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fangsyouverymuch01 · 3 months

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Just friends

Summery: The hero of Baldur's Gate greatest battlefield is now drunkenly returning home from the tavern because your connection to the arcane world is dying, and it has been for months. Adding to it, is your unresolved feelings from a certain vampire you've sworn to forget.

Rolan and Lia, aiding you in your search for answers, are determined to divert your mind from troubles. Unbeknownst to you, this night is destined to change everything.

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav, Astarion x f!reader , Rolan x reader

Warnings: Fightning, sort of depressed reader, drinking, Astarion being a prick

Tags: Slow burn, friends to lovers

Note: This took way too long to write, and tbh I'm scared to publish it. Had a hard time coming up with a plot that would make sense (and yes this is the underdark/menzoberranzan fic)

Nevertheless, hope you enjoy and stick around for more parts in the future.

In front of you is an array of literature varying from books, scrolls and notes. Just like yesterday and the day before that. Picking up yet another scroll and unrolling it, the words painted on it turns into a blur. Arcane symbols dance before your eyes but the contents of the page escapes your fleeting mind and it drifts to past memories of Moonrise Towers.

“...And all I had to do was not fall for you… Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he pauses, searching for the right words to continue. “You’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

Stunned by his confession, your own voice momentarily failed you. The Elf spoke again, revealing a truth that cut through your heart like a blade.“Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him.”

Astarion further explains his train of thought, you could see his mouth moving but not a word reached your ears. Sadness, confusion, happiness and anger; the emotions mixed and collided within you. Was your relationship built on lies? Had you somehow forced him to sleep with you? It was all so much.

“I don't know how else to be with someone, No matter how much I’d like to.”

You’d decided to remain just friends, and it had felt like the right choice. Liberating even, seeing Asterion grow into a person no longer controlled by fear. But now, you wallowed in selfishness due to your aching heart. Now it is the thing that keeps you from focusing on the task ahead. Now it is the thing keeping your from nights embrace, your body twisting and turning when the moon shone through the curtains. Now it is the numb feeling whilst faceless men sing your name between your legs. The decision, made with the intention of preserving your friendship, now felt as liberating as a chain strung to your neck.

Moreover, you haven't seen him in weeks - or could it be months? The passage of time blurs and certainly eludes you. Yet, effortlessly, his image flits into your head - bouncy white curls, piercing crimson eyes, a sharp nose and that godsdamn smirk. Interchangeable in your memory - forever young - he remains a vivid specter that refuses to fade.

Breaking your train of thought, there is a tap on your shoulder, a figure crouching over you to peer at the discoveries revealed in the scroll.

“Found anything of interest?” Rolan spoke, eyeing you from above.

“Ehm no, just lost in thought.” you replied, attempting to shake off the lingering memories that had clouded your focus.

“Well, neither have I.” he puffed out a breath of air, “My best bet is to return to the House of Grief for more answers so I could study the mirror you spoke off.”

“I’m not sure they’d warmly welcome me back after my latest visit.” you let out a strained chuckle, struck by a memory of Viconas lifeless person as Shadowhearts struck the merciless final blow to her chest.

Since your time in the House of Grief, your bond with magic has slowly dwindled. The once-familiar currents of arcane energy now seemed distant. Magic had been an extension of you, and its absence felt akin to a cruel mutilation and you were desperate to feel magic coursing through your veins once more. Your desperation had led you here - Sorcerous Sundries, for any clue or hope that you might become whole again.

"Anyhow, have you heard from Gale yet?" you inquired, seeking a distraction from your thoughts.

"He deemed Waterdeep fruitless in our search and should be arranging plans to continue in Neverwinter as we speak," Rolan replied, his eyes pacing the floorboards beneath him. "Maybe we should pause our search for today; the sun is setting, and you, my friend, are in desperate need of a drink." His suggestion hung in the air, a respite offered amidst your futile search for answers.

You had no energy to protest, you truly wanted to go, you really did. But what you needed was to dive into the mountains of untouched texts sprawled in a ring in front of you.

Lazily tracing the arcane figures, partly lost in deliberation you answer “Thank you for the offer but I shouldn’t, you go and I’ll stay here.”

"Come on, just one drink. It won't solve all our problems, but it might provide a momentary escape," he insisted, recognizing the heaviness in your gaze. "We can resume our search tomorrow with clearer minds. Trust me, it's what you need right now."

A defeated sign escapes your lips “Fine, one drink but no more than that”.

Laying a victorious touch on your arm, the tiefling grinned, "That's the spirit!" Helping you up, he proceeded, "The Elf Song in an hour; I need to run something by Lia first." With determined steps, he led you away from your search for answers in the pile of books.

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The warm light emanating from the Elfsongs' painted windows cast a glow over your figure as you linger outside the bustling door. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses weave together, that should beckon you inside but it doesn't. Nothing seems to pique your interest these days. The hero of Baldurs Gate was but a mere shell of what bards sang about and the thought of being recognized, of eyes filled with anticipation that lingers for extraordinary tales to be told - you can't stand it.

Adding to your dread, are the invasive questions about your companions - about Astarion. Head spinning and lips slowly drooping to frown, you instinctively recoil from the entrance.

With a heavy sigh, you reach into your bag, fingers wrapping around a familiar flask. The cool metal brings a small comfort, and in contrast your throat burns as you gulp down liquid courage.

Stealing yourself against the prying questions and the weight of everyone's expectations, you push open the tavern door, stepping into the warm embrace of the tavern, where Rolan and Lia await, immersed in their own stories. You offer them a weak smile as you approach the booth.

“There you are, I almost thought you wouldn’t show but I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“Come, sit!” Lia urges, patting the cushion beside her. As you settle into the booth, you can't help but notice the curious eyes around you.

Gods no.

Instinctively, your finger twirls and you mutter a spell to cast disguise self, only to be reminded of your uselessness. A tinge of frustration tightens your jaw, quickly masked by a forced smile. You divert your gaze, hoping to shield yourself from the unwanted attention.

“What’s your poison for today?” Lia asks, a mischievous smile spreading from cheek to cheek. Her breath smells of alcohol; Lia and Rolan had clearly begun drinking ahead of you. Not that you could judge them, having indulged in your trusted flask outside the tavern minutes ago.

“I’ll have what you’ve had.”

“Coming right up!” Lia responds, her enthusiasm undeterred. She signals the bartender, and soon enough, a trio of drinks arrives at the table.

Rolan is the first to grip the glass and then clear his throat, “To us, and Gale - and hope that tomorrow will give us more answers.”

One drink turns into four drinks, and at some point, you lose track of both time and the units you’ve allowed to warm your gullet. Honestly it’s quite funny, why did you worry so much before? Silly you with silly thoughts! Almost as silly as Rolan’s eyes focused on your neck. He looks funny with his eyebrows furrowed, and a chuckle escapes your lips at the sight.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep staring at my neck like that, Rolan.”

“I did no such thing!” he retorts as a flush creeps up on the tiefling's cheeks.

Lia heartily laughs, swaying a bit, and offers her hand to you. “Join me for a dance, will you?” The music in the tavern entices you and despite the blurred lines of inebriation, you take Lia’s hand and step into the lively dance floor.

Lia practically dragged you through the crowded tavern, Rolan following closely behind to his best abilities. The dance floor was filled with twirling bodies, in rhythm with the bard's melodies. Pulling your arm up, Lia spins and chuckles as you reach the bards scene. Rolan, with a playful twinkle in his eyes, reaches the two of you and joins the dance. The world seems to sway with the music and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile spreads across your face.

As you moved to the music, you sensed Rolans’ proximity. His hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you through the intricate steps of the dance. The unfamiliar warmth of his hand against your skin was a stark contrast to the memories of Asterion's cool touch.The bard's music kept on playing, the tunes bouncing off the plucked strings, the odor of alcohol on his breath, and hot uncontrolled bodies clashing against your person - Gods, its too much. You can't stay a minute longer or you might suffocate.

“I need some air,” you mumble and offer an apologizing smile, excusing yourself as the dance continues without you.

“Wait!” a muffled voice calls out, but you pretend that you’re too far off to hear.

Faces blurred into a sea of strangers, and the lively chatter became an indistinguishable hum. Your breath quickened, and you couldn't shake the feeling of faceless men and women judging your every step. Because now they know - they know that you were no hero of Baldur's gate, just another drunk who couldn’t even cast a simple spell to disguise herself from embarrassment.

Pathetic.

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the contrast between the warmth of the dance floor and the refreshing chill outside sent shivers down your spine. Crouching down you plant your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath and ease your mind.

A moment later, the tavern door swung open abruptly, an curly haired man emerging as he wrestled with another almost feral one. The creature thrashed and snarled at the curly haired man as he strained against the frenzied movements. Caught off guard, you stood up in the shadow beside the entrance, your breath hitching again as you observed the scene unfold.

Seizing the opportunity to make sense of the situation, you assertively approached the struggling men, dagger clutched and ready strike if needed. The curly-haired man's eyes flickered toward you and your gaze met his.

Deep crimson eyes, ivory curls, and are those fangs?

No, that can't be.

"Astarion?" you uttered, your voice a hushed whisper that sliced through the night, your eyes fixed on the elf's face in utter disbelief. There he was, right before you.

Astarion's attention shifted to the rabid man, deftly maneuvering to subdue him. He restrained the creature, halting any further erratic movements. With precision, Astarion extracted a flask from his belt, causing the man's struggles to intensify. Despite the increased resistance, Astarion's actions remained calculated and exact.

With the man momentarily contained, Astarion secured him in place with one hand, the other retrieving a flask. He raised it to his mouth, a subtle glint of fangs emerging as he skillfully removed the lid with his teeth.

"Hello," the rogue spoke, pausing to inject the man with the unfamiliar substance. The feral struggles ceased, and Astarion continued, his tone now imbued with a nuanced warmth, "darling."

Stunned you remain constrained where you stood. This is real, Astarion is here after days, weeks and months of him plaguing your thoughts every waking moment. Your mind races, trying to process the surreal present. A rumble in your stomach seems to pull you out of your trance, nausea spreading in your throat.

Keep. it. down.

“Care to help or do you intend to stand there and just gawk?”

Once more the door beside you swung open, a tall figure emerges with swaying strands of long hair catching in the wind, intent on reaching the paralyzed man and Astarion.

“We said no killing, remember?" he spoke.

"Oh, my apologies, brother. I must have forgotten our little agreement when I was wrestling the feral dog whilst you were nowhere to be seen.”

At that moment, you recognized the man - Leon. His expression remained stoic, though a flicker of irritation crossed his features. "Your theatrics aren't amusing, Astarion. We need to keep them alive; this is not the time nor place for you to display your unique methods."

You finally had a surge to act, fumbled in your bag and searched for any potion or scroll that could help. A glass vial of what seemed to be a healing potion met your fingers, and you pulled it out, unscrewing the cap with shaky hands.

“Here take this,” you called out, holding the potion aloft, offering a forced smile amidst the charged atmosphere.

As you step forward to give Leon the vial, Rolan stumbles out the tavern door, tipsy and eyes searching for something in the night. You’d completely forgotten about Rolan and Lia, they’d probably been worried since you hadn’t returned. His eyes widened at the chaotic scene before him, and he instinctively moved to stand in front of you, a protective gesture. His hand flickered with a small flame, ready to defend against any potential threat.

"What in the hells is happening here?" Rolan demanded, a mix of concern and bewilderment in his voice.

Before anyone could respond, Astarion let out a small laugh, one that you couldn't seem to decipher the meaning of. What was so funny? Rolan certainly wasn't amused, and the flame rose higher from his palm at the elf's dismissive laugh. Leon's gaze moved to Rolan, his hands raising in a gesture of peace, showing that they were no threat to him or you.

“Got yourself a knight in shining armor, have you now?” Astarion remarked, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Knight in shining armor? The words stung, and a spark of anger flared within you. Rolan didn't need to save you nor did you want him to. Opening your mouth to retort, Leon interjected, his voice firm and commanding.

“Astarion, don’t,” Leon snapped at him, a stern edge to his voice. He then looked directly at you, his expression softening. “We don’t want to fight you. Let's find a quieter spot to talk, and we’ll explain everything.”

You nodded, the tension in the air making it clear that this was not the time for confrontation. Rolan, still wary but trusting your judgment, lowered the flame in his palm. With cautious glances exchanged between the group, you began to move away from the chaotic scene, guided by Leon's lead to a more secluded spot where answers awaited.

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heimeldat · 4 months

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I've spent an inordinate amount of time parsing the few examples we have of Old High Gallifreyan text, and here at last is the result of my labors!

The Old Gallifreyan alphabet:

The alternate forms of letters may be used interchangeably with their main forms; the differences are purely cosmetic, much like the difference between cursive and print-style writing.

Now for my analysis of the existing texts. It's rather long, so I've put it below the break!

EXAMPLES OF OLD HIGH GALLIFREYAN TEXT

ITEM ONE

Supposedly from “The Five Doctors,” though I can’t spot this writing anywhere. Translation given in episode.

ORA PSYERPA

O – honorific indicating uniqueness, may be rendered with the definite article “the”

R – combined with the definite honorific, a common abbreviation of Rassilon’s name

A – an alternate version of the possessive “ya,” used only when the possessive noun is already abbreviated

Psyerpa – a general term for harps and other large stringed instruments

Thus, the full text reads:

O-Rassilon-ya psyerpa

The Rassilon’s harp

ITEM TWO

From “The Colony in Space,” across the bottom of the Doctor’s mugshot. No translation given.

QU ETHOA TRIOUAX BRIA

Qu – This is not a complete word, merely a letter used in this case for alphanumerical file designation: note that it stands alone, separate from the main text.

Ethoa – exile

Triouax – an infinitive verb, “to persist” or “to remain in effect”

Bria – a conditional modifier used exclusively in bureaucratic contexts, implying the need for occasional update of information or policy.

This text is a record of the Doctor’s sentence, and may be rendered something like this: Exile: to remain in effect barring further review.

ITEM THREE

From “The Time of Angels.” Translation given.

JUSYMOU CAIDEU OXA OOYY MAISOM

Jusymou – An archaic greeting, roughly equivalent to “well met” or “hail.”

Caideu – self, soul, or “hearts” in a poetic sense

Oxa – prepositional suffix, “part of”

OOYY – a conceptual abbreviation that combines the two meanings of the solitary letter O (definite article + symbol of individuality) and the mathematical use of the letter Y (usually indicating a dimensional shift). Literally, this means something like the individual, shifted two dimensions. In practice, it refers to a Time Lord’s fifth dimensional aspect.

Maisom – name, designation, identification

Thus, a literal translation would read something like this: Greetings, soul-linked fifth-dimensional name!

Or as the Doctor paraphrases it: Hello, Sweetie.

ITEM FOUR

From “The Five Doctors.” Translation is given, though it’s not specified which face of the obelisk corresponds to which section of the text.

First Face:

RA NASA TO TANA EURIFSTAN OBLR ORE NATA

Ra – where

Nasa – sleep

To – in

Tana – lies, reclines, rests

Eurifstan – eternal, endless, timeless. Here it modifies the verb, so it should be rendered as an adverb.

Oblr – abbreviated form of obelar, tomb or grave

OR – the same abbreviation seen previously, “The One And Only Rassilon.”

E – an alternate version of the possessive “ya,” used only when the possessive noun is already abbreviated

Nata – a basic verb of being, is

This yields the following literal translation: Where sleep-in lies eternally, tomb Rassilon’s is.

Or as the Doctor translates it: This is the Tomb of Rassilon, where Rassilon lies in eternal sleep.

Second Face:

The text on the second face is never seen. The Doctor translates it as: Anyone who's got this far has passed many dangers and shown great courage and determination.

Third Face:

ULIREIF RAENATA TOAAN LAKI FSTA TORARO

Ulireif – to lose everything, to be utterly defeated

Raenata – an emphatic form of the being-verb nata, indicating that something really, truly, permanently is

Toa’an – to win everything, to be crowned victor

Laki – a compound conjunction combining la (so) with ki (and): “and so”

Fsta – an abbreviated form of festoa, a winner or leader

Toraro – future tense of torar, to fail or collapse

Thus: To lose all is truly to win all, and so the winner will fail.

Or as the Doctor puts it: To lose is to win, and he who wins shall lose.

Fourth Face:

KIRA ATOUNA OR TA LIRI EUKI RAATO SUTE ANAAN FEIRLIO REUNT

Kira – takes

Atouna – ring

OR – the same abbreviation seen previously, “The One And Only Rassilon.”

Ta – from

Liri – hand

Euki – a compound conjunction combining eu (then, next, afterward) with ki (and): “and then”

Ra’ato – future tense of ra’at, to wear

Sute – reward, prize, payment

Ana’an – desired, sought-after

Feirlio – future tense of feiril, to get or acquire. Note that this is an irregular verb: the last two letters switch places when adding any tense ending.

Reunt – immortality, eternity

Literally: Takes ring Rassilon-from-hand and then will wear, reward-sought will have: immortality.

Or as the Doctor translates it: Whoever takes the ring from Rassilon's hand and puts it on shall get the reward he seeks: immortality.

#doctor who #gallifreyan language #conlang #old high gallifreyan #no I have no idea how many hours I spent figuring this out #yes I'm working on figuring out the modern alphabet too (the one Four uses when he writes his letter at the beginning of Deadly Assassin)

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rivalriotrenegade · 10 months

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Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

About this fic: This is technically supposed to be a Monster Simon x reader but can also be read as just human Simon. The monster type isn't specified so you can read it with whatever monster you have in mind! This is also inspired by @ghouljams Fae!Ghost AU. So if you like this I HIGHLY recommend checking out some of their stuff. Its amazing!

Word count: 719

Warnings: GN reader, small references to kinks and slight NSFW so if you ain't 18 this ain't for you :) Sorry not sorry. I also can't figure out the :readmore: so that's my bad guys.

You sit on Simon’s lap quietly reading as his face rests between your shoulder and neck, completely unaware of the inner turmoil that he’s currently going through. The longer you sit there, the more the edges of his mind begin to fray as he takes in your scent.

It calls to him. Reawakens parts of himself he thought he had long since buried. A forgotten instinct that he had tucked away deep within the darkest corners of his mind. Slowly, he feels it coming back to life, the darker, more possessive parts of himself.

The parts that make him want to snarl and snap at anyone who gets too close, at anyone who would dare take you away. Friend or foe, it doesn’t matter. He wants to stay like this forever, everyone else be damned.

He toys with the thought of sinking his fangs into you, of permanently marking you as his. His mouth waters at the thought. Simon Riley was never one to make a show of things, but the idea of everyone knowing who you belong to fills his head with plenty of dark fantasies.

His instincts scream at him to do it. “Now! Before someone else comes and takes them away!” They cry. If he was thinking logically he’d know that you would never leave him for anyone else, but he’s not thinking logically. All he knows is that you’re his and he needs everyone else to know it too. “Mine. Mine. MINE!”

Unconsciously he digs his fingers into you, pulling your body impossibly closer to him, determined to keep you there. Your flesh fills his hands perfectly, so soft and supple and all his.

The things he’d do for you, the things he’d do to keep you safe are outweighed only by the things he wants to do to you. All the nasty, horrible things. Things that’d make you scream and cry and beg for mercy… or maybe you’d beg for more? He doesn’t know which sounds better.

He wants you under him, filled to the brim with everything he has to offer! He wants to bring you to the brink of sanity and push you over it again and again. It doesn’t really matter how, though he might have some preferences.

Tied up and blindfolded or lost and hunted? Either would do. Humans are always so scared of the unknown, but he’d make sure you had nothing to fear. Nothing but him, that is. Pain and pleasure can be interchangeable or are they one in the same?

He doesn’t know anymore. Blame the war or the torture he’s endured or even his fucked up childhood. All he knows is that whatever it is it feels good. He’s never cared for anyone else’s pleasure but his own, but he wants, no he needs for you to feel good too.

But you're so different from him. Would you be able to handle all the vile things he’d do to you? Could you handle being held down and marked up? Could you handle being manhandled, bent to his every whim and desire as he slammed into you? Could you even take his—

“Are you okay? You’re breathing kind of heavy.” You ask him sweetly and just like that he snaps out of it. Carefully he shakes his head dismissing the intrusive thoughts. “I’m fine love, just go back to reading, yeah?” You look at him, tilting your head inquisitively. “Are you sure?” You ask. His heart hammers inside his chest, like a caged animal trying to break free. “Yeah lovie, I’m sure.”

Your eyes soften and you smile at him in a way that gets his blood racing. “I love you.” You say, so gently that it’s hard to even fathom that you’re talking to him. A man so messed up and broken. He swallows thickly. He can hardly believe that someone like you, so kind and caring, gentle to a fault, would choose to love a monster like him. If you knew what really went on inside his head, would you still love him?

He has to remind himself that you don’t know what goes on inside his head. You're so far away from the monster that he knows himself to be. So for now he’ll keep on indulging in you. “I love you too.”

That's all guys! I hope you enjoyed it and I also really hope it wasn't too cringe. If you have thoughts on it please let me know. Constructive criticism is ALWAYS appreciated. Have a lovely day!

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hanafubukki · 10 months

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Been thinking about how silver has been crying every chapter update, he has also been gong through trauma/negative emotions from dealing with malleus, helping sebek, then dream lilia telling him that he’d stay with silver only for silver to deny that fact, and then we have this chapter with past lilia.

Past lilia who denys wanting a family and past lilia who blocked an attack for silver. The way he screamed breaks my heart.

So I can’t help but wonder if they are trying to OB silver as well, didnt silver mention to snap him out of it if he ever falls to the ink? Is this implying that in the future he might?

Then you add on the fact that he is technically using his UM this entire time, even if he is asleep. It’s draining him.

What if he OBs?

(And as much as it would be fun and interesting and angsty to see two OBs fights, wether together or against each other)

I feel that Malleus will see this and somehow absorb Silver’s OB, making Malleus to finally go off that end to the frenzy phrase we usually see.

And this is what kills Malleus, this saving silver will kill him and turn him to dust like how Maleficient did in the second movie (or maybe it would just be his body that’s been put to sleep)

And maybe it will be Silver’s tears that brings him back like it did with aurora and maleficient. Silver has been crying every chapter after all.

(We could also use these same points with lilia as well interchangeably)

#twst silver #twisted wonderland silver #twst malleus draconia #malleus draconia #twst theory #twst theories

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miaunifest · 1 year

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“find your own seat!”

summary: your best friend steals your unassigned assigned seat before a debriefing. you’re somewhat dramatic, though you’d disagree; but suddenly you’re in his quarters confessing your love at 2 am.

a/n: bc u guys r sleeping on him while im sleeping with him 🤞🏼 i have not written an actual fic in so long bare with me pls…

You left behind “seating charts” and “assigned seats” the moment you graduated highschool - which is exactly why you were making a fuss about a certain Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick sitting in your seat. It offended you more than it should’ve, really, considering how Kyle spent every waking moment with you and knew how territorial you could get.

This had most likely been the biggest betrayal of your life, and it happened right under your nose. From that stupid, handsomely smug grin Kyle had been wearing since you first chatted in the morning to the way he stared at you innocently, your figure towering over his.

“Do you need something?” He asked, biting back a giggle.

“I do! And I am so glad you asked me,” you sneered (somewhat) playfully.

“You know I’d do anything for you, (Y/N). What do you need?”

“For you to get out of my seat.”

Was it ridiculous that you were upset over this? Yes. Would Soap be making fun of you for getting defensive over a chair later? Without a doubt. Are you a drama queen who lives to cause unnecessary scenes? Absolutely.

A tension sat in the air, bordering on sexual and romantic, while successfully being hostile. Not hostile enough to remove your best friend from your spot, of course. All you could think about while looking at him was about the nerve this man has; does he not know everyone has their own unofficial seats? You sit next to Kyle while Soap sits across from you. Price and Ghost interchanged their seats, not really caring who they were across or next to.

Even with that, one thing was certain - the seat across from Soap was yours. It had been since you first walked into that godforsaken meeting room, Kyle beckoning you to sit next to him, a smile plastering that stupid face of his. That stupid face you wanted so badly to hold and pepper with kisses, listening as he giggled, body undoubtedly getting warmer.

Another thing that was certain happened to be your unmoving gaze, the only thing breaking your trance being a gentle kick to your boot. Back to the point, your seat was stolen - or something along those lines.

“Move.” You demanded while puffing your chest in an attempt to appear bigger, an attempt Kyle found albeit cute.

“Unless Price walks in here with a seating arrangement, I don’t think I will,”

An exasperated sigh left your lips, “find your own seat!”

By some miracle of God (Ghost and Price walked through the door) he moved back to his seat, sparing you another 5 minutes of stress as your meeting began.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Kyle nudged you gently, holding open the door for you.

“Tuh! Not even,” but you were nothing short of it.

“Yes even! You looked like you were ready to beat me half to death with that damn chair,”

“I’m the most rational person on this team!” Your right hand found its way to your heart, resting over it to exaggerate.

“Said nobody ever,” he smiled, earning a shove from you.

Your eyes rolled playfully, thinking about how there’s never a dull day with him around.

That mindset is probably how you found yourself inside of his quarters at 2 am, your heart was beating so fast and irregularly a doctor would’ve mistaken your feelings for a heart murmur. In all honesty, you can’t blame them - he really did make you feel like you had a heart murmur sometimes, as niche as it sounds.

“Why are you awake?” Kyle asked with sleep in his voice. God, it just made you want to bite him so hard like he’s pure jello. Not in a sexual way (though you wouldn’t mind it), call it cuteness aggression. A whole bunch of it. An unhealthy amount, you’d argue.

Suddenly your knees wanted to buckle and you tripped over your own tongue, tumbling on every single word that refused to leave your throat. Only strings of, “uhhh,” and “ummm”s leaving your mouth.

Are you supposed to feel this way around your best friend? Definitely not. Were you going to ignore this feeling? Not for any longer.

“Couldn’t sleep, I was thinking,” you were being honest, truth only ever left your lips - well, most of the time anyway.

“About..?” He dragged out the ‘o’, your breath hitched.

Adrenaline and anxiety were far from new feelings, they’re considerably familiar around Kyle. It wasn’t just tonight those feelings kept you up, for someone who (literally) pushes him around all the time, he plagued your mind. There was something so comforting and scary about what you were going through. Comforted by the fact that it’s your best friend you are very obviously in love with, but scared by that same thought.

Who wouldn’t be scared about losing it all? Completely tarnishing your friendship, one you’d spent so much time building and cherishing. There was everything to lose with only one thing to gain: clarity. Clarity about his feelings, because you’ll be damned, he was so open he could be difficult to read.

You were going to say something you’d regret tonight, if you could get out any cohesive sentences that is.

You. I was thinking about you and that dumb laugh you have and how you always hold the door open for me and you’re the first to notice what’s wrong and the fact you listen to me when it feels like I’m drowning myself out and -

Your reply was only said the first word, of course. Confidence and courage were not your fortes, but if you hoped hard enough one day you’d speak your mind freely.

“You.”

He smiled? You think he did, at least. There wasn’t much, or any light, actually. Was his room always this hot? The sweat forming in your palms tells you otherwise, but the temperature distracts you from whatever words might come out of Kyle’s mouth next.

“I was thinking about you too.”

Your body froze. Algor mortis is what they call it; the second stage of death where your internal body temperature starts dropping beneath the standard, which is 98.7°F. But you weren’t dead, no not even close, you were very much alive and your painfully loud heartbeats contested to that.

You’ve never been so incredibly alert, you could feel your blood rushing all throughout your body, how uneven your breathing was so you started manually inhaling to fix it, and at some point you’d stopped blinking? Your body was on autopilot but it was so .. not, all at once.

That was when you said the thing you knew you’d regret. Those 3 damned words that had you entangled in your thoughts for so long, you failed to notice who was right in front of you. Your eyes didn’t move, observing the floor with an awful intensity.

“I love you.”

Shock? Fear? Happiness? Relief? Actually, whose emotions were you even trying to read? Either way, it was about as clear as heavy fog. Those emotions were only dogpiled onto when you felt a rough, but gentle hand cup your chin to make you look at him. Out of all the ways you’d envisioned your death, suspense was definitely not one of them.

Fortunately, his following sentence eased your nerves as fast as they’d been created.

“…Enough to let me steal your seat in the meeting room?”

523 notes · View notes

seenoversundown · 4 months

Text

Sparrow Of the Dawn : Chapter 1

Sam x Willa (Fem OC) Warnings: Alcohol / Mentions of drinking, brotherly banter, dark humor/mentions of death (if you squint), otherwise silly boys being boys.

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary : Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

Authors Note: AHHHHH I can’t wait for everybody to read and I hope you all love it as much as I do!! I’m so excited and nervous, feels like I’m waiting for the midnight premiere of Deathly Hallows (part 2) all over again 🥹😭💜

Flower Power - Greta Van Fleet “She’s a sparrow of the dawn, our love is born”

“Oh, HEY,” Jake says sarcastically the second he opens the front door, “Nice of you to show up, Jackass,” huffing out a laugh as he shuts the door behind me. The scuffed-up cherry wood floor creaks under the weight of our feet as I follow him over to where he had been organizing new stock behind the bar.

“Right.. aaand where’s my paycheck again?” I retort, sliding onto my regular spot and dropping my camera bag next to me. The spot in the dead center of the bar has been claimed as mine since before Jake even opened, the stool now complete with my etched initials SFK under the cushion.

“Time is money, brother, and I lend you mine for free, so you get me when I’m free. Which apparently to you means 9 a.m.?” I say, clasping my hands on the bartop, “So please, tell me what is so important that I needed to be here so early.” He sourly smirks back at me.

“Yeah, yeah. I have a few new ones in for you to shoot, and I’d like to get it done before we get busy today.” He picks up his clipboard, eyeing his stock list.

“We finally got the pomegranate Downeast released last month that was on backorder, as well as the pear and the guava passion fruit. Then we have ‘Reciprocal’ from Bissell Bros here in Portland, and ‘Interchangeable #7’ from Blaze Brewing in Biddo. I’d really like to get the blaze shot for our ads because it has the most interesting can art. But, ya know, I trust you.” He reads off.

A year ago, Jake, my older brother, bought this bar located right here in the heart of the Old Port. Back in his senior year of high school he got really into “Black Sails”, this pirate TV show; he practically made it his personality. Naturally, he decided he wanted to run a bar for the rest of his life, so when old man Chuck decided to retire, Jake jumped at the opportunity to purchase it. “Caravel Tavern” has only been open for 6 months and It's been his baby ever since.

“Wow, Jake Kiszka putting trust in ME? Are you feeling okay?” I feign shock grabbing at my heart.

“Just get it done, you idiot,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Alright, alright,” I say, glancing over the options. “Give me like an hour. I have an idea that might work. I need to head to the farmer’s market in town, but I can have the best shots edited and emailed to you tomorrow, and then we can pick the best ones for print.” I grab my bag, digging around for my car keys. “Hey, when is Josh in today? I’d like to get some shots of you guys pouring drinks for the website and Instagram for Josh’s intro post.”

“He should be here by the time you’re done with everything. That is if he’s on time. But let's be realistic, when is a Kiszka ever on time?” He replies as he breaks down boxes with a box cutter.

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I take a right onto the gravel that’s set behind the farmers market, my rusty 92’ Ford F-150 rattling as I park. I hope to god it’s just a heat shield making that noise. I cannot afford another repair on Edith. She may be an old crotchety bitch, but she has my whole heart. Well, right behind Penelope, my Bernese mountain dog, Penny girl will always be my number one.

Ding

I put her in park and shove my hand into my backpack blindly searching for the source of the text tone. Finally finding my phone Tweedle Dum🦞 appears on the screen.. I let out a giggle.

We’re running a special on whiskey sours tonight pick up some eggs, princess.

I switch Jake and Josh’s contact name back and forth between tweedle dee and tweedle dum mainly to keep them on their toes, but I’d be lying if I said tweedle dum isn’t just whoever has pissed me off or been dubbed the biggest dumbass that week. The emojis always stay the same so I can keep them actually straight though.

You got it, boss, I send back to Jake, winning the title this week for making me wake up at the ass crack of 9am. Which absolutely is early for me.

Gathering my things, I step out of my truck, immediately being hit with a cold gust of wind, the air causing my eyes to water slightly. I brush away a tear forming in my eye before it threatens to fall down my cheek. For it being the end of March the air is crispier than normal. I pause a moment too long, and a shiver runs through my body. I zip my jacket up a little higher, trying to preserve my body heat. Making sure I have my mesh bag with me, I shut my door and head over to the booths.

I make a beeline for Linda, a sweet older woman who is here every week selling chicken eggs, various fruits from her garden, and some knick-knack crafts she makes. I have about seven bowl koozies, though I’m not sure I even own as many bowls considering it’s just me, but they are really good for ramen and ice cream. Which I do not eat together. Jake and Josh live in the apartment above the bar, so when I moved back after college, I got an apartment a couple roads away to stay close.

Our parents moved out of our small hometown, which sits just on the other side of Portland. Padded off to Apple Valley, Georgia trying to settle into a warmer climate or something. They bought a house big enough for just the two of them and a guest room on an acre of land, “just in case any of you boys come to visit” Mom said. In all honesty, Apple Valley is just the same town, different state. They always said they didn’t like the city because it was too big, which is funny to me after spending the last four years in Boston. Everything here seems much smaller now.

“Morning Linda!” I smile and wave at her.

“Oh, Samuel. You’re up early this week. How are you doing, Sweetheart? How’s my Daniel?” She flashes me a warm smile. She’s also Daniel’s biggest fan. Pretty sure she only comes into the bar to see him, even though I met her first. But what can I say? I’m apparently an excellent matchmaker; we just won't mention the fact that she's 72.

I chuckle, “I’m just out running some errands for Jake. I’m on call today, apparently. Daniel’s good though! He misses you, ya know.” I finish flashing her a wink.

She lets out a high-pitched laugh, “I’ll be down to visit with Miss Eleanor. You tell him not to worry.” She raises an eyebrow and smirks at me, “Anyway, what can I get ya my dear?”

“Think two dozen will do it for today.” I hand her a crumpled ten-dollar bill in exchange, “Keep the change, Lin. I’ll see you at the bar or next Saturday, whichever comes first.” I set the eggs carefully in my tote and head toward my next stop, the flower truck.

The beer I’m photographing for the bar has a brightly colored logo in a style reminiscent of comic book art. A bold red can with yellow, blue, and purple adorning the signature name. My idea is to use a bouquet of different flowers to accent the colors and make the can pop.

I scan through the metal buckets, trying to mentally piece together an arrangement without disturbing the flowers too much. They are far too delicate to be pulling and yanking on them just to try them out for size. Some of the people here, like Linda, make their living posting up every Saturday.

I reach for a bundle of forget-me-nots, settling on those along with the last of the remaining Irises, a few red Dahlias, Daffodils, and Butterfly Milkweed. Taking a step back slightly away from the displays, I start to rearrange the bouquet to my liking. Extending my arms out in front of me, and changing my angle to make sure I like how the flowers look together. Just as I decide that, yes, these will do for what their intended purpose is, I feel someone aggressively poking my bicep.

I turn toward the person attached to the finger. Not going to lie; I’m a bit impressed by the force of it, considering I’m wearing a sweater under my quilted jacket, and the woman who’s doing the poking is standing at about 5 foot nothing and looks like a swift breeze might carry her away. I blink slowly at her a few times and raise my eyebrows waiting expectedly.

“Did someone die, or did you just fuck up like, wicked bad?” the snark heavily laden on her tone.

I close my eyes and let out a long breath, “Uhm, it’s uhh –” I stutter a bit, really trying to play it up, “My grandma died last week, actually. Did you know her? Her name was Althea.” I gaze down at my shoes and drop my head a bit, taking a moment before I attempt to look for her reaction through my eyelashes. If I held my breath long enough, I might just be able to work up a tear. Would that be too dramatic? .. maybe.

“Oh.. uh. No, I didn’t. I’m sor–” Regret immediately paints her face.

“I’m fucking with you.” I let out a small laugh

“What?” her eyes narrow at me, trying to figure out if I’m lying or telling the truth.

“I’m joking, my grandma is fine. Are you okay? Or is it a normal occurrence for you to ask a complete stranger if they’re mourning a dead relative?" Amusement settles on my face.

She lets out an audible groan. Why is she so angry? She tugs down at the sides of her short floral dress and waves a hand out toward my arrangement.

“Why on earth do you need every single purple flower!?” She exclaims, “And who jokes about their grandma dying?” stamping her beaten-up Doc Marten into the patchy grass. She actually stomped her foot at me. What are we twelve?

I roll my eyes and attempt to alleviate the situation, “Bachelor Buttons.”

I have work to do and absolutely do not need an attitude from a complete stranger, even if she is cute. I have brothers for that purpose, and they do their jobs well enough.

“They’re mostly purple but with a bit of blue. They symbolize love if you’re trying to give them to someone important.” I scratch the back of my head and briefly hope she says she’s not. I immediately throw the thought away with a shake of my head. Nope, not opening that door.

“I don’t need Bachelor Buttons.”

“.. ookaay. You could always d –”

“I need Irises.” She says, cutting me off, “Specifically. Okay? And I’m fine, but if I can't find irises today because of you count *poke* your *poke* days!” she ends her sentiment with a final sharp poke to my chest and storms away. God damn, her finger is like a tiny dagger.

Listen, growing up without any sisters means I don’t know much about women, but what I do know .. is definitely never believe one when they say they’re fine.

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As I walk through the door of Caravel Tavern for the second time today, I call out, “Okay, Jake, I’m back with your eggs, Asshole. Where are you?”

I set my camera bag and the eggs down and lean over the counter, checking to see if he’s kneeling behind the bar top.

“.. Jake?” I look side to side. Where the hell is he? It’s the middle of the day, not nearly early enough for lunch.. Not like the guy takes a break anyway.

“JAKE WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” I yell through my cupped hands. The sound echoes through the empty space.

He comes running from the back room, a panic written on his face. “Jesus Christ, Sam, what?”

“Got your eggs.” grinning wildly at him. I swear I'm actually his favorite brother.

“Well, thanks, Samuel, for being useful for one thing today.” He says, before changing his tone, “You okay? You look a bit tense?”

“Yeah,” absentmindedly, my hand drifts to my shoulder, rubbing at the area where angry-flower-girl poked me earlier. “Actually, you’ll never believe what happened to me at the farmers market.”

He’s not looking at me when he hums his response, just putting the eggs in the mini fridge next to the ice well. I slide the second carton over to him.

“I ran into this girl, actually, she ran into me rather. I was picking out the bouquet arrangement for the photos I want to take and she sorta.. Came at me poking?”

He slowly stands and looks at me, his brow furrowed a bit. “She.. came at you?” He pauses. “Poking?”

“Poking,” I point to my shoulder in disbelief.

“Okay, and what did this poking girl want?”

“To yell at me for taking all the irises. I tried to do the gentlemanly thing and suggest an alternative, but she poked me some more and stomped off. She was hot as hell even if she was a bit psychotic.”

“Well, why did you take all the irises? You also could have taken the other- wait, “ Jake pauses, turning to face me head-on. He sets the empty carton on the counter, “No, whatever you’re thinking about, cut it out,” He points at me, “Did you forget about the last ‘cute but insane’ girl?”

“Hey, she wasn’t that bad! AND she was really hot?!” both hands raised.

“Sam, she cracked your windshield” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Just as I’m about to further protest, “Cracked windshield? We’re not talking about ‘the Bride of Chucky’ are we?” Josh says

“Oh, come on guys, you can say her name. And again.. She wasn't that bad.”

“No, every time you say her name she comes back like Voldemort, and none of us need that shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Get your ass clocked in so I get your headshots done, and you can get to work lest Jake have a stroke.” I lean toward Josh and whisper, “You’re already late.”

“When isn��t he late?” Jake sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Well,” Josh claps his hands together, “it is clearly time for my close-up. Sammy, let’s get this shit fest over with.”

Oh, Josh, ever the dramatic brother.

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I don’t spend a ton of time taking Josh’s photos, grateful that he isn’t afraid of the camera. I barely have to direct him, which makes my life that much easier. If he could work on just not being a pain in the ass the rest of the time, that’d be great.

A few goodbyes later, and I’m finally off to edit. Putting all my things into the passenger seat and giving my truck some words of encouragement, the engine turns over. Thank fucking god. I live fairly close to the bar, so I decide to not bother with the radio and just listen to whatever comes my way.

Still thinking about the poking girl, mostly because my chest was sore. I didn’t expect to be stabbed today. I do hope she found her Irises…

‘Now I don’t hardly know her, but I think I could love her,’

I turn the volume up on the radio, hoping it’ll help me focus on driving and not thinking about her.

I make it back home, throwing the truck in park and hustling up to my apartment. I’m quickly greeted by my bundle of joy. I set all my things out to edit on the counter and take care of Miss P before I start working.

Taking a walk is probably what I needed to do anyway.

I got Penelope right after I graduated and moved back up here. Being used to a house full of people to just living alone was.. well, lonely. I think I lasted only a few months living alone before I gave in and went to find a pet. The twins suggested a cat because they’re fairly low maintenance, and their plan was to get a couple cats once their lives settled a bit. Settled ended up being right around when Jake bought the bar, I would hardly call that settled, but it worked out for them. Me on the other hand, I’m more of a dog person. As soon as I saw Penny, I knew she’d be my adventure buddy, coming with me on my walks and hikes and photography trips. It’s definitely easier with a dog, despite what Josh says about how easy it is to train a cat with a harness to adventure with you.

Once she is settled in after our walk, I sit down to edit for a while. Pulling up the photos of Josh, something seems off. Why are half of these out of focus? I think to myself, scrolling through the options. If he could have just stopped talking for two seconds, this one would have looked good. The longer I scroll through the options, the more annoyed I get. Why did she poke me so fucking hard? Finding myself rubbing the spot on my chest, I force myself to get up for a minute. Maybe I just need to walk around. Wandering into my bathroom, I pull the collar of my shirt down to see the spot, if it doesn’t actually bruise, I’ll be SHOCKED.

Sitting back down, I take one look at the photo I've been trying to salvage, letting out a sigh. This is awful.

Me: hey I’m not super happy with how Josh’s pics came out.. Do you care if I just borrow him in the morning to get some new ones?

Me: Not at 6am tho- it’ll be Sunday, The Lord’s day, and he would want me to get my beauty rest.

Tweedle Dum🦞: lol that’s fine bud

Me: I may come back for a drink tho. Shit has me STRESSED.

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“God, Sam, don’t you ever leave?” Josh calls from behind the bar.

“You’d think I was tired of looking at your ugly mug all day, but guess not.” My lips wind into a tight smile. “Can I actually get a drink? I’m annoyed as fuck that I hate all the pictures I took today, and a drink sounds like the perfect remedy.”

“Turning to alcohol to solve your problems, hmm?”

“Shhhhh,” I wave my hands in front of me. “Can I get a Clover Club, maybe? In a whiskey glass.. No garnish. I don’t wanna look like a little bitch.” I groan

“Let your freak flag fly, brother,” spinning away to go make my drink and tend to the other patrons seated down the bar top.

This drink really better do the trick so I can relax for five minutes. Honestly, the pressure I put on myself to make sure I do well for Jake’s pride and joy, along with trying to find my own way with a full-time job is a little exhausting. It’s hard knowing that Caravel is his baby; he really doesn’t have much else going on. I swear if he got laid, he’d be a hell of a lot less uptight about it, but I digress. I don’t totally feel like I’m the most reliable person, but I try to make sure he can count on me and I don’t contribute to his stress. Ya know, he’s my brother, and I want him to be as proud of me as I am of him for doing what he loves so much. I don’t think I tell him enough how proud I really am of him. He’s someone I look to for inspiration for trying to pave my own way. I’d never tell him that though, because he’d probably think I was yanking his chain or something. I have a job trial-type thing down in Boston later this week, and I’m really hoping it turns out to be something good. I could use something good right now.

Josh interrupts my thoughts, setting my drink down, “Just how you asked for it in a cocktail glass with extra garnish.”

I sigh audibly, “Ya know, I don’t even care. Gimme it.” I gulp it down in nearly one go. Josh looks surprised at me. Whether it’s because of my eagerness or because he knows I’m terrible at holding my alcohol, I’m not sure. I don’t care.

“One more.” I close my eyes, waiting for the gin to work its magic on me. Feeling my muscles relax bit by bit, my brow finally straightens out, and I sink down against the wall closest to my seat. I sigh audibly again, though this time it’s one of relief.

The longer I sit here, the more people are trickling in. Sipping on my drink this time, I notice people in all sorts of outfits looking vaguely like anime characters. Gathering in little cliques of friend groups, a few interesting folk bouncing from table to table. I can't tell if time is moving incredibly fast or if the alcohol has made me move slower, but suddenly, I have the realization that it’s packed in here. Since opening, they’ve been able to handle everything behind the bar, just the two of them, with Daniel manning the door, but I don’t think they’re equipped to handle whatever event these people are overflowing from.

I swig back the last sip of my drink, grab my glass, and make my way to the back room. I toss the raspberry garnish before setting the glass in the sink to be washed. Grabbing the ice bucket, I start to fill it to make sure the front is stocked for them; ice is usually always the first thing to go. I lug the full bucket back behind the bar, and refill the ice well.

“Thanks, Sammy. Hey, would you mind bussing some of the tables and asking the people with tabs if they need any refills, please? I’ll make sure I put you on the payroll for the night,” Jake asks, eyes pleading and desperate for help. And really, who am I to say no to him?

“Of course I can. I’ve got nothing else better to do anyway.” I start to reach for a tray.

“Thanks. I mean it.” he says, squeezing my shoulder, “I forgot PortCon was happening, and we’re close to one of the hotels.” He explains before returning to the drink he's making.

That explains the costumes. I do my rounds checking to make sure everyone seated in the booths are okay, grabbing the empty drinks out of their way, making light conversation when I can. I bring a tray of glasses, napkins, and various random trash items back behind the bar and set them in the bin next to Jake. Just as I go to take another trip, my eyes catch the door. Of course. Of course, this would happen to me. I can’t have a single day go smoothly if my life depended on it. Good God, someone is out to get me, I swear.

“Fuck me,” I say out loud.

“Who is that?” Jake says to me as he’s working on his current drink order.

“The angry-flower-girl with the dagger fingers,” I pause, looking at the dude standing next to her, “annnd her date.”

“Oh shit.”

Crimson and Clover - Tommy James and the Shondells

“Now I don't hardly know her But I think I could love her Crimson and clover”

<- Prologue Chapter Two ->

Masterpost | Taglist | Jukebox Playlist

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust, @myleftsock, @mindastreamofcolours, @dont-go-home-without-me, @literal-dead-leaf, @lizzys-sunflower, @threadofstars, @mackalah, @klarxtr, @edgingthedarkness, @writingcold, @i-love-gvf, @takenbythemadness, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @ourlovesdesire, @peaceloveunitygvf, @anythingforjtk

50 notes · View notes

surfinminho · 7 months

Text

Tell me

Genre: Suggestive(?), angst

Warnings: Chan is readers ex, gn!reader, fwb

Word count: 780

_________________________________________

"you want water?" He asked. You hummed in reply staring up at the ceiling.

You always liked pillow talk. Specifically with Chan. It was always different, funny or quiet a. It interchanges every time.

You aren't supposed to be here though. No where near him.

He dumped you 2 years ago over text. Yea he knows that was a bitchy move. He deserved all the hatred you can give to him.

Regardless, as soon as he sends you a birthday text it was hard to deny you still had feelings for him.

You didn't mean for it to happen. One thing led to another and you guys ended up naked in your bed.He fucked you the same way he always did. Till' you guys broke it off of course.You do miss him and the sex. Maybe not the way he would constantly ignore you, going days if Not weeks not uttering a single word to you.

He wasnt a great boyfriend but you couldn't help but like him more than you ever did.

It's pathetic really. All your friends tried to get you to stop liking him. Even set you up with other guys! But nothing worked, you wanted Chris back.

So when you end up in his bed for the nth time. You wonder. Wondered if this whole "friends with benefits" thing is even going to work out.

Staring at the ceiling, you let out a rough sigh with worries him.

"What's up?" Voice laced with sleep, even though he's not getting any.

"Chan, be honest with me. Can you do that?" You sit up slightly to face him in his eyes.

You see him nod before continuing.

"Why did you break up with me." you were genuinely curious. Even with the amount of small petty fights you guys would have, your love was never lost. People even referred to you guys as soulmates. Its like you guys were meant to be.

To randomly break it off, hurt and confused you.

"I.." he trails off like he's trying to make up an excuse. An excuse to not hurt your feelings.

"Making up excuses. Nothings changed has it." You scoff turning around.

"There is no excuses, '__'. I loved you I did it's just-" you cut him off before he could finish his stupid confession.

"Reject me."

"What?"

"I said reject me. I need you to reject me so I can move on with my life." You turned to the nightstand to check the time.

"1:36 A.M" you weren't supposed to be here. Lying next to him in his bed. Naked, With the feeling of unreciprocated love deep in your chest.

" __ , I can't say I don't like you, I love you. But I just can't date you." He grabs your hand and entangles it with his own.

You felt your heart drop. You wanted to be with him for ever. For eternity even. You still loved him, even after two years.

"I broke up with you, because of you. For you. I can't stay with you without feeling any guilt. I hardly saw you, we would go weeks without talking for fucks sake." He paused to take a slight breather. Not wanting to get mad over something so little.

"I can't say this enough, I love you."

"You do?"

"I do love you"

"This isn't what love is Chris." you didn't want to cry. Cry over a conversation you started. Unfortunately, Crying was inevitable.

"We can't be together, I don't want to hurt you" he tried to reason.

"You don't get to make that decision. You aren't hurting me. I still need you." By this point, you were ready to breakdown in his arms. You had to stay strong, not to let your emotions take over this stupid thing you want to call a conversation.

"I was a bad boyfriend. You deserve someone who can be there for you, always talking to you, keeping you company when it's late at night. I am not that guy. Believe me baby I want to be with you. It wouldn't work out." Was he crying? He didn't know. He didn't know what he felt. All of it was just mush.

"You are that person. You are, please." You were begging at this point. Begging for someone to see themselves like you see them.

You swing a leg over his lap to get closer to him.

"For us, please." Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He doesn't say anything. Instead he looks you in your eyes, grabbing your chin before kissing you.

His hands slipped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You felt him press his lips deeper into yours before pulling away.

"We can try."

#stray kids #surfinminho #skz x reader #skz x you #skz angst #bang chan #skz bangchan #bangchan angst

84 notes · View notes

tavyliasin · 4 months

Text

The Abdirak Essay - Fandom, Pain, and Loviatar's Love

Another day, another Lia Essay - and if you're really really deliciously sinful my very dear darlings, I shall give you yet more when the sun rises again upon the morrow. So, today in Niche Fandom Adoration Hours, I give you:

For The Love of Loviatar: Why Discomfort Can Be Delightful, How Agony Alleviates Anguish, and All The Ways Abdirak Fans Are Also TavyliaSin's Very Favourite People (Who Also Probably Need A Hug) ((Do We Love The Long Titles?)) (((If No, Consider This Essay Title Part Of Your Penitance)))

The themes of this essay will discuss: BDSM, Kink, Chronic Pain, wounds/injury, Acute Pain, Mental Health, mentions of harmful behaviours, a discussion of psychological elements from someone with absolutely no formal training or experience, vague mentions of trauma, and the magic of friendship. So please make sure you are in a comfortable place within yourself if you feel any of the above might be difficult to read for any reason. It is ok to skip sections as each has a topic header, or you can leave at any time. Nobody is judging you for that at all. Additionally, NSFW discussion further through, so minors DNI as usual. Very little of my blog will ever be suitable for under 18s, for your safety and for mine. Editing in to add a link to the Abdirak fandom gift to chronic pain pals A Cameo from Declan (Abdirak's Performer) (Fully SFW)

All that said, the main theme of this piece is actually:

To truly understand suffering is to avoid being its cause.

So, let's understand what "Suffering" is first, shall we, Dear Ones?

The Difference between Pain and Suffering

Lia hasn't completely lost the plot darlings, the two words may seem almost interchangeable but they are not. At the very least, this is the interpretation I have and the discussion that follows will stick with it too~ Pain is the sensation itself, whether physical or mental, it is the hurt, the bruise pressed upon, the moment a heart breaks. That is pain. Suffering on the other hand, is the effect that the pain has. It is the anguish, the torment, the overwhelm and the exhaustion. So, whilst two people might have the same pain, let's say a stubbed toe for a simple example, their suffering might be very different. One might feel able to walk it off, maybe swear a little and move on. Another might need to sit immediately, feel tears in their eyes, or even become utterly overcome by misery from the intense sensation. This might sound like a difference in tolerance, but it can also be seen as taking the bigger picture into account. One brick might not feel so heavy to someone with empty hands, but added to a pile of bricks already carried it may feel as if it weighs a dozen times as much.

What about Abdirak? How does he relate to Pain and Suffering?

When I first heard Abdirak speak, I knew he understood this concept to its very core. His goddess wants pain, but in himself he does not seem to want actual suffering. He does draw a different line, with pain being physical and suffering being the mental aspect, however the principles are very close to my own. Some people might see Abdirak and judge him as cruel, as a torturer delighting in anguish, but that could not be further from the truth. When he speaks of delivering pain with a loving hand, that really is meant. When he was speaking to the player character, for a moment I felt so intensely seen when he speaks of seeing a greater suffering.

"Forgive me, but that look in your eyes - something terrible has happened to you. ...I see those same eyes when I look in the mirror, dear one."

This, to me, was such a moment. He recognises trauma easily, and we also have this chance here to either interpret this as "oh, right, the tadpole stuff, the things in the game" or we can allow our own feelings about a player character's backstory as the interpretation of what he has seen. Either way, he immediately offers to alleviate that suffering with pain, something he is familiar with, something he knows to help from personal experience. There's the important point. His motivation is not to cause hurt, but to relieve it.

How does pain make anything better?

Deep breaths loves we're getting to the heart of a few things here and it may get heavy. At the most basic broken down level, right at the bottom of everything, it's about distraction. Pain is instant, sharp, a sensation that draws our nerves tight and fires off that electricity directly into our brains. It takes our attention and focus away from whatever else is on our minds. Usually? This would be detrimental, to be unable to concentrate on something because pain is intruding. However, think back here, "delivered with a loving and measured hand." This is precise pain, sensation that is welcomed and applied with expert care in order to reach that point right between where pain is suffering and where it cuts out the thoughts. BDSM darlings will know this as similar to "subspace" which I will discuss later~ Whilst there is some short term benefit to using strong sensation to distract the mind and alleviate intense distress, if taken into real life scenarios there are a lot of things to consider, and it is far better to speak with a therapist. Though the most commonly suggested low-harm methods can be things like gripping an ice cube for a minute or two, or even something like exercise that can push the mind to focus on the body instead of the source of the distress. The element of penance is also there. Abdirak brings to the fore those thoughts of struggle and guilt, so those are the thoughts that are stripped back by the physical pain. It's intentional, careful, and taps at the other core of using pain to alleviate suffering.

Why we love Abdirak, and the importance of recognising the weight of unwarranted guilt.

Remember my little villain essay? Back then I spoke of how a love for villains can also come from the way we are prone to judge ourselves unfairly, to heap undeserved guilt at our own feet, and to believe every slight mistake to be a heinous sin. Sorry, darlings, the only heinous "sin" you are allowed to believe in is me. Name puns aside... Part of the draw is indeed right there, believing ourselves deserving of punishment it's appealing to want to submit to that and find absolution from everything we judge ourselves for. And yet, it isn't a horrific thing, it's coloured by love and affection. The Love of Loviatar from Abdirak does not ignore that first part. But I do encourage you, if you are feeling particularly called out right now, to stop seeking punishment for things that are objectively not your fault, and instead treat yourself with kindness and forgiveness. By all means continue to indulge in our beloved priest of Pain and the joy he brings, but do so without any negative self-assessment, alright? Good, I'm glad we agre- THAT MEANS ALL OF YOU. No exceptions.

And what of the Fandom?

Ahh Abdirak fandom. Small, loving, welcoming, and utterly devoted~ Similarly to villain fandom (Abdirak is obviously not a villain, but is arguably villain-coded), his fandom also draws a lot of kindness and understanding. Despite how we might see ourselves, we are remarkably free from judgement in how we treat each other. There's endless encouragement, genuine warmth, and alongside spicy takes that might make lava look like a suitable spot for ice fishing there's a profound amount of respect and consent. By which I mean, there's no shame. There's no allowance for "I hate that character you like", or "that kink is bad because I don't like it". Tags and CWs are applied to posts and works with care and nobody is treated poorly for enjoying what (or who) they enjoy in the fictional space. To go back to the quote at the start of this essay, "to truly understand suffering is to avoid being its cause." I feel the vast majority of us have that depth of insight and recognition for suffering and have the empathy required to wish to avoid it. And that is why I would perhaps feel safest in the company of Abdirak fans (and likewise Raphael fans), there's another level of connection in those tadpoles~ Which leads me neatly forwards to...

Endurance: Abdirak and Chronic Pain Sufferers

Here, loves, we're going to get a bit more personal. Those of us with chronic pain conditions may find an even deeper connection. So I'll go over a little for those who are fortunate enough to not have personal experience here: Chronic Pain - This applies to pain which is constant or frequently recurring, that lasts (and/or is expected to last) for more than 3 months. It's not like a broken bone that heals and has an end, it's not like a few headaches that come and go with little consequence, it is either always present or always on the edge of flaring up at any time. It's different to acute pain, because most conditions have no cure, many barely have any treatment so all one can do is try to endure the worst of it. The other side-symptoms can be reduction in physical ability, exhaustion, mental health difficulties (because for some odd reason constant pain is not a path to happiness), low self esteem, and of course carrying the guilt of feeling like a burden if you need help from others (you are not a burden, and anyone who says so can receive the blessing of forever feeling like there is a stone in their shoe that they cannot find). As an aside, this can apply to chronic mental health struggles too - it is still pain, only a different kind. Though I will be looking primarily at physical pain here, as that's where Abdirak's focus is. Now, where are we going with this? The difference here is in how pain is treated. Abdirak speaks of pain as a wonderful thing, as something that is sought after, that is a way of worshipping Loviatar. This is something that might feel strange to someone who is plagued by pain, but there's another quote I'd like us to remember.

"Pain without purpose is a terrible thing, wouldn't you agree?"

Chronic pain has no purpose. It's there whether by illness or injury, or some other unseen cause. It was not a choice, it doesn't bring any relief, and often it drags us right down with it.

"Please let me alleviate this pain."

And there's another line, one we wish we could hear, one we wish so very deeply in the core of our being that we could believe. That there could be someone who could bring an end to the pain even if only for a brief time, a fleeting hope of relief.

How fanworks can be a means of coping with chronic pain.

So here's the next point... What in all the hells do I mean, how can fanworks help a single thing? Well, have some personal moments. I had a deeply unpleasant flare up the other night, so I put out a brief ask to writing groups for some comforting fiction shorts. In the past, I've written a few myself - like these: Abdirak - Migraine Comfort Yurgir - Migraine Comfort Tav - General Comfort, with Audio Multi-Character Comfort Drabbles (Including Abdirak) Full AO3 fic of Abdirak x Chronic Pain Reader (Spicy, NSFW)

These are the two I received from some writers very dear to my heart who have more talent and skill than I could ever hope to aspire to in their works. Elfvamp (who does not have tumblr) (image description is attached to the image)

and this one from @morb-untamed

Darlings, when I tell you there were tears in my eyes at these, I mean it. THIS is just an example of the understanding and compassion possible in the community, the care and consideration, and the emotion that words can carry through them that make things genuinely feel more bearable in the moment of distress. Both captured something that it took me too long to realise. Perhaps what follows might sound entirely unreasonable or unhinged, but for someone like myself who has not known a single second of what "0%" feels like in over 10 years, it's beginning to seem far more sane by the moment. What if, within the confines of my mind, I try to rewrite the understanding of pain as something different. Just tell myself each new pain is an offering to some vile deity who has decided my mortal vessel is worthy of enduring, rather than one that is being punished with suffering. Breathe through it and listen to those character voices, find my own purpose to the pain. Let it become inspiration, note it down, get that visceral and intimate knowledge to the page instead. Naturally, this probably isn't a healthy coping mechanism, nor one that is infallible, but there have been moments recently where thinking that has made the moderate levels less distressing, easier to tolerate for a time. Perhaps it could do the same for you, but perhaps not, either way - it is there. Please do read through the comfort pieces too, and if you would like to see more - even ones with more specific aims and pains, please do just ask and I will make them happen. Either through my ask box, or in comments/reblogs, or any other way you wish to contact me honestly.

Alright, Tavylia, we've covered personal pain, but you promised NSFW discussion!

Oh my very dear darlings I had not forgotten this part~ You may here people talk about "good pain" and "bad pain", and wonder how/why pain can ever be good. It's not just about a physical hurt sensation or using that as a distraction. Pain can cause a rush of adrenaline, and even endorphins - similar to how people enjoy extreme sports, horror films, or theme parks, it's a pleasant feeling from something that would usually be scary, because it's safe and controlled. Falling from a high place? That's terrifying, dangerous. Parachuting safely from that same high place? It's controlled, there's no real danger, but the feeling of danger brings that adrenaline rush. There's the key. In real life BDSM there is control in the safe signal, in knowing it can and will stop when needed, that although there is someone causing pain they will stop at a moment's notice. (Anyone who does not respect a safe word/signal is not someone you should be in that situation with, if you are engaging in or want to try BDSM with real partners please PLEASE do your research on safety, that's too long a lecture to add here) In the context of fiction, we can go a lot further. Could a real person easily withstand Abdirak hitting them with an axe in their back? Obviously not, that's far too much. But this is a world with magical healing, and our fantasy and fiction is quite safe to extend where we find is interesting. So when reading - and especially writing - with pain and pain play, I encourage you to remember these links to adrenaline, endorphins, and that it isn't about harm, it's far deeper, and finding an understanding of that (even if you never wish to experience it) might be of some benefit to understanding those around you who have this intimate relationship with pain.

A title for the End

I think I've covered a lot here, but I do just want to round us off now. If you have any questions about this topic (or any of my other essay posts), please do feel free to ask - that's why my box is there, for all kinds of discussions to open up. Not just for smut and creative writing, but for all the ways we connect with fiction and characters. There is so much more than a single story being told, each of us experiences it through the lens of our own experience, we all find our connections in different ways, and I will have more character essays on this later. There's so much more to see, to learn, from all the interpretations throughout the fandom. I'm very grateful to be here to witness it, and for you being here to share in these thoughts and explore them more with me. Pain can teach us many things, about ourselves and others. Empathy, kindness, compassion - when we know how much we need them ourselves, we begin to see how much others may need it too. Much like how Abdirak sees the pain behind the player character's eyes, and feels that strong desire to help in the ways he knows how.

A Final Note for the Pain Pals

To my Chronic Pain Pals, darlings you do not always have to be strong. It's alright. It will not break you entirely to let go of that incessant need to try and quietly endure. Find those places it is safe to let it out, look for those tricks you can use on your brain to make Loviatar's Favour just a little more bearable. You are worthy of kindness, support, and compassion. The same you are likely giving of yourself to everyone else. You are not a burden, these are pains you do not choose, and you deserve something more gentle without any guilt attached to it. You are also not alone, find community, find those who understand.

Pain without purpose...but have we given it one now?

So I hope this time the pain has had a purpose in teaching, in helping us connect in new ways, to find compassion and understanding. Until next time, Dear Ones, look after yourselves.

Oh hey look I know who made that gif that came up in the search~ What an absolutely wonderful coincidence ;) (And a final final footnote, hello Abdirak fan community, you are perfect and I wish you nothing but the best in all things)

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #abdirak #chronic pain #fandom essay #pain #pain and pleasure #comfort in fanfiction #comfort in fiction #coping with pain #the best fandom corners can be in the most unexpected places #the lessons pain can teach #to understand suffering is to avoid being its cause

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caaaatoad · 1 year

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Hi!! 💞💞 I do have a request if its not too much! Id really appreciate it.

Could I perhaps request a Kaeya/Thoma/Kazuha cuddling hc’s?

i love these boys with all my heart <3

A/N: OFC THANK you for your request!!!❤️❤️❤️

Cuddling Headcannons (Kaeya, Thoma, Kazuha)

fluff/ hurt/comfort

Kaeya

Loves, LOVES to cuddle with you

His love language is physical touch, so he actually needs cuddles from you his lovely s/o

Initially, he is a bit shy to cuddle with you. You would have to suggest it and be the one to initiate it at first. Even then he’ll be a bit awkward, laughing a bit too often to brush off his nervousness. He wouldn’t be totally obvious, but the moment you lay on his chest - his arms finally secured around your waist instead of hanging in the air, wondering where to go - his heart is hammering.

If you comment on it, or tease him, he’ll be a flustered mess. His facade would finally drop and he’d bury his head into your shoulder, or hug you tightly so your face is buried in his chest to obscure your view of his face.

However, if you show him mercy, even though he never returns this favour with his flustering antics - gently rubbing his back, or playing with his hair will calm him down. He would sigh softly, shutting his eyes and basking in your scent.

The affection and closeness is surreal to him.

If you’re really gentle with this man, he’ll break slightly. He might tear up a little, but he would never let you see. It would take months, maybe even a year of being together, or establishing cuddling and affection a routine for him to really let you see him vulnerable.

Eventually, he is completely relaxed with the idea. He would initiate it far more often. Even as far as sneaking you into his office, and seating you on his lap and hugging you while he finishes up some dull paperwork. More often that not you both fell asleep in his office’s coach, legs and arms entangled with each other.

Only in his office though. Kaeya is fine with PDA, to a certain extent. He wouldn’t try to keep your relationship a secret, but he wouldn’t go out of his way to try to hide it either. Very neutral. He would hold your hand in public, and plant a quick kiss in town square if he won’t see you until dinner, but nothing more. Such intimacy like cuddling is reserved behind his closed doors: his office, or your shared home.

He usually asks for cuddles often. Without words whenever he’s not feeling well. Kaeya gets headaches, and being in your arms is the best pain reliever. Especially when you massage his scalp - the man turns into pudgy in your hands.

But mostly HES A TEASE… he flusters you so much. He’s usually a big spoon, and he tries to keep you on your toes out of fear you’ll get bored of him. With time he’ll become more comfortable, and he’ll be big spoon / little spoon interchangeably. He likes them both, it depends on his mood.

Teasing little snark = big spoon and grumpy, sad baby = little spoon

All in all, this man feels the most love when you both cuddle and he is EXTREMELY touch-starved for obvious reasons. Please just hold him😭😭

Thoma

SUCH A CUDDLE BUG

Golden retriever personality - he’s literally so happy to be by your side

Will get a bit shy at first, but he’s more excited than nervous

Face will get very flustered and the man is super blushy - loves to hold you or be held

Sometimes when he’s tired, he will just plop his head into your lap and ask you to play with his hair

Will give puppy dog eyes if you are too busy to cuddle him <3333

He will gently run his fingers through your hair, gently rubbing your back as you both fall to sleep together. His hands are warm because of his vision, but not too warm. On cold nights you will seek him out in your sleep, and by instinct, he’ll lazily wrap his arm around your waist and let you nuzzle into his side without even opening his eyes.

Has (more than once) lifted you up off your feet and fell back onto the coach with you on his chest. He’ll loosely wrap his arms around you and laugh at your cute squeak.

If you both cuddle a while, he’ll ask if you get hungry and you will have to physically prevent him from cooking up a storm for you for no reason🥺🥺

Super cuddly. Physical touch is his love language after acts of service so expect a lot of it<33

Kazuha

Not much of a cuddlier ACTUALLY

The man likes them, and will always say yes if you ask, but it’s not something’s he’d seek out on his own

Usually

Somedays when he’s tired.. he may lean his head on your shoulder, which usually ends up with you both laying down underneath a blanket a starts

Cuddles on the beach. Kazuha will let you snuggle up to him even if it means getting sand in his hair and scolds from the screw of lugging sand on the deck. He usually rests a hand on the small of your back, nothing more

Super content and calm with you, he loves you so much <333

He will recite poems to you, 99% of them are about you.

Kazuha talks to you. In these quiet moments, he’ll recite all his poems to you - SPOILER : they’re 99% about you

However, sometimes they aren’t, and you can tell. The words sound as they were stuck undersea, pulled from its depth and left to rot on the shore.

You hold him in these moments. His feelings are always fleeting, and not even the wind knows how you’re able to make them stay, long enough for the warmth of your embrace to soothe his heartaches.

#kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #thoma x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader fluff #genshin headcannons #kaeya headcanons #thoma headcanons #kazuha headcanons #fluff headcanons

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foxes-that-run · 2 months

Text

Part 2: 70 Heart Kisses (1D years)

This post is in three parts:

When Harry got the Heart tattoo

70 Heart Kisses (1D years), and

70 Heart Kisses continued. (Solo career)

The amazing @womanexile and @this-daydream-is-dangerous-13 started this off with finding a good chunk of these. This is by no means a complete list, I think that would be impossible.

It’s also important to note that only Harry knows what this tattoo is about, why he kisses it or if that is for one person and who that may be. Below is a list of times he has kissed it with other events at that time. To me, many kisses appear to be about personal milestones.

2013

In the 2013 timeline Harry and Taylor started the year infamously with the blue dress on a boat. Taylor went to London after Harry's birthday, they seemed neither together nor properly single.

12 March 2013 - Dublin - While Niall gave a speech referring to Ireland, his home, Harry kissed the heart. (1:07) Home is clearly special to Harry. Taylor had just sold her Hyannis Point House, in the EHC secret message, ‘August’ and ‘I Love You’.

21 April 2013 - Manchester before Back for You (1:20) this is before Harry went to LA during a break both he and Taylor had from tour, Harry started wearing the peace ring.

16 June 2013 - Louisville - Harry was feeling himself during “Last First Kiss” and at the end was flirting with someone in the crowd, he mimicked pole dancing then he kissed his heart tattoo (4:04). A few days before, Taylor was in London and did an interview with Nick Grimshaw where he said Best Song Ever 4 times and we saw the Never Gonna Dance tattoo for the first time as he got off a party boat. To me this kiss was similar in meaning to the song Careless Whisper - a commitment to be faithful. This is close to the anniversary of Taylors 2011 Lover Journal entry days after Harry was MIA in the US when Taylor had the Temper Trap arm lyrics in St Paul.

2 July 2013 - New Jersey - during “Change My Mind” (0:23) Harry had gotten the cross tattoo the day before and would be in the same city as Taylor soon.

6 July 2013 Hersey during One Way or Another (29 mins). Near Taylors first home while she was also in Pennsylvania and then not seen for 7 days. While Harry and Taylor were both in Pennsylvania, at the next show Harry threw up off stage.

7 July 2013 - Hersey - Last First Kiss, heart kiss at (0:17) (might be a nose wipe) after Niall gets a lyric wrong and other arm at (2:09)

2 August 2013 - Las Vegas - at the start of “Last First Kiss” (0:06). This was in the lead up to the VMAs which Harry and Taylor were texting each other and in the after party at. Taylor had a Lover Journal a week later where she describes the feeling in I Know Places.

13 October 2013 - Auckland - While watching Niall joke about being 'Niley Cyrus' before introducing Last First Kiss (0:17) and again after his chorus before Liam’s part (2:39).

17 October 2013 - Melbourne - after More Than This, (5:09) kissed the anatomical and black hearts. In the same show, Harry cried in Over Again and rushed off to vomit backstage. Taylor was seen with Alexander Skarsgard 3 days later.

2014

At the start of the 2014 Timeline Harry was seen backstage at Red when Taylor cut her hair. On Valentines Day Taylor posted a Shirley Temple quote “There’s nothing like real love” and Harry got the Anatomical Heart Tattoo, which he interchangeably kisses with the first heart tattoo. After this they were seemingly together again, Style and Stockholm Syndrome were written soon after. They were seen at parties together and Harry also got the fern tattoo covering “might as well…”.

8 May 2014 - Rio de Janeiro - in yellow shirt during “You and I” (1:21) on “Silence and sound / did they ever fight like us?” and again (2:38) “['I see what it's like for day and night / Never together,] Cause they see things in a different light like us” before the chorus, which he sang with his eyes closed, and again during Little Things (0:24) on ‘your hand fits in mine like it was meant to be’. The tour has only just started. Harry had been in the same city as Taylor since January. Harry kissed the heart on lyrics about being apart from his love and worrying about the relationship.

26 May 2014 - London- Niall’s charity football match, after scoring the penalty shot Harry hugged Niall then kissed his heart tattoo (1:22) 1D, Ed, Lorde and Lily Allen had played Radio 1 Big Weekend before this and Ed wrote 18 this week. Taylor was MIA, she had been in NY then reappeared a week later in Shanghai.

1 June 2014 - Manchester - start of Story of My Life (0:12) Harry Kissed things I can.

8 June 2014 - Wembley during ‘You and I’ (0:41) on “'Cause they see things in a different light like us” again. This was the last show before a week’s break, Harry wasn’t seen, Taylor had shows in Asia.

17 June 2014 - Copenhagen - ‘You and I’ (1:22)

30 August 2014 - Chicago - You and I (0:29) Last show before both Harry and Taylor are MIA.

13 September 2014 - Rose Bowl Los Angeles, during You and I on “did they ever hold each other tight like us?” (1:21) Harry had chest pains later in this show. Harry and Taylor had the week before off and both went from London and LA, 2 days earlier the Rolling Stone article ‘things you learn hanging out with Taylor Swift’ included: “now I go in thinking, ‘How long do we have on the clock — before something comes along and puts a wrench in it, or your publicist calls and says this isn’t a good idea?'”

16 September 2014 - Phoenix- You and I - after “Silence and Sound, did they ever hold each other tight like us?” (1:22)

20 September 2014 - iHeartRadio festival - Las Vegas - on the “Little Things” chorus (1:13). Harry looks like his mind is wandering, and trying to focus on the song. Harry and Taylor both played the iHeartRadio festival that weekend, Taylor played songs from Red, Love Story and Shake it Off.

23 September 2014: Tulsa - on “Better than Words” chorus (4:23) and in C’mon C’mon at (1:14)Harry was hurt earlier in the show but was seemingly in a good mood. Taylor was seen in NY this day, but had been MIA since the 19th when they were at the iHeart festival together.

28 September 2014: Charlotte - during “Right now” (0:06, and nearly again 1:40) Charlotte a few days before Tampa. Taylor held 1989 secret sessions in Nashville this day and talked to sessions about Harry. On their 28 September Anniversary

3 October 2014: Tampa Florida during “Right Now” Between ‘lights go down’ and ‘lets go crazy’. (1:00 and 2:20). This was the second last show before both Harry and Taylor went to London, Taylor did a Riptide performance on BBC 1 5 days later with the lyric "I love you when you're singing that song / And I got a lump in my throat / 'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong"

2015

Harry and Taylor dated throughout the rest of 2014. At the start of 2015 timeline Harry went to LA 3 weeks early to start writing for MITAM and saw Taylor. This post on the 6th seemed to mark a break up and so began Harry’s horrible year, he was seen with Kendall and models after that.

11 February 2015 - Brisbane - WDBHG - things I can - (10:31) and the right shoulder at the start of you and I (1:18:27)

15 February 2015 - Melbourne- (Valentine’s Day in US) during Night Changes (0:13) The Style Music Video was released the day before (13th in the US). On what would have been their 1 year anniversary Harry kissed the heart.

20 February 2015 - Perth - ‘You and I’ (2:16) other shoulder kiss. During Happily in Perth Liam asked Harry "Are you OK?" (1:01), it was song 7 for 8 shows, then never played again. Harry posted a photo of a crosswalk B&W stripes caption 'chains around my feet'. His feet have 'never gonna dance again' tattooed on them, George Michael lyric about being faithful.

24 February 2015 - Osaka - Night Changes -Harry kissed the anchor tattoo (0:28) this was the last night happily was played ever, the show before Harry looked close to tears in Happily and Liam asked if he was ok.

25 February 2015 - Osaka - Night Changes (1:48) (there’s a great crowd shushing before this). Taylor was pictured with Calvin Harris the night before. Happily was replaced by Stockholm Syndrome this show after a few shows where Harry looked upset.

18 March 2015 Hong Kong - Night Changes an anchor kiss at the start (2:19) and heart kiss at (3:58) Before this, Harry walked so far back from the microphone Liam checked on him. This was the last show Zayn was at, this Reddit post gets into why the band probably expected him to finish that tour leg, they had a show with songs for his voice in 3 days. Taylor was in Nashville and Calvin was rumored to be seen with her at dinner. This may be a continuation of the Night Changes kisses. Tayvin then went public and the heart kisses become hard to find.

23 June 2015 - Sweden- during You and I anatomical heart kiss in Sweden after Liam sings “did they ever fight like Dan” (guitarist) (1:14) Taylor and Harry were both doing European shows. Harry posted a colour picture to IG, that he missed you Sweden, kissed the heart in Sweden the day Taylor flew to Glasgow then Harry posted it felt great to be in Sweden. The next day, Taylor’s Clean speech included “I’ve never been so sure that it’s treacherous and difficult to be happy in 2015.”

26 September 2015 London O2 during “Don't Forget Where You Belong” (3:55) Taylor was in Nashville and gave a longer than usual Clean Speech,it was one of 2 to refer to loss “I was in London making this album […] I was dealing with kind of getting over the loss of a relationship, and everyone else’s kind of speculation on it, and everyone else weighing in on everything I was doing.”

28 September 2015 - London - You and I (1:29) anchored kiss on “a different life like us”. On their 28 September Anniversary. Same show Harry talked to a fan about their anniversary. Taylor also talked about heartbreak and time in her Clean Speech the same night.

12 November 2015 - BBC Radio one lounge, during Torn. Before this, Harry was really struggling to get through "Story of My Life", he turned around twice, and ended the song on “the story of…” (2:13) This was the last push of promo for 1D about MITAM. The next day Harry said “you think it’s so funny you sing it” instead of the Perfect bridge and 3 days after Harry was so quiet on Xtra Factor it was on the news.

#haylor #harry styles #tattoo kiss

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scarlet--wiccan · 5 months

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Do you think there’s a meaningful distinction between “witches” and other magic users in the marvel universe (beyond, potentially, gender)?

Witch and warlock are obviously treated more or less as gender-swapped synonyms and both have somewhat negative connotations that don’t get associated with people like Dr Strange (afaik), but I feel like there might be more to it, I’m just not sure. Calling Nico or Billy a witch feels more accurate than calling Cleo or Victor a witch, but I can’t figure out if this is grounded in anything besides my own opinion

Yes, actually! We can identify social, cultural, mythical and practical factors distinguishing "witches" from other types of magicians. However, those distinctions are not always clear. As you noted, the word "witch" is often used very broadly to describe any female spellcaster. As a reader, you'll have to rely on context to determine whether the writer is denoting a specific type of magician, or just using gendered language.

Functionally speaking, all forms of magic are basically interchangeable. Most spellcasters have the same powers and abilities, and writers don't always put in the effort to make them feel unique. That doesn't necessarily bother me, so long as they are tailoring the language and imagery to suit each character's background, but that doesn't happen as often as I'd like. Again, you'll just need to use critical thinking to figure out when a lack of distinction is really just a lack of creativity and effort.

With that out of the way, let's break down what we do know about witchcraft, and the history of witches, in the Marvel world!

Social: Witches have historically gathered in covens, settlements and societies, and have even endured literal witch-hunts. In real life, this is not quite the truth, but it Marvel comics, we can say that witches comprise distinct societies which suffer distinct forms of persecution. We also know that many witches belong to a magical lineage, and that these witch families often use a special naming convention to identify themselves with unique colors and symbols, indicating that witches have unique customs and traditions setting them apart.

Cultural: In Marvel comics, all forms of magical or spiritual folk practice are literally real, in the same way that all mythologies and polytheistic religions are literally real-- Asgard is a real place, Thor is a real person, and spells have real power. Witchcraft is typically represented as a form of European folk magic. Other traditions, such as vodou, voodoo, and multiple forms of Indigenous spirituality have also been demonstrated, and are often grouped together, along with witchcraft, under a broad category of "cultural magic." As shown in Midnight Suns, many of these traditions from around the world have a certain shared history, as the Coven at Mount Wundagore included representatives from numerous cultures.

Mythological: "Witchcraft" itself exists as an abstract entity, like Death, Nightmare, or Eternity. She is the source of witchcraft's power, but also a symbolic representation of all witches and the natural balance of magic, and she is sometimes worshipped as a goddess. Witchcraft resides at the heart of the Witches' Road, an Inner Plane uniquely accessible to witches that transcends time and is connected to many of the mythical realms. Witchcraft may also be intrinsically connected to chaos magic-- ancient witches were responsible for binding and harnessing Earth's natural chaos magic; Witchcraft, the entity, is shown consorting with an abstract Chaos entity; and we know that Wundagore and the Darkhold are connected to many cults and covens throughout history.

Practical: Unfortunately, this is the weakest area. For a brief time, Wanda's magical practice borrowed a lot of Wiccan motifs, which was problematic in its own right, but in modern comics, we just don't get to see enough of how witches, specifically, do magic. Most characters who practice some form of traditional magic have a closer connection to natural elements and the spirit world, and they may have particular powers related to their background. Doctor Voodoo is a great example, although the actual depiction of his culture is deeply flawed. Scarlet Witch (2015) introduced certain unique abilities, such as witches' sight; specific mechanics around the cost of magic; and a style of spellcasting that relied on Wanda's knowledge of real-world languages and magical symbols. Billy and Nico also use varying degrees of wordplay, so I like this approach and I would focus on building that into a cohesive magical system if I was a writer.

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #agatha harkness #billy kaplan #wiccan #nico minoru #jericho drumm #witchcraft #magical theory

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strawberryqueen00 · 5 months

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hey! hey!

Hey! Hey!

HEY! DO NOT WATCH DISNEY WISH! THERE IS STILL AN ACTIVE PRESSURE BOYCOTT!

It sucks that I have to encourage not watching a Disney original plot film with a prominent black protagonist character. I normally would see this film to support it for the original content and to show monetary support for BIPOC characters in animation. And it breaks my heart the boycott might discourage Disney for black led films.

But the deaths of Palestinians is more heartbreaking. Gaza is still in danger and Disney still is being pressured for their Israel support and to support Palestine vocally.

Edit: I want to immediately clear up any possible misinformation. I has also seen this incredibly informative post by @daisy-mooon that goes more into detail on yow Disney specifically gave Humanitarian aid to Israel. I do not want to say this aid is bad but is a look to not also provide the residents of Gaza with support as well. The post also clarifies that Disney is considered a “Pressue” company in this Boycott and I have updated this post with that wording. I use “Pressure” and “Boycott” interchangeably. A pressure boycott is different where the goal there is to try and reach out to the company to ‘pressure’ them into support. I recommend that people do whatever they can to make it clear to Disney any content you’re Boycotting is because of the ongoing Genocide in Gaza.

#disney wish #wish #anti wish #disney boycott #animation #social justice #gaza #palestine #free gaza #gaza strip #free palestine #israel #jerusalem

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heartpascal · 1 year

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[SPOILERS FOR TLOU PT2]

so i was listening to "the other side" by ruelle and "wait for it" by leslie odom jr. and had this depressing thought regarding that maybe bonus scene of "if the door wasn't shut" series but like- what if it was reader who abby kills instead of joel? hear me out but- joel killed her father right? and probably made her go through sm pain and grief right? so what if somehow she finds out how much reader means to joel.

"did we ever see it coming?

will we ever let it go?"

and blinded by her need for revenge, she 🏌️ the reader instead, wanting joel to feel the same pain and grief she feels and twists the knife even deeper saying that her death is on him. the reader who didn't even go with them and had no idea what even happened in that hospital and absolutely had no part of it was killed because of him. that her death will be on his conscience. she was just someone who was caught in the crossfire because of her relations with joel and ellie.

"i don't want to lose part of me,

will i recover?"

and joel, ellie, and tommy just watches her get 🏌️ by abby. i'm- IMAGINE THE PAIN TOMMY AND MARIA WILL GO THROUGH 😭😭😭😭 reader whom they basically raised as their own just gets killed just like that 😭 maria gonna lose another child 😭 AND READER'S SHOP IS JUST BURIED IN FLOWERS 😭😭😭

"i don't want to know what it's like to live without you,

don't want to know the other side of a world without you."

what's even more depressing is that she's still young and still had a life ahead of her and it's just cut short because the world is cruel just like that. (especially in the tlou universe cough)

"death doesn't discriminate,

between the sinners and the saints,

it takes and it takes and it takes."

and joel just breaking and wondering why he's still when so many people that he has know and cared and loved has left him (i'm going for the sarah's mom left route and tommy leaving joel to join the fireflies) or died (sarah, tess, bill, frank, sam, henry, and now reader) AND WHAT IF THEY JUST MADE UP TOO?!?! I CAN'T- 😭😭😭

"(and we keep living anyway),

we rise (and we fall),

we fall (and we break),

(and we make our mistakes),

and if there's a reason i'm still alive,

when so many have died."

might go back to this if ive thought of even more but for now i'm ending this here and gonna cry about it 😭😭

THE LAST OF US PART 2 SPOILERS!

howl you have HURT me with this one. so badly. my heart hurts. i’m gonna add my thoughts hope this is ok <3

FIRST. LETS TALK ABOUT THE SONGS. especially the other side by ruelle?? HELLO??? “i don’t want to leave here without you” …. stop it. i’m in so much pain. “i don’t want to know what it’s like to live without you” SCREAMING. this hurts me so much and it fits for all of the characters AND AND “i don’t want to know who we are without each other” i cant do this today howl i really cant. it’s interchangeable between the scenarios as well i-

“and if there’s a reason i’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died” stop. i’m gonna cry and shout and sob and yell.

lets think about this scenario, shall we?

warning: graphic content, death, weapons, blood, canon-typical, grief, aftermath of r dying. you should know what’s happened if you’ve come past the keep reading thingy. pls read at your own risk <3 its not written as a proper fic/drabble (although there’s an idea) but still, be careful of the content you consume !!!!

lets say that reader and jesse were partnered up to take joel and tommy off of patrol. lets say that reader is fucking terrified when the miller bros don’t show up. lets say that jesse agrees to go and find dina and ellie while reader goes ahead to look for joel and tommy, fearing the worst.

lets say reader hears that gunshot, and rushes in, guns blazing. lets say she shoots owen in the shoulder when she pushes the door open, because he’s the first person she sees. lets say manny takes her down, gets her gun off of her, while joel is yelling as he realises who it is.

lets say joel is yelling, “get your hands off of her” and “don’t you touch her” while the others hold him down, tommy already knocked flat out. lets say abby is stood there, looking between you baring your teeth as you’re held down by manny and joel yelling for you. lets say she’s angry, she’s angrier than she’s ever been. lets say that she looks at you and sees herself, and she looks to joel only to see what he took from her.

lets say reader is looking at joel, at his leg that’s almost beyond saving, lets say reader is praying that jesse, dina and ellie are quick. she’s sure that if they got here soon, the four of you could get the upper hand. joel would be okay, if only the others were quick.

lets say abby looks at joel one more time, and spits “move him”, and she looks to reader while the others pull joel away, while he’s kicking and screaming the whole way.

lets say they pull reader over towards the wall, all looking at abby nervously.

lets say when she swings at reader’s head the first time, she’s still struggling, looking over to joel as one of the group hits him across the head with their gun. lets say the second time, she goes down, and they don’t need to hold reader against the wall anymore.

“don’t,” reader would say, “please, i-” lets say abby hitting her again would cut anything else off, and some of the group have to rush to the door when it opens, and reader blinks bleary eyes over to see ellie, and almost sighs with relief until she’s taken down.

lets say reader waits, vision swimming, to hear or maybe see jesse and dina come through the doorway, guns blazing. lets say reader tries not to cry when they don’t come.

“stop it! she had nothing to do with this” ellie would say, despite not knowing why the group was here, why they were doing this. “i’ll kill you, i’ll fucking kill you! stop,” she would be begging, pleading, as they hold her head against the floor, lets say she’d try and pull away, try and get to reader as abby would swing again.

lets say joel hears ellie scream as he starts to wake up, his first and only image being reader with her face covered in blood and- they hit him across the head again, and he’s out.

lets say jesse and dina come, and dina almost doesn’t shout for jesse to come down. lets say jesse almost passes out when he pushes the wooden door open. lets say that he shouts, and he’s on his knees beside reader in a second, not touching, hands just hovering, and lets say he doesn’t know what to do. lets say he holds in his tears as he turns to where tommy is blinking into consciousness. lets say he blocks the man’s view of you until he’s pushed aside.

lets not say how joel is unresponsive when he wakes up, even though dina had pulled a sheet to cover the sight in front of him, lets not say that none of them can get him to speak even when they pull him up, on his half-fucked leg, tourniquet wrapped around his thigh from the very group who had-

here’s what we shouldn’t think about this situation!

lets not think about tommy having to go home to maria, to his son, and look her in the face to tell her what happened. lets not think about maria demanding to see reader, demanding for someone to tell her it’s not fucking true.

lets not think about how joel can’t be there when reader is buried, stuck in the infirmary, because he’s alive. he’s alive and reader isn’t. lets not think about that.

lets not think about how jesse would blame himself, would never forgive himself for letting her go searching alone, how he would carry that blame forever.

lets not think about ellie sitting in reader’s shop, looking at the clay reader had set out that morning, ready for when she’d be home later on in the evening. lets not think about all the flowers that would be laying outside of the shop, obscuring ellie’s view out of the windows.

lets not think about tommy leaving maria when she needed him most.

lets not think about ellie and dina going after him.

lets not think about joel, finally being let out of the infirmary, heading back to Rancher Street, not knowing what else to do. lets not think about joel being completely despondent, about him finding the mug that reader had made sat on the counter from the coffee he’d had in it just before he had gone on patrol.

lets not think about joel finding out his whole family has gone to avenge reader, when its his fault she’s gone. lets not think about him limping to the stables, demanding to go after them. lets not think about jesse helping him sneak away.

lets not think actually.

(i could add more to this. expand on other things that could happen in this situation. but. i’m sad. i will if yall want tho >:])

#heartpascal says #tlou part 2 spoilers #tlou part 2 #tlou2 spoilers #the last of us part 2 spoilers #the last of us part ii spoilers #the last of us part two spoilers #the last of us 2 spoilers #tlou part two spoilers #tlou part ii spoilers #tlou part two #tlou2 #can you tell i’m trying to be thorough #PLEASE #howl <3 #tlou 2 spoilers #tlou 2 #tlou spoilers #the last of us spoilers

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