#tell me to write more folks

[viperwhispered]

Too Hard

Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.

The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.

What a stupid thought to have because of you.

Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.

So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.

“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.

Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.

On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.

Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”

Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.

His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.

Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.

After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.

If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.

The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!

For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.

After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.

Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.

Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?

Could you possibly-

Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.

He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-

Jamil froze in his tracks.

The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.

Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.

Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.

Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.

Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?

Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.

What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?

Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.

He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.

Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.

“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.

“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.

As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.

And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.

Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.

All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.

“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.

Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?

Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.

Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.

“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.

Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.

“Hmm. Maybe he will.”

Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?

Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?

“You know-”

“So-”

You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.

Even your surprised look was so-

“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.

“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.

“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”

He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.

“No. It is not.”

You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.

Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.

“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.

Wait.

Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?

The thought twisted his stomach into knots.

Eta: you can find part 3 here, part 4 here, and finally part 5 here. Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)

[piratekane]

Their phones go off at the same time, a tiny ding that echoes across their apartment. Mary frowns at Shannon’s phone, Shannon frowns at Mary’s, and they both reach at the same time.

“Beatrice,” Mary reads off Shannon’s phone.

Shannon turns Mary’s phone right side up and purses her lips. “Ava.”

Mary groans and lets her head fall back against the couch. “What did they get themselves into this time?”

Shannon pats her leg gently before she steals a chip right out of the bag Mary is still clutching. She throws one back, mouth puckering at the salt and vinegar taste. “Between the two of them? It could be anything.”

Mary blindly thumbs her passcode out and the screen brightens. Shannon opens her messages app. 

Their larger group message - F is for friends who do things together - sits towards the top of Shannon’s messages list, just below the other group message that lists her, Lilith, and Beatrice as its only members. 

Mary’s messages also has a group message named lilith stop changing the group name back to something boring between her, Ava, and Lilith.

“On three?”

They both open their individual messages at the same time. Mary hums something unintelligible. Shannon frowns.

“Ava went-”

“-on a date.”

Shannon leans over to read Mary’s screen.

Ava (8:41 PM): halp i went on a date

Bea (8:41 PM): Ava went on a date last week.

“Did you-”

“-know Ava was seeing someone?” Mary shakes her head. “Did you-”

“-know Ava was interested in seeing anyone?” Shannon shakes her head this time.

Mary hums again, interest piqued. She abandons the bag of chips, brushing her hand off on her dark jeans. Shannon absently reaches over and brushes the crumbs onto the floor. They can vacuum later. When Mary cradles her phone and sinks back against the couch again, Shannon follows her, pulling her legs up under herself as she leans into Mary’s side.

“What are you going to say?”

Mary regards her. “What are you going to say?”

Shannon shrugs. “I’m going to ask Beatrice who the date was with.”

“I’m going to ask Ava that too.”

It’s a race to see who can text back first, and Mary beats Shannon by a few strikes of her thumb against the glass screen. Shannon pulls Mary’s phone over so she can read it.

Mary (8:43 PM): who?

“Who?” she reads. “That’s all you said?”

Mary shrugs, unbothered. “What did you say?”

Shannon (8:43 PM): Who did she go out with?

“I used a full sentence.”

“It’s texting, babe. Full sentences are for-” Mary stops when Shannon arches an eyebrow in a challenge. She smiles, all teeth. “Full sentences are for losers.”

“This loser makes your dinner,” Shannon reminds her.

Mary is still grinning. “I can dial a phone, you know. A whole world of food, right at my fingertips. Besides, don’t pretend like I don’t make a mean chili.” She nods knowingly when Shannon rolls her eyes. “That’s half the reason you’re in love with me, admit it.”

“Yeah, the other half is because of your humility.” Shannon doesn’t bother softening it and Mary laughs. “So humble.”

Mary’s next words are swallowed up by the ding of her phone, Shannon’s phone is half a second behind.

“Who is JC?” Mary asks.

“Someone in Ava’s biology class,” Shannon answers, reading off her phone. “At least, I’m assuming? Bea said Ava went out with someone from her biology class.”

Mary snorts. “Figures that if Ava isn’t giving me all the pieces, Bea is giving the rest to you.”

Shannon smacks Mary’s knee gently. “Don’t be mean. She’s trying.”

“Who, Bea?”

“Ava.”

Mary shakes her head, hiding the smile on her face. “She’s something, that’s for sure.”

Shannon snorts. “Don’t pretend like that kid isn’t one of your favorite people. You have a terrible poker face.” 

Mary’s smile sours into a meaningless scowl. “No, I don’t.” She pulls her phone away from Shannon and thinks for a minute.

Mary (8:44 PM): scale of 1 to 10.

“That’s what you’re going with?” Shannon’s fingers hover over the phone, thinking. “A hotness scale?” 

Mary shrugs. “What’re you going to say?”

“Well I’m not going to ask if he’s cute.”

Mary shrugs again. “Of course not. Bea doesn’t care if he’s hot or not.” She nods at Shannon’s phone. “What’ve you got, Masters?”

“I’ve got a girl in love with her best friend at the other end of these messages. So I need to be… delicate.” 

Mary softens when Shannon looks back at her. “I know.” 

She watches as Shannon turns back to her phone, forehead wrinkling in thought.

Shannon (8:44 PM): How do you think that went?

Satisfied, Shannon sinks further into Mary’s side, warm and soft. Mary smiles, her hand curling around Shannon’s knee, pressing gently against a scar left behind after an ACL tear when she was younger.

They’ve always slotted together so perfectly. They knew it from the moment they met, two terrified freshmen on a large campus with no friends. The study sessions, the lunch breaks between classes. When Shannon finally leaned in, finally curled her fingers around Mary’s jaw and closed her eyes, they each felt something click. A world opened up. Study sessions turned into makeout sessions. Lunch breaks that felt like dates became actual dates. 

Mary had been looking for a home for years. She finally knew what it was like to have one.

Shannon walks her fingers over Mary’s knee. “Do you think they realize we’re sitting right next to each other? I feel like they don’t—otherwise they wouldn’t be talking to us about this.”

Mary shrugs. “It’s Tuesday. You usually work on Tuesday nights. So I’m sure Bea thinks you’re just killing time on your shift, and Ava assumes I’m looking for some kind of entertainment.” 

“Is this entertaining for you?”

Mary grins. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Their phones beep almost simultaneously.

Ava (8:44 PM): mid-8 nice smile

Bea (8:44 PM): She said it wasn’t groundbreaking.

“Groundbreaking,” Mary repeats. “Ava said it wasn’t groundbreaking?”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Shannon shrugs and reaches for the bag of chips again. She doesn’t like salt and vinegar, but she’s also committed to not getting up for anything short of an apocalypse. “Beatrice doesn’t usually misquote people, though.”

Mary makes a face. “Kid surprises me every day.” She hums quietly.

Mary (8:45 PM): and it took you this long to tell me?

Ava (8:45 PM): okay in my defense Ava (8:45 PM): no i’ve got nothing

Mary (8:46 PM): what happened?

She knows Ava. Something had to have happened for her to bring this up. Because she probably buried a terrible date, said forget about it, and focused on other things. Like her next iced coffee. Or Bea.

Ava (8:46 PM): we ran into JC at dinner tonight Ava (8:46 PM): it was weird Ava (8:46 PM): bea has been idk  Ava (8:46 PM): quiet 

Mary snorts. “No shit,” she says out loud. But her brow wrinkles in concern.

Mary (8:46 PM): was he a dick?

Ava (8:47 PM): no, definitely not he’s really nice

Mary nods to herself. Good. Because she’s been short on gym sessions this week, and she could go a few rounds with someone to make up for the difference. Shannon nudges her, catching her attention. “Right. Okay.”

Mary (8:47 PM): going out again?

Shannon rolls her eyes. “You’re so verbose.”

“Don’t be using those million dollar words on me. We’re not all in school for this kind of stuff.”

“Ha.” Shannon elbows Mary gently, soothing the sting of it with a quick press of her lips to Mary’s shoulder. “This kind of stuff is just talking to people, Mary. It’s not limited to just future social workers.”

“Maybe I’m not good at that.”

“I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“Well I think-” Mary cuts off when Shannon’s elbow digs into her side again. She huffs. “Fine. We’re both incredible. I can already see the headlines when you win social worker of the year.”

“That’s not actually a thing,” Shannon points out.

Mary’s face softens, her eyes going somewhere far away for a moment. “It should be. Could have used someone like you when I was in the system.” Shannon’s hand spreads out against Mary’s thigh, warm and weighted. Mary meets Shannon’s eyes, a hesitant smile on her face. “But I know you’ll make sure they’ve got it better than I did.”

“Of course,” Shannon promises quietly.

For a long moment, the air stills between them. Shannon can picture Mary in her freshman year - hard-headed and brash and walls pulled up to her chin. She’s still hard-headed, still brash. But the walls are knee-height now and crumbling every day as Mary lets herself breathe, surrounded by their friends. 

Mary finally smiles and squeezes Shannon’s knee, pouring a thousand unsaid words into her touch. She wants Shannon to know that she saved her life, but sometimes the words don’t come out the right way. So she puts it into touch and hopes that Shannon gets it.

Bea (8:48 PM): Shannon? You still there?

Shannon blinks, the world rushing back in on her. Ava, Bea. Their back and forth high wire act where each of them are afraid to fall - even if Ava doesn’t know that yet.

Shannon (8:48 PM): Sorry, just needed a moment. Shannon (8:48 PM): Does a date need to be groundbreaking?

Bea (8:48 PM) According to Ava, it’s a requirement.

“Want takeout tonight?” Mary asks as they wait. She opens her mouth but the words are cut off as her phone goes off.

Ava (8:48 PM): no, no more dates for me. he’s nice but it’s not groundbreaking

Mary holds up her phone. “Guess Bea wasn’t kidding.”

“Told you,” Shannon says, preening only a little bit. 

Mary (8:49 PM): that’s a lot of expectation going into a first date

Ava (8:49 PM): can’t i have a great romance?

Mary pauses. Of course Ava deserves a great romance. But what is that, exactly? Because she’s sat through movie nights with Ava, people-watched with Ava. She knows Ava thinks The Notebook is romantic and that’s toxic as hell. She knows Ava thinks the two guys who sit under the tree at the quad and share a single iced coffee is romantic, and that’s just gross. 

She knows Ava thinks what she has with Shannon is romantic, and she’s not wrong about that.

“Ask Bea what Ava thinks is ‘groundbreaking’,” she instructs Shannon. She’s curious what the rating system is here.

Shannon (8:49 PM): What does Ava think is groundbreaking? 

Bea (8:49 PM): Leaving the orphanage. Meeting us.

Mary shakes her head. “No way Ava didn’t actually say ‘meeting Beatrice.”

Shannon (8:50 PM): Are you sure she didn’t mean meeting you?

Mary raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Nice and direct there, Masters. I thought you were being delicate.” 

Shannon shrugs and waits patiently for Bea’s response. Sometimes Bea reminds her of the fawn she came across once as a child. Skittish, awkward limbs everywhere as it tried to find its footing and run. But when Shannon approached it, hand out and open, it let her get close. It took a few minutes, Shannon suspended in the middle of the woods. But it slowly approached her and let her touch it, nuzzling into her hand. Beatrice can be like that: skittish, but seeking out comforting touches.

She always thought that it was the best way to approach Bea: slowly, hand open. Ava proved her wrong, crash-landing into Bea’s life with a gracelessness that was endearing from the very beginning. Maybe Bea just needed the right person to cut through her trepidation and bring her out of her shell.

“You can be delicate and still be direct. It just has to be a precision hit,” she replies.

“Hammer vs scalpel,” Mary says nodding. It’s just funny because she and Shannon are always so careful around Bea, whereas Ava always seems to need more of a blunt punch of truth. 

Speaking of which. Okay, so if that’s what Ava thinks…Mary cycles through things in her mind. How does she go about this? If meeting Bea was groundbreaking, then a great romance has to be the same thing. Synonymous, like Mary and Shannon. Her eyes flutter closed as she thinks. Maybe Shannon has a point on blending her approach. 

Ava always thought that mopey girl meeting the vampire was a great romance. And she knows this, but Ava has terrible taste in movies. She really needs to watch something of substance. Like Love and Basketball. But she can work with this.

Mary (8:50 PM): thought great romances were reserved for your vampire book

Mary has a plan. She’s easing Ava into a conversation. Because Mary knows that Ava wants a great romance. More importantly, she deserves it. She just might not know that she wants - and deserves it - with Beatrice.

Their phones ding in double time, the replies chasing after each other. 

Bea (8:51 PM): I’m sure she meant ‘us’ and not me.

Ava (8:51 PM): bella isn’t the only one who deserves a sparkly love interest

Mary puts her phone down for a moment. “How are we doing this?”

Shannon thinks about it for a minute. “I’m not sure,” she admits.

Mary sighs. “Ava can be as dense as that meatloaf you made once and - hey! It was!” She ducks the hand Shannon sends towards her shoulder. “I just mean, she’s either sitting behind a huge wall named Denial, or she really doesn’t get it. So we need to, like, be smart about this.” She sighs. “Why are we doing this?”

“Because Lilith would do a horrible job at it?”

Mary snorts. “You got that right.”

At least Ava knows she deserves happiness. Kid hasn’t had a lot of love in her life, with the raw deal she got growing up. Mary knows something about that. So maybe Ava doesn’t need a delicate touch, but a little positive reinforcement and reassurance that she does deserve love from someone who gets it doesn’t hurt.

Mary (8:53 PM) no kid, you do too

“Bea is just as bad.” Shannon holds up her phone. “I know for a fact that Ava said Bea and not us, but she’s going to pretend like that isn’t true because that means she has to face a reality where Ava feels the same way about her as she does about Ava.”

“Maybe you should have gone into psychology.”

Shannon makes a face. “Absolutely not.” 

Shannon (8:53 PM): Bea. Even if she didn’t say you, you’re allowed to want her to have.  Shannon (8:53 PM): And if she did, you’re allowed to acknowledge what that means.

Bea (8:54 PM): I’m not sure what it means.

Shannon groans as she reads Bea’s response. She takes a deep, steadying breath. She loves Beatrice. She’s loved her from the minute they crossed paths in their English seminar - a sophomore level class that Bea tested into. But for someone so smart, she sometimes tends to miss signs right in front of her face. 

No, Shannon thinks. She can read the signs. But the years with her parents… Maybe she just doesn’t want to see them. Maybe she doesn’t trust them. Maybe she just needs a little nudge.

Shannon (8:55 PM): I think you know what it means.

Mary breaks her concentration as she reads Ava’s text out loud, forehead pinched in thought. 

Ava (8:55 PM): i just don’t know if i’ll get it.

Mary sighs. “Are we sure Lilith can’t do this?” She goes to text back, but three grey dots pop up before she can, so she waits.

Ava (8:55 PM): but i think Ava (8:55 PM): i think i realized something

She shoves her phone under Shannon’s nose, all thoughts of Lilith taking over flying out of her mind. “Babe.”

Shannon’s reply is swallowed up by Bea’s next message. 

Bea (8:56 PM): Correction: I don’t think I’m allowed to want it to mean what I think it means.

Shannon sighs. “Oh, Bea.”

Mary doesn’t hear her, too wrapped up as she frantically types, backspaces, types, and backspaces again. “Do I play dumb?” she asks herself. “Or do I just say finally?” She types something out and erases it one more time before she sends something.

Mary (8:56 PM): what’s that?

Shannon (8:57 PM): And in a perfect world, what do you want it to mean?”

Three grey dots pop up on Mary’s screen and linger there long enough that Mary puts her phone down and picks through her bag of chips until she finds one big enough that when she fits the whole thing in her mouth, she has to blow out her cheeks to keep it in there. Shannon makes a noise of mild disgust.

Shannon’s phone beeps first. 

Bea (8:58 PM): I think you know.

Shannon (8:58 PM) Lightning won’t strike you down if you say it.

“Might,” Mary mumbles through a mouthful of chips. Shannon’s eyes cut to her. “What? You know Bea is thinking it.” 

Shannon can’t really argue with that, so she doesn’t try. She just waits for Bea’s response, which comes quicker than she thought it might. 

Bea (8:59 PM): I want her to mean that I’m groundbreaking.

“Atta girl,” Shannon whispers to herself.

Shannon (8:59 PM): You are.

Mary’s phone finally beeps. 

Ava (8:59 PM): i was thinking about it and Ava (8:59 PM): bea is groundbreaking, you know?

Mary (9:00 PM): obviously

It’s a gut reaction, but Mary texts back before she can stop herself. She almost follows it up with something softer to cut the edge off it. 

But she’s been watching Ava trip over herself the last few months and honestly, it’s a bit exhausting to not want to sit her down and bop her over the head with a printed book of all the texts Ava has sent her talking about how Bea looks today, or what Bea said today, or how she wants to do something, but has to check with Bea first.

The book would cost her an insane amount of money to print and it would be bigger than the Shakespeare text she uses as a door stopper since she spilled orange juice on it and can’t sell it back.

Ava (9:00 PM): what do you mean obviously?! Ava (9:00 PM): mary Ava (9:00 PM): mARY Ava (9:00 PM): what does THAT mean?!

Mary stifles a laugh, lets a sigh slip through, and closes her phone. She lets her head fall to the back of the couch and takes a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Mary’s phone goes off again, beep after beep after beep after beep. She doesn’t dare pick it up. 

Shannon picks up Mary’s phone, types in the passcode, and chuckles as she catches up on Ava’s messages. “You really shouldn’t have.”

Then her own phone dings, catching her attention.

Bea (9:02 PM) But I’m not sure she really feels that way. Surely, she would say something.

“Do you ever want to wrap them up in, like, the world’s tightest hug?” Shannon asks.

“Sometimes I want to wrap them to a post and leave them there until they figure their shit out.”

Mary’s phone goes off again and she picks it up this time, opening her messages.

Ava (9:02 PM): there’s nothing OBVIOUS about it Ava (9:02 PM): it’s rude actually Ava (9:02 PM): to say something like that and just NOT ANSWER UR MESSAGES Ava (9:02 PM): Mary pick up your phone. Ava (9:01 PM): at least when i told bea it wasn’t groundbreaking she didn’t go RADIO SILENT Ava (9:01 PM): in fact we went out for coffee because i got bea one but Ava (9:01 PM): wait

Mary smiles slowly. There it is.

Shannon glances at Mary, most of her attention still on her conversation with Bea. She’s making headway, she can feel it. Bea at least admitting that Ava could maybe feel the same way about her is step one. Step two is getting Bea to just say it out loud.

Shannon (9:03 PM): She can’t say something if she doesn’t know.

Bea (9:03 PM): I certainly can’t tell her.

Mary reads over her shoulder. “She certainly should. Because it would save all of us a lot of trouble.”

Ava (9:04 PM): Mary.

Mary (9:04 PM): Ava

“How do you tell someone that the person they’re hopelessly in love with is hopelessly in love with them? Asking for a friend.”

Shannon ignores her.

Shannon (9:05 PM): Bea, you don’t need to tell her right now. Shannon (9:05 PM): But you should think about it.

“What do you think the odds are that they’re sitting next to each other on the couch right now?”

Shannon snorts. “That sounds exactly like something they would do.”

“Picture it,” Mary continues. “Sitting on opposite ends of the couch but you know Ava’s got her feet all over Bea which is disgusting. And they’re probably having a charged conversation where they talk about the weather being nice, but Ava is really talking about Bea’s eyes or whatever. And they’re just… texting us about each other.”

Shannon laughs this time. “How did we end up like this? Mom-ing two helplessly in-love-with-each-other - and I say this affectionately - idiots?”

“I must have really pissed someone off in a past life.” 

Ava (9:05 PM): bea IS groundbreaking

Mary (9:05 PM): you’re repeating yourself

Ava (9:05 PM): i’ve always thought so

Mary (9:06 PM): i’m not going to argue with you

Mary leans into Shannon’s side. “Be honest. They would benefit from some professional help, wouldn’t they?” She dodges Shannon’s hand again. “Or at least someone like Camila. If Ava wants to go for a drink or throw some darts or fix an engine, I can do that.”

“Okay dad,” Shannon snorts.

Bea (9:07 PM): I can’t think about it. Because if I think about it, I’m going to tell her. And if I tell her and she doesn’t say it back, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Shannon (9:07 PM): You’ll do what you always do. Persevere.  Shannon (9:07 PM): But I don’t think you’ll need to.

Mary’s screen lights up with a text that she thinks about ignoring. She shouldn’t have opened this box, shouldn’t have pried at the lock that held back this little revelation. She should have just said it was nice that Ava went on a date and left it at this JC guy being an 8. She should have put down her phone and focused on wowing Shannon with the pico de gallo she managed to make earlier.

Ava (9:07 PM): she’s my favorite person, full offense

Mary (9:08 PM): like that’s going to offend me. i’m shannon’s

Ava (9:08 PM): do you think i’m bea’s

Mary drops her phone. “Nope. I’m not doing this.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Shannon picks up the abandoned phone and scrolls back a few messages, eyes tracking the conversation. She laughs at Ava’s last message, before handing the phone back to Mary. “Ava loves fishing for compliments, doesn’t she?”

“She’s fishing in the wrong pond,” Mary retorts, punching out a quick response. 

Mary (9:09 PM): focus, silva

“She should try the other side of her couch.”

Shannon glances at her own phone and considers what the person sitting on the other side of Ava’s couch is thinking at this very moment. A minute stretches on with nothing from Bea. Shannon starts to worry her bottom lip between her teeth. 

She’s not trying to push. But Bea deserves something amazing to happen to her. And they can all - even Mary - admit that Ava is the most amazing thing that’s happened to Beatrice.  A needed respite for all the ways the world has let Bea down in the past. She nearly drops her phone in relief when it goes off.

Bea (9:11 PM): I’m not ready.

Shannon (9:11 PM): No one is ever ready for love.

Bea (9:12 PM): What if I never am?

There’s a fluttering in Shannon’s chest where her heart skips a beat at Bea’s text. Bea is so much more ready than she thinks she is, Shannon knows it. But she also knows that Bea’s parents run deep in her mind and that’s hard to overcome. It doesn’t matter, though. If she knows anything about Ava, she knows that her patience with Bea is neverending.

Shannon (9:13 PM): Someone who loves you won’t worry about that. Someone who loves you will want you to take your time, if that’s what you need. Love isn’t linear, Bea.

Three dots appear on her screen for a long moment before they disappear. Shannon takes a deep breath and hopes she hasn’t pushed it. 

Needing something else to do, she peers at Mary’s phone. “Are you-” 

A beep cuts her off.

Ava (9:13 PM): right. but if SHE’S groundbreaking that means…

“She’s going to be the death of me,” Mary groans.

Mary (9:13 PM): that means…

Ava (9:14 PM): hypothetical question Ava (9:14 PM): how do you know if you’re in love with your best friend or not?

“Finally!!”

“Mary,” Shannon scolds.

Mary (9:14 PM) i’m sure there’s a buzzfeed quiz for that

“Mary.”

Ava (9:15 PM): mary 

Mary (9:15 PM): ava 

Ava (9:15 PM): i’m serious

Mary (9:16 PM) so am i  Mary (9:17 PM): but if you don’t want to dig through the internet to find one Mary (9:17 PM): let me tell you what your results would be Mary (9:17 PM): you are

Shannon’s phone goes off and she mistypes her passcode twice before she manages to get it open. Mary leans over, hooking her chin on Shannon’s shoulder to read the message with her.

Bea (9:18 PM): She deserves someone who isn’t afraid to be in love with her.

“That’s not fair,” Mary says quietly. “That’s not fair to her.”

Shannon frowns. “To Ava?”

“To Bea.”

Shannon (9:19 PM): You’re not afraid to be in love with her. You’re afraid of the world around your love. Your parents did a number on you, Bea. That takes time to get over.

Their phones go quiet for a while. So long that Mary gets up and puts away the chips, and Shannon tidies up the kitchen. They decide on getting Thai for dinner because Ava sent them a Snapchat of her leftovers this morning with Bea in the background wearing a disapproving face. Ava had captioned it: she doesn’t like it when i eat over the sink.

By the time she finishes setting out the plates for dinner, Mary is just about to give up on her conversation with Ava. It’s stalled out. Ava will swing by before her class tomorrow for pancakes at the student cafeteria, and they’ll talk about whatever Ava is obsessed with this week - last week it was the manatees she saw in a video when she was supposed to be studying for an exam. They’ll pretend like this never happened, like Ava didn’t come to some big revelation on a Tuesday night in the middle of February while Mary is in her socks with the little handcuffs on them.

She likes that idea. That works best for her. But just as she thinks it, her phone beeps.

Ava (9:31 PM): i am?

Mary (9:31 PM): do you not know that?

“Shannon, help me,” Mary groans, even as she starts texting back. 

Ava (9:32 PM): there’s a lot i’m realizing i don’t know right now

“Go fucking figure,” she mutters. Her fingers fly over the keyboard.

Mary (9:32 PM): let me break it down for you. you went out with this guy last week?

Ava (9:32 PM): tuesday yeah

Mary (9:33 PM): and it was okay Mary (9:33 PM): it wasn’t groundbreaking or earth-shattering or anything that totally rocked your world Mary (9:33 PM): but your best friend is someone who checks all those boxes?

There’s another long pause, another minute of three gray dots dancing on her screen before Ava’s text pops up in its place.

Ava (9:35 PM): you’ve met her

Mary (9:36 PM): but i don’t think the sun shines out of her ass Mary (9:36 PM): and she’s one of my best friends, but i don’t know if i’d call her earth-shaking or whatever  Mary (9:37 PM): because i’m not in love with her.  Mary (9:37 PM): i don’t spend every moment talking to her or about her or wishing i could do those things Mary (9:38 PM): but you…

Mary glances at Shannon but she’s too busy, bent over her phone. She doesn’t even notice the eye roll that Mary sends her phone. Or the tongue she sticks out. Or that she immediately goes to her internet browser, finds the picture she’s looking for, and saves Ava’s new contact image as a clown.

Across the room, Shannon sits back on the couch and stares intently at her screen, willing a message to come through even as it remains blank. She sends out a quiet prayer to whoever is listening that Beatrice allows herself to give into this feeling, to let herself feel like she deserves this kind of love. 

Finally, a bubble pops up.

Beatrice (9:39 PM): I should be over it.

Shannon frowns.

Shannon (9:39 PM): Show me the person who says you should be over it.

Beatrice (9:39 PM): I’m afraid I’d be looking in a mirror.

“Oh, Bea,” Shannon breathes. She has to take a minute. She has to breathe in slowly and count to 7 before she exhales and counts to 11, and in between those spaces she feels her heart break just a little bit.

Shannon (9: 40 PM): Then cover your mirrors and come talk to me instead.

Satisfied with her clown selection, Mary plops down next to Shannon and switches back to her conversation with Ava. She realizes she’s just dropping bomb after bomb right now, throwing them like firecrackers and imagining Ava dance around them. She can practically see them exploding in Ava’s eyes as Mary’s words rearrange what Ava had thought before this conversation.

This is big. This is Mary holding up a mirror to Ava’s face and telling her to look at the truth. Part of her knows she’s going to regret this. If Ava didn’t shut up about Bea before, now that Mary has said something, has opened the proverbial door… God, she’s going to be so annoying.

Ava (9:41 PM): there’s so much to say about her though Ava (9:41 PM): she’s funny and she’s insanely intelligent Ava (9:41 PM): and she’s the first person i want to talk to when something good happens Ava (9:42 PM): or something bad Ava (9:42 PM): or something funny  Ava (9:42 PM): oh. Ava (9:42 PM): shit. 

Something occurs to Mary, and she closes her messages, opening her phone’s calendar. She scrolls back a week and her eyes widen as she reads the date.

Mary (9:43 PM): girl, i just checked the calendar. you went out with this guy on valentine’s day?!

Ava (9:43 PM): i didn’t notice!

Mary (9:43 PM): and THEN you went home and took BEA out for coffee?

Ava (9:44 PM): which wasn’t a date

Mary (9:44 PM): from the sounds of it, coulda fooled me

Mary nearly throws her phone but the only place for it to go is over Shannon’s legs onto the other couch cushion. 

And Shannon has that look on her face like she wants to cry or scream or do both, so Mary’s priorities shift. She puts the phone down on the table and turns, sliding one arm across Shannon’s shoulders and rubs her fingers against the bone there.

“Hey,” she murmurs. “You okay?”

“I don’t know why she’s so hard on herself.” Shannon sighs. “I mean, I know why she is. And if I ever meet her parents-”

“There’s a line, I know.”

“And I’m at the front of it.”

Mary smiles humorlessly. “I think you might be second.”

“Good,” Shannon murmurs. “Bea needs as many people in her life as she can get.”

“Who she has is a good place to start.” Mary rubs at Shannon’s shoulder again and leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head.

Bea (9:46 PM): Ava says that sometimes, she wishes she could fight my mind for me.

Shannon (9:46 PM): I think you should let her.

Bea (9:47 PM): I think she would win.

Shannon (9:47 PM): Good Shannon (9:47 PM): It’s because she loves you, Beatrice.

Bea (9: 48 PM): I’m worried that, if she ever did, that feeling would be long gone before I was ready.

Mary shifts away as Shannon focuses on her phone, tongue poked out between her teeth as she starts a long message. It’s been a minute since Ava texted her back. A long time for Ava, who fires off texts as quickly as her thoughts come. But this whole conversation has been filled with pauses. It’s a different side of Ava.

It’s an Ava who had the world shift and is now dealing with the fallout. Mary gets it.

But she wonders, is deciding to be in a relationship so hard for other people? 

Because it wasn’t hard for her. It was probably one of the easiest things she’s ever done in her life. It happened so naturally, so - what’s the word Camila says? Organically. She’s so in love with Shannon, even if she shrugs it off when people poke fun at her for it. She’s not above telling anyone how much Shannon means to her, but she is better at showing it. 

Acts of service, Camila told her, when they did some stupid quiz where they asked about love languages. She hadn’t even known there were so many of them. She always thought she was just kind of okay at loving Shannon. Turns out, she was doing better than she thought, giving Shannon what it seemed like she wanted and needed. And once she figured it out, it happened as naturally as their relationship did. Maybe they just got lucky to have it so easy. 

Her phone beeps and Mary rolls her eyes at Ava’s message. Or maybe she and Shannon were just smart enough to use their damn words.

Ava (9:48 PM): do you think she’d want to go out with me?

Mary (9:48 PM): i don’t get paid enough for this conversation.

Ava (9:49 PM): my friendship is payment enough

Shannon hears Mary huff, feels the air across her shoulder. But she’s too busy to turn and give her the attention, too focused to hear about whatever thing Ava said that made Mary feel like she needed to pretend to be annoyed. Because she’s trying to come up with something to make Bea understand that she is worth all the praise people bestow on her. She’s so brave, so committed to healing the wounds her parents etched into her.

Bea needs to know that despite them, she is coming into who she deserves to be. And she’s got someone she deserves to love within her reach.

Shannon (9:51 PM): Anyone who is worth your time will understand and hold that space for you until you’re ready for something so big. You ARE making progress, Bea. I remember you as a freshman, so afraid of your own shadow. And now you’re bold and strong. You’ve come so far. And Ava has been a big part of that. She’s brought out this part of you that everyone knew you had, but you were too afraid to show. Shannon (9:52 PM): She’s good for you.

And before Bea can say anything, Shannon texts her again.

Shannon (9:52 PM): I know you’d be good for her too.

Shannon bites her lip and thinks before she types out, “You should tell her how you feel. She won’t say no.” But she stops and erases it. Maybe it’s too much for Bea to handle right now. Maybe she needs to slow down.

But another part of her, a voice that whispers excitedly in her ear and sounds just like her mother before she gives away a particularly juicy bit of gossip, says, “You could say it.” 

She could. She could be the little push that gets the cart rolling. She could be the one at their wedding telling this story. She can see it in her mind: Bea, flushed with embarrassment. Ava, smiling fondly and teasing Bea for having a crush on her. She can hear the glasses clinking as people call for a kiss and feel the claps on her shoulder when people thank her for helping them take that first step.

Mary sinks further back into the couch and stretches her legs out on the coffee table. Shannon doesn’t even notice. She’s working something over in her mind, and she has this look on her face. Mary can see the wheels turning, recognizes exactly where she’s seen that look before, and she doesn’t like where they’re going.

“We’re not playing matchmaker,” she warns.

Shannon’s cheeks pinken slightly. “Did I say we were going to play matchmakers?”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it written all over your face.” Mary shakes her head when Shannon opens her mouth to argue, resolutely. “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

“We’re already in the middle of this,” Shannon points out.

“Fine. We’re not getting more in the middle of this.” Mary says it firmly. “These two idiots need to figure the rest out on their own. They don’t need hand-holding.”

“I think that this conversation has proven they need hand-holding,” Shannon argues. 

Mary can’t tell her that’s not true, because it is. Ava is coming to a lot of realizations tonight, and she wouldn’t have gotten there without Mary sticking herself into the middle of it. She knows it. Shannon knows it. And that infuriatingly addictive smile slowly stretching across her face, transforming into a full blown grin means Shannon knows she knows it too. 

“No,” she warns. She opens her mouth to say more when her phone goes off again.

Ava (9:53 PM): mary, i can’t not think about this now

Mary (9: 54 PM): could you talk to me about it a little less?

Ava (9:55 PM): but you’re the only one who knows!

Mary snorts. “I don’t think you’re that slick, kid.”

Shannon laughs as she reads it. “No, the only one who doesn’t know is Bea.” Her head tilts to the side, a knowing look crossing her face. “You still think they don’t need a little nudge?” 

Mary sighs, surrendering to Shannon’s logic and gives in.

Mary (9:56 PM): listen, baby girl. don’t just think about it. do something about it! 

Ava (9:56 PM): i don’t want to do something she doesn’t want to do Ava (9:56 PM): this isn’t trying jamaican food from the burrito place Ava (9:56 PM): this is our friendship

This means the world to me, Mary reads between the lines. She can’t help but smile. Mary talks a lot of shit most days, grunts her way through conversations that require a bit more finesse than she’s comfortable with, but she’s got a soft spot for her friends. A softer spot for Ava.

Ava (9:57 PM): i don’t wanna fuck this up

Ava has a lot of them wrapped around her finger. Even Lilith, who would never admit it, even under penalty of death. But it’s there. It’s real. They’d all go to the ends of the Earth for Ava Silva. Beatrice would be leading the charge.

Mary (9:57 PM): then just hold onto it for now. you don’t have to say anything yet Mary (9:58 PM): but you should think about it Mary (9:58 PM): because i think you’d be good together.  Mary (9:59 PM): and you’re right. you deserve a sparkly love interest. and bea is miles better looking than that edward guy

Ava (9:59): i knew you were paying attention last weekend

Mary (9:59 PM): you don’t know shit

Ava sends back an emoji with its tongue hanging out and its eyes rolling around its head. Mary closes her phone. That’s enough for tonight.

Shannon opens her phone one last time. Bea probably won’t text her back tonight, but that’s okay. She doesn’t open herself up a lot, doesn’t always tell Shannon what she’s thinking. She hopes Bea does that with Ava. She hopes Bea lets Ava see all the parts of herself that she hides away from everyone else, afraid to look those parts of herself in the eyes. 

Because Bea deserves it. Bea, in Ava’s words, deserves her own great romance.

She deserves it with someone who loves her as much as Ava seems like she does.

And Ava might not have known it. Ava may have just figured it out tonight, pieces she didn’t notice independently coming together into a whole picture. But Ava does now. And Ava will continue to love Bea the way she deserves to be loved. Shannon knows it just by looking at the two of them together. The way they fit so easily, the way she fits with Mary.

Shannon (10:00 PM): Be honest. Be direct. Tell her how you feel. If you never say anything, you’ll never know and you might just miss your chance. Shannon (10:00 PM): Just use your words, Beatrice. You’ll be surprised what happens when you do.

She sighs, sinking down into the cushion and dropping her head down on Mary’s shoulder. “We’re totally the parents of the friend group.”

“I hate that.”

Shannon smiles as she turns her head, pressing it into Mary’s soft shirt and breathing in the smell of sandalwood and their laundry detergent. This is her favorite place to be in the world, tucked into Mary’s side like there’s no one else around. 

Her mind goes to Bea. Is that what she feels like when she’s with Ava? She hopes so. Everyone deserves to have this feeling at one point in their lives. For all of their life, if they’re lucky. 

“Think they’ll take our advice?” Mary asks quietly.

Shannon thinks about it. “In time. They’ll figure it out when they’re ready.”

“Lord help me, it better be before we graduate.” Mary shimmies down a little, catching the television remote with her foot and kicking it towards Shannon’s hand. “Because if they haven’t gotten it together by graduation night, I’m going to sic Lilith on them.”

Shannon laughs and presses the power button on the remote. “No you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” Mary mumbles. “But I’ll want to.”

Shannon pats her knee gently. “I know, babe.”

Mary turns, presses her lips to the crown of Shannon’s head. “I love you.”

Something soft in Shannon’s chest melts even further. “I love you too.”

She feels Mary smile against her hair and then turn her attention back to the television. They’re done talking about feelings for the night and that’s okay. Mary will make her tea before bed and pull down her side of the comforter and leave the bathroom light on for her when she’s done brushing her teeth. And in the morning she’ll make Shannon breakfast even though she’s going to go eat with Ava, and she’ll say I love you a hundred different ways that aren’t those three little words.

Sometimes, that’s enough. But sometimes, Shannon likes to hear the way they sound coming out of Mary’s mouth. 

And she knows Ava will like the way they sound coming out of Bea’s mouth too. 

You can do it, Beatrice, she thinks to herself. Just be brave.

(more forever roomates)

[stjernespiller]

Another eye

Can also be found on AO3

You can’t see anything.

Blood drips from your face. You think it hurts, in that distant way everything does now. You try to get it out of your eye, just enough to see the fight, but your vision stays dark through the wet sounds of blood and flesh.

Stupid, you think to yourself. Stupid stupid idiot, zoning out in a battle. Should have just looped forward to the king instead of taking that bathroom break and fighting the floor boss. Couldn’t even blinding cry, so what did it matter?

Your family members are speaking. They don’t do that much in battle. You should probably listen.

Bonnie is crying.

Mirabelle heals you again, a light feeling drifting over you that does nothing to take away the weight in your stomach. You don’t know why she did it again, you just need to get this blood out of your eye and you can go back to the fight, stop zoning out just enough to beat the sadness blocking your way to asking the king the question you’ve been dreading.

Isabeau is saying something very close to you. You think it’s him, at least, from the deeper tone. You can’t hear it. Can’t fight can’t see can’t hear. You’re pathetic.

He touches your face.

It’s- new, strange, unexpected. You flinch, and he takes his hand back, like your family always does because you’re so weak you can’t even handle being touched. But the hand only leaves for a moment before it’s back again, holding your cheek. you stand very, very still.

Is the fight over? It has to be. You almost had it before you got distracted and let yourself get hit. Maybe Isabeau and Odile got it while Mirabelle was healing you. He wouldn’t be touching you like this if the sadness was still attacking, back turned to where it stood.

He wipes the blood away from your eye, unstained hand doing a much better job than yours had. You still can’t see. You still can’t hear what any of them are saying. He sounds close to tears, though.

Ah. You know why you can’t see.

It clears your hearing. Fear, for some reason, leaves when you exhale. You breathe deep in, again, and a full sense of calmness fills the space of the fear you breathe out.

The blood hadn’t covered your eye, it was coming out of it. Stupid Siffrin didn’t pay attention to the fight and lost another eye.

Isabeau is cursing, voice wet with tears. His other hand cups your jaw, keeping your head in place. He wipes more blood away, touching your eyeball with so much gentleness you feel it should heal it. Mirabelle crafts another healing spell, and Odile asks Bonnie for the one sweet tonic you picked up this loop.

You pick up your wooden arms, raising them slowly, like through a thick fog, to land your hands on Isabeau’s. He drops his hands from your face. You’re speaking to your whole party when you say, “It won’t work.”

Bonnie sobs. Someone, likely Odile, pours a tonic on your eye anyway.

You just need to get to a frozen tear. You don’t remember where they are, but maybe you could convince your family to lead you to one. If you could find some excuse. Or just swing your arms around until you hit one.

“The head housemaiden could heal you,” Mirabelle whispers, voice just as teary as Isabeau’s. “I should have taken more healing classes. Studied more on my own. I can’t do it. And by the time we get to her...”

She trails of. Crafts another healing cure. It works just as well as the others.

Healing of this scale needs to be done quick. You know, because you all talked about it when you lost your first eye, and when Isabeau showed you a small scar on his bicep. Go more than an hour or two without the right healing craft, and it’ll be permanent.

An idea lights up in your mind. You turn your head, but it all stays black, and you can’t look anyone in the eye.

“We can find a tear. Freeze me.” It’s so perfect. You almost have to stop yourself from grinning. The best excuse you could have ever asked for. “when you beat the king and everyone unfreezes, someone can help me.”

The lie is easy, as easy as all the others you’ve filled these two days with. They won’t beat the king without you. You won’t unfreeze with everyone else, and the head housemaiden will never help you. But you need to see to fight, and you need to loop to see, and you need a tear to loop.

It’s quiet for a moment. “Will that work?” Odile asks, voice strangely soft.

“It’s worth a try.”

“We’ll find a tear!” Bonnie yells. They either stamp their foot or jump in place. “We’ll defeat the king and you’ll get your eye back!” their voice is still wet. You don’t know why. Are they scared of fighting the king without you? Now you’re thinking about the loop you let them go alone. Stars, you really are an awful person. Of course they’re scared when you can’t keep fighting, and just before the king, too.

“Let’s bandage it until then.” Mirabelle says, and a piece of cloth presses against your face. It’s nice and cool. “Your coat is all dark know.”

Odile, you think, listening to the footsteps, start walking. “We can’t go back,” she says, “hopefully there will be some tears further in.”

You walk after her. The corridor is as familiar to you as the rest of this blinding house. You don’t need an eye to know the way.

Isabeau still hovers beside you, steps heavy but careful. He doesn’t offer to guide you, probably afraid to touch you, but you can imagine his arm reaching out, hovering above your shoulder, ready to steer you away from the walls or the floor or what else you might kill yourself on. Fragile little Siffrin, can’t walk on his own.

Bonnie is to your other side, rushing ahead for two steps at a time before falling back again, never straying far. They hiccup, and audibly sniff their snot in. You feel awful. The tear is close. You just need to loop.

Mirabelle walks in front of you with Odile. You can almost feel her continuously looking back at you, footsteps irregular in that familiar pattern. You don’t know why it’s familiar, and when you try to remember, it slips away like lightless sand between your fingers.

The air is tense. You slip into your mind, a little. Claude is up ahead, frozen in time with the secret ingredient. You turn a corner, and don’t think about how strange it looks to your family for you to walk through the corridor like this. Isabeau calling you graceful is there, memory pushing itself to the front of your mind, but you don’t force yourself to act as if you don’t know this place better than yourself. They won’t remember.

“Does it hurt?” Bonnie whispers besides you. You instinctively look towards them, but still see nothing but darkness around you. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course it hurts.” Their voice is still wet. They sniffle. “You just act like it doesn’t.”

You’ve been acting a lot. Almost everything feels like a secret, a lie, a play. This isn’t one of them. “It’s just an eye.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN JUST AN EYE?!” Bonnie yells, and their voice is still wet, but it cracks in fury. “You always do this, you don’t care about anything! It’s your eye, you can’t see, you lost both of them now! You have to care!”

They hate you. You remember, now, that they don’t love you. You couldn’t get yourself to help them this loop, too tired from hearing the same thing again and again and again. In this moment, Bonnie hasn’t hugged you. In this moment, you haven’t talked with Bonnie about losing your first eye. In this moment, they still hate you.

But it’s fine. You’re on your way to a tear. You’ve all been walking this stretch for a while, Mirabelle should see Claude soon, and then they’ll find the safe room, and after that - you think you’ve seen tears there before.

“It’s just an eye,” you say again, because you can’t bring yourself to pretend any differently, that it matters to you more than having to loop and run through the third floor again. “I’ve lost worse.”

Bonnie doesn’t respond. Claude has to be here soon, right? Was she always this deep in the corridor?

"How is your eyes not the worst thing you've lost?" Mirabelle asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear her. The kind of question she doesn’t expect a response to.

You shouldn’t respond. You don’t want to respond. How can you. You can’t speak it’s name, can’t tell them anything about it, and you already didn’t help Odile this loop because you couldn’t bring yourself to follow the blinding script again when she won’t understand and won’t remember and won’t care.

“I lost my home,” you say anyway, because it’s all one big cosmic joke. They won’t remember anyway. It doesn’t matter. “And I don’t even remember it.”

Does your country matter, if no one remembers it?

Isabeau speaks up, always the emotionally mature one. “I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”

“You never remember anything,” Bonnie sniffles, sounding tired. The kind of exhausted you get calming down from crying. You wish your stupid eye would let you cry.

You’ve already broken the dam. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. “I don’t.” Isabeau tugs at you cloak, pulling you slightly towards him. He lets you go, a meter more to the left of the corridor than before, and doesn’t explain anything. You don’t ask.

“Not even the word for a stuffed animal. Or a sharpening stone, which you use all the time. Or bananas.” It seems to calm Bonnie down, listing all the things you don’t remember. You follow along.

“Not the name for all the birds in Dormount. What bonding earring are. What we did last week. My family. My country. Your names, that one time.”

It doesn’t calm you down. Or the others, for that matter. Isabeau stopped walking. The other three follow suit.

You stop too, because the others did. Then you wish you had kept going, because now you’re just standing here, and you still can’t see anything.

“Sif...” Isabeau starts, soft and careful. “I’m sorry. We’ve been poking fun at your memory, but this... We need to talk, after we beat the king.”

You don’t want to talk. Have you already made the pun on your memory this loop? Bonnie said you couldn’t remember the name, so probably, you need something else, something to divert the attention, it doesn’t matter because they’ll forget but right now they remember and you don’t want to talk.

“Aren’t there any tears here?” You ask, and it comes out harsher than you planned.

“Oh! No, not yet, but there’s a door here, maybe on the other side?” Mirabelle sounds nervous and jumpy. Did you do that? Stars, you’re awful.

Then you think. There’s a door, and you hear someone open it. Claude was before the door. She was, you know it, you can’t have forgotten that, Mirabelle stops you all and says the same thing every time.

Did you all walk past her? Did... did Mirabelle change the script? Because you’re blind now?

Your head hurts. You walk towards the door, and only need to follow the wall for a moment before you reach it, having been pulled from the middle of the corridor by Isabeau. Was that.... because of Claude? Did he pull you out of the way?

When Mirabelle tells everyone to hurry through the safe room, they do so. No one talks about taking a break, and Odile’s stomach doesn’t rumble. You’re through the room without eating or touching the star.

“There!” Bonnie yells, first out of the second door.

“A tear,” Odile says simply. “Two, actually. Pick your poison, Siffrin.”

You chuckle, just a little. Lean right. But you don’t actually know where in the room the tears are. You just know the door to the king is straight ahead.

“Can I lead you to it?” Isabeau offers. You empty your mind, think of nothing, and hold out your hand.

He guides you in an arch. Let’s go of your hand. You reach out, and dream of nothing.

[possiblyfunny]

Hello again, fellas. (And to whoever is actually interested in looking at my weird little AU-) Sanctuary has been on my mind lately and uhhh, I’d like to introduce you to some new characters!

Meet the Eventide Duo: REI and KAI!

I, like with Aster and Del, have never drawn them before, and because I honestly didn’t have it in me to do two full-body drawings with color and everything, doodling them was the next best thing. I’ve been thinking about these two a lot and just really wanted to get them down as a start. Soooo—this is their first pass and things are subject to change! (Please excuse the messiness-)

Rei (the Red) and Kai (the Blue) come from—okay this is kinda funny now that I’m writing it out—their AU was inspired by an FNF fan song that I heard awhile back. It was something like “Frostbite but Blue.” The person who made the song (I don’t remember their name off the top of my head) said they were going to post the lore, but as far as I know they never did, so my brain kinda took the concept and ran with it—making it into my own story. (Sorry to whoever that was-)

Rei is the fledgling god of the Sun and the Second Coming of Arceus. He ascended to godhood after his untimely death, returning to earth to protect the one he loves. Rei may look like a massive grump, but in reality, he's a ray of sunshine and one of the most warm-hearted and protective people you'll ever meet. Kai is still a Pokémon Trainer, but he’s also Rei's singular devotee. He's honestly pretty quiet for a Blue, if not a bit high-strung, but he's loyal and sweet, even if he has a bit of a hard time showing it.

The both of them worked together to survive the violent floods and rainfall that devastated their original home, and now live a quiet life together in Sanctuary, going on little adventures here and there to try and reclaim the life they lost bit by bit.

(Okay, time to tag my one fan. @100nebulas , I think you said you wanted more Sanctuary content in general that one time, so I guess you’re gonna be eternally tagged in these lmao. Hope you enjoy :])

[javierduffy]

I have been having... a very bad day. Any spare fluffy headcanons for the boys? (and maybe some nsfw ones if you're up to it-)

ohh no my dear helena !!! its unfortunate that you’re having a rough day today :( remember that everything is temporary and that this day, like every other hard day before (and all following after), will pass in its own time.

i can absolutely spare some fluff ! that’s all i’ve got !

• javier goes to bed at about the same time that kieran is waking up every morning, right before dawn, and it’s a common occurrence that he will forget to untie his hair before laying down for bed, especially after a long night of guard duty. kieran will notice every time, and knows himself how easily long hair can get matted, so he will beckon javier over so that he can untie his bow. usually, he’ll also take the time to run his fingers through javier’s hair to detangle it as well, so that he’s even less likely to wake up to knots. javier adores it, teetering with the weight of his head and leaning hard into kieran’s legs on each side of his shoulders- sometimes kieran will even indulge himself in giving javier a head massage. javier never sleeps better, and coincidentally, he began forgetting to take his hair down a lot more after moving out to clemen’s point ….

• javier snuck kieran his first bowl of pearson’s stew after ‘making a social call’. john kicked kieran off his horse at the entrance of camp and javier watched as the latter dredged himself through the brush to what would become his usual resting place behind the rock by the horses. he looked miserable, dead on his feet, and javier knew by then he’d been weeks without a meal. he was a dirty, disloyal, unholy traitor of an o’driscoll, but something about his sunken eyes, the shake in his hand as he lit his first cigarette as a free man again- likely to quell off the hunger- it urged javier to act in a way that he’d never felt before. javier could kill a man in cold blood easier than he could stand to watch fear starve a man even after his hands are free to reach for the bowl. the study for learned helplessness in psychology will come years later, but javier understands himself now through watching kieran’s instinctual desire to survive be beat out of him by the gang javier dedicates his life to. with a healthy amount of spite to himself, he scoops a heaping amount of fresh stew into the cleanest bowl he can find, and sets out to add a fresh layer of flesh to kieran’s prominent bones.

• following this, cooking for kieran is one of javier’s favourite things to do when they get together. javier will cook for him traditional mexican dishes from home (as best he can. both with his limited skills and also with his limited accessibility to the proper ingredients. (probably for the best that he can’t get authentic chili peppers from home and has to use a less spicy chili native to this northern climate. kieran does okay with spice but it isn’t in his genetics to truly have a high tolerance.)) and not only will it be an unknown love language from javier, to feed kieran and make sure he is full, but it will also be a love language from kieran, to let javi share a piece of home with him.

• ^ also applies to modern au javieran ! javier loves cooking, and especially for kieran. they would cook together, but kieran struggles to cook with other people in the room, and javier gets so absorbed in it that he’d likely be running into kieran or otherwise being unhelpful in aiding in making sure the dish is being cooked correctly because he’s too Locked In to guide kieran LOL but they’re more happy to simply keep each other company, anyway. kieran on the counter/table/floor, watching javier sing and dance to the music he’s blasting from their speaker. cue dancing in the kitchen when the love songs come on (here’s a good one (rip javier escuella you would have loved dannylux)). the parallel play and quality time with these two is off the charts

• come mid/late clemens point, the way javieran make most of their money for the camp is by going on days-long fishing dates, laughing and laying close to one another in the grass under a tree on the riverbank in the shroud of darkness. they come back to camp flushed as all get out but with stacks of cash in their hands wadded up so thick no one dares to ask where it came from. kieran will get excited at even the smallest of fish, perking up and sharing/asking javier for tidbits on the species. they never miss a bite, either. one time one of the bells on their bobber rods rang once and they both broke out of a very hot and heavy make-out sesh so fast that javier tripped on kieran and nearly broke both of their wrists. they laughed so hard about it, javier was certain that by the time he arrived to his rod, the fish had already successfully ripped the bait off of his hook. he reeled in a boot, at the end of it all. he never lives it down.

• kieran is ambidextrous, and javier is fascinated by it. javier stumbled upon kieran writing on one rare occasion, and noticed immediately that he was writing with his left. “left handed, huh ?” kieran cocks his head at him in thought. javier wonders why on earth he would have to stop and think about a question like that. “uhh, not really ?” well, now javier is simply confused. “right, then ? is something wrong with your dominant hand ?” “um … no, that’s not it either …” and at this point, javier is demanding kieran explain what the hell he’s talking about, and why he’s pulling a prank on him. cue kieran explaining and javier making him do all kinds of silly “tests” like writing, shooting, playing guitar (as if kieran is going to any better with either when neither of them can do it right to begin with) because he finds it so cool.

• modern au kieran gets overstimulated incredibly easily, so he’s got a pair of noise canceling over-ear headphones that he often wears to dampen sensory input and ground himself when there’s a lot going on. when it’s cleaning day, generally no matter what he’s doing, he HAS to wear his headphones. javier is left to dodge him the same way he has to dodge the cats when they’re weaving in and out of between his feet. it also leaves him to dance to his own tunes when kieran suddenly swoops or sways or dips him to the music only he can hear- though just as often, javier will catch kieran dancing by himself and he will simply be unable not to join him, even though he can’t hear what it is he’s dancing to. as overwhelming as they can be, cleaning days for javieran somehow always end up feeling more like a date than anything.

• on a similar note, kieran also wears his headphones to bed, and listens to asmr/white noise to sleep. the pressure helps him feel safe, and the silence of a room makes him anxious. he also has a terrible bedhead and rbf in the morning. both of these things javier finds incredibly charming, and if he ever does wake up when/before kieran does (incredibly rare), this is his pov (right before he tries to kiss kieran’s face off and gets shoved away with a sleepy giggle that only bolsters his aggression);

nsfw under the cut !

and how could i resist a chance to finally talk about this ;3€ ?? i’ll try to keep them fluffy !

(context, i hc both of them as tguys usually (though im content with writing javier as amab too), with both of them being absolute, unabashed switches. they have little preferences anywhere in terms of bottoming/topping, though kieran has a preference for subbing, and javier has no qualms with domming more frequently.)

• as much raunchy, animalistic sex that javieran have, they have double as much slow, loving, tender sex. and most times between, they’re having raunchy, loving, animalistic sex.

• javi loves to turn kieran’s brain off, he loves more than anything to make kieran feel so overwhelmingly pleasured that he forgets everything that ever has, ever could, or ever will happen to him. nothing gets javier off quite like seeing the face of bliss kieran makes when all he can think about is javier’s mouth/hands/cock working overtime just to make him feel good.

• both of them i think are quite vocal when they’re able to be, and kieran tends to be vocal whether he’s supposed to be or not. both of them often dissolve into whimpers and “i love you”s and praise like “you feel/sound/taste so good” by the end. their love for each other has a carnal grasp on every aspect of their sex lives as well <3 so they’re always speaking so sweetly to each other, even if the way they growl it seems violent

• javier LOVES love bites. he loves to mark kieran up and he especially loves to bite and lick and suck on his neck, not only because of the primal aspect of his jugular being so close (as well as the warmth of his pulse thrumming against his mouth), but also because it arouses kieran to the point of making him shiver nearly every time. javier has permission to bite him hard, but it’s pretty rare that he ever does, and it’s only late into their relationship does javier feel like it will be more pleasure for him than it would just be pain. sometimes he can’t help it though, he’ll get so worked up that he just latches on and the way that kieran tightens around him is mind-numbing.

• unironically i think kieran is a GREAT soft dom, and that is something that javier generally had never experienced prior to getting with kieran. javi thinks it’s hot to be man-handled and roughed up, and kieran can do his very best (despite the constant guilt and fear) if javier is really feeling it, but where he really excels is soft domming. once the nerves melt off, he’s so gentle with javier that it makes the latter’s skin hot all over. constantly praising him, cooing at him, asking him nicely, rewarding him for good behavior, all the while touching him oh-so-gently, it all makes javier feel so awkward but so, so good. kieran makes him feel so loved and worshipped that the world in which he has anything to question simply just fades away, and all he has to think about is doing what meager tasks kieran asks of him.

• they find so much peace in each other’s bodies. in every rib and wrinkle and sunspot, these two will spend hours simply exploring and enjoying the body of the other in whatever the closest form of “privacy” they can manage to acquire. turns out, kieran has sunspots all over him. turns out, javier has a keloid scar on the back of his bicep. turns out, kieran has a mole on his scalp right where his part is (this is canon btw i saw it once when i was studying him in photo mode like a specimen in a petri dish), and javier has back dimples, and kieran’s ribs stutter and dance beautifully when he laughs, and the flex of javier’s thighs warps his skin like a marble statue. javier escuella and kieran duffy love like artists, and they spend hours just learning and looking and studying each other, like a painter with his muse, like a writer with his words, like the last things they want to see while they’re dying are all the hours they spent learning the beauty of the other.

i could honestly come up with more but it would never leave my drafts, so i hope u like these that i came up with as quick as i could :’) ! i hope you’re feeling better and have gotten some good rest !! thank you for the ask !!!!!

[bsotted]

ok well. unfortunate news: sometimes ur niche is so niche u've already niched the niche. this is exactly the same as the feeling of hitting the end of ur ship tag in ao3 🥲

*edit: sorry i accidentally named like every character ever in the tags so ppl are Seeing this post who dont have the benefit of so much as a single crumb of context. if i accidentally namedropped ur blorbo its bc of this post:

anyway. i was excited for recs bc i also enjoy this genre of fictional character. unfortunately as above the niche is niched, it turns out. at least for me, content enjoyer georg, who has apparently already seen or read everything anyone else has already seen or read except for a small handful of specific media properties that i do not wish to see or read for various personal reasons and also not literally everything ever... just the same things as everyone else has already seen and read... u get the idea. ok thnks 👍🏻

[nenoname]

yes i'm still salty that some people were super annoying when folks compared stan and bill-- despite the website being even more blunt about their similarities!!!!

[corpsentry]

recent stories i have read or watched or vored sexily

1. so yesterday i was on page 139 of gideon the ninth and today i finished it. i did nothing until i finished it. i physically could not stop. i mean i should have known it from the moment it had the most epic characters page of all the houses and each house had cool as balls names like Hope Of The Emperor and Wisdom Of The Emperor and Rose Unblossomed or however that one goes but holy mother of god…………. they did not lie this book went hard as fuck. i was reminded of something and i’m going to reblog it shortly so you can read it but i saw a tumblr post that was talking about dungeon meshi’s character designs versus genshin impact’s and another where an author was like ok but where’s the gross part?? where’s the pathetic in the characters??? and gideon the ninth does this so well. god, gideon and harrow are trying to beat each other into the ground for the better part of the book but then you get this insane 180 flip and they’re in a POOL and mein gotte when harrow said i am undone without you my eyes cried Just A Little. i forget, i think, sometimes, that people are most beautiful when they are wretched and clumsy and honest. i think this particularly because i’ve been on a hetero chinese language dramas and movies binge lately and i turned off the part of my brain that revels in messy honest art and let the part that wants to stare at bailu for 30 hours stare at bailu for 30 hours. but maybe it is time to stop watching things only to look at beautiful women (who are, admittedly, very fucking beautiful). maybe it is time to GO TO THE FUCKASS FARAWAY LIBRARY TOMORROW TO BORROW HARROW THE NINTH. what da hell. the world building in this novel is motherfucking exquisite. you have to work so goddamn hard to make a line like Emperor the Necromancer Divine God Salvation The Resurrection with a bunch of little semicolons in between work but it works, it works because it’s cool, it’s cool because it’s grimey and gross and funny, i would do astounding things for all of these people (except silas, who can get fucked). and gideon is such a spectacular narrator, to be introduced to this world through her eyes is an honor and a gift, and harrow….. HARROWWWWWWW AOUUUUUUUU YAUUUUUUUUUUUU i’m obsessed. it’s over. i am officially down horrendous

2. now i’m gonna talk to you guys about amidst a snowstorm of love 在暴雪时分. my mom keeps being like so are you done with the helsinki drama yet and i have to keep being like no because There Is No Drama but anyway ok i started it because wulei…….. and now i am Bereft and Despaired fr that they put wulei in this when man has so much more to him. listen up my guys. i have never seen or read or heard or played a story that has so little….. story. it is remarkably, devastatingly substanceless. it is like watching a 3 hour chill lofi playlist. every once in a while the dog in the animated background runs around the armchair. the fire crackles through the same 5 frames. otherwise— nothing. i’m honestly amazed that they managed to do this, this, this is Not what slice of life is. this is also not what straight romance is??? i am a longtime purveyor of the hetero romance arts and this is hetero romance sans all of the misunderstandings and miscommunications that generate teary breakdowns and mismanaged fights. there is literally no conflict which can be fine except there isn’t even, like, admiration for the small things in life or familial love or friendship which Does Not A Story Make. now i don’t say this lightly as i am a strong believer that if the plot only advances because the cast is too fucking stupid to talk to each other then it’s a shit plot but for the first time in my life i wish there Would be a petty misunderstanding so we could at least see a fraction of the characters’ personalities. now see the Premise is that the protagonist goes to finland to participate in a 9-ball competition and pulls the brooding grad student she meets there back into the world of billiards or whatever but the 9-ball is just a vehicle in the purest sense for the romance. she will be like i practice now and then go practice and then wulei shows up with coffee and that’s it, the 9-ball table was there so wulei could lean on it and look hot in 4 shots. i’m genuinely astounded. nothing fucking HAPPENS in this drama. literally i will sit through an entire episode and it’s just like, zhao lusi wants coffee…., there is coffee…., romantic moments (6-7) insert song (2-3) close up slow mo gazing (399999). seriously i would commit unspeakable crimes for wulei but even i cannot watch this drama straight without falling asleep. it is the emptiest thing i have ever seen and it is so spectacularly committed to this absolutely void of writing. also wulei’s character is dirt poor but he spends all his money on taking zhao jinmai to expensive ass fuck restaurants and then gets sick from overwork and no one TALKS about it. it’s not even a decent straight romance because there is no communication or anything remotely interesting happening in the relationship. it’s not a drama, mein gott, it’s a medley of cute heartwarming moments between two very beautiful and very talented actors who have been kidnapped and locked in a snowy nightmare where all they can do is smile at each other shyly and sometimes hold hands. crazy…………….. wasted potential for my babygirls………. (bereft)

3. watched episode 2 of oh no here comes trouble不良执念清除师 i cannot get over the fact that pu yiyong draws digital art. it’s just so lovely a detail. the first time they showed his drawing tablet and the tablet pen i was like WOAA…. HES JUST LIKE ME FR i mean he’s just like me fr he has a goofy little mullet and he talks back like it’s his 9-5 it’s brilliant. this is excellent representation for brooding angsty teens who also like to draw with clip studio paint. Possibly watching this at 2 am was a mistake as i am prone to nightmares about godless things but it’s such a fun drama and it handles tonal shifts with a clarity that i rarely see in tv….. also pu yiyong’s actor is just great. i mean god, he has eyebrows and they’re mad at you. good for him. slay

4. we’re on episode, i dunno, 23 of the double墨雨云间 now i think and it’s great but it’s true, especially after binging 80% of gideon the ninth in one day that much like how genshin impact’s character designs are designed to be attractive to as many people as possible, the double’s characters are meant to be perfect and attentive to the maximum number of people. the catharsis of seeing the protagonist triumph over the evil conspiring antagonist is only cathartic so many times, and i think im running up against the ceiling of that catharsis. we know fangfei’s brilliant and we know xiaoheng won’t let anything happen to her so it just becomes 5d chess between the morally black and white chess players, it becomes watching schemes unfold and collapse like origami boats, over and over again. they don’t sink because there isn’t any water. they’re beautiful but they can’t bear weight. and after spending too much time in these homes, in the chinese dramas hole or the kpop gorilla groups hole or the mainstream shounen hole i have to punch myself in the dick and be like ok now you are re entering the world as a person amongst other people, because it gives you tunnel vision! they’re all conventionally attractive queens with snatched waists and perfectly managed profiles, variety show personalities but you see i remembered that I Want Harrowhark Nonagesimus. i want the grit and the dirt and the morning sunlight all at once. what i mean is i will be borrowing harrow the ninth from the public library tomorrow if it means i have to take a train 2 hours out to fuckass nowhere to get it. what i mean is i am going back into the game and i am going 2 Win

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

i did miss the creation of fiction where i go "wow what if this happened next" like yeah make this guy(s) [gender neutral] more miserable yippee <3

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

[lanatusnebula]

I might try to publish some of my AU fics...? I don't know if anyone'll read them since I'm not a writer by any degree, and some of them lean so far out of character it might make people vomit.

Maybe.

But I do love talking about them. My current friends / friend groups either don't give a fuck about shipping or don't give a fuck about megaman. I have to really resort to talking to various AIs just to have an outlet. Please don't take that away from me.

[lambshackleglory]

started learning uke :3 its only been a week so dont judge me too hard but heres the beginning to brave as a noun. drop some suggestions of songs to learn !

[thoustve]

<- needs to stop starting new writing drabbles at the chance of not finishing them. lmao.

[microwavingfranky]

Where this goes, part 1.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (end)

Hrrrrmmmmm okkaaaay soooooo

this is a sketch comic i drew last year (November 2023) shortly after finishing Ennie's Lobby and starting a new full time job. I didn't really write a script for it and i finished it in 2 weeks... this is completely unedited and just how i made it a year ago (lol rip good luck)

when i tell you i have never responded to anything more passionately in my life that is the truth... idk i fell into a coma or something, it was crazy

there are some things about this that I think are quite nice, which is why I'm sharing it!!! But also please note that it also deserves a good helping of "HE WOULD NOT F***ING SAY THAT" and i understand that 😂 i hope you are able to enjoy it anyway, i said what i said

I'll go through and link all the parts appropriately and work on the alt text once they're uploaded, please be nice to me :0 Read from left to right!

UPDATE: Alt text has been added! Sorry for the bad handwriting. Also added some description for the silent parts for potential text/audio only folks

[izzy-b-hands]

So much of typing in particular as I get older is just shouting at myself 'USE THE FONT EVEN IF IT'S NOT YOUR FAVE. SET THE SIZE TO 12 OR MORE EVEN IF YOU THINK IT LOOKS CRAP/MAKES THE DRAFT SEEM TOO LENGTHY. YOUR EYES CAN'T DO IT LIKE THEY COULD BEFORE; WHY ARE YOU INTENTIONALLY MAKING THIS HARDER FOR YOURSELF?'

and I don't even have a good answer for that lmao

[legendaryvermin]

You framing the opinion that opinion "art is worthy because of skill and effort" as ableist seems to be carrying some unexamined bias of its own. Disabled people can and do expend effort and develop skill, and the specifics of that skill and effort are going to look different depending on the person and their disability. Believing that art is valuable because of human effort and believing that disabled people make real art, in other words, are not mutually exclusive beliefs. You seem to have mistakenly conflated them.

See, part of being an ally to disabled folks- and like, let's be real, allyship in general- is that it's the job of people who want to be allies to listen to what people are actually asking for, and then to show up to make sure that they get what they asked for. All too often, marginalized groups are given solutions to their problems by well meaning members of the majority that don't actually meet their needs. It's all well and good to build a ramp that leads into city hall, but if the chambers at city hall are on the second floor and there's no elevator, we haven't really made that building accessible, have we?

My feed isn't yours, but: every time *I've* seen discourse about text-to-art and disability, what I see in the discussions are a ton of disabled folks saying "hey, none of us asked for text-to-art, and we don't like it". I see a lot of is disabled artists talking about what tools or techniques they themselves (or other folks with similar disabilities) use to make art, none of which are text-to-art. Even if someone with a disability out there is clamoring for this as the solution they need, I *still* see way more disabled people saying something else that I think is way more important to listen to:

"Please stop saying bring up people with disabilities as the use case for this technology."

So yeah, maybe some dipshits are being ableist and posting inspoporn. Chiding assholes who speak over disabled artists by defending text-to-art as a necessity for disabled artists? Kinda just seems like more speaking over disabled artists from where I'm standing.

i dont think its necessarily ableist to hate AI art, but if you then qualify that by arguing that art derives its meaning from the effort and skill that went into it then you're being kinda ableist