#Gale is so...Okay. (enamored)

[recitedemise]

Gods help them. It's the early morning, the busiest time in her delightfully caffeinated corner of the world. Students are aplenty, bundles and cohorts of sleep-deprived threes, and despite the macchiatos and the calls for mocha, the world's but narrowed to a singular point. There's nothing, not at all, beyond this morning-sun moment. He looks to her and listens to that heart in her laughter. He hears birdsong, light chatter, and porcelain clangs.

The atmosphere, not to sound thoroughly soppy, of course, rides the line of cotton-floss, sugar, and ballet tulle. She looks to him brightly and at last says yes—then far more still. Infinitely more. "Ha. That's remarkably daring of you," Gale returns, stunned, and by the all the gods above, relieved. "If ever I whisk you away to an evening debating those finer theories of modern evocation, I do hope for your sake that you've this same enthusiasm. For now, however, I'm more than content to woo you in a manner more traditional. Though I don't share the sentiment, I hear that dusty parchment isn't much conducive to romance. We'll save that—" with hope "—for another time."

Another time. Ah. The implication alone can make his heart flutter.

But my word, isn't Ada marvelous. More than, he'd argue. She may think herself simple, all sugar-dusted hands among fruit-dolloped tartlets, but she, as far as Gale's concerned, is impossibly more. He can pluck stars from the heavens! He can set dreams into stone! And majesty, Gale believes, is a realm that he knows of... And majesty, he confesses, is all she commands. Ada may rally every morning to meet him, but she's ought to hear Tara grumbling at his pining. Gale, half-way humbled, can hear her tuts. "I was thinking Fifthday at around seven if that's alright with you. Fear not, I'm amply prepared for all the rioting the following morning. I teach young adults before noon. Let them do their worst." He smiles, and it's as wonderfully cocky as it is dashingly daring. Make no mistake, Ada's charmed him thoroughly... Without his knowing, her staff giggle just a ways. "As it were, far be it from to keep you from sating our caffeine-deprived constituents. I should lend you my hand in tempering them one of these days. I hear my cà phê sữa đá is rather masterful." He's still lingering by the register, and he knows that. "Not to put yours to shame, of course. I see you. The passion, the work you do—it's really quite magical." / @innchanted from here.

[druidrot]

so i was looking at the other parts of the ways to show emotion prompt list and part 3 has some great lists so i was hoping you could do “opening mouth slightly” pupils dilating” and “licking lips” with Gale from the how to show desire prompts 👀👀 no worries if not, congrats on the new blog!

thanks so much! and thanks for being my first requester! i’m happy to oblige. now i’m posting on mobile so i apologize if the formatting is wonky. with that being said, enjoy!

just a short little drabble, unsure of word count

pairing: gale dekarios x reader

rating: mature - more suggestive than anything else;)

he’s allowed to have fun at the tiefling party okay?? just let me have this. i get it’s canon divergent just shut up and let me be horny

It was here Gale felt his resolve crumble.

He prides himself on his self-control. In fact, he thinks he’s been a saint since he joined your adventuring party, since this painfully slow dance started between you both.

But he feels his patience waring thin. The tiefling party at the camp has no doubt been a success. He waited patiently as you did your rounds accepting their gifts and thanks so very graciously. He bid his time as you danced and sung and drank with everybody else, working your sweet charm on them.

He knows better, though. He thinks you are a different person under the cover of moonlight, here where you stare up at him with half-lidded, glassy eyes, lips pulled up in the sweetest little smile. You still hold your chalice of wine but your free hand has taken to his, twirling your fingers around his long, narrow digits. He feels his mouth drop open as you take a step closer, your pupils dilating until the beautiful color of your iris is all but hidden.

Around you, the little celebration rages on. In the distance, you can hear Karlach whooping over some drinking game the rowdier of the bunch had taken to playing. Just down the camp from you, Alfira sings a lovely ballad of lover’s lost, Lakrissa bobbing her head from a few paces down.

Gale should be excited about the festivities, elated with the things your party accomplished, ready to drink his troubles away for the night. Instead, he finds himself totally enamored with you., eyes locked on your every movement. He doesn’t know when you became so intoxicating to him, but in this moment, he finds he can’t complain.

“You look like the tressym got your tongue,” you whisper, sidling even closer. “My my, have you been brooding here because I’ve not paid you any attention? Or is saving poor helpless refugees not really your speed?”

You bump your nose against his as your tongue wets your lips. His eyes are immediately drawn to the action and he has to physically fight the urge to rush forward and kiss you. Instead, he grins roguishly at you.

“Quite the rotten little minx, you are,” he teases. taking a step back to cool his body. “Go enjoy yourself, darling. Besides, I’m sure there’s quite the line to get a dance with you tonight. You’ll have plenty of time to harass me later.”

“What if I want to harass you right now? What if I want to spend all night harassing you?”

Gale feels like he’s on fire. Before either of you can really process, he pulls you into a slow, heady kiss.

“You will be the death of me,” he pants between desperate kisses. “You will be the death of us all.”

He is quick to escalate, despite his warning and his lips grow frenetic as he chases your tongue with his, pushing into your mouth with a sense of urgency you didn’t think him capable of. He pulls your body close, impossibly so, and you can do nothing but moan as he continues to kiss you.

“The orb,” Gale tries, whimpering between consuming kisses.

“Don’t blow up on me,” is your only retort, happily losing yourself to the weight of his kiss.

[kingofspadescos]

Astarion Brainrot

You ever become so enamored by a character that the actual movie, book, or game their apart of doesn't interest you, you're simply just awestruck by a character?

Same.

Not that BG3 doesn't interest me in itself, but I only want to play it for the interactions (and the fact you can create a non-binary mc)

Anyways- point is my thoughts have been consumed by the vampire and needless to say this hyperfixation seems like it will be staying around for a while, so here's a little thing I thought of.

Imagine Astarian falling in love with an asexual Tav.

He's constatly trying to seduce them, whispering in their ear, touching them, using all the tactics he knows, but nothing works. They just reject his touch- but that doesn't confuse him. What gets him in such a twist is even though you shy away from his advances you always hang around him, always rant to him about your interests and it's driving him fucking wild.

Then one day while the group is gathered around the campfire for a game of would you rather, and someone asks you "Would you rather bed Astarian or Gale?" And you responded with "Neither, the thought of sex actually makes me want to cry, but I'd much rather just kiss Astarian", said vampire is almsot positive his non-existant heart stopped beating again.

~~ Okay okay that's it!

[satinsnakesworld]

Gale Dekarios Head Canons

Okay.... Here goes it, here is my debut to writing with some SFW Gale head cannons. I made it gender neutral for my first one, just some domestic good ol' fluff for you all. So here it is :D

(I used Tav instead of Y/n In one instance, feel free to interpret however you'd like.)

Gale D. x GN! Tav/Reader

✧˖° SFW Head Canons ✧˖°

This man adores you. The way you listen to him, support him, encourage him, everything. He is enamored with you and all you do for him.

In return, he tries his best to dote on you. Hungry? He had some snacks in his pack with your name on it. A long day of traveling has you utterly sore? He is willing to give you a massage and rub out all the knots from the day. To the point, if you ask for something, he will more than happily oblige to help you in whatever way he can.

Gale often finds things along the way to give to you along your journey together. A ring, a flower, a sword or staff, something that reminds him of you. When he gets the chance, he will get something from a trader/merchant and surprise you at the end of the day, especially if there is a battle. The wizard is sure to tell you how relieved he is that the two of you made it another day together.

Back in Waterdeep, he is ecstatic to have you there with him, he shows you everything, his books, his kitchen, granted you saw some of the tower in the illusion you two shared in the shadowlands. Gale is just mostly grateful that this is all real and tangible in front of him. He still has not believed the course of everything within the past year and his changed fate.

As a Professor at Blackstaff, he is usually the first up to get ready. Gale tries not to wake you up in the mornings, you just seem so at peace to him. He will occasionally leave you flowers and a cup of tea in the morning on your bedside table. Ready for you when you wake up.

When he gets home after his teachings, he will go on about his day with you as he cooks dinner for the two of you—smiling happily at him as you sit on the barstool behind the adjacent counter. Once dinner is ready, you'd set the table for each other on the balcony. Gale would come from behind you, place your plates down, and engulf you in a hug from behind. He would softly kiss your cheek saying “Dinner is ready my beloved, Tav Dekarios…”

Hope you all enjoy! Hopefully more to come in the future! Feel free to give me some feedback and any suggestions as to what youd like to see in the future! :D

[an-excellent-choice]

I have this headcanon/AU in my head where My Tav(Aoide) is only attracted to their lover when they get a lover. So, when she gets with Gale all attraction to other people disappears.

The problem with that is when any version of Gale that appears before her, she is very much still feral for that version of Gale since it is Gale.

At first Gale was worried about Tav liking him to be different version but he realizes no she's just really really attracted to Gale. Which flatters Gale's ego very much that any version of him rizzes up his wife and it works.

So, simlacrum in the bedroom is normal thing for them.

But then due to circumstances, Aoide meets the younger version of Gale. Still Mystra's chosen, no beard, very much in the peak of his magical ability and insufferable.

Aoide found him annoying and couldn't stand him but of course in the end she ends up sleeping with him.

When Gale finally rescues Aoide from this timeline. He takes one look at Aoide and laughs his head off.

This is disclaimer that in this AU Gale is okay with Aoide sleeping with different versions of him since it is him and somehow she becomes more enamored with him everytime.

Think of it like Gale seeing Aoide falling in love with different sides of him. The man loves the idea of the loving each other in a thousand nights, kisses and ways etc. You can't tell me he won't be flattered that Tav would fall in love with thousand versions of him

[kafus]

"video games rumors" anon here, the type of rumor I'm curious about your opinion on are the kinds of rumors you'd hear in a playground; i.e. something like "If you groundpound the fountain star 2401 times you can unlock Luigi in super mario 64!" or "If you do all of these super convoluted steps in pokemon you can get mewthree!" etc etc, if that's too broad then maybe just playground rumors specific to pokemon.

My original ask was spurred by a video by midnight krick, covering a pokemon iceberg from an alternate universe where the last pokemon games were gold and silver. Do be warned though that the video heads into creepypasta territory, especially near the end.

OHHH okay yes i get you now! sorry maybe that was obvious before but i felt like there were multiple directions that ask could have gone lmao

i am old enough to have experienced a good chunk of video game rumors firsthand, though not to the extent of proper 90s kids - i kinda got the tail end of it i think? and most of the rumors i heard were strongly proliferated through the internet, like the experience of seeing one of those fake Mewthree videos during pokemon gen 3 on really early youtube when i was too young to understand how those videos were made and couldn't tell the difference between romhacks and reality yknow. while i heard about rumors outside of pokemon (i was fascinated by some animal crossing ones back in the day because i had a brief stint with wild world for instance) i have to admit i've been This Autistic about pokemon since i was little and most of them... were pokemon rumors lol

eventually around age 9 i found out that most of the rumors i had seen floating around were edited images or romhack videos and i actually got into really early romhacking at that age... and made my own fake pokemon rumor video and uploaded it to youtube and everything, but i felt so guilty immediately after uploading it that i took it down. which i regret now because i genuinely think it may have gotten a couple people to fall for it. here's a reupload of it, i rescued it from my mom's ancient PC:

i'm kind of enamored with this thing i made because even at the age of 9 i tried to make it thinly believable and intriguing - lugia was only available in gen 3 through events or xd gale of darkness, so it was a pokemon people would want but couldn't find, however not a mythical or a made up fakemon. the three kanto birds being a requirement ties into the 2nd movie, but since they're in kanto and not hoenn it becomes infinitely harder to test and disprove this, not just because of the level requirement but because of the need to trade them over. i was really thinking about it i guess lmao. of course the audio glitch making the cave and lugia battle silent hurts the believability.

unfortunately there's no "unregistered hypercam 2" in the corner cause i used some other software... i think it was called camstudio? idk i might be wrong and i'm too lazy to look it up rn. anyway sorry for going on about that so long this ask just made me think of it and i wanted to talk about it lol

@ the second bit of your message, i have not seen that video in my suggestions and now i'm probably gonna watch it later, ty! i appreciate the warning but let it be known that i love pokemon creepypastas, i met my qpp and my closest friends through pokepastas, a certain pokepasta character when searched on google has like three pieces of my art near the top lmao - point is i'm REALLY desensitized and instead of being offput that actually makes me want to watch it more, i unironically love that shit to this day

[quinn-of-aebradore]

Okay okay okay so. The deal with Rowen and Gale. I have. Words.

What it boils down to is that they met when they were both far too early into their own healing for any feelings to develop painlessly. Rowen was still a basically open wound of poor self-worth and inferiority. Gale was still enamored with Mystra, still so in love, and couldn’t yet see how fucked up that relationship was.

And the thing is there is no them meeting later in their journeys. They needed each other to heal. Gale needed Rowen, a fellow wizard who to him should’ve been just as taken with Mystra as him, to look him in the eyes and say “she is using you” and “you deserve better then her. you deserve to live.” Rowen needed Gale to look at her and see not the scrappy street mage she’s always felt like and been seen as, but as the talented and powerful woman she is.

It just so happens that they fell a little in love with each other at the wrong point in time. That Rowen felt comfortable enough to let a little of that show and then two nights later Gale said “so, me and Mystra…” and knew no other response than to pull away in fear of being not good enough. And that by the time things might’ve worked out for them, Rowen had fallen for Astarion and he had fallen for her.

Rowen/Gale are the epitome of “honest feelings, wrong time” and I’m forever in my feelings about them.

[nav-iiee]

BIGBOYS SONG 2

Hey hey hey! sorry for the rather long notice. I was really really busy these past few weeks so i wasn't able to work on big boys that much. but here's song 2! ik nobody asking for these but i'm just sharing them for the sake of the art.

BigBoys: Song #2 “Is this right enough? / Take your shot!”

IN. ERI’S HOUSE

GALE:

“I’ve also been eyeing you for quite a while Bea… You have enamored me quite a bit”

BEA (VO):

“OH #%@&... Is this what they were talking about? Is this where I can truly become a proper woman?”

NARRATOR:

“A quick recap… Bea has entered this band as a bassist. Little does she know, this band is hiding a secret! Turns out one of the members, Gale Blanco has the power to turn into a Golden Fighter! I also do not know what that is… Bea also has a crush on this dude and… what's this? He shares the same feelings as her?!?!”

BEA: “I mean, I’ve liked you ever since we started our introductions like 2 months ago…”

GALE:

“I’ve liked you since we first talked, when you were trying to get into this band.”

BEA (VO): “Should I shoot my shot now? Should I do the first move? SHOULD I-”

GALE: “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

BEA: “Uh…”

IN. SHABBY RESTAURANT

Rapid cut to restaurant

GALE: “Sorry I couldn’t take you somewhere fancy…”

BEA:

“Oh no it’s okay… I much prefer it like this.”

BEA (VO):

“In the end, he was the one who took the shot…”

GALE: “So… Let’s try to have a little small talk… Do you have any questions about me? I’ll also ask you some questions about you.”

BEA:

“Umm… Let’s see… What was that belt thing that came out of your pocket and strapped around your waist?”

GALE:

“And here I was thinking about how my day was… It’s the Teller Machine Driver. It takes a unique credit card that only my dad’s company can produce. It’s an expensive monster to feed, each fight could cost around $500,000 if I’m not careful…”

BEA (VO):

“He’s so dreamy!”

NARRATOR:

“Bea? Bea? Are you even listening?”

GALE:

“So, that’s my end. Time to ask you some questions… Have you always lived alone?”

BEA:

“Yes…”

GALE: “Have you dated anyone?”

BEA:

“One dude, back in high school. Honestly that’s the only memory I have of my high school days.”

GALE:

“How did he leave you?”

BEA:

“He said he wasn’t ready and said I deserve better, so he left on his own accord”

GALE:

“Damn… that’s odd. Okay, next question… Do you prefer flowers as gifts or chocolates?”

BEA: “I’m vegan, but I also don’t like flowers as gifts…”

GALE: “Vegan chocolate exists…”

BEA:

“Really?”

GALE:

“Chocolates are naturally vegan… Except for milk chocolate but that can also be replaced with vegan options…”

BEA:

“Ah! You learn something everyday…”

GALE:

“Okay, okay, last question. Has anyone ever told you you’re pretty?”

BEA: “Not yet…”

GALE: “You’re pretty.”

BEA (VO):

“DUDE… THAT’S SMOOTH!!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!”

GALE:

“You are a very pretty woman.”

WAITER:

“Hello, sorry to bother the both of you but your food is ready.”

GALE:

“Oh! Well, go ahead and serve them, oh kind sir.”

BEA (VO): “He’s kind too… He’s totally my type! I’m so glad right now…”

They eat their dinner

BEA: “Say Gale, I have one more question.”

GALE:

“Go ahead.”

BEA: “Who was that Natalie girl?”

GALE:

“Natalie Gridman. I used to date her 7 months ago, but it ended pretty quickly. Her powers were also cool. BUt not as cool as you, Bea.”

BEA:

“That’s interesting”

BEA (VO): “He hangs around dangerous women… I wonder if I’ll turn up like them…”

MIND SEQUENCE:

*shows Bea walking on dead bodies with lasers coming out of her eyes.”

BEA (VO): “Probably not…”

GALE:

“She's not as pretty as you though, or as cool, or as kind, or as cute…”

BEA:

“Thanks Gale… I think you're cool too!”

They finish their dinner and Gale brings her to her apartment complex.

GALE: “Hey listen, I know we’re not doing anymore questions but I got one more.”

BEA:

“Alright! Ask away.”

GALE: “What’s your apartment number?”

BEA: “71.”

GALE:

“71… Alright! Now I know where you live. Thanks for the time Bea! See you next band practice…”

Car drives away

BEA: “Bye… Gale…”

She enters her apartment

BEA:

“The next practice is in-”

Sudden cut to Eri’s house

IN. ERI’S HOUSE

ERI:

“REMY! Have you not washed our dishes yet?”

REMY: “Sorry Eri, I’ll go do them now…”

BEA:

“You guys live together?”

ERI:

“Remy’s currently looking for an apartment to live in, he’s got the money, the job, and the will to live by himself. I can kind of tell he’s sick of living together with me.”

REMY:

“Yes I am.”

ERI:

“Anyways, Gale, have you finished that song we’ve been working on?”

BEA: “That song we performed a few days ago wasn’t new?”

ERI:

“Yeah! It has existed for like 3 months now.”

GALE: “It’s almost there, it’ll be stage ready in no time.”

REMY: “Speaking of stage, you sure those 5 OF HEARTS freaks won’t appear again?”

GALE:

“No they probably will, so I’m also bringing this with me.”

REMY:

“You always bring that with you at all times.”

GALE:

“Haha… yeah.”

REMY:

“Bea, can you come here for a quick second?”

ERI:

“Are you asking for help with those dishes?”

REMY: “Hell no!”

Bea approaches Remy

REMY: “How are you feeling with the band so far?”

BEA: “I feel super welcomed!”

REMY:

“Great… I just wanted to make sure since the last bassist that entered here left on his own since he didn’t feel like he belonged here. He was super mad at me for some reason.”

ERI:

“Is this about the last bassist?”

REMY: “AAAH!!! Eri! Don’t just sneak up on people like that!”

ERI: “See our little Remy here, he was kind of a dick back then. He did not listen to any directions coming from me or Gale. He deliberately played off beat in some performances. And he specifically had some troubles with the last bassist.”

REMY:

“That… kind of happened yea… But the ‘playing deliberately offbeat’? Not true!”

ERI:

“Oh really? But still, it wasn’t for ‘some reason’, I hope you understand that Remy…”

BEA (VO):

“Remy seems like he’s changed though, he seems a lot more timid, calm, and funny.”

GALE:

“I hope I didn’t miss any important story beats.”

ERI:

“We were just talking about the last bassist.”

GALE:

“Ahhh… Well, that one.”

BEA (VO): “Is he hiding something?”

GALE: “Welp, I think the song is near its completion. This will have some words from my mother tongue, Tagalog. Are you guys okay with that?”

BEA:

“I’d love that! My family's actually partly Filipino!”

REMY:

“Really?”

BEA: “Yea!”

NARRATOR:

“Her family has no Filipino blood, she was born in Michigan.”

GALE:

“Sorry this band practice wasn’t much of anything guys… I just wanted to discuss the song and our next performance…”

ERI:

“Isn’t that next month?”

REMY:

“Better to discuss now than later, I wouldn’t want it to sound like #&!@.”

ERI:

“You do have a point, Remy.”

BEA:

“Hehe, nice seeing you take things a bit more seriously Remy.”

REMY:

“Thanks Bea, I just want to have fun in this band y’know…”

GALE:

“stares at Remy weirdly… Yeah, it’s cool you’re doing that Remy.”

BEA (VO):

“He’s been looking at Remy weirdly… Is anything alright with him?”

Bea and Gale both leave Eri’s house later on. They both enter Gale’s car

IN. GALE’S CAR

BEA:

“Hey Gale, is anything bothering you?”

GALE: “With what?”

BEA:

“Maybe with the band? Or with Remy?”

GALE: “What? Me? Having beef with Remy? No… I’ve known the dude since college, we are basically great friends. Also, I’m fine Bea, thanks for worrying about me.”

BEA:

“Glad to hear it Gale…”

BEA (VO):

“I’ve finally gotten what I’ve been wanting for a while. If there truly is some god up there on down here, I thank you.”

NARRATOR: “I personally think this relationship is smooth sailing! Seeing the entire band happy with each other now truly makes my heart soothe. Next up on Song #3, they finally get to perform their song… Will there be a roadblock waiting for them in the end? Tune in next week to find out!”

They pass by her apartment

BEA:

“Wait, Gale, that was my apartment…”

GALE:

“I know, I’m taking you somewhere else.”

NARRATOR: “The Song’s not done yet? What are they up to…”

BEA (VO):

“HOLY $*&@!!! Is he taking me to his home? Or maybe somewhere else? Like a hotel or something? OH MY GOD”

IN. GALE’S HOME

They end up in his home, rather far away from her apartment

GALE:

“This is where I live… Do you want some coffee? Maybe some tea?”

BEA:

“Ah sure… Just add some cream please.”

Gale hands her the coffee he prepared for her. They both have a chat over some coffee.

BEA:

“Wow… This is a pretty big house…”

GALE:

“This is the smallest my dad could provide me haha…”

BEA (VO):

looks back “I WISH I HAD RICH PARENTS…”

BEA:

“Ah… ahem… why’d you bring me here?”

GALE: “I dunno, I just wanted to talk to you a lot more… And look at your pretty face a lot more… Just the two of us…”

BEA: “I mean it has been just a week since we’ve gone dating…”

GALE:

“You underestimate the human capability of forming a bond…”

BEA:

“Heh, I did not understand a single word you just said.”

GALE:

“What I meant was…”

Gale puts down his mug

GALE:

“We should solidify our relationship a bit more.”

BEA (VO):

“OKAY UMM… WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? ARE WE DOING IT OR NOT? I’VE BEEN EXPECTING IT BUT THIS FAST?”

NARRATOR:

“BEA! You can’t swear in this script. Oh wait, she can’t hear me.”

Gale approaches Bea, he starts to get closer, and closer, until their eyes finally lock on to each other.

BEA:

“Go ahead.”

GALE:

“Huh?”

BEA:

“Go ahead, Gale.”

GALE:

“Alright then.”

A soft yet masculine scent fills the room. Gale leans in for a kiss. cue this song https://www.bandlab.com/post/4ae4b5b6-ff6c-ef11-bdfd-000d3a980db3

BEA (VO):

“His lips are soft. His arms are caring, yet tough. This is what I’ve been yearning for…”

they make out lol we had to cut out a significant amount of this cuz if we allow all this, we’d bump our age rating – writing staff

IN. GALE’S BEDROOM

Bea wakes up in the middle of the night to see Gale dressing up

GALE:

“You should stay here for a bit… It’s horribly cold outside.”

BEA: “Mmm”

GALE:

“Hehe, you are cute. Like, horribly cute.”

BEA:

“Hehe, mmm”

BEA (VO):

“We just made out, it felt, it felt, like something.”

NARRATOR:

“Okay, I think the Song’s finally over. That was WAY overdue and uncomfortable… AHEM, as I said, Next up on Song #3, they finally get to perform their song… Will there be a roadblock waiting for them in the end? Tune in next week to find out!”

OUT. BEA’S APARTMENT, MORNING

NARRATOR:

“IT’S STILL NOT OVER???”

GALE:

“See you next time okay”

BEA:

“Okay Gale, Thanks for having me!”

BEA (VO):

“We actually made out, we’re an actual couple now… That’s hard to believe but our bond is as solid as it could be.”

Bea approaches her room

BEA:

“Huh? Why won’t the door unlock?”

She’s scrambling her bag to look for her phone. She then calls her landlord.

BEA:

“Hello? HUH?! I’VE BEEN KICKED OUT?!?”

NARRATOR:

“Our first roadblock has hit our beloved Bea.” 

SONG #2 END

CREATOR NOTES:

That's all I wrote! Very "mellow" song over all... I don't think this Gale dude is a great dude at all.

With the whole "Bea as a dude" thing, it could work out, but I'd want her to be more of a person who does not know how to be a person, being fully taken advantage of by a lot of people she talks to.

[avonne-writes]

Okay, the entire fic came to me just now like a vision:

Gale is primarily a painter who prefers landscapes but has to get through this mandatory figure painting class

Bucky is broke and his friend, Curt, hooks him up with a modelling gig at the Fine Arts department

He doesn’t know it's nude modelling until the day of the class, but wth, he’s not shy so he rolls with it

Except. He didn't expect that there would be a super cute blond guy in the class who keeps glancing at Bucky's face instead of his... other features... which may become more impressive soon if he keeps doing that

Gale is pretty sure he’s gonna fail this class because he’s too flustered to even look at that model's lower half

Alex, who's Gale's best friend and is also in the class, thinks he could use some extra help and asks Bucky after the class if he’d be down for extra (clothed) modelling to help with the final project work

Gale wants to kill him when he comes back with Bucky's number and says he got it for Gale

Gale does need the extra practice though, so after a lot of hesitation, he texts Bucky

Bucky says they should discuss the details over some coffee

They hit it off. Bucky needs money but he’s so enamored he tells Gale he’ll do it in exchange for a painting

They keep meeting up for sessions at Gale's place, but soon enough, these sessions expand from a couple of hours to full weekends when Bucky sleeps on a pull-out couch

At one point, they go to an art museum together

Just before their first kiss, Bucky teases Gale about the paint on his fingers

They fall in love as gently as the colours bleed into each other in one of Gale's paintings

There’s angst too because Gale has a messed-up past and Bucky is broke for a reason

But they figure it out.

Gale doesn’t submit a painting of Bucky in the end, because he refuses to let anyone judge how he sees him. He submits one of someone less precious to him

He gifts Bucky a painting of a place special to them and asks him to move in with him

New concept: art student Gale and nude model Bucky 🎨❤️‍🔥

[addictofanimation]

Okay I have another au lmao

The abyss order traps Xiao and reverts him back into a child (about Klees age).Diluc goes clearing out a domain in Stone Gate and finds him trapped inside a sheild the abyss mages trapped him in,the moment the sheild breaks he bolts,Diluc’s heart shatters when he sees how scared and malnourished Xiao is,and tries approaching him,only to get blasted by gale-force winds to the face,eventually Diluc convinces him to calm down,and carries him back to Dawn Winery.The next day he asks about his name and family,he gets his name but Xiao can’t remember his family that well,he says his father had a geo vision,and that he had similar eyes and hair,and that’s all he knows,Diluc leaves him in Adlines care,knowing if she could deal with him as a child,she could probably take care of anyone,about a week later he’s consulted all of his contacts,and he barley has any leads about this mystery child,but atleast no one knows about him,until one day he gets loose from Adeline and runs straight to Mondstad,looking for Diluc,with Adeline in close pursuit,unfortunately Adeline isn’t as fast as a very determined adeptus and Xiao reaches the gates before her,Running straight into Diluc,Kayea,and Rosaria,Xiao jumps at Diluc and hugs him tightly,Diluc,shaken and confused,hugs him back,once Xiao finally releases Diluc,Kayea gets down on one knee and introduces himself to Xiao as the calvary captain of Mond,before glancing up at Diluc with a face that meant he had some explaining to do,and quickly looking back at Xiao,He asks him the same questions Diluc did,and gets the same awnsers,Kayea offers to escort him around Mond,and unfortunately for Diluc,the enamored child readily accepts,Xiao seems to get along well with everyone in Mondstad,making fast freinds with everyone he encounters,and making a especially strong bond with Klee,so strong he didn’t want to leave the Headquarters,much to Diluc’s chagrin,the sun starts to set a little while later,and Xiao is already fast asleep,Kayea finally confronts his brother about the mystery kid,and Diluc tells him everything he knows,Kayea was the only contact of his he didn’t tell,out of fear for...something,so telling him felt like a weight off his chest,he prayed that his brother knew something about this.Diluc can’t have nice things though,because Kayea doesn’t know anything either,but what he does get,is a promise,Kayea promises to help him protect Xiao,Diluc feels relieved that someone else will help him,and feels the happiest he’s felt in a long while,maybe everything will be okay,for once.

That is so cute! I'd love to see a story about that!

[aloysiavirgata]

In The Gale

Title: In The Gale

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: PG

Category: MSR

Author's Notes: For @perplexistan, who asked and helped me make it better. This is shortly after settling into the Unremarkable House. I tried making sense of their legal status, but it’s simply impossible and I gave up.

Our heroes quote from Melville, Shakespeare, Sagan, Baudrillard, and (Emily) Dickens.

***

Because I know that time is always time And place is always and only place And what is actual is actual only for one time And only for one place I rejoice that things are as they are and I renounce the blessed face And renounce the voice Because I cannot hope to turn again Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us And pray that I may forget These matters that with myself I too much discuss Too much explain Because I do not hope to turn again Let these words answer For what is done, not to be done again May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly But merely vans to beat the air The air which is now thoroughly small and dry Smaller and dryer than the will Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

T.S. Eliot, Ash Wednesday

***

She recites The Raven to herself on the drive in, lists all the state capitals in alphabetical order, and goes through the periodic table. Her body fizzes like a shaken soda, tiny anxious bubbles rising through her blood. They’ve done so much for this, called in so many favors. Mulder put his book on hold for a month, quizzing her with dog-eared notecards. 

“Immediate treatment of myocardial infarction,” he’d call, and she’d say “MONA TASS.”

She feels a pang for the simplicity of the other life, the hiding one, where she just had to ring up cigarettes and herbal Viagra at gas stations.

***

She’s the new girl at the cafeteria table, awkward and alone. Mulder had prepared her a lunch like it’s the first day of school, and she stares at it, wishing for an appetite.

From the corner of her eye she sees two colleagues - an MRI tech and an obstetrician, she thinks - talking softly and glancing over. Scully thinks she hears “FBI,” and she looks up and smiles, uncertain.

They blink at her, look away.

***

Ybarra comes around the corner, gliding in his cassock like a disapproving ghost. “Dr. Scully,” he says, in his pinched voice.

She smiles thinly. “Father Ybarra.”

“Nurse Mossing was looking for the chart for Mrs. Sullivan. Imagine my surprise when I found it in Room 314 instead of Room 413. That’s a potential HIPAA violation, Dr. Scully. That’s a federal law.”

Scully curls her hand so that her nails dig into her skin. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “Father Ybarra, please forg-”

He holds up his palm. “It won’t happen again,” he says, and glides onward.

Scully closes her eyes and leans against the wall. She breathes through her nose until the ringing in her ears stops.

***

She wants to collapse into his arms and cry when she gets home, but that would be giving in. It would be letting them down.

“How’d it go?” he asks. He’s wearing basketball shorts and a Knicks shirt, a five o’clock shadow.

She smiles brightly. “It was good. Learning curve, but good. I think Father Ybarra might be a tough nut to crack, is all.”

Mulder rubs his cowlicked hair. “Put your feet up, Scully, since you won’t wear sensible shoes.”

She does, and accepts the glass of wine he holds out. “Thanks. I’ll sleep well tonight, anyway. There are miles of hallways.”

He sits next to her on the couch. “I wrote a few pages,” he says. “I deleted a bunch, but I think there was a multi-paragraph net gain.”

“I’m glad you’re able to stop focusing on my stuff now,” she says. “Both back in the saddle.”

“Go team.”

She clinks her glass against his. She drinks her wine too fast.

***

Ybarra had come in during her rounds that morning and startled her into knocking a metal bedpan onto the floor. Scully thinks the reverberations of that sound will follow her to the grave.

She’s now in the chapel, tucked into a back pew. She’s been staring at the small altar, at the stained glass windows flanking the crucifix. The Blessed Virgin smiles beatifically down at her, a wretched sinner.

Scully laces her fingers on the back of the pew in front of her and bows her head against them. “Please,” she whispers. “Please.”

***

Mulder wakes her with tea and eggs. “You haven’t been eating,” he says, brow furrowed. 

She rubs her eyes, yawning. “What?”

He sits next to her on the bed, sets the plate and mug on her night table. “You just push your food around your plate, you hardly talk when you get home. What’s going on, Scully?”

She sits up, looking at his worried face. He’s sun-browned and tousled, beautiful, with a mouth that still makes her weak in the knees. “Nothing. It’s just a lot to jump back into.”

“I’m sure it is. And I still want to help you with it.” He pulls the flash cards from his pocket, touches her wrist with his other hand. “Let’s see - causes of upper zone pulmonary fibrosis?”

She looks at the ceiling, back at him. “I don’t need help.”

Mulder blinks, stung. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. You just don’t need to hover over me. You have your own things to work on. Work on your book, patch up your henhouse. ” Her voice sounds snappish to her own ears.

His changeable eyes, now mossy green, darken. He chews his bottom lip, nodding slowly. “I thought you were one of my ‘things.’ Sorry to bother you.” He rises, walks downstairs.

“Mulder,” she whispers.

The tea goes down fine. Scully tries to eat the eggs but feels bile rise in her throat. She flushes them down the toilet instead of leaving them behind, because that is love.

***

She arrives at the nurses’ station on the second floor with three dozen donuts and two cardboard boxes of coffee. She deposits them on the desk. “Good morning, Annabel,” she says.

“Anneliese,” the woman says.

Scully nods, walks away.

*** 

He slides his hand up her pajama top, tracing circles on her ribs, sliding his fingers around to her breasts. He kisses the back of her neck. “Scully,” he whispers, his breath warm and ticklish in her ear.

She wants to pretend to wake up, to turn towards him and lose herself in his body. She wants to tell him everything, to be held and loved and petted and reassured. She wants him to remind her that she once stared down Congress, that some backwater priest and his prickly staff should be a joke to her. She wants them to laugh together at these silly, petty people.

But she can’t, she can’t disappoint him. He’s been so proud of her.

Scully stays still, breathes evenly until his hands move away and she’s alone again.

***

Her car rattles over the driveway, through shimmering waves of heat that rise from the crisping grass. It is the kind of late July afternoon where the sun is a hazy white ball in the west, and clouds of gnats are a permanent feature of the landscape. 

Scully parks, avoiding a puddle in which a peacock is standing. Mulder has recently become enamored of yard fowl. She narrows her eyes at it while opening the car door. 

“Good boy, Kevin,” she calls to it, wary.

Scully picks her way over the gravel in her thin heels. The peacock mews an alarm as she approaches, but doesn’t charge. She lets herself inside, shuts the heat and sun and wildlife outside. The house smells of coffee and microwave popcorn.

She walks into Mulder’s office and finds him hunched at his desk, typing. “Hey,” she says, and drops a kiss on his head. There’s a sketch of Baphomet taped to his monitor, her worn flash cards atop a tome about Raëlism.

He turns in his chair. He puts his arms around her hips. “Hey.” 

“Kevin behaved himself,” she offers.

“You two will be friends yet, you’ll see.”

She peers at the computer. “You get a lot done today?”

Mulder shrugs. “Eh, a bit. Waiting on a few emails, and I had to run that tubing to drain the sump down into the woods. Ate up most of the afternoon.”

Scully shakes her head in admiration. “I don’t know how you manage all the multitasking.”

“Well, the book helps me avoid the house, and the house helps me avoid the book. It’s a perfect system. That Ybarra guy still riding your ass?”

She chews her lip. “No,” she lies. “I think we’re okay now.”

“Good,” he says. “I’d hate to have to beat up a priest.”

***

Scully gazes at herself in the empty locker room. She looks thin and tired, and her hair is frizzing up, even pulled back like this. All her makeup has sweated off except for smudged crescents of mascara. Her bra is the color of a Band-Aid, her underwear white and sensible. Between the two is the hard white rose of her gunshot scar, like a second navel, an artifact of a second birth. It is numb when she touches it, indifferent. There are no stretch marks from William, a tale missing from the anthology of her skin. She unhooks her bra, lets it slide down to the damp floor. Scully turns to observe her body in profile. The scar is gone this way, the tattoo hidden as well, and she smooths her hands along her ribs. Her breasts seem out of place to her when they are unbound, frivolous somehow. Vestigial. 

She looks away.

***

The hospital is labyrinthine, having been constructed of various additions when funds allowed. There are dead ends, pointless staircases, and a mysterious storage closet filled with old televisions. She makes little maps on notepaper. 

“So where did you work before this?” an orthopedic surgeon asks her.

A diner in Wyoming. 

“I was out West for a while,” she says.

***

A week in, and Mulder has made a cake to celebrate. A bouquet of Kevin’s shed tail feathers ornaments the table.

An offering, Mulder calls it, tickling her chin with one.

A week down, she thinks, and blows out the candle. She wonders when she’ll stop counting the time.

***

Shy, he gives her a chapter to read. It’s good, and she tells him so. It’s very good. She hears his voice in her head when she reads it, his passion. She loves the esoterica tucked into his gyri and sulci.

“Your prose was never this clear in your reports,�� she remarks. 

“Hey if you can’t blind them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.”

Scully laughs. “You want to read a few medical reports?”

He looks at her, suddenly serious. “Yeah,” he says. “I would. It would be nice to hear about your day for once.”

She wonders if love is the weapon that lets them wound so casually.

***

“You’re late,” Ybarra says softly. 

She doesn’t explain that she’d somehow ended up at the TV closet again, that the room numbering system in this hospital had been designed by nihilists, that the nursing student had Dermabonded her glove to a patient’s forehead.

She lowers her eyes like she did at Catholic school. She promises to do better.

***

“What’s going on?” Mulder asks her for what feels like the hundredth time. “Talk to me, Scully.”

She presses her hands to her face for a moment, drops them to her sides. “Nothing,” she says again, frustrating them both. “I’m tired. It’s a hard schedule.”

He places a throw pillow on his lap and pats it. “Come here,” he says. “Please.”

She acquiesces, curling on her side with her back to him. He runs his fingers through her hair, traces the Fibonacci spirals of her ear. She wants to relax, to melt into his touch. She indulges in a Mulderesque conspiracy theory that the hospital microdoses the water with tetanus toxin to keep everyone rigid and tense.

Scully gazes at the windows, at the hard white light of summer streaming in. The curtains are blue with an arabesque pattern, and they looked very chic in the store. She wonders now if they seem desperate in this odd little house. She thinks of Meg March, dressed up in borrowed finery at the Moffats’ ball.

***

Scully clomps up the steps to the porch and kicks her rain boots off next to the umbrella stand. It contains four umbrellas and a gnarled hickory limb that Mulder claims is going to be polished into a fine walking stick one of these days. She goes into the house and is dismayed to find it stale and stifling and dark. Dust motes waft in Brownian motion through shafts of sunlight, undirected by fans or air conditioning. 

“Mulder,” she calls, and there is silence.

She twists her hair into a bun as she pads upstairs, old wood satiny under her bare feet. She pushes open the bedroom door, and the air is hot and still. 

“Mulder?” She needs his help with her zipper, but there is no reply.

She wrestles herself out of her silk sheath, sticky and irritating, and lets it puddle on the floor. Her bra follows. She feels guilty, as Mulder has turned out to be a surprisingly diligent housekeeper. His office is filled with perilous stacks of home improvement books and arcane journals about lake monsters, the walls papered with clippings and blurry photographs, but he seems able to quarantine his own entropy.

She is trying to do the same.

Scully pulls on soft cotton pajama shorts, a gray tank top imbued with the compressive powers of Lycra. She uses lotion to rub away the mascara beneath her eyes. She goes downstairs and out the back door, shielding her eyes against the piercing sunlight. A mosquito whines at her ear and she pinches it out of the air.

“Still got those reflexes, kid,” Mulder says from somewhere off to her left. 

She turns and sees him crouched next to the hulking green block of the transformer. “All the lights are off, and the house feels like a rainforest. I take it you’ve had an eventful day?”

He sighs. “Not really. Well, not the event I was hoping for, which is the power coming back on. There was a pretty heavy thunderstorm around one and that’s when the electricity blew.”

She sits on the bottom step, knees drawn up. She likes to watch him working, a side of him they’re both still learning about. There was never much call for home maintenance at Hegal Place, or living out of cash-only motels. “You call the power company?”

He huffs. “Yeah, they told me they had no reported outages and the power should be fine. I explained that I was trying to report an outage and that it definitely was not fine and she promised someone would be here between tomorrow and eventually.”

Scully smiles. “And that’s why you’re out here toying with death?”

“Not much else to do, really. Can’t write with the power out.” Mulder sits back on his heels and shrugs. “You, uh, have a good day?”

She hadn’t. “Yep. Starting to feel like part of the team.”

“Good. You need to get your career standards as high as your standards for men,” he says, getting to his feet.

“Oh, well, that’s an obviously unattainable bar.”

“Obviously.” He sits next to her on the step. “You wear that to work? You know I think bras are a tool of the patriarchy and you shouldn’t bother, but I’m just surprised Our Lady of Perpetual Shame takes such a liberal view.”

She laughs a little. “I figured as long as I tossed a lab coat over it, I’d look like a real doctor. It worked when I was a kid.”

“Hey, that’s what I did with my badge half the time. Listen, Scully. The house is pretty tropical. You want to bunk up in a hotel until they get the power sorted out?”

Scully thinks about the convenience it would afford. Maids and room service and maybe a pool, depending. But she is tired of hotels, even nice ones. She is tired of polite signs that remind her that the pillows and towels and hairdryers aren’t hers, the tiny toiletries an indicator of her temporary status. She is tired of living out of suitcases and dressers that made her clothes smell strange, tired of running from her own life.  She wants to be home.

“Nah,” she says. “We’ll manage.”

Mulder looks surprised, but doesn’t question it. “I’ll call Lowe’s about getting a generator delivered tomorrow. We ought to have one anyway out here.”

She’d always had a vague idea that Mulder had money - it was the only explanation for his complete disinterest in it. But when they’d come back, when they’d talked to his lawyers, she'd been staggered. The Vineyard house alone explained his casual international jaunts. They can have things now, endless things, and there is something frantic in her that wants to spend the money. Bingeing chocolate bunnies after Lent.

Mulder peels his shirt off, wadding it into a limp ball. He tosses it so that it hooks over the doorknob. “Still got it,” he says. He preens.

“Does the NBA realize the tremendous talent they’re missing out on?” she asks. “Do they even know that, at this very moment, a six foot tall middle aged white man is out here flinging his clothing a distance of several feet?”

He snuggles up to her, wrapping his sweaty arms around her shoulders. 

“Ugh,” she says, and pushes at him. “Mulder, you’re disgusting and it’s a thousand degrees out here.”  

“Hoping that cold, cold heart of yours might cool me off.” She sniffs disdainfully, and he releases her. “Scully, how do you feel about bees?”

“We have a history, bees and I,” she observes, tapping the back of her neck.

Mulder curls his hand over the scar, kneads the muscles there. “Well, these wouldn’t be fancy bees.”

“Hmmm,” she says. “I’m not inherently opposed. Why do you want bees, Mulder?”

He shrugs. “I’m getting older, and I’ve got to consider funeral plans. The last one didn’t really go as expected, so I thought maybe I’d mellify myself this time.”

She nods. “Makes sense. I mean, of course, there’s no actual proof that mellification actually occurred, but that’s never stopped you.”

“I also like honey,” he adds. “And bees are good for the planet.”

“Honey often contains botulism spores,” she remarks. “Botulinum toxin is the most lethal toxin known, and it’s estimated that as little as 40 grams of it would be enough to kill everyone on earth.” She doesn’t say you shouldn’t give it to babies, that she sweetened her smoothies with dates and maple syrup so that -

“Well, nobody better piss off my bee army and me,” he says darkly. 

“Everybody eventually pisses you off. Mulder, is that old tent in the shed still? We could sleep in that tonight.”

He shakes his head. “Heavy mildew and dry rot, so I threw it out. We could sleep out here if you want, though. We’ve got that big air mattress.”

“Let’s do that,” she says. “We can put it on the porch. Tell you what - you get stuff together, and I’ll even make dinner.” Scully doesn’t like cooking, but she wants to create order, to complete a finite task. She can be domesticated again, like a lost house cat finally returned to a hearth.

“We having eggs or peanut butter?” he asks, smirky.

“I’d hate to spoil the surprise,” she snips, and goes back into their sauna of a house. 

In the kitchen, she stands in front of the open fridge, letting the delicious leftover cold soak into her skin. She’ll deal with the spoiled food later. Eggs had, actually, been her plan but it’s just too hot. The stove doesn’t work, and she doesn’t have the fortitude to turn the grill on. She finds some leftover shrimp pasta that Mulder has made, some vegetables, and assembles it all into a passable salad.

There, she thinks, pleased. I’d pay twelve bucks for that somewhere. She uses her foot to scratch a mosquito bite on her calf.

Her skin is clammy, hair stringy and damp from sweat. Maybe they should just go to a hotel after all. Perhaps she should stop ascribing symbolism to every damn thing and enjoy herself once in a while. But she thinks of packing, of driving, of unpacking and somehow it’s all too much and her eyes start to fill and her sinuses sting.

Scully pinches her wrist until it passes, feeling weak and hating the weakness in herself. It’s the heat, it’s the exhaustion, it’s the heavy mental load. She considers going outside for a dip in the pond, but suspects the water will be unpleasantly warm. Instead, she drags herself back upstairs for a cold shower.

She sits on the edge of the bed, weary, and stares at a framed picture of a sea turtle on the far wall. If she lets her eyes drift out of focus, it looks like it’s swimming. She tips her head back for a better angle, watches it float across her vision. It slips away then, into the black of the deep waters.

***

She startles awake when he touches her shoulder, gasps.

“Jesus,” Mulder says, and sits next to her. “Bad dream?”

Scully sits up, dazed. “What? No, was I asleep?”

“You’ve been out cold for over an hour, but I wanted to make sure you got some food. Water at least, it’s too hot up here.”

She blinks, confused. “I don’t remember,” she says. Peering to her right reveals night outside.

Mulder holds a hand out and she grasps it, letting him pull her to her feet. She wavers and he steadies her, arm about her shoulders. 

“I just need some water,” she says, defensive.

He guides her down the stairs and out the front door onto the porch. The air outside is substantially cooler, a light breeze kissing her face. She settles into a chair, stares deep into the felty dark. She still can’t remember falling asleep. 

Mulder hands her a water bottle from the little table and she rolls it between her palms, the plastic crinkling. “Hey, I thought you were setting up the air mattress out here,” she says.

“No air flow behind the wall,” he replies. “Drink that up like a good girl and I’ll show you what we’ve got.”

Scully obeys and feels better. The water tastes stale, but it’s cool and wet. “Maybe you should have my job,” she says, looking up. “Caring for live people is so much work.”

“Everybody eventually pisses me off,” he reminds her. “Come on, Doc.”

She follows him down the steps and around the side of the house. Their property is vast and feral, pocked with mole burrows and rabbit nests. The floodlights are out with the power, and the house is nearly swallowed up by the vast night. Scully glances up at the Milky Way, at the waxing moon, and marvels again at the sky they have out here. We are star stuff, she thinks.

“Moonstruck?” Mulder asks.

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars.”

“As long as you can tell a hawk from a handsaw,” he says, and tugs her along.

She follows him to the back of the house and then stops, smiling. Mulder has hammered some old two-by-fours into a frame, draped the structure in white bedsheets. Inside, the air mattress is piled with sofa pillows. Outside, camping lanterns, candles, and two strands of solar lights make it into a kind of fairy circle.

“Mulder,” she says, delighted. “This is ridiculous.”

“Indian Guide saves the day,” he says.

“Your architecture badge is definitely more impressive than your fire badge,” she says, walking over to the little tent. He’s brought her salad inside, and there is a cooler packed with ice and water bottles. Cans of bug spray sit at the flap. She crawls inside, suddenly ravenous. 

Mulder joins her on the mattress, which bounces in response. “Remember my water bed?”

She laughs, piling food on a plate for each of them. “What a swinging bachelor you were.”

She remembers the water bed fondly, the leather couch and the fish and the postage-stamp bathroom in his apartment. It shouldn’t hurt still, but it does. She knew herself there, her place on the map. She eats her salad, wistful for Chinese food and beer at that battered coffee table.

“Scully,” he says.

“What?”

“Scully.”

“Just middle-aged nostalgia, I suppose,” she murmurs.

He reaches out to take her hand. “You’re scarcely middle aged.”

She smiles, squeezes his fingers. “If you go by life experience, we’re both about two hundred years old.”

“Like those Galapagos tortoises. But you need to tell me what’s going on at work. You won’t disappoint me.”

It can be very disagreeable to live with a profiler.

Scully drops his hand. She bites at the fleshy part of her thumb. This is real, she thinks. This place. It is not down in any map; true places never are. She can only deflect for so long, and her armor is rusting away. “I’m afraid,” she whispers, then chances a look at his face.

His eyes are soft, searching. “Why?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know, I don’t…” Her sinuses sting again and she presses her palms hard into her eyes. “Please.”

Mulder’s hand on her back, in endless, gentle figure eights. He pulls the elastic from her hair and lets it tumble down to her shoulders. He shifts so that her back is to him, his long legs on either side of her body.

“Mulder, what -”

“Shhhh,” he says, and gathers the hair at the crown of her head. “It’s not a real sleepover if you don’t get your hair French braided.”

Scully blinks. “Since when do you know how to braid hair?”

“Little sister, absent parents. Now stop moving and talk.”

She keeps her head very steady, thinking of her own sister’s deft fingers when their mother was too busy for anything but ponytails. Mulder tugs at another little section of hair. Scully thinks she might be okay if she isn’t looking at him, if she can’t read herself in his eyes.

Moth shadows dance across the white sheet wall, drawn to the flickering candles outside. It fascinates her that they never figure out that fire burns.  “I don’t know how to do this,” she says, and her voice is thick.

“To talk, or to be still?” he says in his Oxford psychologist voice.

She isn’t sure of what she means either. “Yes,” she says, with a hiccupy laugh. “Both.”

“Me too,” he says, slipping his thumb through the strands behind her ear. “I don’t know how to do this.”

She swallows hard. “I just...I’ve always had something to consume me. I had the FBI, we traveled all the time, and then we were running and I thought it was hard but it was so easy to just survive. There were no decisions. I didn’t care about, I don’t know...plates.”

He pauses in his work. “Plates?”

Scully chews at a hangnail, frustrated. “Just things, the things you buy for a house. Long term things. I did with William and then…” she trails off, her chest tight. “I feel like I’m playing a game sometimes, like improv theater. Fox and Dana Build A Home.”

“Fox and Dana?” he repeats. “Surely not.”

“Well, we’re hardly Mulder and Scully anymore, are we?” Her stomach clenches and that’s it, she sees. That’s the fear.

He finishes the braid and fastens the elastic at the end of it. “Of course we are,” he says. “We are who we are.”

She turns to him then, the whispering anxiety back with a roar. “And who is that, Mulder? I was plain old Dana Scully until I met you. And we had this life, this strange and wonderful and terrible life where I was Scully because I was your partner and now that’s over. It’s all nothing.” She’s crying openly now, quietly, and it feels cleansing.

“You’re still my partner,” he says, and his eyes are shining too.

She wipes her nose with a paper napkin. “Am I? At what? I go to work and see patients but I forgot there’s no closure with the living. People get sick and get better and get sick again. It doesn’t end. And this house, the power is always going to go out and the chickens will always be hungry and -“  she stops, feeling hysterical.

“You don’t have to work,” he says softly. “The settlement from the FBI, my inheritance…”

She shakes her head. “You know I have to work.” 

He sighs, rubs her knee. “I know you do. But it doesn’t have to be this. It doesn’t have to drain you.”

He’s right, of course he’s right, but he’s also so terribly wrong that she wonders if he knows her at all. She has to be a doctor for her father, for William. For him. She has to see something through. Scully smooths her hand over the back of her head, feeling the even ridges of the braid. Mulder is so competent with everything he does, so easy with himself. He’ll get his damned bees and become some kind of honey magnate in no time.

“People at the hospital, they ask me what I did before. And I don’t know how to answer. How can I possibly answer that question? I just say I was with the government, but that isn’t really the answer, is it?”

Mulder shrugs. He’s never felt the need to explain himself to people. “It’s true.”

Scully stretches out on her stomach across the mattress, chin on the pillows, watching the moths again. They tumble like acrobats, untethered in the thick air. “There’s this number called Graham’s number, used in Ramsey Theory, which is, well, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, it was in the Guinness Book for being the largest specific number used in a proof at the time. And Mulder, this number is so big that writing out all the digits would exceed the bounds of the known universe.”

“Nobody likes a math nerd, Scully.”

She rolls onto her back to glare at him. “Yes they do, they give them Nobel prizes. Anyway. A whole new notation system, Knuth Notation, had to be developed to express these massive numbers. Graham’s Number, Tree(3), et cetera. And I feel like that at times. That there’s this endless amount of vital, inexpressible information inside of me that is so essential but that I have no way to share.”

She blinks a few times, spent by this unburdening.

Mulder stretches out next to her, propped on his side. “You can express it to me,” he says, massaging her temple with his thumb.

Scully closes her eyes. “I feel like a ghost sometimes. How do you do it, Mulder? How do you just keep moving forward without getting lost?”

He sighs. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you have a tendency to compile people into perfect specimens, then measure yourself against that imaginary standard. It’s the precession of simulacra.”

She looks at him, indignant, then realizes he could be right. “Well,” she says. “It’s possible. But Mulder, is that such a bad thing, to want to hold myself to the highest goals?”

He tugs her onto her side so that she’s facing him, nearly nose to nose. Her lips feel tingly. “Yes,” he says, stroking her hair. “When the goal isn’t attainable. And when it puts everyone else on pedestals where we’re ill equipped to balance. And when it puts you in a constant state of frustration and anxiety. No one is perfect. Not even you.”

“I don’t want to be perfect,” she lies. “And I don’t need you to be either.” That part is true, at least.

He laughs in reply. “Apropos of being Galapagos tortoises, Charles Darwin once said ‘I am very poorly today, and very stupid and hate everybody and everything.’”

“He rode the tortoises,” Scully says, calming. “I can’t defend his methodology.”

“See? You’re better than Charles Darwin.” He kisses her forehead.

“Well,” she says. “Well.”

“Scully, look. You’re not alone here, feeling at sea. I went to the feed store and some guy picked a fight, shoved me pretty hard with his shoulder. And this reflexive part of my brain wanted to grab my badge, stick it in his face, and put him against the wall for assaulting a federal agent. But I ignored it and bought the chicken feed and just headed out. And I felt like, is this who I am now? Some pushover with yard birds and home improvement books?”

“You made a little fast and loose with your authority sometimes,” she says, thinking of Roche. She curves her palm against his cheek, thumbs the fine ridge of his zygomatic bone.

He bumps her nose with his. “You broke into a secret morgue.”

“You made me.” She sniffles, laughs a little. “The good old days.”

“These can be the good days too,” he says. “They can, if we work at it.” He traces her mouth with his finger.

“Okay,” she says. Hope stirs in her, a thing with feathers. “Partners?”

“Partners.”

He kisses her, in their small tent, in their ring of light.

[nobodyeverasked]

i promise you; han jisung

(6274 words) - large

Summary: Secret’s can’t be kept forever, but promises can.

All Jisung could do was let his jaw hang in awe as he stood next to the rest of his group, Stray Kids. The performance ahead of him capturing his full attention. The crisp, white lights intermingling with NCT Dream’s fluid performance illuminating the stage with the embers of beauty, the pulses of music weaving between everyone’s seamless movements. His parted lips curled up when Y/N - the newest member of NCT - strode into the center, his awe-striking raps making Jisung’s knees go weak, and his heart lodge itself into his throat. 

Saying that Jisung was enamored by every single little thing Y/N did was an understatement, the boy was in love. The voice that smoothly meandered through Y/N’s lips made Jisung want to hear it every single day, he wants to see those radiantly confident eyes and joyful smile up close. His bandmate, Minho, caught him staring, his subtle smirk flourishing into full-grown laughter that could even be heard over the music that trudged between them.

“Hey,” Minho pushed Jisung’s chin up, closing his mouth. “You don’t want the cameras to catch you drooling” Jisung jumped back in his chair, the firm, dark leather below him heating up with the cinders of embarrassment pooling in his palms. Minho let his chuckle grow louder, ignoring the small pout on Jisung’s reddening face - the blush lodging into his skin. 

“Shush, you.” A faint glare ignited in Jisung’s eyes, but his gaze never parting from Y/N’s sharp, yet smooth dance moves, his body moving with such purpose. He rambled on, ignoring Minho’s jesting nudges to the shoulder. “He’s just so perfect, the way he dances, the way he sings, and raps. He’s so cute and beautiful and confident at the same time, he has such a great personality on stages, and he makes everyone feel like they know his entire story just by once performance.” Jisung’s profound tangent subsided with a sigh, his shoulders dropping and the wisps of his breath fading into the rest of the screams of the audience in front of them. “I wish I could… Like… Talk to him or something…”

“I’ve never heard you talk about someone like that. This must be the real deal, huh?” Minho shrugged, watching how Jisung’s eyes followed Y/N’s seamlessly flowing body to the other side of the stage. “I have an idea, how about, talk to him?” A thin layer of snarkiness laced his words, a cheeky grin taking over his face as Jisung whipped his head over, both shock and lighthearted annoyance tainting his large, dark brown eyes. The flames of infatuation still blazed in his heart, the molten chains - searing with desire - raking his entire body back to the direction of the stage. He could barely picture himself in the same space with a person with such a vivid presence, with such captivating eyes and a voice that echoed with such beauty on it’s own.  

“Okay! But how?” Jisung elbowed Minho softly, still feeling the sting of sarcasm off of his small giggles. “It’s harder than you think.”

“The performance is almost over, just head backstage and talk to him, it’s honestly not that hard, other groups talk to each other all the time.” Minho wrapped his arm around Jisung’s shoulders. He could feel the tremors of doubt rumbling throughout Jsungs body, his breaths - glitching with the plague of nervousness - making Minho give his bandmate’s arm a little squeeze. “Okay? You’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen.”

“He’ll never talk to me again and only see me as a desperate loser.” Jisung retorted, staring blankly back at Minho. His hopes only plummeting further when he could hear NCT Dream’s song near its end. 

“Damn, you had that planned out, didn’t you?” Minho cocked his head and silently winced, thinking about how likely Jisung’s augmented fantasy could become a reality.

Jisung chuckled, taking solace in the light of comfort surging in his chest, writhing through Minho’s arm that was still coiled around his shoulders. “Yeah.”

“Go. Go get ‘em, Sung, your man’s waiting for ya!” With a light shove, Minho edged Jisung out of his chair, gesturing backstage with a subtle headnod. Jisung’s lifted spirits immediately sank to his stomach, his heart racing in his chest - slamming against his ribs. He could hear the frenetic pulsing in his ears, the sound of applause drowned out by the ringing of worry chiming in his head. With one last breath, he quickly snuck backstage before the shadows of his doubts could drag him back.

*

He could still feel his breath catching in his throat, his head whipping around backstage to find Y/N before it was too late. What if he left already? When could they ever try and meet like this again? The sparks of hope in Jisung’s heart started to wither as all he could find were perplexed stares from stage staff, not the seamlessly moving body of the young man he wished to talk to.

“Oh, sorry!” The words stumbled into his ears and he could feel something recoiling away from him. It was Y/N, who just bumped into Jisung’s chest, apologies already tripping over this tongue in a knot of mangled words. 

Silence weighed heavy on their bodies, the threads of awkwardness sewing their mouths shut, and their eyes slowly wandering to anything other than each other. This was it, this was Jisung’s chance to lock eyes and trade words with the person that he was so fond of, the one who wrenched his mouth agape in awe every time he performed, and the one who’s voice lulled him into a euphoric trance that he could hardly explain.

“Um, hi…” Jisung started, his voice dying off even before the lights of perseverance dancing in his chest started to ignite. “Your performance was, um… Really amazing.” A smile slowly formed on his face, his mind flashing back to the effortless charisma that surged under Y/N’s skin every time he performed.

 “Oh! Thank you, that’s so nice…” Y/N shyly trailed off, his eyes raising up to someone he always looked up to, someone he looked up to since he watched Jisung’s pre-debut videos, and when he was on his survival show. To hear a compliment from someone he admired lit his heart ablaze with the lustrous embers of confidence and happiness, his grin widening and his laughter fluttering into the air that reeked of the stench of awkwardness no more. “I… Um… Actually, look up to you- I mean- yeah… That…” With a nervous giggle, he rocked back and forth on his feet, his hands fidgeting nervously behind his back.

“Me? Have you seen yourself? You’re like a dancing machine.” Somehow, Jisung’s words felt more natural, and the eyes he stared into began to soften, the tension in the air no longer pushing down on them.

“Y/N! Where are- there you are!” Both boys - Jisung and Y/N - whipped their heads around to a voice echoing from further backstage. It was Renjun, hollering for his bandmate, Y/N could practically see Renjun’s shoulders soften as a hand dragged across his face, a huge sigh of relief lacing his lips. “C’mon! We’re gonna be late!”

“I’ll be there in a second!” Y/N shouted back, silently wincing to himself as he realized that he wouldn’t be able to talk to Jisung for much longer. 

“Hey, d’you think we could… uh… Trade numbers? We could- uhm… Talk later…?” Jisung shrugged, the echoes of sympathy lacing his faltering voice. He could practically feel the hurricane of rushed thoughts rampaging throughout Y/N’s head, and he didn’t want him or Renjun to be late.

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Y/N nodded, looking at the vanity next to them to find a scrap piece of paper. He ripped off a chunk from the corner, finding a pen on the other end and scribbling down his number. He handed it to Jisung shyly, their smiles mingling together in a symphony of bliss that spiraled within both of them. “Uh… Call me later?”

“Will do.” 

They nodded to each other, a subtle blush clawing into Y/N’s cheeks as he could barely see Jisung flashing a cheeky wink. Both of their chests swelled with the flames of joy, their hearts no longer lodged in their throats, and their nervousness no longer shining in their minds.

“Oh, thank God, let’s go.” Renjun clutched Y/N’s hands, taking him out back. “Who was that?” He looked back, a smirk forming on his face when he could see a vivid scarlet taking over his bandmate’s cheeks and neck, the cinders of embarrassment scorching his skin and scattering through his sheepish grin.

“Oh, uh… Jisung? From Stray Kids? I was just giving him my number.”

“Oooh… Do I sense something?” Renjun pinched Y/N’s cheeks, stopping in the middle of the hallway as he kept teasing his younger member. “Something… Romantic?”

“Shut up.” Y/N scrunched his nose and flicked Renjun’s forehead, continuing to walk to the exit.

*

Y/N leaned back on his bed with a sigh, another text from Jisung making the sparks of admiration soaring amply in his eyes shine that much brighter. Ever since he gave Jisung his number, their status from awkward convo-buddies skyrocketed. They started spending so much time together, that it wasn’t just Renjun teasing him anymore. Their hearts started to beat louder when they locked eyes, and playful nudges grew to soft touches. The warmth coiling their chests were replaced with one another’s arms, and soon, the flourishing amity that boiled within both of them combusted into something so much more, so much deeper. They started to love each other. What was once a conglomerate of desperate celebrity crushes and sheathed admiration, unraveled into slow passionate kisses and tender back hugs that drowned their bodies with the sweet gales of ardor.

As radiant as their hearts shone for one another, they were always able to keep their attraction a secret, always locking lips and sharing love-struck grins behind closed doors.

“Who was that from?” Jeno glanced over to Y/N, who was still collapsed on his bed, a foolish smile overtaking his features. “Was it from ‘Sungie’?”

“Okay? You know what? I dun need your sass!” Y/N scoffed sarcastically and stood up from the bed, walking over to Jeno. “And yes, yes it was…” He could already hear Jisung’s adorable voice channeling through the words on his phone screen, those dark, entrancing eyes looking down at him and those slim fingers softly carding through his hair, kneading into the back of his neck. He could feel the tepid flames of admiration soaking through his skin. The orange hair of Jisung that he always loved to thread his hands through searing his fingertips. “He wants to hang tonight, actually.”

“Alright, make sure to come home before ten, stranger danger!” Jaemin raised his eyebrows, watching with a mischievous smile as he could hear Y/N groan from around the corner. “I’m kidding! Have a good time.” Jaemin shot up, wrapping his arms tightly around Y/N, following him to the door of their shared dorm.

“Thanks, see you later-”

“NOT TOO MUCH FUN! Y/N!” Y/n rolled his eyes, laughter bursting through everyone’s lips when they heard Donghyuck’s voice trailing from his room down the hall.

“NO PROMISES HYUCK!”

“I’LL SLAP A BITCH IF I HAVE TO!” Donghyuck peeked his head from his doorframe, jogging up to the door before Y/N could step out, Jaemin still stuck onto him - arms clasped around his chest.

“I know you will… Can I go see my boyfriend now?” Y/N shrugged his shoulder, giggle as Jaemin groaned lightly, letting him go. Y/N walked through the door, ready to feel the flames of molten infatuation pool in his stomach once more, and to have the skin of his older boyfriend running languidly under his warm hands.

“Okay, fine! But you heard me!”

“Yes, yes… Maybe.” Y/N dashed down the hall before Donghyuck could swipe at him the echoes of everyone’s laughter fading out of his ears as he burst through the entrance doors, pulling down his cap. He could barely contain the radiant smile of elation behind his mask, his steps gliding across the ashen concrete of the sidewalk with bounds of happiness.

*

Jisung and Y/N strolled down the side of the barren streets, riddled with the darkness of the night time. Their hands were laced together, and even though their eyes were ahead of them, the only thing in their minds was each other, flames of burning adoration writhing at the pit of their stomachs and spiraling through their shared grins. They let their stares wander across the small pinpoints of light still lingering in the sky, the threads of the indigo clouds weaving the streams of moonlight together.

“Hey, Sung?” Y/N carefully pushed past their tranquil silence, his oddly nervous voice melding with the screeches of their shoes against the sidewalk.

“Sup, babe?” Jisung brought Y/N’s hand under his mask, his lips lining his knuckles in chaste pecks before bringing them back down between them, eyes meeting in the gales of admiration amply floating around them. “Is everything alright?” He cocked his head to the side, a curious gaze resting beneath his thin lashes.

“Uhm… Yeah… I’m just worried about something.” With a sigh, Y/N slowed his pace, dragging his hand along his face as he tried to piece his words and concerns together.

“Spill!” Jisung slipped his fingers between Y/N’s, spinning them around and pushing him gently towards the auburn brick wall of the store beside them, a whirlwind of youthful amity spiraling with their small chuckles and searing their touching chests. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Jisung rested his forehead on the younger’s, taking in the warmth of his calming breaths and the thin haze of vanilla coating his hair. He pulled off his mask and pecked Y/N’s nose, lifting his cap to see wondrous eyes that shone brighter than the stars hovering in the night sky over them.

“You make it really hard not to when you’re so adorable…” Y/N finally let a thin breath of relief push past his lips, giggling lightly when lips pecked his cheeks, gliding across his jawline. “I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“About what?”

“Just, this is amazing. You. You’re so amazing, but we both know what’ll happen if we get found out, I just don't want that day to come…” The younger slid his gaze down, internally wincing when the lips unconsciously roaming the supple skin of his neck instantly stopped, Jisung leaning back and cocking his head to the side. He breathed out slowly, realizing that this future may become a reality if they are not careful. However, the last thing he will ever want to do is keep his baby worrying, which has been happening right under his nose.

“Hey, look at me, babe…” Jisung placed his finger under Y/N’s chin, locking their eyes together, small flames of adoration still pooling in their molten stares of infatuation that seemed to burn through even the thickest of their doubts. “Nothing is going to happen to us, and nobody will do anything, okay?” The older weaved their lips together, the moonlight sheathing their radiant passion in the sheets of the twilight.

“I- okay...” Y/N threaded his hands in Jisung’s orange hair, his lithe fingers sliding down to the back of his neck, and searing into his skin through the embers of their admiration. “I just…”

“I know, it’s scary, but we’ve been through a lot, and we’ve grown so much, there’s nothing you and I can’t do.” Jisung relished in the softness of Y/N’s hands resting on his body, humming gently when lips leaped up to clasp onto his. “Now, let’s go get that ice cream, yeah?”

“Okay.” Y/N let a peaceful smile meander across his features, happiness taking over where the remnants of his worry lingered, they took off onto the sidewalk again, Jisung’s arm wrapped snugly around Y/N’s shoulders. The symphonies of their love swelled with every step they took, the compassion spilling from their shared smiles and intertwining gazes echoing louder in their ears.

Louder than the click and flash from across the street.

*

“Five more minutes, Jisung!”

“You said that ten minutes ago!”

A harmony of whines poured out of Y/N’s room, as Jeno and Jisung tried their hardest to wake their bandmate, little did the latter know, they had some horrible news. Guilt bubbled in their stomachs as Jeno clutched his phone harder, still trembling while he watched Jisung recklessly pry the blanket form Y/N’s sprawled body.

“You have no idea how weird it is to have two Jisungs in my life…” Y/N finally let his eyes flutter open and peer at Jisung who was still wrestling with him and his blanket, the tan sheets below them rippling against their bodies and reflecting the glow of their temporary hilarity.

Jisung tried to laugh, but he was too nervous about what shone on Jeno’s phone, and he tried not to burst into tears when Y/N finally sat up, waiting for more words to be said.

“What’s up…? Did Chenle cook again? You two look nauseous…” Y/N tried to laugh off the stilled air that sat between him and the two other boys, their moment of happiness being dragged through the mud and soot of silence. “Seriously… What’s wrong, are you guys okay?” Y/N propped himself up from off the bed, leaning forward to smooth over Jisung’s cheek and feel Jeno’s forehead, not sensing the flames of illness burning his fingertips, but something else.

“Uhm… We need to… Uhm…” Jeno couldn’t muster any words, because he would know the rainstorm of tears and sorrow that would follow, and the last thing he needed was his dear bandmate to cry into his shoulder. All he wanted was for this article to go away, however, no matter how hard Jisung and Jeno wished, the thick, black words on the headline stabbed into their eyes and dug into their hearts with the spades of worry and anguish.

Jeno just turned his phone around, unwilling to look at those letters and words any more. Y/n’s eyes widened as he read the headline.

All of his doubts, worries, and fear that hung above him in the delicate threads of hope came crashing down in an instant.

Another couple caught by Dispatch: Y/N from NCT and Han from Stray Kids? Here’s what to know about this new Kpop couple!

The words on that blaring screen taunted his anger and beckoned his sadness, all of his emotions and fear amalgamating into a single tear, silently rolling down his cheek, his mouth wrenched agape in shock. The smoke of distress billowed throughout his head, thoughts scrambling in his mind and his words stuck in time.

“Y/N-”

“No…” Y/N murmured, dropping Jeno’s phone on the bed, his hands moving up to cover his teary eyes. “No… This can’t be happening…” He just let his tears fall through his fingers - just like his secrets - barely noticing the two pairs of arms that instantly wound around him, the warmth of their embraces dissipating in the frigid whirlwind that writhed recklessly in his heart. “This- this is fake… This has to be…” He continued to let the unmixed anguish spill out from him, one sob to the next, peeling off of his tongue slowly, painfully. 

He felt like everything that he and Jisung built together came crumbling down before him, the fortress of their solace withering within the flash of a camera. He leaned into his maknae’s shoulder, his tears soaking into the white fabric of his shirt, and his cries ripping through the air - thick with misery.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…” Jeno said, barely holding back tears of his own, his hand grazing over Y/N’s hair, and his fingers smoothing down his back.

Jisung couldn’t hold himself back, he did not know what to do. He let his sadness pour from him, rivers carved in his cheeks as he tried his best holding Y/N, remaining strong for his bandmate, but he could not. All he saw was a broken heart and the happiness of one of his favourite people in the universe vanishing into thin air. He kept his trembling fingers interweaved with Y/N’s hair, his other arm curled tightly around Y/N’s shoulders.

“Hey, did you guys wake Y/N yet? Breakfast’s ready-” Jaemin cut himself off as he heard the cacophony of wretched weeps clawing into his ear from out the door, both his mind and body already scrambling to the three boys crying on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

None of them answered, except for Jeno, who composed himself just enough to force a weak gesture to the phone beside the conglomerate of sadness. Jaemin’s perplexed gaze swept over the words on the phone, his eyes instantly widening.

“Hey, hey…” Jaemin tried his best to lift Y/N off of the bed, both Jisung and Jeno letting go and standing up beside him while frantically wiping their tears away. “Hey, Y/N…” Jaemin cupped Y/N’s tear-stained face, gently bringing their stares together, the younger’s whirlpool of sadness now soaking the fires of happiness in his own heart. 

For Jaemin to see Y/N like this made his upturned lips slowly languish, for the entire six years that he spent by Y/N’s side, he has never seen him like this before. “It’s all going to be okay, alright?” He wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist, Jisung and Jeno joining in again on the embrace that grew warmer with every hymn of support that eased from Jaemin’s curing grin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Y/N- Oh my God…” Donghyuck, Renjun, and Chenle stepped through the door to see storms of sorrow ripping through the air, subsiding second by second. They all ran towards Y/N, whimpers still crossing his tongue. There were so many things burning in his head, branding his mind with the scorches of stress; such as his group - what will happen now? Now that his secret has finally slipped. What about his contract? What will the managers do? Jisung…? What about Jisung, his boyfriend? Y/N couldn’t help but think about how the love of his life could be doing, what whirlwinds of worry and heartbreak could be conjuring in him as well?

“What happened? Is everything alright?” Chenle asked, stepping closer to Y/N and wrapping him in full embrace, torrid with the flames of affection. 

“I- I… I went out with Jisung… W- we… They caught us…” Y/N kept his head hung low. “I’m so sorry… I don’t know what to do… The group, Jisung, our reputation… Everything…”

“Hey, don’t worry about the group, you’re always gonna have us,” Donghyuck loving smoothed over his younger member’s back, his touch easing a deep breath through Y/N’s still parted lips, the echoes of his sobs resonating through his sighs. “Whether you like it or not.”

Y/N and Donghyuck shared a laugh, Renjun’s arms that wound around Y/N’s chest, making small candle fire igniting in his stomach grow with the heat of his members’ unconditional love, the glow of flourishing joy starting to bloom within his chest. Donghyuck embraced Y/N as well, his head leaning against the younger’s.

All of the other members joined in, sharing the same smile that started to taint Y/N’s frown. The embrace smothered him in the firestorm of comfort, the symphonies of happiness playing in his ears once more, and the tears finally stopping their escapade down his cheeks. Y/N could feel every ounce of his bandmates’ love dripping onto him, the ivory sunlight draping over their bodies making his heart burn that much brighter, and the flames of tenderness writhing under his skin spread that much quicker.

“...Thank you… I love you guys.” Y/N tilted his head to lean onto Chenle’s, his deep, coral hair tickling Y/N’s cheek and forging a fragile giggle from his lips.

“We love you too.” They all spoke in unison, the symphonies of their tranquil and blissful voices making the angelic wings of Y/N’s happiness flutter within his chest, his mind - marred with sadness - slowly healing with the light of compassion surging through the arms and hands that wrapped around him.

“Y/N-” Taeyong peeked his head into the room, a smile overtaking his worried features as he saw his younger members huddled in a heatwave of warm embraces. However, he knew now, that bringing Y/N to the manager would be that much harder. “Y/N?” With the nervousness chiseling out his pursed lips slowly fading away in the sunlight - tainted with a newborn joy - he stepped further into the room.

His call to Y/N drew everyone’s attention, seven pairs of eyes locking with his. Taeyong tried clearing his throat, the words that hung at the peak of his mind tangling in his throat and melted by the ardent compassion soaring throughout the room.

“Yeah…?”

“It’s the manager, she wants to see you, the CEO, too…” Taeyong could see Y/N’s tiny simper instantly drop, everybody else's following suit, whatever hope that still managed to claw its way into the seven younger boys’ minds falling into the abyss of their doubts and worries. “I’m sorry…” Taeyong couldn’t handle thinking about what the head of their entertainment company would have to say, or their manager. 

Gently pulling Y/N into a loving embrace, he glossed over the fate that lingered in his nightmares, shrouded by the smokescreen of his own desperation for his younger member to stay. He could not imagine a room without Y/N’s light, or a performance without his presence and wondrous, inspiring voice. He could never conceptualize the probability for the group to become only twenty-one members once more, a part of everyone’s heart potentially leaving through those doors - maybe never coming back.

“It’s okay.” Y/N murmured, his words intertwining with his shaky breaths. He followed Taeyong out the door, his fingers entwined with the older’s loosely, and his head hung low in dejection. “Do you think they’ll kick me out?” Y/N lifted his gaze hopelessly to Taeyong’s, thinking that this might be the last time he could ever stare into the leader’s eyes, or hear the voice that lifted him up countless times, taught him his first dance, or ordered their coffee in the morning.

“No, never, none of us would let them, okay? You’re staying right here, and they’ll have to pry you from our cold. Dead. Hands…” Taeyong stopped in front of Y/N, his hands squeezing the younger’s shoulders, and a smile - filled with faith - lacing his lips.

“You always know what to say.” Y/N dropped his head onto Taeyong’s chest, taking in the warmth of his embrace before they continued walking. The leader’s arm wrapped protectively around Y/N’s shoulder. “Even if it’s a little creepy…”

They came to a halt right in front of a large, white door, the wildfires of fear convulsing in them both. Shudders ran throughout their bodies, the sparks of worry that danced frenetically in Y/N’s mind taking flight, and nestling into the dark corners of his hopelessness. As he reached for the pristine, nickel doorknob, the frigid metal seared into his skin, and his heart instantly sunk into the bottom of his stomach.

He never thought that he would have to scorch this door with any more of his fingerprints, the bitter glares and commanding voices resonating behind this wall already making his hands shake with the tremors of worry.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Let’s go in together.”

They both pushed through the door, their eyes instantly landing on two well-dressed women, crisp, black collars framing their pale necks and tinted lips pressed into firm lines. Their dark eyes burned with unreadable flames, their features stoic, and their mouths unmoving. The manager gestured to the chairs ahead of them, her movements fluent and gentle - consoling.

“I assume you know why you’re here, Y/N.” As delicate as the co-CEO - Soyoung’s - voice was, Y/N still sat frigidly in the room, the hands and fingers stroking soothingly on his arm as weightless as the silence hung between the four bodies sitting in the room. 

Taeyong kept his eyes on Y/N the whole time, his alleviating touch never leaving his younger member.

“Y-yes…” Y/N looked down to his lap, already trying to push back the tears that thrashed at his eyes once more, his voice caught on his tongue that stung with the poisons of dread. “I-”

“I know, it was not meant to be spread, and yes, I know you’re sorry.” Soyoung finished Y/N’s thought, her eyes lit ablaze by a perplexing light of understanding. “We’re sorting things out at the moment with Dispatch, however, you and Jisung need to be more careful, there is a dating ban for a reason. You are less than a year into your career, and this choice will affect everybody. We have not had good experiences with others confirming their relationships - even with a stable fanbase. Just know that we’re only looking out for you with this contract.” Soyoung gazed into Y/N’s eyes with a subtle sternness, the tension within the room slowly unraveling as the CEO continued to speak. He imagined how the group would be affected if he were to get hate, and how it would affect all twenty-one of his members that he loved with all his heart. “We’re going to survey everything, and if the negativity does augment the promotions after our confirmation, unfortunately, we might need you to end things with him.”

Y/N finally raised his head, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth. He interlaced his fingers with Taeyong’s, the comforting squeeze from the boy beside him easing his stiffened breaths.

“However,” Soyoung continued, “if they do not, then you both can remain a couple. I will contact JYP right now, so we could adjust our plans accordingly.”

“So… I’m not getting kicked out-”

“No! Of course not.” Soyoung let her voice settle back down into the gales of relief that started to circulate the white walls, her eyebrow raising as if Y/N’s question was somehow odd. “You’re a teenager, you’re hormonal and feel things, I was a teenager, too, believe it or not. I cannot stop you from loving, but there are some things I might have to do, okay?”

“Thank you, so much…” Y/N stood up from the chair with a sigh of relief, his head leaning onto Taeyong’s shoulder, and the sparks of hope finally shining within his eyes again. He wrapped his arms around his leader, their embrace lighting the room ablaze and scorching the floors below them with the flames of untainted joy, a euphoric breath easing shakily from Taeyong’s mouth.

“Of course, now, I have heard that you have breakfast to get to, work hard please!” Soyoung gave a parting wave, gesturing lightly to the door. 

“I will!” 

The boys instantly ran out, their hands tied together when they whipped around the corner. All Y/N could hope now was that Jisung was okay.

*

It has been a full week, a full week without Y/N feeling the grace of Jisung’s touch, or the warmth of his breath clawing into his neck. A full week of thinking about what to tell him how to meet and what to say; if Jisung was not pulled from his group, that is. 

Today was finally the day, though. The KMF Korean Music Festival. Y/N sat in the back of their van, his legs playfully strewn across Renjun’s as they lounged into the tepid, black leather seats below them. The thin fabric of the mats below him never feeling softer under his shoes, and the arms of his members draped around his neck never feeling more comforting than now.

When the van stopped, they all hopped out, the gilded sky glazing their bodies with an amber glow before they scampered into the back entrance of the stadium. Their footsteps left trails the ample embers of happiness behind them as they ran backstage, the makeup artists and wardrobe staff already standing with cases and hangers embellishing their busy hands.

“Hey, Y/N?” His maknae, Jisung, popped his head into the reflection of Y/N’s vanity mirror as the stylist stopped working, the lights sheathing Y/N’s trembles and nerves in an ivory glow that he was more than thankful for.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Y/N turned around on the chair, the white tassels embellishing his black jacket swaying with the fluid motion of his body.

“If things get… Like…”

“Sung-”

“I’m just saying! Don’t hesitate to come to us, we know that there’s not a lot of hate going around - thank God - but relationships are a big deal. If you feel off about seeing him here, we’ll be in your corner, okay?”

“Okay…” Y/N sighed, pinching Jisung’s cheek before walking further backstage, hoping to lock eyes with the man he loves. “Thank you, I mean it.”

Jisung patted Y/N’s chest with a nod before wandering towards the exit leading to the audience, scorch marks of his comforting words warming Y/N’s heart before it lodged itself into his throat. 

Just thinking about his boyfriend made him nervous, sad, and joyful all at the same time, a swarm of emotions eating away at his mind, and his thoughts tainting his head with the images of Jisung’s lustrous brown eyes, and how they burst with passion and admiration. 

“Oh! Sorry!” He stumbled back as he could feel himself bump into someone, the chest that grazed his fingers for a mere moment igniting sparks under his skin, and raking his eyes up from the ground with the chains of curiosity. “Sungie!” Y/N ran full force into the open arms of his boyfriend, who waited silently for his baby to wrap him in his ethereal embrace. They nestled their noses into each other’s necks, the soft skin that they loved to feel under their touch ghosting their lips and radiating with the glows of compassion.

“Y/N.” Jisung’s words dissipated with a breath of relief, the emotions wrapping around his head and coiling his heart brightening his smile that shone with the radiance of pure admiration. He soaked in the warmth draping around his shoulders and the flames of adoration lacing Y/N’s skin, the peaceful silence surrounding them twisting in the midst of their gentle breaths. “I’m so sorry, I thought we were alone, I… I-”

“There is nothing to worry about, okay? We’re together, we’re here. You said we could get through anything, so we will, okay?” Y/N looked up and rested his fingers on Jisung’s neck, drawing him in for a chaste kiss. Their tongues entwined swiftly, and the sweet poisons of desire tainting their lips drawing hums of satisfaction from their throats. The longing for one another’s touch hung delicately between them, heavy breaths caressing their skin.

“So they let you stay?” Jisung smiled as he received a slight nod, his happiness blooming through a red-margined smile. “Thank goodness!”

“You too?”

“Yeah… Oh, wait, here… I wanted to give this to you when were were out last time, but I wanted it to be more special…” Jisung pulled a ring from out of his pocket, a slim silver band of paramount adoration, searing with the flames of their memories. It was a promise ring, one that fit so perfectly onto Y/N’s finger, and shone so perfectly even when eclipsed by the shadows of backstage. “It’s a promise ring, Y/N. I just want you to know, that no matter how hard things get, you always have me, and you can always find me.” Jisung intertwined their fingers, a blistering knot of trust and devotion tangled in their locked hands.

“Babe, it’s beautiful…” Y/N looked at how it matched his boyfriends, the warmth and security of the man he loved already wrapping around him, drenching his skin in the torrid flames of their admiration. 

“I know things were difficult, they might still be, now that everyone knows...  But I’ll always be here for you, baby. I always will, I promise…” Jisung scooped Y/N into one more embrace, their eyes fluttering closed in the serene melodies of their everlasting promises and searing devotion. 

“You will always have me, Han Jisung, nothing will take us apart.”

Jisung weaved their grins together, the light of their joy glistening on their interlocked lips, their hands cradling their reddened cheeks, and the younger’s wandering fingertips tangling ardently in Jisung’s orange hair. “Oh, shit!” Y/N whipped his head up as passionate kisses littered his neck, the curves of Jisung’s smile branding the supple skin of Y/N’s neck. “I gotta go, we’re performing! Love you!”

“I love you more. Go, make me proud, baby.” Jisung stared fondly as his boyfriend pecked him on the nose and scurried backstage, his lips coated with the taste of Y/N’s tongue, and his lips holding their cherished promises.

[bernie-bear]

jesus christ zandra is an interpersonal menace

commentary below

some context is necessary here - zandra was raised by a high elf father who ran a parlor/bar/club that only served the noblest of the noble. she loves money and asks for it pretty often during act 1, and is also standoffish because of her natural distance from being raised in an environment where her dad basically showed her off to his patrons - she's extremely beautiful (for a gnome, many would say) and talented with both magic and music. back then, she seemed untouchable.

wyll:

as she develops into a better person during the acts, becoming more sure of what she herself wants, finding value in sticking out for others and helping them (without needing (too much) recompense)... wyll falls in love with her hard. how could he not - she's basically a perfect princess

she turns him down during the dance, though, which kind of broke his heart but he doesnt get over his love for her. zandra knows and just kind of keeps her distance from there, though she doesn't stop caring for him as a friend. she's just not interested in him that way.

gale:

zandra and gale shared a very short fling in act 2 (shadowheart doesn't really get into a relationship with tav until act 3 so zandra has a lot of free time to fuck around lol). gale kind of got caught up with it and she had to be like hi thanks for bringing me out here to the woods but i dont like you like that

in a platonic sense, which is the standard for the rest of the game, gale likes her more than she does him but theyre pretty good friends. nothing crazy though

minsc:

also nothing crazy here. the hamster shit is kinda funny

jaheira:

loves jaheira like an aunt and mom and best friend IDK i think zandra felt very comfortable quipping with her from the beginning. when she found out jaheira was an actual mom that was kind of neglectful she was like thats okay. im kind of used to that lowkey.. love and peace on planet earth

halsin:

i project my love of boobs toward zandra, so that was essentially what she was enamored with when it came to halsin. i guess she also likes him like, as a person, but she pretty much gets bored of him quick in terms of romance. i dont think halsin is particularly enamored with her either, its just an attraction thing that fades naturally. but also because hes a generally nicer person i guess he likes her more than she likes him LMFAO

karlach:

zandra LOVES karlach's energy and adores how straightforward she is in being a good person (why she doesnt see wyll exactly the same i dont know. i dont think she likes men very much). karlach took longer time to get around to liking zandra but now they're thick as thieves. until karlach goes back to hell i guess

astarion:

ohhhh my fucking god dude. you know how zandra has a high elf dad right. they love each other but its complicated when youre both concerned with self image and youre a child with a gay ass father. but still, zandra does love her father, and since shes a "special" gnome imagine how heartbreaking it was for the only high elf in the party who was also gay as fuck to dislike gnomes. as an adoptee she feels strongly about gnomes and their welfare, so she had really mixed feelings about him.

i think he also had really mixed feelings about her too because he also did think she was very beautiful for a gnome, and people were drawn to her despite her natural distance when he probably feels he had to work hard for it. in the end though theyre good with each other :thumbsup: they probably go for manicures together

shadowheart:

i dont think zandra thought she was straight but clearly she has more like. things going on with men. but something about shadowheart really drew her.. she liked how flexible shadowheart was when it came to romance and sex, but found her faith interesting (she doesnt really feel sure about anything like that). they both also really like animals and flowers (not a projection by me btw. its not like i adore them and take people to botanical gardens and zoos)

i had like deeper thoughts about their relationship but theyre not coming to mind rn sorry

laezel:

nothing really crazy here tbh. zandra is not very sure why laezel likes her very much but assumes laezel just respects her a lot, which is something she doesn't really understand either. but after saving her from orin i think they solidly thought of each other as friends - i always get really giddy when laezel asked if there was something bothering me, like i knew she really liked me from then on. how couldnt i like her back :sob:

also dropping my romance chart here that i worked way too long on

my tav is a gnome. my tav would kin rarity. my tav would invent some snazzy ice cream with gale. my tav is addicted to trading. my tav asks for a reward like 75% of the time. my tav may look like an ice princess but she is prone to emotion. my tav gets her party constantly injured due to her poor strategic skills but gets away with it because of her 21 CHA. my tavs recent desire is to fully braid her hair with shadowheart's, like a tame version of cannibal yuri. my tav has a soft spot for kids probably because she doesnt need to lift her head up to see them. my tav has constant neck pain because everyone else at camp is so fucking tall

[hoodie-at-the-bar]

farting gene (a.k.a christmas gene)

Remember Christmas Gene? I wrote about him last holiday - one of those chat but never met up. He was from San Diego and was very direct asking me to his sister’s Christmas party and sending me photos of his sweater.

He was very cute, very attractive - and he definitely knew it.

We kept in light touch –he messaged me in October, asking me if I was still single. I responded with “Do you still not live in Seattle?”

He texted me on the Friday after Thanksgiving, then he Face-Timed me. He was one of those attractive guys who exuberated confidence. He was in the car with his best friend. Leon, who just moved to Seattle. When he panned the the camera to his friend, the friend said, “Who are you?”

I replied “Some girl Gene has never met.” They laughed and the three of us had pretty good banter. Gene and Leon were on their way to Barnacle, a cocktail spot in Ballard and asked me to join. I said I had plans- I was waiting to hear confirmation from Andrew about our movie date. Gene said, “So listen, last time you said you didn’t want to go out with me because I don’t live in Seattle. Well I come here often, and I’m willing to make it work. Because I too am looking for a serious relationship.” His confidence, normally unattractive to me, for some reason I was into. I said I needed to wait and see about my other plans. Gene said, “Give this guy another 15 minutes then come join us.” Confidence called me out it was a guy.

So then I called my sister and my friend to get advice. I called my friend and told her about Andrew, a nice guy I went out with once that who I would be watching a movie at my house with, or Gene who I had a good feeling about from our video chat. She said I should go with Gene because she could tell I was more excited about him. My sister said Andrew is the Peeta and Gene was the Gale – it was our Hunger Games reference for the hot guy and the good guy. I told her what my friend said, and that at least with Gene I could escape, but Andrew lives far away and would probably expect to stay over. My sister agreed we don’t even know if Andrew ‘Is’ the good guy. So I cancelled with Andrew (the potentially one night stand anyhow) and got a Lyft to see Christmas Gene of 2016.

I got to Barnacle and a short Spanish guy called out to me, “Gene is in the bathroom.” I sat down and put on my game face to impress the friend. He was awesome – I really liked Leon (platonically). Then a tall man comes to my side and gives me a very good hug – full body and embraced arms. Gene was tall, good hair and a light beard. He looked like DeLuca from Grey’s Anatomy and I was immediately enamored.

He stared into my eyes with a slight smile, saying it’s been too long and we finally met, rubbing my back so casually as if we’ve been dating for years. He was half Puerto Rican as well, and was shocked and happy to find I was.  The guys had put their name down to go to Walrus and Carpenter – a hip place in Ballard known for their Oysters and 3 hour wait time. Also, very pricey.

I learned a lot about Gene: He had slept with over 100 women, was surprised he only got chlamydia (his words not mine), just bought a house – seems he was showcasing his own pony. He said his mother would love me, and asked Leon to confirm. He talked a lot to Leon about me, in front of my face, but not always acknowledging me – that power play. Saying things like “I should have known she was Puerto Rican [turns to me] I was checking out your ass” and later saying “you have nice breasts – you can’t tell but I can when I’m looking down your shirt.”

That’s cool.

I realized, Gene didn’t try to ‘woo’ me, or court me, because his confidence gave him the immunity to say whatever he pleased. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this. I was running my diagnostics and It was still loading. The server came and Gene turned to him and said, “Give us your 12 best oysters and your most expensive Mescal.” Okay – it’s going to be one of THOSE nights. Gene and Leon started talking about Gene’s house in San Diego and Leon’s expensive $10,000 watch. Leon didn’t seem to be instigating this conversation but Gene was, doing the macho thing where he calls his buddy an “asshole” for getting a nice watch when his watch only cost $3,000. When the oysters came Gene went straight for them, and Leon had to say, “Hey man, give one to...”

Gen paused, grabbed one, and handed it to me staring longingly into my eyes, continuing to kiss me on the cheek throughout the night. I purposely gave him my cheek as I knew he’d go for the lips.

Gene would either give me so much attention, or ignore me completely as he talked with Leon.  It was all part of that hot confident guy game, and he knew he can get a girl in bed so didn’t even had to try. Unfortunately for him, I don’t think this would fly with me. However, I’ve got a blog to write, so let’s see what happens next.

The check came and Gene said he’d pay for me because I was his guest, so Leon only paid a third. Earlier at Barnacle both guys said my money was no good there when I tried to pay for my drink. So we started walking up the street to another bar. At one point, Gene stepped aside and said he needed to fart – and he did, loudly. He then walked up to me and held my hand. Seriously.

He would either walk ahead of me and Leon on his own, or stay next to me holding my hand or put his arm around me. He also was one of those guys who got off on talking to strangers, as if I were a college kid thinking, “wow what a crazy fun guy not having a care in the world!” But I’m 34, it came off as immature and obnoxious. He stopped a guy in the middle of the sidewalk just to say, “hi, how’s it going” – and not just a question, but actually made the guy stop in his tracks.

He then butted in on three young girls passing a joint, and started flirting with them, and asked to smoke and passed the joint around. The girls were eating it up. Later he stopped by a homeless man and just chatted it up, with a bewildered look of “wow what a cool story that bum had.”

We went into Percy’s and I got us a round of drinks. That’s when Gene stopped me and said, “Can I have a kiss?” and kissed me on the lips. What’s happening? He also shared a story about how he dated a girl and then they broke up and she got cancer, and he never visited her. Leon did, but he never did. She passed away and he regrets never seeing her. That’s a deep conversation to have on a first three-way date about a mistake you made.

We then started walking to another bar and this time Gene was on the give me attention kick. He stopped in front of the Sunset Tavern and looked in. “What do you think is going on there? There’s an attractive girl and an unattractive guy that looks like a date but – oh wait, she just gave him a high-five, what do you think that means?” I said I didn’t know, maybe he said a funny joke or they were on the same page. He said he thinks the guy was friend zoned – then he turned and stopped a woman who was walking. She kept walking, ignoring him, until he said “Excuse me I have a question – “ and kept talking. He asked this stranger on the street what she would make of this high-five and the woman concurred she thought the guy was friend zoned. That’s when Gene said, “I’m going to find out” and walks in the bar. Leon and I walked slowly behind, then turned and sat at a booth far away – I was embarked. Who is this ass-clown think he is? Seriously? That pompous to think you’ve got the right to interrupt the date and be rude? But of course not – he’s a charming mother trucker who can get away with anything.

Throughout the night, Gene asked me to spend the night with him. He was staying with his friend Leon, and I said I wasn’t going to third wheel Leon at his house. I offered him to stay at my place, but we wouldn’t have sex. He asked why? I said I rather not sleep with a guy on a first date. He then told me about several relationships he’s had with women who he slept with on a first date. I then said okay, what if I said we can sleep together, but then that’s it – no more dates. He said it wasn’t fair. I never made that ultimatum to a guy before, but as I said it I kind of liked it… I mean, if you’re really interested in dating me, would you give it up for a quick lay?

Anyway, we had this conversation twice throughout the night, about sleeping arrangements. Finally, Leon drove to my house and Gene says, “oh wow, let’s check out your house!” and Leon says, “No dude, let her sleep – she’s tired”. I said it was fine and invited them both in. Gene starts playing my piano – not well, but not horribly, but a drunken gibberish of keys. This probably went on for about 15 minutes, and I turned to Leon, “How long should I let this go for?”  A random drunk guy playing my piano… gets old. Finally, Gene gets up and says, “Wow, I’ve never played the piano before!” and then tells Leon he was staying with me because Leon snores. Why do guys need to come up with a phony reason?

Later he asked to smoke pot. I gave him some weed, and he proceeded to talk about how it’s the worst weed he’s ever seen: dry, and just terrible. But his tone was as if he was being sincere and just shocked. “Like seriously, I’ve never seen weed this bad I just… I can’t smoke this.” Oh yeah, though he’s a flashy medical salesman, he also grows his own cannibals in California – which he told those three girls, and said they should connect on Facebook to do business together.

So we go upstairs and Gene tells me he has to poop. I told him to use the downstairs bathroom. This is all real life by the way. I texted him “is everything ok down there?” because he was taking a while. He comes to my room and gets down to his boxer briefs. Yep, Gene had a nice body, and needed to look the way he did to get away with half of what … who he is.

“What are these pills for?” he asks as he picks up my birth control pills from the dresser. Anyone over the age of 12 knows what those look like – but he asked to sound stupid, so I can say I’m on the pill? I found myself growing more and more unattached to this guy. I hadn’t fully made a decision what would happen in the bedroom, but as the night progressed it became grossly clear the answer was: nothing. Nothing would happen. He was definitely trying – and I said no, several times. He kept asking, “Why? Why won’t you have sex with me?” I said because I didn’t want to. He said, “But there has to be a reason why?” I said nope. “Is it because you really like me?” I borderline laughed out loud, but instead just said “no…..”

“Don’t you love me?” I gave him the same answer: no

He began to pout. We ended up going to bed. In the middle of the night there was shuffling and somehow we were awake at the same time. Without getting too detailed or graphic, we’ve all been in the situation where we are in bed with someone, and whether you like the guy or not there will be some making out. Nothing will progress of course, but with Gene, it was a constant battle of explanation.

Disclaimer: this story may not sit well with some women. A guy pressuring a woman for sex, not taking ‘no’ for an answer, and coming on very strong. For womankind, I should have thrown his ass out of my house, right?

Why didn’t I? Honestly, I didn’t feel threatened and it seemed like more trouble to kick him out. At most I’d send him to the couch, but I was always able to get him pouting again and to bed.

The best part was, he spoons me and lets out an enormous fart. Yes, a fart ss loud I felt the vibrations. This wasn’t the first or second time I’ve heard him fart – on our first date. “Oh that was a gooood one” he says.

“That is so not attractive you know,” I responded.

“But it was a good one?” he said in a pouty voice.

At this point, he could be Brad Pitt and I wouldn’t touch his penis.

After that, I went to bed. In the morning, I got dressed to get ready for the day and he said he needed another hour of sleep, asking if I did too – a passive aggressive invite to come back to bed to him. Yes, I want to crawl back into bed with you. No, no I do not. I said I’m good and went downstairs. He probably slept in my bed for a good solid hour before coming down. He said he was going to call a Lyft, not Uber. That made me realize he knew where I worked, but never asked me a single question the night before – anything, about me.

He was complaining about the app - why it looked like his driver wasn’t moving. He suddenly shot up and said “My Lyft’s here” ran out the door and shouted “bye!’ without even as much as turning back – no hug, not kiss goodnight. It was almost socially awkward and strange how he darted out. Later that day he responded to my text the night before: 

We hadn’t texted after, until some time in January where he said he was in town and wanted to see me again. A week after he sent me a Snap of him drinking whiskey. I wonder how long this will go for? No, I can’t even ghost Farting Gene - I’ll let him know... eventually.

-November 25, 2017

Date #1 with BMBL Gene Suitors in 2017 YTD: 36 Dates in 2017 YTD: 44

[zeldahijinks]

Hi! I love your writing and I was wondering if you would write something for your flock sideways fic. If Revali goes to Link and asks for his help for asking you out/hitting on you. And Link (knowingly) gives him TERRIBLE advice like, "she loves pickup lines. Yeah, the really cheesy cringy kind." "Have you talked about yourself enough? She swoons every time." "Trust me Revali. Im her best friend." Hijinks ensue.

[A/N: Sorry this is super long, but I loved the idea so much and thought it’d be a great way to celebrate my birthday and having 200+ followers! Also i’m really sorry there are no puns, I am so bad with puns ;A;]Revali/ReaderWord count: 1715

Link is a decent guy that most would agree on.  Despite that he is a glutton and an occasional airhead, he worked his way to become the appointed Knight of Princess Zelda and the one chosen by the Goddess to keep evil at bay. He was resourceful, strong willed, and the kind of guy that allowed anyone to cry on his shoulders.  Most folks would even say he has a natural charm, and women crawl after him like starve wolves.

Revali felt violently ill thinking of Link like that.

As he stood from afar of the group he watched as you laughed and shoved Link’s shoulder, and Revali had to control himself from rolling his eyes too hard out of his head. He never understood how the two of you got along so well when it took him forever to even get on your good side, and not like Revali was totally ignoring that fact Link and you had known each other since childhood.

After months of struggles and dangerous missions Revali had found himself growing attached to you and thinking of you in a different light. These elated feelings brought him to the moon and back, but he felt hollow being unable to express himself in a way to let you know he wanted to be something more.

But as charismatic and talented as he was, Revali’s courting techniques fell….well, flat. He never had any interest in anyone before, not like now, where he felt his life would improve by taking you under his wing.

 However, he felt you were not the conventional person and that is why he is stewing like the dinner in the crock-pot you all were surrounded by. The closest person to you was Link, no one knew you better, but Revali’s inside felt like they were disintegrating. Did Revali really want to stoop so low by asking for his help?

When you turned around and caught Revali’s gaze, your smile made his heart thump against his ribcage and he looked away feeling bashful. Okay, he thought, perhaps for you it would be worth going through all the trouble. His moment arrived when you waved and walked away with Urbosa. It seemed like the two of you will be gone for a good moment and once you were out of sight Revali was hovering behind Link.

Link crunched his shoulders feeling a presence behind him and turned around to only be scared out of his wits. Revali looked at him feeling completely disinterested and spiteful, “I would like to make this quick, but I have predicament that requires your assistance…as poor of a choice that it already is.” Link only rose a brow and gave Revali a sour look. Revali grabbed the scruff of Link’s shirt and dragged him away from the campsite. Link fumbled around like a fool while Revali grumbled aloud, “Honestly.”

Revali made sure the area was clear of prying ears before glaring at Link. “You are well acquainted with [Name]. I believe they have mentioned knowing you since childhood, is that correct?” Link only nodded, and rubbed the area where his shirt had choked him. 

Revali only hummed, looking Link over and started pacing around him. One wing tucked behind his back while his other one waved around to emphasis his words, “Very well. I supposed you will do. As you know the Princess has been pairing [Name] and I together. Although there have been…hardships between us the truth of the matter is… I have grown fondly of [Name] and wish to swoon them. However, despite all my talents and charming personality; I lack, oh what is the word I am looking for, a certain finesse when it comes to expressing delicate sentiments.”

Link had zoned out halfway through Revali’s speech and was dozing off waiting for him to finish. Revali finally stopped in front of Link, his back turned and gazed into the stars, “It brings to my attention I do not know what will win them over. That is why-” Revali sighed heavily, “I am asking for advice. Your advice. Perhaps, I can bring some use out of you in the process.”

Link stared a moment, one hand holding his chin and hunched over. Now, there wasn’t many things that got under Link’s skin, but something about Revali poorly asking for help didn’t sit well with him, and, as your best friend, Link knew exactly what would woo you and what would not. Link had to prevent a smirk sneaking on his face as he realized Revali was giving him complete control. Would Revali listen to everything he said, he wondered, and stood up crossing his arms while nodding.

Revali coughed and straightened out his ascot, “V-very well then. Perhaps I shall start with the basics…” He rubbed the back of his neck, the feathers fluffing from the action. “What compliments would be suited for them?”

Link could feel his resolve slipping and tried his best to suppress the smirk that threaten to make its way forth. For the next hour, Link explained and gave suggestions while Revali, although he loathed to admit it, hung onto every piece of information.

Attempt 1: [Name] likes pick up lines

You had been sitting on a fence laughing away with Zelda and Link not having a care in the world while Revali was working up the nerves to speak to you. He’ll be damned if he allowed the Princess and Link prevent this opportunity and marched straight over. All the laughter came to a stop as Revali stood dignified next to you. You smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “Hey, Revali.”

Revali felt butterflies in his stomach and nervously spoke. “My, [Name], did you know you make me feel like a Lynel?”

Blinking, you just said, “What.”

“B-because when I see you I come charging.”

There was a silence between all four before Link turned around with his shoulders shaking. Revali felt himself starting to choke but he remembered Link told him that no matter what to keep going and no matter what you did it really meant you liked it. He tried to regain his confidence, opting to lean on the fence to get closer to you. “You know of my gale, correct?”

Fearing you’ll regret it, you asked, “….Yeah…Why?”

 “I am not the only thing it can bring to new heights.”

Link’s choking could be heard while you stare incredulously, “What the fuck, Revali. Ya weirdo.” You gave him the stink eye, lifting yourself off the fence and walked away with Zelda who was having just as a hard time like Link. Revali stood there his jaw to the ground.

 It hadn’t worked?? He looked over to Link questionably. Link only shrugged, trying not to let the smile be too pleased. Huh, Revali thought, on to phase two.

Attempt 2: [Name] dreams of flying

You bristled each time Revali approached. He had gotten some strange delusion that you wanted to go flying, but not on your glider.

On him.

Sweat began to form at your brow, crouched, and ready to spring away when an opening presented itself. Revali was exacerbated throwing a wing on his hip and the other covering his face, “Honestly, [Name], you are overreacting. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

“‘M not afraid!” You screeched,” I am just trying to point out all the reasons why that would not be a good idea!” He gave you a flat look, his wings held up in disbelief.

“I am much more reliable than that pathetic excuse of a glider!”  “It’s not the glider I’m worried about!” Revali just rolled his eyes and swooped for you, and you screamed bloody murder as your body lurched over his. What Revali was thinking you have no idea, but you weren’t even on his back properly, your legs choking his neck while the rest of your body flung around. Link was fishing on the other side of the hill when he looked over and seeing Revali and you spiraling to the ground. The poor boy couldn’t catch his breath when heard the screams of agony.

Attempt 3: [Name] LOVES music, especially banjos.

Revali was irritated to say the least, none of the previous courting methods worked at all. He was going to give it one more shot before he called it quits.

 Link had courteously let Revali borrow his banjo, and as Revali stood outside your yurt in the moonlight he wasn’t sure if this was a good idea at all. Revali knew you were a light sleeper and got absolutely irritated being woken up.  However, again, Link had mention that there was nothing more than you wished for then being serenaded awake. A deep fantasy, Link had claimed.

Revali glanced at the instrument and strummed the strings nervously. He wasn’t completely horrible at playing, but he was no master musician. He was dressed in his best Rito garbs, free of his chest plate and warriors’ kilt. He hoped once you looked outside you’d be enamored by him playing under the moonlight.

THRAAANG

A rude sound tore you from your deep sleep, and in the midst of waking into reality you were confused by what you were hearing.

THRUNNNG

Oh no, you paled.

No, no, you knew that sound. You rubbed your hands across your face when you heard singing accompanying the dreaded banjo. To your surprise, it wasn’t Link this time, and you were thrown into further confusion hearing Revali’s voice.

You flung yourself out from the yurt marching toward Revali. He was still playing when he noticed you approaching, and despite the nerves the threaten to freeze him, he kept going. It must be working! ….But then why did you look like you were ready to murder…?

You ripped the banjo from his feathers and thrashed it against the ground. You kept smashing the bloody instrument until it was in unrecognizable pieces and Revali had taken a step back. Huffing and wiping the sweat from your brow, you handed the neck of the banjo, the only thing left intact, back to Revali. He was left dumbstruck holding the broken instrument and watched you drag yourself back to sleep.

He stood there when a string curled off the neck, “W-why?”