me? have a boyfriend? no, i try to focus on the more important things in life
like crying over character development
If it’s good, it will become official.
LAST ONE FOR NOW (technically Elfy gave me five but I’ve got nothing for the awkward meeting one sorry dear)
Prompt: Dinadan likes cracking gay jokes at Terence and Gawain. Terence finally understands them.
He likes making the jokes because he knows they don’t love each other that way, to be honest. Gawain has a mistress somewhere, he’s sure, because no man who defends women with such ferocity doesn’t have a lady love of some kind, and he assumes, having never seen Terence show interest in anyone, that Terence is more like himself and just doesn’t care for romantic attachments. If he thought they were in love, he wouldn’t joke about it, because he didn’t marry the love of his life, what right does he have to judge how people make themselves happy?
But they’re funny because he knows they’re not true, and because neither Gawain nor his squire ever understood them. He snickers and hands them one bedroll while out on a hunt, and Terence just looks confused and asks for another. He mutters something about starting rumors when the two leave on yet another private quest, but neither of them hear him. He finds a rather interesting collection of floral headwear in Terence’s room one night at a party and has ammunition for weeks afterward. Sure, sometimes it’s disappointing to have your finest jokes go completely unnoticed, but other people get them, and that’s always amusing to watch.
Until Dinadan is helping prepare for a feast with Gawain and squire and a few ladies of the court. Well, helping isn’t a great word. He’s sitting on a table strumming his guitern and singing baudy songs while the women and servingmaids do most of the actual work, with Gawain and Terence there to do heavy lifting and deter unwanted leering from menservants and less scrupulous squires. The two set down a heavy stone chair at Dinadan’s table and come together to continue a conversation they’ve been having for a while. Something about a stag hunt. “Calling each other dear in public, then, are you?” he says, waggling his eyebrows as he plays.
Gawain gets it first. He grins, shrugs, wraps his arm around Terence’s shoulders, and kisses the squire’s cheek, winking at a short, freckled lady nearby who begins laughing. Dinadan’s mouth drops and his eyes widen in complete glee. "Milord," Terence says, attempting to shoulder out of the knight’s grip.
Then Dinadan wolf-whistles at the two of them and Terence knows. His face crumples up in exasperated laughter and he shoves Gawain away, turning bright red. "Milord," he growls, trying to decide whether to be embarrassed or frustrated or amused. Gawain’s laughing at him, and Dinadan feels like Christmas came early, because few people play along when he jokes at their expense.
"You’ll pay for that later," Terence says, trying to look somewhat serious. Dinadan chokes and Gawain just smiles. "I know where you sleep, you know." Dinadan chokes back a howl of laughter and Gawain’s chuckling now, and the lady behind Terence is biting her knuckle to stop giggling. Terence realizes what he just said and turns darker. “I mean—I just—I hate you all."
He turns on his heel to stomp out of the hall. “Going to wear a tiara to the feast too, Squire Terence?” Dinadan manages to squeak out. Gawain and the lady stop trying to contain their mirth. Terence’s head ducks, the back of his neck turning even redder.
whatever you say, dear
in the mess of applications for grad school, grad school scholarships, grad school tests, and fellowships, and asking for letters of recommendation and letters of affiliation and all the rest, I sometimes just want to grab my hair and scream
and why mONEY EVERYTHING IS SO FRIGGIN EXPENSIVE