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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 3 years ago

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part i, autonomy in your coherence | c.g

With something like time that runs round with the world — ignoring it’s inhabitants and stealing things that you’d hidden away for safekeeping — you’ve taken up the hobby of art, furiously sketching faces that are six-feet under.

The skill is beautiful and horrific all the same, watching like a person with amnesia as the portraits begin to lose their depth, the freshness, the personality that came free with who you’d chosen to print on the page.

You’ve forgotten your feelings for Carl, because he didn’t feel the same.

You just wished you did a better job at it.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, suicide ideation

this is a continuation of watch you burn away and i recommend you read that, first! this is also part of a series, so here is the masterlist if you need it!

(cross-posted on ao3!)

Your father once told you he had a patient that died from heartbreak.

“Your heart can’t really break, though, right?” You’d said. A doctor for a father and a laboratory technician for a mother made you more than aware of things, seeing through the myths and pretty white lies of figures like Santa and the tooth fairy.

(They had gone through with it anyway, because although their child knew, it was a gateway to normality in such a busy home.)

Your father scratched his chin, unsure how to respond. “My patient had died from a broken heart, though the process wasn’t as simple as it’s term name. A broken heart — the nonliteral meaning — can be the cause and the domino toppling to many things that could lead to death.”

“Like what?” You’d said with little admission into the conversation, having been flicking through a novel you’d picked up a while back (which featured a one eyed pirate and his partner who’d ended up dying in the end — not that you knew, yet, at least.)

“I don’t know, er,” Your father swirled his coffee lightly, gesturing wildly with his free hand, “Mental health issues, for one. Erratic actions, depression, a lost sense of self. Obsession.”

“Huh,” You muttered, looking up at your father for the first time. “A lost sense of self? Really?”

“What is your father teaching you?” Your mother said, stepping into the kitchen with a questioning expression. The conversation ended there, without so much as a thought after.

You wish you pried your father for further answers. What you’d give to get the workaholic of a man to dump his duo psychology medical major thoughts unto you with little care.

The knowledge would be gold in your time of need, when pulling and pushing distance further between you was like venturing through a field of thorns.

(Perhaps you just missed your parents. But that couldn’t be it, right? They’d died and you had lived, their blood on your hands and the gun in your fingers, their glazed over eyes and your own that nearly matched, cold and willing without a drop of emotion.)

But you’d gotten through it for him— without him. Without anyone, quietly harboring scratches and bleeding from the field with little effort.

If someone asked, you would tell them with full and honest confidence that you harboured no more attachments. You were a naive teenager, running through your feet and over yourself for something that was just a crush.

Crushes are — in their whole singularity and purpose — temporary.

They are brief, and momentarily something that causes ripples and waves in your thoughts, just the slightest mention or faint sight makes you detour down a road of sickly sweet dreams and fantasies.

He was first love (like? You didn’t love him, no, it was a crush and it was something for the unattainable and the inappropriate — in which with full truth, he was.) so you poured the honey glazed remembrances and rose coloured lenses over your memories, because he was a first love, and you know that those were cracks in the heart, growing vines and constricting the part that was him — the part that’d always, always be there, without a doubt.

(However much you didn’t want it to be.)

The leaves and the venomous flowers that sprout in decaying grooves come with age, and you are older now.

You bear fresh scars that litter your entire being and wear newly buried bones of people who were once not just that, the dirt still sitting in the crevices of your nails, and you seem to forget their voices with each passing day.

More and more, the faces look like reference art rather than a taken from life picture, which was all telling them to sit still and watching their eyes crinkle at the edges when you show them the result, voices echoing and asking if they could have it.

Everyday, as it has become a peevish habit like biting your nails or obsessively reminding yourself your stove is off, you draw pictures of everyone.

If you are close enough with them, you ask the subject to sit and model for you, analyzing every breath and laugh they take when you crack a joke or engage them in meaningless conversation just to see how the light hits their brows when they raise, the shadows pooling in their aging lines.

Everyday, you wish and hope and even fucking pray that their portraits continue to be something of anxious routine, rather than trying to dump their image out of your head and onto paper so you can see their faces one more time.

His image seems to change with each moment he sits in for you, once a face with two piercing blues, then a patch and eyes that looked at the dusty wooden floor, and later, someone who looks at you straight, something that told you he was a survivor, who bore his battles proudly, the scar on the right of his face sitting ruggedly and bewitchingly.

You draw him, exactly the way you see him, and when you show him the picture, he laughs, and says “You made me look too pretty,” and you shake your head, “It’s exactly the way I see you.”

You do her, too, upon request. When she sits, you draw her almost like it was professional, drawing the curvature of her face with exact precision, intense shading, marking the features she holds. The dip in her nose, the straight of her hair.

(You often forget who you’re drawing in these moments, and when you step away from the canvas you’re hit with whiplash. It’s subconscious, the way you do these things to please him, wanting to see so clearly how his face spreads delicately with delight.)

It takes a little while for you to convince Ron. When you first propose the drawing, he gives you a confused face, before walking off to do shooting practice. He’s gotten better with the gun over the years, and doesn’t respond when you tell him you know why.

(His mother didn’t come out of it alive, and his brother didn’t come back without harm. The younger boy was alive, but would grow up with only his brother by his side and one less limb to account for.)

The second time, he makes a snide comment, albeit with no bite, about how ‘you must be a horrible artist, to ask me of all people to model for you.’

The third time, you’ve dragged him to the small office you makeshifted for the drawings in the garage. He studies every slit of paper you’ve ripped out of your book, the unfinished sketches or yet-to-be painted canvases piling up against the walls. Complete works sit proudly on your wall, displayed for the world to see.

His hands hover over the paints sitting on your desk, charcoal, dirt, sticks, paintbrushes, handmade dyes, wallpaper cut-outs.

“Why?” Ron says curiously.

“‘Why?’ what?” You echo, fiddling with a fork you grabbed from the kitchen, splaying out a thick lather combination of beet dye and cement onto your finger to check the consistency.

“Why do you draw these portraits? I get the others because,” He says, leaving the words “because they’re dead” hanging in the air between you two in mutual and regretful acknowledgement, “But you draw these everyday. You drag Carl and Enid off, or just sit on the benches and draw Maggie and Glenn knee-deep in the dirt.”

You sigh a dreadful breath, wiping the rest of the beet-cement mix onto the page with the pad of your fore-finger. “We’ll forget them one day.”

He looks at you, unblinking. The dead, the gone, and the soon to be long forgotten only existed in your memories, in your words, and when the time came that the world had moved on and stopped, they would cease. Their whole memory relied on the living, nothing about them able to reach and grasp life on their own. Memory was all that was left, and it was all you could do to wash away regret.

“And the rest?”

You bite your tongue hesitantly, your movements rigid, “You see their portraits. Everyday they get less and less coherent. When — when time comes , these drawings will be the only thing getting me by.” You whispered.

The ball had dropped. Coping and grief in it’s big and ugly form, preying on your conscious hungrily, taking shelter in your largest worries. Claws sunken in your flesh, the monster was a thing that felt like it would never go away, because it would loom right alongside death itself, watching and waiting for the moment they’d deemed someones time to have been enough.

(It would never be enough. Enough meant they’d pop in from next door and ask to borrow something, enough meant they’d swipe dirt across your face to make you angry — enough meant they would come in everyday and sit for their portrait once more.)

A creaking on the floorboard caught your attention, eyes watching as Ron’s feet walk to the corner of the room, before hopping onto the wooden seat with little effort.

“I’m not going. I never will. But — do it anyway. I’d… like to see how I look on paper.” He said cheekily, picking up a thin pencil off your desk and handing it out to you.

So you did. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes snowballed into hours in the dim lighting of the garage, asking the blond to turn his body, stretch his head and make different expressions, fulfilling and destroying the little worm of worry sitting in your head.

When you’re done with the charcoal, turning it around for Ron to see and to inspect, he asks, “What about you?”

“And what about me?” You say. His questions never make sense without further discussion, but the boy always has to wait for you to pry and ask him to elaborate.

“You don’t have any drawings of yourself. You’re the artist, the photographer, the one who makes these things that will stay longer than the memories and the words — so what about you?”

It’s rare that Ron delves into his emotions and the things he really means, but when he does, it’s something that stays, for a long while.

“I,” You didn’t have an answer for it. You weren’t one to do a self-portrait, it not being the same as having someone to sit and take from. “I don’t want to.” You finished simply, an ice cold realization coming to reality in you.

“Why?” He says the same words as before, but the words hold a heavy weight.

“I don’t know.”

You knew.

Maybe one day, you’d wished that you’d wash away like seafoam on the beach. You wouldn’t leave a single portrait behind of you, and the memories and the words were left mum behind his lips, because you knew how he got in a loss.

Quiet and unfeeling, it was so selfish of you that you’d counted on how he got in that state to leave you behind, neglecting you like the fruits of your memories you’d never get to bear.

Ron’s gaze bore into you like he knew exactly what you were thinking, telepathically taking in every thought you’d conveyed at your dispense.

“You should.” Is all he says, before stepping off the wooden stool and out the door.

What was wrong with you? You feel so… entirely foolish. Obsolete. Embarrassing.

You walked past the remnants of those who were gone everyday, obsessively creating canvas over canvas of them and the only thing you could think was that you’d wish to position yourself beside them?

This world was catching up to you, and fast, but you’d just have to run faster than it could.

#twd #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #chandler riggs #angst #the walking dead #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead carl #carl grimes x you

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samstree · 4 years ago

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The One with the Coastal Customs

Geraskier, 1.8k, Fluff, Crack, Secret Relationship, Kaer Morons at their best, humor, Jaskier takes one for the team

Inspired by Friends. Read on AO3

Breakfast at Kaer Morhen is full of chatter as always. With Ciri and Yennefer joining them a few days ago, loud arguing and laughter always fill those once empty halls.

Jaskier picks at the rye bread on his plate, not paying attention to Lambert’s clearly exaggerated monster story, though Ciri seems completely entranced, prompting him to go on with anticipation.

His mind is still full of last night’s visage of Geralt pressing him against the wooden door and kissing him senseless. The witcher had to come to his bedroom after everyone else turned in so no one noticed. After the whole mountain incident last year and Geralt’s following apology, they thought it wise to keep their blooming relationship in secret for a while.

Let’s not tell everyone in a rush. Geralt was the one who proposed the secrecy. Whatever we have here is ours, Jask. I don’t want them to interfere or mess it up. You are too important to me, He said. Besides, what could go wrong?

Jaskier, at the time, agreed to it whole-heartedly. The witcher was so sincere that day, his golden eyes flowing with adoration and vulnerability that Jaskier could not deny him anything.

Despite some inconveniences, Jaskier has to admit it does make things excitingly hot. He almost feels like a naughty student sneaking out of class to make out with a lover again.

Jaskier’s hand comes up to touch the skin on his neck, the same spot where Geralt nibbed and sucked gently last night and left him a sobbing mess. Next to him, Geralt catches his motion with a look before a faint smile quirks up the corner of his mouth.

“Grape juice?” the witcher passes him the pitcher with the most unaffected tone in the world but his other hand travels up Jaskier’s thigh teasingly.

He has to choke in a gasp.

“…and bam! The third wyvern drops dead.” Lambert ends the story proudly, “And that’s why I’m the best witcher at this table. You have a lot to learn from me, princess.”

Ciri giggles as Geralt and Eskel chime in to call out all the lies in that tale. The room erupts in jabs and loud arguments.

Yennefer is the only one who remains silent throughout the whole meal. Her violet gaze only falls on Jaskier once, piercing with intent, before looking away like nothing happened. Even though their exchanges are a lot more amicable these days, the sorceress tends not to acknowledge Jaskier’s existence very often.

From the corner of his eyes, Jaskier sees Vesemir leave for the library. The older witcher still has work for him to finish today.

“Right, duty calls.” With a screech of chair, Jaskier stands so he can leave too. “I’ll see you later.”

He rests his hand on Geralt’s shoulder and leans in for a kiss. Geralt’s lips taste like the sweetness of grape juice and Jaskier revels in it for a moment before pulling away.

Everyone at the table is staring at him.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Jaskier freezes on the spot, a million thoughts going through his mind. Is it time to announce it to the world? They are ready for everyone to know and get involved, aren’t they?

But with one look at Geralt, he abandons the thought. The witcher has gone pale, and stiff as a statue. Panic starts to creep into those beautiful honey eyes, so subtly anyone else would have missed it.

Geralt is not ready.

Jaskier swallows. Well, there’s nothing to it.

He turns to Eskel, who’s holding a spoon mid-air and studying him with confused surprise.

“Eskel. See you later too.” He cups the older witcher’s jaw and presses their lips together. Eskel, the sweet man, even holds on to his wrist by reflex. He ends it with a pop before going around the table, careful not to trip over a chair.

Lambert can only be described as dumbfounded when Jaskier leans in, and incredulous afterwards.

“Have a nice day, Lamb.”

Yennefer looks at him with the same scrutiny. Wait, why is she looking smug? Fuck, the mage is looking scarier than the day they met. This one he might regret the most later.

“My favorite witch. It’s so good to have you here.” Jaskier opens his arms dramatically before going in, the familiar lilac and gooseberries filling his senses. Oh, her lips are so much softer.

When he stands to straighten his doublet, the whole table is still looking at him in silence. Geralt is tense as a statue while Lambert’s mouth hangs slightly open.

“Right.” He pats Ciri on the back and runs away from the scene, keeping his footsteps as steady as possible.

Ciri is the first one to break the silence.

“What the hell just happened?”

“Language.” Yennefer berates her, seemingly unfazed.

Geralt swallows a lump. If Jaskier is willing to go such length to keep the promise, he can try to look inconspicuous for a moment.

A blush is creeping up on Lambert’s face, but he tries to hide it with biting words. “Geralt, what the fuck is wrong with you bard?”

“Watch your language too.” Eskel’s voice is steady with amusement. “Why do you mind it so much anyway? He’s being friendly. It was nice.”

If Eskel wipes his lips casually with a pleased look, nobody mentions it.

“In what world is that friendly?” Lambert scowls.

“It’s –” Geralt clears his throat, “He went to the coast last year. In the south. Must have picked up some local customs. That’s…um…how they greet each other. In the south.”

Lambert stares at him. “Doesn’t feel southern to me.”

Geralt gulps down all the juice in his cup. When he puts it down, Yennefer is studying him like a predator might a prey.

“Interesting custom.” Her violet eyes sparkle with curiosity.

Geralt has never been more grateful for his witcher trials for allowing him to remain calm under extreme pressure. His heart still beats slowly without revealing anything.

They are fine as long as it doesn’t happen again.

It happens again.

Jaskier sucks at Geralt’s lips with heated passion, drawing a soft moan out of the witcher. Neither of them pays any attention to the flurries of snow falling into the empty courtyard around them.

“I’ve missed you today.” He moves down to Geralt’s jawline, and then his neck. “Where’d you go?”

“Had to repair the wall at the back, or the whole keep crumbles.”

“Hmm. Should have let it.”

Jaskier captures those lips again just when he hears people entering the courtyard, and pushes Geralt away with force.

It’s too late.

Eskel and Lambert stare quizzically at Jaskier, their training swords in hand. Behind him, Ciri is also in full gears, ready for lessons. The way she tilts her head in bewilderment is such a spitting image of her dad.

“Well.” Jaskier pats Geralt on the bicep. “Thanks for helping me clean the stable. That’s…nice of you.”

Roach snorts in the stable behind them.

He walks towards Eskel and kisses him again, and then Lambert. Boy he’s just noticing how tall the younger witcher is. Jaskier has to tiptoe a little bit. “I’ll be off then.”

When he passes Ciri, the girl just moves out of the way like he’s the plague. “See you, uncle Jask!”

Jaskier nods at her, carrying himself as naturally as possible, and enters the building.

The gwent is going great. It seems that Geralt is going to win again.

Jaskier yawns. He’ll never see the appeal of the game, so he just reaches over Lambert to grab the lute. Maybe a little practice will be good–

“Okay, bard. You need to cut it off.” Lambert stops Jaskier’s motion with a hand on his chest.

Jaskier blinks.

“I don’t care whatever–” Lambert gestures around Jaskier’s whole being. “– coastal customs you picked up from the south. It’s not…how we do things around here. We are not in the south and it’s fucking weird. So quit it.”

“Okay?” He blinks again.

“I know you like witchers more than the average man out there,” Eskel adds, “and you want to show us. I appreciate it, Jaskier, but it might not make us the most comfortable.”

“What now?” Jaskier looks around the room. Yennefer and Ciri are sitting by the fire with some magic book spread out between their knees, watching the situation unfold.

“Quit the kissing, bard.” Lambert scowls.

Eskel smiles politely. “Yeah, it’s best if you did.”

Oh.

Jaskier can see the two witchers are clearly not at ease. Lambert’s face is a ripe tomato and Eskel is acting way too formal with all the niceties.

“Okay. Of course.” Jaskier raises his hands in defeat. “I will stop assaulting you with the overly familiar foreign customs. Message received.”

“Thank the gods. It was disgusting.” Geralt deadpans.

Jaskier looks into those golden eyes he loves so much and wonders if he can express ‘I’m gonna put a pillow over your face tonight’ with a neural glare. The bastard only raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“If you do need to let it out somehow, Jaskier, maybe your friends at that fancy academy of yours are open to it.” Yennefer says, chill as the winter sky, “Or some of your lovers.”

Maybe Jaskier’s eyes are deceiving him, but he swears the sorceress glanced in Geralt’s direction when she said ‘lovers’.

The ladies resume their discussion about spells and magic, and the gwent game continues. Geralt does end up winning.

Jaskier plucks his lute, imagining a million ways for his witcher to make it up to him later.

Oh the sacrifices he has to make for this ridiculous man.

“The sacrifices I have to make for you, my dear.” Jaskier rests his head on Geralt’s shoulder, cuddling up to his witcher’s warm body.

“What sacrifice? I thought you were enjoying it.”

“They are quite good kissers though, especially–” He cuts himself off. It’s best not to discuss your lover’s brothers that way, or ex-lover, for that matter.

“Then what are you moaning about?”

“But my reputation!” Jaskier protests, “My name will be tarnished forever. Jaskier – barker and molester of witchers. None of you will ever let me sing your heroism anymore.”

“Hmm. Don’t you forget about Yen.” Geralt’s voice rumbles deep in his chest.

“Oh yeah. I’m surprised she didn’t turn me into a toad on the spot.” He plays with Geralt’s long hair. “By the way – I just have this inking – do you think, perhaps, Yennefer might know? About us?”

“Oh she knows.”

Jaskier bolts upright, looking at Geralt incredulously.

“Since when?”

“The day she arrived?” Geralt guesses, “I’m sure she took one look at us and figured it out. It’s not my fault she’s so smart–”

Jaskier picks up a pillow and throws it at Geralt’s smug face.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

Geralt finally breaks out laughing. He catches the bard’s feral attack and pins him into the mattress. Jaskier’s angry little pout is too adorable Geralt has to kiss it away. Uninterrupted this time.

“Is it worth it though? All the sacrifices?” Geralt's breath ghosts over the skin at Jaskier's throat.

The bard only glares at him for a moment, before letting out a sigh long-sufferingly.

“For you, my dear. Always.” He pecks Geralt’s soft lips one more time. “As long as no one turns me into a toad.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #crack #fluff #i don't know what happened with this one #should i tag friends?#monica and chandler are the best friends #geralt of rivia #jaskier #kaer morons

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populationtyre · 3 years ago

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Why do you reblog pride post’s while also posting transphobic and transmisogynist posts? Pride was started by TRANS WOMEN throwing bricks at cops. Maybe do some research before blindly following terfs? I feel like maybe you’re better than that but I could be wrong. Idk do some soul searching

pride absolutely was NOT “started by trans women”. that’s a MYTH that has been debunked multiple times. Marsha P. Johnson wasn’t even THERE at the start. He showed up after the riots had already started (yes, he. He self-identified as a GAY MAN who was also a radical drag queen). Sylvia Rivera was also not there at the start either.

It was a BLACK BUTCH LESBIAN —believed to be Stormé — who kicked it off by resisting arrest, and the GAY MEN in the bar threw bottles and drinks in protest (the bricks also came later).

i know you think i might be uneducated and have no idea what i’m talking about, but i actually used to believe the gender stuff too when i was younger. i believed it and wholeheartedly tried to spread it FOR YEARS. in fact, i myself was on the verge of transitioning as a teenager when i did some SOUL SEARCHING and found that i had just been regurgitating absolute horseshit, and took it upon myself to rethink some things about my feminism.

then i ACTUALLY looked into the information out there, i looked at the research and i listened to the stories and i read the books and had real life discussions with real people. i questioned what i was being told and i drew my own conclusions. and it wasn’t just an overnight change of heart. it took at least a couple years while i came to terms with the new information i was being exposed to and took my time to consider it and mull it over.

like, my dude, i come from a family of academics, and i have a degree in psychological sciences. i think i’ve got a pretty good handle on research.

further than that, i’ve been an active, passionate feminist for over a decade now. i’ve been writing essays and learning and exploring this topic for years. i’ve been exposed to a variety of feminist movements, attended a variety of feminist gatherings and consciousness raising meetings, and been involved in a variety of feminist circles. I’ve met with women from all over the world, from all kinds of backgrounds, and listened to their experiences. I also came out as same-sex attracted when i was twelve, and attended a bunch of groups and volunteered with a bunch of events for the alphabet community. we had our own dances and camps and trivia nights and regular meetings to talk about our experiences and learn from eachother and our elders. i’ve watched how this community has treated eachother, I’ve seen it first hand.

this is not some new hobby i just picked up in lockdown. this is not some passive interest. i have been active and involved and i come from a place of actually being informed, and continue to learn new things every day. if you think i’m just blindly following others, you clearly don’t actually know anything about me.

ANYWAY, if you’d like to do your own research, there’s some wonderful resources out there.

I have a few recommendations but I encourage you to seek more out yourself.

I’ll start with my favourite. It’s an incredible analysis of the mythologising of Stonewall, looking at the derailing question of “who threw the first brick?”, challenging the ahistorical reporting of who was there and how they were involved, and remembering the significance of homosexuality’s criminalisation.

«If Johnson and Rivera didn’t throw the first brick — who did?[...] Maybe we simply don’t know. It was a collective effort by a group of angry homosexuals.

All the Stonewall rioters, they had no reason to riot if homosexuality wasn’t criminalized. They would not have lived the lives they did if homosexuality wasn’t criminalized. Yet today, the hagiography of Stonewall is weaponized against homosexuals, used to say that homosexuals ‘owe’ transgender people their time, movement, and rights.

The brick-thrower, whoever they may be or even if they exist, did not then single-handedly create fifty years worth of LGBT activism. That was a collective project. It’s okay to acknowledge that. We do not need to mythologize the brick-thrower. I feel that any attempt to find the ‘first brick thrower’ or the one person who started Stonewall, or doling out credit for Stonewall marks a departure from historiography [source-based accounts and facts] into hagiography [mythologisation and idolisation]. No single figure was responsible for Stonewall, nor any single demographic, group, or social class. But one thing united them. At that moment, the moment the lesbian fought back, the moment the first objects were thrown, that one thing was their homosexuality — their love for the same sex. It’s time to re-establish that historical fact.» via Sue Donym’s ‘Stonewasn’t’ https://archive.is/tn6tl

More resources under the break.

Sue Donym also has an incredible archive of well-researched, sourced articles that are a valuable asset to the feminist movement. She got banned from Medium.com, but you can find her archive here: https://archive.is/eUOLD

Here’s a masterpost of TRA lies about stonewall: https://transgenderlies.tumblr.com/post/165438110827/countering-transgender-lies-about-stonewall

Here’s another masterpost of more resources you can look at: https://auntiewanda.tumblr.com/post/178824977986/feminism-what-kinda-terf-y-bullshit-all-that

And here’s a few neat little summaries regarding Stonewall, if you don’t feel like reading actual articles. But i do recommend you come back at a later time and actually read the articles, because it’s important for you to be able to engage with the literature and draw your own conclusions instead of having it spoonfed to you.

Here’s a masterpost of receipts regarding things the TRA movement has stolen and been disingenuous about.

Here’s the masterpost of all masterposts, on a wide variety of feminist topics, so you can look at resources and receipts to your heart’s content https://evil-wrongthink-lesbian.tumblr.com/post/652918840174460928/masterpost-of-masterposts

Here’s yet another masterpost: https://radfemhancock.tumblr.com/post/620852335187542016/masterpost-links-gendercrit-trans-people

Mind, you don’t have to read any of those links. It’s your choice what you read and what you look into and what you consume. I’m just trying to suggest that you maybe consider that you possibly haven’t looked at all the facts necessary in order to take an informed stance. If you read all these resources and still hold the same beliefs, then okay. I just ask that you try to look at some perspectives outside of your own.

Anyway it’s almost midnight and this is the longest thing i’ve written in quite a while so I’m gonna go tf to bed now peace XX

#radfem #radfems do interact #masterpost #reference #aj speaks #ref #radical feminism #masterlist

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mybg3notebook · 3 years ago

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Hypothesis: Gale proposes you to “cheat"

Another one in the long list of the strangest statements I've read in this fandom.

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in June 2021.

Let's proceed with the basics, because clearly, anyone saying that Gale proposes Tav to cheat has some faltering concept of the meaning of the word:

The definition of cheating depends on the terms that a couple or more members in a relationship mutually decide. In general, cheating is an act involving a third party that violates the standards or boundaries of a relationship between romantic partners. More specifically, it is a unilateral decision by one romantic partner to become involved (physically and/or emotionally) with an external party that is motivated by a perceived or real limitation in the romantic partnership.

Now that this is clear, let's see the facts.

To romance Gale, Tav needs to share the Weave, and this is a must. If Tav did not share it, there is no way to start a romance with Gale in EA. During the Weave there are 3 options that may lead to romance:

Imagine kissing him: We don't need to state that this is obviously romantic.

Imagine holding hands: At first, we can't say if this is a romantic gesture, but immediately after the Weave, Gale will describe this option as: "Amid the madness that has befallen us, it seems almost out of place to think of a romantic walk". So, clearly, it is romantic.

Imagine nothing: This is a friendship option, which in the Loss Scene unlocks a dialogue option for romancing Gale.

During the Loss Scene, if Tav chose kissing or holding hands, an option appears in which Tav can bring the moment of the Weave into the conversation: "Come, you know I care about you. I showed you when we shared that spell/The Weave". This is a reassurance from Tav. After the end of the scene, Gale will bring this concept again in his line: "I often think of that moment we shared together – one under the Weave. I'm glad to know you think about it too. " This means that ever since the moment of the Weave, Gale has been frequently thinking about it, knowing its romantic potential/intention.

If Tav uses any of the other options which don't acknowledge the event of the Weave, by the end of the scene Gale will state: "I often think of that moment we shared together – one under the Weave. I hope you think about it too." This time it is Gale who implicitly reassures that the connection had happened and had an effect on him: “it promises things to come”.

So, if Tav shared the Weave in romantic terms, the Loss scene will reinforce it. Gale and Tav are making a point that both are interested in what has transpired during the Weave.

If Tav opted the friendship option during the Weave, a unique dialogue option appears in the Loss scene: *You sense a moment of unspoken affection. You want to know where it may lead.*

Gale will subtly test the ground, carefully, to see if both of them are on the same page with the same intention. He will show somehow an “unspoken affection” that Tav can decide to pick up upon or not:

Gale: I consider myself very lucky to have found you.

Among the options Tav has, we find:

"I think perhaps we could be more than friends". Again, we can see that this is the obvious romantic option.

"I consider myself lucky too." A complete friendship-based option, in which Gale recognizes Tav as a good friend.

"Don’t get carried away imagining feelings that aren’t there." And this option allows any player to completely remove the romantic option here. It is not clear if this option can prevent friendship as well in EA.

As if this were not enough, after the Loss scene there is another confirmation of their romantic interest: the serendipity comment.

Then, the Party Scene follows. If Tav talks with Gale after arranging a one-night stand with another character, Gale will accept the situation without any reaction beyond some jealous comments. These comments are always available, even with an unromanced Gale, so I'm not sure if this is the way this scene is meant to be or it's simply there because its in EA stage. One can speculate that these comments should appear only in the particular case when Gale was romanced and Tav picks another character to spend the night with. Despite this display of jealousy after being led on, Gale still encourages Tav to follow their whims and enjoy the night with the one they picked

If anything, this seems to show that Gale would accept (even though he doesn’t like it) Tav's one-night stand, assuming that this scene, being in EA, is not meant to be in another way and we are watching an unfinished work in progress.

Once Tav sleeps with their new LI and talks with Gale about the bedtime story, Gale will propose to retake what had been left up in the air during the party. The player should remember that Gale has been explicitly informed that Tav had romantic interest in him. And if this happened in the Weave, that confirmation has been done several times. The player could have been clear with Gale and stop the romance during the party by choosing the option "Let me stop you right there. That's not something I'm interested in." But this option is sometimes not available depending if you speak with Gale first or later (again, the Party scene is very unpolished).

So far, what Gale has understood of that situation is that Tav had a one-night stand, but the commitment connection mind-to-mind and the relationship—will be established with him.

This is the reason why in the next day Gale says:

Gale: You spent the other night with someone else, and I hope it was all you wanted it to be, but… [romantic weave+ romantic loss scene] we shared a romantic moment of the mind while clocked in the Weave, didn’t we? And I seem to recall a fond allusion to that moment afterwards. [more than friends path] we had a moment, you and I, a moment in which we expressed the possibility of becoming more than friends.

Gale is accustomed to being only another name in a list of lovers.. He says it during the revelation when he explains that Mystra had many other lovers, and this fact did not intimidate him because, in his youth, "he thought himself favoured among others": he was the “special one”. So, from Gale's perspective, Tav has shown interest in a deep connection with him, so he clearly understands that the night with another companion is a simple, casual thing. There is enough context for Gale to think that he is “the special one” for Tav.

As a person who respects privacy, Gale will not use the tadpole on Tav to know exactly the degree of commitment they have with that person. He is merely assuming. As he explicitly says afterward if Tav says they will remain with the other LI:

Tav: I’m sorry, but I won’t betray *companion* Gale: I… I see. She/He ‘s a lucky woman/man. Loyalty is such a… such a very rare commodity. Dev's notes: Hurt by the player’s refusal. The reference to loyalty foreshadows Mystra leaving him. Gale: Apologies, I really did think you and I… Dev's notes: Hurt by the player’s refusal. Gale: But no. Perhaps it’s for the better. In fact, I’ll let you be the judge of that. After all, I still have a story to tell. Dev's notes: Composes himself.

From his perspective, he and Tav had been actively pursuing "a romantic connection of the mind". This rejection immediately makes him remember Mystra, so he alludes to her in the line of loyalty: he has been led on once more, similar to what Mystra did. For more details about Mystra’s style check "Mystra and her Chosen ones". If we see the datamining information gathered by pjenn, it's explained in the dev's notes that his comment of loyalty is directed to his experience with Mystra.

I don't understand people that claim that Gale wants Tav to cheat. Tav has been leading him on in many scenes and then, during the party scene, they changed their mind. Gale—like Wyll—needs a connection to engage into romance (and sex "intimacy); this means that if Tav never expressed their romantic interest towards him, Gale will not look for a romantic relationship. Considering his surprise during the Weave, we can speculate that this aspect of his life had been forgotten or at least, rejected, since he is stuck in the bad experience of Mystra and his folly with the “orb”.

For some unknown reason to me, these people love to spread the misinformation that Gale invites Tav to cheat for this situation. A plain lie.

What they think the game shows: Gale is asking Tav to cheat on their significant one.

What the game is showing: Tav led Gale on to believe they were interested in a romantic relationship. There is an option available during the party to make Gale stop the romance, but it depends on the interaction order chosen by Tav. After Tav slept with another LI, Gale will inform them that he is fine with that casual night and will propose to spend the next night together. Some people state this is Gale inviting to cheat. With the exception of Gale and Wyll, the rest of the companions state that such night is a mere casual encounter for pleasure. Shadowheart may be more obscure on that matter, though. In any case, there was never any commitment with the other companions either, so all that speech of “cheating on your significant other” is very ill-intended. The closest to a negotiation/promise we have ingame with any companions are the constant reassurances that Gale and Tav have several times along the EA and the subtle meaning for commitment during the explanation of the book of Arm.

Gale: A stolen glance- that sudden heartbeat... Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms. They promise things to come.

Gale: I often think of that moment we shared together – one under the Weave. I hope you think about it too. /I'm glad to know you think about it too.

Gale: I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace.

Gale: There is a book that circulates in Amn, detailing the first thousand nights of a newly-wed king and queen. They turned everything they did into an art. The art of conversation. The art of taste, time honoured and newly acquired. The art of the body. The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other. The art of the night itself. I say we take a page from their book.

So, if anything (if we truly want to force this concept even when nobody is in a relationship still), Tav is the one "cheating" on Gale, violating the implicit mutual interest in a potential relationship.

In conclusion, Gale seems to be very obvious in wanting a commitment that could prevent Tav from abandoning him like Mystra did. He has an immature idea that sleeping with Tav would increase his chances for acceptance (not by chance Gale talks about the book of Amn in the way he does. It's not mere poetry or euphemism in my opinion. He is indirectly saying he wants those many aspects that a married couple turned into art, he won't mind making this relationship a "prequel" of that book: one can interpret this line as a suggestion that Gale wants to end up in a deep commitment.)

When we analyse this aspect of Gale, we can see that words like promise, loyalty and abandon are a bit frequent in his speech, and it may be displaying the constant abandonment issues echoing in his mind. A final example of this can be seen during a non-romanced Gale who receives Tav’s proposition to spend the night together after arranging the same with another LI:

Gale: You are all too quick to abandon the one you promised yourself to. It’s not a quality I admire

Again, Gale’s character is strongly attached to the concepts of loyalty and abandonment. For more details, read the post about "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1", section: "Abandonment Issues"

This post was written in June 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

#gale #bg3 meta #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale

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missskzbiased · 4 years ago

Text

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (17)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Han X OC

WC: ~ 7,5,K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness

Notes: It’s Hyunjin’s Pov. I got to finish chapter 18 today. Probably gonna try to write some of 19 later. I’m posting earlier just because I’m really tired and I’m afraid I might be too sleepy later LOL

Updates: Tuesdays

////

HYUNJIN’S POV

You were being ridiculous.

You crossed your legs, sighing as you stared at both cups in your hands in wonder. Why would you be sitting on a bench on a Monday morning with two cups of coffee ─ well, actually one cup of black coffee and one of iced Americano ─ if not to wait for someone? It was so painfully obvious that for a second you thought about throwing them away in the trash and acting as if you weren’t a… You didn’t even know how you should be calling yourself now.

You scowled, getting up from the bench and heading to the closest trash bin, settled in assuming your usual fuckboy façade to try to approach Y/N. Why would you act differently now? It wasn’t like you loved her or something… Maybe you were a little bit infatuated by the fact that she could listen and understand you better than anyone else –

See? That kind of awfully awful thought… You should be ashamed.

You kinda were.

“Hey” Yeah… Of course, she would see and talk to you at the exact same moment you were about to throw coffee away for absolutely no reason. You exhaled slowly, closing your eyes to recompose yourself before turning around with a smug smile.

“Hey” You offered back in a husky tone.

“Did you scratch your throat or something?” She asked in confusion, frowning as she stared at your neck “You sound… I don’t know… Kinda different?” She said unsurely, hands trailing to her own throat and massaging it mindlessly.

Great… Exactly the reaction you wanted.

“Oh, no!” You cleared your throat, massaging it as well “I bought these drinks and I drank yours by mistake” You explained, handing her the cup. She narrowed her eyes at you, studying you closely before reaching for it.

“Thanks…” She said warily “What’s the occasion?” She asked, tilting her head, eyes wandering around your face before she sipped the coffee, humming in appreciation “This is really good!” She raised her brows in surprise, shifting her gaze to the cup.

“Well, I stopped by a café to buy some for me on my way here, and… Well, I remembered you have an exam today, right?” You smiled at her, knowing far too well that what you just said was bullshit “I thought you could use some real coffee today” You shrugged.

“I don’t have an exam today…” She frowned, holding the cup with both hands as she thought about it.

You fought back a smile, watching as she scrunched her nose and tried to figure out what was going on; lips slightly projected forward in something close to a pout but not quite. The way she held the cup with both hands made her look smaller than usual, and for some reason, you found it incredibly endearing. There was something soft spreading in your chest, some kind of warmth that made you want to wrap her in your arms and squeeze her but you ignored it.

Y/N wasn’t the cute little type… She would hit you for sure if you tried to do anything similar to this. You were yet to understand how she didn’t just kill you after the fake kiss at the stairs… You were lucky as fuck. She raised her eyes to you in question, making you gulp down. You had those eyes so close to yours… That nose brushing against yours… Those lips…

“You don’t? I must have heard it wrong then” You lied, sipping your drink mindlessly. Or at least, you hoped she thought all of it was natural and unplanned “Well, you like coffee anyway…” You shrugged, glancing at her as you walked together towards the stairs “Consider it a friendship treat” She hummed, nodding in mock acknowledgment.

“Why does it sound like a poor excuse to buy me something?” She laughed, nudging your side “It’s awesome to have two rich friends to pay for my stuff” She joked, taking another gulp of her coffee “I guess this one is pretty good because it doesn’t even feel like grumpy o’clock anymore” You laughed at this, smirking at her.

“Maybe it’s not the coffee but my company” You said suggestively, wiggling your brows at her, making her chuckle, “Or it could be the sugar” You said playfully, grinning when she took the bait.

“Not really, those from the stands are usually really sweet… This one is actually way more bitter than I’m used to” She admitted “But it’s g—“ You didn’t even let her finish.

“Oh? So you’re saying you prefer sweet things?” You could tell she knew you were about to make some silly input just by the way she arched her brow in expectation “If you want some more sugar, I can be your Sugar Daddy, you know?” You joked, fighting back your laughter as she grimaced at you, huffing.

“Really?” She couldn’t help but chuckle “That must have been the worst pick up line you have said in your whole life” She pointed out, grimace dissolving into a playful expression “You’re too young to be my sugar daddy, though” She reminded you, shaking her head in amusement.

“I can be your honey, then” You chortled when she choked on her coffee, pushing your shoulder lightly as she looked at you astonished.

“Oh my God… You’re a compulsive flirter, what the hell!” She whined, wiping her mouth “How can you come and show your face when you’re like this?!” She asked dumbfounded, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Did you look at my face? There is nothing to be ashamed of here” You joked, and she grimaced again in mocking disgust “Come on! You love me just like this” You said in a singsong “You said so yourself” You reminded her, making her snort.

“I do love you just like this” She agreed, offering you a small smile that made your heart flutter for a second “The amount of self-esteem oozing out of your ass is going to be my thesis’ theme, so I have to love it” You rolled your eyes when her small smile dissolved into a mocking one “I may even get a prize… I don’t think someone ever saw something as big as this” She joked, making you snort.

You opened your mouth to retort her but she beat you to it.

“Please… No comments about your dick and your hook-ups” She pleaded, furrowing her brows at you in disgust.

“Hey, I wasn’t going to say something like this!” You protested, even though it did cross your mind “I was going to smoothly change the subject to the book I couldn’t finish reading because I had to save Han’s ass that day” You threw her your best condescending smile, getting a knowing mumble as an answer.

“ I see… So you want the juicy gossip” She mocked, making you roll your eyes “I have the book back if that’s what you want… But the coffee and that not so smooth change of the subject make me think that you want to know more” She smirked.

“Not really” You shrugged, though you really wanted to know, “I just want the book back so I can finally finish it” You lied, and she nodded, clearly not buying your words “I mean it” You tried to emphasize your fake intentions but she just rolled her eyes.

“What do you wanna know?” She asked bluntly, stopping to rummage through her bag before handing you the book “We’re okay now… He needs more time and I’m okay with it” She summarized, zipping her bag close “Everything is fine and I’m late for my classes” She chuckled, hoisting the bag over her shoulder.

“So… He talked to you like an actual human being?” You sneered, and she threw you a look before sighing.

“Yes… He made a good point, to be honest” She giggled, remembering something from their conversation “He was afraid to talk to me about needing more time because he knew I’d go and try to convince him otherwise” She seemed to find it funny “Anyway… He has a lot to deal with right now, and I can wait for him to act normal again” She shrugged.

“I see…” You pursed your lips, patting the book’s cover distractedly “And what about Paris? She told me she kinda confessed to him…” You cleared your throat, trying to change the subject again.

She narrowed her eyes at you, suspicious of your question.

////

The book was good but that wasn’t the only reason for you to be here.

You looked around the library, trying to find an inner excuse to be here apart from returning the book to Y/N, but finding nothing interesting enough. You leaned on the counter, waiting for her to show up as you mindlessly flipped through the pages, clearing your throat to see if you could catch her attention on the back. As much as you felt ridiculous doing things like this, there you were acting like a needy crushing boy…

What goes around comes around.

Would you even imagine that one day you would be trying to catch someone’s attention instead of simply having it on your own terms? No. You wouldn’t. You could just return the book to her tomorrow ─ when you would see her in class anyway ─ but you choose to come to the library on a Thursday afternoon just to do it… Someone should be stopping you from being… A Han or something.

Ugh.

“Oh!” She blurted when she came back to the counter, looking at you with curious eyes “What are you doing here?” She asked interested, suddenly frowning and seeming to think deeply “Shouldn’t you wait like… I don’t know some weeks to break up yet?” She seemed genuinely confused by your presence, and you found it too amusing.

“Can’t I come here to visit a friend?” You teased, arching your brow as you failed to fight back your smile.

“I mean- Well, yeah…” She floundered, clearing her throat “It’s kinda unexpected” She admitted, chuckling “Not even Chan comes to visit me in here and he actually likes to read” She joked, and you leaned on her way, resting your chin on your palm as you smirked at her.

“Well, maybe you should pick me instead” You suggested, looking into her eyes with your best alluring look but the girl seemed to be built to ignore all your charms.

“You wish” She snorted “At least, Chan doesn’t jokingly flirt with me all the time!” She rolled her eyes, bumping your nose playfully before organizing some books on a desk behind her.

“Neither do I” You said sincerely but she laughed dismissively.

Well, you weren’t jokingly flirting with her… She was just too dense.

“Anyway!” You shrugged off, placing the book on the counter with a thud “I’m here to give it back to you” You smiled at her as she glanced over her shoulders “I’ve finished it and I hate to admit it but you were right… It’s really good” And you weren’t just saying it.

“Oh? Better than your drama?” She taunted, grinning mischievously.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself” You grimaced at her, making her giggle “But I was wondering… Do you have any more indications? I may have liked it enough to read some more…” You muttered, and she smiled knowingly at you.

“I always have some good indications!” She chirped “I knew you would like it! We have a section here that is filled with books that might be of your liking… Do you want to check them out?” She asked excitedly, and you had to fight back the urge to coo at her.

She was too cute for her own good.

“Well… Why not?” You shrugged as if you weren’t interested at all “I can help you out with those” You gestured to the books pile behind her ��And then you can show me this section… Maybe I’ll find something I like” She smiled at you, picking up the books and placing them on the counter for you to have access to them.

“Sounds great!” She said, studying you from head to toes “And kinda suspicious too…” She narrowed her eyes, a grin plastering on her face “First you buy me coffee and then you help me out with my work? Spill the beans” She said teasingly, and you looked at her with unimpressed eyes.

“If Chan was the one doing it… Would you find it suspicious?” You asked, arching your brow at her “You’ve been saying I’m too flirty and all that… But I’m beginning to think that you like to think I’m flirting with you, Y/N” You smiled condescendingly at her, tilting your head in a silent mockery.

“I didn’t say you were flirting with me now” She pointed out, grimacing at you judgingly “I said you were being suspicious” She reiterated “Maybe you’re the one who likes to think I want you to flirt with me, Hyunjin” She sneered, making you scoff as you looked away.

She was a too attentive piece of shit…

How could she be so perfect?

For Lord’s sake… You were wasted.

////

You were lucky enough to not be soaked to the bones.

You walked into the classroom, fingers running through your wet hair in a slow-motion that wasn’t really intended but also not completely unplanned. You didn’t mean to make it an event but what could you do? You knew what people wanted to see. You stopped in front of the board, fixing your hair as you looked at Y/N, licking the drop of water that reached the corner of your lips.

You lifted your chin just a little bit, half-lidded eyes fixing on your friends as you stretch your neck, letting the drops slid down your throat to your covered collarbone. You could hear some gasps around, and the quiet admiration fueled your ego as you shook your head to get rid of some of the water in it. You licked your lips, biting them before making your way to your seat.

You felt Y/N’s eyes on you, lighting up your smugness.

“Morning” You smirked, tilting your head as you threw her a look, eyebrows millimetrically positioned to give off the confident and sexy vibe you were aiming for “How are you today, ladies?” You asked jokingly, taking off your coat.

“Cold” Y/N answered mindlessly, studying you from head to toes.

You chuckled at her ─ making sure your voice sounded husky enough to enhance your attempt to look desirable ─ dusting off your shirt that was half-way opened. You noticed how she fixed her gaze on your bare chest for a second, though you couldn’t really tell what was going through her mind, and you smirked at her as she did. You opened your mouth, ready to tease her about it. The ‘Like what you see?’ almost slipping from your lips.

“Aren’t you feeling cold like this?” She asked in utter confusion “It’s freezing outside…” She added, tilting her head and looking at you as if you had three heads “Didn’t you see it was going to rain today? Do you need a coat? I can ask Chan to pick up something in my room” She offered, and you had to fight all your instincts not to scowl at her.

I can ask Chan to pick up something in my room… Tsk.

Unbelievable.

You glared at Paris as she snorted, looking at you filled with amusement. You grimaced, pretending to laugh along with her before sulking and sitting down. She pinched her nose’s bridge, trying to concentrate enough to not laugh straight to your face. You were surrounded by great friends… You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief as you buttoned up your shirt.

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” Paris asked playfully “Can’t you see that he’s too hot to be cold?” She mocked you, giving you a teasing look that quickly turned out in a pained one as you stepped on her foot.

“I don’t think that’s how it works” Y/N chuckled, resting her cheek on her palm and leaning forward on her seat to look at both of you.

“Don’t you think he’s hot enough for heating up the room?” She continued her teasing, and you had to breathe deeply not to slap the back of her head.

“You guys are so funny… Ha!Ha!Ha!” You rolled your eyes, huffing.

////

You should thank God for not being a spy.

You couldn’t really say you were doing a good job at hiding your newfound feelings ─ though feelings might be too strong of a word ─ from your friends. It was more than obvious that Chan would find suspicious the fact that you just fucking snapped your head to the mere mention of her name on the phone. So right now ─ as you sat on the couch, back straightened unnaturally ─, his eyes seemed to shoot a hole in your head to search for something in your soul.

“What?” You spat annoyed, trying to cover up for your slip-up with some fed-up manners that were bound to make him go away if you were lucky.

You weren’t.

“What?” He repeated fascinated “I’m the one who should be asking it” He chortled “You almost broke your neck just to pry into my call” He pointed out, brow arching up in suspicion. You pretended not to notice his narrowed eyes and musing; humming before he finally asked it “Hyunjin… Are you into Y/N?” the amusement under his tone was heavy enough to hit you like a brick.

“Please… What is there to like about her?” You scoffed, but Chan didn’t buy it at all. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning his back on the counter as he studied you with attentive eyes. You cleared your throat, averting your eyes from him before connecting them again.

“Well… You tell me” He sneered “I wasn’t the one who got hard because she was on my lap” He reminded you; the teasing mixing with contempt as he huffed “I also wasn’t the one who spent weeks fucking random chicks trying to get the idea of fucking her out of my system” You paled at this, the cold sweat getting to your palms.

“I wasn’t trying to –” He interrupted you with a scoff.

“With all due respect… I have known you for years, Hyunjin” He rolled his eyes “You have never once fucked so many girls in a short amount of time like this… And just after you had a boner like a bloody teenager?” He snickered, grimacing at you knowingly “It sounds like someone was trying to prove something to themselves and failed” He tilted his head, challenging you to say otherwise.

“To be fair, I didn’t fail…” You muttered grumpily “It was all good until she talked with me…” You were fully aware that you weren’t making any sense, grumbling like a kid that had just been separated from their toy.

“Care to enlighten me?” He smirked.

Yes, I do! Fuck off…

This is none of your business!

What do you have to do with it? Are you her boyfriend?

“There isn’t much to tell…” You answered instead, shrugging at him “I realized that we have more in common than I thought… And it felt good to be listened to and have someone who understands me…” You cleared your throat “I was pretty much convinced that it was just a thirsty episode after…” You hummed, trying to search for a good word “That week…” You trailed off.

“So you actually fucked her out of your mind” He chuckled, finding it funny the way you tried to be polite about it now.

“Yeah…” You agreed embarrassed “And then she started to go after Han and it got me really mad because… Well, you know” You rolled your eyes “She was trying to make it all better and he was treating her like shit and…” You glanced at him uncertain but as his smirk dissolved into a serious expression, you knew he had understood it “Yeah” You concluded warily.

“It doesn’t answer my question” He pointed out, and you sighed.

Would he be less attentive someday?

“So I kinda pretended to kiss her to throw him off…” You mumbled, and you never saw Chan straightening his back so fast before “But I had my thumb over her lips!” You blurted, eyes widening as he uncrossed his arms.

“You did what?!” He sounded more surprised than mad, brows arched in utter disbelief “And it didn’t cross your mind to tell me this?!” He chortled “Didn’t she punch you or something? She definitely can take you down in a blink of an eye” He mused, looking for any bruises on you.

“She didn’t” You admitted, still finding it strange “I guess I was too hurt and she saw right through me… She knew that there was something wrong and she wanted to listen to me… So we talked it through and…” You played with your hands, glancing at Chan in expectation “Well, I don’t know what else to say” You shrugged.

“Just say you like her” He suggested, chuckling at you.

And that was exactly the thought you were trying to avoid all this time.

What was it to like someone? You had asked yourself thousands of times already. Was it about what you wanted them to see in you? Was it about what you wanted from them? Was it about how you felt when you were with them? Was it about the understanding between each other? Was it about wanting to be with them?

You wanted her to see you as the best one out there.

Although you found this urge silly and embarrassing, you kept acting like a fool every single time you were around her. You thought that trying to make someone like you, acting differently around them, and trying to convince them that you were the best version of yourself… It was definitely liking.

The problem was that as much as you wanted her to notice you and see you under a whole new light, you knew that there was no need to hide anything… She knew the deepest and darkest parts of you and didn’t run away. So, yeah! Maybe you were putting too much effort ─ even if you weren’t planning to do so ─ into impressing her but you knew that it didn’t matter in the end.

She liked you just the way you were.

For you, liking someone meant to be obsessed with things that shouldn’t matter at all. You didn’t expect her to do anything special… You didn’t expect her to say sweet things to you, or take care of you, or run her fingers through your hair… Well, you kinda wanted it but it didn’t really matter. As long as you had her smiling and sharing things with you… As long as she could tease you and laugh with you when you guys stumbled over each other around the campus…

You didn’t want her to go out of her way for you.

You wanted to be on her way.

You couldn’t remember a time when you felt genuinely happy with a girl… You could remember being smug as you walked around with them as if they were your new trophy. You could remember being playful and teasing and thirsty… Well, you could definitely remember being thirsty a lot of times. Yet, you couldn’t remember feeling so… At home? You didn’t even know if you could actually say something like that.

It was like she could understand all of you and still welcome you at the end of her day. It was like she could set you on fire and give you some kind of light and warmth that you didn’t feel for ages. It was like being with her was an adventure and still, you didn’t fear anything when you were beside her.

It was humiliating to feel like this.

And you probably were a hell of a masochist because you loved it.

You had to be stupid to think that all that had come from a simple talk on a Friday afternoon. You knew it was much more than that. It came from years of being disgusted with each other… Hiding and searching for the greatest weakness you could find. It came from being vulnerable enough to open up and redeem yourselves… It came from accepting each other… It came from listening, sharing, teasing, healing…

You scoffed, nodding at Chan as you met his eyes.

“Yeah… Maybe I like her” You agreed, lowering your gaze to the floor.

The problem was that Friday didn’t show you how you liked her… It showed you every single thing you were trying to ignore until now. It showed you how much you have gone through and how much both of you were connected to some extent.

It showed you that liking wasn’t quite the word you were looking for.

////

The first step was to acknowledge your feelings.

Bullshit.

The first step should be you burying your feet into Chan and Paris’ heads so they could stop being so painfully obvious about all of it. Was it just in your head or were they actually working together to humiliate you right now? Maybe they were just too excited… To be fair, you couldn’t understand what was going on inside their heads anymore.

It wasn’t like knowing your friend’s favorite dish was a crime, right?

Apparently, to the two holy detectives that watched every single step of yours, it was the worst of the crimes; worthy of knowing looks and teasing kicks. What a great way to live your life. You deadpanned as you looked at them, arching your brows to see Paris giggling as she retreated her leg and Chan smirking in your way. You let a hint of disgust show on your face as you wandered your eyes between both of them, wondering why ordering Y/N’s favorite dish should be an event now.

So what that you wanted to please her?

“Isn’t that like your favorite dish, Y/N?” Paris decided to play innocent. The way you had to hold back to not kick her under the table ─ just like she had been doing with you every two minutes ─ was worthy of mention on Guinness Books.

“Won’t you go to the kitchen to cook it?” Chan arched his brow playfully, and you closed your eyes to breathe deeply, trying to stay composed. You opened your eyes to stare at him, lips quivering as you held back a grimace and laughed it off sarcastically.

Of course, Y/N laughed about it as well.

So maybe on Saturday ─ when you finally acknowledge your feelings to Chan after he invited her over for lunch ─ you had let it all go to your head and tried to pretend you were a good cooker… But did he need to expose you like that? What a great friend you had! You kinda expected Chan to tease you about your feelings but you also thought it would be something more… Private, to say the least.

So, I made it for you… You had said to her and as soon as those words came out of your mouth, Chan chortled, almost choking on his food, throwing you an amused look.

You meant made the order, right? He laughed, and Y/N giggled along with him, pushing your shoulder.

“Fucking hilarious” You snickered, scrunching your nose “You should drop Med school and try to be a comedian or something… You’re so talented” You added, utterly done with them.

“You make it too easy” Y/N mocked you, grinning as she rested her cheeks on her hands, leaning on the table “No, but seriously now!” She said, grinning dissolving to an attentive frown “Even though roasting Hyunjin is one of my favorites hobbies” You scoffed, rolling your eyes “Paris and I actually wanted to invite you guys to a party” You frowned at her conclusion, tilting your head, intrigued.

“A party?” You decided to make sure, suspicious of it.

“Yeah” Paris intervened, smiling at you “Minho got into a team!” She said excitedly, and you couldn’t help but snort, grimacing at her as if she had just told you the best joke ever.

“So what? We don’t even talk to him” You pointed out, getting a nod from Chan, who also seemed curious about their suggestion “I mean… Congratulations to him! But why would I go to a party because of this?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at Paris.

“Well… Han—“ You chortled, poking your cheek with your tongue.

“Really?” You sneered “So Han suddenly have the time and the urge to speak to you again?” You rolled your eyes “Unbelievable…” You darted your eyes at both of them, frowning “And both of you are going to go?” You gestured between them, arching your brow.

“And hopefully you and Chan!” Paris chirped, trying to keep the mood at the table “Come on… He was having a hard time figuring everything out and finally, something worked for him!” She pleaded, offering you big doe eyes that didn’t make you flinch a bit “Come on, Hyunjin! Do it for the team!” She forced a smile, and you sighed, shoulders dropping as you did.

“What in the hell makes you think that we would agree to go to his party?” You asked tiredly “You know far too well that I don’t like him… He hates me, he punched me, he hurt Y/N… I don’t have a single reason to talk to him” You enumerated, pulling one finger at a time as you did.

“He’s our friend, Hyunjin” Y/N reminded you “We’ll keep talking and walking with him and if you both keep hating on each other it’ll make everything awkward” You scowled at her “Just saying!” She shrugged “You don’t need to come but Paris and I really want you and Chan to get along with him at some point” You tried to hold her gaze but ended up averting your eyes anyway, tsking.

“Well… I don’t have anything against him” Chan shrugged “I don’t need to go to a party to hang out with him… I hung out with Paris wanting to choke her every once in a while for all this time!” He added, chuckling as she tried to slap his arm.

“Will it hurt you to go to a party, Chan?” Y/N nagged, rolling her eyes and getting a chortle out of all of you “I’m counting on your Daddy vibes to keep Hyunjin under your wing and prevent them from fighting” She pouted, trying to convince him.

Ridiculous and yet cute… What the hell.

“I don’t even go to parties to have fun… Why would I ever go to babysit them?” He grimaced, arching his brow “Moreover… Pouting doesn’t work with me, Sweety” He smirked, patting her hand over the table “You’ll have to try a little bit harder” He sneered, and she kicked him under the table, smiling obnoxiously at him.

“Was that hard enough?” She taunted.

“What about a deal?” Paris interrupted, trying to negotiate “If we convince one of you to go by the end of the day, then both of you will come with us” She smirked, throwing you a smug look that made you scoff, tilting your head.

“Deal” You shook her hand.

There was no way that Chan would agree to go.

////

So you had a party on Saturday.

“How the hell did you convince him?” You whined, looking at Paris in a devasted way as you sauntered through the campus, trying to find a bench to sit down. She chuckled, nudging you and taking a look at your face before grinning mischievously, shrugging her shoulders.

“I have my ways…” She answered mysteriously, making you roll your eyes.

“You’re working together to play matchmaker, aren’t you?” She stuck her lower lip out, tilting her head in a mocking way that said ‘who knows?’ and making you shake your head in disbelief “You’re sly as hell” You whined, getting a chortle from her.

“Come on! You clearly need it!” She insisted “You’re being way too obvious, Hyunjin! Paying attention to her likings? Buying her coffee? Ordering food and pretending to cook it?” She snorted, grimacing at you playfully “Trying to seduce her with a half-opened shirt?” She broke into a fit of giggles, probably picturing the humiliating scene.

“Look, I wasn’t thinking straight at the time” You scowled at her, pouting as you thought about it “If it really was that obvious, she would have said something by now” You pointed out, and Paris snickered, giving you a thumb up in mockery.

“Yeah! Because Han was so subtle and she totally figured him out” She sneered, and you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree. In fact, Y/N was blind to any kind of romantic feelings. You could come with a bouquet and a love letter… She would still find a way to see it as a great gesture of friendship.

You were too naïve for your own good.

“It’ll be so cute to see the two of you dating!” She chirped, eyes twinkling as she clasped her hands together, finally sitting down on a bench. She looked straight at you, waiting for you to say something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer her at first.

Dating? Who said anything about dating? You didn’t want to date her… You frowned as you looked at Paris, unsure of what to say to her as you cleared your throat, wondering how you should put it. Yes, you might be in love with her but… Dating? You snorted. A relationship demanded too much from you… Were you ready to attach to someone like this?

You didn’t think so.

“What is it?” She narrowed her eyes at you, suspicious of your behavior “Why do you look like…” She studied you from head to toes before settling her gaze on your face “…This?” She floundered her hand around, gesturing at you with a disgusted frown.

“What do you mean?” You tried to play dumb, sitting down beside her.

“You know far too well what I’m talking about” She accused, eyes narrowing once again “Hyunjin, by any means are you thinking about playing with Y/N as you do to the other girls?” She asked cautiously, searching for any sign on your eyes that confirmed her assumption.

“Never” You reassured her, hand going to squeeze her knee “It’s just… I mean, I don’t think I’m ready to go all in, you know? Yeah, I like her and all this… She’s my dear friend and I may or may not be in…” You gulped down, eyes darting at her as you cleared your throat “…to her” You finished, afraid to speak your real feelings out loud.

“In…To her?” She snorted, looking away for a second before throwing you a look “You’re in love with her, that’s what you are” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief “You never did anything like this before, Hyunjin… You’re the type of guy who has people throwing themselves at your feet” She acknowledges, and you shrugged smugly, a playful smirk playing on your lips “Tell me one time you tried so hard to get someone’s attention” She requested, crossing her arms and leaning back on the bench in a silent challenge.

Romantically?

Not even once.

“Exactly” She grimaced, looking at you as if she could read your mind “If you don’t want to date her, why are you trying so damn hard? What is your point?” She asked skeptically, tilting her head as you opened your mouth to answer her.

Just to close it again in wonder.

She was right… Why were you trying to impress her so much if you had no intentions of actually getting into a relationship or something? It was more than obvious that Y/N wouldn’t be the kind to hook up with you and then just go with it… As far as you could tell, she had no experience in love. None. At all. There was no way she was going to just go with the flow and… And what? What were you expecting from all this?

“Hey, Hyunjin” The husky voice got you out of your thoughts, making you realize that someone was standing right in front of you. Not only someone. You remembered her from… Maybe a month ago? You couldn’t even remember last time you got laid “I haven’t heard from you for a while…” She continued; tone still sexy enough to turn your smug façade on “New catch?” She asked, studying Paris for a second, a subtle smirk on her lips.

“We’re just friends” Paris voiced your thoughts before you could, jolting her leg for you to let go of her knee. The girl chuckled, tilting her head as she seemed to eat Paris with her eyes, licking her lips before averting her eyes to you.

“Yeah… I’ve been his friend a couple of times too” She joked, winking at you “If you guys are up to more friends…” She let her sentence hang in the air, shifting her gaze in a suggestive way that made you flustered. Good Lord… She was asking Paris to join your… Oh my God.

“No need!” You blurted out, getting up abruptly “I mean- Do you want to be her friend?” You looked at Paris startled at the thought, getting furrowed brows that answered you right away “We don’t need any more friends, thank you!” You rushed to say, getting a blank stare before she averted her eyes to Paris, landing them on her for a few seconds.

“I see…” She hummed, smiling at both of you mysteriously before throwing a few glances over her shoulder as she walked away.

For some reason, it didn’t settle too well on your stomach.

////

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you smirked at Paris.

“I’m telling you!” She insisted, leaning forwards to slap Minho softly on the knee “The girl just came out of nowhere and suggested a threesome with me!” She laughed, leaning back on the chair as Minho huffed in disbelief.

“There’s no way” He looked at you in awe “I’ve heard your reputation but… I mean- Where can I sign in?” He joked, arching his brows playfully as he chuckled. He crossed his arms, letting his body relax on the chair as he looked at you in amusement, tilting his head as he seemed to ponder something.

It turned out that Minho wasn’t as unbearable as you thought.

“You’re not really my type” You fought back a smile as he scowled, nagging at you as he gestured mindlessly for you to get off of his tail “I guess you have to be born with a pretty face like me” You joked, and he groaned in answer, throwing his head back.

“Is that what you need to get girls now? Have an obnoxious attitude like this?” He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief as he connected his gaze to you again, trying to hide his smile “You’re not really my type either, baby boy” He scorned, grimacing at you sarcastically.

“Who said he gets all the girls?” Paris teased, looking at you with grinning eyes that twinkled devilishly “A little bird told me that Hyunjin has a crush on someone and I haven’t seen him getting laid recently” You glared at her; lips quivering as you tried to hold back your frown.

“Wait” Y/N slowly raised her eyes from her beer, snapping them at you in surprise “You’re crushing on someone and everybody knows except me?” You paled, clearing your throat as you stared blankly at her, trying to think of an answer.

That’s how blind you are…

It’s not my fault you have such busybody friends!

Yep! Because that’s you.

“Aren’t you too interested in my love life?” You asked instead, trying to maintain a smug façade as you smirked at her, arching your eyebrow questioningly. She narrowed her eyes at you, seeing right through your attempt to change the subject. You hated when she did that… Yet, it was kinda endearing to know that she could figure you out like this.

“I won’t even begin to talk about how you’re always meddling in my life” She raised her hand as if to tell you to stop with your bullshit “You’re a fuckboy and you’re not getting laid! How can I not be curious about this?” She scoffed, making you chortle.

“I see… So you’re interested in my sex life” You corrected yourself, and she rolled her eyes “You can’t just live your sex life through me, sweetheart” You teased, pouting at her as she glared at you, clearly done with your teasing “You should have your own experiences… Actually having some sex instead of trying to stick your nose into my business” You chuckled as she huffed, poking her cheek with her tongue.

“Who said I didn’t?” She arched her brow in a challenge.

“What?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion as she gulped down her beer.

“Who said I didn’t get laid?” She repeated, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at you “I may not be like you but I had a share of affairs as well” She shrugged nonchalantly, and you could swear your jaw was on the ground by now.

“You’re not a virgin?!” You blurted out in utter surprise hand snapping to your mouth as soon as the question slipped from your lips “Sorry! I didn’t mean to ask that” You rushed to say but she just snorted.

“I always thought you were a virgin” Minho added anyway, sounding surprised as he frowned at you “You’re always working and eating hot dog… When the hell did you have the time to bang?” He asked in wonder, tilting his head “I can’t be the only one who’s not getting some here” He nagged, making you chortle.

“You guys are too naïve” Paris chuckled “Y/N was clearly the cool mysterious kid that had a bunch of people over her feet!” She reasoned, gesturing to Y/N to make her point “It’s obvious that she got laid at some point of her life! Just look at her” She stated matter-of-factly, giving you all a know-it-all look.

“Not really” Y/N chortled “I just got laid because I ended up hooking up with Chan—“ You could have choked to death right at that moment but as soon as you opened your mouth to gasp, Chan’s voice reached your ears, startling you to the point that your choking died on your throat.

“Hey, Sweety!” He called, interrupting her “Can you come over here?” He gestured for her to get closer, and she frowned at him, suspicious of his behavior “I wanna talk to you” He added, making her sigh in surrender.

You watched her making the way to Chan, attentive eyes glued on his figure as you tried to process what she had just said. So Chan and Y/N hooked up in the past? And they had sex?! You were kinda suspicious of them lately… You wouldn’t lie. The sheets all messed up in the morning? His comment on how she was like a beast? The way he inquired you about your feelings on that night? The way he held to the bulge incident? The way he spent over a week at her place?

They had to have something going on…

You clicked your tongue as you thought about it, furrowing your brows as she finally got to his side, being guided ─ and you didn’t fail to notice his hand on the small of her back ─ to somewhere more private. The thing that didn’t make any sense was that Chan was actually trying to help you out to get your feelings out of your chest… Why would he do that if he liked her? But again… Who said anything about liking? They could be just banging.

“Wow” Minho said as soon as she left, looking at you and Paris “So the rumors are true? They’re together?” He arched his brows in awe. As soon as he arched his, you frowned yours, confused by his question. What rumors?

“What are you talking about?” Paris asked, as lost as you.

“Haven’t you guys heard about it? I’ve heard Chan has been visiting her at the library and there are even some rumors talking about how he spent the night at her dorm” He explained, trying to find any signs on both of you that confirmed those rumors “Chan is quite popular, so I guess people just tend to pay attention to it… He also called her sweety right now, didn’t he?” You scoffed, poking your cheek.

“People talk too much” You reassured him “There is no way they’re dating… One of them would tell us” You looked into Minho’s eyes, shrugging “Never heard them fucking either” You added, shifting your gaze to Paris, looking for something that gave them away “So I guess those are just rumors…” You chuckled, trying to act nonchalantly.

You weren’t so sure yourself though.

////

Obviously I had to forget something LOL

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theharellan · 4 years ago

Text

Who Am I in Your Arms?

Written for Stories of Thedas Volume II Pairing: NB!Lavellan x Solas Prompt: Hair

In the aftermath of Wisdom's passing Solas takes the first steps towards moving on from its death, though this time he need not do it alone.

Trigger warning for suicidal ideation and depression / derealisation.

Read on AO3.

Light strains through the open window, highlighting the dust suspended in the air by the morning breeze. With each sigh of wind from the mountains’ peaks it rises anew, kept aloft in perpetuity each time it begins to sink to the bedroom floor. Solas watches from his back as the light that flows through open windows grows longer, reluctant to acknowledge the fast-approaching noon and all the duty that comes with it.

He does not truly know how long he lies there, looking idly up at the ceiling, neither dreaming nor truly awake. From a distance he recognises the sound of Mother Giselle calling to a Chantry Sister and sees the shadow of a passer-by darken the window momentarily, but these notes are brief and fleeting, skirting over his consciousness without room to take root. The doorknob turns, latch unhooking with a click, force of habit compelling him to look. His eyes meet Ian’s as the door swings ajar, and he suddenly wishes he had at least sat up before he’d entered. “You’re awake,” Ian says. Relief quiets the tension he held between his brow, a look too soft to be meant for him steals across his face as he settles beside him, the mattress sinking with a sigh beneath his weight. “I was afraid- I- I was—” As he fumbles with his words he struggles with removing a leather glove from his left hand, finding the thought only when the last finger was wrested from him. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Good.” His bare hand leans upon Solas’ cheek, touch cool and calming against his face.

“What time is it?”

“You’re needed nowhere for the moment,” Ian answers the more honest question on his behalf. “I just needed— I wanted to see if you were alright.”

It is an answer Solas isn’t certain he can give neither one way nor the other. He is of sound body and sound mind, and for many those two alone would be enough to suffice. “Thank you,” Solas mutters, having little to offer but his gratitude and an affectionate peck to his palm. Perhaps sensing the answer Solas is reluctant to give, Ian’s smile pinches, straining with concern. Guilt twinges in his gut, and he averts his eyes, penitent. “Ir abelas, Vhenan. I did not mean to worry you again.”

A soft laugh sighs through Ian’s lips, though it sounds sad to his ears. “You don’t need to be sorry, Solas. Not unless it helps.” He recognises the refrain as one oft-repeated to Ian, spoken in his own voice when Ian’s troubles wind too tightly around his heart. To hear it said to assuage his sorrows stings, no matter how much he may need to hear it. The hand at his cheek guides his gaze up, his hollow stare feeling all the more empty when beheld in Ian’s kind eyes. They scan from left to right, reading the expression on his face as though he’d opened up a well-loved book. A thumb scarred by gardener’s shears draws a smooth line across his cheekbone.

Ian’s hand glides around the side of his head, meeting resistance as his fingers cup the back delicately. “Your hair…” he says with a laugh in his breath, a hint of wonder colours his tone leaves Solas humbled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much of it before.” Fingertips idle along the nape of his neck, moving across the rough beginnings of an auburn hairline, but for Solas’ part his eyes remain transfixed upon Ian’s face. He memorises the way amusement works its way across his lips, until his teeth press down upon them, trying and failing to tamp down his growing grin. Hazel eyes fall suddenly to his and then away, pink shame heating his cheeks. “Sorry.”

Solas rises, detouring to brush his lips against Ian’s, which still bear the impression of his teeth. “You’ve no more to be sorry for than I,” he says, then as an afterthought grazes his hand over his head. A fine layer of hair has sprouted, coarse, like sharkskin against his palm. “And you are correct, it is long past time I shaved.”

“Oh, you— you’re… I thought-”

“That I intended to grow it out?” he finishes Ian’s thought, picking it up where he had dropped it. “No, and I suspect I won’t for some time.” He slides open the top drawer of his dresser and rifles through, not looking but feeling for his razor. Fingers brush against brittle dried herbs and crumpled notes too important to throw away yet irrelevant enough that he does not remember why they are here, rooting through the ephemera of his everyday life before they find what they seek.

“Typically my magic minimises the upkeep, but then…” He thinks back upon the last few weeks, how time bled together and one moment tripped into the next. Hardly a thimbleful of effort had been expended upon the simple day-to-days. “I suppose I have had other matters on my mind.”

Wisdom’s death still weighs heavily upon him. Though he had told the Inquisitor the powers which willed it into being still exist and there may again be a being who called itself Wisdom, it is a cold comfort. The moments they shared are now his alone to remember. In his grief he strains to recall every memory, summoning details of bygone ages, despair curling one cold finger around his heart as their edges begin to blur. Guilt bores into him as he tries to remember what face Wisdom wore the first time they met.

“Solas?” His hand must have lingered too long, his stillness speaking to a persistent pain he struggles to give voice, yet Ian hears it regardless. He releases the breath held captive in his lungs as Ian’s hand folds over his. Their scars align, matching together as alike rhymes in a poem might. “Would you like me to do it for you?” Solas doesn’t answer right away, mind too full of memories to fully feel the present, and in that silence Ian finds the time to doubt. “If you’d rather do it yourself…” he ventures. The hand over his squeezes affectionately, comfortingly.

“No,” he finds his voice. When he tears his sights away from their intertwined fingers, he discovers Ian’s gaze leveled with his own and offers him a thin smile. “No. I’d welcome the offer.”

Before he releases his grip on Solas, he pulls his knuckles to his lips, pressing them against the places where errant magic had marked him centuries ago. He feels the ghost of his affection as he pulls his hand back, thumb stroking the place where Ian kissed him to keep the memory alive upon his skin. “You should sit,” Ian says, motioning with his head towards the empty seat shoved in the corner of the room. It’s as near a command as Ian will ever give outside the Inquisition’s healing tents. “I can take care of everything.”

A simple sentiment, yet ambitious. His first instinct is to doubt, but not all the lessons from the past few weeks left bruises. Trust is a muscle that atrophies through disuse, stretching it again strains even on fairweather days, but he accommodates Ian’s command, sinking into the cushioned stool he works from on quiet evenings.

He watches in silence as Ian takes stock of his tools, hands touching each in succession until they are accounted for. As he pours water into a shallow dish Solas’ throat scratches, realising he had not had so much as a gulp of water since the night before. It is as refreshing on his head as it would be on his lips, however, spread by a wrung out towel across his scalp. Thin streams trickle down his neck and beneath his nightshirt, provoking shivers as they slide along the crevice of his spine.

“You’ve— there’s more here than I’m used to working with,” Ian says, hovering over the instruments at his disposal. “Do I use the oil before or after?”

“Before,” he answers, “I use the cream after.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Ian nod then reach for a small vial with a glass stopper. He pours a pool no wider than the average silver crown into a cupped hand and spreads it carefully over the top of his head, working the oil into the skin of his scalp. A few deliberate strokes and his eyelids grow heavy, head tilting into the sensation. A small snort of amusement issues from Ian’s nose, but he says nothing. With fingers still slick with a thin coat of oil he rubs along his hairline, feathering coarse hair with his thumbs. It scratches pleasantly in his ears, and he muses to himself if he may be persuaded to keep it at this length, on the condition that it were afforded this attention every day.

It’s a disappointment, then, when his hands at last fall away, busying themselves with the soap. He scrapes a few shavings into a shallow bowl and tops it with water measured with his eyeballs, working with the confidence of someone who has done this before. “These steps are familiar to you,” he notes.

“The last thing any surgeon needs is to close a stray hair in an open wound,” he says, “or to let it cloud your view.”

“I suspected as much.” What faith Ian has in himself lies mostly in his duty, beyond the walls of the infirmary it is as unreliable as the wind, and about as difficult to catch.

“I haven’t… this is the first time I’ve shaved anyone’s head, though. It’s mostly legs, or arms, or beards— sometimes backs.” The thin layer of bubbles quickly stirs to a thick, soapy pillow which rises higher than the bowl it was concocted in. “I never knew how much hair humans had until the Blight.”

The conjured image of Blackwall’s scurrying naked through Skyhold comes to mind, the hair on his back as black as his beard, and he spares a small smile at the Warden’s expense.

He strokes the brush over his head, drawing small overlapping circles across the top of his skull. Foam snaps behind his ears, bubbles burst by the bristles as Ian passes over a second time, leaving no inch of stubble uncoated.

“I don’t… I- tell me if it hurts,” he says. Setting the brush aside, he reaches for the razor, examining the blade against the light for flaws before he’s satisfied, although he waits for an affirmative nod before he dares hold it against his scalp.

It glides smoothly beside his skin, flowing with the grain of his hair. The scraping sound is no less unpleasant as he recalls, but painless. Ian handles the blade with a surgeon’s precision. He watches him from the corner of a hand mirror laid on the desk, every so often his reflection vanishing to wash off the soap and hair built upon the razor’s edge. A look of concentration screws his expression, the boughs of Mythal’s blood bending across his brow. Not so serious as when he works, the faint impression of a smile turns the corners of his mouth. The same lips he ruminates upon the shape of in the pages of his journal, the same smile whose corners he dreamt of kissing. They click apart, and, recognising the beginning of a question upon them, something within Solas sits up straighter.

“How long have you kept it this way?”

Their eyes meet through their reflections. Ian pauses to allow Solas his answer, wiping away the excess of hair dirtying the blade in a discarded cloth. As a question it’s innocent enough, but pries at memories he’d sooner bury. Like too many answers, he’s forced to weigh his head against his heart before he speaks.

“Not as long as you might suspect.” Once it was as long as his memory, and in each thread laid a name, a lesson, a thought. With each tragedy he sheared it shorter, until at last he could bear it no more. “What time I spent on my hair I realised I’d prefer to spend elsewhere.” The lie does not come as easily as he would like, even if— as had all the ones which came before it— it lies rooted in truth. He feels it strain against the knife when he speaks, pressure mounting in his temple, as though daring him to continue with his deception. Ian is quick to retreat, murmuring a soft reminder not to speak when he’s cutting, though he can hardly hear it through the fog in his head.

His first waking breath in this world felt like a dagger between his ribs. He choked on reality itself as he stumbled from his dreams, hair dragging past his ankles, tangled with generations of birds’ nests and hollow around his ears. It should have echoed with the dirge of an empire, but instead there was nothing, and somehow that was worse. His first cut was clumsy, blood dripped down his temple and sank into the creases of his hands, but he persisted. Each time he cut himself upon the sharp edges of the world it felt like justice, even if in his heart he knew it could never be enough.

Ian wields it without malice. The same blade which a week ago might have carved a red necklace across his throat now glides harmlessly over his skin, guided by tender hands that could name all the world’s cruelty but acts with none.

He swallows, throat thick with sentiment he’d believed too numb to harm him. Every day affection like he has never known rises in him like a force of nature, blooming with all the strength of springtime. If some small part of him had ever laboured under the belief that indulging those feelings would abate them, it’s been proven the fool. He loves Ian more now than the day he felt love’s first stirrings behind his ribs, but it does not come by him gracefully.

Love sticks in his throat like his grief. Tears spring into his eyes, the image of Ian’s reflection in the mirror clouded by droplets suspended between his lashes. He holds his breath behind his teeth to keep himself steady, pressure building beneath his chest ‘til he has no choice but to release. The sour, sterile scent of soap coats his nostrils as he measures his breath, careful not to let it hitch. As he hears Ian pause to clean the blade, he turns his face to the corner of the room to disguise his expression in the moments their eyes might meet through the mirror.

Love spills onto his cheeks, hands balling the fabric of his trousers as the first drop splashes his knuckles. The blade’s touch is as soft as a kiss upon his skin, scraping off the shadows missed during their first pass over his skull, and then set aside.

Love sees his sorrow and pulls him back against his chest, narrow arms enveloping him in their embrace.

A high, shuddering inhale whistles through Solas’ nose and though he reaches for stillness, today he finds himself wanting. The world surges forth like the first snowmelt of spring in the wake of an overlong winter, and he can do nothing to curb its strength. He claps his hand against his mouth, too late to suffocate the sob that wracks his shoulders, too weak to stifle the guilt-ridden cry that chases it. Ugly tears stain his cheeks, wielded like weapons to pry undeserved sympathy from the hands of his beloved, despite the effort he’d put forth to quell them.

A kiss crowns his forehead, ignorant of the guilt his grief springs from. An apology hangs upon the tip of his tongue, begging to be voiced and denied its release, knowing in his heart any forgiveness granted will be unearned.

Perhaps Ian hears the intent in the strangled sound he makes, for he moves to assuage his worries. Another kiss adorns his brow as he kneels before him, occupying the space between his knees. With both hands he reaches up and cradles his face between his palms, tenderly swiping away the sorrow from his cheeks. Their eyes meet through the veil of his tears, Ian’s shining with their own sadness as they hold his gaze. When Wisdom was taken, he’d held him just as he does now, until Solas remembered how to coax the air back into his lungs. So much had changed since that morning, and yet so little. Ian looks at him with the same eyes and holds him with the same hands. It is a disquieting revelation, knowing his worth does not lessen the more he is known; all the rage and misery Ian witnessed in him these past few weeks hasn’t lessened the love in his eyes.

From that love a cruel hope springs, born in the part of him which dares entertain the truth. Dares to ask if Ian would show the same compassion to the elf who had woken a year and change ago and mistook the world for empty.

The thought twists in him like a knife, and his expression contorts. Whatever peace he’d found comes apart at the seams, eyes screwing shut as tears spring anew from their corners. He turns his cheek into Ian’s palm, shoulders shaking with the force of the sobs he denies himself. Fingertips bend, coaxing him closer, and he obliges, nesting himself in the crook of Ian’s neck. The scarf he buries his nose in smells like his pipe and he can still bask in the warmth of the sun upon the copper curls that whisper in his ear. The hands that cut the bitter memories from his skin hold him without abandon, squeezing as he begins to weep anew. Protracted sobs wrack his body until his lungs ache in his chest, but Ian’s grip never falters, never fails. In his arms he knows himself as never before.

The shadows in their room narrow as the midday sun passes over Skyhold and the dust in the air mingles with what little hair he’d had to his name, carried upwards by the slightest breeze beneath the doorframe. In the sweepings he sheds his grief and carries forward what remains: his duty, his regret, and his love.

#solas #bi solas #solavellan #dragon age #nb!solavellan #( my writing )#i have found a home in him ( ian x solas )#suicidal thoughts cw #mental health cw #knowledge speaks‚ wisdom listens ( wisdom )#all new‚ faded for her ( quests )#( long post )

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snicketstrange · 3 years ago

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Rereading The End Chapter 13

Chapter 13: From the moment the Baudelaire teeth bit down on the apple—first Violet's, and then Klaus's, and then Sunny's—the stalks and caps of the Medusoid Mycelium began to shrink, and within moments all traces of the dreaded mushroom had withered away, and the children could breathe clearly and easily. The hybrid apple almost instantly cures the disease caused by the deadly fungus MM. This leads me to the conclusion that Kit's death was unnecessary. Kit could have been saved if the moment Beatrice Jr had her umbilical cord cut, she ate an apple. I don't know why Violet didn't even think about it, even if it didn't work out, I think it would be good for someone to have mentioned the possibility of saving Kit. "Stockpot," Sunny said, and walked to the rack of pots on the ceiling, where the snake helped her take down an enormous metal pot that could hold a great number of apples and in fact had been used to make an enormous vat of applesauce a number of years previously." This passage makes me even more certain that Lemony had read the island book, for how else would he know that precisely that cauldron was the same one that had been used to make a particular dessert years before? Certainly he read the island book and was able to compare information previously written in the book with the new information written by the Baudelaires. "Who was playing the violin in the candlelit restaurant when the Baudelaire parents first laid eyes on one another..." This description bothers me a lot. This seems to indicate that Bertrand and Beatrice met for the first time in a restaurant, however, I believed that one of the people cited by Lemony as B in the VFD school on TBL in Lemony's childhood was Bertrand. But to think that Bertrand Baudelaire first met Beatrice a few years after she met Lemony makes more sense given that Lemony apparently didn't trust Bertrand very much. In ATWQ, the way S. talks to Lemony about Bertrand seems to indicate that Lemony didn't know Bertrand personally or at least wasn't intimate with him. Ish suggests that all islanders leave the island after being poisoned. I always imagined that Ish actually believed he could save everyone by getting to the factory that produced the poison's thinner. But rereading the chapter today, I realized that his plan was to let everyone die. Those people had failed to produce a peaceful community, and he himself had failed as a facilitator. As I said, Olaf had triumphed. Ish apparently acknowledged his defeat. But for some reason, this motivated him to let everyone die except himself. And just as some cult leaders led all the faithful to commit collective suicide by making them believe that this was the way to achieve salvation, Ish also made his faithful commit collective suicide. The deadly MM fungus wouldn't spread across the world, and Ish knew it. He would make sure everyone was dead before they reached shore. I'm sorry for Friday... Ish has become a child killer. Friday chose to die rather than withdraw from her family's religious sect even though she was smart enough to realize that her decision would result in her own death. Daniel Handler makes the dangerous message in Ish's words very clear: "Your mother is right, Friday," Ishmael said firmly. "You should respect your parent's wishes." This time it wasn't a suggestion: it was something Ish said Friday should do. Ish didn't want to lose any of his faithful. Ish knew that apples could heal the island people, because he had read about it in the island book. He ate the apple himself to save himself. He really decided to kill the entire colony. And everyone followed him blindly to death. But did they survive through the apple that Ink brought to them? I truly believe Daniel Handler inserted that hope here just to lessen how dark the story was. He left that question unanswered. Lemony Snicket doesn't know if they died or not. But I'm pretty sure Daniel Handler knows they're dead. People refused to eat the apple, even when they were poisoned, even with the arguments of the Baudelaires. Why would they change their minds when a serpent that doesn't speak came to the vessel? Ish didn't want people to eat the apple, he wanted them to die. Do you really think Ish would let one of the islanders eat the apple when the snake arrived? Also, how much time did the islanders have before they passed out from lack of air? The Baudelaires were infected at the same time and had almost no strength... So, in a few minutes the chance of saving the islanders through a single apple brought by a mute animal would become close to zero, considering that the only person who would still be awake and with strength would be Ish himself, who evidently didn't want anyone to eat the apple. Now let's talk about Kit again. "How reliable is Snicket a narrator?" I think this question is asked many times and there are still people who will defend one side or the other of the issue. However now I realized that maybe we were asking the right question about the wrong Snicket. Kit Snicket needs to be re-evaluated with regard to her narration being trustworthy or not. It is true that the certainty of death often makes a person very trustworthy. But there's an important detail about this: Kit wasn't sure she was going to die. Kit believed that survival was possible, precisely because the cure was so close to her. "I hope I'm half as good a mother as yours was, Violet," she said. "You will be," Klaus said. "I don't know," (Kit said) I believe Kit's plan was to have the baby and then be a good mother to her. Despite that, she also knew she could die. Therefore, as death was not an absolute certainty, total honesty was perhaps not the only option. Now let's get back to what we actually know: 1 - Kit claimed that the Queequeg was attacked. 2 - Fernald went to Hector's mobile home with the object of attacking it and according to Lemony Snicket that's what he did. (See TPP chapter 8)- 3 - According to Olaf, the Carmelite Submarine was stolen by Fernald and Fiona. (See TPP chapter 9 In other words, while Fernald was fighting the Quagmires he had already betrayed Olaf and he had already stolen Olaf's submarine along with Fiona. Come to think of it, realize how unlikely it is that what Kit said was true. She said: "I failed you," Kit Said Sadly, and Coughed. "Quigley Managed to Reach the Self-Sustaining Hot Air Mobile Home, Just as I Hoped He Would, and Helping His Siblings and Hector Catch the Treacherous Eagles in an Enormous Net, while I met Captain Widdershins and his stepchildren." Then there's Quigley's difficult move to self-sustaining hot air mobile home. How did he do it? We don't know... But in the world of asoue amazing things are possible. But after that Kit claims that Captain W was already with his stepchildren. This contradicts Lemony's claim that Fernald was the enemy who had led the eagles to the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. So if Lemony isn't lying, (and I don't see any reason for Lemony to lie about these details when he could have just omitted it) Kit is lying. Fernald wouldn't have stolen the Carmelita along with Fiona, then gone to the self -sustaining hot air mobile home, used the eagles to attack them, then left the eagles there, returned to the submarine, met Captain W, regretted it, found Kit and then abandoned the Carmelita and then went along with Kit to help to the Quagmires. I mean... Is this possible? Yes. But this is very unlikely. Especially since Kit claimed to have been attacked. Did Kit Snicket have reason to lie? I believe so. The reason is that her hypocrisy had been exposed. When she spoke out against the mutiny, two islanders had shown the Baudelaires that she herself was also a violent woman. Now she needed to invent a story to preserve her image. In fact, even if she died there that day, she certainly wanted the Baudelaires to tell her daughter good stories about Kit Snicket. In other words, Kit wanted the Baudelaires to portray her from the best angle. So Kit Snicket lied. She denied having been attacked and taken part in a match against Fernald. If there's any truth to Kit's story, I think it's more likely that Submarine Q detected Submarine C via sonar. (After all, we saw in TGG that this is quite possible). Submarine C attacked Submarine Q. (Submarine C has tentacles that can be used as weapons at short ranges, as we saw in TGG). Kit hurt her feet in this attack, as she claimed to have happened. Fernald was on Submarine C along with Fiona. And the eagles were nearby causing problems for the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, which was right above. Then yes, the house fell on them. Then things can make sense. Both submarine C and submarine Q were hit. And then Fernald and Fiona were seen by Kit for the first time, in the water. I hope several kids also got off the C-sub in time, and Kit didn't mention them to avoid needing to give details about the fight she had with C-sub. "From the depths of the sea a mysterious figure approaching—almost like a question mark, rising out of the water." As we saw in TGG, this question-mark entity had been behind Submarine C for a long time. It was submarine C that attracted her. An important note: I am not saying that this was Daniel Handler's intention. He probably just got confused by generating these contradictions. I am saying that, given what is written, I think this is the best explanation. "All I heard," she said, "was one of the Quagmires calling Violet's name." That phrase always made me dream. Now I understand that DH's goal was probably to somehow strengthen the love triangle between Ducan, Violet and Quigley. But he did it at such an awkward moment that it made me imagine other, more interesting things. And do you know? I still have a right to imagine. In my headcanon, one of the Quagmires saw a woman inside looking like Violet. And he got confused, thinking she was the girl. And so he asks out loud, "Violet?" to which Kit interpreted that he was screaming for Violet. And that's my big plot Twist from asoue. Beatrice was alive all along, and not even Lemony Snicket knows it. That might not be true, but for me it's the perfect ending. Chapter 13, on the other hand, goes against my selfish desires. It's a chapter devoted to accepting death, and my headcanon is the exact opposite of that. The Baudelaires and Kit mourn the death of the people they loved. And they cry a lot more than all the previous descriptions. I think Daniel Handler abandoned all ideas about the possibility that one of the Baudelaire parents could have survived, although he honestly thought about it at some point. But as I've already explained, Headcanon are valid when the author decides to let the story have a life of its own. But I have to recognize that the story is better if you just accept how the story looks. Death is surprisingly simple. So I don't think the great unknown represents death. I think the great unknown represents the open ending of asoue and uncertainty about the fate of some characters. In the end, it doesn't matter whether the Baudelaires' parents survived or not. The fact is, they never met again in recorded history. Just like they've never met the Quagmires again. All these characters are in the great unknown. And like the publication of the end, the Baudelaires themselves are symbolically in the great unknown, as it doesn't matter whether or not they survived their departure from the island: in the end we won't have access to new official adventures about them. But the beauty of the unknown is that it stimulates the imagination. And it's interesting that in my imagination, Beatrice was already inside the great unknown when one of the Quagmires saw her. So, in my own Headcanon, Beatrice's fate is uncertain. As much as I want to escape from allegories to interpret asoue, the allegory is present even though the entity in the form of a question mark is a physical entity: the name given to the entity and its shape make it a walking allegory, just like the ants are a walking allegory for organization and work. We keep thinking: if it was God who created animals like these, would he want to teach us a lesson? And if Daniel Handler is the god of asoue, did he want to teach a lesson with the question-mark entity? I think the answer is yes in both cases. So, in a universe created by someone's creativity, entities can be both physical entities and allegories at the same time. So, I think that's what TGU is. And I don't see any more problems with that. It is an interesting fact to note that Kit believed her both brothers were dead. In LSTUA we notice that Kit was trying to exonerate Lemony of the Baudelaire arson charge, even though she knew he might already be dead, which may indicate that she believed Lemony could have died in the fire itself. Kit claims that the Baudelaire family and the Snicket family needed to stay away from each other, not just Lemony and Beatrice needed to stay away from each other. These mysterious motives must surely have been detailed in the letter Beatrice wrote to Lemony. So I don't think the wedding was canceled because Beatrice fell in love with someone else. I don't think the wedding was definitely canceled because they were life-threatening. I think there are organizational reasons for the Snickets and the Baudelaires to keep away from each other. Now the scene of Olaf's death. I have to say: what an epic scene! Whether it was Olaf who killed Beatrice and Bertrand we will never know for sure, but he never admitted it even when he believed he would die. He didn't seem to be willing to hide facts at the time. He seemed to me to list the things he managed to do. And Olaf always liked to brag about his murders. So for me the fire was accidental. Oalf bit the apple in order to recover from the MM fungus. He, like Kit and Ish, apparently knew that apples cure the disease caused by the fungus. He at first refused. Had he accepted death? I think so. Now: What was the relationship between Kit and Olaf? Everything indicates that it had been an old relationship. Something like a first love. Olaf did not apologize. He didn't think he was wrong. He wasn't sorry for his villainy. Kit survived for more than an hour, I am sure of it, before Beatrice could be born. A mother's willpower is really impressive. This excerpt below is for me one of the most important: "The Baudelaires would sit together in the two large reading chairs and take turns reading out loud from the book their parents had left behind, and sometimes they would flip to the back of the book, and add a few lines to the history themselves. reading and writing, the siblings found many answers for which they had been looking, although each answer, of course, only brought forth another mystery, as there were many details of the Baudelaires' lives that seemed like a strange, unreadable shape of some great unknown." This is clear proof that the Baudelaires left their own history on the island. Not only did Klaus write about it, but all three Baudelaires did, including Sunny who must have had enough time to learn to write. And Lemony knows they wrote it. I can only conclude that Lemony knows what they wrote, and it is on this basis that Lemony makes a narrative from the Baudelaires' point of view, even including an exact record of what they thought and talked privately. Another evidence that Lemony read this book is seen in the following excerpt: "As the night grew later the ould drop off to sleep, just as their parents did, in the chairs in the secret space beneath the roots of the bitter apple tree." Lemony knew details of what had happened to the Baudelaires' parents, which evidently happened when they were on the island. They themselves had written these events in the same book. Now, regarding the final section of the chapter: "In many ways, the lives of the Baudelaire orphans that year is not unlike my own, now that I have concluded my investigation. Like Violet, like Klaus, and like Sunny, I visit certain grave, and often spend my mornings standing on a brae, staring out at the same sea. It is not the whole story, of course, but it is enough. Under the circumstances, it is the best for which you can hope." I think it's pretty clear that Lemony wrote this passage while he was on the island. Lemony was visiting the same graves as he waited for an opportunity to leave the island. I will still read TBL again. So I know that Lemony wrote the letter to the editor of TBL after he learned of Beatrice Jr.'s existence. After he learned of her existence, Lemony searched for the items cited in TBL. So after that he went to the island and finished writing TE on the island. As I said, it is very likely that at this time the island was already inhabited by very nice people who did not allow apples to be removed from the island.

#ASoUE #asoue theory #asoue headcanons #The End #The Beatrice Letters #the great unknown #Lemony Snicket #snicketverse

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posi-pan · 3 years ago

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I noticed the other day that on the Wikipedia page for bisexuality, it includes a part in the beginning about how bi can be defined as attraction to all genders/identities, and “that is also known as pansexuality” and it just… ugh. It bothered me. Not the fact that some bi folks define themselves that way or the fact that some bi/pan folks do use the terms interchangeably, but the fact that it’s written into the Wikipedia like it’s just A Fact and that’s that, because… that’s not just that at all lmao.

Some people use bi/pan interchangeably. Some in the community feel they are the same and define them the same for themselves. That’s totally fine and great for those people! But not all of us do that. I personally don’t. I know a few other pan people who don’t, and a few bi people who don’t. This stigma that pan and bi are basically just the same or constantly overlap has been shown to be untrue so many times but it feels like no one ever bothers to fix it or correct it, so it just keeps spreading and it leads to confusion and can lead to even more pan/biphobia between the communities. Just because they are similar or can share similarities doesn’t mean they’re the same!!

Like, idk. I could be reading waaay too into it but putting it down like that, in a way it feels like they’re just implying pansexuality is just another version of bisexuality, instead of acknowledging that they’re two different labels that can overlap, but don’t always. If the article had introduced pansexuality in that way, I wouldn’t mind it as much. But it doesn’t, and it feels like it’s just putting pan as a secondary version of bi, and I just… really dislike that.

i just checked it and to me it reads as saying "bi can also be defined as x, and that definition is also known as pan" not saying "bi is also known as pan" ya know? idk that was just how i read it. but the way you read it is totally valid too. i can see where you're coming from and how it might make people think bi and pan are the same or universally interchangeable.

but in general, wikipedia is not fact. the things on there should not be taken as fact. anyone can make an account and edit pages on there (as shown by the recent vandalism of the pan flag page by panphobes/exclusionists that resulted in not only the creation of the pan flag being erased all together -at one point it said "found online in 2010" or something- but also the page being protected so only certain people can edit it).

i'm more annoyed by how fucking trash the pansexuality page is. there is so much pan history missing and literal lies, such as pansexuality first being used in the '90s. just because there's a book that says that, doesn't mean it's true. especially when there are countless sources proving pansexuality existed before the '90s. the people who add onto these pages don't give a shit about facts.

there are also paragraphs and paragraphs about how bi is being harmed and stigmatized by pan/pan people, there are panphobic arguments presented as thoughtful contribution, and a section about how bi is an umbrella term. just so much of the stuff on there came from bi people or sources about bi.

and it's like....why is this on the pan page? why aren't you discussing the harm being done to pan and pan people? the erasure of our history? the vilifying of us and our identity? why aren't you quoting us? even the sources for jasper creating the pan flag link to other sources instead of directly linking to their posts about it.

wikipedia is garbage to pan people but this is nothing new.

(i wonder how they'd react if someone added my pan week to the section about pan awareness day lmao)

also i'm sorry i kind of just went off on a different topic than what you were talking about

#asks #anonymous #pan antagonism #pan flag #long post

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1 - Of quidditch, detentions and birthdays

series masterlist

tag list for this series: @weasleysbees all George fics: @hufflepuff5972

if you’d like to be added, send a DM or an ask

warnings: swearing, mentions of wounds, slight mention of food, alcohol drinking

word count: 1823

a/n: hope it’s a nice opening that will keep you interested and give you the feel of the whole series; we couldn’t have a fic taking place during ootp without a classic detention with umbridge sorry

I’d love to know what you think about it!

—————①—————

Quidditch. You were decent on a broomstick, but the catching and throwing part has never been your strong suit. The summer sun was blazing hot, not helping you focus on the game. Suddenly Ron took a shot at one of the makeshift posts, the quaffle was speeding in your direction and you panicked slightly – lost your balance on the broomstick and dangled upside down. As you grasped the stick for dear life, the ball hit you square in the forehead, knocking you out.

“Ha-ha-ha,” you mocked George who was wheezing with laughter beside you. “That was years ago. Besides, it’s called the sloth-grip roll, you’re just not on that level yet” “No-no it was brilliant – you saved the game, you just weren’t there to see it anymore,” he tried to regain his composure.

You sighed and shook your head with a small smile. He gave you a wide grin and draped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to his side.

You were watching the try-outs together, not really paying attention until it was Ron’s turn. In the distance, you could see Fred juggling beaters’ bats behind Angelina’s back. “D’you think he’ll get in?” you asked curiously. He shrugged and made one of his faces, so you jabbed him on the side with a finger.

“Ron’s good, isn’t he? He should get in…” you worried. “Yeah, yeah, he’s alright. You’ve seen all those other slacks, he’s got a good chance,” he reassured you.

You crossed your arms on your chest and rested your head on his side. “I hope so. It means a lot to him.”

—————①—————

“Oh but that is absolutely ridiculous!” you exasperated, “It’s fucking torture..!” you pointed at Harry’s hand.

You had been chatting with Hermione, Ron and Harry in the courtyard, late afternoon, and noticed the wound on his hand, then made them explain everything in detail. It made you furious.

“First they try to make us dumb, then re-shape us - using violence?!” you whisper-yelled, then noticed three’s terrified expressions.

“Eh hem” you heard behind your back. “Oh for fucks sake…” you mouthed silently and slouched your shoulders, sighing in defeat. “Miss Y/L/N, is it?” She knew your name well, although up until this point you tried not to step out of line, from the very first lesson with Umbridge you showed your dissatisfaction with the new regime rules. Much to Fred and George’s amusement as you usually tried to avoid conflict whenever possible.

With a stoic expression, you turned on your heel to face her. “Yes, professor?” “You have to agree this kind of language does not suit a young witch like yourself. It is in your best interest that we work on your attitude a bit as well. I’ll see you in my office after dinner, dear,” she finished with that sickening smile and walked off.

Defeated, you approached George and Fred at the table and sat down in silence. They glanced at you curiously. “Why the long face, sweet cheeks?” Fred asked, making you snicker and a small smile broke out on your face. “I-“ you elongated, “had an encounter with Umbridge.” “Oof..” grimaced George. “Yikes, you looked like you were about to maul her last class. Too bad I wasn’t there to see it this time around, what’d you do?” Fred propped his chin on his palm, abandoning the food. “She appeared behind my back in the middle of my tirade about her,” another set of oofs and acknowledging nods, “a strong-worded one…” “Oh this is brilliant, why weren’t we there…” Fred expressed with amusement.

George found the situation quite funny as well but was less expressive about it because he felt bad for you just a bit more than his twin. “I-I... I’m sure you can imagine,” you tried to drop the topic, getting busy with the plate in front of you. They didn’t know about her method of discipline and you weren’t keen on letting them know. “Tsk- whatever, don’t tell your best friends,” he pouted, then brought the conversation to their newest developments with the Skiving Snackboxes.

‘I will respect my superiors’ was written out underneath a bandage on your left hand. You’ve been successfully hiding it for almost a week, telling George you cut yourself during potions.

You felt a sharp pain and winced as he grabbed your hand to speed you up on your way to hang out by the lake. “Oh, sorry, Cherry!” he apologized immediately and stroked your hand delicately with concern, “I forgot…” You smiled at him reassuringly, “It’s alright.” “Does it still hurt so much..?” he frowned slightly, confused, “It should’ve started healing by now…”

It would’ve if you hadn’t spent every evening in the toad’s office.

You shrugged dismissively and started walking again, George following. “I don’t think that’s good, Y/N. Maybe you should go to Pomfrey..?” “Noo, it’s fine, I’m sure it’ll heal in no time,” – just a couple more days of detention, you thought. “Well, let me see it, at least,” he said softly and you felt faint. Not only would he find out about the black quill and freak out, but you also hid it from him, deliberately, lied even.

“Y/N” he repeated in a more serious tone. “George, it’s fine, really” you still tried to shrug it off, knowing well it was a lost cause. He sensed something was off. He stopped walking, expecting you to do the same. When you looked at him, he reached out his hand for you to show him the bandage and you obliged.

You held your breath as he unwrapped the dressing. You only dared to look up at him after a few long seconds of silence.

His eyes were still trained on the words, jaw clenched and he started caressing the skin around the wound with his thumb.

He then looked at you and you spoke without words.

You were sorry for not telling him.

He was disappointed but concerned about you.

You wanted to reassure him you were holding up okay.

And he was furious with Umbridge.

“Ferula,” he cast and put his wand away as your hand got wrapped up in clean bandages.

“Please, don’t do anything stupid now…” you worried, “I don’t need revenge.” He smirked a bit, but remained rather serious, “You’ve known me for too long…”

He let go of your hand and resumed walking, putting his hands in his pockets. “I mean it, Georgie. It will have changed nothing and it’s no good if she just makes you write those stupid lines too.” You sighed, “Promise me you’ll be more careful around her. And Fred too.” “Brave of you to assume I can control him,” he snickered, making you smile. “but I can try if that’ll make you happy.” “Thank you,” you said with a big grin, wrapping your arm around his. “Speeaaking of making you happy,” he paused for emphasis, looking up into the sky, “your birthday’s coming up. You didn’t make any plans, did you?” “Mmm, depends what you’re offering.”

—————①—————

Your birthday was in the middle of the week this year, so you planned to have a proper party over the weekend. And the evening of the actual birthday, George booked for himself.

It was late, you took a shower and as per instructions – changed into comfy PJs. Excited, you walked down the steps and into the common room.

There were only a few last stragglers left in there, buried in rolls of parchment, probably writing last-minute essays.

No George in sight.

Next to the couch in front of the fire, you saw blankets and pillows spread out, and some snacks on the coffee table. Walking up closer you noticed a little note in George’s hand-writing:

Do not touch or you’ll regret it

You chuckled under your breath and the round door opened, revealing George with two mugs in hands. He was also wearing some pyjama pants and a comfy jumper.

“Heeey!” he greeted with a wide grin. “Good evening” you replied with a smile and a little nod. “That all you?” you gestured at the table as he set down the mugs. “Unless you want to count Fred’s snickering as help,” he complained sitting down and you did the same.

“Oooh, hot chocolate..!” you exclaimed leaning over the mug in front of you.

George reached behind him and revealed a bottle of firewhisky and you chuckled. “For a bit of kick.” He opened the bottle, then hovered it over your mug and glanced at you, asking for permission and you nodded.

He poured a little bit into both mugs.

“Happy seventeen!” he toasted and you clinked delicately, not to spill the hot liquid, then gave it a taste, letting its warmth pour through your bodies.

“How was your day, Cherry?” he asked, getting comfy on the pillows and wrapping both his hands around the warm mug.

You didn’t see him much that day, with the exception of meals, as you took many more N.E.W.T. classes than him.

“Alright. Went by quickly. Snape wished me a happy birthday.” “Oooh” “Yeah, I don’t know if he was being sarcastic or not. Knowing him, he could be, even with birthday wishes… how about you?” you took another sip of the hot chocolate. “Mmm... We might be getting closer to figuring out how to stop the nosebleeds,” he opened a box of biscuits, “but we need to read up on it a bit more before testing it.”

“That’s not the end of my surprises,” he said after you finished the conversation about nosebleed nougats, standing up for a moment to retrieve a small packaging he then presented to you with a giddy smile. You placed it in your lap and let your hands ghost over the ribbon, “I was about to say you didn’t have to, but then I remembered you’re a rich business owner now.” you teased him, earning a small laugh. He bit his lip and waited for you to continue.

It was a book, the newest tome of a series you and George would geek out about together. It had just come out.

Screeching out of joy you tackled him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You managed to get it already?!” you questioned. “Yup. Blood, sweat and tears it cost me, but I’ve got it,” he said proudly. “Thank you, Georgie” you gave him one last squeeze and pulled away to admire the book once more. “You’re welcome, love. D’you wanna start reading it tonight?” he asked with clear excitement in his voice. You nodded and opened the book on the first page right away.

You stayed up late that night, taking turns in reading out loud for as long as you were able to fight off the tiredness. Eventually, it was just the two of you, immersed in your favourite fantasy adventure, the soft crackling of the fire serving as a background.

You couldn’t have asked for a better seventeenth birthday.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #hp imagine

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 4 years ago

Text

Crisis Averted

Summary: Shit hits the fan after Dean finds out that Reader and Sam have slept together. Crisis is averted once Reader has a chat with Dean about it.

TW/CW: Platonic!Reader x Sam & Dean Winchester. References to Sam and Reader sleeping together.

Requested?: Yes! A lovely Anon said, “Hi! Idk if you’re doing requests BUTTT if you are, I was wondering if you could do like a platonic one where you and the boys hunt together and have become like family but dean finds out through the Supernatural books/the internet or whatever that you and Sam hooked up the very first night you guys met.”

Word Count: 1,468

A/N: So I have a lot of Anons that request and I was just thinking maybe I should give you all a cool special name or something (any other followers could also be called by said name if that’s a thing that you all would like). Why was the first thing to pop into my head Tonics??? Like then we’d be Gin and Tonics.... Idk thoughts? As for this imagine, I kind of feel like it’s a little off for some reason but I hope you all enjoy the reader anyway. Love to all!

Your POV I sleepily shuffle to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee. I take a sip before yawning and stretching on my way to join the boys. I plop down into one of the chairs at the table and drop my head onto its surface as Sam chuckles, “Wow, I think that’s a record, 2pm is the earliest I’ve ever seen you get up the morning after returning from a hunt.”

I look up to glare at him as Dean grumbles something under his breath but all I caught from it was, “You would know.” Shrugging, I pull one of the various lore books spread across the tablet closer to me and open it up. We’re currently working on tracking down a demon who Crowley wants dead. The damn thing is literally off the radar so were looking for a new way of tracking it. Why the boys decided to do this for Crowley, I don’t know but it’s time consuming nonetheless. If it weren’t for the three of us being on the brink of insanity from being cooped up in the bunker we wouldn’t have gone on the aforementioned hunt. I flip through a few pages of the old, musty book before sighing, “I need food before I can try to focus on any of this.”

“There’s not much left in the fridge,” Sam responds.

I weigh the options for a moment before deciding, “I’m gonna run to the store and pick up food on the way back. Text me want you want, will you?” Sam nods but Dean doesn’t bother acknowledging anything as I get up and head to my room to change out of my pajamas. I have tendency to wander around the bunker in my pajamas if I know we shouldn’t be going anywhere that day. Sometimes it’s a bad idea though because it leads me to curling up in an armchair and falling asleep when I should be studying lore. Once I’ve thrown on the usual unofficial hunters' uniform i.e. a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a flannel, a leather jacket, and some boots, I head to back through the bunker and to the garage. Knowing it’s not advisable to get groceries while riding my motorcycle, I opt to take my 1967 Camaro instead.

Climbing into my car, I immediately grab a Metallica CD and pop it in before cranking the car. I notice that my gas gauge is rather low and make a mental note to stop for gas while I’m out as well. It feels nice to be back in my own Baby after riding with Sam and Dean for so long on cases. I got this car when I was sixteen and it has been a great companion ever since. If it weren’t for this car, I probably wouldn’t have met Sam and Dean. It caught their attention outside Harvelle’s and we’ve been best friends ever since. Those boys have become the only family that I have left. I pull up to the gas station and get out to fill her up, of course being met with the usual stares of awe at my car. I ignore them and go about my business before getting back in to head for the store.

Before I leave, I pat the dash lovingly and check my phone to realize that I haven’t gotten a text from the boys yet. I tap on Sam’s contact and then wait as it rings. He answers rather promptly and sounds rather annoyed, “Hey, sorry I got side tracked. I’ll send you the list in a minute.” In the background I hear a door slam before Sam yells, “Fine, be that way but at least text (Y/n) your order.”

“Is everything alright?” I ask furrowing my eyebrows.

On the other end of the line, Sam sighs, “He found out about our thing and now he’s being pissy.”

I look over my shoulder at the backseat, I had kind of forgotten about that as we agreed to never talk about it, “I’ll talk to him when I get back.”

“Good luck,” Sam responds, “I’ll see you when you get here. Be safe.”

“Will do,” I reply before hanging up. I put the car in drive and head for the grocery store hearing a couple of dings from my phone as I do. Once I pull into a parking spot at the store, I check my phone to find two messages, the one from Sam reads:

Thanks for going to the store and everything. I don’t know where you’re going for food but I just want some salad stuff from the store if you could. Thanks again.

Dean’s is a little stiffer:

burger and fries

Oh yeah, he’s definitely upset. I begin to wonder how he even found out as I get out my car and head into the store. I gather up some pretty basic items and even grab a few steaks as they’re on sale. I manage to fill the shopping cart with groceries by the time I decide I should head for the checkout line. A short while later, I am loading groceries into my car before returning the cart to a rack and then heading towards home. I make sure to stop by Dean’s favorite burger joint in town and pick up food for me and him on the way.

When I pull into the garage, Sam is waiting to help unload groceries but Dean is nowhere in sight. Together, we silently make several trips to carry the groceries to the kitchen and then put everything away as well. Once we’ve finished, Sam sets to work making himself a salad so I grab mine and Dean’s food and head towards his room. I knock softly on the door, “I have your food. You and I need to talk.”

I hear some shuffling before Dean opens the door, “Damn right we do.” I offer his bag of food to him and he snatches it before making his way over to sit on the bed. I join him and let it stay quiet for a few moments as we both pull our food out of our bags and begin eating.

After a few bites of my burger, I speak up, “So, how did you find out?”

“Fucking Becky of all people, (Y/n). My brother and best friend banged the first night they met but no they didn’t fess up. I found out through Becky and some freaking creepy ass books,” he answers.

“Well, that explains why she’s never liked me. I’m guessing she let it slip the other day?” I muse.

“Yeah, she referred to you as the ‘reason Sam won’t ever like me’,” he mumbles through a bite of burger.

“That’s definitely not what’s keeping him from finding an interest in her. Especially considering it was a one-time thing that we agreed to never talk about.”

“You guys could’ve at least told me,” he grumbles.

“You’re telling me that you would’ve been cool if Sam and I were just like, ‘Oh hey Dean, we just banged in the back of (Y/n)’s car,’?” He’s doesn’t answer and instead seems to be rather fascinated by his fries. I sigh, “I suppose that’s what it is though. You’re hurt that we would keep something from you. Look Dean, I’m sorry that we didn’t tell you. It’s just not exactly something that can come up in casual conversation.”

Dean takes a deep breath, “I forgive you. I would very much be okay with continuing the ‘don’t ever mention it again,’ tactic. Definitely not an image I need in my head.”

I shake my head and laugh, “So why exactly did you blow up on Sam about it?”

“Because when I confronted him about him hiding something from me, he lied to me about it and said he wasn’t hiding anything. You admitted to it,” he answers.

I nod, “Gotcha. In that case,” I get up and make my way over to the door to yell, “Sammy, get your ass in here!”

I return to the bed to gather my food and trash and when Sam arrives in the doorway, I point at Dean, “Make up. I’ll be in my room when you two are on good terms with each other again. We can have a movie night or something.” With this, I leave them both avoiding eye contact with each other and make my way to my bedroom. It takes a while but finally, Sam and Dean appear at my open door with popcorn and a movie. I pat the bed on either side of me and they join me after putting the movie in. Things feel like they’re back to normal as we laugh our asses off at our favorite movie and stuff popcorn in our faces.

Masterlist

Taglist: @akshi8278 @emiijemii @deandaydreaming @castiels-majestic-wings

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester oneshots #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester oneshots #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural oneshot #supernatural oneshots

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khaotic-kitsunes · 4 years ago

Text

Game Night

Mafia boss fatgum for the fucking win!!

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

You let out a gasp as Taishiro pinned you to the wall in his office, his hot mouth pressing against your own demandingly while his hands roamed your body, quickly dipping down to grab your arse roughly.

Wanton moans fell desperately from your ravaged lips as you grabbed a hold of his fluffy hair, tugging him closer while he lifted your much smaller form up from the floor; his larger body pressing up against yours to create a friction that had you whimpering into the air-deprived kiss.

“Look at you, whimpering like this for me” Taishiro smirked lazily as his lips brushed against your own, his husky voice vibrating against your swollen and sensitive flesh. An underlying message laying hidden in the low pitch of his voice, a promise of all the things he could do to you without so much as to laying a finger on you; a promise that had you shuddering in anticipation.

“Mm, I can only imagine what you’ll sound like when you let me have my way with you, baby girl…”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey, (Name)!”

You hummed quietly at the sound of having been addressed by the person beside you, your mind only partially acknowledging them while you tried desperately to cling to the daydream that had been burning away the time you had yet to kill until your next errand. Unfortunately, your efforts to keep the imagery alive within your mind failing as the splendid scenario slipped from your grasp, reversing into the depths of your overly active imagination.

“(Name). The big guy wants to see ya.”

Your entire body jolted at his words, causing your attention to snap back to your current surroundings, the boring scenery putting a damper on your mood until you took in the words spoken to you. You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping as you turned to look at Eijiro, the usually chirpy new-members face holding a vaguely serious air about it, shooting pure adrenaline down your spine.

The big guy. Known as ‘Fatgum’ by most others and Taishiro Toyomitsu to those closest to him, his adopted family per se, his very own mafia.

“He wants to see me? Me? What did I do?” You squeaked out softly, somehow managing to close your mouth while Eijiro shrugged his shoulders, glancing towards the game room that Taishiro would frequent when he wasn’t hauled up in his office, dealing with the situations his members would get themselves into.

“Not sure, but he’s in there and he said he wants to see you” Eijiro explained, jutting his thumb towards the game room that Taishiro was currently residing in. You were almost positive you hadn’t done anything to warrant any bad attention from the somewhat terrifying mafia boss, but at the same time; it was never good to be called in to see him alone and even if you had never been called in personally like that, with no one else in the room, you had heard the rumours of what happened to those that had been.

“Now?” You questioned meekly, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you glanced towards the closed door to the game room, knowing who awaited your presence on the other side.

“Yep, if it helps, I don’t think it’s like with other times he’s called people in. He seemed pretty relaxed, he’s just playing some pool” He added, offering up a smile in an attempt to calm your obvious nerves and for some reason, it worked. Not completely but enough to let you nod your head in acknowledgement before standing up, your drink left forgotten at the table.

“Right…here’s hoping I didn’t fuck up” You gulped as you wandered towards the game room, thankful it wasn’t such a long walk; for some reason you had picked a table reasonably close to the game room to relax at. A choice you knew you wouldn’t make again if things went south.

“Come in (Name), don’t linger at the door!”

You flinched at his shout, quickly opening the door to the game room so that you weren’t agitating Taishiro more than he already was, if he was; it was hard to tell, you had been lucky enough not to have experienced that side of him yet.

Actually, you had put in a lot of effort specifically to avoid getting in his bad books.

“You’re nervous.”

It wasn’t a question, instead, a statement. He was reading you like a book and he hadn’t even moved from his spot at the pool table, the soft clicks of the pool balls signalling the relaxed nature of the room. Though it didn’t help you relax all that much.

“I…I guess so” You stuttered out softly, reaching behind you to shut the door to the room when Taishiro motioned for you to do so; apparently, he wanted some privacy for whatever reason he called you into the room.

“I don’t need you to guess. I can tell” He glanced up at you as you spoke, golden eyes staring right through you and to your soul, it felt like you were unable to hide anything from him and truthfully, you would agree with that. Hiding anything from Taishiro was out of the question.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t be so nervous because things aren’t looking good for you now, (Name).” He sighed, standing to his full height and placing the pool cue on the table, towards the side where it couldn’t bump the balls out of place.

“U-Um…I don’t understand” You paused when he held up his hand, instantly silencing anything you might have had to say; apparently, he wasn’t interested in your lack of understanding of the situation.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I want to know why you, a member of this gang for years, has decided to betray me” Taishiro demanded, narrowing his eyes as he approached you, his entire being completely and utterly intimidating.

“Wait, wait, wait, I would never…I, boss, I wouldn’t” You stuttered out as he stopped in front of you, one of his large hands coming up to grab your chin, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip; silencing you.

“Do you know how many times I’ve heard those words? How many people have stood in front of me and lied through their teeth?” He demanded quietly, his grip on your chin tightening ever-so-slightly; though you weren’t sure if he was hiding his anger or showing it to you. He was a man that liked control, so either way, it worked in his favour.

“But…I know the truth” He paused, chuckling quietly to himself before leaning down to stare deeply into your eyes, his thumb brushing over your lip gently; his entire demeanour now relaxed and non-threatening.

“The…the truth?” You frowned in confusion as he stepped away from you, motioning you to the pool table while he moved to set it up once again. It was strange, confusing and you weren’t entirely sure what was going on anymore.

“Yes, the truth. Now come here, have a game with me…relax a little (Name). I won’t bite” He grinned as he spoke, glancing over at you while your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, your thoughts already spiralling out of control despite what had almost occurred.

“Unless you want me to that is” He added, looking back towards the pool table while you wandered over slowly, still partially on guard. You didn’t dare deny nor agree to his little remark, it seemed he could read you like a book; which meant he likely knew the answer already.

“Now. I had someone come to me earlier, came with proof of you getting up to no-good behind my back” Taishiro sighed deeply as he held out a pool cue towards you, reaching for another for himself, seemingly agitated with the newly started conversation.

“Don’t panic, I’ve already looked into it. I doubted it from the beginning…you’re one of my oldest companions (Name). You joined when it was just a couple of us, I’d be an idiot to believe such convenient proof” He muttered out, tapping his fingers against the pool table quietly, his eyes glued to your every move, watching and judging.

“You used to tease me back then too” You pointed out quietly, fiddling with the pool cue in your hands; if you were honest with yourself, you should have thought of that. That he would try and tease you, because, while you had stayed out of his bad books from the beginning, he had taken to tricking you every now and then. An unamusing little hobby of his.

“You used to hang around me much more back then” He added, swiping his hand toward the table in a motion for you to be the one to break, his piercing gaze leaving little to no room for argument; you had to break!

“Yeah, well…the gang got bigger” You muttered, positioning yourself at the end of the pool table, leaning down to make the shot that he had so graciously insisted you take. While it was a little easier to relax, chatting with him like this, it wasn’t a conversation you really wanted to have.

“I always had, no, no. That isn’t right, I always have time for you. If you think any different then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did” He frowned as he watched you, fingers tapping against the pool table faster than before, a tell-tale trait of the agitation that was building within him.

“I know you always have time for me” You paused, taking the shot he had demanded of you, a relieved smile spreading across your lips when you made the shot, only just barely avoiding a mistake that would have Taishiro tease you relentlessly.

“But, I didn’t want you to be distracted by me. Everything was getting so serious, it seemed easier to just…let you focus on your family”

“You’re a part of that family.”

His blunt statement made you blink in surprise, your eyes darting up to meet his frustrated gaze, golden eyes hiding a storm within them. You knew he was serious about his gang being family to him, a man that had once wandered around with no one, but usually he would say it with a grin, or at the very least; a smile.

“I know…” You trailed off, unsure of how else to answer him. Though it hadn’t been a question, it felt like you needed to answer him; like he needed to know that you were aware of the fact.

“They called you new.” He clenched his teeth, turning his head to look away from you as he spoke, the agitation that had built up so quickly inside of him beginning to surface while you took a hesitant step towards him. Feeling braver than you probably should have.

“What? Why does that matter?” You froze when he looked at you, slamming the pool cue in his hand down onto the table, shaking it with the force used and making you jump in response; your own pool cue falling to the floor loudly.

Even if you had been working for Taishiro in this sort of business for years, you still weren’t entirely used to sudden and unexpected noises.

“Why does that matter? Seriously, (Name)?!”

You nodded silently, watching him as his anger seemed to only grow, the temper he was famous for in the area rearing its ugly head.

“Because you’ve been here for years but they assumed you were new, an easy target, based off of how you acted around me! How the fuck is that meant to make me feel?” He demanded, glaring down at you before reaching out and grabbing your wrist firmly; not enough to hurt you but enough to drag you out of his game room and into the main area of the building, silencing any noise that had been going on.

“Raise your hand if you think she’s new to our family!”

You gulped nervously as hand upon hand went into the air, the only hands that stayed down were the ones belonging to those that were around before even you were. Them and the newest member Eijiro, who was strangely enough, looking to the side with a sheepish look on his face.

“Do you see?” He bit out, turning to glare down at you with a fire burning deep within his gaze, his anger not yet settled while the people in the room looked around in confusion; none of them having any idea why their boss had asked such a question.

“Barely five people know who you are, everyone thinks you’re new!” He opened his mouth to say more but quickly chose to remain silent, instead pulling you back into his game room; slamming the door shut once you were inside. Nothing else he had to say was for them to hear, or so you guessed. Taishiro was a hard man to figure out.

“I don’t understand why that’s such an issue” You mumbled softly, puffing up your cheeks while managing to pull your arm free of his grasp, the statement seeming to shock him, if only a little.

“I don’t understand how clueless you can be!” He snapped, moving back over to the pool table and leaning against it, his arms crossing over his chest while his eyes remained glued to you, searching for something you couldn’t quite work out.

“If this has been bothering you so much, then why haven’t you said anything before now?” You let out a sigh, leaning back against the door and allowing yourself to sink down to your butt, staring up at him with a mix of curiosity and frustration. You simply couldn’t understand why he had called you in here, if it was to fight about something so stupid, then you wanted to know so you could leave him to his temper tantrum.

“Because I wanted you to do something about it. Not because I interfered but because you wanted to” He explained, his voice surprisingly calmer than before, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

“If I said something, you’d just fix it to please me and that isn’t what I wanted” He added, pushing himself off of the pool table, slowly making his way towards you; though his height was even more intimidating from your current position on the floor. Something you had never considered before now.

“Are we done?” You looked away as you spoke, avoiding his gaze as best as you could, afraid of what he might notice if he stared for too long; it was the last thing you needed right now.

“No. We aren’t done.” He let out a quiet sigh, holding his hand out to you, offering you a hand up that you probably needed since your knees were already starting to hurt. Not that you would admit to that aloud anytime soon.

“Why? What have I done now?” You pouted as you grasped his hand, a slight squeal escaping you when he pulled you up to your feet suddenly, causing you to fall into his larger body; though he was kind enough to steady you so that you didn’t fall back down to the ground.

“Started a game” He chuckled as he spun you around to face the pool table, his large hand lingering on the small of your back; even going as far as to give you a gentle nudge in the direction of the table. It seemed he wanted an actual game of pool.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” You trailed off as he walked past you, reaching down to pick up the pool cue you had dropped earlier, holding it out towards you until you took it from him.

“Does it look like I’m kidding, (Name)?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow as you smacked the pool cue into his arm lightly, enough to show him that you were kidding around; hopefully enough to mitigate his anger.

“Shut up and take your shot” You huffed out, looking away as he flashed you a grin, moving to line up his shot on the pool table. As much as you hated to admit it, Taishiro had been right in a way, you probably should have been upset that everyone assumed you were the new girl; but at the same time, you were fine with how things were.

Avoiding Taishiro had been your only means of escaping your feelings for him.

“You never did say the reason why you were avoiding me.”

You frowned as you moved towards the pool table, making quick work of the balls before stepping back away from the table, trying your best to avoid looking at him in the most casual way possible.

“(Name). Answer me…” Taishiro grabbed your arm, gentler than before and pulled you back towards the pool table, pressing you up against it while he moved to stand in front of you; caging you in by placing his hands against the table.

“I did too, you even responded…angrily but you did” You mumbled softly, chewing on your bottom lip while he leant down slowly, his lips inches away from your own. Apparently, he wasn’t going to go away until he got what he wanted.

“The truth, baby girl. I want the truth” He clarified, chuckling quietly when he noticed your reaction to what he had said, though you got the feeling he knew it was because of the sudden nickname. One he hadn’t called you in years, not since you had first joined his ‘family’.

“And if you say it was the truth, I’m going to skip the pleasantries and drag it out of you the hard way” He warned, his voice low and serious, making you squirm beneath him, not quite used to this side of Taishiro. At least, you weren’t used to the real Taishiro being like this, the Taishiro of your fantasies was similar, actually, if you were being honest the Taishiro of your fantasies was even more intense.

“…It…wasn’t a lie?” You whispered, mentally kicking yourself at the fact your words had sounded more like a question than a statement, well aware that Taishiro would pick up on that. He was not a stupid man.

“(Name). Look at me.” He instructed firmly, making you gulp and peek up at him nervously, his heated gaze stirring up several emotions you would have preferred to have left buried.

“You’re lying…” He paused, reaching up to brush his thumb over your cheek gently, distracting you just enough so that you didn’t register the fact that he had dipped his head just enough to capture your lips in a deep, demanding kiss.

“And I’m sure you’re aware of how much I hate it when people lie to me” He chuckled, biting at your lower lip before leaning back, watching your face as you tried to process what had just happened.

“That…isn’t the reaction I’d expect from someone who hates being lied to” You mumbled, still wide-eyed from the kiss, your fingers moving to touch the lip he had bitten. You weren’t quite sure what to think, but one thing you did know was that you liked it.

“I’m sure” He reached up to stroke your cheek tenderly, grinning the moment you dropped your fingers away from your lips, quickly stealing yet another kiss from you, slower than the first; even allowing you to move your arms around him, pulling him closer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You let out a quiet moan as you allowed Taishiro to bend you over the large pool table that occupied his game room, your simple and modest dress already hiked up to your hips with your favourite lacy panties around your ankles. A sight that you were certain had Taishiro aching to be inside of you, especially with how the last time you tried this ended up.

“Dripping already, (Name)?”

He grinned as he spoke, thick fingers rubbing over your drenched folds while you peeked back at him; your cheeks hot with embarrassment. It didn’t matter to you that he had seen you like this before, in this very same position; you still weren’t used to the idea of doing this with him. A mafia boss.

“You embarrassed like this baby? Cause ya shouldn’t be” He chuckled as he brushed his fingers over your clit teasingly, making you gasp out quietly, anticipation your worst enemy; leaving you vulnerable to his sudden touches.

“Well who wouldn’t be embarrassed like this?” You questioned with a huff, the last time you had been in this room with him, he had been ‘punishing’ you. The problem? Someone had walked in on the two of you; just as Taishiro was about to fill you with his thick cock and while the thought of it made your mouth water, you had no desire what-so-ever to be caught like that. Ever. Again.

“You know, it could’ve been worse”

You frowned as he spoke, a dangerous curiosity sparking within you. Worse? You couldn’t imagine it. The situation had been horrifying, there was absolutely no way it could have been worse in your mind.

Before you had a chance to question him about what he had meant, you found yourself crying out his name in surprise while he pushed the head of his thick, throbbing cock inside of you.

You were by no means, a virgin; however, Taishiro was a big man. Standing at 8’2” tall with a dick that was basically turning you into a spit-roast. It was a tight fit and even then, you weren’t actually sure he was completely inside of you yet.

“I could’ve kept going, fucked you right here, in front of him. Made you squeal and bounce on my dick” He chuckled at the idea of it while his hands brushed over your hips faintly, his touch almost tender as he tried to figure out how he was going to do this.

“You don’t fit me” He frowned as he spoke, moving his hands to your arse, spreading your cheeks as much as possible while he jerked his hips; making you cry out at the movement. You could feel it, you were full and yet he wasn’t inside of you completely yet; he didn’t even have to say anything. You knew that by the end of the night, he would be buried balls deep inside of you.

“Taishiro?”

He lifted his gaze to you at the sound of your whimper, a low hum building in the pit of his chest; he could see it already. Your concern, but he didn’t exactly let it bother him, you would enjoy it soon enough.

“Don’t worry, (Name), it isn’t a problem” He flashed you a wicked grin, his fingers digging into your arse roughly while he pulled himself out of you slowly, starting a steady yet harsh pace.

Each thrust of his hips had you whimpering out a moan, your entire body rocking into the pool table while Taishiro attempted to fill you completely with his dick and to an extent, it was working. Your body was adjusting to him and you were beginning to loosen around him, your walls hot and welcoming instead of tight and uncomfortable.

It was a feeling he wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.

“(Name), how you going? Think you can take a bit more?”

He littered your neck in feather-light kisses, his hips still moving at a harsh pace, constantly filling you with his dick; though he still wasn’t inside of you completely yet. Not yet, soon though if his plan worked.

“Just do it. I know what you want to do Taishiro” You moaned out, pressing against the pool table while you tried to grind yourself back onto his dick more, the movement sending a faint, stinging pain through your body and up your spine. You didn’t particularly care at this stage though, he felt good inside of you and you wanted all of him, you wanted him to be able to bury every inch of his dick inside of you and it wasn’t going to happen without a little bit of discomfort.

“Hold on tight then” He warned, giving you a second to grab onto the edge of the pool table properly before he lifted your hips, his grip tight as he pulled out of you completely; the very tip of his dick rubbing up against your folds teasingly.

You screamed out his name a moment later, when he pulled you back onto his aching cock at the same time he thrust his hips forwards, not stopping until you were a panting mess on top of the pool table; every inch of him buried inside of your much smaller frame.

“Fuck…”

You shuddered at the sound of his growl of pleasure, instead whining softly at how full you felt in that moment; it hadn’t hurt like you had expected, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Your body was slowly adjusting to the complete size of him, the only problem was that it was too slow. Taishiro was already pressing you down into the pool table, his hips moving hard and fast while he bit over your soft skin, leaving you unable to do much more than gasp and choke on your moans beneath him.

“You know you’re mine, right?” He bit at your ear as he spoke, grunting and groaning with each thrust, the sounds drowning out your choked-out noises, yet still only just barely audible over the loud squelching of his dick pushing into your warm body.

“You accepted me, letting me fuck you like this (Name)…you knew right? Tell me you knew” He groaned low, burying his face against your neck while his hips bucked hard, his dick constantly rubbing against your spot and making you see stars, stuttered out whimpers spilling from your lips while you tried desperately to stay conscious.

“Y-Yes, I knew. I knew, I knew I was giving in to you!”

Your stuttered out cries of bliss made him grin, pushing you up onto the pool table entirely while he leaned over your body, continuously burying himself into you until you were screaming out his name at the top of your lungs; your walls clamping down around him, clenching desperately as you rode out your orgasm.

It wasn’t long before Taishiro’s hips went still, his hot seed spilling into your body while he groaned out your name, his grip on your hips finally loosening enough for him to see the light bruises he had left behind.

“Good.”

You gasped when Taishiro pulled out of you, rolling you onto your back so that you were staring up at him, a thin layer of sweat covering your body, strands of hair clinging to your skin and making you look irresistible.

Taishiro was prouder than he would ever say aloud; he had been the one to do this to you, the one to turn you into such a mess.

“Because from now on, I’m going to fuck you senseless whenever I get the chance. You’re going to be my queen and my little slut all at once” He grinned widely as he spoke, enjoying the way your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed; it was a sight he would burn into his memory.

In that moment, you were his perfection.

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