presence // aventurine
he'll never outrightly ask you what it is, not at the outset.
he might find you curled on the couch, quiet, trying to breathe out the something in your chest that writhes and constricts, or in tears, but he won't ask, only sit quietly with you, lean against you, the weight of him enough to reassure you of his presence. maybe you reach for him, curl into the hollow of his body, and he'll let you, hold you until the tears stop, or you can feel your hands again, or you fall asleep, to the steady rhythm of his heart.
you'll wake, or look at him, and he'll speak, then, maybe look back at you with those iridescent eyes that you love, as he asks, softly, if you're feeling better, if you want to talk about it.
he'll keep you company, either way, listening. there is a steadiness in the weight of his arms around you, in the even beat of his heart against your back. you'll have to move, eventually, one of your legs falling asleep under you, and you'll both laugh, and shift. he gently disentangles himself from you, to get you something to drink. you settle back down, curled around each other, talk quietly until the sunlight changes.
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two years!! :D it’s been two years since my final curtain call and seven years since Jimlingss began! Seven years!!! Now that’s a crazy yet meaningful number!
Hello to everyone reading this message :D hopefully you remember me (it’s ok if you don’t) and for those who care, hopefully this is a treat! just a quick update on my life — I successfully completed my first year of law school and what a whirlwind it’s been.
I’ve had so many ups and downs in the past year and I honestly feel like I’ve changed a lot. like evolved from pichu to pikachu. It was my first time moving away from home, away from my parents, and making so many friends. it’s been 20% bitter and 80% sweet. overall, I feel like I’ve learnt so much about myself and became a lot more stable in who I am.
school is hard but completely manageable. luckily, I don’t think my choice was wrong. there are days I quite enjoy what I’m learning. I got 2 years left in the game. soon (hopefully) I’ll be making the big bucks $$$ and I’ll be able to fund my sugar baby dreams (except I’ll also be my own sugar mommy). Although my dating life is as stale as always with 0 movement, I’ve become close with a handful of folks that I hold dearly to my heart. guess I’m in my friendship arc hahahaha
funny enough, I actually came back to this blog out of my own volition 2 weeks ago and re-read some of my stories. I feel so nostalgic. some of my stories really slap ngl. anyway, I really miss creative writing so much. Fortunately, there’s a few extracurriculars at school that allow me to write creatively so it’s somewhat of an outlet for me. it’s not fully satisfying but it’s something!!
I regularly come back to tumblr to check messages and do plagiarism checks lol. Speaking of which, I’ll take this time to answer some messages in my inbox.
unfortunately, i don’t have any socials that anyone can follow me on. my socials are pretty private and only the people who i’m close to, I follow and vice versa. but no worries because I will always come back to this blog to do a yearly update so you’ll hear from me! I will satiate your curiosity if you’re every curious about what I’m up to!!
for anyone who ever messages me compliments to my stories and/or missing my presence, no worries, I read them all :) your messages and feedback is never lost! it’s very sweet and always warms my heart.
if you can’t reach my masterlist, it’s here lol
I’ve kind of fallen off my fic reading game so if you ask me if I know a specific fic, I won’t be much of help unfortunately ://
if my fics ever help you through hard times, then I’m super glad!!! life can undoubtably be downright terrible. life can really really suck (understatement). but I think it’s comforting to know that everyone at some point thinks the same. it’s a universal sentiment - and in that, you’re not alone.
anyway, that’s it for now! you’ll hear from me again!
I’ll be back! And I hope you will too! :>
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always on that stupid boat eternally on that stupid boat. aka what i imagine was roier cubito's reaction on that boat as it sped away from egg island, with some bloodhounds included for fun. full thing under read more and link to this on ao3:
Roier was still standing near the stern. He'd been there for hours. It was the same place he’d been standing at when the bomb had dropped, and he hadn't moved since. Not since the boat had started speeding away after Tubbo finally figured out how to lift the anchor, and not even since the rocky aftershocks had finally stopped churning the waves. The rest of them, the rest of them that had made it onboard, kept checking in on him, occasionally, when they could. Walking back to stand next to him as he faced the ocean and an island that could no longer be seen. Motionless. Soundless.
Bagi had tried, initially, to guide him to a seat, back when everyone else’s shock had started to set in. He had shrugged her off without a word. He’d done the same thing to anyone else’s attempts since. Etoiles softly calling out his name, saying, “Roier, bro? My friend?” had had similar results. So they left him alone, and hoped he’d resurface. A blanket that Phil had found somewhere deep in storage while trying to scrounge for supplies was draped over his shoulders like a cape and like the comfort he was refusing.
Hours more pass like that by the time a rustling arises from Roier’s corner. Most of them are asleep or at least trying to be, and the loudest sound apart from the ocean’s lapping waves hitting against the boat’s hull is the twinkling of stars overhead and occasional snores from the cabin below. The rustling jolts Etoiles from the half-doze he’d fallen under while standing guard to Roier’s left. He reaches instinctively for a sword that’s not there. Right. It’s turning to dust somewhere, back on that island, after being dropped by Phil and lost mid-flight to the boat.
There's movement. That's new. It catches Etoiles’ attention from where he notices it out of the corner of his eye, and he only barely manages to scramble fast enough to catch Roier as he crumbles.
They both hit the floor. In Etoiles’ arms, Roier shakes as his murmurs whisper “Pendejo no duro nada, nada.”
They both know the tremors are tinged with something more than heartbreak.
“Nada,” Roier repeats, picking himself up and away from Etoiles while glaring back toward the same spot of ocean he'd been looking at before. Ese culero, his eyes try to say.
He looks back down at Etoiles, still on the floor and staring up at him. A- something, drags its way across his face as he scoffs. It might be a smirk. “Man,” he calls down, “No mames. Why are you on the floor, pendejo? Are the- are the fancy boat beds not toxic enough for you? You miss the ground?”
Etoiles just looks back up at him. Okay. “Are you stupid, bro? Don't be stupid, man. I was waiting for you, pendejo,” he tells Roier, putting on a similar grin as he stands up and dusts himself off.
He shoves at Roier’s shoulders, gently, playfully, when Roier says, “Hm, no, I don't think so.”
“You don't think so? Oh, well, if you don't think so! I guess I must be a liar, then!”
Roier starts to direct them forward, as if he's the one that explored the boat instead of the one that stood at the stern, motionless, for hours. There's not a single glance back to that invisible island.
“You just don't think the beds are toxic enough. You need it more toxic? Don't be so mean or I'll cry for the beds, I swear man, I'll cry for the beds.” Neither of them comment on Roier’s desert dry eyes. How they're tinted red not with tears but from being open for so long.
The lack of direction seems to catch up to Roier, suddenly, as he stumbles while turning about to look for the cabin door. Etoiles reaches out, hand to his shoulder to steady him.
“Roier, man. You uh, you good, bro?” He asks, not removing his hand even after Roier stabilizes.
“Fuckin boats, man.” A chuckle. “I'm not a mermaid. Is Cucurucho too poor for a plane? We're so poor, man. Quesadilla Island is so poor, what the fuck.”
“Now you are the one being toxic, bro.” Etoiles says, turning them, pointing them in the direction of the cabin door and the beds underneath. He looks at Roier again. At the tightness in his shoulders. At how he's refusing to turn back toward the island. “Roier, my bro, do you want-”
“Sleep!” Roier shouts, nodding like the idea will save him. “Yes. On a not toxic bed, because man, I'm not like you. I'm not mean to the beds like you.”
They reach the cabin door a half second later and Roier pauses, hand on the door knob. The humor slides off his shoulders, and the grin drops from his face.
“Did.” The tremors are still there, hiding under his hoodie. His hand had shaken when he reached for the door. Etoiles hadn't mentioned it. “Did anyone else make it on, after?”
Etoiles looks at Roier, at the way his gaze is glued to the door knob.
“No, my friend. I was the last one on.”
“Oh. Okay. Bueno,” he says, hand and gaze still on the door. “Bueno. Pues F, no?” He chuckles again, finally dragging his attention back to Etoiles as he opens the door. The humor slinks back. “Are you gonna tryhard sleep now? Is that what you'll do, man?”
“Bro, if anyone is going to tryhard sleep, it's the Mexican beast!”
“Ah, facts, factoids. Pure fuckin facts, bro.”
Although there are enough rooms to not, they'll share a room when they make it downstairs and to the sleeping quarters. They're used to it, by now.
And they'll never talk about it. At least, they'll never talk about it for however long they're on that stupid boat.
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if you dont mind me asking, could you tell me more about Andromeda?
(vibrating with excitement) yeah i'll be really normal about it too
Andromeda (it/he/she/they), also known under their stage name, ANDROI-MEDA (haha because they're an android, get it) is an android pop star in the sci-fi oc verse i've been working on with @vampire-romancer !
he was created and developed as a project by a team from MIDAS records, a major record label, to be the "perfect" pop star. in the 7 years since its debut, ANDROI-MEDA has seen unprecedented success. she's bubbly and fun, friendly and graceful, kind to fans, the whole nine yards.
behind the scenes, however, they're bitter and jaded. Andromeda never asked for the fame they were created for, its never had true privacy or connection with others, and he's treated as disposable by the management team at MIDAS. quite literally.
the team makes more money if she can work indefinitely, so doing crazy things like "powering down/going into 'sleep' mode" or "actually getting repairs for damages" is bad for business. it's faster and cheaper to just keep her working until he breaks down, even artificially accelerating its processors if needed, and then uploading whatever memories remained in tact to a new body and moving on.
andromeda is secretly so very angry and scared and has no way to express it because they're the happy bubbly cutesy pop star with no control over their public image or message. when they start developing feelings for an up and coming alien indie-rock artist, who always tells it like it is and isn't afraid of a little controversy, Styx, (made by @vampire-romancer, if you want more info, ask them <3), it can't tell if the feelings are Jealousy, a Crush, or "I want to hit you with a rock".
but that is my little overview about them ! i think hes sooo silly :P its got light up LED panels along its body that change color to reflect their mood and strands of light up fiber optic cable woven into their hair!
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