#i've had this in my drafts for like a month and i wasn't happy with it i tried to fix it a little today and i think it got a little bit

[cockworkangels]

thank you for the idea to paint eileen @caught-a-dragonfly :)

[hyperactively-me]

break in, break down

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering. You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him. With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.

this has been sitting in my drafts for like, ever. it's not the best cause its super old, like months old and i lowkey forgot i even had it, but it'll do for now while i'm in this writing rut.

happy reading <3

warnings: home invasion, panic attack reaction (i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything please!)

A loud bang reverberates through your apartment, your peaceful sleep interrupted.

You open your eyes with a start, the volume of the sound causing your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

You're silent for another moment until the sound of glass shattering causes you to jump. You sit up now, dumbfounded for a brief moment before unshakable anxiety takes over.

There's no way this could be happening to you right now.

You immediately leap out of bed, grabbing a stray hoodie off the floor, slipping it over your thin pajamas. Next, you grab your phone with shaky hands, trembling from the adrenaline and anxiety coursing through your veins. The sounds from outside your bedroom are starting to get louder. You swipe your car keys from your drawer, shoving them into the pocket of your hoodie.

In a frenzy, you grope under your bed for a baseball bat, struggling to steady your shaking hands as you grip it tightly. The rattling of your doorknob nearly makes you pass out in fear. Simon had told you multiple times to keep your door locked when you sleep, stressing to you that it wasn't safe to leave it unlocked, especially at night.

There was no way you could escape through the hallway. Lucky for you, your apartment is on the first floor of the building, meaning that you would be able to safely jump out of your bedroom window without injuring yourself.

You place all your things down quickly, unlatching your window from its locks. You heave it open with all your might, grunting as you hold it up to lock it into an open position. Grabbing your baseball bat first, you throw it out the window and onto the grass below you. Could never be too safe.

Suddenly, the person or people on the other side of your door start kicking at it, the flimsy wood shaking from the impacts. You bite back a scream, prompting you to jump out of your window, dropping onto the grass below you clumsily.

You don't bother looking back as you sprint to your car in the adjacent parking lot, throwing yourself into the drivers seat unceremoniously.

Without another thought, you dial 911. Running on pure adrenaline, you tell the operator your address and the urgency of the situation. The kind voice on the other end tells you that the police are on their way before you hang up.

You bite back a sob as your shaking hands type in Simon's phone number. You hold your phone up to your, chewing your finger as it rings once, twice, and the line picks up.

"Hullo?" a scratchy, sleep-ridden voice on the other end of the line rings out. His accent sounds particularly thick.

"Simon," your voice breaks, the adrenaline now worn off, leaving you a wreck.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, now sounding more awake. You hear shuffling on the other end.

"I- I think my apartment got broken into," you sob, fat tears now freely falling down your cheeks. "I'm so scared," you cry, bawling like a baby.

Simon's voice takes on a sharp urgency. "'M coming over right now. Where are you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm in my car, in the parking lot," you say tearfully, trying to wipe the tears from your face unsuccessfully.

"I've already called 911; they're on the way—" you add, clutching onto your phone.

The sound of a door opening and slamming shut crackles through the phone. "Be there in ten. Stay on the line, love."

"I'm scared," you cry again, your free hand trembling as you reach to make sure your car door is locked.

"I know, love, I know. Just hang in there. 'M on my way," Simon reassures you, his voice gentle. The ten-minute wait feels like an eternity as you sit in your car, sniffling every so often as you look out your car windows to make sure no one is coming towards you.

Sirens wail in the distance, the police clearly arriving on scene. Despite the growing fear gnawing at you, Simon's voice provides a source of comfort.

"The police are almost here," you breath into the phone, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"Good, I'm here," he grunts. You look up and see his truck hurtling through the parking lot, stopping abruptly right behind your car. He slides out of his car, rushing to the drivers side of your car.

The moment he reaches your car, you throw open the door and practically fall into his arms. Simon holds you tight as you fall into him, sobs wracking your body.

"Don't cry," he soothes, pulling you tighter against him. "'S alright, 's handled."

He cradles you in his grasp, running his hand over your hair as you sob into his t-shirt, fists bunching up the fabric. You cling to him as if he's your lifeline, the scent of his t-shirt grounding you ever so slightly.

"I've got you," he murmurs, rubbing your back.

Your sobs gradually subside into quiet sniffles, and you take a deep breath.

The distant wailing of sirens grows closer, indicating the police are here. Simon releases you just enough to glance over his shoulder at the approaching vehicles. "The police are here," you whisper, your voice shaky but relieved.

The flashing lights of police cars illuminate the surroundings as officers approach. Simon steps back, maintaining a protective stance beside you.

Two police officers approach you and Simon, asking for details about the break-in. You pull at the hem of your hoodie, trying to cover up your practically bare thighs from your tiny pajamas. Simon settles his hand on your lower back, encouraging you to speak to the officers. You recount the events timidly, telling them as much as you know. After providing your statement, the police assure you they'll investigate your apartment, but advise you that it's not the best to stay there tonight. For obvious reasons.

Upon their insistence of you spending the night somewhere else, before you could even open your mouth, Simon is insisting, no, demanding that you stay with him for the night.

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering.

You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him.

With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.

As you approach his truck, Simon opens the door for you. He helps you up into the passenger seat, making sure you're settled before closing the door with a determined thud. Simon then strides around to the driver's side, the scent of him lingering in the air as he gets in. The engine roars to life, and you find comfort in the steady hum of the engine.

The drive to Simon's place is mostly quiet. He occasionally glances at you, concern etched into his features. You stare out of the window, the events of the night replaying in your mind. You shiver in your seat, thinking about what could have happened if you hadn't escaped through your window. Simon's hand finds yours, a silent gesture that makes your heart ache with gratitude.

As you pull into Simon's driveway, you're met with the warm glow of his porch light. The familiar sight brings a new sense of relief. It's not the first time you've been to his quaint home. Simon turns off the engine, and without a word, he's at your side, opening the door for you again.

He leads you inside, the click of the door shutting behind you echoing in the quiet house. Simon heads to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets. Moments later, he appears with a mug of tea, a small but comforting gesture. He hands it to you, the warmth seeping into your cold hands.

"Drink this. It'll help calm your nerves," he says, his voice gentle.

You take a sip, the familiar taste of chamomile offering a small respite. Simon sits across from you, watching as you try to steady your trembling hands. The silence between you isn't uncomfortable; it's a shared understanding that words might not be enough to mend the damage that's been dealt.

After a while, Simon breaks the silence. "I'll make up the spare room for you. Take your time. We'll deal with everythin' in the morning."

He disappears down the hall, leaving you alone in the living room. You look around his living room, eyeing his front door for a brief moment. You finish the tea and set the mug on the coffee table, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

When you enter the spare room, you find it tidy and pretty bare. The scent of clean sheets and the comforting atmosphere of his home a stark difference from your own. You watch as he double checks the windows to make sure they're locked tight. He also shows you the lock on your own bedroom door.

"Everythin' is secure, 've triple checked it all," Simon states, turning from the window to look at you. His concern is evident in his eyes, and you nod in response.

"Thank you, Simon. I appreciate all of this," you say, your voice quiet.

He moves over to the wall, crouching down to plug a night light into the wall. He taps it a few times to make sure it works. When it flickers on, he grunts, satisfied. Pushing himself up to standing, he walks over to you.

He gives you a reassuring smile. "No need to thank me. 'S the least I can do. You get some rest. 'M right across the hall if you need anything."

With that, he leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him. You make sure to lock the door behind him as he leaves. You crawl into bed, pulling the covers over your weary body, exhaustion settling in.

You close your eyes, hoping that sleep will offer some reprieve. As you lay there, the events of the night replay in your mind. The fear, the vulnerability, and the violation of your home weigh heavily on you. Slight sounds make you jump in fear, and all of a sudden you start to breath heavily. You can't be in here, not alone.

You stumble out of the room, practically falling into the hallway. The dim glow of the nightlight casts long shadows, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Determined, you make your way to Simon's door and knock softly.

The door opens, and Simon appears, concern etched on his face. "Everythin' alright, love?"

You can barely form the words, your voice barely a whisper. "Can't stay in there alone."

Without hesitation, Simon opens the door wider, gesturing for you to enter. His room is dark, all lights off. You step inside his room, tugging your hoodie tighter around your body. You settle onto the edge of his bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to ward off the residual fear.

Simon shuts and locks the door behind him, plunging you both into darkness, save for the slight shine of the moon pouring through between a crack in his curtains.

Simon stands in front of you, looking down with a mix of empathy and concern in his eyes. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need. I don't mind."

"Thank you," you manage to say, the vulnerability in your voice more pronounced in the darkness of the room.

Simon hesitates for a moment before flicking on a small bedside lamp. The soft light casts a warm glow across the room, revealing a space that's both lived-in and comforting. You feel a bit more at ease.

He pulls a chair from his desk and sits across from you, leaving a respectful distance. The silence between you is filled with unspoken words, the weight of the night's events hanging in the air. Simon's gaze is unwavering, and you find solace in the fact that he understands what you need without the need for words.

As the minutes tick by, the atmosphere in the room becomes less tense. Simon breaks the silence, his voice a gentle murmur. "I don't want you to go through this alone. You deserve to feel safe, love."

You manage a weak smile, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, Simon. You really don't have to be doing all of this for me--"

"Don't say that, I want to," he cuts you off gruffly, offended as if you would even suggest that you weren't worthy enough of his care.

His response hangs in the air, and you notice a flicker of something in Simon's eyes—a hint of frustration or something deeper. The unspoken tension lingers, causing you to shift slightly.

"I just... I don't want you to feel unsafe," Simon adds, his voice softer this time. He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, his gaze fixed on yours. "Or alone. Fuckin' hell, if you hadn't been able to get out of there..."

He stops, jaw ticking as he thinks. He can't even say it.

The room feels charged with unspoken emotions, and you sense a vulnerability in Simon that mirrors your own.

"Simon," you say softly, your voice a gentle reassurance, "I feel safe with you."

"I've... 've cared about you for a long time, maybe more than I should," Simon admits, his words hanging in the air like a fragile confession.

The vulnerability in his admission tugs at your heart, and you find yourself pushing yourself up off the edge of the bed, cupping his face in your hands.

"I've cared about you too," you confess, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted.

He looks up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of relief and adoration. Simon's hand reaches up to grasp your wrist lightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

"I never want you to feel unsafe or alone again. I can't stand the thought of somethin' happenin' t' you."

Your heart swells at the sincerity of his words, and you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

The conversation lulls, and for a moment, it's just the two of you in the sanctuary of Simon's bedroom. The emotional exhaustion begins to take its toll, and your eyes grow heavy.

He stands from his chair, grasping your upper arms gently, leading you towards his bed once again. Before he sits you down, he looks at you expectantly.

"Is this what you want?"

"Yes," you nod, "I've never wanted anything more."

With your permission, he lays you down on his bed, following you into the bed with a contained eagerness. He drags you up until you're settled on a pillow. Simon slides into the mattress right next to you, pulling the covers up and over the both of you. You turn on your side to face him, eyes searching his face just before he turns off the lamp, plunging you both into darkness.

Simon's hand brushes against your forearm, seeking permission yet again. You scoot over until you're flush against him, cheeks heating up at the proximity. You feel Simon's warm presence beside you, his hand finding its place on your waist before he pulls you up against him, cuddling you. Simon's fingers trace patterns on your back, a soothing motion that pulls you deeper into relaxation.

"Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need anything, love," Simon whispers, playing with the ends of your hair.

"Thank you," you whisper into the darkness, your voice barely audible but carrying a depth of gratitude.

He tightens his grip on your waist, a silent affirmation that he's here for you, that you're not alone. The warmth of his touch and the gentle rise and fall of his breath provide a sense of security that eases the lingering tension in your body.

. . . 

The morning light begins to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow in Simon's room. As you slowly awaken, the events of the previous night come back to you in fragments. You turn slightly to find Simon still asleep beside you, his features softened by the morning light. His arm is draped protectively over you, and a sense of peace settles in the room. For a moment, you simply revel in the quiet stillness, savoring the moment.

As Simon begins to stir, his eyes meet yours, and a sleepy smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Mornin’," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. The air in the room feels different, more relaxed.

Simon props himself up on one elbow, his gaze searching yours. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I thought I would," you admit, a genuine warmth in your voice. "Still kinda freaked out that people broke in to my apartment, but better."

He nods thoughtfully. "We should probably get up, check in with the police," Simon suggests, but there's a reluctance in his eyes to let go of the warmth of the bed.

You cuddle against him once more, hugging him tightly. His arm comes to wrap around your back, hand splayed across your skin.

"Yeah, we should," you say, pulling away gently as you push yourself out of bed.

"We're goin' together," he tells you. "And I will be installing a new security system in your apartment."

You manage a small smile. "I don't think you understand how much I appreciate you for this."

He sighs as he leads you to his small kitchen. "You never have to thank me for anything, love."

Before you can retort, he turns to you. "Let's get some breakfast in ya. How do you like your eggs?"

[jareaul0ver]

Thinking about Nika and reader getting into a big fight bc reader feels like Nika has been neglecting her and the relationship due to basketball and then Nika trying to get her back ….

wc: 2k warnings: angst to fluff, happy ending!!, nika being a bad, neglectful gf at first, basically all stated in the request pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

Nika had always treated basketball like it was the only thing in her life that mattered. For the most part that was true. Sure, she had her family, but they were back in Croatia and there was only so much she could do with that situation.

Then you came into her life, flipping her world upside down. Sometimes basketball was pushed to the back of her mind when she was with you. She valued the way you could help her wind down after a tough practice, or if they lost a game you knew exactly how to make her forget about it.

But that was all in college. After she got drafted, things started to change. She wasn't getting the same playing time she used to, which greatly affected her mood.

You reassured her after each game that it was just because it was so early in the season, and that you were sure she'd get playing time as everything progressed.

She didn't listen, though. She was out for most hours of the day. At team practices, weight training, and dragging into her own personal time with extra workouts and practice drills.

Her mindset was that if her playing was perfect, she'd get time. But it still didn't help.

At this point, you barely saw her. Even with living in the same apartment, she'd pretty much only be there in the very early morning or very late night, mostly while you were asleep.

Not only was her being in the W affecting her, it was affect you and your relationship with her. She was pulling away from you, whether she realized it or not, and it was hurting you more than she knew.

It was a late night for you. You were working on the final touches of a paper for one of your summer grad school classes, sitting on yours and Nika's shared bed which had felt incredibly empty for the past few months.

She walked through the door, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when she saw you still awake. "What're you doing up?" She said quietly before going over to grab clothes to change into from the dresser.

"Finishing up the paper I've been working on for class," you mumbled. You had mentioned it to her before, as she had caught you working on it in the late nights and early mornings, but it seemed to have slipped her mind.

"Oh," was all she managed before changing into clothes to sleep in.

You sighed and looked up at her. "I've mentioned it to you before, you've seen me working on it before," you said, frustration laced in your tone.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at you. "You don't need to get pissy with me, I just forgot."

"You've been forgetting a lot of things lately, Nika," you let out a shaky breath, pushing your laptop off of your lap and sliding out of bed. "Christ, you almost forgot our anniversary a few weeks ago."

"Sorry I've been busy, I've had a lot on my mind," she said firmly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Nika, all you've been doing is basketball ten times over. Extra training, practice, whatever you can find. You're never home. You're never with me anymore."

She froze for a second before opening her mouth to speak, but you cut her off with the wave of a hand. "Don't even start," you started to raise your voice. "I- no, our relationship has been on the backburner ever since you got drafted! I get it, babe, it's important to you, and it takes a lot of time and effort but-"

Your voice cracked and tears welled in your eyes. "You've been gone, Nika. For months, I've felt like I've been on my own. Sometimes it just feels like I'm in a one sided relationship, like you don't want me anymore."

Nika's face fell at your words, and she felt a pit forming in her stomach. She stepped towards you, bringing her hands up to cup your face, wiping a tear with the pad of her thumb. "I- I'm sorry, bebo, I don't want you to feel that way, but-"

You scoffed and stepped back. "There's always a but, isn't there," you said flatly. With a shake of your head you turned towards the bedroom door. "I'm sleeping on the couch. Less room for it to feel so empty," you spat with a shaky voice before leaving the room.

The door shut and Nika looked down at the ground, her hands now on her hips as she stood there, letting every word you said sink in.

She realized now that she was losing you, that you were slipping away, and it was all her fault. She had been so absorbed by basketball that she forgot about you.

There had never been a day in her life where she felt worse. Not when she couldn't play because of her visa issues, not when she hurt her ankle for the first time, not even when she had to leave her family back in Croatia to play basketball.

No, this was the worst day of her life. Her coming to the realization that she might wake up tomorrow and you aren't in the apartment. All your things could be gone. You could block her number, her socials, erase her from your life completely, and it would be her fault.

Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of this. The idea of you leaving is her worst fear, and she would do damn near anything to make sure it wouldn't happen.

So the next morning she checked the couch, immensely relieved that you were still sleeping somewhat peacefully out there. Although she wasn't with you, she was glad she still had you.

Before she left for practice with the team, she wrote a small note for you and left it in your underwear drawer, where she was sure you would see it.

Eventually you woke up, immediately checking the bedroom to see if Nika was miraculously here. You knew she wouldn't be, but it still hurt to see an empty bed.

You had an interview with a possible employer in a few hours, so you got ready. You walked into the bedroom with only a towel covering your body, and opened your underwear drawer, and look of confusion first on your face when you saw the note.

You picked it up and read over it, "I'm so sorry baby, I promise I'm going to make it up to you. Don't make any plans for tonight, I'll be home after your interview. - Love you."

A sigh fell from your lips, but your face softened. You hoped and prayed that she would stay true to her word, this being a turning point in your flatlining relationship.

But you held back from fully believing it, part of you expecting a disappointing outcome.

You finished getting ready for the interview and left the apartment, your mind immediately cleared from everything going on with Nika the second you got into your car.

Nika sat on the couch as she anxiously waited for you to get home. She was wearing a black top with a matching black skirt that you had gotten her for her birthday this year. She had a pair of short black heels to match, and her hair and makeup was done.

You walked into the apartment, your back turned towards her at first as you closed the door, but once you turned around your eyes widened a little.

She stood up and took a deep breath, taking a step towards you. "Hey, how was your interview?"

You blinked a few times before responding. "Oh, um, it went well I think," you said softly.

Nika nodded slightly before turning to the direction of the coffee table and picking up a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. She turned back around and took a few more steps towards you, now leaving you guys only a few feet apart.

"Got these for you, as the beginning of an apology gift, I guess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she held them out.

You looked at her hesitantly before taking them. "Beginning?"

She nodded and stepped forward, almost closing the gap between the two of you. You reached over and placed them on the table near the entrance of your apartment, fully giving her your attention.

"God, bebo, I'm so sorry. For everything. For treating you the way I have been, not being there, forgetting important things. I can't even put it into words how sorry I am," she said with a long breath. "And I know sorry isn't gonna fix it, but I'm trying to, okay? I am."

You stared at her, your face softening a bit at her words. "It's gonna take a lot more than a bouquet of flowers to fix everything, Nika," you uttered, your voice soft but serious.

"I know. Of course it is, but that's not all I have planned for tonight, okay? I- I got us a reservation at that one Italian place you like that's not too far from here. The nice one." Her voice was tinged with desperation, longing to have you back with her, to belong to her again.

Nika told you it was in an hour, so you nodded and went to the bedroom to get ready. It didn't take you long, as all you had to do was touch up your makeup and change your outfit.

Once you came out of the bedroom, Nika was practically giving you heart eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen you like this, all dolled up in a pretty little dress, ready for date night.

She walked over to you, hesitantly grabbing your hands. You let her, and looked up into her soft brown eyes. "You look gorgeous, bebo," she whispered.

You couldn't help but blush a little, that feeling of before you and Nika drifted coming back to fill your senses. Her touch on your hands practically set you on fire. It had been so long since you two actually touched, not just in passing, or snuggling in the middle of the night.

But a long, snug grip that sent flutters throughout your chest.

"You do too," you said softly to her, squeezing her hands gently. She smiled a little and started pulling you towards the door, ready to leave for dinner.

You were returning home from dinner with her. It was almost perfect. You talked and laughed and everything felt like it should again. When you walked into the apartment, you gently tugged on Nika's hand. "We really should talk about everything more."

She faced you and nodded. "Yeah, of course, let's go talk," she gently dragged you over to the couch and sat down, waiting for you to do the same.

You sat down after her, barely leaving any space between the two of you. All it took was a deep breath from the both of you before you spoke, your voice soft. "Tonight was... amazing. It's everything I've been wanting for the past few months and more, but it doesn't fix everything."

She gazed at you intently, absorbing every word you said. "I know, and I don't expect everything to be fixed."

You nodded, appreciating her listening to you. "And I forgive you, because it's really hard not to," you said with a small laugh. "But it's gonna take a while for things to go back to normal. And it's gonna take effort."

Nika hummed softly her hands finding yours again as you spoke. "I don't want things to go back to how they were, you barely being home, pushing me away because you're so zoned in on basketball. I want you. I want my Nika back."

She thought she could cry at your words, seeing the hurt evident on your face, hearing it subtly in your tone as you spoke. "I'm back, baby. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And I'm gonna work every day to prove that to you."

You pulled your hands away from hers to bring them up to her face, cupping her cheeks gently against your palms. "I love you," you whispered.

"I love you," she said immediately, "so much."

You leaned in slightly, gently pressing your lips to hers, igniting a much needed kiss between the two of you. "I'm not going anywhere ever again, promise," she mumbled against your lips.

wow im back hi sorry for not writing for so long, ive had bad writers block and since its the summer ive been doing a lotta stuff keeping me busy, but hopefully im back for good now <3

[poppadom0912]

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.

[megxplryxb]

For you, I would ruin myself

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, mentions of Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to cheating but not really, Mutual pining, Idiots in love, Love confessions, Angst, Heartbreak

Author's notes: Hi lovely people, I'm really sorry I haven't been around lately. Well, who am I kidding, I've been pretty MIA since March. The writers block was kicking my ass and the motivation just wasn't there but I've had so many ideas lately and this one was unfinished in my drafts for way too long so finally got around to completing it over the past few days. I'm not in love with the ending, but I do like that it's not the usual happy ending I always do. Please be kind, I'm a little rusty. x

Another Friday evening, another failed date, Steve thought to himself as he climbed into his BMW with a deflated sigh, leaning back against the headrest. He’d been on three dates in the past month and it was starting to feel a little mundane and pointless. Three different candidates, three different bouquets of flowers, three different venues but none of them had developed into anything further. He was completely used to the routine by now, picking them up from their house, paying for the meal or for the movie, making some awkward conversation before sharing a kiss that made him feel absolutely nothing inside. He’d tell the girl he was sorry, that he didn't see it going anywhere between them before offering her a ride home or pay for a cab and head back to his house alone.

It's not that the girls weren't pretty, or that their personalities were dull or that they’d done anything wrong necessarily. The issue was Steve and his lack of real interest in getting to know any of them romantically, 'cause there was someone else consuming his thoughts and he couldn't get her out of his fucking mind. He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel, cursing at himself for being so off of his game, for being so distracted by someone he knew he couldn't have. Steve used to be a pro at dating, he could get any girl he wanted, whenever he wanted just by clicking his damn fingers. But he wasn't that guy anymore and this time he couldn't get the girl either. The girl he really fucking wanted. Frustrated, he pulled out of the parking lot, turning up the radio before leaving Enzo's and another unsuccessful date in the rear view mirror.

He picked up a case of beer from the liquor store and contemplated going home to drown his sorrows alone. He thought about going to Robin's too but knew she'd chew him out for screwing up yet another date that she had to convince him to go on in the first place. He wasn't even sure his best friend would want to see him after their stupid argument in Family Video earlier, so he decided against the idea and kept on driving.

"Steve, you have to move on from this fixation you have with her. You and her are never gonna happen, it can't happen, you know that right?"

"Yeah I know Robin, alright? Jesus Christ, can you please stop talking about it?”

"Look, I'm sorry ok? I know I'm being a total pain in the ass but I'm just worried about you. I know how you get when you fall for someone and I don't want to see you get hurt or mess up a really good friendship because of–"

"I get it Robin, fuck, I'm trying to get over it, over her, I really am. I've distanced myself as much as I can without making it totally obvious that something’s up. What else do you want me to do, huh?"

"I don't know, Steve! I'm just trying to help. I'm trying to be your friend and make you see that this doesn't have a happy ending for you.”

“You don’t think I know how this ends for me? How it always ends? I’m well aware of how this goes Robin, so please just…don’t, ok?”

Steve felt horrible for fighting with Robin. He felt like shit for taking his frustrations out on her but she just wouldn't stop talking about the situation and the consequences he would face if he ever acted on his feelings. He already felt bad enough about it, he didn’t need her reminding him every five god damn minutes that he couldn’t have the thing he wanted the most. Of course, he'd apologise to her tomorrow with ice cream and chocolate along with the promise of being her personal chauffeur for the next month straight because deep down he knew she was right.

After a while of driving around, Steve found himself at the entrance of Forrest Hills trailer park. His fingers dancing on the steering wheel as he bit his lip, thinking about whether or not he should just keep going. Eddie had been on his ass lately about never seeing him, wondering if he'd done or said something to piss Steve off, trying to arrange a boys night so they could catch up but Steve kept putting him off until the metal head eventually quit asking. Christ, Munson wouldn’t want to hang out with him ever again if he knew the reason why Steve was avoiding him in the first place. But Robin was right, he had to get over it and cutting himself off from everyone wasn’t going to help anything.

"Fuck it." Steve muttered, as he drove through the gates and made his way into the trailer park, hoping he wouldn’t regret his decision later on, praying it wasn’t a total mistake coming here.

The gravel crunched under his tyres as the car came to a halt outside of Eddie's trailer just as the sun had finally set on the little town of Hawkins, Indiana. Switching off his ignition, he grabbed the case of beer before stepping out of the car, walking around to the back of the trailer but quickly noticing that neither Waynes car or Eddie’s van were anywhere to be found. He could however, see a flicker of light escaping through the curtains and hear the chorus of Shout by Tears for Fears coming from inside, causing his heart to beat a little faster, skin feeling a little hotter, cause he knew who was inside and he needed to get out of there immediately.

"Shit." Steve whispered, hurrying back to his car, placing the box of beer onto the passenger seat hoping his presence hadn't been noticed by the one person he had been trying so desperately hard to stay away from all this time. But the creak of the trailer door opening behind him told him he was already too late as he turned around to see you standing there, arms folded, head tilted, smiling at him.

"Hey stranger, long time no see."

Steve swallowed hard, instantly feeling more butterflies in his stomach just from seeing you for the first time in weeks than he had from any of his dates in the past month. He didn’t know how it was possible but he was certain you’d gotten even prettier in his absence. Your usual flowy hair clipped back into a messy bun, sun kissed legs on show in your tiny denim shorts, finished off by an oversized Metallica T-shirt that most definitely belonged to your boyfriend...To Eddie, one of Steve's best friend’s. The one and only reason he could never tell you how he really felt.

“Yeah, I guess it’s been a while, huh?” He chuckled nervously as you made your way down the steps, towards his car.

“A while? It’s been forever. I think I was even starting to miss you.” You tease, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into the warmest of hugs. His whole body tenses with the feeling of you so close to him and he swore his heart stopped for a moment as he took in your scent. You were ice cream on hot summer days, cocoa on cold winter nights and everything he knew he could ever want or need.

It wasn’t unlike you to hug him, you’d always been affectionate and touchy but it felt different this time, like you needed it as much as he did. So he finally relaxed his body, allowing his arms to find their way around your waist, chin resting on your head, keeping you close for what felt like several minutes.

“Yeah, I missed you too.” So much, he thinks to himself as you eventually break apart.

“So, beer huh? I take it you were looking for Eddie?” You ask, noticing the box in Steve’s BMW.

“Uh, yeah…he’s been asking me to come hang out for a couple of weeks but I’ve just been super busy with work and stuff. Finally had some free time, so I thought I’d take him up on the offer before he completely disowned me.” Steve jokes as you let out a small laugh.

“Poor guys been like a lost puppy without you. Honestly, its getting embarrassing. I’m clearly not enough for him.” You sigh sarcastically as Steve shakes his head.

“I highly doubt that honey.” He replies truthfully, voice in the back of his mind screaming that you’d be enough for him. That you’ve always been enough for him.

You look away from him, placing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, hoping he hasn't caught the slight tint of pink creeping onto your cheeks with his tiny compliment.

“Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but he’s playing with the band at the Hideout tonight.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip.

“That’s cool, I totally should have checked first anyway. I’ll catch him another time.” Steve replies, playing with his car keys.

“Y’know, Eddie’s not the only one who likes beer or do you just not want to hang out with me?” You smile, raising a brow and god he knows he’s in trouble. He knows he should shake his head, make up some excuse and run for the hills but he can’t. Not when you’re looking at him like that, like you want him to stay and fuck he really wants to.

“Of course I want to hang out with you, I just don’t want to be imposing.” He explains as you scoff.

“Imposing? Please, I could really do with a break, I’ve been cleaning this place all day for Wayne before he gets back into town tomorrow. Eddie’s a total pig, I swear he’s lucky he’s cute.” You laugh but Steve doesn’t really laugh with you. He hates that you think Eddie is cute, hates the way you say his name. Hates that he has no right to feel so jealous but he can’t help it. Because it was Steve’s own fucking fault for not telling you how he felt months ago, when he had a real chance to make you his before Eddie went and beat him to it.

“So, are you coming in or?” You ask, eyes wide as you start walking back towards the trailer.

This was Steve’s chance to run, to get into his car and go home like he’d originally planned to do. Why hadn’t he just done that in the first place? Why did he think coming to Eddie’s was such a good idea and how the fuck had he ended up alone with you? Robin would fucking kill him if she could see him now. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here. You should have been working in the Hideout like you did every Friday night since you left Family Video and him behind all those months ago.

“Steve?” You call again when you don’t hear his footsteps following you.

“Huh? Oh, yeah sorry, I’ll just grab the beers.” He finally answers, smiling at you as you nod happily, heading back inside.

Steve curses at himself, knowing he couldn’t leave now, it’d be too obvious. You were his friend just as much as Eddie, the only problem was, he didn’t want Eddie like he wanted you.

When he finally joined you inside, you were rummaging through a drawer to find a bottle opener that Wayne kept in there for safe keeping. Steve tries to look anywhere but at you as his body stood stiff in the doorway while you made your way towards the couch, plonking your tired body down. He could tell you’d been cleaning all day, the trailer unrecognisable from the usual mess Eddie had it in. Fresh hoover lines apparent on the spotless carpet, laundry washed and folded, pillows puffed, trash emptied and the countertops cleared and wiped down. There was even a scent of lavender in the air, compared to the usual smell of motor oil and cigarettes.

“You can sit down you know?” You smirk as Steve smiles, shaking his head.

"Sorry, I was just momentarily distracted by the fact that I could actually see the floor in here for once.” He jokes, placing the alcohol on the side table as you giggle, feeling him slump down beside you, letting out a heavy breath.

“Hi.” Steve smiles, turning his head towards you, resting his eyes on your porcelain face. It’s unfair how good you look right now, so effortlessly beautiful with your hair up and no make up on. Christ, you could be on the cover of any magazine, he thinks to himself.

“Hi.” You smile back, nudging your knee with his playfully and Steve’s thankful you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating just from the slightest bit of contact.

“Beer?” He offers, ripping open the box to grab two bottles.

“Thought you’d never ask, Harrington.” You tease, taking one from his hand, passing him the bottle opener.

“Cheers.” He grins nervously, clinking his drink with yours before he takes a large swig.

Forty minutes pass and you're both already on your second drink, catching up and talking as if no time at all had gone by. It had always been that way between you both, effortless and easy and Steve knew it was dangerous territory. He so quickly forgot all of the reasons why he shouldn't be here with you right now when your leg was brushing against his own, your head thrown back in a fit of laughter as he recalled an embarrassing story about Keith from the previous week and Christ, he had missed your infectious laugh.

He had missed everything about you.

He couldn't remember the last time you two had been alone together, it had to have been a couple of months at least and it felt nice that he had you all to himself for a little while without any distractions. Some of his favourite times had been your shifts together at Family Video, making each other laugh non stop, discussing the latest gossip of the town while stacking the shelves, taste testing the new candy when Keith left early like he always did and making up little games to play on nights where the hours just seemed to drag. You brightened up the store every time you walked in, made work fun and bearable and he looked forward to any shift that he got to spend with you.

That was until you went and left of course.

Steve had been utterly devastated the day Robin told him you'd given your two weeks to Keith, confused as to why you hadn't told him yourself and a little hurt that he was the last to know. He remembers Eddie coming to pick you up on your last day, a shit eating grin on his face now that you were going to work at the Hideout, meaning he'd get to see his new girlfriend way more while Steve got to see you much less. He had to clench his fists as he watched you walk out the door with Eddie, forcing a smile as you looked over your shoulder, giving him one last look before waving goodbye with tears in your eyes. He wanted so badly for you to change your mind, wanted to beg you to reconsider but Robin reminded him that it was for the best, hoping it would give Steve the time he needed to get over you.

“Y’know I was really starting to worry about you, was even thinking about setting up a search party.” You giggle, taking Steve away from him thoughts as he rolls his eyes playfully.

“I’m flattered you were so concerned about me.”

“I’m serious! I kept asking Dustin about you but he said he hadn’t seen you much either.”

“Well if you hadn’t left Family Video to go work with your boyfriend, you’d still see me everyday.” Steve responds in a tone that’s half teasing/half bitter and he winces seeing how taken aback you are by his comment

“Eddie’s not the reason I left, Steve.” You reply, pressing the bottle to your lips. If only he knew the real reason.

“Oh come on, why else would you leave? I can’t imagine it was for the scenic views or massive wage increase.” He scoffs sarcastically as you avoid his gaze.

“It was just time for me to move on.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip, wishing he would drop this topic.

“What do you mean? I thought you liked working at the Video store?” He quizzes, confused by your answer.

“I did, I loved it there but I just needed a change.”

“But that doesn’t make any—”

“Steve, can we please drop it?” You beg, your lips turning downward in a frown as you fidget with the hem of your boyfriends t-shirt.

“Yeah—yeah sure, sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole about it, it’s just that…I miss you. I mean, we miss you, Robin and I.” He swallows hard as you smile at him, your cheeks turning hot at his words.

“I miss you too, Steve. Both of you.” You reveal before a silence falls over the room for a moment.

"Are you hungry? You wanna order a pizza or I’m pretty sure there’s potato chips in the cupboard if you want some? You ask, finally easing the tension between you.

"I'm good. I had dinner in Enzo's a while ago.” Steve mumbles.

"Ah, I thought you were a little too dressed up just to come here and get drunk with Eddie. Were you on a date or something?" You question, raising your brows suspiciously at him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

"Third one this month." He sighs, taking another sip of beer, completely missing the subtle hint of jealousy that flashes across your face momentarily.

"Wow, three dates huh? You must really like her." You force a smile, taking a drink from your own bottle as he huffs and shakes his head.

"Oh, it wasn't with the same girl. I meant three different dates, all equally terrible though." Steve confesses, a heavy sigh escaping his lips and you hate the relief you feel when you hear him say it.

"You really have been busy, no wonder we haven’t seen you lately." You say sarcastically as Steve remains silent, trying to hold himself back from saying everything he wanted to. He wants to tell you the reason you haven’t seen him is because he’s terrified of his feelings for you. That the reason he's going on so many dates is so he can try and move on from you. He wants to tell you that he’s terrified of ruining his friendships because he can’t stop thinking about you, that he can't stand seeing you with Eddie, because every time he sees his friend kiss you, he wants to punch his lights out, ‘cause you're supposed to be his girl. But he's too fucking late. He missed his chance with you and it's something he's going to have to live with for the rest of his life.

“So, what was so terrible about them?" You ask, turning to face him as he sits back trying to think of how best to answer that question. The only real answer he has to give is that they weren't you and nothing after that really mattered. He plays with the paper wrapped around his bottle, tearing it off bit by bit as you burn a hole through his head, waiting for a response. He's too afraid to look at you, terrified that if he does, it'll give him away and you'll figure it out for yourself, that he's completely and utterly head over heels in love with you.

"I uh, I guess none of them were really for me." He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the carpet below as you gaze at your friend sympathetically, knowing that feeling all too well.

"I'm sure you'll know the one when she comes along, Steve." You reassure, placing your hand on his knee as he lets out a dry laugh.

"I did." He mutters, taking the last sip from the bottle as you stare at him.

"What do you mean you did?" You question, tilting your head as his eyes widen in panic. Shit. He didn't mean for you to hear that, didn't mean to say it out loud. Had the two beers already gone to his fucking head?

"I– I just meant..." He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you as he thinks about what to say next. How does he get himself out of this? Should he just tell you the truth? Was now the right time to say it? Was being here alone with you a sign that he should just come out and tell you how he feels? Was it worth taking that risk?

"You're talking about Nancy, right?" You frown, releasing a heavy sigh as he contemplates how to respond. His stomach is sick that you think he still cares for Nancy in that way, he hasn't given her a second thought since you came along and took his breath away but maybe it was better for you to think that instead of him ruining his friendship with you, instead of ruining his friendship with Eddie. Because after all, he'd rather have you in his life as a friend than not have you in it at all. That would truly kill him.

"Yeah, I...I'm talking about Nancy." He lies and your heart sinks all over again.

Of course he's talking about Nancy. Robin had told you all about the girl Steve had been in love with for years during your first shift alone with her at Family Video. How she was the only girl he'd ever loved, how he'd changed his ways for her in High School and how he still wanted a whole brood of mini Harrington's with her even though she’d broken his heart. When you eventually did meet Nancy though, you fully understood what he saw in her. She was beautiful, smart and perfect, everything a guy like Steve Harrington could ever want.

Everything you felt you weren’t.

“Steve, if it’s Nancy you really want, maybe it’s time to just be honest with her?” You suggest, trying to stop yourself from falling to pieces in front of him.

Steve finally lifts his head to lock eyes with yours, your words starting to replay in his mind “maybe it’s time to just be honest with her.”

“How can I tell her how I feel when she’s with somebody else?” He asks, his stomach in knots, his insides twisting as he watches you chew on your bottom lip.

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the same way about you, maybe she’s just really good at hiding it.” You shrug defeated, as he tries to read your face for an answer to a question that’s kept him up late at night. Could it be possible that you have feelings for him too? That you’ve been just as good at hiding them as he has? Maybe even better?

“You…you think she could feel the same way about me?” He asks, finally sitting up, turning towards you fully.

“I guess there’s really only one way to find out.” You reply, forcing a smile, hoping you don’t look too devastated as you stand up to collect the empty bottles from the coffee table. Needing to remove yourself from this conversation fast.

Just as you reach out to grab the first one, you feel Steve’s warm hand softly wrap around yours, holding you in place as he stares at you petrified.

“Steve, what—”

“It’s not Nancy.” He interrupts, a total look of despair on his face as he takes a deep breath. You’re eyeing him in utter confusion as you take a seat beside him again.

“What do you mean it’s not Nancy? I don’t under—”

“I’m in love with you.” He finally confesses, the words falling from his mouth too fast for him to catch, to hold back and bury deep beneath the surface again and for the first time in months he feels like he can finally breathe again. Unfortunately for Steve, the relief only lasts a couple of seconds as panic sets in and he realises that he's just confessed to loving his best friend's girlfriend.

He’s too afraid to look at your face, terrified of what your reaction will be, so instead, he keeps his eyes glued to the floor, ashamed of himself for putting you in this predicament. He's completely fucked everything up.

“I'm sorry, please don't hate me. The last thing I intended to do tonight was tell you that I love you. Fuck, I didn't even think you'd be here, you weren't supposed to be here! I've just been trying to stay away from you hoping that these stupid feelings would just go away you know? But it's been so hard and I missed you and then I show up here looking for Eddie but then I see you after so long and I just couldn't keep it in any longer, it's been killing me for months." Steve rambles, placing his hands over his face as you sit frozen in silence.

"I think it's probably for the best if I go." He says, standing up to leave you alone, grabbing his keys from the countertop.

"So you just drop a bomb on me like that and think you just get to walk away?" You say, finally finding your voice, rising to your feet.

"I just thought maybe you'd want some space or maybe you'd never want to see me again." Steve shrugs. noticing the utter shock on your face.

"We live in Hawkins Steve, we have the same friends. I don't think never seeing each other again is a realistic option." You state, trying to take everything in. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, happy you haven't immediately jumped to cutting him out of your life yet.

"You said it's been killing you for months, how long is that exactly?" You question, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. It's an easy answer for Steve as he knows the very moment he fell in love with you.

“Do you remember the day that really nice old man came into the store looking for a copy of Casablanca?" He asks as you nod your head, recalling it instantly. It's something you'd never forget.

The man had come in on an unusually rainy day in the hopes of renting the movie he and his wife had watched together every year on the day of their wedding anniversary. He told you both of his wife's recent passing after a lengthy battle with an illness and how he had decided to bury their copy of the movie with her, so she could still watch it with him wherever she was.

"You took him for coffee on your lunch break that day knowing he was all alone while I looked for the movie in the back. You let him cry and talk about his wife even though you didn't know her. You gave him the time of day that no one else would have and when I found the movie, you told him to keep it and you took a twenty from your own purse to cover the cost. You told him you hoped one day you'd know a love like theirs and I remember thinking... fuck I'm so in love with that girl." Steve smiles, eyes glassy as you too have to wipe away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

"He still comes in you know? Asks about you all the time, wonders if I ever made a move. Called me a dumbass when I told him I missed my chance." He jokes, trying to make you smile but somehow the whole thing makes you angry.

"If you felt that way about me then, why didn't you tell me? That was months before I was even with Eddie, Steve!" You challenge, folding your arms as Steve runs a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, the timing just never seemed to be right."

"Oh please, we only worked together almost every day for over a year, we hung out almost every single night." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Well yeah but we were never really alone together. There was always someone else around, Keith, Robin, the kids, Eddie..."

"Come on Steve, those are bullshit excuses and you know it!" You argue as he shakes his head.

"It's not like it matters anyway, I mean, it's not like you felt the same way or anything!" He fights back as you stand silent, hand over your mouth, eyes on the floor.

That's when the penny finally drops for Steve.

"Shit, you did feel the same didn't you? You had feelings for me?" He questions softly as you wrap your arms around yourself, nodding a yes. He's been so blind, so stupid. How didn't he see this? How did you hide it so well?

"It's hardly that shocking, is it? I mean you're Steve Harrington, girls have been falling in love with you your whole life." You joke as Steve remains silent. "I didn't want to like you. Christ, when I started working at Family Video I expected to hate you but you weren't what I thought you'd be. You were funny and kind and caring and god, I saw how those kids worshipped you. It was only a matter of time really." You admitted. " There were times that I thought, 'maybe he likes me too' you know? But then Robin told me all about Nancy, how much you loved her, how you'd changed for her and I thought it was game over for me. She was just so perfect, I mean, how could I ever compete with someone like her?"

"There would never have been a contest, it would have been you every single time." Steve whispers, wanting to reach out for you.

"That's why you left Family Video isn't it? Cause you thought I still loved Nancy?" He asks as you nod again.

"I had to try to get over you."

"Did it work?"

"It doesn't matter Steve." You brush off the question, trying to walk away but he catches your hand gently.

"It matters to me."

"I'm with Eddie now. How I feel about you isn't going to change that." You state as Steve heavily accepts your words, however crushing they might be. He would always respect your decision, caring too much about you and Eddie to deliberately ruin your relationship.

"But if you weren't, and I had asked you out back then, would we be together now?" He asks, wiping the tears from your face. You already know the answer in your heart and you know Steve does too.

"Yeah, I think we would be. I know we would be." You assert as a single tear falls down his cheek. "But I can't do that to Eddie, I can't leave him."

"And I would never ask you to, honey. Fuck, I really messed this up." He sniffs as you shake your head. "We both did, Steve." You cry as he holds you close for several minutes.

"I better get going, I'm sure Munson will be home soon." He sighs, reluctantly letting you go, wishing he could keep you in his arms forever. He once again grabs his keys and heads for the front door as you follow close behind.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"I do by the way, I do still love–" He cuts you off, pressing his lips lightly to yours for a brief moment before pulling away when he feels you kiss back, knowing if he'd waited a second longer, Eddie would arrive home to his best friend making love to his girlfriend.

"Please don't say it." Steve begs closing his eyes. "I'm trying to do the right thing here and walk away, if I hear you say that, I don't think I'll be able to leave without you." He whispers as you cup his face.

"Then you better go now because if you kiss me again, I don't think i'll have the strength to stop myself from going with you." You cry as he nods, exiting the trailer, walking back to his car, giving you one last look as he opens the BMW door. He smiles at you through glassy eyes, both of your hearts breaking as you wonder what could have been. Where does your friendship go from here? How are you supposed to forget about this night? How do you pretend that you aren't utterly and completely in love with each other?

"Goodnight honey."

"Goodnight Steve."

[baldursgat3]

so like a week ago I saw a post I can't find again about the idea of like an elf Tav who had grown up with Astarion before Cazador

so here's 4.5k words of that

lightly nsfw but the pants stay on (except in my half finished drafts that I gave up on)

A hog ran out of the bushes and you felt a blade against your neck as the man bodied you to the ground. He hovered over you, dagger pressed to your throat as he leaned in close with a soft smile. "Not another sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours." This was the first time you really managed to get a good look at him. Still, it took you a moment to recognize him. He looked so much older than you remembered and his eyes were blood red. "Astarion?" He was clearly not expecting that. His eyes widened in confusion and panic before he pressed the dagger firmer against your neck, the tip drawing a prick of blood. "How in the hells do you know that?" He hissed. "Who are you?

You stumbled along the beach away from the illithid ship. Your head was pounding and you just wanted to lay down but this was not nearly the time or place. You had to get away from the crash site and, preferably, find a few other survivors to watch your back. The cleric you picked up was fine and all, but you didn't entirely trust her. You were certain you'd need more help than that anyway.

Corpses littered the surrounding area, of humans and mind flayers alike. Not much survived the falling, flaming debris. It wasn't hard to make out a voice over the crackling fires.

You jogged towards the voice, quickly spotting it's owner. A slender elf with white curls that were surprisingly neat for surviving the nautiloid wreck. "Quick! I've got one of those brain things cornered."

That voice was… familiar? Still, you couldn't quite place it and it didn't really matter. If you helped him kill the thing, perhaps you could convince him to join you.

You followed where he was pointing, sword in hand. Really, you should've known better. Or perhaps Shadowheart could've been quicker to alert you?

A hog ran out of the bushes and you felt a blade against your neck as the man bodied you to the ground. He hovered over you, dagger pressed to your throat as he leaned in close with a soft smile. "Not another sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours."

This was the first time you really managed to get a good look at him. Still, it took you a moment to recognize him. He looked so much older than you remembered and his eyes were blood red. "Astarion?"

He was clearly not expecting that. His eyes widened in confusion and panic before he pressed the dagger firmer against your neck, the tip drawing a prick of blood. "How in the hells do you know that?" He hissed. "Who are you?

"You- you died…?" It didn't make sense. You saw them bury his body and everything.

His eyes flicked back and forth, studying your face. You wouldn't be upset if he didn't recognize you, but you weren't exactly sure how you would talk your way out of this in that case.

Fortunately, you wouldn't have to find out. You saw the moment it hit him as he jerked his dagger away from your neck, scrambling to get off of you. "It… can't be. Of all the people… you." He laughed bitterly, stowing the dagger.

Honestly, you weren't exactly sure how to respond to this situation. You couldn't even tell if he was happy to see you or not. So you decided to press on the most concerning issue still. "You died. I went to your funeral, Astarion. What… happened to you?"

You were nearly the same age, you'd grown up together in his family's estate. Your parents were hired hands and you served as a live-in friend for their reclusive son. He was only a few months older than you, so why did he look so much older? So much paler, more exhausted than someone your age ought to be.

On top of it he still looked fucking fantastic. Gods you hated how effortlessly beautiful he was.

His gaze darted between you and Shadowheart, anxiously weighing his options. "Ah, yes, well. You know how it goes, surrounded by adoration and opulence. It all gets to be too much, you fake your death, you flee the country. Standard business really."

That definitely wasn't the truth but clearly he wasn't about to share it in front of Shadowheart. It hurt, finding him like this, though. You were so close as children. It had gotten a little harder as you grew up but you always kept in contact. But he let you think he was dead for 200 years anyway? "Right. Of course. Well. Care to join us?"

~*~*~

It's not like you were still in mourning or anything. He had been a good friend for so long, at times even your best friend, but two hundred years was enough time for you to move on.

You had thought about him from time to time. Fondly remembering stories from your past that would turn into a quiet sadness for the life that was taken from him.

They never had an answer for what had happened to him. He had been murdered, you knew that much. No one ever said how or why, though. Magistrate's weren't exactly beloved and his family held a high enough title there was always the vague threat of assassinations but Astarion seemed like such a strange target.

It was compounded by the fact that nothing ever came of it. No one was ever caught, no political move was made on his grieving family. You would think maybe he'd been jumped, but nothing had been taken from him. Honestly, you never expected to get an answer. Certainly not from the dead man himself.

The two of you were sat in his tent, it had been a few days but what a wild few days they were. Tomorrow you would set out to level the goblin camp but tonight you were going to talk.

"I'm sorry." He started. It kind of surprised you, really. You had been learning over the past few days that the man you had once known was all but gone. The Astarion in front of you now was always bitter and irritated with half the things you did.

"Astarion I swear to Kelemvor, it is not naïve to rescue a twelve year old from a crazy lady with a snake for 'no reason.' The reason is rescuing the twelve year old from a snake."

"Where did you go? What happened to you?" The apology was nice but really, you just wanted answers. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. His eyes were fixed on the ground between the two of you and he looked so… sad. "I thought about it, about finding you. At first and, only for a moment."

Well that didn't really clear anything up, all right. You kept quiet though, you were smart enough to know when not to push.

"You want the truth? I was captured. Kidnapped by an evil man who turned me into a monster and forced me to do his bidding. I couldn't have told you. I- I didn't want to get anywhere near you. Not like this." 

A picture was beginning to come into focus. Honestly, there had been enough pieces that you had already begun to wonder. "You're a vampire."

"A spawn, yes." He practically spat the word out, scowling at the ground. "He turned me into his little pet. I was to go out and catch him the most beautiful souls I could find for him to feast on. All the while I was starved and tortured just for his amusement."

"Astarion…"

"I don't want your pity. I mean - I do, sort of but- ugh…" He rolled his eyes, leaning back. "You've made this all extremely complicated."

"Why didn't you ever try to find me? I would've helped, I could've tried to get you out of there."

"I… well I couldn't." He glanced up at you, a sad smile crossing his lips. "You would've tried, certainly. And I would've watched him kill you as punishment I'm sure. No, it's quite all right." He waved a hand dismissively, as a perfect, easy grin spread across his face.

You couldn't exactly argue. It's not like you had any idea what you would've been up against. Still, your blood boiled at the very idea of what he must've gone through in your centuries apart. "Well, you're safe right now, anyway."

His face softened at your words, seeming to relax into the very idea of your protection. "I am, aren't I? How strange." His head cocked to the side, an almost calculating look crossing his face. "Would you… care to stay the night?"

~*~*~

You had always had a sort of off and on crush on Astarion, growing up. When you were very small he had told your parents that the two of you were already married, obviously.

As you got older, you had been sidelined pretty hard as the best friend and you took it with grace. You had plenty of other people who caught your eye and it was nice to always have someone you trusted to be there.

There was that one time that he had drunkenly wept into your arms about being the only person he would ever truly love. It would've meant more had he not just gotten his heart broken hours prior, but it did rekindle an old spark in your heart for a solid year.

The two of you had drifted apart as your social circles moved in opposite directions. You never connected with the upper class, he wouldn't be seen with the rabble. You always kept in touch but, by the time he was murdered captured, you were struggling to keep up with your monthly nights out at the Elfsong.

Right now, though, in this moment? You felt as though you couldn't possibly be closer to another person if you'd wished for it.

Astarion had practically crawled on top of you in his effort to kiss you. One of his hands was tangled in your hair while the other rested firmly against the small of your back. He was colder than you were used to but that wasn't unwelcome. Instead it just sent shivers through your entire body with every touch.

You slowly lowered yourself down to your elbows as he leaned further into you, chasing this kiss like he needed it to survive. The hand in your hair held you firmly against him, not that you had any intention of going anywhere.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, pulling a pitiful little noise out of your throat. He let out a small breath of a laugh as his fingers began to slowly tug your shirt out of your pants. Every move was so delicate and effortless on his part. Gods he was flawless.

He freed your shirt from the prison that was your waistband, pulling back just far enough to whisper a soft "May I?" against your lips.

You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as you blinked up at him. "Only if you return the favor."

"Gladly." A devilish smile crossed his lips as he pulled back, taking your top with him. A moment later, he had his own pulled over his head and both were recklessly discarded.

One of his hands found it's way to your back again. You couldn't help the way you jumped as his icy fingers made contact with your bare skin. His other hand came up to cup your jaw, ever so gently applying just a bit of pressure. Just enough to encourage you to lay back underneath him as he pressed your lips together again.

You went so easily, he was so gentle and sweet and he tasted like vanilla and ever so slightly like copper. He was intoxicating.

Once he had you on your back, his hands began to wander. They trailed ever so delicately over your chest, lighting a fire inside of you as they went. Your own hands were so much more inexperienced. One helplessly pressed flat against his back, the other unwilling to pull away from his curls for even a moment.

He didn't seem to be bothered by how little you were really helping. His hands continued tenderly mapping your body as his kisses began to trail away from your mouth, along your jawline.

You let out a small gasp as his kiss trailed down to your neck and you felt him pull back, just a bit, just enough to look at you. "Now… it is just a thought… it's just that, well, some people are into biting."

"Are you asking if you can drink my blood?"

"Well, only if the answer is yes."

You gently brushed your hand through his mess of curls as you pondered this. "What would it… do?"

"To you? Not much. A bit of dizziness perhaps, nothing out of the ordinary for some good old fashioned blood loss. But for me? I've been living off rats and wild boar for decades. Just a sip from someone as decadent as yourself could probably give me the power of the sun."

You couldn't help but laugh at the blatant flirting, but damn if it wasn't working. "Maybe a bit exaggerated," he continued "But it would make me feel stronger. I could fight better, think clearer. You don't have to-"

"Go for it."

"Oh. Shit really? I still had a whole monologue about not feeling pressured."

"Getting less sexy by the second, Ancunín."

"Gods, shut up." He rolled his eyes, pressing his lips back to yours as you giggled.

You could feel his anticipation now, though. He kissed you just long enough to push you back into the right headspace before his attention turned back to your neck.

He lingered there longer than you expected, tenderly covering you with his kisses. Then, without warning, he pulled back and his gentle lips were replaced by an acute sting as his fangs sunk into one of your veins.

It was a unique feeling, you could say that. You'd been stabbed before but this was different. It was cold. Like the first snow of winter, dark and freezing but glittering like crystals in the moonlight. You heard yourself gasp and felt your body arch up into him as your head tipped back for him.

You could've easily lost yourself in the feeling, just basking in this closeness you had with someone who was so dear to you. You had just enough awareness to feel the dizzy, light headed bliss start to tip towards darkness.

Your grip on his hair tightened, gently trying to tug him back before he got carried away. "Astarion…"

He only let out a gentle moan before seeming to catch himself, quickly pulling away with a small gasp. "Gods…" he wiped away the small trickle of your blood that had escaped his lips, licking it from his fingers as you stared up at him, slack jawed.

"I couldn't have wished for a finer vintage." He crooned as he ducked his head back down to clean the blood from your neck.

Gods, he had your heart about bursting out of your chest. His hands started to wander again as his mouth continued it's assault on your neck. Every touch was so careful and perfect, each one sending sparks flying through you.

He cupped one hand around your neck, gently applying a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding as his mouth moved back to yours. "You're gorgeous, you know? I've always thought so."

You were obsessed already. He was intoxicating, the way his touch felt against your skin, the way his honey sweet words pierced your heart. There was an old version of you that had dreamed of just having him like this.

Here you were, pampered and loved by a man you had adored for so long. Gods, you really never thought you would ever see him again, let alone have his hand down your pants like this. In this moment, the world was nearly perfect. The only thing that mattered to you now was making this boy yours.

~*~*~

You woke up in the morning, a bit sore, a bit disoriented, and very alone. It took a moment to remember why you were in a strange tent. Another moment for you to realize Astarion was gone. You couldn't help the disappointment that bloomed in your chest at that thought. You couldn't blame him, exactly. It's not like the two of you were a thing. Still, it would've been nice to wake up beside him.

You sighed softly, quietly getting dressed in the still morning chill. It felt like early morning, the golden light filtering into the tent and lack of noise from your companions clued you in. Maybe Astarion had run off to feed before the rest of the camp woke up. Maybe he'd hoped to be back before you had gotten up?

No such luck. You pushed open the tent flap to find your vampire quietly staring at the dim embers of your campfire. You had to bite back another sigh as you stepped forward, apparently making enough noise to draw his attention.

His neck whipped around, though he relaxed instantly once he located the source of the sound he'd heard. "You're up early." He said, quietly, turning back to the fire.

"I could say the same."

"I'm always the first one awake." You could hear the eye roll in his voice.

You stepped forward, moving to sit beside him with a small, awkward smile. "And you just had to get away from me?" Don't freak him out, play it cool. You weren't disappointed at all.

He didn't seem to find it funny, though. He just drew his knees up closer to his chest. "I told you. You made things… complicated."

That was weird. Honestly, you had no idea what he meant. "I'm sorry?"

"Not your fault." His voice was flat and unreadable. He'd really changed so much since you last saw him. It made sense but that didn't stop it from hurting.

You missed the man you used to know. Snarky and a bit full of himself. But also shy and awkward and comforting. You recognized many of his old mannerisms but they'd changed. He was bitter, focused on how to protect himself above all else. It made him violent and trigger happy in a way you weren't used to. Quite frankly, it was a little scary sometimes, the amount of joy he took in violence.

"Can I help?" It was all you had really. You couldn't change what had happened to him. All you could do now was try to help.

"Can you help? Sure. If you could just… go back in time, stop yourself from finding me after the nautiloid and let me carry on my merry way, presumably to be murdered by the first person I annoy too much."

"Okay, well, I'm not sure I can do that." You couldn't read him, no matter how hard you tried. "Did I… do something wrong?"

"No, gods, no." He curled up tighter. He looked so… vulnerable. He never did vulnerable. Especially not now. "You're perfect. That's the problem. You made it complicated."

"Astarion, I don't understand."

He sighed, finally turning his head to throw you a small, tired look. "I know. Hells…" You could see the confliction writing itself across his face. "I want to tell you something but you have to swear that you won't hate me for it, I mean it. It's not good, but you cannot hate me."

"I've never hated you, Star." Maybe the nickname was a bad idea. You practically saw it stab him directly through the chest, forcing him to turn away for a moment to collect himself.

He couldn't look you in the eye again, he just stared off to the distance in any other direction. "I know. I mean it though, promise me, please."

"All right." What could he possibly tell you that was worse than 'I spent two hundred years forced to kidnap people to be killed by my master.' "I promise. I won't hate you, no matter what."

You saw him relax a bit, his shoulders loosening. He turned back, just enough to glance at you out of the corner of his eye. "I… Last night, that- it…" It was so rare that he struggled to find his words.

He took another breath, trying to collect himself before turning back to the fire. "I was just… using you. I wish I could say I didn't mean to but- gods, I did. I pushed it that way on purpose. Its all… part of the plan, you know? Seduce you, sleep with you, secure my safety and position in the group with you. It was… easy."

Oh. Well that wasn't exactly great to hear. He was still trying to collect himself, find the right words. You didn't want to interrupt and, honestly, you didn't really know what to say.

"I didn't think about it, I just… did it. Like I had to. I needed to. And by the time my head caught up it was too late. You were already into it, I couldn't just stop."

"What?"

"I mean," He continued quickly, seemingly trying to get ahead of your presumed anger. "It's not like it wasn't good, it's not like I don't… care about you. It's just, it was an instinct. I think."

"Astarion-"

"Please, you have to understand-"

"No, no, stop. Hold on." You saw the panic in his eyes as you interrupted. "Astarion did you not… want to do that?"

The look he gave you was, honestly, almost a little pitiful. "Like I said, you've made this complicated. I don't know. I don't know what I want."

You turned your attention away from him, towards the dying fire in front of you, pausing for a moment to collect your thoughts. "I wish you hadn't done that to yourself." He was right. This was complicated.

He wasn't the same person you had grown up with. Whatever had been done to him had clearly changed him fundamentally as a person.

But, still, you couldn't look at him without seeing your old friend. It was still the same laugh you had known. Still the same smile. You saw it, when you agreed to help the tieflings, the way he cocked his hip out and rolled his eyes. His little mannerisms that still lingered after all this time. He might not be the same man you had known, but you loved him anyway.

"I don't know what happened to you," you continued before he could get defensive. "I don't know what made you feel like you had to go to such extremes just to win affections you've had since we were children."

You saw some kind of spark in his eyes. It was so difficult to read him now, you wanted to get better at that. "I'm… sorry." He sounded so unsure. Honestly, you didn't care for it, he was always so confident. Now, though, he just looked… sad, maybe?

"You don't have to apologize. Astarion," You carefully reached a hand out to cover one of his. "The first thing you did when you saw me was put a dagger to my throat, and I still would've tossed Shadowheart into the ocean if you'd asked me to."

That pulled a startled laugh out of him that you briefly worried might've woken up your companions. Gods you really would do just about anything to see him smile. "You would not have. You're too much of a goody two shoes."

"Maybe." You grinned, giving his hand the smallest squeeze. "Still. I'm just sorry you felt like you had to go that far for my affection."

"I'm not the man you used to know, I'm not blind. I don't know who he was anymore. Up till now, I think I'd forgotten my own parents' faces. But you look at me like you expect me to be him and I don't know how. I can't be what you expect, at least if I could keep your bed warm you'd have reason to keep me around."

"Astarion…" Your hand tightened around his as you scooted just a bit closer. "I was sitting in the Elfsong, a long time ago. At 'our' table, you know? I was waiting for you to meet me and I grabbed a day old copy of the Gazette to read while I waited.

"I didn't even notice at first. There was a headline for one of the articles, 'Magistrate Murdered', but I didn't notice until I got closer to it. I saw your name and it was like the roof caved in over me. I was sitting there, waiting for you to show up, and a shitty, ale stained piece of parchment told me you never would."

You looked up at him with a sad smile before continuing quickly, trying to stay ahead of the guilt you were sure was creeping up in him. "I cried for months over you. And for years after when something reminded me too much of you. Star, neither of us are the same person we left behind, it's been two hundred years. I've been through plenty, and you've been through hell. That's not what matters though."

He looked so small right now. He was nervous and upset and vulnerable. You hated it, you didn't want him to be so anxious with you, gods you wanted him to trust you. "What matters is right now. We're here together. That's so much more than I ever could've dreamed just a month ago. You don't have to earn my trust and love again. And you certain don't have to force yourself to have sex with me to do it. I never stopped loving you, Astarion."

He was still for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, scanning you for ill intent. You watched him cycle through a dozen emotions as he processed what you were saying. Then, almost like a switch flipped, he just melted.

With a choked out sob, he collapsed into you. You wrapped your arms around him as he curled into a ball, practically in your lap. His whole body shook as he quietly cried into your chest. You really did hate seeing him cry but you could feel the tension lifting from his shoulders as you held him tight.

You let a silent prayer fly to whichever god was keeping your friends asleep through this, asking them to keep up the good work. The last thing he needed right now was everyone else seeing him like this, you knew how much he wanted to keep up appearances.

Ever so gently, you lifted a hand to card your fingers through his curls. He curled up just a bit tighter, leaned into you just a bit more. It had been so, so long since the two of you had been this close. You really, truly never wanted it to end.

Eventually, though, he pulled back with an awkward laugh and a hasty scrub of his face. He didn't go far, just enough to sit back and look at you. "Gods… well. That was sexy."

You rolled your eyes, throwing him a soft grin. "You're ridiculous, Star. Come on, everyone'll be up soon. Big day, you know? Let's go kill some fucking goblins."

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #41 | 5.28.24 ๋࣭⭑

It's hot girl (/gender neutral) summer season

HAPPY MAY!!

Hope you're all doing well <3 We're already getting into summer, which is a little crazy to me. The year is flying by! Before I get into what we actually did this month, it wouldn't be a May devlog without our annual Mermay celebration!

Look at those locks. His Ariel/Rapunzel era fr

Since I already had updated Mermay pieces for the Alaris LIs, I decided to do one for our beloved Van this year ^^ Hope you all like it!

For writing this month, I spent a lot of it catching up on Etza edits. Being totally transparent, I wasn't Completely Happy with their route when their draft was finished. But now that I've started the editing process with Wudgey, I'm really excited to see how their route is shaping up!!! We've been fleshing a lot of little interactions out with their route, and I can already see Etza's character really starting to shine with these edits ^^

I've also been chipping away at Kuna'a's route! While it's nowhere near finished, I'm hopeful that this upcoming month will be the month of Kuna'a now that I don't have a bunch of releases I'm trying to balance. His route is also one of the ones whose outline is more fleshed out (Druk and Etza I would say were the least fleshed out, which might be why they also took a bit longer). So I'd love to see Kuna'a's first draft complete/almost complete by the next devlog!

This month, I had to dust off my art skills tbh LMFAOIJSDF. It's been.... a WHILE since I've made CGs since I've been in the writing and coding dungeon for so long. So most of this month's art updates are me getting tilted from redrawing an ugly sketch over and over.

I DID manage to get the Van Mermay piece out. And I also was able to sketch out Kayn's Tragic End CG; that leaves only one CG that has to be sketched out! Currently, six of their CGs are finished, two need to be rendered, and one needs to be drawn still.

And since Kayn's CGs are mostly done, I've started drawing Fenir's. I was actually able to finish one because I basically Locked In when I made it, so here is a sneak peek!

Kisses his little pink nose

You might notice there's not toooo many updates on this month's devlog. The reason for that is because this month, I spent a lot of it recovering both mentally and physically. April shenanigans and those back-to-back releases took a lot out of me, and after going full speed basically since this year started, I learned I REALLY needed a break. That coupled with the concussion I got made it so that most of this month was focused on recovering and then getting back into the groove of things.

Another thing I tried to focus on this month was finding a balance in my workflow. Going into this month, I felt like I was on the verge of a mental breakdown almost every day, in large part because I have a lot of big things I'm trying to accomplish this year. Between finishing my dissertation, Alaris, and a personal big event that I have to plan, I have a lot on my plate this year, and it's made it easy to get overwhelmed as the months pass by. So I wanted to find a balance between all three that didn't make me feel like I was also falling into insanity. After talking to beloved Wudgey of @herotome fame, I've started adopting a schedule that gives me enough structure and flexibility to feel like I'm making progress without going crazy and getting lost in the sauce.

While it's still early in the process, I'm really happy with the balance I've hit, and I'm feeling much more like myself now compared to a month ago!

I caught up on quite a few things in my backlog this month, which made me happy ^^ I always like to learn from and support other devs, so finally being able to return to that helped with the recovery process <3

I don't have any actual fanart pieces, but there are a couple of games I'd like to highlight!

First of all, of course I must talk about our hot girl (/gender neutral) summer cross-promo. If you haven't checked out these games, I can't recommend them enough!!

Links to each game can be found on the Alaris Game page under the magic and mystery otome section!

Specifically, Save the Villainess, The Good People, and Thorn for the Villain are amazing games if you're into thriller/political games layered with mystery

The Silent Kingdom (which I played recently and is AMAZING) and Dual Chroma (Otojam 2023 ALLY) have added mechanics of RPG for exciting action-adventure fantasy stories

Lost in Limbo, Obscura, and Snow White Ashes are BEAUTIFUL dark fantasy games. I've played all three of these and they have some of the most beautiful writing and visuals... BIG FAN OF ALL OF THEM.

Mask Beyond Lies and Sigh of the Abyss have that epic fantasy adventure appeal to them, in a way that I think is similar to Alaris! And Pearlglow Cafe (another Otojam 2023 ALLY) is a very lighthearted and charming game for those of you who like the comfy vibe that most of my stories have!!

Some other games that I played are Favor (@favorvn) by beloved @concreteparasite which is SOOOOO stylish. If you've played Binary Star Hero by Connie, you can expect that same stylish, dark, sultry vibe from Favor. If you haven't checked out either of those games by Connie, I can't recommend them enough, especially if you like yanderes. There is so much aesthetic and atmosphere to them!

I also played Where Winter Crows Go by @prikarin who is a VERY talented developer (and one I'm sure many are familiar with). I had a lot of fun romancing Crowe and both the MC and him have such strong personalities, it was so fun seeing their dynamic!!!! The CGs were also made by anta, who is the dev behind Thorn for the Villain, and they're BEAUTIFULLLLL. Each one has so much style and rly has a professional look to them. Can't recommend enough if you haven't played already ((heads up that it is another yandere game for those who can't do yandere!))

Okay I've yapped enough. If you've made it this far, you are god's strongest soldier LFMASLDIFJ. See you all next month with hopefully some exciting progress!

[copperbadge]

I was making breakfast and listening to an episode of Just King Things this morning, which is a podcast I do recommend -- two very smart English teachers are reading the books of Stephen King in publication order and discussing them. This could go extremely awry except they're both highly conscious of his failings as well as his skill, so they do really well handling a lot of his less salutatory content.

They've hit the point in King's ouvre (this episode was about Hearts In Atlantis) that follows his recovery from the car accident that very nearly killed him, where he was struck by a van while out walking. One of them pointed out that it seems as though he came back from nearly dying determined to write the wildest shit imaginable and only write what he wanted, which struck a chord in me this time despite having listened to this episode before. Perhaps because I was thinking about my own writing and where it's going in the short term (there are a couple of short stories I want to do that I don't quite have a way into yet). I generally don't think about the drift of my creativity in the long term because when I do I usually draw the wrong conclusions.

I don't really classify my life, the way some people who've had high-impact injuries do, as before-TBI and after-TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury -- the fairly severe concussion I had in January of 2020). For one thing, given I had to cancel a trip to NYC because of it, it may have saved my life; I almost certainly would have caught COVID as someone with known lung issues in New York at the time. For another, the TBI was way scarier to almost everyone else; for me it was just one more dumb injury I gave myself and I didn't even remember most of it so it hardly registered. I used to open the story of it with a joke about waking up not remembering going to bed the night before, but nobody ever found it funny.

It's true that there are changes it wrought in my life, though. Even practical stuff like making sure my living space doesn't have tripping hazards and continuing to wear a fitbit even though I don't really need to (the fitbit told us, the morning after, exactly when the concussion happened, because it registered a heart-rate spike when I fell). For weeks after, I had to move slowly and put off making important decisions because I couldn't trust my physical or intellectual judgement; I didn't even jaywalk in my own neighborhood because I couldn't be sure I was judging the cars' speeds properly. For about a year after I had periodic post-concussion syndrome which basically just slammed me back into concussion space, which wasn't painful or upsetting but was definitely inconvenient.

And it's also undeniable that my writing shifted after the injury. It's not necessarily because of the injury, since my initial recovery from the TBI and the declaration of quarantine happened at roughly the same time, and anyone who tells you that a years-long global pandemic didn't impact their artistic expression is selling you a line. But the last thing I wrote before the TBI was the first draft of Six Harvests, and aside from the Six Harvests publication draft, which had fairly minimal changes, almost all that I've written has been blue-sky, light-hearted, PG-rated romance. It's been on my mind that I've been writing different subject matter from what I used to, but the timing of it didn't strike me until just recently.

I don't mind, really. I love fandom and I support fanfic in whatever expression it comes, but I'm also happy writing my own stories. While I'm aware it's been years since I've meaningfully written fanfic, it doesn't bother me per se, as long as I'm writing. It bothered me much more when I could write fanfic but not original fic, especially in those last few awful months at my last job. I'm proud of the literary and non-genre fiction I've written in the past, but it's also much more trying and frustrating to write at times, so I'm enjoying having a different sort of challenge that feels more fulfilling in the process. I'm sure at some point I'll go back to literary fiction -- there are ways in which it's hard to avoid turning the later Shivadh novels into literary fiction, being honest -- but for now I like what I'm writing, and I'm writing primarily to please myself and without regard to what's necessarily rational or linear.

Just struck me, is all, that it's by far the most noticeable major shift in my work. I do sort of wonder what will be next.

[queenie-avenue]

One lump or two lump of sugar?

💌 ⤻ THE BARISTA, AKIMITSU MINORU

—> you're the cream in his coffee.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, poisoning drinks, mentions of death, mentions of fantasising of murder, posessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour, set in the united states, reader is implied to be not japanese but could just be read as cultural differences

notes: I'm on holiday, but I've had this in my drafts for a while so feast! I will be back next week with more content!

💌 ⤻ archives.

You had been coming to neko no ashi for a few months by now. It was a small café on the side of the street where you lived that had grown popular recently thanks to just the vibe of the café, but as well as the cute man manning the counter and making the coffee. You had been coming there since day one, so you were honestly happy for the owner; he deserved the recognition.

The adorable little cat-shaped bell rang as you entered the quaint little café with a smile. "Hi Minoru." You smiled and waved at him. Both of you were on a first name basis, which may have not seemed like a lot, but it was crazy to think about considering Minoru's Japanese origins. Rarely did couples even refer to each other with their first names at times, but that could just be Minoru assimilating to the American culture.

"I'll take a latté. Something simple today." You smiled at him as you checked your phone, waiting for your date to arrive.

Minoru nodded and cashed in your drink, took your money, and went towards the coffee-making machine, your steps subtly following the barista; liking to always see how your coffee is made, from tampering the ground up beans to the way the milk is steeped.

Just as you were in the midst of admiring Minoru's craftsmanship, he spoke up. "You look beautiful today." He smiled as he steeped the milk.

You, of course, blushed. Neko no ashi had gone viral just because of his good looks. They weren't conventional, but they drew people in because of how soft and beautiful he looked. "Thanks, I got a date today."

He twitched, but you didn't notice.

"Really?"

"Yeah, my friends are egging me on to find someone, you know?" You spoke to the barista sheepishly, a bit embarrassed by the fact all your friends were already dating, and you had barely managed to even take a dip in the dating pool. "He seems like a cute guy, though."

"What does he look like?" Minoru responded eerily fast.

"Tall, I guess? With brown hair and blue eyes. He has glasses." You shrugged, you weren't the best at describing people.

"Fun, I hope you have a good first date." He replied, sliding the coffee over to you. As usual, the signature cat was imprinted using the milk. There was even a cute little heart shape beside the cat.

"Looks like the cat is wishing me a happy first date, too." You smiled warmly before walking away towards an empty seat, waiting for your date to show up.

"...yeah." He replied after you left.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Your date went okay. It wasn't phenomenal, but he seemed nice so far. Just then, he froze up in place.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked the guy seated in front of you as he lunged over the seat. He quickly apologised and ran out of the cafe into the street, his face green as he ran towards the nearest place that had a toilet available for him to barf into.

"Oh dear," Minoru commented, wiping his hands as he strolled on by. "I hope he's okay." He commented as Minoru began to clear up his cup of coffee, eyeing you like a hawk as you looked so concerned for him, barely paying any attention to your loving barista.

"If anything, I can accompany you too." He offered as he threw out the evidence.

"Here's a coffee for you. Oh, don't worry, it's for free. Just for you, [y/n]."

[that-left-turn]

Do you actually think that us making noise on social media can make any difference? Are people likely to be listening? And will it really have any impact on decision-making?

The studio's marketing department keeps an eye on social media and depending on the show, there might also be a strategist attached to that specific show. Showrunners are familiar with their own fandoms too. They need to understand their audience to make money for the studio and to write a story people enjoy watching. Despite recent appearances, screenwriters don't want to alienate fans.

Character arcs can start out as one thing when breaking the story and over the course of production, it'll end up being something very different. In addition to the pre-writing phase, a script goes through many, many drafts. There are revisions. Things change as late as on the set while shooting a scene. Feedback on the released season always figure into pre-production of the next one.

The Caryl fandom made enough noise before to get Melissa back. Despite what Norman says, she wasn't attached to the current iteration of the spinoff "before the first script was even written." She wasn't always coming back. Carylers made that happen. As you can plainly hear in sound bites and interviews, at least three out of four EPs aren't overly enthusiastic about having her there to ruin their art project.

So yes, saying that you want an inclusive title for Carol and equal billing for Melissa (or a change of showrunner) can make a difference. AMC has spent a lot of money advertising to the audiences the stooges would prefer to have for the show, because the studio thinks Carylers are a sure thing. All the fandom enforced positivity in the months leading up to Zabel's SFX interview told them that you guys will watch anything, no matter how bad, so it was cheap to throw crumbs at you with #TWDCaryl and tag lines that didn't amount to anything.

After all the noise when it was announced that Melissa was no longer part of the spinoff, AMC realized they had to bring Melissa back onboard or they wouldn't have enough viewership. They just expected you to be happy with Carol being there, doing stunts and they could attract other viewers with a nunmance and the stoic hard-boiled hero with man pain. (I assume that's how these arcs were pitched to the studio to get an okay.) If you don't speak up, there's no finger pointing to these mediocre white men, identifying what's wrong and the studio won't do anything.

I've seen some pretty appalling behavior during my time, but the blatant and brazen disrespect Zabel and Nicotero show the audience is something in a league of its own. All the fans, whether they ship or not, deserve better.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Stolen Child: A Much Needed Screaming Fit

Okay, so, as I said earlier - I'm fine. The story's fine. I'm not angry at anyone about anything or shouting at or accusing anyone of anything or any of that sort of thing that I might come across as somehow because I'm shouting and only sort of semi-coherently. I'm just shouting because I need to shout.

Basically, I've been feeling increasingly just…tired and tense? The temperature spike this weekend did not help at all, since I am not a heat person and it narfs my sleep. And my brain finally phrased last month as "I didn't have a single day off in August because every time I wasn't at work I was some stripe of not-feeling-well", at which point the rest of my mind and body went "YES EXACTLY!" and doubled down on the exhaustion and anxiety. I also have another routine medical appointment next Tuesday and something going on with my hand that looks kinda like ringworm, but doesn't act like ringworm (and how would I have picked up ringworm there?), which I will need to make another appointment for. Which means I really need to have a good, old fashioned, overstimulated three-year-old level melt down about something I care about, but that is not ultimately important to the universe and then go…I dunno. Maybe eat some ice cream and take a nap. Definitely with the napping.

Since Stolen Child is kinda the Big Craft Community Craft Thing right now and ranting about it could, conceivably, generate some useful dialogue which always results in Happy Brain Chemicals (useful right now!), we're going with that one. So if you feel like reading through the flailing mental health fail rant and giving advice, observations, feedback, or just patting me on the head and saying "Don't forget to breathe, dear. Air is important", go right on ahead. If you don't, eh. Not your job. Feel free to keep scrolling.

And now! Here we go! Ready, set - MELT DOWN!

This right here? Is a great comment. It's a lovely comment. I love informative comments like this! There's only one problem with it:

I SERIOUSLY NEEDED THIS INFO BACK WHEN I WAS PLANNING THE ORIGINAL STORY!

See, back in 2017, when I was first plotting this whole thing, my plan was to have him wind up…not heir. I seriously think he'd be happier doing like Tom and Henry and living at Downton, but running a clock shop somewhere and letting Mary run the estate and George be the heir. Thing is, I didn't know that was possible just like that. I hadn't made any of my UK fan-friends at the time (heck, I don't think I had this account yet?). As I have mentioned a million times, I fail at research, although I have been slowly getting a bit better with help. So at the time I thought that an Earl's son became the heir, no questions asked, and no options unless they abdicated which was fully what I intended on having Thomas do after a bit of trying and getting a headache and having him and Mary both unintentionally-but-avoidably stomp all over each other's toes. Then I started rewatching (didn't make it through season one because I have officially hit the 'can't really watch things on my own' stage) and was immediately reminded that Matthew didn't have a choice but to be heir. Oh! Oops! Guess Thomas can't abdicate! Which is how we wound up with the current draft.

And this comment.

Now, I have no reason to disbelieve the statement that they don't need to recognize Thomas, but I can't think of why my UK friends wouldn't have pointed it out at some point, except that I did always call it the Thomas-as-Heir fic which could have lead to the concept that heir was my desired end game. Or perhaps it was one of those things that just didn't get questioned because subconsciously they thought it was my desired end game. Or maybe something else perfectly logical! I mean, there are reasons it could have happened, but my brain is not braining good right now, so. Point being, I didn't know and I'm still not sure and this firmly falls outside of my 'things I can comfortably research'. If it were modern, sure! But history?

Seriously, my researching lessons in school extended to 'go to the library and read a book' and stopped. There was nothing about how to gauge how trustworthy the book was, or if there was, I didn't learn it because I moved through three school districts (five if you count college and uni) and wasn't in the right district at the right time. Given how obvious it is that there are a lot of history books out there that straight up lie (and I don't just mean the school texts. I've tried to teach myself history in recent years and wound up straight up calling bull shit on several books), this leads to massive trust issues. I asked at my local library if they had a research librarian on staff and bless his heart, the fellow I was talking to didn't even know what that was. There's another library nearby that is bigger, but I keep forgetting that it's part of our library system now and honestly I don't even know how to drive there and don't like driving in that area anyway and I'm not even sure the busses will take me there in a reasonable manner given public transport in this area. I know I've heard of a couple other tricks over the years that I've carefully noted down in places I've forgotten about so that I could reference them later.

…yeah.

And if it is true (which I have every reason to believe it is), what then? I've already set up the entire story to have Thomas be recognized as heir! I mean, I could put it on hold and rewrite the ending. There are a couple of scenes that would be easy, but others would be straight up impossible. I'd also have to lose at least three scenes that I've been looking forward to sharing and that people would love, and I don't know what I'd replace them with, and I'd have to rewrite the dinner scene (*straight up cries at the thought*), and I am a slow writer, so I have no idea when it would be done! I kinda hate the idea of telling everyone "We're going to be a chapter a week!" and then three chapters later going "Haha, just kidding! Indefinite hiatus while I fix the entire plot!" Especially since right now reader comments are definitely my primary 'happy chemical' source and I need that! On the other hand, I really, really love the idea of this being a one shot and not having to figure out what happens next! But it might not get done for another ten years if I try that!

If I do stick with him as heir, it seems like people would know that not recognizing him was an option, so I'd still need to do some rewriting to explain why he winds up heir! And why would he? The only thing I can come up with given my current setting is Cora pitching an ever loving (dignified, restrained) fit over the idea of not acknowledging him and he and Robert just going "OKAY OKAY WE YIELD!" which will still take some rewriting, but a lot less (I think I can keep the rewrites ahead of the posting schedule for the most part maybe?), and will still leave me figuring out where we go from here, but might work as a decent compromise?

Either way, I have to figure out what I'm doing before I post next week's chapter! And all my brain wants to do is melt into a puddle of goo for a month! The idea of trying to research or plot or anything like that just makes me want to sit in the shower and cry! I WANT A MONTH'S VACATION FROM LIFE, DAMN IT ALL!

Edit: I now have an appointment to have my hand looked at this Wednesday.

[x-birdsong-x]

Curious what you have to say about Adams

Edit: speed-rewrote/rearranged this at 10pm in a burst of anxiety-driven rambling because my coursework started up again. posted it as is because i probably need to take a break and it's been in my drafts for a few weeks. there's not really an ending here this is one big post with me rambling about my underdeveloped blorbo

I've rambled at my buddy @/willowpelt about Adams for weeks now n I think any of my House moots know how very autistic I am about her,,,,

Adams is stubborn. And petty. And sheltered. She's short-tempered and avoidant and nowhere near as trusting as she likes to think/say she is. She does not make it easy to get along with her.

Her moods are about as reactive as early-season Chase, the closest any later character ever gets to being similar to that; the smallest thing can set her off and she's snapping at everyone like a cornered cat for the rest of the day (god knows what made her angry in the first place half the time). She can get physically destructive when she's angry enough and refuses to get physically destructive when she's angry enough until her upgraded dad tells her to and gets her a rage room to destroy with a baseball bat. Her reaction to House asking if she's still angry before that is to shut up and stare at him. She swings between Fight and Freeze depending on the situation. The one time she reads House even mostly correctly is when she tells him he took the first deal anyone offered him Because He Wanted To Punish Himself. The only time she even near-successfully lies to House (or Chase) is when she is lying about her family, and Adams is Not A Good Liar. She can not lie to House or Chase or even Foreman to save her life.

She's completely Insane in ep 1 and is drastically toned down after that for literally no reason -- She gets attached to House before he gets attached to her and within two minutes of him calling her a dumbass she decides he's her Free Dad Upgrade and she'll never listen to anyone else ever again. She spends a good few seconds just pouting at him and then sulks for a good few hours when she finds out he briefly (indirectly) lied and then drops it completely when she's done. She gives him Vicodin when she's already on incredibly thin ice with her actual boss- and she doesn't like being in trouble here. She gets herself fired doing House's test and still finds a way to get a note smuggled into solitary just to tell him he was right. She's happy to meet up (for what she thought wasn't even work) with him when he first contacts her before ep 3 and sticks around from there.

Ep 5 is where she and Park are dramatically watered down even further just so Chase and Taub can play House-translators in a way that wasn't at all necessary given the way it's done covers misunderstanding House in ways Park and Adams literally never did.

And then there's ep 6. I project on Adams like a little whiteboard. I get mad when I think about her parents. Icicles by the scary jokes most Adams song of all time

This

Was Not

Her Fault

"You took the first deal they offered you because you wanted to punish yourself" is the only time she accurately reads House, the only time she almost manages to lie to any of them is when she's lying about her family. House spends their interactions this episode poking his second-to-newest daughter with a stick, as he does, and it gets little to nothing out of her except that her parents totally didn't do anything

When she does give him an answer, she starts it, and only when she has the opening to tell him He's Wrong, it was All Her Fault.

Honestly Adams would need years of therapy even if she hadn't had another episode after this (And Parents wasn't even her assigned episode, it was mostly Taub's)

The way Adams carries this around is genuinely so fucked up. Your sixteen-year-old with anger issues did a majorly impulsive thing. Something snapped and she went missing for two months and got into a very confusing very Not Good situation. She's not the type of person to have told them where she was- or at least where she stayed- while she was gone but I literally don't care if she didn't tell her parents that part of it I literally don't care if she got home and said she just stayed with a friend you can not tell your kid that She Did A Bad Thing that It Was All Her Fault that You Can't Believe She Did That that She Was Always The Problem There that She Caused All That Trouble to the point she believes it so strongly to the point she carries so much guilt so much desperation for absolution that when a kid who did the same thing who is the same age she was shows up she spends every second of it making everything worse by going This Is How It Has To Be This Is What You Need To Do Next

Runaways my beloved mess.

Why is this character-driven episode stuffed full of everything they needed to get into the season before Nobody's Fault/Chase covered months in-universe? Why are we following House running around without his ankle monitor all on-screen? Why is he taking the whole team with him to all these places? Why is Wilson here to say House is protecting Callie because he feels a connection with her but House never interacts with Callie at all past the opening? Why wasn't Foreman's relationship with Anita put in the episode before this - where it would've fit infinitely better because a point there was the patient's wife having feelings for her friend? Also I swear to god that reveal of Foreman going to that boxing match with House at the end of Parents did more for Foreman and House's relationship than any of this here.

Why is Chase so out of character and/or non-existent?

In context this one was Callie lying to keep covering up what her mom was really like, but this still feels ooc for Chase to me. Once they know about it, Callie's home life before she left is more fitting to Chase's situation with his mom and his sister than any other patient Chase has ever been matched up with and the one line he directly gets about Callie at all implies he doesn't believe her?

The most in-character thing Chase does in one of his so few significant appearances in this ep is be brutal when Adams tries (again) to go to him for reassurance/advice.

Chase doesn't ever hold back with her and I find it funny

The way Adams was handled here could have really worked if the episode had focused on what it was meant to focus on - if this one episode hadn't been used to scramble to tie up these other things pre-Nobody's Fault - if this other stuff wasn't taking up So Much Time in Someone Else's Assigned Episode.

I rewrite Runaways for fun- one version generally and one Much more self-indulgent version for the Warrior Cats AU because taking how Adams is handled in Parents - even moreso if they'd let her stay Crazy like she was in ep 1 - it could have worked as well to have had her be the one causing trouble through basically acting the way House does in the canon version of the ep, motivated by keeping Callie away from her mother, rather than causing trouble by doing what is, for Callie, the opposite of what she needs/wants.

Callie is given such a hard time here and Adams actually leads to multiple of those hard times but Callie still talks to her about Everything. Callie latches on to Adams as her safe person and looks for her opinion specifically when it only gets her nowhere and gives detailed versions of why she left/how she feels about her mother to Adams alone. They're so firewatcher's daughter to me,, nothing scares me more than the stranger at my door who I fail to give shelter time and worth

These two were the perfect matchup,, House read Callie like a book within minutes of first meeting her. He had this exact theory about her before he said it out loud. She's avoidant and stubborn and initially doesn't trust any of them. She swings between Fight and Say Nothing.

Callie at sixteen reached a breaking point with her family and ran away, got into (for her personally) a better situation, and then runs away again to get out of the hospital when the chance of being sent back home comes with it.

House read Adams like a book within the first day of knowing her (given he mentions noticing her getting bored in the three months she's been there - he'd done so much earlier than that without even talking to her). She's avoidant and stubborn and a whole lot less trusting than she thinks she is. She's Fight or Shut Up.

Adams at sixteen reached a breaking point with her family and ran away, got into an even worse situation, and then ran away from that to get out of it when going back home became the clear better(safer) option (and that really fucks with your mind when all you're told is that you did something wrong in the first place)

Adams blames herself for everything that went on when she was sixteen. She doesn't look back on any of it and see a reason for her leaving that she doesn't see as play stupid games win stupid prizes. But Callie's not doing that - She's found more stability away from home than she had at home, she's going to school, she still sees her friends, she's living on her own and knows what she's doing and where she wants to go even with the pushed-down emotions toward such a severed attachment to her mom.

Lightly counting the tiny retelling she starts here is watered down with the brightness turned up (succeeded by her being surprised that Callie still goes to school):

The way Adams responds to Callie is so much of her echoing. She spends this whole episode projecting right down to you think her mother wants to feel responsible for her daughter's problems?

It's you could at least let her in the room it's she's your mom and she's finally acting like it it's your mom knows she messed up and she's determined not to do it again and beyond the existing conflict Callie is upset that her parent is not listening to her(me too girl)

Adams' parents did something to make her snap before she ran away

And that Rebellious Phase is something Adams never really lost?? She's completely insane in ep 1. She and Park do a test House didn't want, she tries (and fails) at lying to Foreman for cover for House, she destroys a whole room with a baseball bat with only House telling her she's allowed to in ep 4. In Nobody's Fault she and Chase do a test House didn't want. Ep 18 she gives the kid a treatment House didn't want. She's yes a bit of a pain in Chase. She's stubborn as all hell in (parts of) Post Mortem and Runaways itself. Ep 8 and others she's just,, in One Of Her Moods.

Callie's actually fitting in some way for each of the team. Adams - ^^^ I'm autistic about them / Chase - caring for addict mom while just being a child himself. Dad unavailable in some way. Runaways is Adams' episode, but hell if Chase isn't actually involved in my rewrites / House - mentioned in the episode by Wilson / Taub - still adjusting to being a dad, struggling to feel an attachment to his kids and Callie is mentioned to have been closer to her dad than her mom / Park - Devotion to family / It's mad how Callie is (at least one of) the most developed patient(s) in the season even when the episode spends so much time on irrelevant stuff.

And with that - and again the way Adams is handled in Parents - The way Adams was handled here actually could've fit better for Park given that devotion to family and how they responded to the patient having left his family in ep 3:

vs.

I dunno. Have Adams cause trouble by pushing back at everyone who mentions getting Callie's mom involved.

That said I actually love Adams' last scene in Runaways I'm a complete sucker for the tone of these scenes (Parents, Runaways). Callie's parallels with Adams continue. House again tells Adams she's super fucked up. House tells Adams he doesn't care if she's fucked up. Adams has another crushing sense of unfinished business relating to that part of her life.

I'm obsessed with her. She's soaking up all my trauma like a sponge. I don't even remember when I first got so attached. She should be allowed to hit her dad with a baseball bat.

Adams also tells Chase she's seeing a trauma counselor post-Nobody's Fault and in the words of Willowpelt: "her therapist has it cut out for them and Adams doesn't even know it"

[bbrissonn]

𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐮 - 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐫 𝐳𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐬 (𝟏)

╰┈➤kinda nervous lol, making this on sept 22 at 11:51 pm. i came up with this idea for an au after seeing this post from @edwardslvrr like 2 hours ago

╰┈➤ october 8th bri bri here, decided to post this cause why not, it's all i've been thinking about since i started this au in my draft and i really want to make it public so yeah :))) hope you enjoy !!

╰┈➤ pairing: trevor zegras x ex!singer!reader

╰┈➤ masterlist

༊*·˚

-SEPTEMBER 1ST, 2023-

༊*·˚

: ̗̀➛ alannaoregon has posted on instagram for the first time in a while

alannaoregon

liked by jamie.drysdale and 1.8M others

alannaoregon so excited to announce that my sophomore album Tired of U comes out on October 13th !! this has been a work for almost 6 months and i cant wait for all of you to hear it. starting off with “i regret you everyday” coming out September 22th

much love, lana 🩵

view all 5,042 comments

becky.rivera GO BEST FRIEND

alannaoregon @/becky.rivera I LOVE YOU BEST FRIEND

user83 NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC

jamie.drysdale so proud

alannaoregon @/jamie.drysdale love you little one

user920 soooo we all agree on who all of these are gonna be about right…?

user726 trevor went from having 12 love songs written about him, to 14 breakup song 🫢

user02 @/user726 from obsessed with you to tired of u..

sabrinacarpenter so happy to be by ur side and see u grow, cant wait for everyone these masterpieces 🩷

alannaoregon @/sabrinacarpenter love you so much 🩷

user53 the way lana always uses a blue or white heart, but always a pink one for sabrina 🥹

user836 @/user53 glad im not the only one who noticed

user637 BAHAHAHA LIKE 10 OF TREVORS FRIEND LIKED THIS

load more…

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: ̗̀➛ alanna oregon posted a new youtube video

“Becky bring your butt over here.” Alanna called out, placing her camera on the counter of her bathroom. Her skincare products in front of her as Becca made her way into the room, waving at the camera once she was in frame.

"I'm here, I'm here." The Rivera girl said as Alanna grabbed her first product and started applying it to her face.

"Hi cuties, it's me, Lana." The singer said in a weird voice, one she used in every intro. Becca snorted a bit, making her best friend giggle a bit. "I am back with my girl Becky."

"That's me."

"And today, we're gonna take for a lake day with us. And through out the day, I am gonna explaining every single song from my next album, Tired of u, that comes out on October 14th." Alanna explained as she moved onto her second product. Next to her, Becca was nodding along to what she way saying, a proud smile on her face.

"Go pre-save it, guys!"

"And we're gonna be starting with a single, I regret you everyday, coming out on September 20th."

"Not gonna lie, I think that's one of my fav." Becky said as Alanna moved onto her third product. The singer had already made her best friend listen to the whole album, but the girl was there for the writing and producing process so she already had a good idea of what the song were like.

"So, I regret you everyday is a pretty self explanatory title for the song. It's pretty much about regretting ever getting into a relationship with someone, let alone even meeting them even if it's something you can't control." The girl started as she applied her sunscreen gently to her skin. "I think it was the second song I finished writing, maybe like a week after my break-up."

"Wasn't it two weeks?"

"I dunno know, doesn't matter. I was just crying on Becky's couch one day and just came up with it, she helped me write some of the lines."

"You can call me Shakespeare now." The Rivera girl joked, causing her best friend to giggle once again.

"Any who, I picked that song to be a single because I think it really gives off the vibe of what the album is gonna be. Also, because Becky said she'd hit me if I didn't put-"

"Lies!"

"If I didn't put out as a single. So, yeah, now you know!" Alanna continued, ignoring the look her best friend was giving her. She quickly cut the camera after that, laughing at Becca's expression that still hadn't changed.

༊*·˚

The next clip was of the two girls in the kitchen, preparing their breakfast for the day.

"I don't know if we said it before, but we're at Becky's family cottage for the weekend, so we're gonna go swimming this afternoon." Was the first thing said in the clip, Becky in the frame as she broke the eggs. Alanna was in the back, doors of the fridge opened as the looked for the milk.

"Then I am taking her out a date to the porch for dinner with the sunset."

"Fun fact for y'all, the photo on the back of the album was taken by the neighbors of me and Becky. So, thanks to them for their contribution to the album."

"And to my dock for being the front of it." Becca added as she now left the frame and Alanna was now the main focus.

"The next song we're gonna talk about is sunset chasing. Now that song was... very emotional to make, because as some of you might know, I am a whore for sunsets, and sunset chasing was something I did a lot with my ex." The girl started explaining.

"Big big whore for them!"

"In the song, the sunset represents like my relationship with said ex, and how I was like chasing after him and his attention even though we were together for years already. And I guess you could say there's like a double meaning I think, like how sunset chasing turned into me chasing him." She added, smiling slightly had Becca's words.

"I was once again present for the writing of this song and contributed." Becca said, walking back into the frame for a slight second, a proud smile on her face.

༊*·˚

"The birds are trying to eat my food!" Becca yelled out, a loud laughing coming from Alanna as she filmed her best friend shoo away the birds. The two girls were now outside, their breakfast in front of them as they sat on the porch, from which they had a nice view of the lake.

"Becca, don't hurt them!" Alanna said from being the camera, making the girl in question look at her like she was crazy.

"They're going for my food, Lana." There was a cut after that, and then the two girls were sitting around a round table as they slowly ate their food.

"Can I introduce this song?"

"Even if I say no, you'll do it anyways, Becky."

"Damn right I will. Anyways, guys, the next song is called 11 feet behind!" Becca announced to the camera giggling a bit after saying the title of the song. "What's that song about, Lana?" She asked with wiggling eyebrows.

"That song is about always feeling like you're always behind in your relationship. Like people know more what's going on in your relationship than you do, which, fucked up for one, and two really sucks, because it makes you feel like you mean nothing to your partner."

"Guys, let me tell, my girl did not hold back with this one." Becca giggled while talking to the camera. When Alanna had told her best friend she'd be using Trevor's number in one of her song titles, the girl gasped, calling her crazy because of it.

"I am speaking the truth."

"I'm so proud of you, lanny." Becca said randomly, looking over at her best friend. Alanna laughed a bit before giving the girl a big hug, laughing a little.

༊*·˚

"We're getting Starbucks!" Becca yelled out as the next clip started, Alanna's laugh being heard once again. The two of them were now in the car, Becca driving as the other girl sat in the passenger seat, holding the camera so they were both in frame.

"Which is like totally crazy 'cause the next song was written in a Starbucks."

"What a coincidence."

"Right!" The two girl joked, their chuckles echoing in the car before Alanna focused back on the task at hand. "Anyways, it's called Friend Stealer. Long story short, it's about getting dumped by a guy so he can go date one of your friend, that he met through you."

"Snakes." Becky could be heard whispering in the back.

"And the reason why it was written in a Starbucks is because I just wanted to leave my house, get some caffein, and as I was just sitting there thinking about the whole thing, the lyrics just came to me. So, I wrote them down in my notes, typing like a crazy lady on my phone."

"She was gone for like three hours, I was so worried!" Becca said, making Alanna roll her eyes slightly.

"Okay, that's a bit dramatic, I was gone for like, forty-five minutes maybe."

"Still scared me."

"Moving on, that song was probably what helped me really get over my break-up, well more like started the whole moving on process. I was really just writing what I was feeling and yeah, that song was born. It was the first one that I found the melody for, but I think it was like, the forth I wrote, and that's when I decided I was making an album." The singer explained with a shy smile, recalling the happiness she had felt after finally writing out all her anger.

༊*·˚

"We're back in the car! Becky, what'd you get, girl?"

"I got a grande iced coffee with a splash of cream, two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut." The girl explained her order, shaking her drinks around. "How about you, m'lady?"

"I got the same as always, my sir. A venti brown sugar oatmilk shaken expresso, only three pumps of brown sugar, three pumps of white mocha and no cinnamon."

"For all of you who didn't know, Lana's my sugar mommy, and she paid for my drink." Becca spoke, grabbing the camera for it was focusing on her. Her best friend scoffed a bit before bringing back to camera on her as Becky started to drive.

"Killing us softly is the name of the next song we're gonna be talking about. The title pretty much says it all, it just talks about how someone in a relationship just doesn't care enough and it's slowly killing their relationship." The clip cut right after the girl was done talking, and the next clip was of her sitting in her bed, filming on her phone with her headphones on.

"Guys, my camera died, oops. And at first Becky and I were gonna go to Target, well we still did, and film the next song in the car. Obviously, we couldn't do that, and my dumb ass forgot to like, go to the song we were gonna do in the car. So, here it is!

It's called mascara stained cheeks, once again, title says it all. But, it goes more into details about how toxic my relationship with my ex got, and how much he made me cry. Small reminder, that crying often in a relationship because of your partner, is not a healthy relationship, never has been and never will be. With that being said, next clip! Wait no, disclaimer, I got a little lazy with these, oops again, so the clips are pretty short. Okay, now, next clip!"

༊*·˚

The two girls were now laying on their chests on sun bathing chairs. The camera was set up on a small table in front of them as they both pushed themselves up on their chairs.

"30 seconds. Wanna do the honor's of explaining this one, Becky?"

"Yes please. This song is about how much of an asshole mister tiny dick was."

"Becca!"

"What? He was. Mister tiny dick broke up with my goddess of a best friend over a phone call, that lasted a solid 30 seconds." The Rivera girl explained, as Alanna gave her stern look.

"Becky, I'm gonna get demonetized because of you."

"Not my fault he had a tiny dick."

"Becca!"

༊*·˚

"Guys, it's editing Lana here again." The girl said, once again sitting in her bed. " So, apparently, none of my footage for the next three songs saved, yay. So, I am gonna have to do this little explanation segment again.

Okay, crushed mind. My baby, the second song I wrote, uhm, I pretty much got emotionally cheated on, so, my mind crushed. Oh my, God, I suck at explaining when I am alone. I feel so awkward just talking to my phone. Ugh, anyways, yeah, I don't know what else to say for that one.

Moving on, i miss u, this one I'm gonna explain so good, just watch, well listen... and watch. It's about missing the person your partner used to be, feeling like they've just become this whole new different person than the one you feel in love with. Which hurts, a lot. But, you know, people change, you can't get mad at people because of that... but you can write songs about it." The girl said, giggling slightly at the end.

"Last song that vanished, spinning circle, talks about conversations with my ex, would just be a spinning circle, I know the saying is like cycle or whatever, but the circle part is explained in the song. I can't tell you right now though, 'cause then I'm... I'm spoiling the like plot twist in the lyrics. Anyways, my camera figured itself out after that clip, so yeah. Back to Lanny and Becky from a week ago."

༊*·˚

The two young adults were sitting on the paddle board, which was tied to the dock so they didn't float away. The sun was beaming on them as their wet skin reflected the light slightly.

"I felt a fish touch me!" Becca gasped just as Alanna was about to speak.

"It's a fish, it's not gonna kill you."

"No, but you know what will, forgiving." Becca said, winking at the girl, clearly proud of herself for the word play. "Get it? 'Cause the next song is... forgive."

"Go you, girly. Forgive, is about forgiving myself for the pain I caused myself during the end of my relationship. Like, I knew it wasn't healthy and all, I knew I should've broken up with him, but I didn't. And it ended up hurting me a lot, and I wrote that song last, kinda like a letter to my past self, forgiving her for making me hurt."

"If any of you though it was about her forgiving mister tiny dick, you weren't alone. I though so too, and I almost wacked her when she told me." Becca said, using the nickname she had for Trevor once again. "Don't look at me like that, you're not gonna get demonetized!"

༊*·˚

"Okay, friends, it's now bedtime for us. We decided not to film after dinner, because we ended having a little heart to heart in the car after, and we just didn't really feel like it. So, we're gonna speed run the last three."

"Heist!" Becca called out. The two best friends were once again in the bathroom, now doing their nightly skincare.

"Going on a heist to get the smallest bit of attention from your partner." Alanna answered.

"heart n soul."

"How hurt my heart and soul were after my break up."

"Last one, tired of u!"

"Tired of... them. Yeah! No, uhm, I am gonna take a little more time on this one since it's also the name of the album. Tired of u, is just about how tired I was of how my old boyfriend was treating me and acting around me. And the reason I picked that name for the album, is because it really describes how I feel towards him still, and our relationship, even now. Overall, just tired of everything related to my old relationship, the media, the comments, just all of it."

"I got tired of him, too, Lanny." Becky said right before the clip cut, making the singer chuckle slightly.

༊*·˚

"Okay friends, we're now in our matching pjs, and we're gonna go to sleep now. So, thanks for hanging with us today."

"Don't forget to go pre-save the album!"

"And yeah, I'll see you guys soon. Bye bye!" Alanna said before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the lens, which Becca than repeated.

: ̗̀➛ comments

user80 the way every time she vlogs she always struggles with the camera- she's so me

user001 so excited to hear these songs, all of them sound so interesting !!!

user719 guys i think she's gonna release sunset chasing as a single before the album drops cause she did the whole album in order, expect for i regret you everyday and sunset chasing

user412 @/user719 OMG YOU'RE SO SMART alannaoregon @/user719 shhh bestie you're gonna ruin the surprise user719 @/alannaoregon OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HIIIII

[walkingstackofbooks]

For the ficlet prompt. What do you think their first lunch was like after the Dominion camp?

Julian is reeling from the ramifications of the changling that took his place, which everyone liked better. And maybe he's disappointed in Garak especially for not recognizing the imposter.

But also he learned the truth about Tain and watched Garak see his father die (and WHY did Garak do that??) and Julian probably wants to comfort his friend / situationship.

Garak meanwhile is reliving all the lunches that were actually the changling over the past few months. And his dad died and Julian SAW it (because he wanted Julian there). And he's worried about Julian who just got back from prison and probably has PTSD. And also why didn't he recognize the changling is he losing his edge as a spy?

And neither of them can say anything directly at lunch. So is it awkward? Are they both just so relieved to have the other there that it isn't awkward?

Do they talk about some book that acts as a perfect metaphor for what one (or maybe both) of them are going through??

Thanks to some assiduous Garak trickery over Halloween, I've finally got there! Thank you for your patience! (I know I never promised prompts would end up fulfilled, but still - half of this has been sitting in my drafts since July!)

I'm afraid this is not a happy fic, but I hope it answers a couple of your questions nonetheless! Thank you for the prompt - it was super interesting to think about!

--

The sound of the door chime startled him, and something dropped to the floor as he realised that his mind had drifted off again. It was now 12:38, which meant that he'd been out of it for some twenty-seven minutes - not the longest stretch by any means, but long enough. He looked down at the duster that had landed on his foot; apparently, he'd been cleaning? A glance around the quarters confirmed it: everything looked just that little bit neater, the books on the shelf were in a different order, and the sofa no longer bore the evidence that he had been sleeping on that instead of the bed.

Julian shivered. He had meant to tidy up, rearrange some things - but the purpose had been to make the quarters feel decidedly his again, and this... this didn't.

The door chimed again, and he hurried to shout 'Enter', knowing how easy it had been to concern his friends these past few days.

For some reason, it had not crossed his mind that it might be Garak to come through the door, armed with his usual pleasant smile. Maybe Julain had got too used to all the worried looks his other friends had been shooting him, but he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or apprehensive about the Cardassian's appearance. Everyone else had been understanding, at least, about the weird ways his trauma had been making itself known since he had got back – even if he had been embarrassed to have them see him like that, surely reinforcing how inferior the real Julian Bashir was to the pretend one. But Garak, well... who knew how he'd react?

"I see you weren't expecting me, Doctor," Garak said.

"Not exactly," responded Julian. "What are you doing here in—"

He hesitated, voice stuttering to a halt over the word "my quarters". It still didn't feel right. "What are you doing here?" he finished weakly instead.

"Well, I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten about our scheduled discussion," said Garak. "Although, of course, if you have other things to do…"

"No," broke in Julian, some part of him reaching out keenly for this time with Garak, no matter his anxieties. "No, I'm not doing anything. Please stay, Garak."

The Cardassian raised his eyebrows. "Stay, Doctor? But the replimat—"

Julian shook his head, looking away. "Unless it makes you uncomfortable..." he said, remembering too late that having conversation with Garak also meant eating lunch with Garak, and realising that he might trip over that very first hurdle. "I'm not, um— Food still isn't..."

He cringed at his own incoherence; he wasn't exactly making a convincing impression of a good lunch companion.

"I'm still adjusting to eating regular meals, and so the replicator here has been programmed to better accommodate my current needs."

And now he was sounding like a medical robot. Great job, Julian.

"I understand," said Garak. "Your recovery will be swift, I hope? But for now, there's little I would enjoy more than to accept your invitation. Where should I sit?"

"Oh, anywhere," replied Julian, gesturing at the sofas, grateful now for his unconscious burst of housekeeping. "Would you like something to drink?" he asked, just as much to put off answering Garak's first question as out of habitual politeness.

Garak replied that some rokassa juice would suit him well, thank you very much, and so Julian busied himself at the replicator, taking as much time as was believable over the task. He was rather out-of-practise at figuring out Elim Garak.

The trouble wasn't that Garak never meant what he said; most people didn't. But from most people, Julian would have assumed a question about his health was a simple pleasantry, and would have told them what they wanted to hear: yes, he was recovering well, and hoped to be totally back on his feet soon. With Garak, you had to listen out for what he didn't say, to know his meaning. 

Your recovery will be swift, I hope? It was barely even a question. And that meant Garak could be asking it simply because it was the normal thing to do (and maybe Julian really shouldn’t be obsessing so much over it). On the other hand, however, he could be showing great concern towards Julian, but because this was Garak, masking that he felt anything at all behind the banality. Or maybe he was even trying to indicate that he had just as little patience for sharing discussion without having lunch as he did for having lunch without any discussion, and he was only staying because he felt obliged to. Julian had noticed how Garak had said that there was “little” more he would enjoy, implying that there were other things he’d rather be doing...

Damn it all. Usually, Julian enjoyed running all the possibilities through his mind, relishing in the challenge of trying to give Garak the answer he wanted, but right now it already felt like there was too much in his brain, and Garak had barely even entered the room! Julian was certain that his mind had been quicker than this a month ago, that there hadn’t been this constant fog which he now had to wade through to get to the end of any thought, that his anxiety had been neither this loud, nor this overwhelming. 

The glass was in his hands, and he was handing it over to Garak; his feet had carried him back to the sofas without waiting for him to direct them. Julian sat down, mildly disturbed. The dissociation was nothing new, it had been following him since solitary – hence his earlier acceptance of the newly-clean room, rather than outright panic – but usually it had confined itself to times when he had been alone. He hoped this was just a blip, and not a development that was going to stay. 

“How have you been?” he asked. His fingers had started to tap against his leg, and he pulled his hands sharply together, clasping them tightly. Maybe he ought to have made himself a drink, too, just to give his hands something to hold.

“I am better, certainly, than the last time we talked,” Garak replied. “And you?”

Following Garak’s lead, Julian gave an equally non-committal reply. “I’ve been worse,” he shrugged.

“You’re still experiencing… difficulties, though?”

“Is it so obvious?” Julian chuckled, wincing and praying that it really was just the obvious that Garak had spotted.

“Well for one thing,” Garak started, “—and do forgive me for pointing this out, I feel a little rude… but I do not believe that this is Rokassa juice.”

“I—”

For a few seconds, Julian felt as though his brain had come to a complete halt. He sat there, staring at Garak stupidly, before leaning across the coffee table to reach out for Garak’s glass. Now he was thinking about it, he realised that Rokassa juice usually came in a mug.

And this, unmistakably, was tea. Tarkalean, not Cardassian.

“Heh, must have been on autopilot,” he said, trying to laugh it off. “I’m terribly sorry, Garak – let me get you another—”

“Allow me, my dear,” interrupted Garak, smoothly rising from the sofa and leaving Julian to wonder how on Earth he’d failed to notice the mix-up himself. He supposed that he really must be more behind on sleep than he’d thought.

The fact that Garak had seemed to return almost instantly added to that theory. Julian hadn’t even heard the beep of the replicator, and startled when Garak suddenly appeared by the sofas once more, mug in hand.

“Don’t worry, I’m just tired,” he said, in answer to Garak’s quizzical look. “I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

He hadn’t meant for that to slip out, and hoped that his earlier supposition was true: that Garak was just being polite, and wasn’t really checking up on him. Julian didn’t need yet another friend inquiring about his nightmares.

He had no such luck, of course. Garak almost seemed to pounce on this opening.

“It is my understanding that humans recover best only when they are getting sufficient rest,” he said. “Indeed, I seem to remember several occasions upon which you, my dear, lamented your patients’ inability to follow the simple instruction of “Get some sleep”.”

Julian groaned, leaning back into the sofa, twisting the glass of rapidly-cooling tea in his hands. “It’s not that simple.”

“Do you expect it to be?”

The question brought Julian up short, grating in its sharp lack of sympathy.

“I—Not really, I suppose? Not after what we went through.”

The ‘we’ slipped out without thought, an unwitting lie despite its truth. But it was easier, somehow, to claim the shared ghastliness of the final few days. ‘I’ sounded dreadfully lonely.

An unfamiliar expression stole across Garak’s face, and Julian wished he could tell what the Cardassian was thinking. Whatever it was, it seemed that Garak had lost control of the conversation too, the both of them reaching out for something to say, and returning with nothing – nothing they could admit to, anyway.

“Did you read any books while I was away?” he asked, before he had to contend with any awkward silence.

“None that were worth discussing,” Garak replied dismissively, leaving Julian wracking his brains for what he’d recommended that was so objectionable – before the unpleasant realisation swept over him that anything Garak had read, he would have discussed with the changeling. His stomach curdled, and he took a quick mouthful of his tea to try and swallow down the bile rising in the back of his throat.

“Can I—Do you—?" He was just saying words now, hoping that he’d stumble upon a suitable question and coming up laughably blank.

His stomach came to the rescue, interrupting his stilted thoughts with a growl. A rather loud growl, in fact, which had him wondering if he’d actually eaten breakfast that morning.

“I should eat,” he said, standing up and trying for a smile. “Thank you, Garak – this has been… nice—”

A frown drifted across Garak's face. “Are you we not sharing lunch, Doctor?”, he asked, his eyes flicking to the clock. Julian followed his gaze, and was startled to realise less than ten minutes had passed since Garak had entered. Oh.

But eating was difficult enough without the shadow of the changeling’s lunches looming fresh in Julian’s mind.  “I can’t,” he replied. “I’m sorry, Garak, it’s just, I can’t—.” He broke off.

I can’t eat with you.

Why would Garak even want to stay for longer anyway? Surely he could see that there was no scintillating conversation to be found in these quarters today?

Unless Julian had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even realised what Garak had really come looking for.

“Garak…” he started hesitantly. “About Tain—”

“I’ll leave you to your lunch, Doctor,” Garak interrupted, speaking over Julian as though he hadn’t said a word. “I hope you have a pleasant meal.”

The Cardassian stood up, first putting his mug away in the replicator, and then crossing the room to the door. For once, Julian could see straight through him, the way that Garak was trying to disguise the fact that he was all but bolting from the room.

“At least I know I’m not okay!” he found himself shouting over the sound of the door’s opening swish.

Garak turned to look at him. “Is that a fact?” he asked – and then he was gone.

Julian sat down, aching in a way he could not name. His stomach hurt, and the quarters were not his, and he was once more alone.

[mpsansy]

A View In The Garden

Idk what the heck to title this, I haven't written a fanfic in such a long long time :P

Also this has been sitting in my drafts for too long and I needed to share it already. So enjoy the bond Casper will have with his uncle Stinkie!

___

There wasn't a breeze out on this late morning. And by the off chance there was, the young spirit wouldn't have felt it anyway. Couldn't really feel most things if he was being honest with himself. Especially the three uncles that were currently resting within the manor.

But that wasn't really important to him right now. What was important, however, was the new greenery that was sprouting up. With a little convincing and pleading, both Casper and Kat were able to create a colorful landscape in the garden. Initially looking otherwise devoid of life before they started.

It was perhaps the one thing that caught one of Casper's uncle's eyes before darting off, as if to play off his interest at the display.

___

Casper, alone for the meantime, was in pure amazement. Previously when looking for flower seeds so many months ago with Kat, Casper with much enthusiasm, picked out the best flowers for the garden. All with no assistance needed from her.

For a moment, it was fascinating for Kat to see his understanding of most of these plants he picked out. They must've really meant something to the boy to have been picked out with no hesitation.

Unfortunately, she wasn't here to enjoy the garden with Casper. Something with applying for some big school, but either way, he was happy for her. She's doing all kinds of different things now. Things he was very happy with listening to from time to time.

___

The child didn't realize how far time had passed until one of his uncle's came from within the manor. He didn't seem to be in such a bad mood himself, because his call for his nephew was at a normal volume. Unlike his other two uncles who could practically rattle bones with their voices.

Casper looked up to face the uncle who called him. A smile plastered on his face.

"Oh! Hey, uncle Stinkie." He called back. Smile still present.

"What's the deal, shortsheet?" Stinkie asked, floating a bit closer to his nephew. "Have you really been out here all this time lookin' at JUST flowers?"

Casper shook his head.

"Not just flowers. There's more things I've been looking at!"

"More?"

"Mhm!"

Color the other ghost curious, cause once he got to where Casper was resting at, he saw it. Bugs. For most that would probably be uninteresting, however for these two? It was something mesmerizing.

"I don't think I've seen these little critters here in a long time." Stinkie commented to Casper. A few bees passing by, landing and collecting pollen from the newly bloomed flowers.

The boy nodded.

"I think because of all the gardening me and Kat have been doing. It got their attention."

All around the two, life was booming. And Casper tried to show his uncle all the different bugs that were appearing left and right. Besides the bees, there were others. Ants, beetles, caterpillars, you name it. It was all there.

Matter of fact, Stinkie had a response to all this. He was talking about all the different types of bugs Casper had listed off. It's benefits to keeping nature going strong. Especially for a garden such as this.

And for some reason, it felt like Casper had already heard this kind of talk from his uncle before. But this is the first time they've really had a normal conversation. So it was strange.

"Uncle Stinkie, how do you know all this stuff?"

"Hm, what do ya mean?"

Casper continued, now feeling a bit embarrassed to have temporary interrupted his uncle's lecture on bugs.

"Well, I've never seen you interested in stuff like this. I mean, it's really nice to hear it! Honestly."

Stinkie couldn't answer that question initially. With turning his head to Casper briefly and then to the ground. Bringing a finger to tap on his chin. Thinking.

Finally came a response.

"Casper, I'll be honest with ya. An' don't tell the others about this. But I think I'm startin' to remember things."

Casper looked confused.

"Remember?"

"Y'know, like, remember things before being a ghost."

"Oh..."

Give it a second.

"OH!!"

There it is.

"Really?!" His voice came out louder than it should've, quickly clamping his mouth shut.

"Really?" Casper asked again, quietly this time.

Stinkie couldn't help but snicker. Soon nodding to the boy. Looking back to the bugs who had not a single clue of the spirits viewing them.

"It's kinda weird. Didn't even know I had a feelin' of recallin' stuff like this before."

"Does Stretch and Fatso know?" Casper asked. "That you're remembering stuff now?"

A pause, followed with Stinkie's head tilting to his nephew.

"Mm, nah. Just happened recently. S'ides, I'm sure they'd be bored outta their minds hearing me ramble about this new discovery. Better to not make a fuss about it."

Guess he's right about that. They were usually just fixated on the TV than sitting down to hear a random fact about a topic Casper was interested in.

Still, he didn't think his own uncle was finding his memories. Something to ask him more about later.

"I like this though." Stinkie commented, breaking his nephew's train of thought. "Just somethin' about it feels sorta. Nice."

Casper couldn't agree more. And was so happy to hear such a thing coming out of his uncle. It felt so sincere. Something that didn't come often with any of them.

"Yeah."

___

"Say, Casper?"

"Yes, uncle Stinkie?"

"Would you be interested in plantin' more flowers here? I can help if you don-"

Stinkie didn't manage to finish his question. Because in that instance, the boy immediately answered.

"Of course you can! I don't mind at all! But... uhm..." There comes the nervous tone in the boy's voice.

"You think uncle Stretch and Fatso would get annoyed by us spending time outside? And me not inside doing chores?"

"Ah, fuck 'em." Oops. That came out by mistake. Nothing he could do other than cover his mouth.

"Uncle Stinkie, language!" Casper said with an exaggerated gasp, pretending to be shocked at the use of his uncle's profanity. Honestly he's heard so much throughout the years that he could put them in a book.

"... I think it'd be nice ta change things up though. But maybe keep it between us. The rememberin' part that is."

"Yeah, right!" Casper with such excitement couldn't help but wrap his arms around Stinkie. And instead of shoving the child off. He let it be. Smiling as he went to pat the top of his nephew's head.

"Let's get back inside though." Casper said, letting go of his uncle and beginning to float up. "I really don't want to hear Stretch screech his head off about how long we were outside."

"Good idea, bulbhead." That comment was all Stinkie said before following his nephew's lead back inside.

Hopefully they would get to have this time again soon.

[cafiffle]

ok it's time to be cringe on main (like I ever wasn't)

in honor of the new game finally maybe happening, here is a collection of the Dragon Age OCs I've developed over the last decade or so. only two of them were my actual video game protags and have evolved a lot from there, SEE IF YOU CAN GUESS WHO (or don't, I'm not your dad)

(L to R, top to bottom)

Sina, Keeper's First of Clan Dahlasanor and baby lesbian who had to leave her clan in search of healing for the anime wasting sickness that claimed her life in her early twenties. She was all about that good good Dalish nature magic and thought of it as a sort of healing. A gentle soul with strong convictions, she spent her last months securing the union of her (small, decimated) clan with a larger, thriving one by marrying their male First.

Cade Harimann of Starkhaven, the second son of a noble family who gave him to the Chantry at a young age. He endured Some Bullshit at the monastery, leaving him already somewhat unhinged before he served in Kirkwall prior to the Mage-Templar war. He was kicked out of the Templars "for his own good" due to his massive PTSD-induced emotional problems, and now lives in the woods with his chill elf gf who doms him when he needs it.

Teren von Skraedder*, from a po-dunk town on the border of Nevarra and Orlais, is every bit the Grey Warden stereotype: a liar, a convict, and just generally kind of an asshole. She was recruited in her early 40's as an alternative to being executed for treason against the Nevarran crown, and has settled into Wardening over the last twenty or so years. She loves her younger siblings-in-arms, even if she's mean to them, and she gets a little more deranged every time one of them gets their Calling or dies in combat while she continues to grow older.

Benedict Quintus Artemaeus is an Altus mage from Minrathous who preferred to spend his days getting high and fooling around with other rich boys, shirking his studies and the politics of his Magister mother, nearly into his twenties. He finally had to get serious when his tutor aligned with the Venatori and got them both captured by The Enemy (the canon good guys), leading to a rocky but gradual ascent from hedonistic fuckup to Sort of Competent Guy Who Cares Occasionally. he's been compared to Emperor Kuzco and that's not inaccurate ok

Josephine "Fifi" Mariette* is a regular ol elf from Val Royeaux who, after failing to make it in the city ballet/opera/ye olde whatever, made her way as a cabaret dancer and prostitute until her marriage to a human accountant, Jacques. His family never accepted her, so when he was drafted and killed in the War of the Lions, she left town to briefly join the Freemen of the Dales. Finding that she was as invisible there as anywhere else, she opted to put her status to use and become a spy for (and on) the Good Guys while working as their housekeeper.

Obeisance "Just Barrow Please" Barrow*, a farmer's son from Crestwood, went off to join the Templar Order as a means of finding adventure, leaving home, and making his extremely religious parents happy without having to take over the farm. He served in the Jainen Circle for many years without incident, but very casually deserted when the Mage-Templar war began (hit da bricks, just walk out etc). He spent some time afterward as a mercenary, and his MO is to bop around being helpful where he can while also absolutely never talking about what he used to do. it's none of your business

*if you think you know her/him from somewhere else: you do, I recycle these shitheads constantly

there have been a few more but they didn't Take in the same way, so just these for now. ok byyyeee