i'd like to add that the shadow color isnt necessarily dictated entirely by the primary light source, but the bounce light! so for the example of a sunny environment, the reason the shadows are blue are because of the light from the blue sky reflects across the environment; but, if the character were to be under tree cover, the bounce light would be coming from the leaves and thus the shadow would look greener.
"Aro/Ace person gets given a love potion" story but instead of them being immune or whatever, it DOES work, and they realize IMMEDIATELY that they've been fed a love potion because this feeling is so wrong and foreign but everyone keeps laughing off the idea of it being a love potion because "they were probably just a late bloomer" or "no, you just finally found the right person!" and it's just a horror story about how no one believes them even though they know, they KNOW this isn't right and they can't stand it.
All the people who keep saying “or, consider, they just suddenly really love their family/friends/pets/hobbies/etc!” in the notes 1) are missing the fucking point and 2) owe a loveless aro ten bucks
It's about the feeling of something foreign invading your body and your mind. It's about finding yourself inexplicably obsessed with something that's completely out of character for you. It's about feeling like you've been body snatched and absolutely nobody around you is clocking the imposter. It's about being forced to confront how there isn't anyone around you who would even be worth loving, because if they were then they'd be trying to help you when you say you need help, for no other reason than that you have said it.
Something is wrong something is wrong something is wrong.
You don’t drop your drink on the bar floor, you place it gently on the bar it was served on, as you feel your heart pulse in cut time, while your face flushes and your hands shake. Next to you, a warm smile, a gentle hand, a deep voice asks,
“Are you alright?”
And your heart sings, your pulse leaps, all you can think is I love you, I love you, I love you! and you feel sick with the infatuation of it all. “I’m fine.” is what you eventually say, but it comes out unstable, higher pitched, than you want it too, and in turning away you watch your friends trade glances with one another.
“She’s in love!” One of them, Rachel, says to the other.
“I never thought I’d see the day!” The other, Beth, replies.
Something is wrong! You try to tell them, but you can’t get the words out, as they trade giggles and hushed tones while you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.
----
Inside, you face yourself in the mirror. Water has done nothing to calm the fire in your gut, and the butterflies in your stomach swirl to a stampeding rhythm.
You’ve never been in love before, and you never thought you would be. You love, you have always loved, or sometimes loved, or kinda sorta loved, before. But you’ve never been *in* love; beyond passing curiosity, you’ve never wanted to be. It took a while to be okay with that, and an even longer time to acknowledge it, but this is how you are and regardless of how you, or other people, feel on putting a term to it, it’s how you imagined your future remaining.
Asexual. Aromantic. The bane to love-song propaganda. The constant butt of every joke that cries “This is what it means to be human! To Love! To Love! To Love!”.
Right now, you don’t feel human. This feels wrong, like a violation, like someone reaching into your nerves and burning them with the uncomfortable jolt of electricity, forcing you to jitter and move against any conscious choice. Forcing your blood to rush, and your mind to fill with him, him, Him!
Ants bearing love notes and centipedes scrawling heart-felt confessions skitter and scrape across the undersides of your skin. You would cry, you think, if your mind wasn’t cotton stuffed full of Love.
“There you are!” Rachel says, entering the bathroom to find you, shaking, wiping down your face one last time with water and crumbling brown paper towels.
“Something is Wrong.” You tell her, finally able to think without that man drowning your thoughts, content to be a constant undercurrent for now.
“I’ll say!” She laughs, “Look at you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Joshua back there!” No, no no, she has it wrong. You’re not here to think about Joshua’s soft blue eyes- Stop it! Blue: ice scrapping, chilling you to the bone.
“You don’t get it. This isn’t normal. I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve never felt like this before.” You try to impress. You want to scream. You want to throw up, a little, too, but you can’t tell if that’s you or the Love.
“Twenty-seven is pretty late to get a first crush, sure, but Joshua’s a nice guy, I get it! Not to mention big, strong, and handsome~” She does that thing with her voice. That double entendre waver that you always thought was a little gross, when talking about someone in love.
Why doesn’t she understand- “No, I mean- Don’t you think it’s weird? Isn’t this out of character? I don’t-” You can’t, “But now-” You can’t even say it, “It won’t let go. It won’t stop. I want to be with him, I want him to be with me! I feel weird! This isn’t right!”
“You’re being dramatic... but I guess that makes sense- it’s your first time, after all! Oooh, I can’t believe I got to be there when you fell in love for the first time! This is so romantic, it’s like a fairy tale! No one was right, no one fit, you had resigned yourself to living a Loveless life, until suddenly, He appeared!” She sighs, dreamily. You think you’re going to be sick again.
But still, you stop and think. Stop to partition the little idiot in your brain that keeps designing cursive versions of your name next to Joshua, blossoming with bloodstained hearts in-between. Resigned, that’s how Rachel phrased it. Is that how she saw it, saw you? The bathroom door opens- it’s Beth. She’ll understand.
“You two were having a gossip party without me?” Beth says, but there’s no hurt in her eyes as she gives a sly smile.
“She’s In Love~” Rachel taunts you, incriminating flush branded deep in your flesh burning all the brighter.
“I saw!” Beth squeals, and your stomach drops, hope failing, while your Love soars.
“Beth, you’ll listen to me, won’t you?” You ask, desperate, a last ditch effort “This isn’t normal, this isn’t right- I think maybe someone poisoned my drink-”
“Oh, she just won’t stop.” Rachel cuts you off, rolling her eyes, “She’s convinced, that just because she’s never been in love before, that must mean there’s something wrong.”
“Being in love isn’t wrong!” Beth responds to Rachel, sympathetic gaze turned towards you, reaching out to hold your hands like you’re a child needing comfort, “Sure, you’ve never been in love before, and change can be scary when you’re not ready for it, but shouldn’t you be celebrating? Now you know you were wrong! It is possible for you to love! Isn’t that wonderful?”
You’ve known Beth the longest, you’ve confided in her the most. Every moment of your life had been charted out and experienced with her by your side, your best friend and confidant. She knew you before you had a name for what you were, and she had always acted supportive of your decisions. She was the first person you told, when you discovered your relationship with love.
Beth looked so happy, as she said those words ‘Now you know you were wrong!’
You can’t. You can’t look at them. But you also can’t stay here.
“I’m going home.”
“Already?” Rachel scoffs, arms crossed, looking at you like you’ve said something ridiculous.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” Beth calls out to you, as you shoulder your way past her to leave.
----
No one believes you. You think that’s the worst thing you’ve discovered, about being in Love.
They see how your rash of a blush spreads when you talk about him, how you choke and stammer out praises mixed in with your loathing. They think you’re an idiot, new to your feelings, bumbling about them like a hormonal teenager, Love too big to think clearly. That last one is true, (Love all but suffocates you) but not in a way that you can make people listen.
It’s amazing, how few people truly care, when they think it’s about Love.
You ask for help, but it’s not the kind anyone wants to give.
‘Self Sabotaging’, ‘Repressed’, ‘Denial’, you’ve learned there are a million different ways to tell you that you’re wrong for thinking it’s wrong you’re in Love.
----
It is with vindictive satisfaction that you eventually prove your claims correct. When enough time had passed without you throwing yourself at Joshua like he undoubtedly assumed you would (and you were terribly grateful you were able to prevent), you caught him in the act of poisoning another drink. You had proof, and you took it to the right channels; you were cured and he would never do it again.
You were overjoyed, for a bit, but the victory itself was tainted. You stopped the villain, but the damage had already been done.
How quickly did those close to you turn, and how alienating it was, for no one to believe you. Puppeted by Love, reciting poetry of rotting verses, they mistook sweetness for healing rather than underlying disease. They must have seen the festering spread of Love as something to fill in the cracks of your character, instead of covering what little of you there was left beneath it all.
A gift in disguise, you think bitterly to yourself, as you wash the whole event clean. If your friends and family wanted you to be in Love, they can hold onto that fantasy- you don’t plan on speaking with them again, after all. They can read about what happened to Joshua in the news, and you can find a better group of people to spend your time with.
It is with peace you find yourself, in a life without Love.
“God forgive me for in death I have sinned I have stained holy colors holy ground your holy earth and made others see me and grieve in it. I have made him see me in those colors and I can never take it back forgive me Ozo I never meant to hurt you this way.”
snowghoul
annaxmalina
theartofmadeline
pixelskylines
2087
stormborns
