#uncertainty

[safe-haven-safe-place]

[classycookiexo]

[feral-ballad]

Cristina Peri Rossi, tr. by Diana P. Decker, from These Are Not Sweet Girls: Poetry by Latin American Women; "Evohe"

[Text ID: "I feel something undefined"]

[thepeacefulgarden]

Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not this week, this month, this season, or this year. Maybe not for a very long time. Maybe it's going to take a lot of work and effort on your part. But eventually, you will be okay.

[19silvermirrors]

That what lies beyond our magic (hidden within our hearts) 💙❤️✨

[philosophybits]

Is there any knowledge in the world which is so certain that no reasonable man could doubt it?

Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy

[thrivingisthegoal]

"Everybody likes those stories about killing one butterfly and the entire future is altered, but why don't we believe that there's one little thing we can do now that might alter the entire future for the better?"

- Rebecca Solnit, from the ten part series Uncertainty and Possibility-Meeting the Climate Future

[cozycraftzbl]

Look at this dingus. This is the most depraved creature I’ve ever brought into existence. It fills me with such a deep uncertainty. Do I give them legs? Leave them to float in the void? Just start over from scratch? Idk. I’ve grown too attached to unravel it now. This thing haunts my every thought.

[storytimewriting]

you gave me a sense of comfort in the uncertainty

[dominimoonbeam]

What's Happening?

Gavin/Freelancer sickfic I wrote for @glassbearclock my beloved!

Early early relationship, Freelancer has a cold but is worried that if they cancel on a date with Gavin he won't come back.

tags: sickfic, relationship uncertainties, gavin is a caregiver, light angst

What's Happening?

Freelancer felt like shit. They’d been sucking on throat lozenges like their life depended on it all morning. And it sort of did. At least their sex life did.

Gavin was a daemon, so it wasn’t like they could get him sick, they just had to not be disgusting when he came over tonight.

Fuck, they were so tired, but they dragged themself to the pharmacy and tried to find the strongest cold medicine that wouldn’t completely knock them out. They read the label on another bottle and had to bite off a laugh when it said not to operate heavy machinery. Did Gavin’s dick count? Were they the one operating it? No.

When they noticed someone sneaking a glance at them, they realized they’d laughed aloud. Oh shit, were they acting weird? They felt like a furnace in their hoodie, even though everyone else was wearing big jackets and it was snowing out.

The walk home felt twice as long as ever before. They were so worn out. They had to resist the panicked urge to pop the bottle in that shopping bag and take a few drinks. They needed to get their shit together. They needed to perk up. They had an incubus coming over!

Oh god, what if they couldn’t get it together? What if he realized they were sick? If they weren’t any good tonight, then would he come back again?

They liked Gavin. A lot. And not just for the sex. The sex was amazing, of course. It was the stuff of fantasies that Freelancer had only read and daydreamed about before. Their own brief sexual encounters with other people had been okay, but nothing like this. And Gavin made them feel like they were the deviant, like they were just as prolific and skilled as he was. It felt amazing and empowering and fun. They weren’t ready to give that up, but more than that, so much more than that, they were worried about losing Gavin.

They wanted to believe they were more than just a good meal to him, more than just benefits. They wanted to believe they were friends. But the level of worry they had over not being able to perform tonight was making them realize they really weren’t sure.

And if he didn’t come back, how would they find him? How would they ask how he was doing or if he wanted to hang out?

They were lightheaded by the time they got to their building and leaned heavily against the wall in the elevator. The ding seemed impossibly loud.

Okay. They just had to get to their apartment, chug some of that cold medicine, take a shower, and act like they weren’t ready to sleep for twelve hours.

The elevator dinged and the door rattled open. Freelancer walked down the hall, surprised by how it stretched and wobbled. That can’t be good. They managed to get their keys out and in the door, pushing it open and stumbling in.

“You’re late,” Gavin called from the living room, sounding seductive and guarded like always. “I was starting to think you were standing me up, Deviant. I was about to—Deviant?”

Their knees hit the floor just inside their apartment and they dropped their backpack and the shopping bag, somehow fumbling both in an attempt to hang on to them and to themself while their vision turned too bright and the ground kept sliding under them.

“Deviant?” He was closer. Was that panic in his voice? Shit.

They tried to say they were okay and to apologize, maybe even laugh at how clumsy they were, but everything went dark.

-

Gavin had only gotten there a few minutes before them. He’d actually been late, largely because he was struggling over how eager he was to see them. It wasn’t normal. He shouldn’t be that invested in one of his charges. They came and went. They were there for a good time, a good time he delivered, but he’d always been careful not to get too attached.

So, he’d been intentionally late.

And it hadn’t even mattered because his deviant wasn’t home yet anyway. So he sat on the couch and wondered where they were, if he should leave, if they were over him and onto other things…

And then the door had opened and he’d stayed on the couch, trying not to act overly eager.

And then his deviant had stumbled.

Gavin was there in a flash, standing over them and trying to understand what had happened. Their aura was…strange, and they were breathing fast. They mumbled out a tangle of what he assumed was supposed to be words before their body keeled forward in a dead faint.

Gavin caught them, one hand cupping their head before it could hit the floor. Panic stampeded through him. “Deviant?” he spoke gently, picking them up in his arms and carrying them to the couch. With a thought, he’d closed the front door.

He put them on the couch and their eyes were already fluttering open. “What’s happening?” he almost pleaded, touching their face and neck. They were so hot. This couldn’t be normal for humans. He used magic to search for injuries, for anything he could heal, but there was nothing.

They looked teary, pressing their lips and swallowing hard. They flinched, like that hurt. “Shit… I’m sorry, Gav…” They sat up. He stayed on the coffee table, hands roaming their upper body, afraid they’d tip over again. They coughed and tried to hide it against their arm.

“You’re sick?”

“I’m okay.”

“We should take you to a hospital.”

They smiled a little. “For a cold? No. Seriously, I’m fine.”

“You fainted!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for it!”

They caught one of his hands. They were so warm, but they looked up at him so calmly through those glassy eyes and past those flushed cheeks. “It’s okay, really. I just overdid it, I guess. I probably shouldn’t have gone out.”

“Why did you?”

They deflated, looking down. “I was getting cold medicine. I thought if I could get something to shake the symptoms… you wouldn’t notice.”

He blinked. “I mean, I’m glad you want me that bad, but I’m not sure my dick is actually worth dying for.”

They snorted a laugh and then coughed again, curling an arm over their face. “I mean, I wouldn’t say it’s not... But I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Gavin felt like the world had dropped out from under him. He stared at them. “What?” Disappoint him?

“I know you hang out with me for…” Their aura flinched and twisted, filling with self-doubt and delicate fear. “I didn’t want you to leave or… not come back,” they confessed quietly, shoulders sagging.

Gavin tried to absorb all of that. They had gone out when they were sick to try to get this cold medicine in hopes that he would somehow not notice they were sick so he’d fuck them, not because they wanted to get laid, but because… because they thought that was his only reason for hanging out with them? And why wouldn’t they think that, when he’d definitely always put it that way for himself and for them. But they wanted him to hang out with them… Enough to go through all this effort. Enough to put out when they were definitely not into it. There was a lot about this he hated but the crystal clear center was what almost had him choking up.

Fortunately, his deviant was definitely too sick to notice at the moment.

“I like you,” Gavin said, a little terrified to say it and sort of hoping that fever would keep them from remembering.

They looked up at him, their aura smoothing out with hope. It was beautiful. And it had cost him nothing but the truth. “So… You’ll come back sometime?”

He sighed, pushing some of their hair out of their face. “Oh, deviant… I’m not leaving you like this.”

They blinked and then straightened where they sat. “Y-You want to… I was worried the whole sick thing would be a turn off…”

He laughed darkly. “It’s not, but we’re not going to fuck. You fainted from walking down the hall. What I do with you might kill you right now.”

His deviant chewed their lip, leaning closer. Their weak aura even flared with interest. He smiled. They were incredible. “I don’t think it would… We could try.” They started coughing again, this time rooting around in the pocket of their hoodie, dumping little wrappers before coming out with what looked like a candy. They shoved it in their mouth and sucked.

Gavin ignored the way his dick jumped in his pants. No. Nope. He was not going to take that bait. He snagged one of the wrappers and spread it out, reading it. Medicine.

“We should put you to bed, right? The right way, I mean,” he smirked, floundering a little. What did people do with sick people? “We should get you in your pajamas and into bed and then… water?”

“Yeah, I’ll go to bed… You don’t have to stay, Gavin. I know this isn’t fun—”

“Who says it’s not fun? I’ve never taken care of a human before. Maybe I’ll be good at it…” He smiled. “I’m good at most things I do.”

His deviant smiled. “I believe you.”

He shivered pleasantly and scooped them up. The deviant gasped, throwing arms around his neck in surprise when he picked them up. Somewhere between the living room and their bedroom he vanished their clothes, enjoyed their surprised gasp against his neck and the naked skin in his arms for a split-second, before putting their favorite pajamas on them just as quickly. He settled them on the bed and pulled the covers up over them. He’d never actually pulled the covers up before…

For a second, he stared at them and they stared at him. They were so cute.

What else?

Fluids? That was an illness thing, right? He used magic to make a big glass of water and then considered their sore throat and added a cup of tea.

Deviant smiled, their aura practically shining with happiness despite.

Was it so easy to make all humans happy? Or just his human? He changed into his own comfy sweatpants and crawled in bed with them. “What else do you need?” He pulled their body against his, again surprised by the heat radiating off of them.

“No, that’s great. Thank you. You don’t have to stay.” Their eyelids were heavy.

He stroked their hair the way he knew they liked, of course, usually he did it as a part of aftercare, but care was care, right? “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” they whispered, half-asleep already but the answer coming fast and easy.

“Then I’ll stay.”

They smiled to themself and curled into his chest. He kissed their head. When they were asleep, he magicked their phone from their bag to his hand. He googled colds and what to do. When they woke up, he’d make soup and make sure they drank some of those liquids. It looked like he’d need a thermometer and maybe medicine to reduce a fever if they kept this up. He was going to be a fucking expert when they woke up, but, until then, he stroked their hair and their back and relished the steady pulse of their aura.

[thatsbelievable]

[pratchettquotes]

A thought in her head said No. It was overruled. She'd made up her mind.

Terry Pratchett, Monstrous Regiment

[whumpster-dumpster]

"W-What are you gonna do to me?"

"Ah, ah, no spoilers. It'll be so much more fun to surprise you!"

[haleyincarnate]

And intense longing for comfort and placement.

[hexagr]

To some extent, friendship is about trying to find others who appreciate the same niche set of memes that you do.

The underpinning of civilization is shared language. But when it's more personal, i.e., in closer friendships or an intimate relationship, it's like trying to find a group of people or a person who shares the same secret language as you do.

To create—to think, to speak, to make sound, to write, etc.—is to call into the void a song in search of the thing or things that may also be looking for you.

[thursdays-at-the-coffeeshop]

A secret to happiness is letting every situation be what it is instead of what you think it should be — and then making the best of it.

“Let July be July. Let August be August.

And let yourself just be even in the uncertainty.

You don't have to fix everything. You don't have solve everything.

And you can still find peace and grow in the wild of changing things.” -MHN