you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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Dear 5+ asks I have had since last saturday which I wont be answering individually cause I don't want to put a target on your back:
Don't send me messages asking about GITM updates without reading my bajillion posts/ANs on the subject.
'not trying to be rude' - well you are being rude, actually, friend. receiving these messages doesnt make me feel good. In fact, it makes me feel very bad. If you spent half the effort it takes to write an ask actually reading the information I have already given people, rather than demanding a personalised answer, then we would all be a lot happier.
Another reminder, a bit louder for people in the back:
My chapters are now 12-15k words each for gitm, because of this I am now following a 3 weekly update schedule. I work full time and write for hours every evening. If that is not good enough for you, you can kindly fuck off.
peace & love, and all that
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the fluff fic fest is back!
i have a lot to atone for given how many thousands of words of angst i wrote last year leading up to a single fluffy scene, so i'm both taking another crack at it and spreading the word!
dreamwidth community with all the details: fluffityfluffexchange.dreamwidth.org
typical fic exchange requirements of 1000 word minimum fic or original art on unlined paper. they take a broad view of fluff, including angstifluff and smut tropes.
nominations are open now!! (a great part of this exchange is that nominations will continue to be open through sign-ups, but i learned last year it's good to seed the ground early so more people will use your pairings & tags...)
sign-ups: march 26-april 2
assignments due: may 26
works revealed: may 31
creators revealed: june 7
tagset for nominations: here!!
refer to the community for all instructions, but short version is: you can use / and & relationships, and instead of using the canon relationship tags, you add a (fandom or abbreviation) disambiguation at the end of each one -- e.g. fox mulder/dana scully (xf) or margaret houlihan & hawkeye pierce (mash tv).
additional tags: nominate specific or vague tropes you'd like to see! (e.g. "character a thinks something bad happened to character b but actually they were just picking up mcdonalds" or "hurt/comfort fluff")
edit: i am NOT the creator or mod of this event!! check out the dreamwidth for the mod info ☺️
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Entry to RoyEd Week 2023 August 2nd Day 2 - Soulmate AU
(Edited: Long fic ahead! Also I posted this on ao3 too :> thank you everyone for all the wonderful comments!! I am all giddy over them)
It was already late when they arrived at the Rockbell’s house, where villagers said they could find the Elric brothers if they were not home. The cottage was dim inside, only allowing the faintest trace of dusk to put shape to the helpless boy in the wheelchair, and the enormous suit of armour towering over him.
In the literal blink of an eye, Roy Mustang’s life was turned upside down.
Despite the darkness, Roy saw the boy in foreign vividness that he had never witnessed; colours exploded in front of his eyes like fireworks, rendering him speechless. The boy’s shade was accentuated by a distinct warmth— Roy would later learn the name of the colour that was gold, a pigment that he would come to associate with justice, passion, and everything that was pure and magnificent.
Before arriving at Resembool, Roy had rehearsed his recruitment speech for five different situations, but none of which took the current one into account. For the first time in a long while, he had no idea what to say.
At that moment, assaulted by colours he had yet to know, he only knew one thing— that destiny had cursed this little boy to be attached to him, Roy Mustang. A man who had far more enemies than allies, more nightmares than sleep— more dead than alive.
The boy did not give any visible reaction to Roy’s loud entry into the house, and his aimless eyes had already betrayed his state to Roy.
He could not afford to have a soulmate. Not when his soulmate sat defencelessly like this, deaf to the entire world. Being his soulmate meant putting a target on their back, meant always sleeping with an eye open, meant never finding peace till the day of his death.
He could not, in good conscience— with what little he had remained of it— put his soulmate through what his life entailed. Anyone sane enough would be able to see him from a distance and turn around immediately. Nobody deserved to be Roy’s soulmate to experience what he would inevitably put them through. No one would be tough and yet foolish enough to stay.
Ignoring the nausea this revelation has caused him, Roy bit his tongue and demanded an explanation for the situation instead. He listened, in slowly freezing horror, to the younger brother of the Elrics– Alphonse Elric– explaining how they ended up in their current bodies.
Roy looked at Edward Elric who was missing two limbs, and reminded himself that this young boy in front of him had committed the greatest taboo in alchemy and survived. Then, as if it was not enough, did it again to bargain his brother’s soul back. An improbable, stupid, and lethal decision—yet it was undeniable that he had done the unthinkable and survived the consequences. At such a young age nonetheless, when most alchemists' apprentices were still struggling with the most basic of elements.
Perhaps given time, this boy could grow into someone beyond Roy’s imagination. Perhaps given time, Roy could grow into someone strong enough to shield his soulmate from harm.
And so Roy told him, in an earnestness that surprised even himself, that when he was ready, he could find Roy in East City and Roy would provide him with resources that could put him back on his feet. That it would be a road filled with thorns and danger, but the rewards were worth the risk.
Against his better judgement, Roy had provided his soulmate a choice. Edward could choose to run after him into the shower of bullets and webs of lies, or he could choose to stay in the quiet countryside and never let their paths cross again.
Secretly, Roy wished that his soulmate would choose the latter, wiser option. But he also knew acutely that the world had a morbid sense of humour, and whoever that was tied with him could never have any good sense in them. If fate had decided that they were meant to be, then his soulmate must have been as much of a stubborn fool as him, if not more.
Roy bid the family goodbye, and walked out of the dark shadows of the cottage. He was greeted with an entirely new world, now coloured in radiant hues he could not put words to.
He examined his palm under the flickering street light. He could see his veins faintly under his skin, pumping blood into every corner of his body. It was purple and flesh and red and human. It was warm and colourful and alive.
Remember it, remember what I’ve said, and catch up to me. Roy thought. Those who cannot keep up with me cannot be my soulmate.
I’m putting my faith in you that, no matter which way you end up choosing, our paths will converge, and we shall meet again at a time when you and I are wiser and stronger and unmovable in the face of danger. I’m putting my faith in you that, regardless of the dangers on my journey, you will find me and stay beside me and not be frightened.
I’m choosing to believe, if fate has decided that I’m still worthy of a soulmate despite my sins, then there must still be something redeemable in me, and you must be someone with enough love to love me for the monster I am.
Please find me soon.
==============================
And then Ed surprised him after a year when Roy expected to wait at least 5 more years lmfao
I wanted to play on the idea of “you only begin to see colour once you’ve met your soulmate” and thought VERY hard about how to visualise it without turning it into a long comic. My very stupid, no good brain came up with the idea of putting a colour wheel in the background :> in hindsight it’s very cringe but at that point it was already too late to give up or change it lmaooooo
I also put paint and paint brushes around as decoration which i think is kind of cute ^^ and special thanks to my sister who helped me fix the colouring because my usual way of doing it just… lacks the vibrancy this prompt asks for. She’s a goddess and 192729% better at this drawing business than me.
@royedweek2023
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