#this fic has been such a journey

[burstingsunrise]

detours and déjà vu

pairing: cake rating: explicit words: 34,696 cw: alcohol/drinking, explicit sexual content

“Yeah, you can come along,” Calum says, smiling while he rocks the porch swing with his toes. “I could use a co-pilot.” After all the time he spent reminiscing on his bedroom floor, it feels like in a strange way he misses Luke. Or actually, it’s not really Luke he misses, it’s being young and carefree, just happy, with no caveats. But still, Calum craves the reconnection, curious to see if the Luke that’s next to him now can still make him feel even a taste of what seven-year-old summer Calum felt.

happy birthday meg @kaleidoscopeminds 💜

[lunarharp]

pretty & cute witch men

[red-flagging]

💛 seb/lewis :-)

(kiss fic prompts!)

a little epilogue to rabbits are chasing :)

Lewis's flight lands at 8:02PM, which means that by 7:31PM, Seb is parked outside the airport arrivals door, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and scanning the sky for approaching planes.

It's quite silly, getting here so early, but it's not as if there's much left to do at home. There's roast vegetables waiting in the oven, the cauliflower steaks that he started marinating earlier this morning chilling in the fridge. Mina and Ellie are safely ensconced in their duck coop with the heater turned on for the night. The sheets on the guest bed are freshly washed.

The car parked behind him starts up. Its headlights illuminate Seb's cabin. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of himself, harried and too-bright, in the rearview mirror. He scrubs his hands down his face. Christ. Get it together, Sebastian. He is a full 39 years old. Far too old to be getting the same jitters that he did the first time he invited a girl over at age 17, agonizing about what album to have playing when they came back to his room. Lewis is far too old for Seb to be doing all this. Lewis might not even be gay.

His phone buzzes. Seb nearly jumps out of his seat.

Lewis

just landed

getting my luggage now

hows it so freaking cold here

The inside of the car is already fogging up. When he'd asked Lewis to send dates he could come visit and Lewis had said just so you know the next few months are kind of crazy for me, Seb had expected late fall, maybe the holidays. Not the middle of slush season, when all the roads up the mountain have a 50/50 chance of being so muddy that they're undriveable.

Sebastian

I'm outside, in the blue Infiniti :)

He glances back up at himself in the mirror. The scab from where a wood chip caught the corner of his eyebrow while he was sanding the new planter box is almost healed over. His hair looks as good as it's ever going to. If Lewis asks whether he's been using conditioner, he's fucked.

It shouldn't feel like this. Seb beat Lewis to Senna's record, and Lewis still laughed at all his jokes the next season. Lewis watched Seb DNF twice in five races and still said in the media pen that he was waiting for the day Seb would be back up on the podium with him. When they inevitably auction off Lewis's Le Mans racesuit, it'll have to be with Seb's snot all over the front of it, because Lewis let Seb sob all over him and then laughed as he wiped sweat off of Seb's cheek with the sleeve. After all that – the fact that he's about to be in Seb's house for the next week shouldn't make Seb feel like he's standing in front of Lewis naked, without even the promise of a fast car or a good competition to distract Lewis from looking right at him.

His phone buzzes again.

Lewis

outside i think

Seb peers through the windscreen. Lewis – or rather, the blurry figure lugging a giant suitcase behind him that he assumes is Lewis – waves at him from the sidewalk. Seb flashes his lights at him twice.

The back door opens and Lewis's head, along with a burst of cold night air, pops in. "Hey," he says, a little breathlessly. "I don't think this is going to fit in the back."

It does, eventually, but not without a fight that involves Seb having to climb into the trunk alongside Lewis's suitcase and physically wrestle it into place while Lewis shoves from behind. They're both out of breath by the time they finally climb back in the front and slam the doors shut.

"You know, there are beds at the farm," Seb points out. "You didn't have to pack your own."

Lewis shakes his head, tugging off his gloves. His coat collar is turned up around his neck. He's wearing an an ear warmer headband, held in place by two butterfly pins. Every other bit of uncovered skin is pink, even with the heat in the car up at full blast. Lewis shoves his fingers in front of the vents and sighs with relief, closing his eyes. "Ugh, thank God," he says. He sounds exhausted. "Listen, you're lucky I fit everything into one." It sounds far less like a joke than Seb would hope. The fact that the fondness in Seb's chest still manages to outweigh the exasperation is probably a sign that Seb's beyond salvation.

"Next time I'll bring a trailer so you can fit your bathtub and toilet, too," he says, reaching for the keys. The engine purrs to life as he flicks the lights back on, then leans forward to scrub the worst of the fog off the windscreen. The thermometer on the dash says it's still 3 degrees outside. They might still be able to make it back before the slush freezes over. "Okay," he says, sitting back down and twisting around to reach for his seatbelt. "Ready to go?"

Lewis doesn't say anything. When Seb looks over, he's staring out the front window, playing with one of his rings.

"Lewis?" Seb asks.

Lewis's head jerks around. "Hm?" he says. "Oh. Yeah." He doesn't move to put on his seatbelt.

Seb frowns. Kills the engine so he can properly turn in his seat. "Lewis," he says. "Is everything –"

Lewis leans across the console and kisses him.

It's barely half a second. Seb still hasn't moved by the time Lewis sits back down on his side of the car.

"Uh," Lewis says, after a second. He clears his throat. "Sorry. I just – Shit. Sorry. The whole way over, all I could think about was – I had to get it over with before I chickened out."

He's fiddling with his rings again, but his eyes stay fixed on Seb's. His jaw is set. He still looks half-ready to bolt through the door behind him, out into the night.

"Well, you don't have to make it sound like taking your medicine, Christ," Seb says hoarsely, and drags Lewis back across the console to kiss him properly.

Lewis's lips are still cold. When Seb opens his mouth, Lewis sighs, pressing in closer with a soft sound that makes Seb want to go twenty years back in time and kick himself for not figuring out how to make Lewis make that noise sooner. His hands settle on Seb's wrists, holding him in place. Seb slides his own hands up, cradling the back of Lewis's head, to return the favor.

When he finally pulls away just far enough to catch his breath, Lewis follows him, close enough that their noses bump. His eyes are wide. This close up, Seb can see the dark circles under them more clearly.

He closes his eyes. Lewis is still there when he opens them.

"How long have you been awake?" he asks.

Lewis blinks. "What," he says. "Are you talking about."

"Sleep deprivation," Seb says. His heart is pounding hard enough that he feels it in his throat. "People start to get delirious when they're tired enough –"

"I was awake for 24 hours and I didn't kiss you at the end," Lewis interrupts, his eyes sharp and bright. "I'm not making the same mistake twice."

Seb opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He tries again. Still nothing.

"Fuck," he says, closing his eyes. "Okay. Okay." He drags himself back upright and reaches for the keys. "We can – tomorrow. But we should – you need to shower. And sleep." Lewis's hand settles on his leg. Seb rests his own on top of it; after a second, he squeezes Lewis's fingers gently. Lewis flips his hand over and laces their fingers together.

"Yeah," Lewis says. His thumb traces over Seb's knuckles. "That – tomorrow sounds good."

The slush crackles under the tires when Seb starts to move. Ahead of them, the headlights carve a path through the darkness. Lewis's hand is a solid, steady weight against his leg. "Okay," Seb says, to himself, to both of them, to no one. Lewis hums softly from his side of the car. He squeezes Seb's knee gently.

Seb closes his eyes for a second. "Okay," he says quietly. "Yeah. Let's go home."

[watchyourbuck]

Dear Maddie,

Buddie | MCD | Mature | 12,5k words | Completed

"So, I will. I’m gonna tell you our story. I will be as delicate as I can because he never deserved anything but gentleness. I only hope I was able to love him the way the universe intended me to love him. I can’t fathom thinking that loving him from this far will ever amount to what I could’ve done had we had our whole lives. I was too late." Or: After Buck dies, Eddie writes ten heartfelt letters to Maddie, telling her the story of how they fell in love, so she can feel closer to her brother once again.

Read on ao3

tagging some of my loves! @malewifediaz @eddiescowboy @firemedicdiaz @daffi-990 @evanbegins @honestlydarkprincess @honestlyeddie @smilingbuckley @hoodie-buck @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @loserdiaz @hippolotamus @fortheloveofbuddie @eddie---diaz @mattsire @puppyboybuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazsdimples @bucksbackwardcap @bucksbirthmark @housewifebuck @try-set-me-on-fire @cal-daisies-and-briars @eowon @devirnis @butraura @jesuisici33 @monsterrae1 @buckleyobsessed @exhuastedpigeon @nmcggg @your-catfish-friend @wildlife4life @lover-of-mine @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 & @giddyupbuck

pls don’t feel obligated to read this if it’s too much or not your cup of tea!!💗

[greenapricot]

Title: The Names of All the Wind - Chapter 9 Author: greenapricot Fandom: Lewis Characters: Robbie Lewis, James Hathaway, Laura Hobson Pairing: James Hathaway/Robbie Lewis Rating: Teen Word count: 2209 Chapter 9 of 9 (fic now complete!) Warnings: None

“I sort of—” Robbie takes a sip of his pint, glances at Laura, then at the ducks swimming against the current. He’s unsure how to explain James to himself, let alone to Laura; how they fit without even trying, how they had been literally drawn to each other, how there is more between them than their unintentionally formed mystic connection. He’s smiling again just thinking about it, smiling still. Simple is probably best. “I met someone while I was there.” His face goes hot as the words leave his mouth.

“Did you now?” Laura raises an eyebrow salaciously, grinning at him over the rim of her glass as she sips her gin and tonic. She is having far too much fun with this, but Robbie can’t even muster the scowl her tone deserves. His smile keeps breaking through.

“Not like that.”

“No shame in a little holiday romance.”

He shakes his head. “No, I mean— It’s more than a holiday romance.”

“Is it now?” Her grin widens.

The Names of All the Wind - Chapter 9 on Ao3

[ian-galagher]

darkness comes before the dawn.

written by Willow @ian-galagher and Sky @transmurderbug for @gallavich-fic-club's summer camp event, with art by Nosho @creepkinginc and betaed by Julia @blue-disco-lights

"Hey, Mickey? I was thinking of baking a pie. Would you like some?"   It startles him when the raven lets out a burst of shouts. "Cah, cah, cah!"   "I take that as a yes," Ian says, grinning. "Blueberry?"   "Cah! Cah! Cah!"   Mickey shuts his eyes, his chest squeezing tight. To his ears, it sounds an awful lot like the raven is talking to him, rather than Ian, telling him to "Speak! Speak! Speak!"

this fic is now COMPLETE! 🥳

total worth count: 20k

🌾read here on ao3 or start from the beginning here!

[cringengl]

My gallavich 5+1 outsider pov fic is finally posted on my ao3 everybody cheer wooooo!! You can now check it out here!!

the many assumptions made about mickey milkovich's wife

4.6k, one-shot, 5+1 things, post s11, mechanic!mickey, outsider pov

[saetoru]

i think taking a break from writing smut for like almost a year has been rly refreshing bc i think it made me stop questioning if my writing is interesting without sex and just write it how i want. and then tbh a part of me has realized i like writing without the sex half the time. it’s nice. it’s fun to explore intimacy in as many non sexual ways as you can

[randomingoftherandomness]

Fic: I Love You With Purpose

Pairing: Gong Shangjue x Gong Yuanzhi

A/N: This one is for @dangermousie :)

--

Shangjue gently cards his fingers through Yuanzhi's undone hair. The tips of his fingernails scratch against his scalp, moving from root to tip in comfortable rhythmic motions. It's just them here in the quiet of their room, sitting on their bed. Just them in their nightclothes, unwinding from the day.

Shangjue sinks himself into the feeling of running his fingers through Yuanzhi's hair, quietly absorbed in the calming task of massaging this year's finest batch of camelia hair oil into every strand. It's getting longer now. There are many styles of braids that he picked up when he was out in the martial world. He can't wait to try them all out on his didi's hair.

"Didi, tomorrow we should go for a ride. There's a beautiful meadow I'd like to bring you to."

"Mm... That sounds nice. Should we ask the kitchen to prepare some food for the journey?" Yuanzhi asks, eyes closed serenely, lips curled In a smile. After a beat, he chuckles. "This really sounds like you're courting me."

Shangjue stills. Taking his didi by the waist, he turns him around until they are face to face. Gesturing at the space between them, he points at the clutter on the table next to his own neatly arranged study. Then he waves his hand at the bottles of hair oil he had spent not a small amount of money to buy.

Yuanzhi laughs. "Point taken."

Shangjue barely resists the undignified urge to roll his eyes as Yuanzhi snuggles back into his embrace. Reaching up to pat his head, he hides his smile in a kiss on the shell of Yuanzhi's ear.

Yuanzhi splays his hands up, sliding their palms together. Shangjue holds on to him, allowing himself the indulgence of having his didi so close and unbridled.

But in just a breath, with a slow whisper that is barely any louder than the beat of a mosquito's wing, shatters that peace.

"Do you ever wish we never met?"

Shangjue blinks and calms himself. "What's brought this on?"

"Mm... Just a question."

That's a clear deflection if he has ever heard one. Tucking his hair behind his ear, he gently comments. "Yuanzhi didi never asks a question idly. Tell your gege. Where's this coming from? Has someone made you upset?"

Yuanzhi sighs, merely shaking his head. "It's nothing." A pause. "It's everything."

Shangjue patiently waits him out, holding him tightly. "I've been wondering lately if we shouldn't have met after all. How my life would have been if I had never met you, how different of a person I would be. I wonder if it would have been better if you..."

"You?"

"If you never fell in love with me. Then perhaps you could have had a normal life. A wife. A child to carry on your name. Maybe I would be just a cousin you saw occasionally. Someone who did not make a deep impression on you."

Yuanzhi's gaze flash with the flickering of the candlelight, gazing into the distance. Softly, as if he isn't expecting the words to even exist in his voice, he murmurs. "Maybe if I didn't exist, you still could..."

Shangjue tightens his embrace. Heart racing at the thought of his world not having his didi in it, mind buzzing with uncharacteristic panic at the thought that he would not have Yuanzhi by his side.

"Gong Yuanzhi, I want you to listen to me, and listen well." He crosses his arms around his didi's chest, pressing every ounce of sincerity and fragility into his words. "I didn't fall in love with you. Falling implies that how I feel for you is an accident."

"I love you and have loved you on purpose. Consciously, willingly, and with deliberate thought. Every shade of my love, every moment I have loved you has been a choice. And I choose you."

The warm droplets on the back of his hands are carefully ignored. Shangjue tilts Yuanzhi and folds him closer until he is safely tucked against his shoulder, dampening the fabric there. Leaning in, he softly hides his smile to the side of his hair, breathing in deep the warm scent of camelia and musk.

Yuanzhi's demons aren't unfamiliar to him and he knows this won't be the last time he has to keep them at bay. Born of his fault, it's his solemn duty to remind Yuanzhi, to anchor him, to soothe him that this is real -- the life that they've built together is as real and as true as the air in their lungs.

"Let me say one thing more." Shangjue lifts Yuanzhi's face by the cheek. Cooing a little at the red-rimmed eyes, he lovingly wipes away the tears, smoothing away the frown between his brows. "Your place by my side on purpose and with purpose. No one can take that away from you. No one can replace you. In this life, Yuanzhi didi is my Yuanzhi didi. Understand?"

"Mn."

Yuanzhi gives him a tremulous, wet smile, pulling away to wipe away the few stray tears that trickle down his face. "You know, whoever said that Gong Ziyu was the most romantic man of our generation has obviously never heard you speak. You'd give the best poets a run for their money, Ge."

Shangjue barks a laugh at that. Shuffling over, he lays his hand over Yuanzhi's hip, drawing him in for a kiss. And then two, and three.

"It's good that no one knows. I'm a romantic only for my didi, after all."

Yuanzhi holds in the cough long enough before his shoulder starts to shake and he laughs out loud around his wheezing gasps.

"Please, gege, never let anyone but me hear you say things like these. The world is not ready for your type of romance."

Shangjue chuckles, reeling him back in. Snuffing out the candlelight, he lies them both down -- Yuanzhi on the inside of the bed, him on the outside. They talk for a bit more, speaking about the food they'd like to have on their little sojourn tomorrow.

They'll need to wake up early so that Shangjue can try this intricate braid work that he learnt from some merchants from the far West. When Yuanzhi's breathing begins to even out, Shangjue takes a moment just as sleep is beginning to take him, and thinks adoringly.

Yes, from the moment I met you, I have loved you with purpose.

[mihrsuri]

Thinking about the Tudors OT3 kids marriages

It’s actually very much a thing that while they do arrange marriages Anne, Henry and Thomas very much give their children a choice within that/want them to be able to at least be able to be happy with their spouse, if not in love. Partly this can happen because England is in the position of being courted for alliances in this verse, partly because they have nine children (including Mary in this) - including five boys.

Tommy and Mihrimah came about because essentially, I read an account that Francis I had proposed an Ottoman match at one point and I thought that in a world in which Mihrimah is (a) actually the youngest of her family (b) England is the one being courted for alliances and (c) Ottoman influence in Europe it would make sense for Henry to look somewhere different for a bride for his oldest son. Tommy might actually have been betrothed to Mary Queen of Scots if she’d been born earlier/something else fell out (I have to figure out MQOS)

I saw a post by @theladyelizabeth about ‘how Elizabeth could have been married to Robert if her father had lived longer’ that was great and she mentioned maybe if Henry and Anne had had multiple children and I think that’s what does it - Elizabeth does have betrothal offers (in this case she’s always been considered legitimate - I have to figure out the offers and how they fall through but I think possibly France/Spain/Denmark/Portugal?) and and her journey re marrying at all/marrying Robert is a whole other post.

George was betrothed to the fictional second daughter of Marguerite of Navarre (Madeleine) pretty early on - partly because of Anne’s love of France and also her friendship/admiration for Marguerite.

Liam’s entire betrothal adventure is a whole other post as well.

Margaret was betrothed to the Crown Prince of Denmark pretty early - it turned out they fell in love/liked each other but I think maybe also there was a consideration of an Italian match?

Owen too was betrothed pretty early to Infanta Sofia (who is a fictional granddaughter of Queen Juana I of Spain)

Edmund being betrothed to a Persian noblewoman was another ‘oooh what if’ because of the increased ties to the Ottoman world by the time he and his sister were born.

There were actually several/many offers for Pippa pre [redacted] (the story of how an ambassador nearly died for what he said about her is also a whole other post).

[astrhae]

nebula 231080 | Chapter 1: 11k words, angst with a happy ending, temporary amnesia

All his infinite words and dialects stuck beneath his ribcage, apologies useless and prayers unheard, and all Aziraphale could say, short and far from enough, was, “Perfect.” Crowley grinned back. Aziraphale looked away. It wasn’t fair of him. He held up the tire iron, the engine crank, and braced it against the center of the canvas. “Ready?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley tilted his head. “You still haven’t told me your name.” --------------- Or, in the aftermath of the Antichrist debacle, instead of Hellfire, Heaven decides to erase Aziraphale from the Book of Life. Things don’t go as planned. Featuring the moon landing, a masquerade ball, London’s questionable Angel Station, a carriage ride in Venice, and Aziraphale using the Bentley’s tire iron. (In which Season 2 is a time loop, and Aziraphale gives away his halo.)

Written for the @ineffableidiotsbigbang and with stunning art by the amazing @self-indulgentwriter

[pokimoko]

On Waxen Wings We Soar, In Spite of Inevitable Ends - A Baldur's Gate Fic

Written by pokimoko

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: ~15.5K

Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Astarion & Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Astarion/Karlach (Baldur's Gate), (it's fairly ambigious; is it romantic? queerplatonic? platonic? yes), (the love and devotion is there regardless)

Characters: Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Astarion (Baldur's Gate)

Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Game: Baldur's Gate 3, Spoilers for Act 3 (Baldur's Gate 3), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, (in which a certain scene on a certain dock doesn't happen right at that very moment), POV Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Astarion as Player Character (Baldur's Gate), Vampire Spawn Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Astarion & Karlach Friendship (Baldur's Gate), Ambiguous Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, Non-Sexual Intimacy, No Smut, Location: Faerûn (Dungeons & Dragons), Dungeons & Dragons Game Mechanics, Road Trips, (minus the car), Canon-Typical Bag Packing Physics, (how are they fitting all that food and a whole tent into one bag? don't ask me), Polymorph Spell (Dungeons & Dragons), Animal Transformation, Corvid Token (Baldur's Gate), Birds, oh? my wisdom check engine light is on? well i'm sure it's nothing to worry about, (and yes i know that joke doesn't actually work in terms of d&d mechanics. shhh), Quest: Our Fiery Friend | Karlach's Companion Quest (Baldur's Gate), Karlach Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate), Astarion Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Humor, Karlach-centric (Baldur's Gate), Astarion-centric (Baldur's Gate), Protective Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Protective Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Karlach Has Chronic Pain (Baldur's Gate), Dying Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Character Study

Summary: With her engine breaking down, and little time left to live before she burns up completely, Karlach takes one last journey across Faerûn. And thanks to a little bit of magic, it's a journey she won't have to take alone.

[xadoheandterra]

I absolutely love the amount of fic that exists that just...explores Alastor's sexuality in Hazbin. That explores what being asexual means, or what being aromantic means. It's been an absolute delight to find fic that outright embraces a character and the nuances that could come from it.

It has also actually educated me a lot about the asexuality spectrum, seeing so many authors outright identify themselves and say how they are exploring their own identity through fic.

I don't say this much, because it has taken me years to reach the level of understanding of where I am, but discovering who you are as a person, your likes, dislikes, and desires is a constant journey. You don't reach a conclusion and just...stop. Learning about yourself. Growing as a person.

When I was younger I didn't really understand what sex and romance were. I knew I felt something for my best friend, and at the time I had thought that made me bisexual. I knew I felt something for my first boyfriend, but I couldn't put a name to it. Love is a weird and confusing mess of emotions and impulses and desires that doesn't translate one to one to every person. I knew I loved these people, but I didn't know myself what that meant.

I knew I enjoyed kissing my boyfriend, but the minute he got a hard on I backed the fuck off. I knew I enjoyed going out to eat and watching movies and going on walks with him, but I found those same activities just as enjoyable without the tie of being in a relationship with the person and wasn't it supposed to mean something different if you were dating the person? It confused me.

We mutually broke up because both of us felt the relationship wasn't leading anywhere. For me it was the fact that I didn't understand why, as much as I loved the guy, there wasn't that something different that I was under the impression to expect. So I kept on, moved on, found a new person that was funny and amusing and I liked. When that person suggested sex, I decided to say fuck it and give it a go.

I went on from a boyfriend to a girlfriend to a friend with benefits to being taken to shibari parties to being taken to a BDSM dungeon for a demonstration to having a birthday sex party thrown for me when I was 25.

By this point I had determined two things about myself: I was not cisgender, and I was definitely not straight. I had taken to thinking I was only just coming to terms with being transgender at 25, and I was firmly of the opinion that I was panromantic and pansexual.

I'm not. I thought I was. It was the easiest way for me to parse the feelings and emotions and I thought I found people attractive in the "I would sleep with you and enjoy it" way but, well. I was 25, my friends threw a sex party for me. We had drinks, they were definitely more drunk than me. We had fun.

They had fun. I ended up watching from the sidelines after the first round, and had a...realization.

For all that I had been through to that point--the people I had been with to that point--I didn't exactly enjoy sex. But that's not quite right either because I did I just. Didn't need it? Want it? I'm still not sure how to phrase this. But it wasn't something that was--there wasn't that spark. I had fun, but I would also find myself adrift in the act sometimes. If there was pain? Oh, that would bring me back. I knew firmly by this point I was definitely a bit of a masochist but, even then, it wasn't the same. It was fun but it wasn't pleasurable. I could physically respond but I wasn't fully there.

I thought maybe it's because my body wasn't right. Maybe I would enjoy this more if I had the parts I felt like I needed. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Eight years later with my current partner, sex still isn't necessary. I'm fine with not having sex and just cuddling. I find that if my partner wants sex, I'll be down, but it's not something I tend to initiate. It's something he starts first, usually. I have had in the four years of us being together maybe...five times were I've ever initiated such acts? Five times where I wanted?

He's the first person that's actually been a thing with. It's what sort of struck the hammer, I think, that made me connect that realization from when I was 25 to not being a transgender thing, but an asexual thing.

And then Hazbin happened and there's plenty of wonderful fanfic exploring asexuality and aromanticism and I had the second realization since I started this journey when I was fourteen and found that I very much liked my best friend in a platonic-but-not-platonic way. I realized that for all my experience and dating, for all the romantic things I've been through or done, they're not...they don't spark that thing I've been led to believe happens. Every romantic gesture I can see happen with a best friend or an acquaintance and I would enjoy it in the exact same way. There's no difference between if I love the person as a partner or if I love the person as a friend.

The emotions about the person are different, sure, but the things we do are the same things I would do with a friend. They evoke the same emotions about the events as if it were a friend. I don't enjoy dating I enjoy hanging out with people, whether the emotions for the person are friend shaped or partner shaped.

So I've begun to realize I might be just a little aromantic too. Which would explain a lot of the troubles I had dating. A lot. Like shit emotions are confusing on a good day, ok?

So yeah. I am loving the ability to explore asexuality and aromanticism in fic because fuck me it is helping me come to terms with a lot of shit I thought I understood.

End all be all sexuality and romance is a continuous journey and sometimes it takes you 20+ years to reach that huh moment.

[orcelito]

FANTASTIC NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i finished & posted the ITNL 14 re-edits, WHICH MEANS!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm officially done with my re-edits project!!!!!!!!!! :D!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ive been thinking a lot today about my plans for ITNL 15, AND i have tomorrow off, so if all goes well i'll be able to start writing again. TOMORROW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and if the chapter grips me like i expect it will then... hehehehehe

could be an update in as little as a few days, depending. i'll keep u guys updated

[allylikethecat]

January OTP Prompts

Another one that was really hard for me to get out 🤦🏻‍♀️ I need to start writing these earlier in the day and not when I'm about to go to bed and have mentally checked out for the day already. BUT we did it! Got it written! Thank you so much to everyone who has been following along on this little adventure with me! It's been a struggle, and I know that my prompt fills aren't always my best work, but here we are, day 13 and I haven't missed one yet! 🎉

Warnings: descriptions of vomiting and implied drug use / withdrawal

13. Secret

Matty tucked his legs up to his chest, trying to make himself seem smaller, having convinced himself that if he took up less space, there would be less space inside him for the hurt to fester. There would be less space for the secrets that were eating him alive to grow as he choked on his organs and spat blood in the snow. He tried to focus on breathing through his nose as nausea churned in his belly and salvia filled his mouth. He clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, his nails biting into his palm as he mentally willed himself not to get sick. 

He could hear George in the front lounge, the click clack of his keyboard like nails being hammered into Matty’s skull even over the hum of the bus speeding down the interstate. He pressed his fingers to his lips, his breath shallow. He was going to be sick. He resented George, why couldn’t he be sleeping like the rest of the guys, breathing quietly in his bunk. George was going to see him as he stumbled out of his bunk and into the bathroom. George was going to hear him wrench as he coughed up bile. His stomach clenched and he was scrambling, tripping over himself on unsteady legs, his body aching, his joints protesting as he scurried from the bunk to the bathroom. As predicted, George looked up at the commotion. 

“Matty?” George asked with a frown as Matty blew past him, shoving his way into the cramped bathroom, dropping heavily onto his knees just in time to dry heave. 

“Matty are you alright?” George asked, standing up from the couch he was working on. There wasn’t enough space for both of them in the bathroom, so he hovered awkwardly in the doorway, watching Matty heave, his back shaking as he vomited. 

“Go away,” he rasped, wiping his mouth with a piece of toilet paper before resting his cheek on the toilet seat, his neck felt too weak to continue supporting his pounding head. He didn’t want George to see him like this. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. It was easier if he kept it a secret, his own secret struggle. 

“Are you ill?” George asked, reaching a hand out like he wanted to touch Matty, like he wanted to fix him. Like he was capable of fixing him. If Matty didn’t feel like his skin was crawling, like his body was trying to turn itself inside out, he would have laughed. George couldn’t fix him, he didn’t even know the extent of how fucked up he was. 

“I said go away!” Matty snapped, anger flaring in his chest, burning bright as it mingled with self pity. He squeezed his eyes shut, surprising himself when he realized he was crying. George needed to leave. They needed to get to the next venue, to the hotel, to a rest stop, to anywhere where Matty could get at his bag stored under the bus. The crook of his elbow burned as he ached for his secret. 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

[starlooove]

The way this has literally applied to every member of the batfam at some point and still does for most of them el oh el