#so believe me when I say I deeply cannot thank you all enough | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

valley-of-headcanons · 4 months

Note

I just stumbled across your blog and I really love your headcanons! If you had the time, I was wondering if you could do the bachelors reacting to a mute farmer?

bachelors with a mute!farmer || headcanons

being mute isn't as hard when you have these considerate men around <3

warning: this is under the assumption that the reader cannot speak at all! all include sign language as a form of communication :) other warnings are that certain townies are VERY SLIGHTLY ableist (jodi, george). take this whole story with a grain of salt, as i am not mute! i tried my hardest, however, please let me know if something is wrong/offensive/just straight up stupid! i'd love to learn where i went wrong :)

requested by: anon, thank you so much for requesting! and i deeply apologize for the fact that this took around a year to come out ... oopsie daisy ... my stardew valley hyperfixation went bye bye but guess who's backkkk?? anyway! here you go, better late than never :)

alex

• Alex honestly had no idea what to do when he realized that you were mute. He had no idea what to do, and you saw it on his face. He wanted to interact with you, you looked pretty interesting, but ... he had no idea where to start. So, you offered to teach him sign. He was surprised to see that you had that much faith in him, and he rejected initially, but ... he really wanted to have a new friend. It seemed like you were a genuine person, and he needed that in his life. So he did.

• You taught him sign, and this was probably one of the hardest things he's done. He believes he's not very bright, so he's incredibly nervous. But he works so hard for you! He didn't really know why he did, as you were just a new neighbor. Maybe you could be more? You could be a true friend! That's what he's looking forward to the most.

• As he began getting fluent and he learned more about you, the more he enjoyed being around you. Someone actively took a chance on him, and he's forever grateful. He opened up a lot to you, and you reassured him through all of it. He was the smartest person you knew because of how well he picked up sign ... he cried a little bit, although he really doesn't want to admit that.

• He realized how close you've gotten, and how his feelings haven't stopped growing for you. So, he had to do something about it! A soft, well-candlelit dinner was prepared for you, and he asked you out fully through sign! He had worked so hard on preparing a fully thought-out speech through sign for you ... it was so incredibly sweet. He really does love you.

• Alex was incredibly defensive of you, and would probably fight anyone who tried him. He even had several arguments with George. He wasn't the most supportive and definitely had some comments, especially since he literally couldn't see the sign ... but through Alex, he was convinced. Everything was fine, especially with Alex doing his best to convince those around him.

• Overall, Alex loves you and it shows. It shows through every piece of sign that he learns, every action that he does for you, and everything that he says to you and others. He adores every aspect of you, and he loves your bravery and your amazing soul. He can't get enough of you.

elliot

• Elliot is definitely a romantic, and when you didn't respond to his minor flirting, he was very confused. But when he realized you were mute, he dramatically gasped and apologized, basically dropping to his knees. He felt horrible, and promised to make it up to you.

• For a while, you talked back and forth through letters, since he was often stuck at home writing. He finds that he can write a lot more through his letters to you than he can his own book. Isn't that strange? He brings it up to you in one of his letters, and he eventually invites you over to his cabin. He bounces ideas for his book off of you, and strangely, it's so much easier to communicate with you ... how strange.

• He ends up learning sign for you in his free time, although it takes a while due to his busy schedule. He still prefers to write letters to you, it seems much more personal and definitely more romantic. He eloquently writes about his life and inquires you about yours.

• Elliot realizes that maybe this situation isn't just romantic to be romantic ... maybe there were feelings underneath, feelings that Elliot had never truly felt before. He ended up writing poetry about you, pages and pages. He can't get you out of his head! He had to let you know. You found out through a book of poetry sitting in your mailbox, and after reading through it, it was undeniable that it was about you. He was infatuated ... and so were you.

• He's incredibly protective of you, making sure to keep you out of harm's way as much as possible. If anyone were to say so much as one hateful word to you, he'd make a scene. With his dramatic flare, he'd declare them an imbecile and swoop you away to a safe place. It's in his nature, did you think anything less?

• Elliot'e romantic side has never been greater than with you. Romance and genuine feelings have always been apart in his mind, but they've both culminated in a beautiful love with you. He doesn't mind your muteness, he finds it beautiful and inspiring. You're his muse, of course.

harvey

• Harvey is incredibly understanding, and he tried his best to understand you as much as possible! He has no problem learning how to communicate with you and how to help you out as much as possible! He's the most understanding of your condition, and asks many questions about how and why you're this way. Not in a hateful way or anything, he just wants to understand you fully!

• As your doctor, he's definitely concerned for your health at first, but his nerves are calmed eventually. He slowly works toward getting to know you despite your condition, and he loosens up a little bit. He's so sweet and kind toward you, and he can't believe he's befriended someone as lovely as you.

• He opens up about his color blindness soon enough, and how debilitating it can seem. You bond over that, and he finds it easy to open up to you. He's used to being the listener, it's literally his profession, but it's nice to be listened to for once.

• Harvey realized this was a lot more than just a friendship, due to his heart racing when he's around you ... wow. He didn't expect this, and he really doesn't know how to act on it. But as you two hang out on the pier of the beach one night, he can't help but admire you instead of the stars. You notice, and he can't hide it anymore. He asks so nervously if you feel the same way he does. You answer with a gentle kiss on his cheek. He melts.

• He is very defensive of your condition, if someone says anything slightly derogatory, he will go off on a medical tangent. He justifies everything with an array of medical terms, enough to put anyone at a loss for words. Once Harvey silences the other person, he apologizes heavily, but still defends his love.

• Harvey loves you, and it shows through his concern for you and his deep affection for you. You're such an amazing and brave person, and he admires every bit of it. He admires you more than anything, and he would reshape the world if it meant to keep you safe.

sam

• Sam, despite his loud and energized nature, doesn't mind the fact that you're mute! He finds interacting with you regulating, in some kind of way. He has to calm down a bit to concentrate on communicating effectively with you. He enjoys talking to someone who has such a different viewpoint on life!

• Sam actually knew sign language before he met you! While in the war, Kent had sent a letter home that he had gone have deaf due to the constant noise of the war. Jodi then forced her family to learn sign language as soon as possible, so communicating with him was incredibly easy!

• Being able to actually use his sign language is actually pretty fun! He's very fluent, and he enjoys seeing your personality through your sign. He also enjoys your personality in general, how you overcome not speaking and your bravery. He finds that you both enjoy music, and it's a major bonding point between the two of you.

• Showing each other different songs that you enjoy was a staple of your hangout sessions. He finds those evenings the ones that he looks forward to the most, watching you smile and bop your head to the music. It's soft, it's sweet, it's ... lovely. As his feelings approach him, he can't get you out of his head ... his writer's block comes to an end. Eventually, he ends up playing a song for you. The love that he has for you is evident through the lyrics. And then ... a soft kiss as the song goes on, you would probably scream in joy if you could.

• His mom is ... not the most fond of you being mute. He doesn't really care, as he mostly just ignores her. He loves her but good god, her views ... so, he chooses your friendship more than anything. And when you two travel to something more, he chooses that over the relationship with his mother. She has a few passive aggressive comments, but she eventually gets over it enough to only give you a few side-eyes.

• Despite every hardship, Sam loves you. Every aspect of you is perfect in his eyes, and he wouldn't change anything about you. Sam adores your wonderful personality, despite not ever really hearing a voice behind your wonderful words. He doesn't care, you're you, and that's what matters.

sebastian

• Sebastian is the most quiet of all of the bachelors, so it makes sense that he would be naturally drawn to someone with a similar vibe. He doesn't mind the fact that you don't speak, and he finds ways to adjust.

• At first, he doesn't put too much effort into learning sign language to communicate. He doesn't see the reason why, you're just another person in town. But after Sam started speaking to you through sign language and you crossed paths more ... he decided to, why not?

• After talking to you, he realized that you have a lot in common. This makes him excited to finally have someone to relate to, and more and more, he asks you to hang out. Most of the time you end up doing things together in silence, but when you do talk, it's deep and personal.

• Falling for you was not his intention and came out of absolutely no where. He thought he was destined to spend the rest of his life shrouded in darkness, but this one quiet beam of light pulled him out of that. Huh. How odd. It took a lot of mutual pining for this to come to the surface, however. You called out that he accidentally used the sign for “I love you” when saying goodbye ... his pale face went bright red. Safe to say, you didn't say goodbye that evening. A long talk and a kiss goodnight, you two ended up together. As you should be.

• He doesn't really give the time of day to the people who don't understand you. A deep side eye and an aggressive sigh usually escape him, but he tells you not to worry about it. He shows you that he loves you no matter what, and “people fucking suck.”

• Sebastian relates heavily to you, and really loves you. He can't believe he's found someone who relates to him so well, but also has such a kind and genuine soul. He loves you more than life itself and enjoys your company more than anything on this planet.

shane

• Shane is probably the most guarded person in Stardew Valley, and it shows when he meets you. He could care less about you at first, pretty much ignoring your every movement. He doesn't really care that you're mute, he just doesn't care about you period. He's not really there yet, mentally.

• However, things change when you offer him a beer. He's confused by your kindness, and you can't really explain yourself because he doesn't understand sign. His curiosity is piqued. So, he asks Marnie if she knows any sign, and she refers him to Jodi, who eventually refers him to Sam. He hates the idea of having to work with Sam, but he can't help himself. He was too curious.

• After picking up a bit, he ends up offering you a beer in solidarity. He then thinks for a moment before showing the sign for beer. Your excitement warms his rather cold heart ... that's new. He just communicates by speaking, but he can read sign, so that seems like enough in his eyes.

• He finds it easy to talk to you, as you're such an interesting and perseverant person. It inspires him to begin working on himself. He pushes himself to work hard ... for you. Huh. Then, as if the sky was falling around him, he realized he was falling for you. He began pushing you away, until you basically cornered him at the bar. You took him to a private room where he rambled on about how perfect you were and how he was just going to ruin you. You eventually just signed “love ?” He looked like a scared child and just nodded. He signed “I love you” with shaking hands. But of course, so did you.

• His assholery is on full display when someone tries to come at you. He doesn't do it as eloquently or kind as some others, he just curses and insults until they shut their trap. They have no room to talk in his eyes.

• Despite his cold nature, Shane really does love you. He has no problems with your nature and sees it as a contrast to his own nature. He finds that enamoring and beautiful, unlike himself. He's working on himself, for you.

147 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 7 months

Note

something im kind of connecting the dots to re: your posts about shaming people who don’t wear masks…in ‘20 and ‘21 I spent a lot of time posting shaming instagram stories telling people they needed to mask, and i yelled at family until i was blue in the face bc they weren’t masking, having big weddings, etc. and it really created a rift (obviously) in my relationships. I’ve also spent a lot of time and energy in the past 4 or so years telling people that it’s not possible to be an ally to trans people if they still engage in any media created by jk rowling. Especially given that her anti trans manifesto has been cited in anti trans legislation in the uk, she says that she assumes that anyone who continues to engage with Harry Potter media approves of her transphobia, etc the list goes on. And yet i still see my friends going to the wizarding world of Harry Potter, marathoning the movies with their friends, going to see the new movies in theaters, and so on. Obviously my aggressive shaming posts and conversations (which have alienated a lot of people) aren’t doing jack shit. Your mask shame posts made me realize that it probably wasn’t right of me to do that. But I don’t see how I can stand up for what I believe in and show people that it’s not okay to keep doing this shit AND play nice and not create trouble. Do you have any thoughts?

Thanks for this great question and for sharing your experiences.

I think when we shame, part of it is a grappling with our own powerlessness. It feels terrible to confront that no matter how much we care, and no matter how much we plead, we cannot make another person take action. When people we love or rely on won't hear our pleas and won't take action, it wounds us so deeply, and it makes sense we react in anger or seek to shame them hoping it will make them care. But it isn't effective.

I think one of the first steps is accepting our powerlessness as individuals. We have to stop expecting ourselves to somehow persuade people to change their behavior and views, when all the research indicates that such change is rare, slow, and very hard, and cannot be accomplished on a person who does not already want to be influenced. We have to sit in the humility of not being able to make others care, and take time to grieve how badly it hurts. Our understandable and huge hurt feelings need to be processed. many of us have a powerful need to express our rage and have it witnessed by others who understand.

From there, we have to think very strategically about what kind of collective work we can do that will shift social norms, facilitate the behavior we want to see, and fight for systemic changes that will actually address the root issues.

This may be things like passing out masks at protests. Joining a local mutual aid fund to contribute to the expenses of people who are quarantining. Protesting an event space to make them institute a masking policy. Unionizing with our coworkers to demand paid sick leave. Shoplifting tests and redistributing them to people in need. Terrorizing the business leaders who dragged us all back into the office. Sharing the wastewater data. Asking loved ones about their COVID mitigation decisions in a sincere way. Organizing outdoor events for our communities. Paying for a buddy's vaccine.

There are countless ways for us to be plugged into an active community that is larger than us. The work is humble, and ongoing, and what you do personally will never be enough on its own, and you must accept that in order to believe that it does not have to be. We are in this together.

In short, I think the tough emotional realities of feeling disrespected and not cared for much be addressed by finding community with people who do care and will give us room to voice our outrage. And then we have to work together to create the circumstances that allow real systemic change to germinate.

Right now, people conflate that emotional need to express rage with the political need to take action. And what feels cathartic to do or say is not necessarily what's persuasive. There has to be room for both.

127 notes · View notes

tillthelandslide · 6 months

Text

To Matty: thank you for always providing me songs that mirror how im feeling, for finding the words to say when I can't find them myself. For showing us that it's okay not to be perfect all the time and for showing us that people will love you even when you make a mistake. For teaching me that you should never be quiet, that you should always speak up, and fight for what you believe in. For teaching me that no matter how hard life gets, no matter what shit it throws our way, that we will never give up and how friends and family keep you going. For giving me a family that loves you and the boys and this band and your music, just as much as I do 🩷

To Ross: thank you for showing me how deeply I can feel and how deeply I can love. For showing me the value of friendship and being a fierce and loyal friend to the boys I love so dearly. For showing me that there is a grace and a beauty in being the one that supports, the one that isn't always at the front, the one that loves in the background. For providing me with songs that move me. For showing me that, in the end, love is all that matters🩷. Also thank you for making me realise I have a type: bassists 😂

To George: thank you for being the brains behind the operation, there would be no 1975 if it wasn't for you and I truly cannot thank you enough. Thank you for showing me what true friendship is and for giving me a reason to survive: you and your band.

To Hann: thank you for being the brunt of many of Matty's jokes that I cannot help but laugh at. Thank you for showing me the power of grace and quiet and calm. Thank you for showing me what true and life long friendship looks like. Thank you for giving me some fucking sick guitar riffs to rock out to. And thank you for loving the boys the exact same way I do.

To the band: you are the best thing that has happened to me and to so many others. You have shaped me and my life for 13 years and I do not know what life looks like without you. Enjoy this break, rest and relax because you deserve it. We will be waiting, loving you as always, forever and forevermore.

I love the house that we live in, And I love you all too much

You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me

#had to write this #sorry #the 1975 #ross macdonald #matty healy #adam hann #George Daniel

66 notes · View notes

radiant-reid · 2 years

Note

i CANNOT believe you haven’t written subby mommy kink reid yet??? i always imagine him (at least season 1&2 spence) as super submissive and totally the type to like accidentally moan mommy during sex alsowofjowhfjqnf

just imagine him coming home after the hardest case and all he wants is to snuggle up with his mommy and fuck all slow and sensual… yeah

(also forgive me if you’re not comfortable with mommy kink stuff, i know it’s not for everyone<3 feel free to ignore xx)

i have been slacking, i'll admit because i am quite into this. also, mommy kink Spence is boob guy Spence

how is it legal to look this breedable ?

The first time it happens, Spencer's so far gone he doesn't realize he's said it. You're riding him after he's already orgasmed, overstimulating him.

It just slips out, a soft "mommy."

Your eyes widen, and you tug at his hair so he's forced to look at you, no longer able to whimper against your boobs while looking down. "What was that?" You ask.

He blushes even redder, which you didn't think was possible. "Mommy?" He repeats like it's a question.

"Good boy." You praise him, only making him moan out the moniker again against your lips. "Ready to cum again?"

It's become standard practice now, and you both adore it. He loves getting to turn off his brain, and you love taking control.

He needs it when he comes in late one night, dragging his feet on the floor. "Bed?" You offer.

He happily agrees, taking off everything but his underwear while you get into bed- already in your pajamas. He basically flops on top of the bed, not wanting to move. You snuggle closer to him, pulling the blanket over both of you while he gets inside your shirt- something you thought about before putting it on- to rest his head on your chest.

His hips start to roll against yours intentionally, and you know what that means. "Want mommy to fuck you?" You offer, whispering into his ear. He only moans, not good enough. "Use your words, baby."

"Yes, please, mommy. I need you." He begs before he starts sucking on your boobs.

You reach down to free him from his underwear, pulling your pajama shorts down so you can put him inside you. You like doing all the work, letting him totally relax.

You both moan in unison at the feeling that never gets old. "You feel so nice, mommy." He compliments, pulling his head out of your shirt.

You hum in agreement, rolling over so you're on top of him and moving your hips against his. "Just relax. Let me do all the work."

He does, throwing his head back against the pillows and leaving his throat open to your kisses so you can feel the vibrations of his moans.

"Doing so well." You praise, moving harder against him, although it's still slow and he's as deeply into you as he can get.

"'m close." He tells you, looking down at where you're riding him while laying on his chest.

You moan in agreement. "What do you say, baby?"

"Please let me cum, mommy." He recites, accompanying the request with a pretty smile.

"Good." You say, reconnecting your lips. "Fill mommy up with come. Be a good boy."

When he spills inside you, it's impossible not to have the same reaction, cumming around his cock with a happy sigh. He's grinning up at you when you look down at him. "Thank you."

You can't resist kissing him again and again. "You're welcome, sweet boy." You reply. "You were so good for me, such a perfect, hot FBI agent doctor as well."

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds smut

917 notes · View notes

tamayula-hl · 7 months

Text

It's been a long time since I've posted as my daughter and I have both been in bed with the flu and Covid! And once again I apologise for posting an article that is disturbing the atmosphere of HL fandom.

I have discussed the false accusation of trace plagiarism levelled against me with @freewld and have received an apology from her saying that it was a misunderstanding.

Here is a verified image of this case (Twitter/X)

I am now deeply relieved that we were able to end the discussion with a result that convinced her of my innocence. If it was a misunderstanding, I am willing to end it all this time. I would like to end this false accusation racket with a discussion with her. I will refrain from mentioning the matter once and for all (unless another disturbing incident occurs), and I hope that you will refrain from further mention of it too. I also do not want any slanderous behaviour, excessive criticism, speculation or falsehoods towards her, so I strongly urge you all to refrain from doing so. (Just in case , I have compiled screenshots and other evidence regarding the defamation of me that I have received in this row, and submitted and consulted with lawyers and others)

She also requested that I make a correction announcement on four points, which I would like to make here.

She said she conducted the survey with the intention of "using it as one reference for the opinions of her followers".

Tamayula's wish was the reason she decided to make the suspicion of plagiarism public.

She did not vote on the survey from multiple accounts to give herself an advantage.

She only made her Twitter account private after the survey was invalidated.

My verified public article was written in Japanese, which I wrote in a very confused and upset state, and translated into English and published at DeepL. Therefore, it was very difficult to understand and there were many phrases that may have led to your misunderstanding. I would like to apologise deeply for the confusion caused to everyone by my misunderstanding and incomprehensible article, and at the same time, I would like to correct it here. Although it has taken me a long time to respond, I have corrected the English text of the article on Tumblr and made it private, and on Twitter, I have deleted the tweet that referred to the survey.

I was very upset by the false accusations that suddenly fell upon me, and I sincerely regret that I repeatedly exposed myself in an emotional and unsightly manner, and that I failed to respond correctly to the incident. I cannot thank enough those who were kind to me and gave me warm words and those who believed in my innocence. I am sorry, but I will refrain from replying to you now, because if I do so, it is likely to cause an uproar again, but your words of encouragement and support, which I received at a time when I was feeling quite emotionally drained, gave me tremendous emotional support, more than you can imagine. Thank you very much. I am deeply grateful.

As for my future creative activities, I plan to continue with both Tumblr and Twitter as they are now. (However, I intend to move at the end of March in my real life and will be very busy for a few months with preparations and my new life, so my activities will be quite low-key for the time being). My interest in HL, Seb and Omi has not changed, and I am still motivated to paint, but in reflecting on the current turmoil, I now realise that I was very easily influenced by other people's creative styles, and that I had a vague idea of what the boundaries of inspiration were. In the future, I will continue to be self-conscious about my own dangerous values and make every effort to correct them, and if I have used a work as a reference, I will clearly state it and do my utmost not to cause trouble for others as an artist.

Finally, I am very sorry for the trouble I have caused to so many people. And to those of you who have been so warm and thoughtful, once again, thank you very much indeed 🙏 I will continue to do my best in drawing from now on!

81 notes · View notes

hero-deserves-to-be-happy · 6 months

Text

Let Kel Be Sad: An Analysis on Kel’s struggles to express his negative emotions

Like Hero, Kel is also a “fixer”—he would bend over backwards to solve his friends' problems and stop the world if it would make them happy again, and both him and his brother are such big hearted and generous people who would much rather be the emotional support for others rather than talk about their own problems and make a situation about themselves and their feelings. For Hero, this often involves burying his own feelings and faking happiness, but I don’t think it necessarily means this for Kel, even if he struggles to express his negative emotions.

To me, Kel’s happiness and positivity is genuine, but he dismisses, discounts, and often runs from his sadness when he does experience it.

Let's discuss under the cut.

[Mod Sprinkles made the joke that in another universe I (mod Acacia) would also run a blog called "Let Kel Be Sad" so here are some Kel thoughts. Thanks for indulging my ramblings! 🧡]

Disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions, perceptions, and headcanons about Kel (and Hero). There are a lot of ways his character can be interpreted, and one of the great things about fandom is getting to see different points of view and differing interpretations of characters we all know and love. I know I speak for both Sprinkles and myself when I say we have a lot of respect for that, and for that reason, I want to be upfront that, while I do genuinely believe Kel struggles expressing negative emotions (thus the "Let Kel Be Sad" title), I don't personally view Kel as someone whose happiness is "fake" in the same way as Hero's. I can see the appeal of this interpretation and can understand why people interpret his character in this way, but it personally does not vibe with my personal interpretations, perceptions, and headcanons of Kel and his character, so if you perceive/headcanon Kel in that way, this post probably won't be your cup of tea. Please keep that in mind.

Warnings: OMORI Spoilers and discussion of game-relevant heavier topics such death, trauma, and grief.

Kel wears his heart on his sleeve, but this doesn't mean that he is shallow. He is a big-hearted, deeply empathetic, and incredibly loyal friend, and it cannot be stated enough that one of Kel’s biggest strengths is his ability to use his natural positivity and resilience to lift up those around him. He’s really the hero of the game because none of the healing would have been possible if he hadn’t continued to believe in his friends even after all of this time, hadn’t encouraged them, and hadn’t built them up just by being Kel.

And while I do think Kel does struggle to express vulnerabilities and negative emotions, I don't personally think of Kel's unwavering optimism as a mask. In my mind, Kel is not an emotional repressor or burier in the same way as Hero. In fact, because he wears his heart on his sleeve, he would probably really struggle to fake an emotion he wasn’t feeling (even if it was something positive like happiness). If Kel doesn’t want to express an emotion, I imagine he runs from it and avoids it, since it’s not natural or easy for him to “replace” or “bury” it with a fake one. Whereas Hero is much more reserved and private about his feelings, no matter what they are, so it’s much easier for him to convincingly mask pain and suffering under layers and layers of fake happiness. I just don’t think Kel would be able to hold back those emotions for very long. His negative feelings would eventually just kind of explode out of him without thinking and/or they’d become so apparent from his expressions and/or actions (since he does wear his heart on his sleeve) and everyone (including the player of the game) would know that he had so much negativity under the surface.

This isn't to say that Kel is perfectly fine. He isn't. He has suffered a terrible loss just like everyone else, but I think the game makes it clear that Kel has the most acceptance surrounding Mari's death and that he has made peace with what happened more so than the other main characters. Please keep in mind that this is only relative to the other main cast. Kel may seem "well-adjusted" in comparison to his brother and his friends who are, quite frankly, barely keeping it together, but he would not necessarily be considered well-adjusted in comparison to the non-traumatized townies. I genuinely believe that Kel is still in the process of healing, but relative to the other main cast members, he is farther along in that journey than they are.

And in that way, the game doesn't really give us a moment where Kel is overwhelmed by grief in the same way as the rest of the characters. Yes, there is the scene (one of my personal favorites) where Kel shares about his fight with Hero, and it is incredibly vulnerable and gives a lot of subtly and nuance to his character, but I don't think it's necessarily evidence that the player can't accept Kel as he presents himself to us at face value in the way that we can't accept Hero as he presents himself to us at face value. As I recently discussed in this post, the scene where Sunny finds Hero crying alone at Mari’s piano on the night of "Two Days Left" tells the player that Hero's attempts to appear well-adjusted and "fine" are, at least to a certain extent, all for show. There isn’t a Kel equivalent of this scene which, I personally think, is meant to tell the player of the game that Kel is the most well-adjusted member of his friend group (key words here being "of his friend group") and the one who has the most acceptance surrounding Mari’s death. Additionally, Mod Sprinkles actually made the point that Sunny is extremely perceptive and sensitive to his friends’ feelings and emotions. If Kel was still harboring a lot of negativity surrounding Mari’s death, Sunny likely would have picked up on that and been more hesitant to go outside with him in the first place.

This isn’t to say that Kel doesn’t ever have any negative feelings and that he doesn’t struggle to express those sometimes, but I think this struggle to express “the bad stuff” doesn’t stem from a pressure he feels to be happy all the time. That said, I do wonder sometimes if he is a little scared of feeling sad. He wants to be happy and wants everyone around him to be happy, and I think there is this certain helplessness that he feels when he can’t cheer other people up. We see a little glimpse of that in his account of his & Hero’s fight after Mari’s death. I think watching someone he loved so much go through such a deep and debilitating depression at such a young age probably permanently affected him, and he might have some worries about getting “stuck” like his brother, wallowing in that sadness and grief if he allows himself to feel it.

However, this is an unwarranted fear because Kel and Hero are very different. Even though Kel might feel sad, and his feelings are absolutely valid, I don’t think he’s prone to that level of despair and depression that we see in Hero. Understanding that his experiences and emotional responses are different than his brother’s is a big part of growing up so it might take him a while to realize this, and in the meantime, I could see it possibly manifesting itself as a sort of avoidance of sadness.

Everyone grieves differently. This is a difficult concept for even adults to understand, so I can't imagine how hard it would be for a 12-year-old like Kel. Because Kel didn't grieve Mari in the same way as Hero or his friends and didn’t spiral into the same level of despair and depression as the others, I think he struggles with invalidating his own feelings to himself sometimes--writing them off as shallow and dismissing them to himself as "just not deep enough." Again, I think this goes back to the one (1) fight that Kel and Hero had. We don’t know exactly what they said to each other in that fight, but it’s my personal headcanon that Hero lashed out at Kel for “not understanding” for he felt. From then on, I think Kel really does struggle with this fear that he just doesn’t understand emotions and because of that, any attempts to help his hurting loved ones will only make everything worse.

I’d really like to see him reach a place in which he can accept that even if his feelings and his grief are different and perhaps not as lingeringly overwhelming as the others', that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them and that doesn’t mean he didn’t care about Mari or his friends. In my mind, Kel’s hesitation and worry at expressing his negative feelings and his happy-go-lucky personality can both exist at the same time. I don't think they are mutually exclusive, and I tend to think of Kel as someone who naturally looks on the bright side of things and is genuinely optimistic and uplifting. To deny this feels like a disservice to (my personal perception of) Kel, but I think it is also a disservice to pretend he never feels sadness or any negative feelings at all. There has to be a balance.

Let Kel feel sad when he needs to but recognize that he doesn’t actually need to feel sad all that often.

#kel omori #omori kel #omori hero #hero omori #omori #omori meta #omori analysis #kel character analysis #hero character analysis #(at least a little bit)#omori spoilers #thanks for reading #hero loves his brother so we can talk about him here too i think

62 notes · View notes

deadlynavigation · 2 years

Note

Dying for a Snape piece with an angsty start and a fluffy ending!! Extra points if you can include the one-bed trope (you can pry that trope from my cold, dead hands. I’m such a sucker for it).

Love your work!❤️

Flurry

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Warnings: Fighting (verbal), swearing, one (1) mention of contraceptives, Dumbledore telling Snape he ruined the vibe

Author's Note: Requests for Snape are now closed. Thanks for your cooperation :)

I don't own Harry Potter. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

“I cannot believe you,” You mutter, storming into your room as Severus follows closely behind. He shuts the door quietly, hoping he will be able to open it soon enough.

“Y/n.” Snape starts.

“You don’t get to ‘Y/n’ me. Not after that display. What did that boy do to deserve that?”

Severus tries to interrupt. “Harry Potter has-”

“Harry Potter has done nothing. Severus, the boy deserves basic respect, and you have refused him even that. And on what grounds? His father was a dick, so now he has to suffer the consequences?”

“Absolutely not.” Severus drawls, trying to keep his frustration at bay. You’re pointing out a serious issue, he’s aware of that. But that does not mean he’ll stand down.

You inhale deeply, the tension in the room starting to suffocate you. “No other students suffer your wrath as much as him, so do not try that excuse. He has not pranked you, hurt you, or stripped you of your pride. So what are the grounds, if any?”

Severus stands silent. His lips are pressed against each other, forming a thin line that pulls at his eyebrows. His eyes examine you with intensity, as they always do, but there’s a melancholy glint to it that you can’t quite name.

Finally, he sighs and looks away. Severus won’t be able to speak his next words if he meets your gaze- he is not strong enough. “It is not your place to understand why I do this. It is not your place to question me about it, and it is certainly not your place to insult me.”

You stare at Severus after he finishes his dismissal of your every word, of your very position as his partner. He still won’t look at you, scared of what he will find- what he has caused.

What he has caused. A rift in your body has settled, still quaking from aftershocks of Severus’s words. The rift, formed between mind and heart, brings tears to your eyes, not spilling from your eyes but still making their presence known. You cannot cry just yet. Not while Severus is standing in front of you.

“Then it is not your place to be in this room.”

And before his own tears can spill, he strides out of the room, a flurry of black robes and broken hearts following him.

*___*

“Severus, what is going on?” The old man questions calmly, stroking his bird with gentle hands.

“I don’t understand,” Snape says. If he must be short with Dumbledore to get out of this impromptu session, then so he shall.

“You have not talked to Professor L/n in quite some time now,” Dumbledore turns to the professor. He grins softly. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Since when do you and Minerva dabble in faculty’s love lives? I thought it was restricted to students.”

“Oh, Severus.” Albus sighs. He walks over to his desk, sitting behind it and questioning how you dealt with this man on the daily. “What must I do to get you two to talk again? Your stormy mood is obviously the result of a fight, and it’s bringing down everyone here. It would do everyone good if you made up.”

“What others choose to do with my ‘mood’ is none of my concern. Is that all? I have papers to grade,” Snape stands.

Albus makes a mental note to give you a raise. “Yes, Severus, that is all. You may leave.” And with that, Severus swoops out of the office.

Back in the corner, Fawkes caws, seemingly put out. Albus looks over to his treasured bird, admiring it as he thinks.

“I may be able to solve this, Fawkes. Let’s call Minerva, shall we?”

*___*

Snape has been grading all day. On top of that, he’s had to teach four classes, of which two were incredibly loud, one accidentally started a fire, and the last was an advanced class, which is the kiss of death itself. At this point, he’d take a dementor over Friday’s schedule.

“Severus.” McGonagall bursts into his office, distress clearly displayed on her face.

“Minerva.” He nods. “What is the matter?”

“One of Rubeus’s young dragons escaped from their nest and made its way to your chambers. It must have been drawn by the potions you store in there-” At this, Severus coughed. The only reason those potions are in his room is because of your aversion to muggle contraceptives.

“And so, when we went to investigate the burnt smell, we discovered that the dragon had destroyed your room. Rubeus claimed that it’s still trying to get the hang of its fire-breathing capabilities, poor thing.”

Severus’s eyes widen. “My entire room?”

Minerva nods her head sadly. “We’d go to investigate the specific damage, but it’s much too dangerous for anyone to go near that wing, let alone your room.”

“Fine,” Severus sighs and rubs his eyes. “Where am I to sleep, then?”

“Well, we’ve taken the liberty of asking around, and there’s only one spot available.”

“With whom?” All he wants to do is finish grading and return to a warm room. A calm room, with the fire preferably contained to the fireplace.

“Professor L/n.”

“Fine.” Snape is determined to hide any emotion affiliated with that name. “I will take up residence with the professor until my room is repaired.”

“Thank you, Severus. We’ll have a repair team at the school soon.” And as McGonagall walks out, Severus lets himself fall to his seat, head held in his hands.

*___*

When a frazzled Minerva McGonagall approaches you in a hurry and rants about Snape’s room and Rubeus’s dragon and Dumbeldore’s repair team and finally, how there is no other place but your room that is open to Snape, you can’t just turn her away and say no.

So when 3pm rolls around, you stretch, pack your books and papers away for the night, and start the journey to your chambers. It’s a short walk from your classroom, one that doesn’t intercept with too many bustling students- and the ones you do run into are nice, wishing you a good evening and even striving to make small talk.

So after you’ve said hello to a few students and gotten to your door, you’re more than ready to relax in the privacy of your room. You swing the door open and plop your things onto the small table, right before you remember your talk with Minerva this afternoon.

You close your eyes and breathe deeply through your nose. Shit.

To top it off, he’s probably already here- it’s Friday, the one day you have more classes than him. This situation keeps getting better and better.

But it’s fine, you tell yourself. You’re an adult, you’re mature, and you can handle a grumpy Severus.

All those thoughts fly out of your head as soon as your partner turns the corner to run into you.

He looks mad. And incredibly hot. But mad, and the silent type, the type that sends shivers down students’ spines and makes you fear for your life.

Fine. You can be the calm, mature one in this situation. “Hello, Severus.”

He barely acknowledges you, tilting his chin slightly down. “Y/n.” He responds.

And that was that. You went off to start dinner, not in the mood for a big feast tonight. Severus wandered off to Merlin knows where.

It’s a small kitchen, certainly not one fit for a queen, but a functional one. The basic appliances are all present, the cupboards are filled with plates and silverware, and as you start to cook, the tiny room fills up with the pleasant aroma of spice.

Right when you’re dishing the food, Severus swishes in. He timed his cleaning of the sitting area perfectly, it sees.

“Dinner’s ready.” You say, grabbing utensils and seating yourself at the table.

“Smells delightful.” Severus may be mad, but he’s not rude. Not to you.

“...Thanks.” You’re still hesitant after what happened between you two. He was way out of line, and he needs to apologise before he can compliment your cooking.

Dinner proceeds with that thought hanging in your mind. Only the sounds of forks clunking on plates can be heard, the occasional shout from the corridors echoing through the rooms.

Soon enough, dinner is finished, plates are washed and put away, and you’ve sat down to grade papers. It’s a tedious task, full of horrific handwriting and misused adjectives.

“Their handwriting leaves something to be desired.” Severus leans over your shoulder to glance at the papers. Your breath catches as he murmurs the last word of his sentence, but you catch yourself before you can do something about it. He needs to apologise before you do anything like that whatsoever.

“It’s certainly not their best,” You mumble, turning your head towards his form. He chuckles softly, sending all thoughts in your mind out the window with the deep noise.

You need to get out before you do something stupid.

“I’m going to bed.” You snap the papers shut and stride off towards your bedroom. You hurry to shut the door and go through your night routine. You can hear Severus pacing in the next room the entire time.

Right before you get into bed, he knocks on the door.

“Come in,” you say, turning to face him.

“I was wondering what the sleeping arrangements were to be for the night?” Severus drawls.

“Oh- yes.” You pause. “I’m open to sharing the bed, but the couch is open if you’d like.”

“The bed will suit.” He responds, gliding towards the bathroom to carry on with his own routine. He’s silent throughout it, so you’re able to slip into bed and unwind a bit before he reemerges.

You’re half asleep by the time that occurs. Snape realises this, cautiously stepping out of the bathroom and into the bed. He lays there for a moment, slowly shuffling around and rearranging his t-shirt for a comfortable drape.

The potions professor turns to look at you afterwards. You’re beautiful, especially like this- eyes closed, face smushed into the pillow, a relaxed look that will stay on your face for the rest of the weekend. And how you look so at peace, like he didn’t yell at you and you weren’t fighting and all's right with the world.

Alas, the only thing that brings that future is an apology.

“Y/n,” Severus whispers, hoping to refrain from waking you up if you’re already asleep.

“Severus,” You respond after a minute, and his worries are relieved.

“I realise the mistakes I have made, and how they have affected you.” He starts, inhaling deeply. You nod, waiting for an apology.

“And I am sorry for what I said and what I have caused.”

You nod again, this time more slowly. You’ll accept it, but he’s still got a long way to go.

“Thank you, Severus.” He breathes a sigh of relief. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though.”

“Of course, dear.”

“And you’re in charge of breakfast tomorrow.”

“Of course, dear.”

“And if I kick you in my sleep, it’s well deserved.”

“Of course, dear.”

With that, you snuggle into Severus’s arms, resting your head on his chest and stroking his hair until your movements slow and your breaths even.

And somewhere in the castle, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall giggle over wine and a fine view of Snape’s perfectly intact room.

(Navigation)

#severus snape x reader #snape x reader #fluff #angst #severus snape x professor!reader #hogwarts #fanfiction #x reader #oneshot #requests #harry potter #albus dumbledore #minerva mcgonagall #only one bed #im a sucker for tropes

914 notes · View notes

androdragynous · 1 month

Note

tell me something about your art. fucking love the recent sharp angles.

thank you for giving me an excuse to ramble I love you. kiss

this is going to be a long post but I think it's important so I'm leaving it as a normal post and not a read more

I wrote more words and changed my mind because I got distracted a bunch of times by talking to myself. Enjoy

my own works in general have always been like. The Way By Which I Interact With The World which I think is a pretty common artist experience. my fan art tended to focus on my own characters in those settings rather than on the existing characters because of that, to my younger self's chagrin at times (the desire to Appeal To Fandom was much stronger in my younger years, which I think is also pretty typical). so there was always that lens of, like, these characters aren't me, but they could have been, in some way, or at least when viewed at certain angles. first guy is dealing with the same shit, second guy is doing some gender stuff baby me won't unpack for another five years, you get the idea.

and then the whole disability thing ramped up a few notches and everything went to shit, which is to say, for a really long time there I couldn't so much as look at art without pain, let alone long enough to create it. I did not have the tools to accomodate that disability or the finances to get them, and so for a really long time I was basically cut off from... what honestly felt like my ability to connect with people.

this sucked very badly in many ways. it's still not back to where it was before things got worse, but I'm happy with where it's been recently. I don't know how much of that is connected to getting a blood transfusion and the affiliated correction to my quantity of blood. I don't know how much of it is just pure desperation to reconnect with a world that I feel estranged from. We will come back to this point because I have a different tangent first:

I really don't like vent art. I don't like making it, I don't like posting it, and I don't like seeing it. I understand why people make it - I understand why I do - but there's a very harsh rawness to it that feels inappropriate as a viewer. It's voyeuristic; it's a look into something incredibly deeply personal hurt and an equally deep and genuine desire to have that hurt seen, validified, comforted.

I do not think vent art is bad to create or share, to be clear. The fact it makes me uncomfortable does not illegitimize it. Could honestly strengthen its reason for existing, to be quite honest.

The line blurs with disability, though, and this is where we come back to the original tangent, because to talk about disability that cannot be cured will innately be seen as venting. It's basically inevitable, in my experience. You're supposed to want to get better. You're supposed to hate existing like this. So if you mention it, to people who haven't either been in the same boat or who haven't taken the time to work through their own baggage about it, it's innately a vent. It's innately a hurt that you're burdening them with, a hurt that you want recognized and helped. My family members have been particularly bad about this viewpoint, but so have friends and medical professionals. So have strangers. I find it akin to arguments against gay public displays of affection; two men holding hands is sexual, using a mobility aid is pitiable. You get me? There's that innate sense that you, as the person watching a disabled person be disabled, should be feeling something about it, and if it's not inspiration porn, obviously you're meant to be sad. If it wasn't clear, this is the description of a train of thought that I believe is entirely incorrect.

Anyways. So disability art ends up grouped as vent art if you talk about it sucking at all, even if the suck is about the barriers presented by society and not the disability itself. I can, of course, only speak for my own experience, which is what this post is about, so my situation is very much barriers-focused.

People really, really aren't good at dealing with the discomfort part, what I detailed as the emotions I feel around vent art. People don't know what to do when you don't want help, or their help doesn't help (for whatever reason), or basically in any situation where you can't actually fix things, which is a lot of Being Disabled. It's hard to sit with that discomfort, especially when it's about a person's vulnerability. People want to help others, generally, in my experience, and it's difficult to not be able to when it's someone you care about.

Which all ties back into the voyeurism; to be visibly disabled is to be a spectacle. This has also been pretty inevitable, in my experience. Being in a wheelchair draws attention. Using a cane draws attention. Wearing an eye patch draws attention. So on and so forth. Sometimes this is great - people will offer their chairs to me sometimes if I'm using my cane, for example, which I appreciate - and sometimes it is less great.

This ties in, for me, with the part people REALLY don't like talking about, which is sex and sexuality. How do you date when you can't go out to many places? How do you get to know someone when you live with others and can't invite them over? How do you look sexy when you feel and kind of look like a corpse? These are all questions I'd love to know the answers to, because I'm shit out of luck on figuring it out so far, and that's not even touching on the actual sex, because I don't want to get this post filtered if I can help it. There's a balance, right, of being visible on purpose by flirting, dressing up, going out, making an impact, that is both directly overlapping with and directly opposed to the inevitable visibility of visible disability. They juxtapose magnificently, in a kind of sun and moon during an eclipse sort of way, you get me? You have to lean into it. You have to make yourself comfortable in that visibility because it's inevitable, and you are going to inevitably be viewed as a spectacle because you've leaned into it, and you're never going to be viewed as sexual because nobody will ever distinguish that there are two kinds of visibility being done, here.

And THAT I think is where my art is at right now, trying to convey that overlap. I do not think I have been subtle about it - it's loud colors, sharp lines, layers of vandalism over the original draft, a kind of intentional obscuration that implies many others were drawn to leave their mark there. You know? But because of What It Is, I do think it causes discomfort in the overlap. It's supposed to. It's inevitable that it would. I think being disabled is overtly sexual in the way being gay is overtly sexual in the way being trans is overtly sexual, in that none of them are but none of them aren't, either, in the right contexts or the wrong ones. People are going to see you exist and come to their own conclusions about how wrong you must feel in existing, and they will be made uncomfortable by that perception, and they will want to fix you. You have to accept that or you have to be uncomfortable right back. There's not really a third option that keeps you alive. This is all connected to the art, because the art is also inherently sexual, for approximately the same reasons.

So the tldr is "op is it weird if I think this is hot" is both the intended response and yes, it is weird, and you have to sit with the fact that both of those are true and you have to be normal about it for the rest of your life forever, and also you should take that knowledge and get weirder about it. It's a complex system. I also may have described none of it. Good luck.

#patch me through to palaven command

22 notes · View notes

nautiscarader · 2 months

Text

Announcing my semi-retirement

This is a post I have been putting of writing for quite some time, and I make it with heavy heart... But first, tl;dr!

Most importantly, Don't Panic!

No, I'm not going anywhere.

I am also not deleting anything.

I simply don't want to give you false expectations about my activity here. I will keep writing, just at my (very) own pace.

Right, do we all have towels, and some refreshments of your choice?

Cool, let's dive right in - it will be over soon.

(oh and usual minor content warning regarding health stuff applies)

...what have I just said? I am not going anywhere! ...or at least not by my choice.

Yeah, in the past 10 months I have disappeared without a trace to the point that some of you thought I have snuffed it. 2.5 months, two weeks here or there, month and then another month out of nowhere...

The sad truth is that my illness, multiple sclerosis, is spreading, plus I have some other health issues that do need looking at occasionally. In fact, I might be going to some new clinic in September/October, but that's TBA.

As a result, I have become steadily more and more unreliable when it comes to delivering prompts, or even basic asks - and I cannot let that stay. Not to mention the length and quality of my works got hit by that - some of you have noticed that and pointed out/asked me about it in the most delicate way - and I thank you deeply for that.

me_irl

And I can already hear you...err...type: "We don't care! Take your time!" Guys, I have taken so much time that the Time Lords will soon be on my ass asking for it back with interest.

I... simply don't want to give you guys false hope and expectations.

I believe I heard it in Hank Green's cancer vlog that once such illness hits you, it "becomes your job". So think of it like that. Me having a really taxing job, often requiring my presence at inconvenient times.

Or maybe think of me going on holidays! To... hospitals...

So that is it, from now, I free myself from the shackles and obligations of prompts and writing weeks... though of course I have been falling out of rhythm for a loooong time, so... I think it is fair to say you are already used to it...

I will keep writing and publishing stuff... very occasionally, though. And I may one day just decide I am feeling strong enough for some quick round of prompts. In fact I will be updating some prompt hubs with old tumblr asks, so keep an eye on that.

Aaand of course I am not leaving you alone!

I can wholeheartedly recommend @fereality-indy, @animation-recaps-by-sean, @noblechaton, @billythsquid, @noblesnook, @thatguywiththefaceog and so many more writers here and on Ao3 - feel free to browse my bookmarks there!

Oh, and speaking of Ao3, don't forget it that it has excellent backup function! As for tumblr, there is tumblrThree, a program to back up any blog, if you are afraid of someone disappearing! You can download mine! it only weights...

...seventy-seven gigabytes, that is a lot of lolcats.

Anyway, that is it. Honestly, not much is going to change. I have been barely writing, and I will continue to do so - it's just I now have medical papers as an excuse.

Thanks to all of you for understanding and for your many messages of concern and support!

Oh, one more thing - H-Hotel!

Feel free to invite your own crazy crossover couples there and use this gif, I mean it, just credit and tag me.

...the only thing is, there is this huge boiler in the basement, and someone will need to check if it doesn't overheat. And since it runs on stardust, it would be bad for the multiverse if it exploded.

But I'm sure you will remember.

Anyway, see you later!

#personal

20 notes · View notes

imagineitdearies · 3 months

Note

firstly, perfect slaughter is so brilliant! you must be so proud with what you have created. your characterisation of Tyrus fits so well into the story and his relationship with Astarion is amazing. i don’t have the right words to express how much i love this.

one thing that also really stuck to me was cazador’s characterisation and his sick and twisted obsession with astarion and tyrus, you have clearly done so much research to understand his character.

which brings to my ask (apologies if you have already spoken about this): cazador says some really interesting things about astarion before the fight if you don’t bring astarion with you. it got me thinking about what are the factors that really drive cazador’s obsession with him specifically, considering most info the player gets is from astarion directly. i want to get your take on it, is it a deep rooted, subconscious fear/hatred that astarion has the capability to rebel, like in someways he is similar to cazador before he killed vellioth or is it more ‘simple’ as astarion is just the most fun to torment in comparison to others??

long ask, sorry

Hi anon! Thanks so much 😊 definitely feeling proud of PS, it's really shown me the high-level storytelling I'm capable of when I feel passionate enough about a project!

I think I've talked a bit about Cazador's obsession with Astarion but I'm not sure it was on my tumblr, so I'm happy to throw in my two cents! Like you've already listed out, though, there's multiple theories and likely all are true to some extent.

Thoughts below the cut:

When I think of Cazador Szarr, I think of how much fear can be a poison. A little of it is healthy, but when you let fear drive every decision you ever make, you're on a swift tunnel downward into all the no-good emotions: distrust, loathing, contempt, malice, sadism, etc, turned outward and inward. So yes, when you're a person who's let fear drive basically all your emotions and decisions, what kind of individual would make these ugly reactions flare up even more drastically? Yup, someone you fear. Now why would he fear Astarion extra--I have a few theories:

As you said, he sees Astarion's defiant nature (e.g. "the boy has always been troublesome" he writes in his journal) as similar to his spawn self, and therefore believes he has a similar potential to rebel and overthrow him. (This idea not only plays into Cazador's fears, but also his internal self-loathing.)

I like the fanon idea that Astarion shares a semi-similar personality and even physical traits with Vellioth, which certainly would trigger the hell out of Cazador and fuel the need to go extra hard on him out of anger, but also leftover fear.

When I meet the other spawn in bg3, there's just such a stark difference between Astarion from the very start of meeting him--he retained his sense of self in a way the rest really don't seem to have. They all act and talk a certain way, feel almost actually like siblings despite no physical relation, while he stands out like the black--silver?--sheep of the family. Therefore, outside of just his defiant nature, because it's not like he was always defiant with Cazador (i.e. Leon calling him a "lickspittle"), I'd argue Astarion simply has a resilient force of personality. He won't "drink the kool-aid" and lose himself in the name of survival. And maybe this is a hot take, but I think Cazador deeply fears ridicule and judgment. Having a spawn who retains a personality and even worse, opinions of him beyond fear and submission...how terrifying.

Of course, there are factors besides fear that could be examined. We cannot ignore Astarion's canon line: "He[...]did take special pleasure in my pain--he said my screams sounded sweetest." You can argue Cazador enjoyed Astarion's screams only for deeper, more contextual reasons like those outlined above, but I headcanon (and included in PS) that Astarion had the hard combination of a more resilient spirit but a lower pain tolerance than his siblings. So it was easier to get him screaming, but harder to truly break him, which is a hell of a lot more fun for a certified sadist like Cazador.

Alright, that's probably enough yapping from me! Cazador is quite the interesting beastie, isn't he?

#fic: perfect slaughter #ask me anything #cazador szarr #bg3 cazador #astarion #me blabbing #cazador character study #bg3 headcanons

32 notes · View notes

daechwitatamic · 2 years

Text

X. So I Follow || KNJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

In light of the incident with Taehyung, you prepare to spend Christmas alone.

Section Warnings: language, arguing/fighting (just some shoving), angst!, but also fluff in this one wow, bar scenes and recreational drinking

WC: 7.8k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

You watch it cross his face as Taehyung decides to make you prove it, but you don’t have enough time to react before he’s doing the thing you’d day-dreamed of time after time after time - before you knew Namjoon. He’s closing the gap between you, his hand curling in the fabric of your jacket, his lips finding yours, searching for something that three months ago he probably would have found.

You shove Taehyung in the chest with both hands, and he stumbles away from you.

“You fucking asshole,” you growl. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“You said we’re the same as we’ve always been?” he spits back. “You’re a fucking liar.”

You’re so blindingly angry, suddenly, that you can barely think, can barely match up words to make a sentence. “Fuck you,” you manage, the words feeling like they’re torn from your chest, leaving a bloody, gaping wound in their place. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

His brows furrow; for a minute, he looks genuinely lost. Then, something hard replaces the look. “You’re that serious about him? Already?”

You’re ready to answer this affirmatively, but he presses on. “You’ve never dated anyone, never even got to a second date. Now you’re seeing this guy for, what, a few weeks, and I’m nothing to you? Just like that?”

Something changes inside of you; you go from boiling angry to pure ice in only seconds. The silence pulses and then flatlines between you, as dead as your friendship. All you can do is stare at him, the seething rage knitting itself into something metallic instead.

“I waited for you,” you tell him, deathly calm, like you’re explaining a math problem. At your sides, your hands are shaking. “I waited for you for years. I cannot - I do not have words for how deeply unfair it is for you to show up now and try to ruin this for me.” You spit the words, clipping your consonants hard.

Neither of you has ever said it out loud. But it’s out now. No take-backs.

He stares at you, chest heaving, eyes wide. There’s no going back to how things were, now. That option is well and truly buried, nails in the coffin.

“Goodbye, Taehyung,” you force yourself to say, and you turn and take the steps at a clip, letting the door shut behind you, leaving him out in the cold for good.

You stop on the staircase, nearly at your floor, and slump against the bannister. What are you going to say to Namjoon? Hey, by the way, the guy you knew I had feelings for just kissed me. Maybe not quite like that. But you definitely have to tell him.

Honestly though, you don’t feel like you have the bandwidth for that conversation right now. You feel like… you feel like you’re grieving.

You need the space and time to mourn, to accept that you’ve walked away from something that you’ve lived in comfortably for years. To accept that you’ll never have back the friendship you once had - even if you and Taehyung manage to land somewhere okay when this is all over, the truth is things will never again be how they were between you. It just isn’t possible.

You don’t want to cry over Taehyung in front of Namjoon. He’s already given you so much grace, so much understanding and patience. This… this would be too much. At least until you can calm down, get your head right, talk about it rationally. So, when you enter the apartment and find his door closed, you leave him be. You head for your own bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind you.

–

Namjoon feels tortured and trapped in his room; he paces, he tries doing sit-ups, he takes a shower just to hold his breath under the spray of hot water.

None of it helps.

Finally, like a dog with its tail between its legs, he flops on his bed in defeat and picks up his phone.

[11:24 PM] Namjoon: you guys wanna say i told you so now, or later

[11:24 PM] Hobi: uh oh

[11:25 PM] Yoongi: what happened

Namjoon sighs, rubs a hand over his face. He doesn’t want to tell them. But he can’t shoulder this alone, he knows himself well enough to know it.

[11:27 PM] Namjoon: just caught her kissing him

[11:28 PM] Namjoon: literally right in front of the apartment

He closes his eyes, resting his phone on his chest. He can feel it buzz with the reactions rolling in, but he feels like he can’t make himself look at them.

Something niggles in the back of his mind, stirs in the pit of his stomach.

Something about how your hands had been balled into fists at your sides.

[11:29 PM] Hobi: what the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

[11:30 PM] Yoongi: dude i’m sorry

[11:31 PM] Hobi: bro that’s a dick move by taehyung

[11:31 PM] Hobi: like thats legitimately not okay he owes you a huge apology

[11:32 PM] Hobi: if i were you i’d go to his place and talk to him. like right now.

[11:34 PM] Yoongi: forget talking to taehyung, that can wait

[11:35 PM] Yoongi: have you talked to HER yet??

[11:37 PM] Hobi: wow double question mark. Mr Min is serious

[11:37 PM] Yoongi: shut up hoseok

[11:39 PM] Namjoon: i dont think i can even look at her right now tbh

[11:39 PM] Namjoon: let alone talk…

[11:42 PM] Namjoon: wtf would i even say to her?

[11:45 PM] Namjoon: ‘was it everything you ever hoped for?’

[11:45 PM] Namjoon: fuck

He sets his phone on the mattress beside him and closes his eyes. Stupid… stupid… stupid… It echoes through his head, harmonizing nicely with Hobi and Yoongi’s voices telling him he gives people - women - too much faith, lets them take advantage of him.

But you’d told him you were in this.

You’d told him you wanted to be with him, not Taehyung.

You’d told him this thing between you was real, and that it deserves to be.

He’s told you he trusts you. Did that change? Was he wrong to?

Or are things not adding up?

He picks up his phone again.

[11:52 PM] Hobi: might be nice to have some answers

[11:53 PM] Yoongi: that’s true… we all know this wouldn’t be the first time taehyung has shown his ass…

Namjoon considers this silently. He starts to get up, then stills. This repeats twice more, before he finally throws himself out of bed and leaves his room before his nerves can fail. He crosses the living room to find your bedroom door shut – rare, these days. He knocks, calls your name quietly. When you don’t answer, he tries the doorknob.

It’s locked.

“Hey,” he calls. “Let me in.”

You don’t answer.

He knows it’s not the same, not what’s happening now, but he’s picturing you on the day you’d gone silent, laying in bed, facing the wall, unmoving, unblinking. His chest clenches with the need to make sure you’re okay, despite what he’d seen, despite the conclusions he’d drawn.

He leans his forehead against the cool wood of the door. “Baby,” he says, voice so hushed it’s practically a whisper. “Please, open the door and talk to me.”

He waits a long moment, one hand against the door, and then the doorknob clicks. As soon as he can see your face through the crack, it’s clear you’ve been crying.

His brain starts running possibilities as fast as a bullet-train. You’re crying because you know you did something wrong, and you feel guilty. You’re crying because you’re conflicted about who you want, and it’s hurting. You’re crying because you’ve decided to be with Taehyung after all, and you know you have to let Namjoon down. You’re crying because…

“What happened?” he manages to ask, feeling like there’s glass in his throat as he tugs the words out of his stomach.

He resists the urge to reach out and touch your face, wipe a stray tear away.

You take a deep breath, avert your eyes. Then you seem to steel yourself and say very clearly, “Taehyung just kissed me.”

Then, you rush ahead, the rest of the words tumbling out of you so fast that Namjoon almost misses some of it. “But I pushed him away – I called him an asshole, I told him he missed his chance.”

You take another breath, eyes filling with fresh tears. You still haven’t looked up at Namjoon. “I’m sorry,” you finish in a whisper.

Namjoon doesn’t remember moving, doesn’t decide to move, but his arms are suddenly around you as you bury your face in his shirt, shoulders still trembling a little under his hands.

He’s so overcome with relief that it almost makes him go boneless – relief that he hadn’t been wrong to trust you, relief that you’d chosen him after all.

But as he holds you, as he feels your shaking slowly ebb away, he remembers the times you’d called Taehyung family, the stories you’d told of having no one else. In that moment, he truly feels your sorrow down into his own bones.

“You have me,” he thinks, then realizes he’s said it out loud. You shift in his arms to look up at him, eyes big and red-rimmed. He gives you a little squeeze, struggles to wade through how protective he feels with you. “I know that maybe it’s not the same… but for as long as you want me there,” he promises, “you have me.”

Tuesday December 11th

You lay in Namjoon’s embrace, chest to chest, his strong arms locked behind your back. You’re not sure how long you’ve been encased like this, one leg tucked between his, listening to his heart beating next to your ear. Long enough for the sweat to cool.

You shiver a little, and Namjoon runs a hand reverently down your arm, chasing away goosebumps with the warmth of his palm. Behind him, you can hear your phone vibrate on your nightstand.

Again.

You try to pretend you don’t hear it. You try to distract Namjoon by reaching up to kiss his jaw sweetly. He looks down at you, eyes narrowed, seeing right through your bullshit.

“Is that him again?”

“I don’t know,” you say innocently. “I haven’t looked at it.”

But you both know it is.

He’s been calling - and texting - since you left him on the sidewalk two nights ago. You’d turned your phone off on Sunday night, as soon as you’d cottoned on that he wasn’t going to give up. When you’d gotten brave enough to turn it on Monday morning, it was to three voicemails, unending missed calls, and a series of texts that blurred before you as you teared up over their desperation.

[12:18 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: please pick up

[12:31 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: pick up the phone [12:32 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: talk to me

[2:52 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: i’m so sorry [2:52 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: i’m such an asshole [2:52 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: fuck i’m so so sorry

[3:22 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: please talk to me [3:23 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: you’re probably sleeping so i’m gonna stop [3:24 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: but if you decide you want to talk please call me

[9:04 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: good morning [9:05 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: can we talk today?

You hadn’t answered any of it, and he’d continued Monday afternoon.

[4:46 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: please, talk to me so i can apologize for real [4:52 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: you’ve never not talked to me for this long before [4:54 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: even that time i backed into Lin’s car and let her blame you… [4:54 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: did i fuck everything up that badly?

Yes, you want to tell him. But you don’t have the heart. It’s hard enough, takes enough of your self-control, to resist answering. To resist telling him it’s okay.

It isn’t. You know it isn’t.

As the texts roll in through Monday night and Tuesday morning, you feel like Namjoon’s steadying gaze on you, or his hand solid in yours, is the only thing that keeps you from skittering back into safe, familiar old habits. And to his credit, he barely leaves you alone while you’re both home. He stays in your space, quiet and calm, watching you carefully, searching for signs that you might need more from him.

The phone buzzes again, insistent - a phone call.

You sigh in Namjoon’s arms. “Maybe I should answer him,” you muse. “If for nothing else, then to tell him to knock it off.”

Namjoon rolls to pick up your phone and places it, still buzzing, in your hands. “It’s your decision,” he says carefully.

You watch Taehyung’s name, with the stupid emoji after it, scroll across the top of your screen. You don’t pick up.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” you admit. “I don’t even know what I’d tell him. I have nothing to say.”

“Then don’t,” Namjoon advises gently. “Turn it off for a while. Let’s get something to eat.”

“Yeah,” you say absently, pressing your finger to the power button. “You’re right.” You watch, feeling utterly hollow, as your screen goes black.

Thursday December 13th

It’s hard for Namjoon to watch, honestly, though he does his best to bite his tongue and just support you. But you float through the apartment like a ghost, and he can’t help but feel guilt over the fact that you chose to be haunted for his sake.

You’re staring at your phone, which - despite being powered off - is sitting by your elbow. Like, even though you pressed the power button yourself, you're waiting for the next call.

“You should do something for yourself tonight,” he hears himself suggest. Problem-solving mode again, like he just can’t help himself. But maybe it’ll be for the better. “Like a bubble bath or something. Why don’t you go run one? I’ll pour you some wine.”

The look you give him nearly knocks his knees out - you turn to him with a look of pure adoration, disbelieving wonder. You look at him like he’s too good to be true.

It breaks his heart. It breaks his heart that a simple act of kindness feels so large to you - because no one, not your family, or fucking Kim Taehyung, or any of your other friends, had ever done it for you.

“You should leave your phone out here,” he suggests. “Bring a book.”

You give him a different sort of look, then, one that says don’t tell me what to do.

“I’m just saying!” He smiles innocently. “It’ll ruin your inner peace if you turn it on.”

“Inner peace,” you grumble at him, but you head into your bathroom, your phone face down on the breakfast bar. A minute later, Namjoon hears the bathtub water running.

He brings you in a glass of wine as promised, also carrying in the poetry book you’d bought him at the antique shop a few days ago.

“Don’t get this wet,” he warns jokingly. You smile up at him, most of you hidden beneath an aggressive amount of bubbles.

“I won’t,” you promise. “I have a tray.”

Namjoon backtracks to the kitchen, recorking the wine and wiping down the counter. He’s humming absently, lost in thought about what he’d been writing, when he hears footsteps stop outside the front door.

His intuition kicks in with a quick slap of adrenaline. He opens the front door roughly and immediately shoulders Taehyung backwards into the hallway, closing the door behind him and crossing his arms, physically putting himself between Taehyung and you.

Taehyung gapes at him, eyes wide, mouth dropped in indignation. Then, his pride catches up, and his eyes narrow. “What are you, her bodyguard?” he asks sourly. “Did she tell you not to let me in?”

“No,” Namjoon admits, willing himself to stay logical, not to let his temper take over. “But I want to talk to you.”

“I just bet you do,” Taehyung mutters.

Namjoon breathes in for four, holds it for four, lets it out for six. He’s known Taehyung for years, sees him as a nuisance of a little brother in a lot of ways, has a lot of affection for him. But watching you hurt, and hurt, and hurt - it isn’t going to continue.

“I’m sorry you found out about us the way you did,” Namjoon says, hoping that beginning with his own apology will help soften the rest of the conversation. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I wasn’t trying to be… it would have been better for her to talk to you about it on her own terms. I didn’t mean to take that away from her. Or you.”

“I really don’t want to talk about this with you,” Taehyung says, voice low and dangerous. “I want to talk to her. Move.”

“You need to back off,” Namjoon says carefully. “You’re breaking her fucking heart, bro. Give her some time.”

Taehyung laughs in his face, the sound ugly and echoing in the empty hallway. “Fuck you,” he says. “If it’s breaking her heart to stay away from me, doesn’t that tell you something? She wants to talk to me, she misses me. Move.”

Namjoon shakes his head, clings to reason, tries desperately to make Taehyung see reason, too. “Try to understand,” he begs. “You’re messing with her head. Do you even want her? If she came out here now and said she wanted to be with you, would you even know what to do with that?”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow even further, if possible. “What are you talking about?” he asks, the question like a hiss between his teeth. “You’re pissing me off, Namjoon. She and I need to talk - get out of the way.”

Namjoon’s temper flares. “Taehyung,” he says, just one of many times in their friendship he’s felt like he had to talk sense into the younger man. “You don’t love her, so let her go.”

Taehyung freezes, then raises his chin, face flat and impassive. “Who says I don’t love her?” he asks, bone-chillingly cold.

Namjoon breaks eye contact, takes another steadying breath. “Feeling like she’s yours,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to explain, “doesn’t make it love.”

Taehyung makes a disbelieving tch noise, but Namjoon pushes on.

“Feeling like you have a claim on her doesn’t mean you love her. And you know what? Even if it did, even if we agreed that you love her… this is not the right way. She deserves to be loved the right way, and this isn’t it. And if you don’t want to lose her completely, then you need to wrap your head around that.”

Taehyung is spared having to respond to this. Behind Namjoon, you’ve been listening from the doorway. You step into view, your face flushed from the warm bath and the glass of wine, flushed from what you’ve overheard.

Immediately, Taehyung moves closer, trying to dart past Namjoon to reach you, saying your name like a prayer.

“Please, let’s talk,” he begs, the words all a rush.

Namjoon keeps his body between you, but glances over his shoulder at you. Taehyung’s intended dig about being your bodyguard doesn’t feel too off, right now. “Do you want me to make him leave?” he asks, feeling so worked up he thinks he could probably carry Taehyung out of here by the back of his neck if given the okay.

“No,” you say, your voice tiny. Namjoon tongues his cheek, but steps aside. Taehyung shoots him a cutting, victorious look, but then you speak again, your voice still so little. “But… will you stay?” You creep into the hallway, looking entirely unsure, and Namjoon welcomes it happily when you press against his side, one of your hands resting over his diaphragm, the other curling into the material of his shirt over his back.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, and Namjoon’s heart breaks again at the look of betrayal and hurt that you level at your best friend. “What are you doing?”

“I –”

“Taehyung,” you say again, so broken, and it stops him in his tracks. “You don’t love me. You never did. So what the hell is happening here?”

He looks back at you, a look of absolute devastation crossing his face. For a second, Namjoon feels bad for him - just for a second. “Please, let’s talk by ourselves,” Taehyung begs.

You shake your head. “After the shit you pulled last time? Absolutely not.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “I shouldn’t have - I know I shouldn’t have - it’s just -

“What?” you snap, suddenly pissed all over again.

“I can’t lose you,” he says plainly.

You look at the ground, then - inexplicably - up at Namjoon. Like you’re deciding something. Like you’re calculating. Then, you look back at Taehyung, your body language changing as you stand up straight again. When you speak, your voice is firm and even.

You grounded me.

“I don’t want that either,” you say, finally. “But I’m not going to be with you - not like that. And let’s both be honest - you don’t actually want that, either. You only went there because you thought someone else was winning. And frankly? I refuse to play. So you know what, Taehyung? When you can grow up and figure out what you actually want, you can call me to talk about it - not until then.”

You disentangle yourself from Namjoon and stalk back inside. Namjoon pauses. Taehyung is staring at the ground, unblinking.

“You’re my friend, too,” Namjoon says quietly, feeling like he can’t even look Taehyung in the face right now. “I hope we can figure that out, too, when you’re ready.”

Taehyung’s response is his middle finger over his shoulder as he stalks down the hallway towards the stairs.

Friday December 22nd

Through cobbled streets in tiny towns Through suffocating crowds on city sidewalks Down dirt lanes and past silent, towering silos

I follow you

Through pathless forests, over tripping roots Beneath canopies of black and green Over fallen trees whose rings tell of being felled

I follow you

To mountains bathed in sunlight’s glory Up slopes that want to pull me down To views of winding rivers - strips of ribbon below

I follow you

To ocean waves that crash and scream Tantruming relentlessly against packed sand shores The line of the horizon ebbing with the moonrise

I follow you

My feet are meant to follow yours My heart is meant to follow yours The world is mine, but I want only yours

So I follow

I follow you

–

You close the notebook before you can scratch anything out. That one needs to marinate a little. It’s not like you to forgo a rhyme scheme, and you’re not sure how you feel about the flow.

You haven’t heard from Taehyung in almost two weeks. But you haven’t reached out, either.

When you hear Namjoon come through the front door, you slide your notebook back into your backpack, leaving no incriminating evidence.

“Hey,” he says, stopping by your side and giving your shoulders some affectionate squeezes. “What are you up to?”

“Was writing,” you tell him. “Sort of.”

He laughs at sort of. “What a mood,” he says with a smile. Then, he drops himself in the stool next to yours at the breakfast bar, drumming his knuckles where your notebook had been just moments before.

You know that tic - he’s anxious.

“What is it?” you ask, instantly worried. “Did something happen?”

You’re imagining all sorts of scenarios - Taehyung confronted him, Elyse texted again, he failed an assignment, he’s breaking up with you -

“Nothing bad,” he assures you, stopping the spiral in its place. “I just had something to ask you. I guess I’m nervous. I know I shouldn’t be.”

“Oh,” you say. “Okay. Well - what is it?”

He glances at you shyly, and you feel your heart swell with affection.

“What are your Christmas plans?” he asks.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this.

“Oh,” you say again, deflating. “I was… just staying here, I think.”

The I think is a lie. Your plan was absolutely to stay, alone, in the apartment. You had no intention of going home for the holidays. It would mean over an hour in the car each way with Taehyung, whom you haven’t spoken to in ten whole days. Plus, Lin is working. Normally you’d go to Taehyung’s house and let his parents try to pretend you weren’t imposing, but that’s not an option this year either.

Honestly, the idea of your first Christmas without them - Taehyung’s mom and dad - is kind of depressing. You’d sent a gift in the mail, but it won’t be the same.

Namjoon raps his knuckles again. “Um,” he says, so uncertainly that it makes you smile a little bit, “how would you feel about coming home with me? To my parents’?”

You’re stunned into silence. “I - Do - Would your parents be okay with that? It’s not too last minute?”

“They’d be thrilled,” Namjoon tells you seriously. “They thought I’d never get ov- I mean, they’d be happy to meet you.”

You smile to yourself at his slip. “When were you going to leave?”

“I’m taking the train in the morning. Plenty of time to pack.”

“I need to do laundry,” you muse out loud, already in planning mode.

“So, you’ll come with me?” he clarifies.

“Yeah,” you say slowly, still mentally writing a to-do list. “If you’re sure I’m not imposing… they have to feed me and everything. You’re sure it’s okay?”

He laughs, kisses the top of your head. “I promise,” he says.

Later, as you and Namjoon sit side by side on the couch, folding laundry together, your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

Your heart leaps, hoping it will be Taehyung, caving just in time for the holidays, wanting to talk it out before Christmas Day.

It’s Lin.

Your heart sinks, your throat gets tight. You push the hurt and disappointment aside and avoid Namjoon’s knowing gaze as you open the text.

[6:22 PM] Lin: i just ran into taes family

[6:22 PM] Lin: they said hes coming home tonight

[6:23 PM] Lin: will you be here tonight? We didn’t talk about it

You purse your lips.

[6:25 PM] You: sorry, i should have called you. I know you’re working so i wasn’t planning on coming home

[6:26 PM] Lin: oh. Are you going to be alone?

You type the start of an answer - “no, staying with my -” and pause, looking over at Namjoon.

“Joon?” you ask, and he looks at you, surprised. “I don’t know - I mean - Should I say we’re -?”

He leans to read over your shoulder, smiling when he sees “with my -” and your cursor waiting patiently for you to finish the thought. Your what? Friend? Roommate?

You glance up at him, feeling your face flush. “Do I say boyfriend?” you finally ask in a whisper.

His smile almost splits his face. “Is that what I should tell my mom?” he counters, his own phone in his hand.

You grin at him. “I will if you will,” you tease.

His smile turns cocky. “At the same time, then?”

[6:31 PM] You: no, staying with my boyfriend’s family

[6:34 PM] Lin: your WHAT?????????

Namjoon brings his phone to his ear, still smiling at you. When someone picks up, he says, “Eomma? Listen, I know it’s last minute - my girlfriend will be alone for the holidays, would it be okay if she came home with me instead?”

On the other end of the line there’s a series of unintelligible shrieks, and Namjoon’s playful smile only grows. “Yah, I know, I know, I’m sorry!” he laughs. “You’ll meet her! I know! I’m sorry!”

You giggle quietly.

“No, no, Eomma, you don’t need a gift for her, just send us home with leftovers, that’s more than enough,” he says, eyes widening. “It’s last-minute for her, too, no one knew about this ahead of time. It’s okay. No, the guest room is perfect. Eomma, the guest room is fine. Let me talk to - Dad, hi.”

Giving him a reassuring pat on the knee, you stand, taking the folded laundry with you.

–

You’re essentially packed, your suitcase closed but still unzipped on top of your bed when Namjoon sticks his head in the door, that playful, up-to-no-good smirk on his face.

“What?” you ask him, smiling. It’s contagious, you can’t help it.

“Yoongi and Hoseok want to know if my girlfriend will come get a beer with us tonight,” he says, his smile growing sideways.

You laugh. “News travels fast.”

He gives a sheepish chuckle. “I tell those two everything. I can’t function without them.”

You eye him suspiciously. “Is this going to be an interrogation?”

He considers this. “Probably,” he admits. “But I’ll keep them in check. They’re just… protective. Especially after the Elyse debacle.”

You sigh. “You’re asking me to handle the best friend interrogation and meeting your parents all in the span of twelve hours, you realize that, right?”

Namjoon’s face falls a little. “You’re right,” he says. “Sorry. It’s okay - I’ll go by myself tonight -.”

“No, I want to go,” you say quickly, holding up a hand to stop his backpedaling. “I’m just saying. I think you owe me some cookies or something.”

His smile returns, tentative. “Let’s start with I’ll buy your beer tonight,” he jokes.

“Deal,” you tell him, but when you find yourself on a sticky barstool in a mostly dark hole-in-the-wall, a pitcher deep with the three guys, you’re wishing you’d demanded cookies after all.

Hoseok gets up to get a second pitcher, and Yoongi leans forward on his elbows, eyeing you carefully.

Here we go, you think. Namjoon shoots you an apologetic look and you shrug him off.

“So, it’s official now, huh?” Yoongi asks, voice a touch too casual.

“Apparently,” you say dryly, eyes on Namjoon. He’s kicking at Yoongi under the table, as subtle as an elephant.

Hoseok returns, carefully placing the new pitcher of beer on the center of the table. Namjoon reaches desperately for a refill.

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, eyes still on you, calculating. “You don’t want to be with Taehyung?”

“Hyung!” Namjoon protests, spluttering over his beer. Beside him, Hoseok frowns and murmurs Yoongi’s name reprimandingly.

You will yourself to stay calm, not to get defensive. “I don’t,” you say evenly. You hope the truth of it will be enough.

“You did though,” Yoongi points out.

“Hyung!” Namjoon barks a second time, starting to actually look pissed now.

But it’s a fair point. And Namjoon has never once through this whole thing asked you to explain yourself, has never asked you to defend or examine the way your feelings have changed since he met you in August.

So maybe he deserves to hear this answer, you think.

“Yeah,” you say, because it’s true. Yoongi’s entire demeanor changes with this admission - like he’d expected you to lie, or deflect. Like he’s ready to take you way more seriously now that he knows you’re willing to be honest.

You rub your hands down the tops of your thighs, trying to dispel the sweat collecting on your palms. “I guess I learned…” you say, thinking as you speak slowly, “I know that Taehyung loves me, but… I didn’t have anything to compare it to, before. I had never felt anything for or… received love from anyone else. I had nothing to put his… fragmented version of loving me into perspective.”

“Yah, you writing people are so well-spoken,” Hoseok sighs over his beer. Namjoon glares daggers at him.

Yoongi presses forward. “But now?”

You give Namjoon a tiny smile across the table. “Honestly… now I’m not sure how I could have ever been so wrong,” you say to him, not to Yoongi. You know he needs to know.

Saturday December 23rd

“Explain to me why I’m nervous,” you complain, your foot bouncing as the countryside rolls past the train’s window outside.

Namjoon smiles at you indulgently, and then places a large hand over your knee to quell the bouncing. “You’ll be fine.”

“I’m scared out of my mind.”

“So what you’re saying is, this is a bad time to tell you that my parents hated Elyse?”

Your blood runs cold. “They what? You’re fucking with me, right?”

He grimaces. “Unfortunately, no. I mean, they were never rude to her. They just… never warmed up. Each time we’d fight and get back together, my mom… well, she made sure I knew how she felt about it.”

“Great,” you say dourly, eyeing the window.

He gives your knee a squeeze. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

You’re a jumble of nerves for the rest of the ride.

When the train slows to a stop in Namjoon’s hometown, he leads you by the hand down the steps and out into the cold.

“That’s my dad’s car,” he says, pointing to a dark green sedan. “You ready?”

“No,” you joke, but you follow him towards the car, hoisting your duffle bag higher on your shoulder as you go.

Namjoon’s father exits the vehicle and comes around to hug his son; it hurts to watch, for some reason. Something inside you aches at it.

When he turns his attention to you, you greet him respectfully, and then Namjoon helps move your duffle bag into the car.

The drive to the house from the train station is quick - if it weren’t December and carrying luggage it would be walkable. Inside, Namjoon hugs his mother as well, towering over her. You greet her formally, and she gives you a tight-lipped smile, welcoming you to their home.

“Thank you for letting me join Namjoon here for Christmas,” you say, glancing sideways at him for reassurance. “I know it was last-minute.”

“No one should be alone for Christmas,” she tells you, her voice soft and even, and Namjoon squeezes your arm affectionately. “May I show you the guest room?”

You follow them both through the house and to a small room with a narrow single bed, a nightstand, and a small chest of drawers. In the corner, in a beam of morning sunlight, is a tall, leafy plant. This makes you smile; it feels like Namjoon’s touch.

“How long are you staying?” Mrs. Kim directs this question at her son, and you turn to look at him as you place your duffle bag on the end of the bed.

Namjoon hums, considering. “I’m not sure yet,” he tells her, leaning comfortably against the doorframe. “We’d planned for the 27th, but I was looking at the weather forecast while we were on the train and there’s a storm coming through. We might have to try and get back before that, so maybe the 26th. We can play it by ear.”

She shakes her head, swats playfully at his elbow. “You know I’m no good at spontaneous decisions,” she chides.

“We’ll keep an eye on the weather and figure out the plan,” he soothes.

She turns back to you, casting a playfully sour look at Namjoon over her shoulder as she does. “If you want to use the drawers for your clothes, you can,” she tells you. “The bathroom is straight across.”

“Got it,” you say, trying to sound breezy and cheerful. “Thank you again for taking me in. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

She nods at you, smiling. “I’ll let you get settled in,” she says, and brushes past Namjoon on her way back down the narrow hallway.

His gaze on you is suddenly heavy.

“What?” you ask.

He opens his mouth to speak, then looks over his shoulder, seems to think better of it. “Want to go for a walk?” he asks instead. “I have a place I’d kind of like to show you.”

Everything inside you that’s been held tight like a breath melts into something soft. “Okay,” you tell him, reaching for your coat, which is shoved under your duffle bag on the bed. “Let’s go.”

As you pass back through the kitchen, Mr. Kim is seated at the table, buried in an open newspaper. A cup of coffee sits, untouched, near his elbow. Mrs. Kim stands on a step-stool, searching a high cabinet for something, muttering under her breath.

“We’re going to walk down to the pond,” Namjoon says. His father lowers the newspaper and smiles at him a little absently. “Gotta show off the geese.”

He steps out the kitchen door that leads to a sloping backyard and you follow. Once you’re halfway across the yard he reaches back for your hand, not turning to watch you take it.

“Geese, huh?” you ask.

He turns to grin at you. “It’s my favorite place. Come on, keep up.”

“We don’t all have long legs like yours!” you protest. At the end of the property, there’s a small space between two hedges, the grass in the gap long worn away by frequent foot-traffic, only dirt remaining. He leads you through the gap and down the rest of the hill, where you can see the ink-dark water of a still pond waiting below.

When you arrive at the water’s edge, you notice that there is - as promised - an entire flock of geese, as well as a large swan.

“I heard swans can be nasty,” you say, a little apprehensive.

Namjoon puts his arm around you, looking out over the water. “Ah, that’s Clarence. He won’t mess with you. The geese might, though, especially when their babies are around.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Clarence? You named the swan?”

He laughs, the sound low and melodic, warm and welcoming. “He’s been around for a few years. We have an understanding.”

This startles a giggle out of you, and Namjoon looks down at you, smiling.

“I love having you here,” he admits fondly. “This is my favorite place - I’d come here to think, to read, to write. Sometimes, to clear my head.”

“You like to go outside when you’ve got shit going on,” you agree.

“There’s a Welsh saying,” he says seriously, “that means to kind of get your head on straight, to sort your thoughts out. But when you translate the words literally, they say to return to my trees. That always spoke to me.”

“Wow,” you say lightly, running the words through your mind again. “To return to my trees. I like that.”

He stands quietly next to you for a minute, both of you watching Clarence and his geese friends cross the pond at a snail’s pace.

“You know what I like about you?” he finally says, as a small breeze picks up enough to rustle his hair, to blow yours around your face. “I can say shit like that to you and you take me seriously. I’ve never had anybody like that in my life before - not even with my friends.”

You get it - you never really had that, either. You smile up at him. “I like pretty words.”

His smile goes crooked for a second. “I like pretty words and pretty girls.” He gives you a squeeze.

“What a line!” you laugh, but you can feel your face flushing. “Did you look that one up on the internet?”

He laughs too. “I was inspired, what can I say?”

You lapse into comfortable silence again, watching the edge of the dark water lap at the muddy shore. “Can I say something?” you ask after a minute, and Namjoon looks down at you, surprised.

“Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”

You think for a second about what you want to say - the points you want to hit, how you want to word it.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” you start slowly, “that I see and appreciate how patient you’ve been. How understanding.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide and he actually leans away from you a little, like he wants to look at you better. “What?” he asks hollowly.

“Seriously,” you insist. “When it comes to everything between us, you’ve been in a shitty position from day one. You never held it against me, never got mad, never made me feel like I wasn’t… worth wanting. You never demanded anything of me - not an explanation, not an answer. You just… stayed by my side and let me figure it out. And I… it’s not lost on me that that’s extremely fucking rare. That’s all.”

Namjoon’s chin is jutting a little, his jaw clenched. He keeps his eyes on the pond and clears his throat. When he speaks, his voice is a little rough.

“Well, uh,” he says, then coughs to clear his throat. “Thanks for saying that. It’s all really… not that big of a deal.”

You lean against him, and he squeezes your shoulder.

“It is,” you whisper. “I know you don’t recognize it… but, it really is.”

–

Back inside, you somehow find yourself in a situation where you are way out of your depth: alone in the kitchen with Mrs. Kim.

Namjoon told you he’d be right back and went to - you assume - talk to his dad in the other room, and here you are.

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to talk to mothers. You don’t know how kitchens work.

Mrs. Kim saves you from yourself by placing a large, yellow onion in your hand. “Will you chop this while I start the –”

You don’t even hear the end of the question over the panicked rush of white noise in your ears. You hold the onion like it might explode in your hand.

Her back is to you as she pulls out a cutting board from a lower cabinet. When she turns and sees you standing there like you’re holding a grenade, she freezes.

“You certainly don’t have to if you don’t want to –” she backtracks quickly.

“The thing is,” you say, face flushing, “I don’t… exactly… know how.”

The sigh of disappointment she lets out is almost comical. You cringe, feeling terrible, when she says, “Aish, no wonder my son likes you - you two are just the same.”

This makes you laugh out loud, and the tension breaks just like that. With a playfully chastising look, she takes the onion back from you, placing it on the cutting board. Then she cuts it in half and shows you how you’re meant to slice it before passing you the knife.

She watches carefully as you slowly and clumsily try to mirror her movements with the blade. And even though you’re slow and clumsy, she still smiles at you and says, “Very good.”

“I never really had the chance to learn,” you try to explain, your eyes on what you’re doing. “My, um, my parents passed away when I was really young. And my grandmother… she didn’t ask me to help, she didn’t try to teach me. I think because… she wanted to let me be just a kid in as many ways as I still could. But, yknow. Now I’m an adult who can’t cook.”

You’re not sure what reaction you expect from her, but all she does is hum quietly, an affirming, understanding listening noise, and lean just a little closer over your shoulder to watch the knife.

You’re about to say something else - anything, just to move on from the moment - when she speaks.

“His last girlfriend was a genius in the kitchen.” She cocks her head to the side sharply, almost as if flicking away an annoying bug. “But she certainly had her failings outside of it.”

Elyse. You’re suddenly picturing her here, at this counter, making her way effortlessly around the kitchen.

Mrs. Kim moves beside you, turning the sink on and grabbing a colander to wash some more vegetables. You keep working slowly on the onion, keeping your eyes on your fingers.

She looks sideways at you as she rinses whatever she’s holding. “All I’m saying is, sometimes change is good. And it’s never too late to learn,” she tells you.

Change. Like Namjoon letting go of his past. Like you letting go of yours.

“He told me you and Mr. Kim didn’t like her,” you admit, pushing the onion to the side and setting down the knife, ready for new instructions.

Mrs. Kim shakes her head, exasperated. “What did he say that to you for? No wonder you’re nervous. For such a smart boy, he just has no sense.”

You smile and hurry to defend him. “I think he just wanted me to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” she grouses. “We liked her fine until she broke his heart. We’ll like you that long, too.”

“I don’t think I ever could,” you say quietly.

Next to you, she softens. She touches your hand for just a second in a gesture that feels somehow like gratitude, and then removes it to plop whatever she just washed onto your cutting board.

“Chop,” she instructs. She watches, reaching over once to adjust your hold on the knife, then nodding in satisfaction when you carry on correctly. Her eyes on your hands, she asks, “So your grandmother raised you? Where did you grow up?”

You tell her - about your hometown, about your Grandmother’s strict upbringing and how it led into Lin’s barely-there parenting. She listens as she works, eventually moving over to the stove and starting the base of the sauce while you finish peeling and chopping the pile she’s left for you to handle.

“So, your aunt is working for Christmas?” she asks, stirring as you gently add the onion to the sauce when prompted.

“Yes, and she works nights and sleeps days,” you explain. “So I decided to just stay home.”

“You wouldn’t have seen her at all?” she asks, no bite or judgment to the question. Just asking. “Even Christmas Eve, or the day after?”

You think about this. In all honesty, you would have been home and awake with Lin for at least some of break. But you two didn’t really spend time together, never had. Plus it would have meant asking Taehyung for a ride, since he brought you to campus back in late August, and he isn’t currently speaking to you.

“Maybe in passing,” you say, which isn’t entirely true. But suddenly, you feel weirdly guilty - like you’ve done something wrong to Lin by leaving her alone for the holiday.

“That’s a shame,” she says. “Here, come stir this.”

As you finish the meal together, she asks you more questions - mostly about school and your major. It’s nice - calming. You feel like this is a place you could get used to.

“I think it’s good for him to have found another writer,” she muses. “Sometimes our Namjoon just has his head in the clouds. It’ll be nice for him to have someone who… understands.”

“Yeah,” you say, continuing to stir, as directed. “That’s nice for me, too.”

<- Prev || Next ->

what are we thinking?! am i in less trouble or more compared to last chapter? lol

252 notes · View notes