe, some last ditch effort to pull himself together. “No, there’s the resurgence, and we still have to reconvene with everyone--” “Please.”
The word surprised them both, stopping them short.
That…wasn’t what he’d meant to say.
But something in Keefe looked uncertain, lost, so he said it again. “Please, Keefe.”
“I…okay,” he deflated, words barely a whisper as he gave in, the bravado he’d put on slipping away, leaving him hunched over, sniffling, chills coating his bare arms on the now cold balcony, washed in the light spilling out from the room behind them.
Tam looked him over, nodding to himself--he believed him, that he’d listen for once in his life, though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t like Keefe. “I’ll find wherever their stash of elixirs is and bring them to you--why don’t you sit on the couch, get out of the cold?”
Another tremor ran through him as he finally let Tam’s hand slip from his as the two pushed to their feet in tandem, one much steadier than the other.
And even though their hands didn’t touch, not even the barest of brushes between their fingers, a silent electricity hummed between their bodies, tingling along his skin as they split. Keefe collapsed face first into the couch, groaning, and Tam moved to search the rest of the place in the quiet that followed, haunted by the hollow feeling of skin that hadn’t been touched, but nearly had been.
It didn’t take long for him to find a small, but well-equipped supply of medicinal elixirs, balms, and miscellaneous assortments for small injuries and ailments. He grabbed two he thought would help, shutting the doors behind him as quietly as possible, but they still echoed in the silent place--seriously, where was everyone else?
Had so little time passed that no one else had returned?
He could’ve sworn lifetimes had come and gone on that balcony.
So brief, and yet now the scope of his world had changed, new, undefined tethers drawing him to a certain troublesome boy with no sense of self-preservation or risk sprawled across the entirety of a couch.
Leaning over the back of it, peering down at him, Tam tapped the two vials he held against the back of Keefe’s head, smiling to himself as Keefe swatted half-heartedly at him.
“You already agreed, you don’t get to take it back.”
“I wasn’t going to!” he protested as he shifted to a propped up position, though it had less force than he would’ve expected. “I told you I meant it. I know everyone’s always telling me off for being stubborn, but I don’t always push back. I can make smart decisions.”
He’d believe it when he saw it.
Keefe grabbed the vials, uncorking the first.
Tam blinked as he downed the contents and studiously avoided his gaze. “You’re holding something back.”
Keefe scowled at his matter of fact tone as he downed the second, though his hands shook as he uncorked it. “Fine. Your story about Linh got to me, okay? I don’t want to worry anyone else.”
Of course. He’d never relent for his own sake, only to prevent himself from becoming a burden to others.
Idiot.
Keefe wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, waiting for the elixirs to kick in and for Tam to say something, but he was too busy scanning the room for a blanket, frowning when he came up short. Surely a secret, underground rebel organization trying to fix fundamental problems in their world had enough interior decor sense and time to have decorative blankets somewhere.
Apparently not.
“What are you looking for?”
“A blanket. You’re shivering, but I don’t see any,” he continued, ignoring Keefe’s mouth opening--likely to protest. He always had something to say. Infuriating.
Keefe didn’t like being ignored and rolled his eyes--though he winced with the action, probably aggravating whatever of his headache hadn’t eased yet--and grumbled, “This is ridiculous. I’m not even that cold. What are you even going to do about it without blankets? Share your body heat?”
It took a moment for Keefe to register what he’d just said, but when he did his eyes went wide, mouth snapping shut as he dared a glance at Tam.
He kept his face carefully impassive, but he reached up to tug at his bangs, habit traitorously giving his frazzled state of mind away.
Neither of them spoke for a moment longer--Keefe, because while sick, had the sense to realize he’d given away much more than he’d intended to tonight, and Tam because he had no idea what to do with everything Keefe had given him.
“Careful there, someone might think you actually wanted to be close to me,” Tam deadpanned at last, fingers still in the rough metal, though the joke fell oddly. Like with whatever their new us was, it didn’t fit anymore. Like it was just going through the motions without the venom behind it.
Keefe said nothing, but his gaze flickered, away from Tam’s face--only for a few moments, but long enough for Tam to see him rake it down his body before snapping back, and he could’ve sworn it lingered on his hands.
Tam stopped short, mind going blank. “...do you?”
“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to,” was the answer he got, unable to tell if his flush was from sickness or embarrassment as he refused to meet Tam’s eye.
He gave his bangs one final tug before he dropped his hands, blurting out, “When we couldn’t keep warm in the neutral territories--before we’d learned to regulate our temperatures or when we were too tired--we’d share body heat.”
Keefe’s brow furrowed, looking up at him, uncertainty on his face. “...are you offering--”
“Well if you don’t want to--”
“I didn’t say that! You…you’re warm,” he tacked on at the end, trying to find a suitable explanation, but the hesitation gave him away.
Tam stayed silent for a moment, then, “Sit up.”
“I--huh?”
“I said sit up; you’re taking up the whole couch. Unless you want me to crush you with my body weight, I need space,” he continued, but Keefe was already scrambling to push himself up, freeing up a spot that Tam slid into, breath catching as their arms brushed together.
He’d been close to people before--closer, even, usually with Linh.
But something about Keefe’s arm against his jolted through him, every hair on his body standing on end.
“I’m not going to bite,” he said, amused, watching Keefe sit stunned beside him, rigid as a statue, a cornered animal ready to bolt. “Well, probably not.”
Keefe huffed, something sounding like asshole and fuck it spilling past his lips as he shifted closer, their legs pressing together too now, the static between them building, though neither mentioned it.
Quietly, glancing at him for permission as he did so, Keefe reached out and took Tam’s hand; he felt rather than saw the tremor that rocketed through him at the influx of emotions the touch provided, but Keefe just held on tighter.
Their breaths the only sound, they sat like that, pressed together, until Keefe’s shivers had started to abate.
“How are you so warm?” Keefe mumbled suddenly, starting to melt back into the cushions beside him--whether because he was comfortable or exhausted, Tam couldn’t tell. “You’d think a shadow guy would be freezing.”
“Shadow guy?”
“Shut up. You know what I meant.”
Keefe’s eyes had fallen closed, words slurring, chest moving slow, rhythmic.
Hardly daring to move, Tam watched as Keefe’s muscles gave in to sleep, his head tilting, falling in a slow arc towards him, until Keefe’s cheek was pressed against his shoulder, grip loosening in his hand.
Tam’s breath caught in his throat, but he stayed still--until Keefe started to slip, at just the wrong angle that gravity tried to pull him forward.
Before he could fall further, Tam caught him, grinding his teeth together as he weighed his options.
Gently, he shifted, hardly daring to breath lest he wake Keefe from his much needed nap, and just…adjusted his trajectory slightly.
Instead of falling forward and off the couch, or roughly shoving him back, Tam lowered his head into his lap, hands hovering over the rest of his body uncertainly before he finally let them settle on Keefe’s arm.
A few terse moments later, Keefe gave no sign of stirring, settling into the new position, breaths even--and Tam thought his color had improved too, the elixirs starting to kick in.
There was nothing else to do in the silence that followed but breathe an easy sigh, looking around at the well furnished room--unforgivably devoid of blankets, but otherwise lavish--the steady light, the stable structure, secure in the knowledge that no matter what happened next, he wasn’t--they weren’t--out there still.
That they could get what they needed, and enough of it.
They weren’t the only people looking out for them anymore.
Which brought a different problem to mind: where was everyone else?
Almost as soon as he put thought to the question, something prickled his senses, and the door across the room swung open, Biana bursting in with Linh close behind, breathless.
They stopped short at what they found as Tam tensed, Biana’s mouth falling open and Linh covering a knowing smile with her mouth.
“Don’t you dare say a word,” he hissed, glaring at them, heart pounding.
The glance the two shared and the grins that followed didn’t bode well for him.
But as Keefe shifted in his lap, sleeping peacefully, safely, recovering, skin soft against his own, he couldn’t quite remember why he cared.
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synthshenanigans · 14 days
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there’s one on here currently and they’re bringing back up old controversy (jashshipping)
Yeaa I saw that. They also seem to post a bunch of CJ related things, so I might make the daily photos one since there isn't one for just CJ screenshots/photos
#im gonna be a fait bit busy today so I cant make it rn#also wont be making it tomorrow as there's another strike happening then [ill make a post on that later too btw]#but i want there to be an account just of stuff from the vids or of the ones he posts on twitter#as for the shipping thing#i wish ppl wouldn't be so rude with things sometimes man#my stance is basically the same as CJs. interpret it however you'd like just don't show it to ppl who are uncomfortable with it#also don't harass or be a dick to people who do or don't ship it#im glad it died down since then at least & that there's not a bunch of hate going around#this fandom is simultaneously really nice to be in & also really draining sometimes#tho it definitely isn't the worse. ive been in a lot of ones that are a LOT worse than here. big & small#place is actually quite nice mostly. despite some things that deserve needing to be called out [like some of the ableism toward Heart]#I think things would be a lot better if people just let others do their own thing. as long as its not like. fuckin illegal or offense#or against CJs boundaries. just let others vibe out in there own corner#ain't that what we all said when TH purists complain about CJs covers? No ones forcing you to consume the content. is all good#just stay where you're comfortable! if anyone's forcing you to look at their stuff then they're the issue. and that goes both ways#again just listen to what the guy said. don't show it to people that don't like it. don't harass people who do it don't like it. an like#just be groovy#sorry for the rant this has just been on my mind for months now#im generally very neutral on things but i hate everyone just yellin at each other when there doesn't need to be yelling in the first place#again this place is hell of a lot better than other spaces ive been in#its a main reason this is the first fandom I've actively participated a shit ton in#im actually using discord & talking [a bit] to other ppl for once lol#idk man i like it here. Just don't make a reason for people not to like it here#again apologies for the rant op. this has just been on my mind for some time & i really don't want shit being blown up again#also apologize if anythins spelled wrong or sounds like nonsense#shitty keyboard + dyslexia + not being able to edit tags can make dumb results lol#moss rants#[atlas asks]
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cruelsister-moved2 · 1 year
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at the end of the day like it's not lesbians' job to resolve contradictions for you!! if you don't know how to square loving men with genuine unflinching opposition of the patriarchy, there are literally GENERATIONS of straight and bi feminist women who have been discussing this. but instead, for some reason, this is lesbians' responsibility, so our criticisms of men are met with unique discomfort, because they aren't underpinned by the assurance of partnership with a man to prove that we acknowledge men's humanity (as if lesbians don't have male friends, family members, children, students, comrades, etc + as if there aren't millions of heterosexual women who genuinely despise their partners).
when I relate a criticism of the patriarchy, and of men, it's not MY job to explain how that squares with the domestic harmony you and jakey share. I'm not persecuting that harmony when I don't have an answer for you:I don't have those answers because, as a lesbian, I don't need them, and frankly I don't envy you the task. there are people with these answers, but expecting lesbians to both have them + spoonfeed them to you every single time we open our mouths is starting to feel like a double standard when the vast majority of straight women don't have them either 😭
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amphiptere · 6 months
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is gay hockey smut a thing? because unless the authors are prepared to make their hockey universe co-ed, there's no way to have players on the same or even opposing teams get together and frankly that's a way more interesting story than "random hot girl meets hockey guy."
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sleepsucks · 2 years
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oops yeah hi ,
queue’s empty + I’m out of scanned dailies + I don’t have a scanner at the moment + I might get one next week but even if it works (unclear) i have such a huge backlog of comics I’ve left uncolored that I’d have to deal with that too + honestly couldn’t guarantee to get back to one per day as at the moment I’m still dealing with failing to keep enough free time and motivation outside of my job for that or anything
*so* yeah, potentially heading for some sort of hiatus with that; hopefully back soon ! hopefully aiming for more than one per day sometime later so I can reduce the massive delay at least a bit ! Take care ‘till then ✨✨✨
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