#and I'm happy that this means we might see him more. I felt very uncomfortable (unsafe tbh) when she was around.

[running-in-the-dark]

.

[pencil-n-pen]

I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆

previous | kofi | masterlist

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

₊ ⊹

I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.

-mirrorball, taylor swift

₊ ⊹

summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again

cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap

a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!

read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)

this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Spencer is a really good boyfriend.

Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.

He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.

He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.

But you still worry.

All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.

“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”

A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”

The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”

“More like uptight.”

“Dad—“

“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”

Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.

You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“

“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”

(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)

Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."

You don't dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."

"It's not funny."

"Don't be like that--"

"Goodbye."

You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.

The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.

Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.

But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.

You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.

Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.

You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.

So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.

This, of course, is easier said than done.

It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.

But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.

But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.

You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.

"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."

"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."

He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.

It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?

When is it all going to end?

--

Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.

JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."

That little voice comes back.

Too much too much too much too much too much--

"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.

JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."

You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.

Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.

You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.

Be better. Try harder.

You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.

--

You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.

"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"

A little stab of ice in your stomach.

"I don't know. I think it's nice."

"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."

You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.

A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.

--

The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—

That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.

That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.

But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?

--

You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.

It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.

You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.

You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.

--

The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.

You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.

It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.

He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.

Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—

"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"

"Yes?" You croak.

His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.

Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.

He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.

You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.

"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."

He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."

"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"

You freeze. "What do you mean?"

He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.

"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."

Your finger's twitch at your sides.

His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."

He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.

Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.

The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.

"My parents think you're going to leave me."

Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"

"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."

"But that's not your fault."

You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"

You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.

I'm not easy to love.

"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."

"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."

He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"

You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"

"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."

His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."

He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."

The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.

"Maybe."

"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"

Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"

A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."

That makes you look up. "Really?"

He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."

"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"

"When did you go to the vet's—"

"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.

"What do I do now?"

"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."

"What?"

You're so close your breaths are mingling.

"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."

"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."

His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.

"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."

You laugh. "I do not swoon."

"You will."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.

It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.

--

Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.

He also starts needing you a bit... louder.

It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.

Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Either finished it or it can be done later."

You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.

He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.

"Your hair smells good."

"Like what?"

"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."

You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.

"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"

"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."

He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.

--

Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.

You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.

"You wanna know something cool?"

"You know it,"

"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."

"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"

"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."

"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."

"Should we get dinner afterwards?"

"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

--

Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.

You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.

He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.

"Should I move?"

"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."

Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.

--

It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the teeth, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the T.V.

You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.

"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.

And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.

And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.

"I love you."

He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

taglist: @topsecret101 @slowdownpal @leeknowpegger @sunbl3achedfly @hiireadstuff @paige0103 @private190104 @beautyb1ade @coraline-jones353 @pleasenter-sandman @sttvrdustt @gluchie @thomasintheshadows @dessamira1001 @bbleeeeh @hufflely-puffly @bippityboppityboob1tch @buggys-space @redxfangirl @liauchiha147 @dreaming-potato @meandyoulollz @jobrosimp

[formulauno98]

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Ten / Thursday Evening, Four Months Post-Break-Up - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Angst!!! 🌶 This one is a little spicy. 18+ only. If you're uncomfortable with the idea of two-timing don't read this.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

I'm sorry this chapter took forever to post, life got very busy and some of you may have seen that I had someone plagiarising my work on Wattpad and was NOT happy. I got it taken down and finally felt ready to finish this bad boy.

There will be one more chapter coming up shortly, aptly named Chalet Girl Winter. Hope you like it and thank you to everyone who reported the person who was stealing my work 🫶🏽

THURSDAY EVENING, FOUR MONTHS POST-BREAK-UP

George's alcohol-glazed eyes bore into yours in a way that made you almost uncomfortable. Surely he did not mean what he just said and was just drunk? Before you could determine an appropriate response, your door buzzed for the second time that evening. Your heart leapt to your throat, knowing exactly who it was. 

Toto.

“Who’s that?” asked George, his tone suspicious.

“Well…” you stumbled over your words, “I was trying to tell you. It’s Toto….”

George’s expression shifted to horror as he groaned.  “Amazing,” he muttered. “Just what I need. I’ll go, forget what I said.”

Your eyes softened, “George…” Before you could finish your sentence, the buzz came again, Toto was obviously growing impatient. “I better get that,” you said, George huffing in response.

You stood there in awkward silence, George glowering as he knew Toto was on his way up and there was no escaping seeing him. Fortunately, the pair of you didn’t stand there long before there was a knock on your door. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened it to reveal Toto standing there, handsome as ever, grinning, holding an impressive bouquet, even larger than the one George had brought.

“Hi,” he said, his smile faltering as he stepped inside and clocked George standing in the hallway behind you, "Hi George, what’s going on here?"

George turned to face Toto, his face now filled with rage, "Of course, you’re here" he spat. "You just can't stay away, can you?"

"George, calm down, Toto, come in," you said, Toto looking shocked as he stepped inside. You quickly closed the door, not wanting your neighbours to overhear the drama unfolding, stepping between the two men. 

"I don’t think you’re in a position to lecture me," George snapped, his voice rising as he stepped forward, squaring up to Toto over your shoulder. "Why do you think you can just come here and replace me? Steal my girlfriend?"

Toto, to his credit, remained calm, handing you the bouquet he’d been holding, and moving out in front of you, his hands now raised in a placating gesture as he faced the younger man. "George, I understand you're upset. But this isn’t helping anybody."

"Upset? You don’t know the half of it," George shot back. "You think you can just waltz in here with your yacht, all tall, dark and handsome and your big flowers and your charm and…"

"George," Toto interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "Please, I didn’t come here to argue."

The tension in the hallway was palpable and you could see George's anger teetering on the edge. You stepped from behind Toto and placed your free hand on his arm, trying to soothe him. "George, please, it’s been months."

For a moment, you thought George might explode, but then he seemed to deflate, the fight going out of him. "I just... I just wanted to fix things," he mumbled.

“There’s nothing to fix,” you said, looking at the ground as you felt your eyes tearing up. “I’m sorry but I think you should go,”

George glanced back at you, his eyes filled with hurt. "I just don’t understand why things had to end this way. Why him? Of all people?"

"It’s complicated," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "We both deserve to be happy and I think we both know that it wasn’t working between us anymore."

Toto stepped forward, his voice calm and reassuring as he placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. "George, it's clear you still care but right now, the best thing you can do is take care of yourself."

George looked between you and Toto, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Toto nodded and pulled out his phone. "My driver just left, let me message him and he’ll take you home.”

“Okay.” said George, looking at you wistfully, “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you watched George shuffle towards the door as Toto typed out a text. You turned to face your former boyfriend, "George, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I hope you find someone who makes you happy."

He gave you a sad smile. "Yeah, me too." With a glance back towards Toto, he added, "Take care of her."

Toto nodded. "I will.”

Then, much to your surprise,  George leant in to hug the older man, perhaps a sign that the journey to forgiveness had begun. “Thanks, boss,” he said.

Toto shot you a look of shock over George’s shoulder, somewhat awkwardly patting him on the back. “I’m sorry for everything.” he said, his deep voice thick with emotion, “I really am.”

George seemed placated by Toto’s words and stepped back from the embrace, his eyes red, filled with emotions. “I appreciate that," he said quietly, casting one last look at you. "I’m sorry I interrupted your evening, I guess I should get going.”

"Don’t be silly. I know it’s weird but you’ll always be welcome here, any time," you replied softly.

“Thank you,” said George, turning to Toto. “Did you say your guy will be here soon? I can wait downstairs and be out of your way.”

“Honestly, take your time,” you said, secretly willing Toto’s driver to arrive asap. As if by magic, Toto’s phone buzzed.

“He’s downstairs,” said Toto, clearly sharing your sentiments as you exchanged a look of relief.

“Thanks, Toto.” said George, “See you guys around.”

As you murmured your goodbyes and George walked out your door, you were floored by the evening’s events. Did George really still love you or was it just the drink talking? If Toto hadn’t come over, what would have happened?

Your mind was racing as you closed the door behind him and Toto immediately pulled you into a comforting embrace, his strong arms enveloping you, putting your mind at ease.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, feeling the weight of the evening slowly lifting. "I am now. Thank you. I’m sorry about that, it’s not been easy. I bumped into George when I was out earlier and I guess he hit the pub afterwards."

Toto gently rubbed your lower back, soothing your concerns, "No need to apologise, it’s not your fault. I think unfortunately this was always going to happen. He has been behaving strangely with me all season.”

“How come you never said anything?” you asked, leaning into Toto’s chest, “It’s less than ideal.”

“Life is often less than ideal. But we deal with it and move on.” Toto said, pressing a kiss to to top of your head, “How about we get some food and relax? We can take your mind off things."

"That sounds perfect," you replied, “And thank you for these, they’re beautiful,” you added, holding up the huge bouquet Toto had handed to you. 

Toto’s goofy grin had returned, “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman. Although I did picture myself giving them to you in different circumstances.”

You laughed as you made your way through to the kitchen to find a vase for them, gesturing for Toto to follow. “You mean to say that you didn’t envisage my ex being here?”

Toto laughed in return, “Not exactly, I can’t blame the guy though. I wouldn’t want to lose you.”

Surprised by Toto’s admission you stopped in your tracks, “Well don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Toto quirked an eyebrow as you set about arranging both his bouquets and the roses from George in two vases, struggling to fit them in.

“Did George bring you those?” asked Toto, sidling up to the kitchen island.

“Yep,” you said, feeling slightly guilty, “I don’t want to waste them.”

“Of course,” said Toto, smirking slightly as he clocked how much larger his bouquet was.

“Sorry, I’m being the worst hostess, I got some wine out and then George completely distracted me. Would you like some?” you asked, suddenly flustered by Toto’s presence in your kitchen.

“Relax,” said Toto, stepping nearer to you, reaching around to hold your hip from behind as you arranged the flowers, kissing your neck softly, “I will pour us the wine.”

Melting into the tall Austrian, you finished arranging the flowers and turned to face him, “Sorry, I let the stress get to me. I was kind of surprised when you said you were nearby and then George coming over completely blindsided me.”

“Don’t be silly and stop saying sorry” Toto said, gently caressing the side of your face, “I should be one saying sorry if I took you by surprise. I wanted to see you. I had planned to take you out to dinner but maybe a quiet night in is better tonight?”

“A quiet night sounds wonderful,” you said, stretching up to kiss him, finally starting to calm down from your stressful altercation. It was amazing how quickly you had started to feel comfortable with Toto.

“So this is where you live?” asked Toto, pulling away and starting to take in his surroundings for the first time. Your apartment was small but cosy and somehow Toto’s tall frame looked larger than life in the tight space of your kitchen, almost as if he didn’t belong.

“Yes,” you said, feeling awkward as Toto surveyed your domain. “My home for the last four years. I know it’s nothing compared to your yacht even but…”

Toto quickly interrupted you, leaning over to kiss you once more before pouring out two generous glasses of wine. “Stop it. This place is perfect. It’s you and that’s what makes it perfect.”

You chuckled, knowing he was being polite and was used to much grander surroundings, "Thanks. I’ve tried my best!"

Toto finished pouring and handed a glass to you. "To a quiet night in," he toasted, clinking his glass with yours, his eyes crinkling warmly as he smiled at you.

"To a quiet night in," you echoed, taking a sip and feeling the tension of the evening finally begin to melt away.

FRIDAY MORNING

As your eyes fluttered open, crisp Winter sunlight started to spill through the curtains and you were finally content. Toto had kept a firm grip around your waist all night and waking up in his strong arms was bliss. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest pressed up against your back as he slept peacefully.

Having ordered dinner in, spent far too long carefully selecting a film to watch together and then watched it for all of ten minutes before you were all over each other, your quiet night in had taken a wilder turn. Having only had the one time with him on the yacht, you hadn’t known what to expect but Toto had more than delivered. You were sore in the way that you only felt after a night spent fucking, enjoying each other’s company and letting loose for the first time in what felt like forever.

Basking in the post-sex glow, you snuggled closer into Toto before you dropped back off to sleep, knowing that you didn’t have any commitments for the day and could enjoy a lie-in.

– – – 

Rousing from your sleep for the second time that morning, this time was different. Your bed was cold, there was no strong arm cuddling you, Toto was nowhere to be seen and your heart dropped. You hadn’t discussed whether he would stay the night but to wake up and find him missing was somewhat disheartening. Perhaps you’d gotten the wrong idea? Cara and Marion’s words of warning swam around in your head, leaving you wondering.

That was until you heard a clatter coming from the kitchen. Easing yourself out of bed, you fetched your bathrobe, slipped it on and made your way to the source of the noise.

“Morning!” said Toto brightly, turning to face you. He was wearing nothing but boxers and a copious dusting of what looked to be flour.

“Good morning,” you said sleepily, making your way over to him, realising what he was doing. He was making pancake batter. You were floored, in what world does a man who has staff to do everything he could ever dream of wake up and start making pancakes? “This looks interesting.”

Toto looked a little sheepish, bending down to kiss you, coating you with a light sprinkle of flour. “Sorry for the mess, I thought I would surprise you with breakfast in bed and clean up without you seeing.”

“Oh my goodness,” you said, “Don’t worry about that!” You smiled widely at your beau, “I thought you’d left, I’m just happy to see you.”

“Why would I leave?” asked Toto, quirking an eyebrow, “I am not working today, I thought I told you.”

Casting your mind back to the previous night, you suddenly recalled him saying something about having Friday free - you were an idiot for thinking otherwise. “Sorry, my bad,” you said, coming closer to him, placing a hand on his hip as you surveyed the carnage that was your worktop. He’d taken the bowl off of your Kitchenaid but managed to coat most of the worktop and himself in flour. “Have you made pancakes before?”

“Have I made pancakes before?” Toto repeated back to you, aghast, “Who do you think I am? A heathen?”

“Well, it’s not like you were making pancakes every day on the yacht…” you replied sheepishly, hoping he wasn’t insulted.

“That was my holiday, I’m not cooking on holiday, especially not for six guests,” said Toto grinning, “Now that you’re up I can ask, do you want tea or coffee? I know you drink both.”

Grinning that he remembered this small detail, you replied, “Maybe coffee this morning, something kept me awake all night.”

Smirking, Toto turned around to face you, “Sounds like a fun night…”

Returning his look, you leaned up once more to catch his lips with yours, “Indeed it was.”

“Well there’s more where that came from,”  said Toto boldly, his hands starting to caress your hips as he gazed down at you.

“That’s good to hear,” you said, sliding a hand under the waistband of his boxers, stroking his bare hip idly. 

“We have time later, let me finish breakfast, go back to bed and I’ll bring it to you,” said Toto, taking your wandering hand in his.

“No, I can help, honestly,” you said, “How about I make the coffee?”

“Ok.” said Toto, pressing a kiss to your hand before dropping it, “Deal.”

SUNDAY AFTERNOON

By the time Toto had left, he’d spent the best part of the weekend with you, only having left your side to go and grab some fresh clothes, not having planned to stay over. You’d spent a good part of the weekend in bed, making the most of your time together before Toto had to leave for the final race of the season in Abu Dhabi.

Aside from the obvious, you’d also spent time getting to know each other better, exchanging stories about your childhoods, your crazy family members, not to mention your hopes and dreams. Toto was a good listener and you were pleasantly surprised that he even remembered things you’d told him when you’d first gone to explore the cove and sat by the waterfall. 

Life could be strange and surprising sometimes and Toto was certainly turning out to be a man full of surprises. If you could have time-travelled back to the days of you sitting patiently in the garage watching George drive around, your past self would have baulked at the idea that you’d now be so close to his intimidating Team Principal who had never even looked twice at you. You knew that you would never have believed it but stranger things had happened.

SUNDAY AFTERNOON, ONE WEEK LATER

The following weekend you settled down on your sofa, a glass of wine and snacks in hand, to watch the final race of the season. The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Granted, your situation was an odd one, rooting for your ex-boyfriend’s team because your current not-quite boyfriend owned and ran it was a somewhat unusual predicament but you wanted to see how they got on. 

Mercedes weren’t fighting for a driver’s championship but could still do well in the constructors and were competing against Ferrari for second place, something you knew that Toto wanted desperately. It meant more to the team collectively and more to the shareholders.

You’d promised him you’d be watching as you’d waved him off so true to your word, you settled down to watch. As the camera panned around you kept an eye out eagerly for any glimpse of Toto. Searching hungrily for that famous white shirt or tousled dark hair. You knew that the cameras often liked to linger during races as he was particularly emotional for a Team Principal so it would only be a matter of time before he was shown. 

Sure enough, the race had only been running for a few laps when George made a particularly impressive overtake and Toto was shown enthusiastically celebrating. Butterflies started as you took in his dimpled grin, quickly turning to nausea as the camera panned out to show him wrapping his arm around a willowy blonde on his left-hand side. She was statuesque, beautiful and all too close to the man who’d recently stolen your heart. Tears started to form as you saw him flash a handsome smile at her which she returned, leaning into him, their heads close as his hand lingered on her waist.

You were devastated. Of course, Cara and Marion had warned you about Toto’s playboy tendencies but you naively had believed that Toto was not seeing anyone else. How could you have been so foolish? He was just using you and going home to a model-like blonde. In a fit of rage, you turned the TV off. This was clearly your karma for what you had done to George.

– – – 

Having turned your attention to cleaning your flat for the rest of the afternoon, you spent the next few hours dwelling on the cosy image that was now burned into your mind and were livid by the time your phone rang. 

Toto. The name flashed on the screen as you swiped to decline the call. A few minutes later and he rang once more.

By the end of the afternoon you had six missed calls from Toto so after you’d checked where Mercedes had finished (you were relieved to see they had come second in constructors- you weren’t completely heartless after all), you turned your phone off. 

You didn’t want to talk to Toto, you didn’t want to see him. He’d lived up to his reputation and you felt like a fool. What was he playing at, flaunting another woman on screen when he knew you’d be watching? You briefly considered sending a message to Cara as you knew she was at the race and would suitably berate Toto for his cruel behaviour, but you decided against it. It was time to take the high road and ignore him. He was probably out celebrating with the mystery woman anyway.

You didn’t sleep that night, restlessly tossing and turning as the mental picture of Toto’s hand on another woman’s waist lingered in your mind. You knew it was incredibly hypocritical considering the circumstances that you’d gotten together but you were floored by the cruelty of which he’d flaunted another woman when he knew you’d be watching. It was sick and twisted and you were upset at yourself for being so stupid.

MONDAY MORNING

Finally having dropped off the sleep, you were rudely awoken by the buzzer of your door. You groaned as you woke up, your eyes puffy from a night spent crying. It was still dark and checking the time on your clock, you saw it was five o’clock in the morning. There were only two people in the world who would have the audacity to wake you at this hour and you groaned once more, not wanting to see either of them.

The intercom buzzed once again, whoever it was growing impatient. Getting out of bed, you padded along to the hallway to answer the door.

“Hello, can I help you?” you said wearily, the annoyance clear in your tone.

“Is everything okay?” came a deep, heavily accented voice over the speaker. Fuck, it was Toto. Although you hadn’t wanted to see George, he was easier to deal with and get rid of.

“You tell me,” you said indignantly, yawning.

“Can I come up?” asked Toto, “I am sorry if I woke you, I was worried when I didn’t hear from you.”

Knowing the man as you did, you knew he was persistent so reluctantly you pushed the key button and answered tetchily, “Sure, come up.”

“Have…” Toto began answering but you cut off the intercom, waiting to see how he’d explain himself face-to-face.

Knowing he was on his way up, you steeled yourself and hurriedly tried to flatten your bed hair in the hallway mirror as you caught sight of yourself looking like a wreck. You were fighting a losing battle but didn’t have time to do more as a knock landed on your door.

Cracking the door open you were surprised to see that Toto was still wearing his work uniform, he must have come straight from Abu Dhabi. He looked equally as shattered as you felt and it somehow comforted you to know that Mr Perfect was not always so. His normally pristine white shirt was rumpled and his hair was nothing short of a complete mess.

“Thank goodness,” he said, pushing the door wider and coming towards you, trying to pull you into an embrace.

“Why?” you said, annoyed at his pretences and turning away from his arms.

Looking hurt at your rejection, his brow furrowed, “I thought something bad had happened. I was trying to call and it kept not working, I couldn’t leave a voicemail. I came straight from the track.” He gestured down at his clothes, “Is everything okay?”

It was your turn to furrow your brow, annoyed that he was not catching on. “No. It’s not. Why would you tell me to watch the race and then do what you did? Rub it in my face.”

“Huh?” he asked, running his hand through his hair as he often did when he was nervous. It was a tick that you’d noticed. “What do you mean? What did I do?”

“Wow.” you said, “The camera panned to you… and your girlfriend.”

“Huh?” he said, still confused. “What girlfriend?”

“The tall blonde you were draping yourself all over. Rub it in my face why don’t you…” 

Toto cut you off, “My sister?”

Floored by this, your face dropped. “Your sister?”

“Yes my sister,” said Toto, his expression darkening as he realised what you were accusing him of.

An awkward silence crept in and you were not sure how to respond. In hindsight, you had been quick to jump to conclusions. Perhaps driven by guilt over the way you’d handled things with George, you jumped to think the worst of Toto.

“This is why you ignored my calls?” asked Toto, looking thunderous, “Because you thought my sister was my girlfriend?”

Feeling smaller by the minute you shrunk back towards the wall, “I suppose.” you mumbed, “Look, I’m sorry, I leapt to conclusions.”

“You could say that,” said Toto, folding his arms, “I was worried about you, I thought something bad had happened and all this time you were sitting there thinking the worst of me?" His voice was thick with disbelief. "You didn't think to ask me before shutting me out?". His dark eyes bore into yours and you could feel the weight of your accusation.

You swallowed hard, the realization of your mistake sinking in like a stone. "I’m sorry," you said, "It’s just that… I’ve been burned before and I guess I panicked."

Toto's expression softened, his anger giving way to concern as he stepped closer. "I understand that you're scared, but I’m not George, and I'm certainly not the kind of man who would play games with you. I’m insulted that you would think I would do something like that."

You winced at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. “I just… I didn’t know what to think. It all felt too good to be true."

Toto sighed, reaching out to cup your face in his hands, his touch gentle despite the tension in the air. "I’m not perfect, but I’m not going to lie to you. If I ever make you feel uncomfortable or unsure, I want you to tell me, be direct."

Feeling like a fool, you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. "Direct, I can do that," you whispered, your voice cracking, leaning into his touch. “Why did you come back? You should be out celebrating!”

A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "So you did watch the race?" he murmured, his lips lingering against your skin. "Because I care about you, more than you know."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling, "Of course I did, I care more than you know too," you admitted.

Toto's smile grew and he leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, reassuring kiss. The tension between you melted away as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened and when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Toto looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know," he said, his voice low and husky, "there’s a way we could put this little, let’s say, misunderstanding behind us."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what might that be?"

He grinned, a wicked smile that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "I have some ideas.”

You nodded eagerly, all thoughts of your earlier insecurities forgotten as he swept you off your feet and carried you to the bedroom.

– – – 

Later that morning, as you lay tangled in the sheets, your head resting on Toto’s bare chest, he broke the comfortable silence. "You know," he began, his voice a soothing rumble beneath you, "I have been thinking. How would you feel about coming skiing with me next week? I have a chalet and I always invite people at the beginning of the Winter break."

You looked up at him, enchanted by the thought of a snowy getaway. "That sounds amazing," you said, smiling. "But… when you say people, who do you mean?"

Toto hesitated for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Well, normally friends from the team. James, John, some of the other engineers. George also mentioned that he might be free… I thought I’d ask if you would be okay with him joining us."

The mention of George sent a ripple of unease through you, but you quickly pushed it aside. If Toto was willing to include him, it was only fair for you to try to be okay with it too. "I suppose," you said cautiously. "I’ll drop him a text and see how he feels about it. If it’s easier just take him this time."

Toto nodded, "That’s fair."

"I’ll text him now and see what he says," you said, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and typing out a quick message, asking how he felt about the idea. To your surprise, his reply came almost instantly.

Yeah, that's fine. Toto asked me the other day. I'll be bringing someone too, so it should be fun.

You stared at the message, your heart sinking slightly. George bringing someone else was entirely reasonable, but it still stung more than you cared to admit. He’d been busy declaring his love for you just one week ago and now he was bringing someone for a weekend away?

"Is everything okay?" Toto asked, noticing the change in your expression.

You nodded, though the feeling lingered. "Yeah, he said it's fine. He's bringing someone too."

Toto's eyes softened as he sighed, "I know. He already asked me. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"Yes, just a little surprised after his outburst the other week," you said, still wondering what that had been about if he was already seeing someone new.

“I was too.” said Toto, his brow furrowed, “But I know him, he overthinks, it will be good for him.”

At that, you managed a small smile. "I think it will be good for all of us. It's time to start new chapters, right?"

Toto studied your face for a moment, then nodded, pulling you close again. "Agreed," he said, kissing the top of your head.

FRIDAY MORNING, ONE WEEK LATER

The week leading up to your ski trip had flown by and anxiety lingered at the back of your mind. Trying to take the high road once more, you kept reminding yourself of the progress you'd made. George’s last drunken visit had given you a strange sense of closure and Toto’s less than happy reaction towards your unwarranted accusations had reassured you that he was somewhat of a realist. A few days away should do you all the world of good.

As you found yourself in a sleek black car with Toto on the way to the airport, the scenery blurring by, your thoughts drifted to the upcoming weekend. The air between you and Toto was comfortable, though the unspoken tension of the past week still hovered.

Toto reached over, squeezing your hand as if sensing your unease. "We'll have a great time," he said, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that made you believe him.

You smiled, squeezing his hand back. "I know we will."

Taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party @noooway555 @annewithaneofthegreengable  @xoscar03 @totowolfffcheco @justzluv @kravitzwhore @bborra @a-beaverhausen@amandadesantasworld @formulaal

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

So you want to write about a Jewish Ed Teach - a quick guide to writing a Jewish man of color, by a Jewish moc

Given Taika Waititi is Jewish, I am always so happy when I see fanfic authors writing about Ed being Jewish! We need more Jewish poc rep and I'm always happy to see it. That being said, I've also seen a lot of misunderstandings, so I wanted to to write up a few quick guidelines.

Disclaimer: I'm just one Jew with an opinion, and this is based on my own experiences! I'd love if other Jews, especially other Jews of color, in the fandom would like to chime in with their thoughts as well!

It is possible to be a Jewish athiest! Judaism is membership in a people, and belief in g-d is not required (and, in my community, it's even considered a very personal question!). Some of the most observant Jews I know are athiests; belief in g-d and level of Jewish observance are not directly correlated. Cannot overstate how common it is for Jews to not believe in g-d or go back and forth on the question.

On that note, there are different levels of Jewish observance. Every individual is different, but in general there's Orthodox (very strict), and then, way on the other side, there's Reform and Conservative (Conservative does not equal politically Conservative). Conservative and Reform are very similar, except the Conservative movement tends to be more observant of traditional Jewish law and uses a lot more Hebrew. If you live in an area without a lot of Jews (like where I live!), it's very common for Reform and Conservative movements to have a lot of overlap and collaborate on a lot of stuff together.

Not every Jew keeps Kosher, or keeps Kosher to the same level of strictness.

Synagogue services are not like Christian services, especially outside of holiday services. Ordinary Saturday morning services are often more like a group conversation as we try to work new meaning out of the Torah. The B'Nei Mitzvah, the big ceremony that marks a kid being old enough to participate fully in Jewish life, is more like "baby's first thesis defense" than anything else! There have literally been pauses in services I've attended before as someone ran to the temple library to check their sources.

Not all Jews speak Hebrew. Some Jews might not know any, some might be able to stumble through the more important prayers, some might be able to sight-read okay, some might only know religious words but not modern words, some might be fluent! Just about any level of proficiency is believable.

Ed's got a lot of tattoos! Tattoos are a big traditional Jewish no-no, but (again!) different movements and different Jews have their own opinions. I know a Conservative tattoo artist! It's not something that other Jews would comment on (unless they're just assholes) and it wouldn't make anyone kick him out of synagogue services (no joke, I read that in a fic once).

Hannukah is not the only (or even the most important) Jewish holiday; it's just the one most non-Jews know about. The two biggest holidays are Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. I think Ed's favorite holidays would be Purim (you get to wear costumes and put on plays!) and Passover (retelling of a story along with a big meal!).

Depending on the area and the Jewish demographic, Jews of color can sometimes feel uncomfortable in our own community, especially when other Jews automatically assume we must be converts. While this is a real issue, it is not something I want to read authors who aren't themselves Jews of color write about because it is a deeply inter-Jewish issue.

Depending on the community you grow up in, religious trauma isn't as common with queer Jews as it is with queer Christians. The Reform movement has been advocating for queer Jews since the 1960s (you read that right, yes). I'm not saying there are no queer Jews who have religious trauma, I'm just saing it's a lot less common, and I have always felt immediately accepted as queer in Jewish spaces.

The inverse is not true. Queer spaces are not always accepting of Jews (or of people of color, a double whammy!).

A few stereotypes to avoid: Jews are often stereotyped as being greedy and corrupt. Jewish kids are bullied by Christian kids because "we killed Jesus," when I was ten I had another kid ask to "see my horns." Always avoid comparing Ed directly to animals, especially rodents.

If you're a non-Jew looking to write about a Jewish Ed, I recommend doing some research. MyJewishLearning is a great website that's very accessible.

Every Jew interacts with our Judaism differently, so if you're writing a Jewish Ed, please take a moment to think about what it means for him! Membership in a community? Calming traditions that remind him of home, family, and community? A point of pride - we're a resilient lot! Even just a note in his background that he's not as connected to as he might like to be?

[dearasteria]

Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.

I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:

DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.

At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:

"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."

After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.

The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡

Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).

My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?

But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.

Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅

I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)

What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.

EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.

[lej222]

Hi!! I'm a big fan of your blog and I want to ask if you can share more scenes of Jisu displaying autistic behaviour? After reading your analysis about him I felt like I finally understood his character!😃

Hello! Thank you so much for your question, and of course I can! First, I want to mention that if Jisu is truly on the spectrum, Soonkki has done a spectacular job with his character. I don't know if she has someone close to her with ASD or she has done an excellent research, either way Jisu feels like a realistic person and it's something really hard to achieve, not just narratively but visually as well.

Episode 124 is the best example of Jisu being neurodivergent. Let's take a closer look:

Poor Jisu was not simply angry, he was livid. Not only he suffered an almost concussion because of Cheol, he was also humiliated in front of the whole school after being bullied his whole life. So Jisu's anger was justified, but it was still a big contrast to his usual calm behaviour. He was so furious he didn't even realize bumping into that post. To understand his actions, I have to talk about children with autism spectrum disorder.

If you've ever met a child with ASD, you probably know that they are different from their peers. It's NOT a bad thing, but it can easily make them feel like outsiders and a target of bullying. Autistic children have a hard time understanding and managing their emotions. In most cases, the child appears to be happy, sad, indifferent or angry. It doesn't mean they are not capable of experiencing other emotions or feeling empathy. For educators and parents it's important to teach them how to express more complicated and complex emotions and how to deal with negative feelings in other ways than getting angry.

Here, what we can see is Jisu not being able to regulate his emotions, almost like an outburst. Outbursts can happen when an individidual on the spectrum is overwhelmed with intense, often negative emotions. In this case, frustration and anger. Jisu loses his temper to the point he's not even aware of his surroundings. Even to the characters of the story, his actions are unusual.

This is my absolute favourite scene of Jisu displaying neurodivergent behaviour. Miae is asking him a question about his feelings, more specifically what he thinks of her. As I said before, most autistic people have a really hard time understanding and expressing their emotions. It's the same with recognizing and understanding the emotions of others - known as cognitive empathy. However, affective empathy for individuals with ASD is similar to neurotypical people, or might be even stronger - the ability to feel the emotions of others. So they might see that someone is sad not understanding why, but still feel the other person's pain.

Here, however, Jisu needs cognitive empathy - he needs to understand why Miae is asking him this question and decide how he feels. And my boy is simply malfunctioning and freezes on the spot, he even double checks the question with a confused expression.

Like in many other scenes, Jisu avoids eye contact when he has to react emotionally. He starts fidgeting, not knowing what to do with his hands and doesn't give a coherent response. Putting a neurodivergent person on the spot like this can make them feel very uncomfortable because they might need a moment to manage their thoughts and feelings.

It's not enough time for Jisu to form an answer or to really sort out his emotions, so he runs away saying he needs time to think about it. He even rubs his head, visibly contemplating about it. And we know some chapters later he indeed gives an answer - that it looks good. Jisu was not joking that he needed a moment, he thought about it and decided to share his opinion, which is btw super difficult for someone like him, that's why he again freezes up after his answer😃

I hope that in the future Miae will realize that Jisu means no harm and tries to understand him🙂 episode 148 shows us she's on the right track. Also, every individual with ASD is different so obviously I cannot generalize Jisu's actions, but at this point I think we have enough clues to suspect he's neurodivergent just like how Miae likely has ADHD.

Edit: if we look at the childhood interactions of Miae and Jisu, the difference between how they interact with others is very different. Miae was hyperactive, always running around and wanting to play while Jisu preferred being alone and didn't enjoy the games Miae and his peers played. You can see how he always walked the same way, with his hands on the straps of his backpack which could be a nice detail for repetitive behavior.

For anyone interested, I will put some good infographics here that sum up some of the differences between Autism Spectrum Disorder and ADHD.

[writer-loogi2]

♡︎𝙶𝚢𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚒 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝙲𝚑𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚢!𝚂/𝙾 ( 𝙶𝙽 )♡︎

A/N: Hey y'all, sorry for not posting in so long- honestly I just haven't felt motivated enough to write anything ( plus college sucks ass ). That's why I decided to take a hiatus and stop posting here for a bit.

Anyway, I managed to whip up this post here. Hope you guys like it.

♡︎♡︎♡︎

♡︎𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: Gyomei Himejima with a chubby reader! ( gender neutral )

♡︎𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐!! Fluff, Gyomei being a big softie..

♡︎♡︎♡︎

( ♡︎𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚝!♡︎ )

• Okay hear me out-

• I'm very aware that Gyomei is blind- and I know that he can't see.

• But, he can feel..

• It's pretty obvious that Gyomei doesn't have a preference, he loves you for your personality, and not your looks.

• So in a way, having Gyomei as a boyfriend is great because he will never judge your appearance, ( but will judge you based on the kind of person you are ).

• Gyomei is the kind of boyfriend that will always say nice things to you, even though he doesn't like to come off as too straight forward. He knows he can make you flustered, but he tries not to.

• Don't get me wrong though, he will compliment you and make sure you don't ever feel insecure about yourself! He really cares about you. ( he has a soft spot for you.. )

• He's really sweet and gentle with you.

• He'll always, and I mean ALWAYS ask for consent when he wants touch you. Keep in mind, he isn't trying to do anything sexual with you, he just wants to know how you feel.

• Honestly, can we all agree Gyomei is built like a fucking Mac Truck? 😭

• The size difference between you two is insane-

• He's got some really big hands, so imagine him putting them on your hips- or imagine him cupping your face in his hands-

• Imagine his grip on your thighs- 😳

• I like to think that he really likes to hug you or cuddle with you because you're so soft and warm..

• HE'S SO 🥺😭💚🤍✨

• Anyway- moving on..

• Gyomei's favorite thing to do is have you sit on his lap while he's meditating or praying. And you better not say that you're 'too heavy' because this man is pure muscle and he's like 10x your size, he can handle you.

• He really enjoys your company btw :(

• So much so, that he gets a little sad when you aren't around. Sometimes he might even cry.. MY HEART 💔

• ( He does get really happy when you quietly walk into the room and he can sense your presence.. )

• He often talks about you to the other Hashira! Obviously, everyone is happy for him because he's with someone who is so loving and caring towards him.

• Gyomei loves you so much, and he feels safe around you. And he wants you to feel the same way when you're with him. ( he feels insecure about how intimidating he looks, but deep down, you know he's a big softie.. )

• Sometimes he'll cry in front of you, but it's not necessary out of sadness, but more like he's so overwhelmed with his feelings for you. Think of it as happy tears!

• Gyomei loves to carry you! He will carry you in his arms or on his shoulders. Either way, it doesn't matter, as long as he gets to hold you close, he's happy with it.

• Another thing he likes to do is kiss you all over. He'll kiss your face, your hands, your stomach, your legs.. yeah you get the idea-

• He always make sure to not go too far. He never wants to make you feel uncomfortable.

• Gyomei is such a sweetie.. he loves his chubby cutie so much.. 😔💚

• He likes it when you kiss him though. He gets very flustered when you show any form of affection, such as kissing him or hugging him.

• Yeah his love language is physical contact, but you already knew that-

A/N: Alright, that's all for today, hope you liked reading this post- I kinda gave up at the end sorry-,,

Well.. I'm going back to my hiatus. See you never!/hj 😃

°.♡┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈♡.°

♡︎𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝♡︎

[jeweled-blue-eyes]

hello! Sorry for barging in like this! (also sorry for my poor english too)

First I’d like to thank you for the recents posts bringing some very welcomed nuance to the character of Iklies I’m VADD. After the release of the new season cover, I felt like there was a significant wave of hate directed to the character - and, well, kinda for the wrong reasons? I mean, it’s absolutely understandable to not like him and call out the toxicity, but there were some readers who actively spread misinformation to get the character in a very bad light? And using some colonising rhetoric?? Guys??? This is not the take you might think this is???

I think I might’ve wanted to vent a bit with someone more open to a nuanced discussion, since I think the whole work is too well crafted to be reduced to a ‘black and white’ interpretation.

First what really caught my attention was using the description seen in the novel about how “Delman’s are savages” like?? 1. the poster themselves recognises that it’s a description used by Derrick (if I’m not mistaken), who is anything BUT a trustworthy source; 2. I bet the colonising, slaving country won’t have nice things to say about the people they just conquered? Not to mention is a description frequently used to even justify such actions, as it was in our own world (colonising nations having the “duty” to bring reason, advancement and enlightenment to such poor, barbaric people, who couldn’t know any better); 3. even if all of that was true, who is to say that every single countryman is like that? Are they not allowed to have their own individuality? Should we judge every Eorka citizen using Derrick as the standard then? Would that be fair?

Then what most caught my attention was the description that “He had a nice childhood, despite being a bastard (???), therefore he had it easy and by being such a violent man it only shows how much of a monster he’s always been”. I don’t even? Aside from the argument itself not making the slightest sense, from my reading of the novel the whole “bastard-lost prince” (a very beloved common trope for MLs in any other case, mind you) seemed pretty vague, and I thought it might’ve even been the result of Leila’s manipulation/mindcontrolling - since this way, with Iklies having some sort of “pedigree”, he would seem himself as “worthy” of Penelope, like Callisto (the Crown Prince) is. Was that part of his backstory truly confirmed? It could just be a wrong interpretation of mine, since it’s been some months since I’ve read it (thought, quite sincerely, I don’t think it being truth or not would change anything - the story starts with him being already a slave, being sold in an auction after fighting hungry dogs that would devour him to show his prowess for potential buyers, no amount of happy childhood will make this less f up).

Sorry for ranting so much! I was just really happy to see your posts and analysis!

Hope you have a nice day!

I remember that post! The pro slavery and colonising rhetoric was very uncomfortable to read and I think I blocked them after they tried to "educate" me in the comments of my posts and eventually used insults to force me to change my opinion.

I'm interested to see the passage that says Iklies allegiently had a good childhood when he was an illegitimate child of the King, because manhwas traditionally show the struggles and trauma of being a bastard. Princes often didn't have a good relationship with their half brothers. See the Ottoman Empire where they eventually legalized systematic fratricide. Furthermore if Delman is a warrior nation as implied and Iklies was really treated as a prince then wouldn't he have been expected to fight in the Livius war and gain combat experience? If he was then he's a child soldier and still didn't have a good childhood. If he was not then it's likely that he was just treated as a nobody. And no matter how good his childhood was it's not going to become an armor that can protect him against the trauma of having his rights stripped off him and treated like human garbage. What kind of logic is that anyway. Penelope didn't have a good childhood but Iklies had one that's why he deserves to suffer in the future, because he never had to suffer before?

"such a violent man it only shows how much of a monster he’s always been" I have huge issues when they call Iklies a psychopath or claim he was born evil. Together with them claiming that the people of Delman are thieving, murdering savages consumed by greed and violence. It doesn't only sound like stereotyping but also as if the root of the evil is in their genes. Which we know was historically used to justify ethnic clensing. They echo the words of Derrick who believes in the superiority of the Eorkan military power and the intrinsic evil of the Delman's that is defined by colonialism ideology. Why should we trust the words of someone who treated his own stepsister as a subhuman because she was of commoner blood? His family owns a diamond mine, he directly benefits from slavery. Of course he would defend it with every breath.

Certain Callisto stans/Iklies antis say the Delman people had it better in slavery than in freedom. How can the country of Delman be poor and uncivilized when the Eorkan military suffered huge losses due to Delman's archery skills? For Delman to last for years in a war against an Empire, the country would had to have an organized and well trained army, a food supply and a functioning infrastructure. The farmers would have lived comfortably enough that they could work hard and keep sending their army supplies throughout the years. The war would have been won in a week if Delman was really just a bunch of unwashed savages who didn't know left from right. Moreover if Delman wasn't a wealthy country and rich in natural resources the Eorkan Empire never would have invaded it. I even question the claim that Delman had been plundering from smaller countries, because if they had an army that could damage the Eorkan Empire that much why did they never annex the smaller countries? The plundering at the borders might have been done by thieves that had nothing to do with the army of Delman. Or it might have been just invented and used as an excuse to conquer them. Either way even if it was true, as you said, does that justify what happened to the cripples, the wives and children at home? "Your father was killed, your mother raped by soldiers, your younger sibling tortured to death and you were sold into slavery but you should be thankful because now you get to live in a civilized society serving your family's murders until they decide to do the same to you."

[pbandjesse]

I can't say I am having a very good time today. Emotionally I just feel a bit numb. Like why would anything be good?

It doesn't help that I woke up a million times last night. Every time I turned over I was just in pain and uncomfortable and just having a bad time.

So I slept in. But when I woke up it was because my mom was calling me. I already had one missed call from her. And it's never good when my parents call me out of nowhere.

And I tried to not catastrophize everything. But she was like. Are you home. Is James there. And I was just like what is wrong. And what is wrong is my brother is in the hospital.

I don't want to put all of his business out there. But he got very sick and Felicia's family forced him to the ER. I'm glad they did because apparently he deteriorated quickly and was admitted. He has an infection, verging on sepsis. He's not speaking. And I'm just like. Of course. This feels like a curse.

Like I don't want to be saying anything. I don't want to say my brother might die. But that's what I'm feeling. And then my brain just goes. You really are your father's daughter. Another middle child, becomes only child. I really hope that I'm just being dramatic. But also no one has texted me since this morning. And I just feel a little bit numb. I don't want to ask. No news it good news right? But I also feel like I will just fall apart completely if I have to get that phone call. I am trying to be positive but it is really hard. Why would anything be good?

When I got off the phone I was just. Moving on automatic. I washed my face. I made the bed. I felt uncomfortable. I liked my dress. But I just was not having a good time.

James left me breakfast. It was fine. Sweetp was bothering me. But I was trying to just. Be alright.

I would get under a blanket on the couch with sweetp. And I decided that when Sweetp gets up, I would get up and do something.

But he would fall asleep and we were just there for an hour and a half. So at noon I just decided I should get up anyway. Even if Sweetp yelled at me.

I would do a lot of small organizing projects. I cleaned my vanity. I went through my purses. I moved things into boxes. I moved things out of other boxes. I moved a whole bunch of stuff from the guest room and moved it to the basement. I did some measuring to possibly get some bookshelves. I put all the books back in the baby room. And reorganized the closet in there. I was just. Moving moving moving. The saddest can't catch you if you keep moving.

I would eventually decide that I wanted to go to Wawa. Get a late lunch. I went to five below first but it was a bit of a mess and I couldn't find anything I was looking for. I did cry in the car because of music. But I calmed down and went to get my late lunch.

I got my hoagie. And went home. I was back by 4. I ate my sandwich at the kitchen island. I put the clean dishes away and did some organizing on the top of the fridge I also moved around some stuff in the living room to make space for our new Christmas tree.

I had moved a bunch of things in the basement earlier in the day, including moving the decoration boxes to the bottom of the stairs. James would help bring those up later on.

When James got home I was not having a very good time but I was happy to see them. They let me know their plans for proving bread tonight. And they would go run to the store to get cranberry soda for tomorrow. Just trying to make me feel a little more normal. It helped.

I don't even really like Thanksgiving. And I'm not seeing my parents. And my brother is in limbo. I texted him and told him I was going to bully him because I was scared. And that he's being an attention seeker. That this is attentions eeking behavior. I don't mean it. I just want him to laugh and get me back. I just want things to be okay.

I would try and focus on other things. James took our fall decorations down and I worked on some nonsense sewing in the studio. Just cutting strips. I don't know if I'm going to use this but it was something to work on.

Eventually I would head upstairs. Took a quick shower. Got in bed.

James just joined me. And I think I just need to be quiet. And hope that tomorrow doesn't feel so empty.

I love you all. Thank you for reading.

[ametistacollinsworld]

✿ Thad x Super Shy! Reader ✿

My 58 request! Hope you like!

━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━

You, someone who was extremely shy, and who somehow ended up dating Thad, a very kind and sweet male Drone Worker, who was always willing to help you in every situation, no matter what. You were lucky to have someone like him.

You were never very good with social interactions, on account of your shyness and all…but Thad.. he helped you, he never judged you or even pushed you into uncomfortable situations.. so it wasn't that hard to fall in love with he. Who wouldn't?

You were sitting at a desk next to Thad in the classroom, being joined by some of Thad's friends who were talking to him animatedly.

" I swear to you Thad! You had to see it! I made a double basket!" Thad's friend 1 exclaimed in a proud tone, which made the small group of friends chuckle, which you laughed softly in a low tone hiding your smile shyly.

" Don't believe him- He just did it because we agreed! " Thad's Friend 2 said, which made the group laugh even more, leaving Friend 1 with an offended face.

" Hey! That's not true!… Or is it? " Friend 1 spoke in an offended tone, soon changing to a low embarrassed tone, which made the group laugh a few more, in addition to some teasing and jokes for the Friend 1. The group fell into a small silence after a while, but it was soon broken by Chad, another friend of Thad's.

" Say (Y/n), why do you barely talk when you're around us? Do you think you're better than us? " Chad asks in a questioning tone, giving you a dry look that makes you jump slightly through the heightened focus… in you. The group seemed to freeze at this question, turning gazes to your now trembling figure.

" A-ah… w-well, Y-you see- " You tried to start to speak, but your voice came out in a low stutter, which was soon interrupted by Thad placing a hand on your waist, pulling you to him. You rest your head on his shoulder in silence.

" Dude, don't be rude! It's not my partner's fault for being so cute and shy! Or are you jealous? " Thad spoke with a teasing tone, looking at Chad who seemed to blush with embarrassment with that statement.

" Oooooh~ Chad is jealous! Chad is jealous! " The group of friends sang in defiance, causing Chad to shut up with blushing cheeks.

" Tsk.. w-whatever! Let's get back to the game chat! " Chad exclaimed wanting to change the subject, which the group did, but not before giving some more laughs and teasing to the embarrassed male drone.

You hid your embarrassed and shy face in Thad's neck, making the male drone chuckle softly at your cuteness and give you a small kiss on the head.

" Don't mind him (Y/n), he's just jealous that I'm paying more attention to you.. " Thad whispered in a soft and sweet tone just for you to hear, which you felt your cheeks flush more, holding Thad sweatshirt embarrassed.

" T-thanks for standing up for me, Thad… that means a lot.. " You whispered stuttering softly, finally giving Thad a grateful look, which he smiled with his characteristic smile.

" No problems dear " Thad speaks simply in a sweet tone, placing a kiss on your forehead, then starting to gently stroke your head, which you leaned into him once again, but this time with a happy smile.

You might not be able to fend for yourself at times, but Thad would always be there for you, a shoulder to lean on and an understanding boyfriend.

[justplainwhump]

Hospital

Bea comforts - and challenges - a hospitalised Adrian.

[pet safety masterlist]

Content: BBU, recovery, de-conditioning, caretaker and whumpee roles mixing up. No medical whump, despite the title. Just talking in a hospital room. A LOT of talking, and a lot left unsaid.

Bea's fingertips gently brushed along his neck, traced the lines of the bandage that covered the rows of deep puncture wounds.

Her smile was as soft as her touch.

"Oh, Master Adrian, you picked a much nicer collar for me than you did for yourself," she murmured.

Adrian scoffed, his half laugh turning into a pained wince as it tore at the wounds in his neck.

She pressed a kiss to his temple. "I don't want you to be in pain."

"It's okay." Adrian groaned. "It's better with you here, already."

A content hum rose from her, and she curled up closer at his side in the narrow hospital bed. "I've missed you, too. I waited so long."

Adrian frowned. He hadn't even thought about it, he realized. Just taken it for granted, that she showed up at his side, was here with him, when he needed her. "How…," he slowly began. "How did you get here?"

She shrugged and looked at the window. "Someone picked me up."

"Who?"

Bea tilted her head. "Someone," she repeated. "Who brought me to you. And now you and I are both happy."

Adrian looked her down. She was dressed in simple clothes, a pair of colorful shorts with a watermelon print, and a plain undershirt. Usually, she'd wear a T-shirt over that, with plenty of color too. She wasn't, now.

"Did…"

Bea shook her head, an angry crease between her brows.

"No, Adrian Delgado. No more questions. I wanted to be with you and now I am, and I am well, is that not enough?"

"Was it Grimm?"

She shot him an angry look. "I hid the yellow T-shirt," she said. "And I didn't talk back, nor did I talk about you. I was a good pet, and you want me to be a good pet to strangers, don't you?"

Adrian swallowed painfully. It was his turn to look away now. "I'm -"

"No," she said again. "See, Adrian Delgado, you want me to say no, when I want it, don't you? Shouldn't that mean that you listen?" She pushed herself into a seating position, back from him, and Adrian felt the absence of her warmth on his skin like another layer of pain. "I came here, because you are here. And not at home. So I think it's your turn. Why..." Her voice broke, and she swallowed before she continued. "Why are you hurt?"

"I was on a raid," he said. "Runaway pets. Illegal brothel. I... there was a Guard Dog, defending his loved one. He..." He pointed at his neck. "He lost control. He was grieving."

She looked at him. Her gaze was unreadable. "Did you... kill the other pet?"

"No. Grimm... My colleague did. Handler Grimm."

"I thought you helped pets," Bea said carefully. "Like you helped me."

"I try," Adrian didn't meet her gaze. "Sometimes I fail."

"I understand him." Bea's voice was quiet. "The Guard Dog. He must have loved the other very much, to run away with them."

Adrian cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I understand him, too."

"Mh," Bea murmured and fell silent, lost in thought for a while. "What happened to him?"

"Refurb."

"They will make him forget the one he loved."

Adrian nodded.

Bea folded her hands and looked down on them. "The grief will stay. Maybe not for the other pet, that is forgotten. But for the memories of her, that are lost as well."

Him, Adrian wanted to correct, remembering the other pet huddled up in the corner.

But the sadness clinging to Bea's shoulders, made him swallow back the words before he could say them.

She wasn't talking about today any longer.

"Yes," he whispered instead. "There'll always be grief. But grief means that there was something good, before. And as long as we keep going, something good can come to us again."

Bea scoffed and turned around to face him. "What might be true for people isn't true for pets, Adrian Delgado. There is no us."

"You're a person, Bea." Adrian rested a hand against the bandage around his neck. "This doesn't change what you think of me, does it? Why should your collar or your injuries change who you are?"

Bea blinked. "You can't say that," she hissed. "That's... That's wrong. You're a person. I'm a pet. I signed up for this."

"I signed up with WRU, too." Adrian reminded her. "I refuse to let them define me. I refuse to let them define you. When you... when you were a good pet, for my colleague. Why did you hide the T-shirt?"

"I... I didn't want him to know." She bit her lip. "I didn't want him to know that..." She trailed off.

"That you're a person?"

She grimaced. "You're giving me a headache, Adrian Delgado."

He lifted a hand and reached out. Her gaze landed on it, then wandered up to his face.

"I would like to think there is an 'us'," he said quietly. "I'm glad that you're here."

"You..." Her lip curved the slightest bit. "I am glad, too." She clasped his hand. "I'm glad that I'm yours. Sir."

Adrian exhaled sharply, just as someone by the door chuckled.

"We don't usually allow pets in patient's rooms, but isn't this one just adorable? Anyways, pet, you don't look like a caregiver, so you might want to wait outside, while I'm going to clean up your owners wounds, right?"

Bea cast him a glance before she scurried back from the bed and knelt into position 2, right next to the bed. "Sir?"

She was perfect.

Adrian's jaw clenched so hard that it hurt.

No, Bea mouthed.

"I want her to stay," he said.

The nurse shrugged. "Your call. Just make sure she doesn't faint on us. Romantics can be so sensitive. Little princesses aren't made to stomach that kind of sights."

Bea's pliant position didn't waver.

"She'll be good," Adrian said.

"I always am," Bea added softly.

Her back still turned to the nurse, position perfectly straight, she winked at him.

His heart jumped.

For a long moment or two, he held her gaze. "Yeah," he whispered. "You are."

-

---

pet safety tag list: (let me know if you want to be added or removed!) @gottawhump @flowersarefreetherapy @whumplr-reader @highwaywhump @tauntedoctopuses @pigeonwhumps @whumppsychology @labgrowndemon @whumpinggrounds @somewhumpyguy @whumpzone @tragedyinblue

[neuroticbookworm]

Step by Step: Good writing must not be this confusing

Disclaimer: I hated every frame of Step by Step Episode 11, so what follows is basically my stream of consciousness that is currently raging against this absolutely maddening piece of TV. I am truly happy for the people who are still enjoying the show, so if you don't want to read biting criticism about something you enjoy, do not click on "Keep reading". Have a nice day/night!

This show would've eaten my sanity away long ago if not for my conversations with @waitmyturtles and @lurkingshan, who help me make sense of my anger and frustrations towards this show and form them into coherent thoughts.

I'd pulled punches in my meta on last week's episode and only critiqued the way the writing was lacking and how a few additions could've elevated the show. And when I clicked play today, I was still a teensiest bit hopeful that the show might turn around and surprise me. Oh boy, was I mistaken.

Read more thoughts on this episode from @waitmyturtles here and @lurkingshan here.

At the risk of repeating my friends, I'm gonna keep my thoughts short and crisp. This show's pacing and cohesion have been suffering for a while now, but that was nothing compared to the mess we were subjected to in the form of Step by Step Episode 11. I am now fully convinced that the tail end of this show is so badly written that it is barely coherent. New plotlines were introduced and resolved in the same episode (this is not episodic writing, because the show does not call for it, this is just bad writing), any semblance of nuance in the PatPut narrative had been obliterated with plot developments that make no sense, and the episode was rife with comedic beats that felt so out of place that it felt like the episode was stuck mid-morph between comedy, drama, and romance.

I'm just going to leave you all with one scene from this episode that encapsulates this show pretty well, in my opinion. Pat called Put on the phone to ask for his help, while the marketing team and Jeng are huddled around him. Put pulls his usual bullshit and asks Pat not to kick him out of his life again.

Pat agrees and asks Put to apologize to Jeng for fighting, and Put refuses and tells Pat that Jeng deserved it. The camera then focuses on Jeng's face for a second, and I sat up in my chair, thinking that we might finally be shown some emotional depth in this episode.

Was Jeng feeling bad about putting Pat back in touch with Put, even for professional reasons? Does he think Put is right and feel insecure that he cannot protect Pat from all the vitriol? Is he worried that Put might still be trying to win Pat back? But before my mind can even finish following any of those thoughts, Pat abruptly cuts the call mid-conversation with Put. And just like that, that close-up on Jeng's expression and its potential meaning became null and void. Because Pat very clearly does not care what Put thinks anymore. And it completely invalidates all the reasons why Jeng might be feeling uncomfortable during this conversation.

This show very clearly wants to be cleverer than it is. It juggles multiple themes and drops all of them without a satisfying resolution. In this storytelling environment, the setups are meaningless, and the storylines have no satisfying ending. I will be watching next week to see how it all ends, but I will always mourn this show as one of the biggest could've-been-greats in Thai BL.

[daddyboyhalo]

Hey! I saw your post where you expressed how you were feeling these days, and I want to give you all my support. I agree that this is a very difficult time, being this involved in something and it being turn around in just a few days, changing everything about it... Personally I struggle a lot with the fact that the other streamers, and mostly communities, are kinda "allowed" in a sense to just continue as it was? It might not be very clear but in a lot of discord servers and all people are not AT ALL up to date to the admins stuff, and are just enjoying their daily qsmp stream. I'm not blaming anyone, every streamer takes the matter how he wished, and playing doesn't mean working on things, but I guess it feels a little unfair in a sense? like Phil saying Chay and Tallulah admins are well and waiting to come back stings a little after seeing pomme and dapper leave :( It's hard to feel happy for this when you have the short end of the stick I guess

And the French might be a little too forceful on the ccs ; they are obviously not ready to talk about it, and waiting to talk to Q, but bagh and antoine still said that they watched the awards. I am quite uncomfortable with everyone assuming they will just leave when most of them didn't even had time to look more into the matter, Antoine being on holidays, baghera on her dance show, and etoiles having health related issues... I'm just afraid that it will put pressure on them while the other ccs are kinda free to not talk about it you know?

But yes, I personally try to focus on my uni work, to go out a little, to watch other content. For me the hardest is definitely the fact that all of this happened while etoiles had to take a break. I'm very happy that he's doing it, since he needed it. But since he is my main streamer since a few years, going from having him in the background for hours and hours to nothing during now three weeks was hard, especially in a time when I wanted to change my mind. I kinda felt like an orphan lmao, and hearing that he a was going to the hospital every day, still made me sad despite it making me happy that he was getting treatment. He wanted to come back soon but a said he had a relapse in his health two days ago :( My only wish right now is to see him get better, and stream when he'll feel well ! But yes it's rubbing me the wrong way that ppl are assuming "etoiles will boycott, he'll do this, that" when the guy is really not well, the qsmp is not is priority at all these days...

Sorry for the long text, but your feelings spoke to me and I also felt the need to vent a little, sometimes it's better than just keeping things for yourself, you are free to ignore this!

Hope it'll get better for everyone <3

-🦦

aw anon no worries, i’m glad you were able to vent here!! ; ; sorry for the late response, i’ve been incredibly busy, but: i agree, i really don’t like when people put expectations and pressure on a cc to take a specific action, ie boycott, especially when they’re going through it outside of the server. it might be that people just don’t realize, because i actually didn’t quite know how etoiles was feeling and struggling since i haven’t been keeping up with his streams for awhile and don’t really use twitter, so i wasn’t aware until i looked into it more. i really wish the best for etoiles and can imagine how that feels with him being your main streamer!! ; ; the person who’s comforted you so much without even realizing it is struggling, and that’s not a good feeling. but i’m glad you’ve been focusing on uni and getting out, focusing on other content, because those are all important coping mechanisms and can make it just a bit less painful! you have my full support too!

and yeah, it really does short when we get the short end of the stick here; i was both comforted that chayanne and tallulah’s admins are doing well and just… i’m not sure of the right word, but bitter knowing that some people were treated well and others weren’t? i also worry with that being the only perspective some people get that they’ll assume that must mean everything is fine when it’s not true. honestly, i wish i was just a casual viewer for example watching qsmp with no knowledge of what’s going on and that my enjoyment could just continue as normal, but instead the burden of knowledge and loss stings and aches so badly. it gets to be business as usual for some but for others it’s this horrible loss and grief, and it causes such a dissonance—“like, do you guys not see the dead and dying on the floor? am i going crazy? why are you walking straight through them?”. don’t mind my own rambling, but yeah anon, we’re in this together :(

[phrandallanton]

Random Dump Of 2 Dreams

Recently my dreams have been feeling weirder then usual. I can't explain it, but it's like as I'm deaming it's suppose to be meaningful but it's not.

One night ago I experienced somewhat of sleep paralysis and multiple false awakings. I forgot what was going on but I didn't like it and I was trying to wake myself up, like I usually do when I don't like what I'm dreaming about lol. My body was stuck, I couldn't open my eyes, I was trying to hard to move. It felt like I died but instead of going anywhere my spirit was just floating around the earth's atmosphere. Sounds cooler then what it sounds, it was really uncomfortable. I then tried to just lucid dream but anytime I do that it just turns dark and this time was no different. The closest I got to it in the moment was me trying to hang out with Nyon (cause that would be cool) but he instead started to dry hump me against a kitchen counter. I then gave up afterwards.(That was not cool but progress is progress!) Opening my eyes felt like pushing two of the heaviest pieces of metal apart from eachother, my body was no different. I tried to stretch and it was just so fricking heavy.

Later on I fell asleep and kept having lots of false awakings, the waking up part would always be me back in my bed with my heavy body. Then I'd move and something would happen that would obviously would not happend in real life, don't remember any of it except for one part about my dog dying and some how it being my fault. Made me sad, very happy to for real wake up and see her wagging her tail saying good morning to me. I'm pretty sure all this happend because my sleep schedule is more out of wack then usual.

Last night was odd too but one part stood out the most. It took place in a mall and doing something with my whole family. I was in this soap shop or something and this guy was pushing me to go as the place was crowded. I was trying to get out but I didn't like how he was pushing me so I went to throw a cup of water I had at him but ended up tripping yet still throwing the cup of water on him, so it looked like an accident. I felt bad but not enough to admit I was meaning to throw the water on him on purpose, so I apologize for totally not purposely throwing my water at him. He was chill about it and I took him to get napkins, we started talking and he wanted to walk around the mall with me more. I said yes heheheueheue and on we went. I saw my mom and grandma and waved at them, told the guy who they were then looked at them, pointing at the guy, showing them that I was socializing. They seemed content with it.

The guy and I went to this old fashion themed restaurant in the mall because I pointed at how it has a mannequin with a roaring 20s type outfit. We then got seated by this loud group of mafia like guys, I really wanted to ask if we could sit somewhere away from them but it was whatever. This is were it gets weird, recently (in the real world) I've been playing VRchat. It's something I play every so often for a period of time when I don't have any motivation for anything lol. I'd probably would play it more if I wasn't on PC. Always back to the dream, the dream imedently switched to as if I was playing VRC and the guy turned into a Bedman (guilty gear) avatar. I was like "oh cool! I love Guilty Gear, I can tell him that I like it and we can bond over it!" But I clicked on his profile and for some odd reason it was like those MMOs were the person has their own house or what not. So I accidently clicked that, panicked then went to join back to where he was, joined a different game he made and then woke up. As I woke up my brain took it as we "disconnected" so my first thought was "no! We disconnected! Now he'll never know how much I love guilty gear and we won't be friends!" Still sad over it. Might draw how it looked to be having dinner with Bedman.

[ficreadergirl]

Dangerous Inquiries (ch.7)

It was dinner time with Kory and Dick. You all were sitting at the table eating while chatting. You didn't say much but listened to them talking. About nothing but you didn't mind. They were both very good company. They made you feel at ease. You felt relaxed and happy. After dinner you all ate souffle Dick bought for you. It was pretty tasty.

"That's delicious!" Kory said. Dick smiled "My chef friend does great souffles."

"We should visit that restaurant all together!" Kory said looking at you. "It's amazing!"

"Yes. It was pretty good Dick. Thanks." you said with a slight smile. You hadn't talked much the entire dinner but you liked their company and the way they behaved. They were your family. Even when your father was still alive Dick and Kory were same with all of you. While you were thanking god you have them Dick asked you "You went to the class today?"

"Yes." you replied.

"I heard that you met Jason." Dick added. You froze a moment before speaking. "Yeah.." you avoided his gaze.

"So how did it go? Did he do something to you?" he asked anxiously. "No. Well…" you paused a bit.

"Sorta? I don't know. He came to my apartment to ask about my dad's murder case."

"Really? Did he threaten you or anything?"

"No. But he was… weird." you said quietly. The memory of him staring at you with those blue eyes flashed in front of your eyes. Your cheeks heated up. You shook your head to get yourself together.

"What do you mean?" Dick asked.

"Nothing. It was just weird."

"How weird?" he asked you. He sounded worried about you. "I don't know….he just kept asking about my father's murder." you replied.

"What kind of questions?" he asked. He seemed a bit angry now.

"He was just really persistent. Like I was being interrogated or something." you frowned. "Did he say anything else?" Dick asked with concern written all over his face.

"No..not really. But he said he wanted to know who killed my dad." you paused before continuing "He seemed really interested about him." After hearing your words Dick and Kory looked at each other. Both seemed uncomfortable. Neither one spoke for a few minutes. Finally, after a while Kory started "You better stay away from him."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Trust me Y/n you should stay far away from him. Something bad might happen." she said seriously. "But Kory…" you started saying "If you know something then tell me." Kory didn't reply. You looked at Dick. He didn't look at you.

After a while you said "Is there any chance you guys know white haired and eyepatched woman?" Dick and Kory looked surprised. "White hair and eyepatch?" Kory looked at you confused. "Where did you see this woman exactly Y/n?" she asked.

"A few days ago. At the library. But I haven't seen her since." you said. Dick and Kory looked at each other again. Both seemed worried. "Well we better talk." Dick said.

"Sure. Let's talk." you said. He was looking like he was deep in thought. While you were wondering what was going through his mind he said "I'll make sure they'll never bother you again."

"That's it? You're not gonna say who was she?" you asked suspiciously. "Not until I know more." he gave you a small smile which didn't reach his eyes. "Y/n. Just know that I'm trying to protect you." he added.

"You shouldn't worry about me Dick." you said. "Don't worry about you?" Dick looked offended. "Y/n! We care about you and don't want anything to hurt you."

"I know. And thank you Dick. I appreciate that." you assured him sincerely "But you don't need to worry about me. Nothing is gonna happen to me." you smiled reassuringly.

"Okay, then." Dick nodded reluctantly. You wanted to find your father's murderer. If it meant to meet shady people then so be it. Because even though you didn't understand how Jason Todd got involved with your father's murder that was your job finding out the truth. And you're more than willing to do it. After dinner you told the others goodbye and said goodbye them home.

Read more

[whisper-and-tangle]

The Best Sonic - Blazamy Fic

A fic inspired by the BestSonicShowdown polls!

A few days ago, Tangle, as what was supposed to be a joke, formed a tournament.

It was called the 'Best Sonic Showdown', and the idea was first created after Tails had discovered a phenomenon that allowed him to travel through dimensions- and bring a multitude of Sonics...Soni? With him.

Now, most of these Sonics shared the name-

But Tangle, for some fun, decided to start a tournament.

It was a series of polls- whoever won would get to be called Sonic, the others would have new names created for them.

The problem?

It got too popular.

Way too popular.

The Sonics were too interested in it- propaganda was made, and even competitors that weren't Sonic, like Metal or Shadow, joined in- out of spite, or to prove themselves better.

Eggman even tried hypnotizing everyone to vote for Metal-

Which failed, miserably.

What surprised Tails the most, though, was that Blaze even decided to humor Tangle's competition-

Amy, during one of Blaze's visits to Green Hills, managed to convince her to join in- Blaze agreeing on the terms that Amy joins with her.

The two sped through the competition, surprisingly-

Some merely thought Amy and Blaze were better than Sonic- others voted for them as a joke.

They even made it to the semifinals.

It was a tense moment- Tangle stood next to the poll boxes, about to reveal the winners of the semifinals.

Hundreds visited Spiral Hill village just for the tournament.

More than hundreds voted.

Tangle didn't nearly expect it to get this popular- she didn't expect it would become a full-on tournament, either,- she was going to make it a one-off joke.

But it was too late now.

It was time to unveil the winners-

And Amy rushed through the crowd, Blaze awkwardly following behind her-

"Blaze- Trust me, you've GOT to watch this! We could actually win this!" Amy said as she gestured for Blaze to follow her, running through the crowd.

Blaze shuffled through the crowd, eventually arriving near the front with Amy next to her.

"I'm unsure, though- Isn't this all...kind of ridiculous? I mean, we're not Soni-" Blaze said nervously, attempting to speak jokingly to distract herself from her nervousness.

She was cut off before she could finish her sentence, however-

For the votes were unveiled.

Both Amy and Blaze didn't make it through-

"Oh, c'mon!" Cried out Amy as she threw her hands in the air, dejected.

"Atleast we made it to the semifinals, huh?" Amy continued, lowering her arms as she turned to Blaze, who wasn't entirely upset by the endeavor-

Or upset at all, really.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't particularly...enjoy the competition. Marine should be happy I made it so far, though." She replied, sighing in relief- She hated charging through crowds just to see a vote, but was willing to do it for Am-

For a friend.

She was willing to do it for a very close friend.

"Yeah- sorry for dragging you here, Blaze. I was just kinda excited- You don't visit much, and it's...it's just...nice. Whenever you visit." Amy awkwardly spoke, turning away from Blaze.

Blaze looked at her, smiling slightly as Amy turned away.

"It's fine. I would've declined if I was exceptionally uncomfortable, anyway." Blaze spoke, hesitantly grabbing Amy's hand as she continued speaking,

"Would you..."

Amy turned back towards her- blushing slightly, and surprised.

Blaze immediately let go of her hand, embarrassed-

"Sorry- Would you like to go get a coffee? I just thought- that might cheer you up?" She continued nervously, waiting for a reply as she felt more and more anxious.

"Blaze." Amy replied, a blank expression on her face as she stared at Blaze-

Which only made Blaze more terrified- did she say something wrong? Should she not have grabbed her hand?- Did she completely mess up?

"I'd love that. Thanks." Amy continued, smiling sweetly as Blaze immediately felt relieved and reassured-

Much less anxious than before, Amy slowly took Blaze's hand as the two began to walk throughout Spiral Hill village.

"So, do you know where a coffee shop is?..." Amy said, laughing as they walked aimlessly through the village.

Blaze smiled-

"If I'm honest, then no, not quite." She replied, chuckling-

"I'm sure we'll find one on our way." Blaze continued, heading through the village.

As they wandered, Tangle jumped infront of them- tired, but happy nevertheless.

"BLAZE! AMY! HEY!- So happy to see you guys! Sorry about the whole semifinals thing- cool that you managed to reach the semifinals, though!" She said as she ran over to the two.

"Yeah, it's fine. Do you know where a coffee shop is, though? Me and Blaze were just gonna grab a coffee." Spoke Amy- Tangle thinking for a moment, before responding,

"Yep! Just down the road, actually!- Anyway, I've GOT to go! Can't be late- first date with Whisper!", quickly as she rushed away, a bouquet of flowers held by her tail.

"Bye!" Amy yelled to a far-off Tangle, who was already too far away to hear-

Blaze stared off with a confused expression on her face.

"They...weren't dating before? Did I miss something?" She asked as the two began to walk to the coffee shop.

"Pfff- Yeah, we both kinda had the same guess there. No, they just started dating recently- things are going well for them though. Happy for them." Amy replied, swinging open the door to the coffee shop as she walked in, Blaze following behind her.

Blaze took a seat next to Amy as they entered the shop, sitting at a table in the corner.

"Think I've been here before, actually." Amy said as she skimmed over the menu, placing it back onto the table as Blaze stared at the menu.

"Huh. That's interesti..." Blaze spoke, her sentence trailing off as she talked, distracted by Amy's eyes as she stared into them.

It was like a field of freshly blossomed flowers, with leaves flying through the wind,

the sky a bright, calm blue,

and the sun shining brighter than ever.

It felt safe, comfortable, and caring.

It felt perfect, despite not fitting the word-

Because the trees surrounding the field could cause splinters,

A misplaced step could crush a flower,

But it still felt perfect, to Blaze.

She loved it despite it's flaws.

Blaze didn't realize she completely froze up, staring at Amy-

until Amy asked her,

"So, what do you want to order?", Blaze snapping out of it as she shook her head, her face red as she mutters an apology for getting distracted.

"I- Uhm,- I'll- The same as you, please." Blaze spoke, desperately trying to think of an order, before ultimately deciding to give it up to chance.

Well, maybe chance wasn't the right word. She knew Amy loved soft-served ice-cream, and it was likely this shop sold it too.

"Right! I'll be back in a moment, then." Amy replied, getting up and walking over to order.

As Blaze was alone, she thought to herself;

Did she really think of Amy that way?

She'd never guess it, before.

She just thought they were very, very close-

But now?

It felt bittersweet.

She was, truthfully, in love with Amy-

But did Amy love her back?