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#love u bea
sommerregenjuniluft · 5 months
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Early grey tea and Rose Hip Tea
hi sweet cheeks<3 *bonks u*
The inevitable Zombie Apocalypse is upon us! What’s your plan of action?
take all the knives and scissors in my flat. call together all my friends. raid the next grocery store for more (bigger) knives and tinned food and stuff. (if possible take a trip to the next hardware store and get an axe/something equally handy and weapon-y). raid a Jack Wolfskin for some good quality, long distance walking shoes. get out of the city and somewhere where it’s less populated. call elio and tell him he’s my fav little meow meow and always will be. text all my tumblr mutuals that i’m casually in love with/would fuck. try to survive. Or alternatively: curl up in fetal position and die.
Describe your first kiss
my very first little peck i got when i was 6 years old and it was before taekwondo practice behind a little curtain next to trash at the door to a parking garage lol. my first real kiss i dont think i remember? but it might have been at my school bus stop when i was 12 with my first boyfriend. it must have been october/november, very chilly and it made me all warm and fuzzy heh
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wingedsilva · 1 year
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I give you... spidey ava and her well-dressed overprotective girlfriend roommate!
bonus:
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possibilistfanfiction · 5 months
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anything surgeons au, especially butch!bea omg
[an accidental 2.7k words of baby tai for the culture]
//
you don’t ask for beatrice to consult on the case just because the baby really does look like her in a tangible way: brown eyes that shine in the sun; gold skin; soft dark hair; a happy smile. tai — an orphan, which you also don’t prioritize when you ask her, but whatever — is small for her three months and quite sick, a bad valve in her tiny heart doing more damage than good. 
it’s a difficult surgery, complicated and intricate and, even though you’re the best in your field, a hardcore rockstar, you’re not a cardio surgeon. you ask beatrice to consult on the case because, even if you’d never admit it aloud in front of her, she is the best in the world.
‘dr. villaumbrosia,’ beatrice says, meeting you outside the picu. she’s not operating today, you’re fairly certain, or at least hasn’t yet, based on her neat navy slacks and oatmeal-colored sweater under her white coat, chelsea boots certainly not what she would wear in the OR, her buzzed hair not hidden under one of her surgical caps, her wedding band still on her finger rather than tucked away, pinned to the inside of her scrubs. you’ve known her for years and years, have watched her fail and succeed and succeed and succeed, have watched her fall in love and get married, have watched her build a home, a life — which includes you, in all the ways that matter, in the ways you will very rarely thank each other for and feel anyway. 
but still, ‘dr. choi,’ you say, ‘thanks for coming.’
she nods. ‘it sounded like an interesting case from your summary.’ she takes the ipad you offer her and looks at the scans of tai’s heart, then her vitals, then the scans again, a little closer and with something like wonder filling her eyes, just at the corners but enough for you to feel a spark of hope in your chest. she looks up at you. ‘we can do this, i think.’
‘yeah?’
‘it’ll be —‘ she pauses, nods to reassure both of you, sets her shoulders, and you know that’s it — ‘it’ll be difficult, but it’s not impossible.’
‘agreed.’
‘can i meet her, then? the patient? i’d like to get an idea of how small this heart actually is.’ 
‘of course.’ you open the door and it’s just like any other consult; beatrice is always brave enough to partner up on any peds cases, even the most heartbreaking, the most hopeless. 
tai smiles at beatrice, who is always good with children the same way you are: you talk to them like human beings, and you listen, and you take things seriously — their pain and their fear and their recovery. tai is too little to tell you anything, but beatrice still leans toward her gently and smiles at her babbling, runs a gentle hand over her soft hair, makes sure to warm the head of her stethoscope up on her thigh before pressing it to tai’s chest. 
there’s no way for you to realize it at the time, but you will swear for years that you knew, even before beatrice and certainly before ava, that tai was special; beatrice closes her eyes and listens to tai’s failing heart carefully. ‘i’ll need an updated echo,’ she tells you and your intern, standing uselessly behind you. ‘and then, if you’re free afterward, dr. villambrosia, let’s meet in the skills lab? i’d like to run through the procedure.’
‘that works for me.’
she nods once, seriously. ‘no parents?’
you shake your head. ‘she’s here through my org, from chengdu.’
beatrice considers this briefly but soldiers on, like she and ava haven’t had quiet, sad fights about children and adoption and a family and a home. ‘if you feel comfortable, i can hand off my follow-ups this afternoon to dr. amunet and we can get this taken care of. it’ll be a long recovery, so i’d rather it not degrade any further if we wait.’
‘as long as the run-through feels good,’ you say, ‘i think it’s the best course of treatment.’
beatrice nods, smiles once down at tai and rubs her little chest while tai squirms and babbles happily. for such a sick kid — on oxygen and a feeding tube, two ivs because her veins are so small — she’s generally happy, bright in a way that peds usually isn’t. she’s not guaranteed to survive so, like all of your patients, you don’t get too attached. beatrice hasn’t had that problem before, either, caring but not too much, unlike ava, who feels each loss as if it’s his own. but the way that beatrice lingers and lets tai hold onto her fingers while she tells your intern exactly what she wants from the ekg and bloodwork — you think this might be different. 
/
it’s touch and go for a while: you and beatrice are brilliant surgeons but, even with all of the tests and scans and practice, tai’s surgery is longer and more difficult than you could’ve prepared for: her heart is weak and so, so small; even beatrice struggles to place the careful, clever sutures you’ve watched her throw with ease, most surgeries, and for years. it takes longer than you would’ve liked to get her off bypass, much longer than you would’ve liked for her heart to start beating again in beatrice’s hands. 
but: it does beat. weak and small, yes, but sure, and steady, and even, all the valves and ventricles ready to heal as they should be. tai’s cheeks, once she’s settled in the picu again, are rosy, her skin warm, her oxygen sats already up comfortably from before. you’d wired her sternum shut and the incision running down her tiny chest will leave a scar, and she’ll probably need another procedure or two as she gets older — but she will get older, as far as you can tell. 
beatrice goes through — a little unexpected for the aftermath of a successful surgery, and far beyond the end of her relatively easy scheduled shift — all of the potential complications tai could face, how she was without a flow of properly oxygenated blood to her brain for an amount of time that frustrated her — maybe even frightened her. for as long as you’ve known beatrice — dr. choi — through undergrad and medical school, then residency and fellowships, into your first few years as attendings, she’s as unflappable as they come, unless it’s someone she loves who might be hurt, who might not get well. you’ve seen it with ava and her back, and shannon and mary after a car accident that looked much worse than it actually was, and even one time camila got the flu. 
it surprises you in the moment when beatrice, carefully taking off her scrub cap — patterned with little otters and rainbows, a ridiculous gift from ava that beatrice horrifically wears with not a single ounce of hesitation or embarrassment — slips into her hospital-issued fleece quarterzip and sits down in the chair by tai’s bassinet once you and the nurses get all of her machines situated. 
‘i’ll stay with her, dr. villaumbrosia,’ beatrice says, soft and formal.
‘there’s plenty of nurses, and dr. amunet, if you want to go home.’
beatrice shakes her head and leans over tai’s sleeping form, heavily sedated for the next few days so she’s not in pain, and runs a gentle finger along her cheek. ‘she — she doesn’t have anyone,’ she says, as much explanation as you need. ‘plus, dr. silva is on call tonight anyway.’
you resist the urge to say something mean about ava; he’s actually very talented and smart and he makes your best friend, your sister, very happy, and very full — even if he is the most annoying person you know. tai is alone, and all beatrice has to go home to, right now, is a beautiful house that’s empty of all of the life ava brings anywhere, leftovers in the fridge, a house that you know has an empty bedroom just down the hall from the primary, holding a lot of ava’s patient, quiet hope in the space.
‘okay,’ you say, not bothering her, just this once: tai is very small and still very sick; you’ve read enough studies to know that comfort, especially with babies who haven’t known as much of it as they should, can be extremely monumental in their ability to heal. ‘i’m sure you can handle if anything pops up, but i’d like to know anyway. text me.’
beatrice looks up from tai to nod, a grim smile on her face mellowed, seemingly, by tai’s steady breaths against beatrice’s palm. ‘will do.’
you nod and don’t bother to ask for anything else from her, taking your leave while she takes her glasses off and rubs her eyes, then slumps a little in the chair but keeps her hand on tai’s stomach, soothing and warm and present. tai has been alone her entire life, even if it’s only been very short; you believe that her body will know that she’s not anymore, at least for now.
/
it’s not often that you choose to come to work early, not often that you allow yourself to have much attachment to patients and their outcomes beyond whether or not you practiced the best medicine possible — no one would be able to do peds and neonatal surgery if they did — but you park far before the sun comes up and force yourself to grab three cups of coffee from the cafe before you head to the picu.
it doesn’t surprise you when you see both beatrice and ava by tai’s bassinet now, beatrice fast asleep, slumped over fully on ava’s shoulder, and ava scrolling through an ipad, probably taking care of charting here rather than in her office. ava smiles up at you, never deterred by your grumbling or eye rolls, and, just this once, you smile back.
‘dr. silva,’ you greet. ‘how’s she doing?’ you ask, handing him the coffee.
‘totally steady all night,’ ava says quietly, sounding far too proud of a baby that isn’t even really beatrice’s patient, let alone theirs. ‘she’s really strong, even if she’s small.’
you look over tai’s vitals from the past night quickly and it’s true, she is getting better even faster than you could’ve hoped. ‘she is.’
ava smiles, then looks over at a fast asleep beatrice, a little aching. ’bea said she’s an orphan?’
you sit down next to them both and nod; you assume beatrice gave ava enough of the details. ‘we’ll work to place her with a good family once she’s recovered well.’ the warning is unspoken: don’t get too attached.
ava looks over at beatrice, who has spent the entire night asleep in the picu over a baby whose heart she massaged until it beat again in her hands. he nods. ‘yeah,’ he says, hopeful despite it all. ‘yeah.’
/
‘i — i can do it.’
‘dr. choi.’
‘no,’ beatrice says, ‘it’s fine. i’m on call tonight, and it’s good for her.’
it is, you both know it, but tai is healing and, if all goes according to plan, will be released in a week or two, hopefully to a family who’s equipped to care for her, to raise her gently and generously and well. beatrice — and ava, whenever they make up a very flimsy excuse — have been in tai’s room often, and you know they’ve grown attached even though you warned them not to. but beatrice taking her scrub top off and picking tai up gently, careful of her leads and her still-tender chest, and then holding her close and settling into a rocking chair. 
‘beatrice,’ you say, sitting down across from her. 
‘have you — has there been a family chosen?’
you’re not the one in charge of any of that, your contributions to the organization being both your sixth-generation-surgeon money and your sixth-generation-surgeon talent, but you know there hasn’t been a decision made yet. you shake your head. 
she nods. ‘we…’ she swallows, readjusts so tai is held even closer, her left ear close to beatrice’s heart. ‘i spoke with ava. a lot, actually. and, well, you obviously know i’m chinese; i can teach her how to speak mandarin and make mapo doufu and she won’t — she won’t miss that part. and ava knows about not having a family of origin, and he’s, like, the best. and,’ she continues, ‘we’re both surgeons. you know she’s going to need care now, but also her whole life, and i — i fixed her heart.’ she can’t even look at you, just looks at tai’s peaceful little face as her voice gets wobbly and she sniffles. 
beatrice, above all, means what she says. she’s maybe one of the least impulsive people you’ve ever met, agonizing for as long as you’ve known her over haircuts and new hiking gear and dinner reservations, as methodical as it comes when she practices medicine. 
‘i —‘ she looks at tai once more and then takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. ‘i love her.’
you know, more than anything, ava has made beatrice want to be brave. you let it sink in, let it hit you like a tidal wave of easy warmth, then really let yourself look at your oldest friend and every careful thing about her, lean muscles and long-healed scars, the most careful thing held against her chest — the same skin, bathed in the light of an easy sunrise. ‘well okay then.’
beatrice seems surprised, for a moment, as if you would say no, or doubt her, or discourage or argue. ‘really?’
you nod, brusque mostly so you don’t cry. ‘i’ll connect you with aja; she’ll be able to help you with all the paperwork. i’ll put in my recommendation, of course.’
beatrice adjusts tai so she can free a hand to wipe a few tears. ‘thank you, lilith.’
‘let’s just hope she takes after you, not ava.’
beatrice laughs, and it makes tai smile.
/
‘no.’
‘she’s —‘
‘your daughter,’ you say. ‘you’re not tai’s doctor any longer, haven’t been in months.’
beatrice frowns, arms crossed. ava smiles far too serenely for your liking next to her.
‘she’ll be fine, babe,’ she says. ‘it’s just a post-op, super normal.’ she turns toward tai, happily squealing at a nurse playing peak-a-boo with her while they get her situated on the exam table. 
beatrice glowers but concedes, softening immediately when ava squeezes her bicep. they’re both definitely exhausted but happier than you could’ve really imagined; the empty bedroom now filled with a plethora of toys and clothes, colorful animals on the walls, a safe crib with a space mobile you’d personally given them. it makes sense to you, easily, that they’re good parents — kind and attentive and funny — even if, right now, they’re driving you insane. they’re both in comfortable clothes, not bothering with anything more on their shared day off. 
you have to physically shoo beatrice away as you’re listening to tai’s heart, which is ridiculous because you’re sure beatrice does it at home, probably every night. you’re more relieved than you would ever let on that her heartbeat is normal and steady — perfect, as far as you’re concerned. you go through the rest of her check-up and she’s as healthy as can be, gaining weight well, rolling over, holding her head up, starting to eat baby food — yes to bananas; no to green beans so far — not sleep regressing as much as they’d feared. 
‘she’s doing great,’ you reassure. 
‘fuck yeah she is,’ ava says, then sighs. ‘before either of you start, first of all, language is all relative.’
‘ava, we can’t have her first word being f—‘
‘— secondly,’ ava interrupts, then looks at beatrice putting tai back into her dinosaur onesie, slipping a warm cap onto her head, ‘she’s the best baby of all time.’
‘she is wonderful,’ beatrice says, still a little reverent.
ava elbows you as beatrice carefully pulls socks onto tai’s feet. ‘one of the better ones i’ve met,’ you concede, because you really do love tai, and, all things considered, she’s an easy, happy baby. ‘certainly better than i thought would be possible with either of you.’
ava rolls her eyes. ‘i read your recommendation.’ horrifyingly, she starts reciting it, so you move as quickly as you can.
‘i have a tight schedule today,’ you interrupt, beatrice laughing quietly, smiling at both of you with far too much amusement.
‘bye lil,’ she says. ‘thanks for everything.’
‘yeah, yeah,’ you say, but there’s no bite to it. ‘see you at dinner.’
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gardenofnoah · 11 months
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the fingers that rake through your hair coax you awake—gently, and that in itself is a little jarring.
not because it’s Touya—no, you know he’s a big softie—but because for a second, when you wake, you’re somewhere else. there, love is not gentle and hands that don’t hurt are unfamiliar, until you blink hard enough that the ghosts start to dissolve into a familiar shape.
after the few seconds of bleary eyes, you find only Touya. for some reason, it makes you cry.
he doesn’t startle—he just keeps the steady drag of his fingers across your scalp and watches. he’s patient, and you’re embarrassed, but you know that he understands so you don’t bother explaining. the silence stretches and bends between you but it isn’t painful.
“you with me?” he murmurs after your tears dry, staining tracks down your cheeks.
“mm.”
you close your eyes, content under his touch—happy to let him treat you gently and know that it is safe. only to squawk when he flops down on top of you.
“touya,” you wheeze, limbs flailing out like a starfish underneath him.
“shh,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, “m’helping.”
“you’re gonna crush me—”
“oi—that ain’t nice.” he huffs, petulant, but grins as he rolls off of you, making a big show of plopping onto the floor with a dull thud. you peer over the side of the couch and find him sprawled out and staring at you—you rest your head on your forearms and stare right back. you can concede that he did help—just not to him.
“you’re my favorite.” it comes abruptly and with intent—meaning to take up the spaces that the ghosts leave behind.
he screws his face up like he’s eaten something sour, but the red tips of his ears give him away. “gross.”
you roll your eyes, unable to fight the warmth that sloshes around in your gut. when you’re back there, in the dark, touya will be too.
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thenothlng · 6 months
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the beginning / the end !
all good things come to an end it's been fun for everyone peace and hope are never gone love you all and say, "so long!"
happy new years wizblr!!!
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averlym · 9 months
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ghostwriter (their grandma would tell them she'd lose half her soul)
#or smth smth. having a lot of Thoughts. anyways here's the piece i've been working on and sometimes u have to just say Done#there's a lot of thinks but i am maybe a bit tired and so tmr i'll come in and add all the Tags that i'd personally want to get from myself#maybe i'll reblog the extras tmr too. this is an incredibly self indulgent piece + it probably deserves a tag ramble essay or smth#ig for now we see how it stands for itself + in the meantime:#adamandi#beatrix valeria campbell#hello!! i'm back with belated tags yippee!! alright so for funsies i'm going to make it sound like i'm going bonkers over this :3#the eye shine... the glowy eye... it's like phaethon shine but also smth about eyes to windows to the soul and like#there's two beatrixes here! half the soul. lost part doing things specific to the phaethon and here it's portrayed as tearing off her name#because that's really; truly; when it all starts!! also notable for the ghostly beatrix is i did it more painterly and cloaked in shadow and#fading into the bg. i think i was super duper specificish about where the glow comes from! front lighting back lighting beloved!!! like help#let's put it this way- beatrix face always glowy. important parts of paper also glowy. it's just that different elements are turned away#from the viewer by each beatrix!! also also. let's talk about the very gently implied blood and red etcetera#like the red string is canonical and i love personally the whole red strings of fate thing even though it's not Here Applicable exactly but#that definitely was an influence! and also the blood in the bg... i'm starting to think this is a recurring trend. but anyway shadowy bea#the other strings hang while the red string loops!! so like that one string feels almost alive. it's a sort of whimsical i put on the same#as metaphorical glowy eye!! also also the eye is lowkey influenced by the whole idea of Eyes and Spotlights within the show and also glow#as in power as in heyyy you ever think about writing as a visual medium huh#speaking of writing!! there is no beatrix thingy complete in my head without text sorrry but the black text overlays are always so >>> to me#and in the sense of art styles and overlays shoutout to all the black crosshatching outline thingys because For Some Reason in my mind#of all the characters beatrix feels like the bnw ink printed illustrations you get in books idk#fun fact! i spent so long rendering this and that was fine i liked it! but then trying to figure out text to go on the papers was a Thing#i tried to do. but then gave up on! sometimes i have to pick my battles and graphic design is indubitably Not my passion bc Fonts#fun facts about this is i Actually did start with a quick sketch in mind and there's been so many changed elements. in the og the front#paper for instance had 'ardess murders' written on it and the back one said phaethon interviews.. i like the nominee list better it feels#more narrative-esque and less passive than her just holding her writing.! other elements that got discontinued were that#front beatrix was supposed to blur into the other ghostly beatrix but i couldn't do it without sacrificing clarity so... no... no blurry#oh and the red string morphing at the ends to smth more abstract was always there from the start!! og had more floating papers#and also a silhouette of vincent and a scalpel bc 'one who pulls the strings' but that (pun intended)! got cut (hahahahahahaha) (sorry)#used also to be a lot of print room clutter but that got cut to bc compositionally i made beatrix larger (learned lesson from last art)
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plazsma · 8 months
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well if no one else is gonna say it
headcanon time. sora in herself is a trans allegory. her name change, her new identity, being rejected from her parents but building herself to be someone who she truly is whilst also discovering herself along the way,, as well her attachment to nya as a female role model.
mtf sora is real to me
also trans pallette
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speremint · 4 months
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My short queen….
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sequinsnstars · 17 days
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done w math and science finals 🙏🏽 they went pretty well def better than i thought they would!! gonna log off for now 💘💘 if i didn't respond to a rb conversation or a reply on a post i WILL come back to it after i get thru a bunch of work trust
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softavasilva · 2 years
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need ava to get extremely jealous over beatrice and for the halo to react and go unhinge
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breadsoup00 · 1 year
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https://www.tumblr.com/breadsoup00/712859649609695232
So cute that u think u have that much power to “beat him into oblivion” the delulu is deluluing
Bestie..he’s a fictional character.. 😭
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waitineedaname · 8 months
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i started playing night in the woods (i restarted it bc i never finished it) and uh. sorry not sorry for going through ur saved nitw posts ^_^ really good game im so normal (lying)
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FUCK YEAH!!!!! looking at discord and seeing you were playing nitw made me very happy lskdjflkdsjf it's SUCH a good game, genuinely one of my favorites. the demon tower and guitar bits are v hard, I never did very well with them lmao but luckily you don't have to do them properly to get through the story, they're just bonus
I have Many nitw thoughts but I don't want to spoil you too bad lol so I'll keep them general. I love how the characters and dialogue are written augh it's so fucking good, they all feel like real people I would know. mae in particular felt like being read for filth, idk if I should've related to her so hard. and the atmosphere is so good too, like it really feels like a real dying town. I've lived in places like that, they really nailed it. and just the story it tells with all its complexity is amazing, I love how many things it touches on with such realism and care while also having vaguely supernatural elements. chef's kiss, amazing game
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bugbonesandthinskin · 2 months
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HELLOOOOO MUTUALLLL good evening I am bored so I thought I’d pop in here and let you know that you’re so cool and awesome. You have gotten me into both JJK and Trigun Stampede without knowing it and yeah… so thank you !! Anyways, random question. What’s your favourite straight/straight-passing couple in media?
HIII SWEETPEA !!!!!! omg i adore you, lemme give u a little smooch mwah mwah mwah
YEAAAHHH i’ve successfully indoctrinated a poor soul into two of my fav medias. i’ve succeeded in life i think
ok ok ok that’s a good question. i gotta say i’m a sucker for Yuki and Itsuomi from A Sign of Affection!! they’re so so so cute i wanna eat them
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can i say i absolutely love how you write ava being casually nonbinary so much. there are no fucking words to describe how much i fucking love your in depth exploration of butch beatrice, especially as an asian genderqueer sapphic who relates a lot to beatrice, your fics about it is definitely some of my top fav fics in the fandom, and like lowkey inspiring to me in my own journey to better accepting my queerness and exploring what it means for me, but also on the other end of the spectrum, i just love the casual simplicity (not sure if that’s the word i’m looking for) you write ava being nonbinary with
ava’s nonbinary, and it’s just a simple everyday fact of life just like the grass is green and the sun goes up and down everyday, there’s no need to dwell on it because ava doesn’t need to dwell on it and maybe her relationship or feelings about gender will change or get more complicated in the future or they won’t change one bit, but that doesn’t matter because it’s not the future right now and they’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it
[lil teeny bit of nb ava for the culture]
//
'hey,' ava says, trailing a hand up and down the inside of your forearm, 'do you... do you care?'
you have absolutely no idea what she's talking about; you care about a lot of things, and, more and more, there are plenty of things you also let fall to the wayside: sometimes they just are.
'do i care about what?'
ava sighs, scoots a little away from you on the couch, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 'that i — i don't feel like i have a gender, or whatever. like, i'm a girl, i guess? but only because that's what people thought, and told me. but i don't feel like anything else. i mean, first of all, the gender binary is a tool of colonial oppression and white supremacy, especially when employed by the church —'
'— yes, that's true —'
'— but also, i have a literal divine battery pack keeping me alive, allegedly —'
'— the halo definitely is keeping you alive, we know that —'
'— and i've been to, like, realms and stuff. met a few gods; fought a few demons. fell in love with you.' she smiles softly. 'so it's just... limiting, to me. it feels limiting, to be one thing.'
'i don't think binary gender makes sense to me either,' you say, allow yourself to admit. ava probably has figured it out, even if you haven't been able to say it: you wear a binder some days, and you don't feel anything against she/her pronouns but there's masculinity and androgyny you crave, that you're just starting to feel steady and free enough to explore. 'i feel it differently than you — for me, being a woman is a particular experience that matters, but not in the way people want women to be. i don't know, it's a work in progress.' she squeezes your hand with a gentle smile. 'but, ava, i only care insomuch as you're the love of my life, and i want you to feel seen and cared for, just for who you are. i want to know you, whoever that is.'
she swallows and rests her head on your chest; the documentary about mushrooms she had put on in the background plays quietly. 'thank you.' she turns so her nose is pressed against your sternum, hugging you tight. 'i just know it's taken you a long time to, like, be okay with your own sexuality, and i didn't want to throw you for a loop if you were feeling really comfy with, you know.'
'being a lesbian?' you ask, try to keep the laugh out of your voice. 'i certainly don't want that to ever exclude gender expansive people, even if it's a word i like.'
'well, of course,' ava says, her breath warm through your t-shirt. 'you're you; you're the best there is.'
'i don't know about that.'
'nah, it's true. i do know. i'm the beatrice expert. god says so too, direct message. hotter jesus, remember?'
you do laugh, this time, and rub comfortingly up and down her spine, still your hand over the faint, warm hum of the halo. 'no matter what pronouns you use, or what name feels right, or what your gender expression is, i love you. i'm queer, which is expansive and abundant.' you have to swallow because, maybe for the first time ever, you believe the words wholeheartedly. your friends and your therapist and books and music and shows that you love have said them; you have said them, before, but not quite like this. the grace you want to give to ava is far beyond the grace you have ever allowed of yourself. 'queerness is infinite. and so is my love for you.'
ava sniffles and then wipes her nose with the back of her hand, props herself up on an elbow and kisses you. 'the same goes for you, you know that, right?'
'yes,' you say. 'i — i hold it close, often.'
she pauses, holds your jaw in her palm, and then kisses you. you kiss her back, with your eyes closed, with tears pressing at them that won't fall, not this time.
ava doesn't hesitate a few days later when she introduces herself to a few of your friends and says that they can use any pronouns; she tries on one of your binders one afternoon and then frowns and laughs and says, god, i love my boobs but then quietly makes sure to massage your shoulders every evening after that. she tries on any clothes she wants, picks out a suit one day that she whistles at when she sees herself in the mirror, and then laughs. there's quiet nights and loud brunches and your friends who consistently use different pronouns for ava without batting an eye, and it makes her smile even as she dumps salsa that will be way too hot on her chilaquiles and then has to eat them trying to hide a grimace. you don't know how to have that much freedom, not yet, but ava holds your hand and leads you along, always.
you're figuring it out, the loosening of limits you'd set so tight within yourself; ava's figuring it out too: how to be, and how to become when, of course, there's still cruelty — but there's infinite abundance too. you turn back to the documentary — all the fungi that weaves its ways in and out of the world, for longer than you can imagine. all the fish in the sea; all the stars in the sky — a steadfastness and a wonder and a joy, to exist beyond. to become.
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gardenofnoah · 1 year
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hi i just would like to say that if father’s day is hard for you, i am very proud of you for making it through the day and if i ever see that dude just know that he will be dealt with.
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thenothlng · 10 months
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hmmm still coping post-novus. had some um. Thoughts. about the aftermath of the final boss
NOVUS SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT.
TW FOR slight emetophobia/spitting up stuff blech blech blech
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so uh. yeah that round 1 devour and stuff? yea there has to be some strange and unsettling and traumatic consequences to being swallowed up by the big purple glue monster and i think about that sometimes. hashtag let the wizard rest or smthin
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