#don't kick me i haven't done gifs a lot

[daysthatgonebye]

thanks to @not-mary-sue for inspiring this gifset

[plasticferal]

hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)

damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.

i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.

the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.

all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.

“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.

“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.

you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.

you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.

all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.

the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.

chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.

every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.

"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.

"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.

“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.

"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.

"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.

"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.

"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.

"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.

"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.

looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.

"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.

"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.

you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.

"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.

"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.

you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.

feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.

when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.

"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.

chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.

turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.

"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.

"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.

"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.

the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.

"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.

"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.

"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.

"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.

you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.

"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.

you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.

"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.

"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.

you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.

"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.

chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.

"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.

there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.

you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.

the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.

he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.

before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.

chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.

the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.

you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.

in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.

he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.

you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.

you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.

appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.

they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.

nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.

your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.

chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.

you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.

"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.

walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.

the room is filled with tension.

matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.

"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.

"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.

"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.

"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.

matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.

"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.

you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.

you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.

“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.

he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.

“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.

“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.

"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.

"chris," you start. he keeps talking.

“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.

“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.

“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.

"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.

"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.

"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.

"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.

"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.

"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.

"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.

you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.

"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.

you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.

"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."

"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"

"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.

"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"

"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.

"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.

your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.

in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.

chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.

the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.

you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.

"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.

he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.

"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.

tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.

turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.

you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.

"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.

"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.

with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.

"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.

his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.

"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.

chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.

"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.

he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.

"i mean it, y/n."

"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.

"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.

he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.

"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.

"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."

"i know, chris."

"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."

"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.

"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.

"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.

"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.

you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.

"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."

"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.

"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.

chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.

"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.

you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.

"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.

his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.

"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.

chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.

"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."

this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.

[banamine-bananime]

Growing up I lived in an area with a lot of cattle farming and I was very scared of the cows. Do you have any cool facts that will make me either more or less afraid of cows?

oh hmm let me think on that!

facts related to how to interact with cows so all parties feel and stay safe:

they have a very prey herd animal mentality. they want to move with their herdmates. they want to watch any potential threats like people and move away from them. they don't like loud or unfamiliar noises (they're sensitive souls. sometimes if i visit a dairy wearing waterproof coveralls where the cows are only used to people wearing cotton coveralls, just the whisper of waterproof pants rubbing against each other can spook them) or abrupt movements or going into areas they can't see well (and they have difficulty with depth perception due to their wide-set eyes for 300 degree vision, and with high-contrast, so going from sun into shade or vice versa can look like stepping into a white or black void for them and they don't like it)

based on this, we know the keys to low-stress cattle handling are consistency in how you interact with them, calmness (small movements, quiet words to let them know you're there), moving cows in groups big enough to have friends but small enough you can control the whole group without them milling around or the ones in front stopping and causing a traffic jam, and slowly moving them by just barely getting in their "bubble" of "whoa, you're a little too close for comfort, i'm going to move in the other direction" without ever getting into their "YIKES RUN AWAY FROM THIS THING" bubble

the last point involves understanding pressure and flight zones and point of balance:

from Mississippi State University Extension:

from grandin.com (highly recommend as a source of information about animal behaviour and welfare!!! temple grandin my idol since i was like nine i love her so. and i tear up when i think about how much she's done for millions of animals ;_; she's a genius and no lie revolutionized low-stress handling):

pet cows that get doted on enough to bond with people may not see people as a threat so the normal ways we use pressure zones to iinteract with cows don't necessarily do anything for them. you would lead them more like a horse, using a halter. or lure them with treats.

beef cows typically have little contact with people, often just processing (vaccines, preg checks, quick exam for any health problems) a couple times a year, so they can be very wild. doesn't mean they're aggressive, the overwhelming majority are non-aggressive but they have very large flight zones, so if you don't recognize that and approach too quickly, getting deep in their flight zone, that can get you into a dangerous situation where they get aggressive as a last resort. that said, they do usually still choose flight unless their calf is with them. "never get between mom and baby" applies as it does with any species

dairy cows are in between beef cows and pet cows. they interact with people regularly, several times per day, and it's respectful but not doting. kind of a business relationship with their handlers. they're not terrified of people by any means, but they haven't been, like, hand-fed treats to get over their instinctive wariness of potential-predator-like animals, and they know sometimes handling results in unpleasant experiences like medical treatment or pregnancy checks, so they avoid touch and have a flight zone, though it's small (and sometimes they'll calmly let you walk right up to them unrestrained, or approach you and lick you out of curiosity). very very rare to have an aggressive dairy cow (as in, one that attacks you instead of moving away when you're bothering them a little. really bothering them and ignoring body language when they can't move away is much more likely to get you kicked)

bulls are not docile. not every bull will be aggressive, but you should assume that every bull has the capacity to become aggressive with little provocation, and always keep a respectful distance and know your escape route if you have to be in a pen or field with them

cows love exploring with their tongues. any time you're in a dairy barn there's gonna be at least one friendly girl mlem mlem mlemming who won't leave you alone

adding on to the above, there is a slight caveat that you still have to be a LITTLE wary of friendly cows. 99% of the time they're just friendly but sometimes cows in heat will try to mount people. you don't have to be scared of friendly cows but if they're right next to you just keep them in your line of sight so you can move away if they make like they're going to mount. again, not common, never happened to me, but something to be aware of

signs of a happy, relaxed cow: lying down, chewing cud or eating, tail hanging down relaxed, moving slowly with her herd

signs of a slightly wary cow (you have entered the "pressure zone"): standing still/stopping what she's doing, turning towards you, ears turning towards you (watching the ears is a very good way of knowing what she's paying attention to), tail swishing or raised a bit away from body

signs of a distressed cow: vocalizing (they also moo for other reasons though), tail swishing, fidgeting/pawing/looking like she wants to move but doesn't know where to, freezing up and intermittently making erratic movements (back away a little)

signs of an aggressive cow: head down with attention on you, pawing ground, turning to show you their broad side. (turn sideways and calmly but swiftly walk away diagonally)

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.

Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.

And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!

Word Count: 5.2K

You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?

For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.

No tears came to you.  What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.

Still, it ached.  There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes.  You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.

All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.

With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.

You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them.  Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.

“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.  

You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.

“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”

He let out a small yelp of pain.

You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.

You frowned. Did she just kick him?

“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.

“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.

You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” you asked.

“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.

Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you.  Yes, of course they would.

“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”

You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.

“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”

“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.

“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”

“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”

Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.

“It wasn’t like that.”

A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.  

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”

The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.

Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.

The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.

Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”

He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.

“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered. 

Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”

You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.

“Thank you,” you murmured. 

To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. 

“Anytime.” 

“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”

You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes.  No doubt he had heard everything. 

Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you. 

Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry. 

“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.” 

Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it. 

Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs. 

If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air. 

-----------------------

The next several days carried on in much the same way.  Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences. 

In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut. 

The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile. 

You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another. 

Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice. 

Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated. 

Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side. 

This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent. 

The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience. 

All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship.  If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more. 

The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp.  He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do. 

You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow. 

This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse. 

You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent. 

You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.

 A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised. 

It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.

You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?

A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.

His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. 

You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.  

“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice. 

He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.

“I’ve had better,” he finally said. 

You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands. 

“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”

He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff. 

“Is this yours?” he asked. 

You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”

His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious. 

“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders. 

“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.” 

Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank. 

The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth. 

The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this. 

“Do you need more?” you asked. 

This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes. 

“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.” 

Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist. 

“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand. 

“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”

Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.  

He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?” 

“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad. 

“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.” 

You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.  

“Drink this.”

You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”

“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.” 

A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion. 

Without further protest you accepted the potion. 

This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve. 

He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional. 

This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give. 

Any nerves that remained slipped away.  You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past. 

Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had. 

“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”

A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin. 

“Oh?” 

He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”

You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much. 

“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”

He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.

“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”

He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light. 

Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”

“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.” 

You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”

“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.

“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.” 

He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you. 

Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”

“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”

His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.” 

Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure. 

Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers. 

“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”

Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.

“Pink,” Astarion blurted.

Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.

 “And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.” 

You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning. 

“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.

He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”

You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle. 

“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”

“Yes.”

Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward. 

Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”

“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”

You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide. 

“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”

Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.

“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.” 

He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control. 

“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”

Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful. 

“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”

You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul. 

It was true, all of it. 

By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”

You averted your gaze. It was answer enough. 

“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.” 

You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked. 

You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time. 

“Do you even want to have sex with me?”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”

“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.” 

He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff. 

“Well?” you prompted. 

He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.

“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else.  Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”

You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind.  Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury.  He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him.  You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment. 

“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly. 

To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face. 

“I thought I’d made that obvious.”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate. 

“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.” 

The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable. 

Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much. 

In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.

He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water. 

“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm. 

Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist. 

“Are you alright?”

He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”

“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”

He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest. 

“Does it hurt?” you asked. 

He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”

You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly. 

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”

“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.” 

A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”

Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh. 

“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked. 

“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.” 

He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow. 

You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own. 

He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced. 

It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.

Tag List:

@ambrolyer, @cassiecasluciluce, @tamwritesstuff, @hallowedandhungry, @mangomonk, @amefuyuu, @righteous-scamp, @starved-kitten, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @twinkliker3000, @unrestrictedbyreality, @screechingphantommaker, @becksynthetic, @black-sapphic, @dicenete, @isharaneith, @sarcasticlittlebook, @catsandskyrimcafe, @sora-o-kaku, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ka-du-trur, @baldursgateslittlestar, @rakilein

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

rrriiight i was thinking of a hualian x reader thing. the reader is a bit cold and apathetic but caring of two certain people and had been all the way through with hualian like for example, had served xie lian when he was still a prince or helped hong er from time to time. but somehow they just vanished and never came back.

surprise surprise, whilst hualian and some other gods were on a mission, they got attacked let’s say (or were in danger) and guess who came to save them? reader! and thats when it clicks for hualian. that was you. you weren’t gone. so- they never let you get away ever again.

just an idea that came to mind :D

In the Back of Your Mind

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

I'm so sorry it took so long! I try to put my life updates in my bio, but I've been very busy moving houses! So I'm rlly sorry and I hope this is good!

I didn't know if you wanted reader to be a ghost or a god but I made them a ghost

Because gods don't usually disappear for like ever? Idk uhm if you don't like that just tell me and I'll edit it!

Made up a scenario that puts Xie Lian and Hua Cheng at a disadvantage

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC!!!

Made up details about reader and their life

____________________________________

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are very happy with their relationship and their life

But something's missing

Someone's missing

They haven't seen you in a very, very long time

It's been centuries actually and you still haven't shown up

But they haven't forgotten you, even though you've been missing or maybe even dead they still think about you in the back of their head.

Xie Lian misses you dearly

You had served Xie Lian during XianLe and had always been by his side.

You took your job seriously and it was your first priority to keep Xie Lian happy

You served him well and fought for him too

Your loyalty to Xie Lian was deep and everyone could see it

Everyone knew you loved him besides Xie Lian of course.

Because it was obvious! You wouldn't utter a word to anyone else

Your presence was a cold force to anyone besides Xie Lian

You were always quick to create space with anyone who came near him too.

It seemed like you couldn't care less for anyone else's problems but Xie Lian's.

Not that it mattered to you, as long as you could stay by his side it didn't matter what you were

Whether you were his servant or guard, whether you were next to him or below him, whether he used you as a step or tool.

You never minded, you'd do anything for him even if he wouldn't do those things.

You stayed by his side when Mu Qing and Feng Xin disappeare

You stayed when his palace fell

When his parents died

When Xie Lian started on a bad path

When he turned meaner, rougher, and angrier so that he wouldn't be hurt by the world again

When he grieved because he had been done wrong

You stayed with Xie Lian for as long as you could, and you loved him deeply every second of it.

But then someone took you from Xie Lian.

You never came back

Hua Cheng misses you just as dearly.

You took care of Xie Lian so well and then you just disappeared

When Hong er as caught by Xie Lian obviously he couldn't take care of Hong er by himself

But when Xie Lian was busy, everyone else was too disgusted to touch him

And Hong er didn't want to be in anyone else's arms either

You were different though, even though you were a servant like Mu Qing and Feng Xin you reacted differently

You held Hong er gently, as if the mongrel child would fall to pieces in your arms

You wouldn't let anyone touch him or try to kick him out of the palace

Always quick, you would settle a cold glare on someone if they tried to pull Hong er from your arms

Taking care of Hong er was just as serious as taking care of Xie Lian to you

You spent a lot of time with His Cheng like that

So after Hua Cheng's first death he searched and searched and searched

He never found the two of you

When Hua Cheng had finally found Xie Lian he was so excited to finally see you both again!

Even though he doesn't want to reveal his secret just yet, he hopes the two of you won't find him disgusting for his actions

But. . . You weren't there.

Don't get him wrong Hua Cheng is very happy to see one of the loves of his life after searching so long but you have never left Xie Lian's side so where are you?

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng continued their relationship and their story without you

Which was unfortunate but what could they do?

They had both tried to search for you and found you no where

Things are always changing though

🦊🪷

It was just another mission, and it should've been quick and easy. Especially since Xie Lian and Hua Cheng tagged along. Hua Cheng was only here for Xie Lian though, no one else. The mission didn't go smoothly though.

Missions rarely go smoothly when you're in the dark woods, with lots of monsters, and a heavy fog covers the forest. Not smooth at all when lower gods are bickering with Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

They all got lost and wherever they ended up in these dark woods, had a block on the arrays. Xie Lian can't call for help or reach the heavens and neither can the other gods. What's worse! Powers are blocked too! It's like they've all stumbled upon an area of complete silence as if they were muted.

So even Hua Cheng is struggling a little bit right? Can't break the blocking energy source if you can't find it! Of course the gods all split up, leaving Xie Lian and Hua Cheng alone. It doesn't matter to Hua Cheng if his powers have been weakened or not he'll still do everything he can to protect Xie Lian from the monsters in the woods.

The more time Xie Lian and Hua Cheng stand around in the fog the more things they see. The deeper they go, the thicker the fog gets. And the thick the fog gets the more people they start to see the more things they start to see. It's not a good thing though, it's all illusions and they figured that out quickly when Hua Cheng swipes at a humanoid figure that looks just like Xie Lian.

Xie Lian doesn't have the time to solve the problem because him and Hua Cheng have a big possibility of being hurt right now. E-ming and rouye refuse to move. Hua Cheng will happily use his body and hands to defend Xie Lian if he has to though. Xie Lian says that's silly and chooses to run, dragging Hua Cheng along with him. The foggy ghosts only chase, and it's hard to run in such thick fog.

In fact the fog is so thick that eventually after running so long the ghosts give up on running after them. Xie Lian thought they were safe now but when he looks back Hua Cheng is gone.

Xie Lian shouts for him and tries to look around but the more he looks around the fog the more humanoid figures he sees. they're just. . . Fog. If Xie Lian could see Hua Cheng right now and he still wouldn't know if it was the real one.

The fog is dangerous, creating illusions of people Xie Lian already knows or things from his past, trying to trick him. He's only more lost and he doesn't know how to get out of this mess. It's actually very stressful, how does the fog know all these things, how is it forming the people he used to know and love?

Hua Cheng is in the same predicament. He wanders around the fog and at one point he thought he found Xie Lian again but when his hand wrapped around Xie Lian's arm, the figure turned in vapor. They're both lost. They're both being surrounded by crowds of foggy figures.

Just before the foggy figures are able to touch them the fog disperses though. A loud screech Is heard in the air, a sudden cold breeze blowing past Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, then the fog settles down. It turns out they weren't that far from each other at all and Xie Lian has never run into Hua Cheng's arms faster.

When they both see a foggy figure again they get nervous. One, because the fog has dispersed so they thought they were safe now. Two, it looks like you. Xie Lian already hates the fog he's already seen awful things but he doesn't want to see you like this. Not the fake you.

He can't help but tear up when 'you' try to urge him to come forward, but with the fog gone so is the blocked energy. Xie Lian shoots rouye out, trying to make the awful sight go away by rouye wraps around a surprisingly very sturdy wrist. You grip on rouye and pull Xie Lian forward a little, uttering a small "Dianxia, Hong er"

They know it's you, even though it seems so unbelievable. Xie Lian is literally jumping on you and knocking you to the ground. Hua Cheng manages to act a little more suave but he'd be a liar to say he isn't astonished. It's just a big pile of tears, embraces, and "I love you's".

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng waste no time bringing you home, they cling on to you desperately. Even if you just want to explore Paradise Manor it doesn't matter, both of them are at your side. They absolutely refuse to let you go. As if they're scared, if they look away you'll vanish again. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just won't let that happen! They love you very much and they've missed out many years of loving and caring for you. They plan to repay all the missed affections

____________________________________

Uhhhh here it is! I hope it's good 🤔 honestly I feel a little eh about this but let me know what y'all think 🖤I don't know if this is exactly what you were imagining anon but if it wasn't this make another submission in like deeper, exact details and I'll try again okay!

[kryptidkhaos]

Cleaning Supplies That Actually Make My Life Easier: Disabled Edition

O-Cedar EasyWring Spin Mop & Bucket System

All the housekeeping influencers have been raving about this thing for ages and I really thought it was going to be a complete gimmicky rip-off. I was wrong.

I've tried a ton of other mop and bucket styles out there, I had one ages ago that was similar in style to this one, but instead of the foot pedal for spinning like the EasyRing, you were meant to push the mop down into this colander type thing that would squeeze the water out. It would usually work for maybe 2-3 sessions of mopping before the plastic would just completely shatter from the pressure you needed to put on it to squeeze the mop. We even had a full on industrial janitor style one on wheels for awhile, but that took up a whole lot of space and was a huge pain to fill up. All them have been more trouble than they're worth. I've been relying on a simple spray mop with washable pads for a long time now, and while they can be great for small messes, it wasn't enough to really mop the whole floor with. (Not that it hasn't stopped me from trying, and going through about a dozen mop pads in the process)

We've had ours since February and I love it so much. Mopping is a task that I have a massive love-hate relationship with. I enjoy doing it, it's a highly satisfying process, but it's hell on my body, so I need to reduce the amount of back and forth for buckets, pads, cleaners, etc. as much as possible and have it be a simple enough process that I can give the floors a quick once over nearly every day instead of having to do big scrubs that keep me bent over and on my feet for long periods of time.

With this system, the bucket is small enough for me to fit in my kitchen sink and carry around the house without too much strain on my arms and shoulders. I don't ever have to bend over or put my hands in the water. The pedal/spinning action is really smooth a good 85% of the time. If you try to push the pedal down too hard or fast sometimes the teeth on the plastic gears inside will skip/grind and make a horrible sound (I though I'd broken it the first time it happened to me), but I've yet to have it actually cause a problem.

Third party replacement mop heads are in abundance and I've found massive bulk packs of them for super cheap, no difference in quality from the name brand. I toss them in my washing machine when I'm done with them and I think I've only thrown away two out of the 12 pack I bought back in February. (Sometimes you mop up something so Gross that you never want it touch anything again, no matter how many times it's been washed)

I really want the RinseClean version with double tanks, but haven't been able to justify it yet. The mop handle on ours is starting to give out after heavy daily use for almost a year, but I know it'll be way cheaper and less wasteful to just replace that when the rest is still trucking along just fine, but I'll definitely be upgrading once it...

...kicks the bucket.

[e-vay]

Hello! I'm a Brazilian fan and I love your work so much! Congratulations on that! I'd like to ask you what's the best Sonamy fanfic you've ever read and what's the best you've ever done in your opinion? It's okay if it's in English and I'm sorry if I wrote something wrong, I'm still not a professional in the language ❤️

I get a lot of fanfic questions so I figured I'd lump them all together here. Also, @blsantos your English is great, please don't apologize :) Honestly, some of the best fanfics I've ever read are sent to me as recommendations anonymously. So please, always send me your recs!

On that note, I want to specifically send 1,000 kisses to the anon above who recommended "I Love You - Come With Me" by @molinaskies

"I Love You - Come With Me" by @molinaskies was one of those stories where I wasn't sure what to expect, but as soon as I started reading it I PHYSICALLY COULD NOT STOP until I finished it. It has not only romantic love but self love. It's healing and cathartic. The author nailed the intricacies of Sonic's and Amy's characters.

"Subliminal" by @maddiebat takes place post-Sonic Frontiers and ahhh it just makes my heart explode. I can see this fic actually happening in canon! It will pull on your heart strings, I guarantee it.

"Late Night Talks" by @luescris takes place during the Metal Virus arc of the IDW comics. I haven't read the comics yet but I was aware of that arc enough for this story to make sense. I loooooove touch-starved themes and this fic really hit it outta the park!

"Birthday Surprise" by Shteph is a BLAST! It's a one-shot but it is filled with tons of great moments and humor and romance. There are scenes in this fic that legitimately gave me butterflies and had me kicking my feet and squealing 🥰

If you haven't read "What Was Stolen" by @beeextraordinary123 you are DEPRIVING YOURSELF! For the love of all that is good, go read it! If you aren't aware of it, it's an AU where Amy is a princess who meets a dashing blue thief 😉 It's full of all the delicious angst you could ever want with tons of romance and fantastic character exploration. I've physically sobbed over this story.

If you're looking for something short and sweet, check out "Late Night Texts" by @paddy-nic. It's one of those stories that gives me second-hand giddyness.

These are just some of the fics that have been on my mind recently and I hope you enjoy them as much as I have! And again, please always send me recommendations. I'm always looking for good sonamy fics. I live and breathe for these cotton-candy dorks.

-

As far as my own fics, I write a lot but I don't post much of what I've written. Of the fics I have posted so far, my favorite is Bubbles and Blush. There's no drama, it's just slice of life with pre-established sonamy and LOTS of lovin'. I had a whole lotta fun with that one!

Also for those interested, I am on AO3!

[grey342]

Grovel

Phil Wenneck x reader

synopsis - You make Phil grovel after an argument

warnings - MDNI 18+ content, teasing Phil, slightly in public, P in V, no protection and Phil talking you through it (kinda).

authors note - Thank you guys for being so patient it means the world to me! I'm gonna try to post at least once a week but, school may get in the way of that fml. Thank you again for all the support and I hope you like this one. P.S- this was kinda rushed so apologies for that :)

please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342

If looks could kill, I would've been dead as soon as I walked through the door.

There has been a bit of tension in the Wenneck household this week. Okay a lot of tension. It all started on Monday; Phil had to work late at the school again, which, of course, you had no problems with. However, the thing that bothered you was when he came home and revealed to you he was with that one colleague who has a massive crush on him.

Naturally being a grown adult, you communicated these concerns with Phil but, he claimed you were looking into things too much and he only has eyes for you. How cute.

So, you voiced these concerns to him yet again on Monday night. He claimed that you were being "dramatic" and "childish". Big mistake. You both started to go back and forth at each other until you ended the argument with the classic:

"you're sleeping on the couch tonight!"

Due to your stubbornness, the pair of you haven't spoken a word to each other since. It's now Friday night, the night you and your friends designated as the weekly get together.

You and Phil both agreed to act civil with each other but you weren't letting him get off that easy. You done your makeup exactly the way he likes, put on his favourite dress and, as the last kick in the teeth, put on his favourite matching set.

You had already everyone that you were going to run a little late due to work, so they all got started without you. You took an Uber to the bar and as soon as you stepped through the doors, you could feel his eyes burning into you.

You walk over to the table greet everyone and sit down next to him. The table began to converse with each other when you felt his breath on your neck.

"You think you're really funny don't ya?" He grunts.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You respond, feining innocence.

"Oh you don't huh?" He retaliates slightly smirking. You shake your head slightly and join in on the conversation. He puts his hand on your thigh and grips it to gain your attention.

"I'm in the middle of a conversation sweetheart, don't be rude." You teased. He straightens himself and moves his hand higher. He slowly moves it higher and higher until he reaches underneath your dress.

You struggle to hide your smirk when you see him realise. He leans in his voice barely a whisper.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You pull his hand out and place it on his lap.

"Control yourself Phillip, we're in public." You warn smirking as you notice the vein on his forehead, popping slightly. You love doing this to him. It's your favourite hobby; getting a rise out of Phil.

The dinner goes on and you've been teasing him non-stop, waiting for him to snap. It's when you hover your hand over his buldge and rub softly against it, he does.

"Okay so sorry to cut it short but we gotta go," he says standing and grabbing your hand, "Doug if you could call me tomorrow and give me our bill that would be great bye guys." They all mutter goodbyes as he drags you by the hand to the car.

He gets in and slams the door.

"What the fuck do you think your playing at? And don't even try to pull that innocent bullshit act. What is going on?" He exclaims.

"You know what's going on." You say avoiding his gaze. He scoffs.

"Are you seriously this pissed over her?"

"Yes, I am! And I know it's stupid but," you sigh, "I trust you with my entire life. But..I don't trust her and I know that's a ridiculous excuse but-" He takes your hand into his.

"Oh sweetheart, you should've told me this. If I knew you were this bothered by her I would've stopped talking to her months ago."

"Really?" You look into his eyes.

"Of course." He reassures.

"Now, don't think you're completely off the hook," you look at him confused, "oh honey, don;t tell me you thought you would get away with that little stunt you pulled at dinner." Your eyes widen in fear and excitement.

"Just wait until we get home."

Throughout the entire car ride, he seems freakishly calm. But as soon as you step foot into your apartment his hands are all over you as his mouth claims yours. You moan out of surprise and your hands immediately began to rake his back.

His hands reach your thighs, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and carries you to the bedroom. He places you on the end of the bed and begins to strip down until he's in his underwear. You doing exactly the same. He stops dead in his tracks and his eyes scan you from top to bottom.

"Holy fuck baby." You go to take your bra off when he stops you.

"Leave it on." He demands and pushes you back onto the bed. Your mouths meet again in a wave of passion. His hands rubbing up and down on your thighs until he meets your core.

He begins to slightly rub over your clit through your panties making you moan in his mouth. He slowly picks up the pace but it's not enough to take you over the edge.

"Please.." You beg.

"Please what?" He taunts.

"Please let me cum." You breathe out.

"Oh I don't think you deserve that just yet." He pulls his fingers away and you whine at the loss of them. in the blink of an eye his boxers are off and he began pumping his dick. He pushes your panties over to the side and rubs his tip slowly over your slit. You moan at the sensation.

He pushes the tip in at an agonizing pace and you began to squirm out of impatience.

"What's wrong honey?" He teases.

"Please Phil.."

"Come on, you can do better than that."

"Please, please fuck me Phil."

"Atta girl." He says sliding all the way in. He gives you no mercy as he pounds into you, the headboard beginning to bang against the wall. He places his head in the crook of your neck, his grunts and whimpers vibrating against your neck.

"You think it's funny to tease me hm? Make you feel good?" He asks in between breaths. You whine, shaking your head.

"No, good. From now on 'm gonna prove to you everyday that you are ten times the woman she is." He moans and picks up the pace.

"She doesn't hold a torch to you baby, she never will." You moan loudly, feeling the pressure build in your lower stomach.

"Phil..?" Your breath quickens.

"Yes honey?"

"I'm gonna cum."

"Me too, hold on we'll do it together mkay?"

"Okay.." His hand moves down to rub you clit, you whimper in response.

"Ready," you nod your head rapidly, "cum baby, oh fuck, cum on my dick." The second he says that you let the pleasure consume you. You feel his cum shoot into you as he whimpers in your ear.

You place your hand on his head, slightly pulling on his hair. He looks at you with a playful smirk on his face.

"What?" You return the gesture.

"Round two?"

"Fuck off." You say chuckling. He leans forward claiming your lips. You smile into the kiss.

His head slumps on your chest and the pair of you let sleep take over.

[xergoxponderx]

AK! Jason Todd x Vigilante! Reader (pt. 1)

{Lots of setting up for the story. Fighting. Backstory. lol} wc: 785 Synopsis: You're a vigilante siding with Batman, currently on a mission to assist in finding the identity of the Arkham Knight. Amidst the events of the Fear City plan conducted by the Arkham Knight and Scarecrow, you find yourself being taken hostage by the Knight himself. Though he seems oddly gentle...and familiar...

(Y/N) leaps from building to building, grappling her way across Gotham in homes of finding a lead to the Arkham Knight. She was determined to find something, anything. Not only could Bruce not get any leads as to his identity, but neither could Lucius and Alfred. And Barbara was kidnapped by the Knight...so of course that meant she couldn't help. Barbara. (Y/N)'s friend. (Y/N) shudders as she tries to block out what horrible things could be done to her. She stayed focused as she moves.

"I'm closer...I have to be...", (Y/N) mutters to herself as she looks down at the tank drones. The Knight must be nearby, if this area is so important to protect. "What are you hiding....who are you...", (Y/N) mutters as she thinks of the next part of her plan.

"Don't sound too sure...", a robotic voice states behind (Y/N).

She immediately whips her head around and stands up straight. There he was, the Knight. (Y/N) takes out her weapons, two kunai, one in each hand.

"Easy...not that you'd put up much anyways...", the Knight taunts as he slowly steps forward, "What are you anyways...a wannabe vigilante? A little kid hoping to get in the game? Hm...Deathkiss?"

(Y/N) furrows her brows at this. She's the vigilante Deathkiss to others, but to the Knight it feels that he sees her as a joke. It takes her back to old memories. (Y/N) was a poor Gotham kid on the street...no one to help her but one person. Her only friend, Jason Todd. (Y/N) is smart, capable, but too sweet for her own good. Jason is kind, and is willing to use his kindness to fight for those he cares about. That meant her.

When Bruce took them in it was only Jason who trained to be a vigilante, Robin. (Y/N) hung back. Jason tried to get her to show interest in being a vigilante as well.

"You could be something intimidating but sweet...maybe like Deathkiss or something...", he told her one night as they stargazed on the roof of Wayne manor.

(Y/N) didn't take up the vigilante life until Jason was kidnapped by the Joker...and killed. She swore she'd avenge him somehow, and that she'd protect other's from horrible fates that villians may lead them too. All under the name her best friend chose...Deathkiss.

(Y/N) can't speak as she stares the Knight down. Her thoughts of Jason affecting her. Amidst the silence, she takes her chance. She dashed to the Knight, grunting as she sweep kicks at his feet. She then throws a punch at the chin, hoping to stun him slightly.

The Knight dodges skillfully, grabbing Deathkiss's fist. He's quick, skilled.

"So he did teach you. Batman taught you how to fight.", the Knight says as he grabs Deathkiss's other wrist, "I know all the tricks. And I know you won't last in a fight with me. You're weak. You don't wanna fight...", he taunts.

"Don't tell me what I want!" Deathkiss retorts as she lifts her legs, kicking off of the Knight and backflipping away, landing on her feet yet low to the ground.

"You've learned a bit haven't you? I'm surprised...", the Knight says in his usual calm, almost cocky voice. "Maybe you could take out my men...but not me...and I don't feel like dancing this dance for long."

With a swift motion, the Knight dashes forward and takes hold of Deathkiss.

"Let go!", she calls out.

"Sorry sweetheart.", the Knight says without even feigning pity. He grabs her by the waist with one arm, his hands clinging to her side. With his other hand, he places pressure on a specific area of her neck.

"No-"

Everything fades to black. Her body goes limp as she's placed in a deep sleep.

The Knight gently placed Deathkiss in his arms. Holding her bridal style. He looks down at her. There she is. (Y/N). His best friend. His first love. His...everything. Then came the dilemma.

He knew he shouldn't have kidnapped her. This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't like kidnapping Barbara, to get to Bruce. This was selfish, all for him. He just...missed her.

But she's a vigilante, working with Batman. What would she think when she woke up? Would she look at him with those kind eyes, and admire him like she did before his death? Not only is Jason a dead man walking...but he's a threat to Gotham and Bruce.

He pushed these thoughts aside and shook his head as he takes her to his base. Safe...with him.

a/n: super rushed ik aaa i havent written anything in so long but if yall like it or have ideas plz lmk until next time!!!

[nordiccowgirl]

A small thing from the Sonic trailer that I love is how Shadow fights. This is something that I've REALLY started focusing on since Sonic Prime, so I'm going to try to talk about it like I'm not just losing my mind lol.

I noticed in Sonic Prime that they put effort into making Shadow and Sonic look different while fighting. It honestly took until I wrote this whole essay that I never published about Shadow's air shoes and how he clearly uses them to boost his strength - hence why his most well known fighting move in the roundhouse kick. With the air shoes behind it and his natural, unnatural strength, the roundhouse kick would/should KO basically every standard enemy he would come across.

Shadow is a very physical fighter in Sonic Prime.

Yeah, Sonic uses force when destroying robots and things, too, but he clearly relies on his speed and spindash more to propel him through enemies rather than just obliterate them. I noticed this a lot in Sonic Prime and I LOVED it.

I love this move to differentiate them more - I don't think they've really done that in the games since Shadow the Hedgehog (2006) tbh and it was definitely a bummer to get through the Shadow levels in Sonic Forces and basically feel like it was just a Shadow skin over a Sonic level. I really hope that Generations has some Shadow combat abilities and not JUST the Doom Powers lol.

Which leads me to the Sonic 3 Trailer, as all things do today.

Shadow's scenes are very physical in the Sonic 3 trailer. The very first thing he does is bust out of the containment unit (alas I couldn't find a gif of it lol).

And then he goes into the roundhouse kicks (thank you Shadow 2005) and, as I stated above, those kicks pack a PUNCH.

Those soldiers are FLYING across the room lol.

Then there's everything from the First Encounter, starting with snapping Knuckles' wrist like kindling and ending with him rocketing Sonic into the ground in a chokehold.

Again - using his shoes to his advantage in fighting. I love to see it!!

Shadow moves fast and brutally and it takes a lot for Sonic to deal with him. Even in Sonic Prime, when they're not trying to kill each other, fighting Shadow in S1 before the Shatter took all of Sonic's attention. Once Shadow focuses on destroying Sonic in the movie, I expect a LOT of super intense fight scenes like the one we saw in the trailer.

Even Shadows movement in the movie is more physical. Sonic always makes running look effortless:

While Shadow looks like he's putting strength behind his skating:

They did this in Prime, too:

I really hope that we get to see even more of this distinction between the two and if the rumors of more spinoffs are true, I would love to see something like Sonic Prime where they get to work together using their differences, like how they've really pushed the differences between Sonic and Knuckles.

I'm deeply in love with the Paramount Sonic Team and I honestly haven't felt like they've missed (yes, I even loved the Knuckles show). I'm so happy to see all of these parallels in the trailer and I can't WAIT to see how it all comes together in the movie!

[fischyplier]

Misfits and Magic Season 2 Episode 2 "Magma and Mingle": My Thoughts and Analysis

So here are my thoughts on Evan and Sam. Am I the only one that doesn’t see their relationship progressing into romance? I can understand that in this season Brennan and Danielle are having more scenes together. At this point, Evan and Sam's relationship feels platonic to me, but who knows what could happen in the next few episodes. I prefer platonic relationships because they feel more interesting than just romance. Also want to take the time to say, I love and appreciate all the hard work that went into this and every season of D20. Thank you to the crew, the players and Aabria cause misfits and magic has become very near and dear to my heart!

Click below to read more, warning long post:

Anyways, Evan has gone through a LOT of traumatic experiences since childhood and continues to till this day. Evan's body is riddled with scars, broken bones that healed wonky, etc. He got stabbed on a bus at night trying to retrieve a talisman for Boodle 10 months ago. And I would not be surprised if he's been through more but hasn't had the opportunity to tell his friends or elected to say nothing. I can't help but to read too deeply into the quote "dream small". Is it cause I feel that Evan has learned to dream small in order to not get his hopes and expectations too high? Just a theory... A game theory! I'm sorry.

After 3 years of no contact the pilot project are back! But they haven't really had the time to sit down and catch up. In the video below, Sam says "I feel like there's a lot of things that when we talk you don't tell me." Which kinda leads me to believe, Evan doesn't want to worry his friends so he bottles up his feelings and doesn't open up. And when he does it's always with a smile and jokes to mask the hurt. He isn't just sad, he feels like a burden and tries to not take up space. I can really relate to this.

Even Brennan says Evan is in deep pain. The breakup he went through didn't help but there is more under the surface we as the audience still don't truly know. The experiences of being a lonely unhoused teen is the reason why Brennan chose "belonging" as Evan's ideal track. Because that is the one thing he's been deprived off, humans are social creatures and need to interact with others. What happens to a developing brain when that is taken away? When all you know is your shadow, loneliness and hunger? So when his friend says we can talk, he takes that as a serious invitation. Evan now surrounded by friends wants to do everything in his power to protect those he loves. He doesn't expect it to be reciprocal. You can see that when he says "if I've ever done a bad job about being here for you, I'm always here for you" after Sam says we can talk. When Brennan tears up with that incredible delivery of "I missed you"... I keep rewatching that part! Evan is always on the go, needs to be prepared, needs to be ready when shit hits the fan. Sam has created a safe place where he doesn't need to be hypervigilant and can relax, maybe open up and be a little vulnerable.

Sam is rightfully concerned that something deeper and terrible is going on with Evan.

When Evan continues kicking a half dead Salamander that isn't a threat to any of his friends, a darkness in him wants to kick it mercilessly for pure enjoyment. That even his eyes turns black. The first thing Sam does when she sees this is to attempt to drench it in water like Jammer did. Cause she said that this has become "unnecessarily dark" and that "this is freaking her out". That she'll even resort to spitting on the creature if it means that Evan will stop kicking that crap out of it. The water cools and stops the creature. Sam is a great friend that sees Evan do something twisted and wants to help so desperately. You do not have to be falling in love with someone to do the right thing! I still think they should just be friends.

I love that in this season we can really see their friendship blossom and not just be surface level chit chat. As they get closer hopefully they can help each other in ways they really need. In the preview for the next episode Evan says, "I don't see you the way you are afraid people see you." Sometimes it takes someone outside of your point of view to see aspects of yourself you are too close to see. And I think that's beautiful.

That leads into my next point, no I don't think the progressing of their relationship means that romance is in the air. I can't remember where I read it but another person said it best, intimacy doesn't mean romance. You can get close to someone, be a shoulder to cry on and depend on without developing feelings. You can love and respect your friend and keep it at that level but develop on that intimacy of a great friendship. I feel like it made the most sense for these two to get closer in this season because they have more in common now. Before it was just the fact that they were students learning magic at Gowpenny and being NAMPS (non magical person or let's be serious MUGGLES!). But now Evan and Sam have both underwent break ups and that's something they can really connect on. I really hope they don't get together right after cause that sounds like a rebound and to me, story wise pretty boring. And in my honest opinion, jumping into another relationship right after being with K is a little too soon. Evan needs a friend not a lover, at least for the time being. He needs to keep his inner darkness and insecurities in check. That or a therapist.

Hopefully this doesn't age like milk, and if they do get together I guess I'm wrong! :3

Thank you if you read till the very end, here is a gif of Brennan giving you a thumbs up!

Why? Cause you are pretty cool!

Please consider liking or reblogging this post if you liked what you read. And I'd love to hear your thoughts on this episode and if I should continue!

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 20: EPILOGUE

status: completed

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... I got chills, this is the end. And. . . I don't know how to feel, I just want to thank you for everything. It means a lot to me ❤️

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

It has been five years since you left your small town, your home, your mother and her crazy beliefs, Joel.

Even though you're almost on the other side of the country, you've never stopped thinking about him, but most of all you've wondered what it would have been like if you hadn't seen that memorial plaque and opened that door, Joel wouldn't have yelled at you, he wouldn't have insulted you, he wouldn't have looked at you with those eyes wide open full of hatred, but now what's the point of thinking about it?

“I hate you, get out, I don't ever wanna see you again!” he thundered at you, you still remember his trembling voice and your eyes filled with tears at what you found out, at his lack of openness to you and his words.

You open the window of your hotel room, the warm air gently brushes your face and hair, you light a cigarette.

You inhale and think back to how naive you were, how the you of five years ago believed in certain things, in many wrong ideals, how you believed that love could overcome any obstacle. However, as you think back to that, you also think that basically it was love with all its nuances that brought you here, today in Seattle, where he had sort of directed you, to present your first book, the publisher even told you that if you keep it up you might win the best first-time writer award, not the Pulitzer Prize as he had joked, but it's a start.

You take another shot, you're a bit nervous, you've prepared a little monologue, you've chosen to wear a blue jacket with a shirt and jeans underneath to break it up, you don't want to look older than you are, and most of all you want to be yourself.

The book kept its original title “Bittersweet,” but unlike your ending, the one in the book after a bad fight had the two main characters reconciled within two days. He reached her before she left and asked her to stay with him, and she, precisely because she loved him above all else, stayed with him. The publisher loved that bullshit.

You remember writing it in the hope that you could experience that moment yourself, what would you have done if he had caught up with you? If perhaps as you were climbing the last steps of the plane, he had managed to reach you and begged you to stay and not leave?

You smile bitterly, you will never know. He did not come, he let you leave, he let time come between you, let silence come between you. So many times you typed his number and then deleted it, so many times you wrote long messages to send him and then trashed them, so many times you listened to his vowels again so as not to forget his voice.

Will he ever have done the same? Or will he have even deleted those few photographs of you from his cell phone? Will he have completely erased you from his life?

You swallow, you miss him.

You can tell yourself that he had a overreaction, that he was an asshole for never really trusting you, for not being honest with you, but the truth is that you can't think of him with hatred, you think of him often and never with hatred, but with regret.

You think if you hadn't snooped around in that room, he would still be with you today and you would still be at home with him, he would never have kicked you out of his house, he would never have yelled at you, he would never have vomited all those horrible things at you, he would never have called you busybody, you know he didn't mean it. You're sure he said it in anger, and when you're angry you say the worst nastiness, but later he could have called you back and asked to see you and talk about it, instead nothing, silence, a deafening useless immense silence that hurt you even more.

Leaving seemed like the best thing, the cure, but putting hundreds of miles between you, it didn't make you feel better: it certainly helped you realize your big dream, it introduced you to a lot of interesting people, but you lost the most important person to you.

You can't deny that you've also had other boyfriends throughout this time, but nothing serious. A couple were just one-night stand, then there was another, but even with him you've been for a short time, not because you didn't like him, on the contrary. He was sweet and kind, understanding, but that spark that made you want to stay with him and continue on your path together not been sparked.

You put out your cigarette in the ashtray, close the window and turn on the air conditioning, take a shower and then go straight to sleep, you must be in great shape tomorrow.

When the alarm clock goes off you feel like you have been asleep for five minutes, you feel tired and you would not want to show up for that meeting you yourself must preside over for your official debut.

The room they have set aside for you is a nice, quiet little place, characterized by exposed wooden beams with steel tie rods on the sides that give space and light to the room, there are several bookcases on either side of the meeting room and then a small stage with a desk and three chairs, one is for you, another for a woman in her fifties who acts as moderator and one more for your publisher, in front are a dozen rows of chairs. When you arrive there is already someone seated who warmly smile at you and you nervously return the smile, copies of your book are stacked on a small trolley at the side of the stage and then a copy for you on the desk ready to read some excerpts at the end of the presentation. You go to sit in the center, immediately joined by one of the Library staff who asks if you need anything besides the water she brought you, you shake your head thanking her.

Slowly, and unexpectedly, the room fills up, the editor just barely squeezes your arm with an encouraging smile sensing your nervousness, then whispers in your ear, "It's going to be okay." you smile tightening your lips nodding, then take a deep breath and look towards the audience, "Good morning everyone! " you greet and are immediately greeted by everyone in the audience, then the moderator takes the floor and introduces you, you lower your gaze for a moment nervously clasping your hands, then you hear the woman conclude by saying, "Well, I'll leave the floor to you now, more applause." you smile then say, "Thank you Becca for what you said, you are so dear. When I started writing, I had a stone age computer!" you make a joke and smile "Not everyone approved of my need to write, to tell the reality around me or sometimes to read it and narrate it as I hoped it would be. " you swallow feeling your throat dry, you take a deep breath "Then, someone one day..." your breath stops as your eyes set on the last person you thought you would see at your introduction, you almost open your lips wide in amazement, it's Joel, he's there, standing at the back of the room.

Someone coughs, someone looks in the direction of your gaze, you clear your throat realizing that you need to start talking again "Um... sorry, as I was saying, um... someone gave me a computer one day, a decent computer with which I was finally able to write as and how much as I wanted, he never stopped me from writing, in fact, he even lent me his house so that he could help me write! " you exclaim, then look up at him and lower your gaze "And I snooped around his house in return," you whisper, losing yourself for a moment in that memory, in those angry eyes and at the memory of those hands that yanked you and almost threw you out of that room.

Your editor coughs "Yes, um...what our brilliant writer wants to say is that..."

You resume "What I want to say is that if I hadn't had that person's help," and this time you look intentionally toward Joel "I wouldn't be here today, if it weren't for him I would never have started writing the first draft of Bittersweet, I wouldn't have met you today; so, I say to that person thank you" then you go back to look at your small audience as well "and thank you if you'd like to read me, thank you. " a shy applause rises in the room and you smile quickly at the audience, but then turn your attention immediately to Joel, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a black t-shirt.

Your heart is pounding, oh how you missed him!

The editor says your name, "Would you like to read us an excerpt?"

"Sure," you reply, opening the book at a point you had already chosen, and now that Joel is there, it seems more than appropriate that he listens, you clear your throat "She had never believed that her handsome prince, the man who had rescued her, discovered her, helped her, healed her, loved her, could suddenly reveal himself in a nature that was entirely new and unsettling to her. His eyes became so dark that they seemed to want to swallow her, she had entered his innermost, most painful recess of his heart and had struck him so hard that the man's reaction had been to attack her in return. Ella could not believe that she had been so wrong, that she had not understood the man she had been with at all, and yet the man's violent reaction had just told her to flee, to go away from him, because he doesn't want her there, in that place, she's the wrong person to be able to share this secret with him. Oh, how much pain Ella felt, she trembled for a day and a night," out of the corner of your eye you catch a movement, you look up and Joel is gone, maybe you hit the nail, maybe you were wrong again, you don't know. The fact is, he's gone, turning his back on you. Again.

The presentation is ruined, yes the audience applauds you and the publisher applauds you too, you smile, but inside you feel dead, wrong, humiliated, still. You sign at least forty copies, and part of you hopes that he is also in line to get his book signed, but he is not there. He couldn't have been a hallucination, right?

Your editor walks you to the car giving you lots of compliments again, smiles at you, has encouraging words and indeed tells you that for your next writings, he will be there, you can only be glad, you need an ounce of support from someone. You then get into your car and drive back to your hotel, you think back to his dark eyes, his now very visible wrinkles, his slightly longer patchy beard with a few gray hair, his broad shoulders, you think about how you wished that, at the end of the presentation, he was there outside at the library and hugged you apologizing and asking you not to leave each other again. You are a fool, you think, wiping away the tears blurring your vision.

In the lobby, however, you find another surprise that is very welcome to you, your three wacky friends are there now more mature - perhaps - but certainly changed as well, but still so cheerful, exuberant and always knowing how to bring good cheer, even on the darkest and saddest of days. They hug you, ask for your autograph, take a lot of selfies and post your photos on social media with the strangest and most curious hashtags that, however, end up making you quite clicked and searched for on your Instagram pages. You tell everything you missed about each other, about your happy moments and sad ones, they update you about their private lives and their small successes in the everyday, you are happy for them, for all of them.

And you? Are you happy for yourself?

When it is now almost midnight, you say goodbye to them, they have not found a place in your hotel, but in one a few blocks from it and so after a long silent hug you say goodbye and they leave, you ask for the key to your room and slowly walk up the stairs, you don't want to take the elevator, you need to walk and when you reach the hallway, you find someone you didn't think you would see again in the same day, Joel.

He is leaning against the wall next to your room, he looks up, and you find your eyes bore into him at a very short distance apart. You haven't seen him so closely in so long, and for one long moment you feel like that time never really passed. You find yourself swallowing hard and moving closer, you lower your gaze only to insert the key in the lock of the room, then you look up again "What are you doing?" you ask him.

"I wanted to talk to you," he replies.

"Now?" you question.

"It's important," he says, moving away from the wall.

You let your gaze wander from his dark eyes to his full, soft lips, then lift it back to his eyes "I don't think I want to listen to you right now," you say, opening the door.

"No, now!" he exclaims putting a hand on your forearm "Please " he adds in a softer tone.

Your heart beats hard in your chest, you are about to say yes to him, but then you reconsider "No, you waited five years, you can wait until morning and now leave me!" you exclaim releasing from his grip and entering the room. You make to immediately close the door behind you, but Joel resists by pushing the door and entering, you take a few steps back as he closes the door behind him.

Joel sighs, then looks into your eyes murmuring your name, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you look at him with sad eyes, shaking your head "I wish... I wish that... that - but what the hell do you want from me now? Why now?" you feel the blood boiling in your veins, the pain, the bitterness, the shame, the sense of emptiness all pour out at once and lead you to hit Joel full in the chest, you push him, you give him a series of repeated punches on his mighty chest, and you find yourself repeating aloud, "Why? Why? Why?" your eyes fill with tears.

Joel places his hands on yours stopping them and engulfing between his own, "Please, baby, listen to me, please," he begs wrapping your face in his hands and wiping away the tears that have taken flight down your cheeks "You have no idea how sorry I am, baby girl, I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

"Why did you wait five years? Five years, not five days or five weeks, but five years, you abandoned me, you allowed me to live alone, you made me feel stupid, I felt..."

"Empty." he completes for you, "I've felt that way every day since my daughter's been gone, always. Then you came along and brought light and warmth and love, I felt loved, so loved, and I was a fool for not recognizing this, if you don't want anything to do with me anymore, I understand." he tells you staring into your eyes and stroking your cheeks "It'd be obvious. I wouldn't fight it or look for you anymore, but I wanted to tell you. Sorry it took me so long."

You shake your head, "You know it's too late now, right?"

He nods lowering his eyes and then raising them again, "I know." he replies, but contrary to what he just told you, he kisses you, his lips are soft against yours, and even though you told him it's too late for you, you can't help but return that kiss, you missed him too much to repress everything all the way.

"It doesn't change anything," you say resting your forehead against his "It doesn't change what you put me through, how you made me feel..." you add kissing him again and this time more impetuously "I hate you," you tell him between kisses clenching your t-shirt in your fists as he slips one hand into your hair bringing you even closer to him and with the other he encircles your waist.

"Forgive me." he sighs with his eyes closed, "No." you reply out of breath.

"I would make love to you if it wasn't too late..." he confides to you, "Yeah." you reply again raising your eyes to meet his "I would too..." you add "But I hate you..." you say again, but your tone falters.

"I love you." he tells you, moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I hate you." you repeat again, but in an increasingly less convinced tone.

"I love you." he repeats again.

"I--" you falter, "Joel," you whisper clutching at him and grasping in the fist of your hands his T-shirt even more forcefully as if to keep him from escaping.

"I'm here," he says under his breath, "My love."

You tighten your grip even more on his shirt, "I never stopped thinking about you," you confess to him.

"Neither have I, baby." he whispers softly "I know what I did changed our relationship forever, but..." the words die in his throat when he sees you take just a half step back and slip off your jacket and unbutton your shirt without taking your eyes off his that become, as you remembered, two dark pools in which you now just want to drown.

You remain in your bra and with your jeans still on, you move closer, it's your turn to sink your hands into his hair and kiss him, you feel him hesitantly and almost shakily place his hands on your back one at the base of your back and the other between your shoulder blades, "Babe," you coo through your lips "it won't..." you're about to say, but he lays another kiss on your lips.

"It won't happen again, I swear," he tells you, looking for your eyes, "if you still want me."

"You swear?" you ask feeling another tear take flight, so many emotions you are feeling at that moment.

"On my life. I will never, never, never leave you again." he repeats caressing one cheek and placing a kiss on the tip of your nose "I love you, darlin', forgive me, it will never happen again."

You smile, you really smile after five years, it feels as if that bitter sweet feeling that had accompanied you for five years has been washed away and serenity has returned, love in his arms, in his sweet kisses, in his caresses, you have found each other eyes to eyes and you have promised yourself that never again and for no reason in the world would you be separated from him or allow someone or something to divide you. You are together now.

[starberry-cupcake]

I don't think I have a lot to update today because life got in the way of me reading as much as I wanted, but if I don't note things down, I'm gonna forget, so here we are. I'm not sure if I'll be able to update tomorrow, but I'll be back as soon as as I can, more for my own peace of mind than anything else.

previously, in harrowlicious the ninth:

this happened

also, I may have or may have not been slightly spoiled about a thing because people in my dash don't use the tags available to us mortals, so I'm gonna have to sprint if I see any semblance of skull make up in my dash

close the tab immediately

close my eyes and cover them for good measure

currently, chapters 12 & 13:

we are training how to...kill planets, I think

basically, I think we're killing a planet and killing the thing that comes out of it when it's killed

this is what the care bears taught me not to do when I was a kid

actually, I think they even made a new one in the new re-design thing specifically to make the point even clearer than in the 90s

this new one

that's the opposite of what these people are doing rn

so harrowbean is training with mercygirl on how to be environmentally unconscious

if I am understanding the dynamics correctly, you kill the planet and then you chase the planet's soul aka beast through the river and kill that too

if the ones they're escaping from are bigger than these, they must have fucked up massively with whatever they destroyed

when I started reading gideon, I thought the houses were like planet-coded

you know, nine houses and all that

the ninth is now a hypothetical mysterious ninth planet

but back when my astrology lesson was sailor moon

the ninth was pluto

and in that mindset, the ninth would be setsuna meiou, which checked out with some of the harrow aesthetics, I mean

a mix between these two looks???

I went on a tangent, anyway

I moved on from that idea later but, in any case, these people must have destroyed some fucking huge thing to make the mess they're in now

so, basically, in order to chase the planet's soul (which they call beast, but I think that's disrespectful), that's where the cavalier comes in

the slurped cav is meant to keep the lyctor running through that process, so that their body doesn't collapse

and it's meant to have their instincts kick in to do the final push and use the sword they were trained to use

if mayonnaise uncle had not done what he did, he would have probably been good at this part

but he was obliterated

by hubris

so, harrow cannot do this

WHICH IS GREAT

for us, at least, because it's more hope for the "gideon isn't gone" theory that keeps us together

I speak in plural, as if you didn't know exactly what's happening, but you get what I mean

in my mind, we're like this, waiting for gideon to come back

so augustine calls harrow "diet lyctor"

he should call her "lyctor lite"

mercygirl gives harrow crap for not being able to sustain herself due to her lack of cavalier-ness

augustine makes fun of her for her lack of cavalier-ness

and I'm here like...you guys are the ones who started this mess?????

it's not up to a teen to save you in a couple months from something you haven't been able to fix in 10k years????

maybe you deserve it????????

what is this, evangelion????

harrow, coming back from the training and planet killing

harrow visits yandere twin in her new designated room

yandere twin has a room with a lot of nudes

"life sized nudes in languorous attitudes, generally in oils, and all of the same two persons. They were enthusiastically executed. The duo posing held a variety of objects both likely and unlikely."

so...which lyctor ordered a ton of nsfw fanart of themselves and their cav or whatever????

I'm assuming it's a portrait of one of them and it's this kind of situation

yandere twin apparently likes the nudes, so they're staying there

harrow doesn't like them

I think it's A Lot tbh, but it's not my lyctor room, so I'm not telling her what to do

who has the room with the ceramics collection? because I call dibs on that

anyway, yandere twin is having a hard time with this too

both of them are having a hard time with doing it, not with the ethical or moral implications of what they're doing or why johnny john john is asking them to do these things

harrow can kill the stuff faster, but she can't be trusted to be able to stay alive after

harrow was never very good at not getting physically damaged at all times

yandere twin has a hard time making chad cooperate

who would have thought

imma assume it's a problem you might encounter when you slurped your cav against their will

which is what we think happened, idk, we found him stabbed in the back so

and also it's chad

chad complained about everything all the time

harrow tells her it's psychological

the mental health care plan of the lyctors looks like this

also, harrow suggests yandere twin to cut her new arm if it bothers her

I mean, that's one solution, I guess

it's a very harrow solution

yandere twin points out that harrow is the emperor's favorite

that sounds like a very bad thing tbh

she also asks harrow to make her own arm grow back again and harrow says no because she's not good at the fleshy bits

"the fleshy bits"sounds like something cursed that comes with cereal in a magnus archives episode

but you get the idea

we end the chapter with harrow appreciating yandere twin's company because, when she found her after she had stabbed not!dulcinea's corpse, she said "wish you'd taken off her arms"

I respect that too

again, no camilla yet

well, this wasn't as long or entertaining but I'll come back whenever I can...life needs to let me read this book

[allthingsfangirl101]

Out of The Blue – Keys

Masterlist

I walked into my apartment and kicked off my shoes. I went upstairs and changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized flannel. The second I got downstairs, I collapsed onto the couch.

Right out of MIT, I got a job as a traveling coder. I meet with business professionals and owners and help them build their websites. After the first meeting, everything I did could be done from home.

I grabbed my laptop off my desk and took it to the family room. I put on the TV show I was currently binge-watching and slowly started working on my newest project. I was finishing up for the night when I glanced over and saw how late it was. I was just about to close my computer when it dinged. With furrowed eyebrows, I checked my email.

Walter McKeys.

My heart flipped and then plummeted into my stomach. I haven't talked to Keys since college. We were in a lot of classes together. We constantly studied together and helped each other with our homework. I was the one who gave him the nickname "Keys". He gave me the nickname "Buggy". He used to say that I was annoyingly good at finding and getting rid of computer bugs.

Memories came flooding back as I read his email.

Hey Buggy, It's been a long time. I'm sorry for this random email, but I've been thinking a lot about you lately. That's probably weird. To be honest, I don't really know how to explain why I'm emailing you. I've never been very good with words. I'm only good with code. You know that. How many times did we have to do a presentation and all I could do was the coding part? You were always the one who did the presentation and the talking part.

Sorry. I'm email-rambling. Anyway, I've been having this issue with a code and AI. I finally made the connection and figured out the problem. I only figured it out because of you. I know that doesn't make sense, Buggy, and I'm sorry. Please watch the video attached and maybe, just maybe, it'll make more sense.

Sincerely, Your Keys

As I finished the email, my breathing was unsteady, almost coming out in short gasps. I reread it over and over again, my mind spinning with questions. I opened the attachment, but for some reason, I couldn't play it. When I finally pressed play, Keys popped up on my laptop screen. From the looks of it, he was at his office late at night.

Why would he film this at his office and send it to me despite how late it was?

That question made me finally press play. I held my breath as Keys started talking.

"Hey, Buggy," he smiled at the camera. "I know this is kinda weird, but I need to get some things off my chest. I'm not sure if you know this but for the last year, I've been working for Soonami on a game called, "Free Life". Lately, I've noticed something. . . Strange. Before I explain, I need to confess something. A while ago, I created a game with a friend of mine called, Life Itself. To be honest, Y/N, I used part of your code from our senior project."

Keys looked away from the camera and sighed. When he looked back, my chest tightened at the look on his face.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N," he whispered. "I should've. . . I changed it a little bit. Your code was focused on programming. All I did was adapt it for gaming. I'm sorry. I know I should've called and asked for your permission. I really hope that doesn't make you hate me."

He cleared his throat and took a minute to get his thoughts back on track. "Anway," he continued, "Soonami bought "Life Itself". They claimed to have shelved it, but my friend Millie found proof that they didn't. For you to understand what happened, I need to introduce you to Guy."

I smiled when his scream split and I saw the character he started talking about. "He's supposed to be an NPC, but something changed. Now, from the beginning. . . Guy's behavior is much more complex than it should be, thanks to our code."

My heart jumped when he called it "our code".

"But he's still stuck in "Free City,"" he continued. "He's still stuck in his life, this loop. And then, something changes. He comes to life. Why? And then I remembered. One of the characters from "Life Itself" was this guy that I nicknamed, "Lovelorn". And he was someone who was designed to never meet the right person. It was essentially the building blocks of the character. But he never stopped hoping that he would meet "the girl of his dreams". So I had to base this girl off of someone. . . and who better than the person that I was sitting next to every day? You."

My breathing sped up and I felt my heart jump back into my throat as he continued to explain to me what was going on.

"But then, one day, he meets Millie in "Free City", and once he sees her. . . he can never be the same. He was supposed to feel doomed, but instead, he feels alive until eventually, he is alive. Millie changed him. You wrote the code that was able to be changed by one person. One connection. You brought him to life, Y/N. You wrote the code that brought him to life. And he was alive because he met the one person he'd been waiting for his whole life. And I had to make it realistic, so. . . I based it off of. . . You. The woman of his dreams. . . she was the same as mine."

I hit the pause button, my heart beating against my chest. I ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to put my thoughts together.

"But Millie is the one who met him," I mumbled under my breath. "She's the one who brought him to life. . . I just wrote his code."

I grabbed my bag and headed to my car but stopped when I realized what time it was.

I went to bed but as soon as I got up, I found Soonami's address. I anxiously drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I got close. I signed in at the front desk and headed up to the offices. The entire time I was in the elevator, I kept repeating what Keys said in the video.

"Hello, gorgeous," a guy smirked. "I'm Mouser. And you are?"

"Not looking for you," I said harshly. "Where's Keys?"

"Not here," he shrugged. I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair.

"You got an address?"

* * * * *

When I pulled up to Keys' apartment complex, my nerves made me freeze. I wasn't even sure what I was going to say to him when and if he opened that door. I barely found the courage to park my car and head up to his place.

I got to his door but hesitated before knocking. I held my breath as I waited for him to answer. The longer it took him, the closer I got to turning around and running away. I was just about to when the door opened.

"Y/N," Keys stuttered.

"Hi," I said, my voice softer than I wished. "We need to talk about that video."

He sent me a small smile and nodded. I took a shaky breath when he opened the door and moved aside for me to come in. I walked in and instantly started nervously playing with my hands.

"Have a seat," he invited me.

"Nice place," I mumbled as I looked around but didn't sit down.

"Thanks," he chuckled, clearly embarrassed. He cleared his throat before attempting to break through the tension. "So, that video. . ."

"Millie brought him to life," I cut him off. "Not me."

"It was your code," he shrugged with a small look on his face.

"You said I was the woman of your dreams," I continued, "but your friend Millie is the one who brought him to life. Not me. So according to that, she should be the woman of your dreams."

"But she's not," he said, slowly taking a step closer to me. "Millie has a lot in common with you. She loves bubblegum ice cream, swingsets, and Mariah Carey. So yes, Millie is the one that Guy ran into, but it was the similarities that he fell for. In fact, if you had run into him in the game, you would have brought him to life."

"Keys, this is. . . I don't understand. . . I just. . ."

I cut myself off when he leaned in, his face inches from mine. "I know I was rambling," he whispered, "but there is one important part in what I said."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've had a lot of time to think about this," he continued. "You're the woman of my dreams, Buggy."

Before I could say anything, Keys leaned in and gently pressed his lips to mine. My mind was swimming as I slowly kissed him back. He broke the kiss with a small smile on his face. We looked into each other's eyes as we struggled to catch our breaths.

"I know this was completely random," he whispered with his forehead pressed to mine, "but I couldn't stop thinking about you, Buggy. Every day I fixed the coding issues with Free Life, I thought about you. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the night we graduated from MIT."

"That video. . ." I whispered but didn't continue.

"Was my cowardly way of admitting my feelings for you," he said with a small chuckle as he leaned back. I held my breath as he reached forward and gently grabbed my hands, slightly pulling me closer.

"Say it," I said under my breath.

"Say what?" He asked, slightly tilting his head.

"Confess to me what you confessed in the video."

Keys smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

"You are the woman of my dreams," he whispered. "I created the character Lovelorn and kinda based him off of me. I designed him to never meet the right person because I was worried I never would. As I was creating him and "the girl of his dreams", I started basing her off the first girl that came to my mind. You. I thought about what I felt as we sat next to each other and worked on our senior projects. I thought about how I felt when you helped me with my code. I thought about how badly I wanted to be more than just coding partners. You, my dear Buggy, are the woman of my dreams."

I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smile as he tightened his arms around my waist and kissed me back. We let out matching laughs as we fell back onto his couch. He hovered over me, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I've missed you, Buggy."

"I've missed you too, Keys."

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Tour de Richmond

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: Jamie gives you a tour of Richmond as well as gets to know you better. When you tell your cousin of his teammate's generosity, he suddenly becomes a bit hostile towards Jamie.

Meet Cousin McAdoo | Caffeine Crash

A/N: i looked up the bare minimum of the Richmond area. if anything is wrong, please let me know!

"So you've been around here, yeah?" Jamie asks, gesturing to the small shops that neighbors the cafe you were just at.

"A bit. Haven't really gone in any of these shops. But they're cute!"

"We can pop in a few if you'd like?" he suggests, pointing to a bookshop to your left.

"Another time."

Jamie shrugs, "Suit yourself."

He guides you away from the shops and towards, "The Richmond Green. The general gathering spot for people here. Kids like to play football here. There's sometimes cricket tournies here too."

You smile at the gathering of people scattered around the green acres. You see a small group of people doing yoga, three teens kicking a football around, people walking their dogs around. It's a very comforting atmosphere.

Jamie does his best not to be obvious about looking at you. He finds himself smiling to himself because you seem to find joy in the sights before you. He then turns to the view and realizes that he's never really enjoyed watching everything and everyone. He's always ran past them all during trainings and whatnot.

"Sorry, is it okay if we sit down and people watch for a little?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," he follows you to a bench where you both sit down.

You sit your drink and stare, "It's nice to just sit here and watch everything. I find it very calming. I don't get to do it much back home, though, always too busy with work and life."

"I don't think I've ever done this. I felt like I need to be on the go, ya know? Spend my time trying to get better, improvin' and all that."

You turn your attention to him, "You've never given yourself a break? What do you do during the off season? Don't you go on vacation?"

He shrugs, "I'm busy practicin'. I'll visit me mum and Simon sometimes, but they're doing their own travelin' a lot of the time," he nudges you with his shoulder, "What about you? Have you done any travelin'?"

"When my aunt married Isaac's uncle, that was the first time I travelled. They had a destination wedding in France. Wanted to be in the city of love and romance. That's where I met Isaac. We became really close through that trip. He's like my big brother. Always looking out for me." you take another sip of your drink and stand to your feet, "Okay. I'm ready to continue."

Jamie follows as you two continue to walk around the green. He points over in one direction, "Right there is the Richmond Palace. The Tudors lived there and some shit. Over there is the Richmond Theater. They do plays and stuff there."

You snort at Jamie's explanations, "Some tour guide you are! You're not going to give me a brief history on the town or these historic landmarks?" you give him a playful smirk.

He chuckles, "I'm sorry I didn't do me homework before offerin' you a tour. Here," he pulls out his phone, quickly typing something and clearing his throat, "Richmond was founded following King Henry VII's building in the 16th century of Richmond Palace.  The town and palace became particularly associated with Queen Elizabeth I , who spent her last days there," he lowers his phone down, smirking at you, "Better?"

You giggle, "You're funny. Are all of Isaac's teammates like you?"

"Nah. I'm the best outta all of them. I'm the funniest, best lookin'-"

"Most humble," you add with jest.

Jamie's smiling at you. He enjoys your company. He feels at ease around you and he's only spent maybe an hour in your presence. He likes this little back and forth you and he seem to be doing. It's nice. It's fun. Maybe-

A ringing comes from your bag and you swiftly pull your phone out, answering, "Good morning, sleepy head...I woke up early and thought I'd grab a coffee," you roll your eyes, "Don't be dramatic, Isaac, I'm an adult. I can handle myself...I'm not alone. Jamie." you sigh, "Yes, Jamie Tartt. Hold on," you pull the phone away from you and hold it out to Jamie, "He wants confirmation I'm really with you?"

Jamie takes the phone and presses it to his ear, "Yeah, what's good, man?"

"You better keep her safe, bruv. If anything happens to her-"

"Oi! Chill man! We're just walking around the fuckin' park."

"I'm serious, Jamie."

"We'll be fine. She's a grown adult, man. Let her be," he hands the phone back to you.

"If you're going to be like this my entire visit, I'm getting a hotel, Isaac...yes, I'm serious! ...again, I can handle myself. I'll see you soon. Bye!" you immediately end the call and take a long sip from your coffee.

"I get he loves you and all, but Jesus. I can practically see that vein in his head ready to pop out."

You burst out laughing, "I know exactly what you're talking about! Also the way he frowns when he's all serious. Like," you do your best impression of Isaac frowning and Jamie laughs, "That's pretty good."

"Thanks," you reply with a smile, "I'm sorry about Isaac, by the way. Like I said, he's like my big brother and he sometimes takes the role too seriously. But he means well."

"I know. He's a good guy."

Another hour goes by of you and Jamie chatting, him occasionally pointing out some other Richmond landmarks. It was a very pleasant morning spent. He walked you all the way back to Isaac's.

"Thank you, Jamie. This morning was fun."

"I'm glad. Sorry again for crashin' into ya like that."

You shrug, "It's okay. It led to a fun little adventure with you."

Jamie slowly backs away from you, "See ya around."

"See ya!" you wave as he's lightly jogging down the street. You continue to watch him as he fades from view. There's a little fluttering in your chest and you feel a bit giddy.

You open the door to Isaac's and you yelp in surprise as he's standing there, arms over his chest, looking very stern.

"Uh, hi?"

"Did Jamie try anything?"

"What? No! He just gave me a tour of the town!"

"So he didn't try to kiss you or nothin'?"

You roll your eyes, "Nothing happened, Isaac. And if something did, it's none of your business! Besides, I thought you said Jamie is a better person now."

"Doesn't mean he can date you."

"Whatever," you pass him and head to the kitchen to make yourself a snack.

[thegeeksideofsr]

What do you want?

Ford! Reader

A/n: I am alive!! I know I haven't posted a story in almost a year, but I managed this one! I have some ideas to pull out of my head but it might take a while. Thank you to everyone who has been enjoying and supporting my stories. You have no idea how much it mean to me.

cw: Beaten up Eliot, a client in a bad relationship

The end of the day finally came. A day of dealing with screwed up supply orders, a chef being cut so badly they had to go to the hospital, and a dead car battery needing to be jumped by a coworker, it was finally time to go home.

So when the last door was locked, and the car was leaving the lot, I could finally relax and not have to wait for another shoe to drop.

I lock my car in the driveway, and dragged my self to my apartment door, locking it behind me, then kick my shoes of by the door.

I drop my purse the side table and take off my coat to hang on it's hook, shaking of the rain that started on the ride home, before head to my bedroom to get a change of clothes before I take a long, hot shower to wash the day away.

Once I'm done and dressed in comfy clothes, I head to the kitchen. I fill my water kettle, then place it on a burner to heat.

I turn to look through the fridge, then the cupboards, then the fridge again for something to snack on, but nothing seems to spark my interest, even though I can't remember when I last ate, so I decide on something simple.

I pull out some of the grapes I had in there and some cheese slices. I grab a box of crackers then begin making a small stack of cracker, cheese, and a grape. I pop the stack in my mouth as the kettle begins to whistle.

I turn off the burner, then grab my favorite mug and tea, and pour the hot water, enjoying the smell waft through the room.

I continue eating in peaceful silence while my tea steeps.

A knock on the door breaks the quiet.

I turn to check the time on the clock. 12:09. Who in the world could be at the door at this time of night. They should be in bed asleep, hell, I should be in bed.

I walk over to the door, stepping around my shoes. I look through the peephole to see Eliot soaking wet in a dark jacket and knit hat, and face swollen and bruised.

I step back from the door unlocking it it quickly before I opened it.

"Eliot? What the hell happened? You look like you got his by a buss."

He blinks. Then shakes his head.

"More like a army." He chuckles, then gestures to his head. "Probable concussion. I shouldn't be alone right now, and thought maybe I could spend a few hours with you?"

"Eliot, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in a hospital resting?"

" I don't do hospitals."

I sigh, grab his hand to pull him inside, close the door behind us, and drag him to the living room.

"Do you need anything? Ice? Food?"

He shakes his head gently as he sits on the couch, leaning his head back to rest on the back of the couch. I sit of the coffee table in front of him, a hand resting in his knee.

"Eliot, when was the last time you ate?"

He's quite for a moment, then shrugs.

" Right," I sigh as I stand, holding a hind out for him to take, " I'm gonna make you something to eat, and I do expect you to eat it, then you are going to get some rest. Here on the couch, or the spare room, your choice."

He places his hand in mine and I pull him to his feet, then lead him to the kitchen, making him sit at the small table in the corner.

"Sit here. I want to keep an eye on you."

I don't give him time to protest before moving about the kitchen, and begin pulling out ingredients for a grilled cheese from the fridge and cupboard, setting them on the counter. Getting my favorite pan from is hanging spot, and placing it on the stove.

I slice some cheese and butter two slices of rye bread, then place the cheese down on one slice, and the second piece on top. I place the sandwich on the pan and ignite the stove, turning it to low.

I let it cook while I mix up a mug of tea for Eliot. Getting it just right before placing it in front of him.

I smile at him, then turn back to the stove and flip the grill cheese over, the pan sizzling as the butter hits the pan.

I turn back to face Eliot sitting at the table. His hands wrapped around the mug, eyes closed. I take in his appearance, one eye is swollen shut, and a bruise blooms on his cheek.

I turn back to the stove and shut off the stove and place the sandwich on a plate.

"Eliot, what happened?" I ask, as I walk to table and set the plate in front of him.

He looks at me, then let's out a sigh and begins telling me in between bites about the latest job, helping a young mom leave her abusive husband, who had ties to some powerful people. And they had kidnapped the woman's little boy, and he and Parker went to get him.

"Was getting beaten to a pulp part of the plan?" I ask him as I take his hand in mine.

"I can take the punishment." He squeezes my hand slightly. "It was my job to retrieve her kid. It's what I do."

We sit in silence, hand in hand, until he grumbles.

"I like your way of distracting guards much better." He rasps.

"Me too," I smile. "Not as painful."

" I don't think Nate would agree." He chuckles.

" My dad knows I am a grown woman, and can do want I want. Besides, I saved that job."

"Yes, you did."

A long moment passes before I speak.

" You haven't come around since that job." I rub his knuckles, focused on a small scar near his ring finger.

" I've been 'round. We've seen each other -"

" Yes, but-" I interrupt, then hesitate.

"But what?"

I take a deep breath.

"But you haven't been here." I gesture to my apartment as I stress the last word. "You haven't come over to cook together, or watch a movie, or listen to me rant about co-owning a restaurant. You have barely looked me in the eye since then.

"And I know you guys have jobs, and that the world doesn't revolve around me, but we kissed, El. Once here, in my kitchen, and again on that job. And I would do it again if you wanted to."

I take another breath after my small rant at him. He still just sits, in his chair, Stoick as ever.

I let my body deflate at his silence. I release his hand, then stand up and head to the stove and to the pan I left there, now cool enough to handle.

I turn on the water and soap the sponge. I wash the pan, then set it in the drying rack. I wash the other items I used, that add them to the dryer.

"I don't want to mess things up. I don't want to mess with the team, or you." He explains. "I haven't had anything serious in a long time."

"You're serious about me?"

"As a heart attack," his voice has a laugh behind it, but then his tone changes. "But I don't think Nate would approve."

I turn to look at him. He's looking at the table, picking at his fingertips.

"What does my dad and his approval have to do with you and I?"

"He knows me," He sighs out. "He knows some of my past and-"

He stops, looking away from me.

"Eliot I don't care about your past. With women or the jobs you've taken. I am much more interested in a future. If that's what you want."

We sit there in near defining silence.

"Eliot what do you want?"

He finally looks at me, his face full of emotions.

"You." He grumbles. " For as long as you'll have me."

"You have me." I whisper.

He takes a deep breath, nods to him self, then places his hand on the table and stands up.

He rounds the table towards me, his steps full of purpose.

He walks up to me, his body is close enough to mine that I can feel the heat radiating from him.

"Will you, Miss Ford, go on a date with me?" He whispers.

"Yes," I whisper back.

"Can I kiss you?"

I nod.

He cups my face in his hands, leans in and presses a sweet kiss to my lips.

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