#i love these funky little guys

[beamattack]

any fellow wasp enjoyers on this site

[notamortician]

the draw ur comfort characters trend on twt with my blorbos of all time

[ninyard]

"if you can't figure it out by now, then i don't have anything else to tell you."

This would be perfect for Andrew to say to Neil

“If you can’t figure it out by now, then I don’t have anything else to tell you,”

(aka an Andreil “what are we?” conversation.)

-

“Allison hasn’t stopped calling you my boyfriend since we got back from the cabins.” Neil was sat parallel to Andrew with his arms wrapped around his knees in a meagre attempt at keeping warm, next to Andrew’s outstretched legs. The air on the roof of the dorms was crisp with a fresh Spring breeze, the wind swirling debris in little whirls around them. “I haven’t told her to stop, but I will if it bothers you. ”

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about for the last twenty minutes?” Andrew asked, a rhetorical air to the question he didn’t really want answered at all. The smoke that left his lips disappeared quickly in the wind, miraculous that his cigarette was still burning. He brought it back up to his lips and inhaled before turning to look at Neil. He didn’t say anything, and his bored gaze didn’t say much either.

“It’s Allison.” Neil settled for, as if it were explanation enough. He sat up straight to match Andrew’s eye-line. “It’ll catch on.”

Andrew regarded Neil for only a second longer before turning back towards the view in front. “She has never strayed far from being a tabloid princess. It’s nothing more than front page news to her.”

“I told you she was betting on us,” Neil said, but Andrew held up a finger to stop him. “What?”

“Their poor choices in gambling are not my business.” He said, stubbing out the finished cigarette next to him and flicking the butt over the edge. His hands found rest in his lap, interlaced into each other. “They chose a horse in a race and think that they’ve won. I don’t care.”

“Tell me to ask her to stop, then.” Neil looked away as well, arms crossed over his chest, close to asking Andrew to go inside. They could talk in their dorm, except for the fact that Kevin had surprisingly invited Matt over to discuss his playing strategy, and this was not the kind of conversation Neil wanted to have with company. They could speak in German; but he’d made a conscious effort to speak in English in front of his teammates since he promised not to keep secrets from them anymore. “Say the word and I’ll tell her, because I don’t care.”

“Evidently not.” Andrew said. “Why bring it up if you didn’t?”

“Well, does it?” Neil didn’t want to indulge in his desire to dodge his questions by changing the subject. “Bother you, I mean.”

“Irrelevant bullshit doesn’t bother me.” Andrew pedantically emphasised the word bother with quotation marks in the air. “You’re asking stupid questions.”

“Valid questions.” Neil corrected.

“Needless questions.”

Neil sighed and extended his legs. He had to brush the hair from out of his eyes to look over at Andrew, reminding himself that he needed a haircut. “I’ll tell her to stop, then.”

“That is not what I said.” Andrew brushed him off with a wave of his hand.

“So are you my boyfriend?” Neil wasn’t sure why he cared so much, or if he even cared at all, because he knew in truth he would never go out of his way to call Andrew his boyfriend anyway. But in some ways it felt important to understand what was really happening, and how exclusive was their nothing? In his own mind, never to be spoken aloud, did Andrew even believe that they were a thing?

Andrew looked at him, his gaze falling from the top of Neil’s head to the bottom of his chest and back up again. He tilted his head, and landed on Neil’s eyes. After a small inhale, he nodded forward, “No.”

Even expecting it, even knowing that was what he was always going to say, it still felt like a surprise punch to his stomach. That’s what Andrew had done to him, he’d turned him soft, he’d turned him into someone with an interest in normality. He’d turned him into someone who longed for a boyfriend and a life, a home, a future, even if his stomach twisted at the thought.

He pushed down the tiny feeling of disappointment that radiated through his gut, and smiled, “Okay.” Andrew didn’t look away, but he remained silent, and Neil filled the space with a question he knew he shouldn’t ask, but had to ask anyways, “So what are we?”

“You are living inside a movie.” Andrew didn’t laugh, but Neil was sure that the desire to was buried somewhere beneath his stoic expression. “Is that how far removed you’ve become in your freedom, that you think that is something you have to ask me?” He shuffled himself over so he was better facing Neil, and he glanced between his eyes. “We are nothing.”

“A truth?” Neil tested.

“Fuck off,” Andrew poked Neil’s chest hard enough to hurt. “That is the truth.”

“So I’ll tell Allison to stop.” Neil’s head bowed in an over exaggerated nod of understanding. “I’ll tell her that you are not my boyfriend, and you don’t want to be called that. I’ll tell her you said that.”

“I hope that is not supposed to be a threat.” Neil had hoped his response would be more telling, but Andrew continued with, “Would you like to be called my boyfriend?” His tone was less inquisitive than it was mocking, the slightest grimace in his face telling Neil that he hated even saying it.

“I don’t know.” Neil reached a hand out towards Andrew, pausing for a silent glance of approval from him before he placed it on his chest, playing with the strings of the black hoodie he wore. “I’m mostly tired of not knowing what I mean to you.” Andrew’s expression hardened into something resembling annoyance as he continued to speak. “I’m not asking you to call me your boyfriend, okay? I just want to know if you‘re going to meet another guy, and think it’s okay to get him off, because we’re not together.”

Andrew didn’t move to reciprocate the touch Neil had given him, but raised an eyebrow at the hypothetical. “It sounds like it would be a problem for you if I did.”

Neil matched his stare and coolness in his response, “And what if it is?”

“This is an entirely unproductive conversation to have,” Andrew rested a wrist on Neil’s shoulder and brushed a piece of hair back behind his neck. A small but meaningful gesture that perhaps was given in lieu of ensuring Neil that his example would never happen. “I will not give you the pleasure of reassurance. If you haven’t figured it out by now, then I don’t have anything else to tell you.”

“How can I figure it out, when you keep telling me it doesn’t exist?” Neil’s voice was low, and Andrew’s sigh meant he heard the gentleness in it. He heard the way Neil hadn’t meant to sound so pleading, the words leaving his lips in such a way that felt like a desperate whisper for answers. “I want to hear you say it.”

Andrew looked down at the hair by Neil’s neck. “You know that I won’t.”

“Then tell me that we’re not just fucking for fun.”

Andrew dropped his hand and pushed Neil off, seemingly thrown by his bluntness. His laugh was a single short breath, not a semblance of a smile or humour in it. He shook his head as he took a cigarette from the packet he’d pulled from his pocket. Once the cigarette was placed between his lips, he stopped with the lighter a few inches away from his face, pointing the fire starter at Neil. “Well, we’re certainly not fucking for love.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Neil watched as he struggled to ignite the lighter, hand cupped around the flame, the wind set on blowing it out. After the third unsuccessful try, Neil reached forward to help him shield it with both his hands, until three short puffs in from Andrew told him it was lit. Andrew leaned back and exhaled. He watched as Neil pulled his hands away.

“You want to know if I’m going to get bored of you, then.” He said through smoke. Andrew adjusted himself to tuck one of his legs beneath the other, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You want to know if I have feelings, is that it?”

Neil shrugged his shoulders and looked at his hands. “Maybe.”

Neil listened as Andrew let out another smoky exhale. He cleared his throat, and when Neil thought he might speak, he instead filled his lungs again. There was no need to flick off the ash as the wind did that job for him, but from instinct he did it anyway. He let out another humourless laugh, two short puffs following in order to keep the stick lit. Andrew was not looking at Neil as he lifted his eyes to watch him, Andrew’s hazel gaze fixed on something in the distance. Using the thumb and index finger of his free hand he wiped the sides of his lips, tensing his jaw like the words took it out of him just to say. “Fuck you for even asking.”

The tug in Neil’s chest was impossible to ignore. It felt wrong to hear Andrew’s voice wrapped around those words, words that separately read like an insult, yet meant something different to their original form when he uttered them. Like watching a fish out of water, like listening to a mime sing; to have these moments of vulnerability from Andrew were as beautiful as they were rare. He hadn’t intended to steer their conversation to the place where it had landed, and part of him felt guilty as he watched Andrew silently struggle through the side of himself he swore did not exist. The side of Andrew that kept itself buried six feet below, hidden from anyone who asked, except for Neil, who’d been digging a hole for months trying to find it.

“When you put a name to something it gives it permanency, yet an opportunity to end,” Andrew sat up and moved closer to Neil, finding his position with one knee in between his legs, sitting back on a spot on the lower half of Neil’s thigh. He threw the cigarette somewhere behind him as he settled. Taking Neil’s hair into his fists, he examined the look on his face with his lips slightly pursed. He considered his words and took one hand out of Neil’s hair to hold his chin up, making sure he was listening. “You label it however you wish. I will not. Do you understand?”

Neil nodded, afraid to speak, as if any words insufficient would cause Andrew to change his mind about where he rested his body weight. It was reassurance enough that he’d found his way there, and that he remained, comfortable by his own volition.

“And for the record, Abram,” Andrew leaned in close, wisps of his hair tickling Neil’s face, his breath hot as he left a gentle kiss on his jawline. Neil shut his eyes and breathed in the moment, hiding his fists in the pocket of Andrew’s hoodie. “To answer the question you so annoyingly want answered,” He left another kiss higher up on his jaw, brushing his lip against his ear lobe as he moved, slowly, so gently Neil was both afraid he would fall apart, or that he would be able to feel his quickly beating heart through his skin. The hand that had sat in his hair moved to cup the opposite side of his face, the other tucking Neil’s hair behind his ear and holding him by his neck. Neil couldn’t help but shiver as he whispered in his ear, “I will not be fucking anyone else, and I am not just fucking you for fun. Happy?”

Neil nodded as he turned into his lips, melting into the kiss that warmed him up as the wind persisted. His hands pulled out of the hoodie pocket, and he tapped Andrew’s neck for permission to hold him. When Andrew hummed with a barely there nod, he hooked his hands around the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

There were a million things Neil could label Andrew;

Terrifying but caring. Gentle while violent.

Beautiful, like something that deserved to be hung on a wall, yet so precious Neil wished nobody else could see.

Rough. Jagged.

Talented. Human.

Misunderstood, perhaps. Genuine, most of the time.

When he thought about Andrew, there were a million things he could identify him as before landing on Neil’s boyfriend.

He would not tell Allison to stop, nor correct Nicky when he joined in. He would not say it out loud, either, as if their nothing that is something was so sacred it couldn’t be uttered. It was a relief of course to know that Andrew was his, and though he felt embarrassment rush through his blood at the idea of it, he was certain that what they had both found in each other was glaringly rare and hauntingly perfect. He noticed how perfect they fit together in each others space, lips on lips, hands on skin, and wondered how he ever doubted this was it; that this was real.

He was sure that no one else could experience such a thing.

[its-no-biggie]

hmm havent been rvb posting much..... time to talk about simmons and caboose! cause a while ago i saw a post saying that simmons and caboose are on "opposite ends of the autism spectrum", which is SO true and i wanna talk about the different ways theyre each autistic coded.

[apparently i am incapable of writing a reasonable length post, sheesh]

bc like. simmons is what people typically think "mild" autism looks like. textbook "aspergers". theres a reason im using terms that arent used by the autistic community, and its because autistic people arent the ones who make these kinds of distinctions. this is autism as seen by neurotypicals: socially awkward, smart in one area of expertise but talks about it a little too much, annoyingly pedantic at times.... you get the idea. and while these are autistic traits that i can relate to, i feel like caboose is a better representation of what it feels like to actually have autism. like, he has an easier time making friends with robots than people, he never understands whats going on except for the time travel in season 17, where hes the ONLY one who understands it. he doesnt understand figurative language, constantly misses obvious social cues or breaks unwritten rules that everyone should know, and has a very hard time lying, deceiving, or keeping information from people.

and i think the reason caboose is more relatable even though simmons is more "textbook" autistic, is because caboose is written as DISABLED. he has a hard time following simple conversations. he cant understand things that should be obvious. everyone around him is constantly frustrated because "why cant he just DO it??" so even if his symptoms dont line up exactly with autism (especially since the way hes written changes over the course of the show), at the end of the day, autism is a disability. so personally, i relate a lot more with him and his struggles than someone like simmons, who is awkward and "weird", but doesnt really seem to struggle with day to day life.

in short: simmons is what masked autism (especially if you have a useful special interest, like computers) looks like from an outside perspective. a little awkward, talks too much, but smart where it counts. generally "useful", and mostly "normal". but caboose is what it feels like to grow up with autism. always confused, everyone treats you like youre different and you cant really do anything about it, cant seem to get along with anyone even though you just want to be friends, and no matter what you do, you screw up everything you touch.

anyway im not saying that simmons isnt autistic, or that hes "less" autistic (bc that isnt a thing lol). simmons just masks a lot better than caboose. thats what an autistic person pretending to be "normal" acts like (its certainly how i act around other people lmao). but because hes not written by an autistic person, they write him like thats all there is to it. which is kind of unfortunate because it feels like theres a whole other side to him that we never really get to see.

now, the fact that the writers set out to write a nerd and wrote an autism stereotype, and set out to write a dumbass and wrote someone who is clearly disabled..... that is a whole separate conversation that im not gonna get into. especially since i dont really know much about rooster teeth, aside from the fact that the fandom seems to have wholly rejected them, and of course what i can see just from watching the show. but i think its clear that its not exactly good representation.

anyway, i still hc them both as autistic, and if/when i write them, i hope my interpretation reflects that while still being true to the characters. it actually works out great for me that theres one autistic person on each team, because whenever im thinking of dialogue and i have an idea thats a little too autistic (like saying something really blunt or picking up on a pattern most people wouldnt notice) i can usually give it to one of them instead of writing it out entirely. which works out really well for caboose especially, because he tends to be quiet during exposition unless hes addressed (bc he cant follow it). so having him make autism commentary can break up all the "blue team problems" nicely. plus having him innocuously call people out when theyre being ambiguous is WAY funnier than "haha caboose doesnt know whats going on" imho

[reiiishii]

thinks about my OCs

[scribble-licious]

Me?

Obsessed with you?

….

Yeah u right

[tnc-n3cl]

@zeawesomebirdie @autumnsakurajayy @unmaskedcardinal

Everyone say hi to my wife.

Did some traditional art with @salt-and-bramble <3

I need to push the designs more i get too bogged down in trying to copy the references.

[airborneice]

i think we all know who the REAL star of season 3 is

i'm making a vague attempt to pace out this season by doing a drawing after each episode, so anyway here's my new fave character

[liauditore]

i forgot what his ingame name was and had to scrub thru a bunch of videos looking for him like a cryptid and i think that's incredibly joe hills of him

[maxaroniiiii]

orthworm in the subway where will he go

[fwoopi]

current residents of toriko !

[yugen001]

MAY 3, 2024

YIPPEEE abu’s birthday

[ghostpal]

you see this fucker on your ceiling, wyd

[pbnmj]

thinking of spider-uk and slight cultural differences

[jicklet]

Mass Effect 3: Best “replacement” character ↳ Padok Wiks

We all fracture in different ways. Mordin's conscience haunted him. Maelon crossed the line into barbaric experiments. And myself... I went searching for whatever gods created the rules for this unfortunate universe.

[commentgoblin]

There’s something that gets me about Colin Provolone man. About hating the one thing you are best at and needing to be good at it for the good of the world but not wanting it. Being cursed when ‘I don’t think I even did anything’ just because you were born. Trying so hard to make something right even when you know it is never enough. Not being included in the group until the end right before everything falls apart (everyone else used telepathy. No one told him. No one told him.) never belonging anywhere until finally you stop trying. You stop hoping you can be more.

You hunt the evil because you’re good at it and someone has to.

It doesn’t matter what you want.

It never has.