#probably not my best editing either. but. god.

[reborrowing]

a strange appearance, part seven

i was going to get farther with this chapter but fuck it I want to put something on the dash today that isn't. that.

Stranger Swap Masterpost | ao3 First | Prev | Next

word count: ~2100 cws: fear, angst, hunger

Phoebe

Magic was real and Phoebe hated it.

It shouldn’t be real. By its own definition, it couldn’t be real. If something existed in the natural world, then it was a part of the natural world, so it couldn’t supernatural. It might not be something she understood, but that was no reason to brush it off as some vague, inexplicable magic. It didn’t mean that there weren’t rules. It didn’t mean it couldn’t be studied.

And yet.

In the last week and a half, she couldn't come up with any explanation better than magic.

There was, of course, the first and extremely unlikely morning when she and Val had met. But she could nearly dismiss that away as some kind of hallucination or dream, like she’d initially thought. It was almost definitely what anyone else would suggest if she brought it up—if she could bring it up.

The only lasting evidence of her strange morning with Val was a tiny, delicately sewn bag filled with crumbs and lavender petals. There was a shirt too, but it looked like it could have been hand sewn for a doll. Too easy to explain away. Her bruises were fading. The articles she’d accumulated mentioned diminutive peoples, but never any shrinking. She couldn’t find Val themself or whatever other tools or modifications they had made to be able to get around her apartment. There was no sign of them coming back so she couldn’t figure out where they went to hide. They were gone.

What really killed her was that she couldn’t talk about it. That was what made her so certain that there was something exceptional and actually magical going on here. She’d agreed to keep Val’s secret, yes, but no one trusted Phoebe to keep a secret, at least not more than once. Her mouth had such a bad habit of running ahead without her thoughts and unfortunately, her mouth never remembered what was and wasn’t supposed to be private. But this time, she couldn’t say a single word to anyone about what had happened.

She tried. Not out of malice or any desire to hurt Val (…or any one else, assuming there were others. She wondered how many there were.) Every time she tried to bring up the topic with someone, she’d start choking or her conversation partner would get an urgent phone call or someone would just start speaking over her no matter how loud she got. Any text she tried to send about Val or the articles she’d found would fail to send. She tried to email the authors of the most recent articles she had found on sprites and got back error messages about invalid addresses. She even could email them about their other work without any problems. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that it was either the strangest string of unlikely coincidences she’d ever seen or actual magic.

So she kept their secret, against her will, along with a journal detailing what had happened as precisely as she could. She had her actual measurements and estimates of her temporary ones, rough guesses to Val’s sizes, an approximate duration, and the repeatedly annotated conclusion that none of it should have happened at all. She did her best to sketch them. She still wanted answers.

She tried more research, this time working with borrower as a keyword. She didn’t find much more than she had the first time, aside from another genre of irrelevant junk and fantasy worldbuilding discussions. She did find a server set up as if it were a whole network of borrowers that she thought might be real but it seemed just as likely it was just a bunch of really dedicated role-players. None of them broke character and when Phoebe had asked about basically anything, they banned her. No answers from them either. No answers anywhere. She hated it.

And it scared her.

If it had happened once, it could happen again, and she still had no idea why or how. What if it happened when she wasn’t home? When she had something important she needed to do? What would she do then? She was almost as afraid that it might not happen again, so she might never see Val again, and never get any answers. It would drive her insane, not being able to talk about it or learn anything more, but knowing beyond a doubt that it had been real. That she’d experienced something so rare and extraordinary and had hardly anything to preserve the memory, never mind share it.

She realized that the novel she’d loaded onto her phone had mysteriously changed into one of the half dozen articles she’d downloaded. Phoebe had them practically memorized at this point. She tossed her phone aside with a sigh. She didn’t remember what the story was even supposed to be about. She may as well grab her notes and get back to obsessing.

-

Val

Val waited by their kitchen exit until they were sure Phoebe was elsewhere. It was a torturous exercise in self-control, listening to her clean up the kitchen and seal away a warm, fresh meal while their stomach moaned and rolled. There was that one voice in the back of their head, the one they’d had nurtured for so long, begging them to just ask for mercy and play pet in exchange for good food. It had long since drowned out their natural instincts.

They thought about the pitying looks they’d been given during their brief stay with the colony. The disgust. Val hadn’t been wanted there but they could be better. They tightened their grip on their string ladder and waited. Phoebe kept her cupboards stocked well enough, they could find what they needed there without venturing back out into the greater apartment. They just had to be sure that she wouldn’t open a cupboard and find them sifting through her dry goods. Val had borrowed safely from her apartment for months. They could do this.

The sink drained loudly and within a few moments, the front of the apartment went silent as Phoebe left the kitchen. They descended the last few inches down their ladder and squeezed themself into a gap in the drywall that would drop them right onto the top shelf in the rightmost cupboard.

Their skin crawled as they surveyed the bounty below. Everything had been moved since they had last been here, including the tall storage bin they usually dropped onto. They considered the very real possibility that she had found this access point while she’d been looking for them. She could have had it sealed off. She could have left out traps. Would she go that far? Was that something Val needed to look out for? They hoped not.

They slipped off the ladder and started weaving their way through the walls of food packaging looking for something already open and easy to get into. They should’ve made a list of what they needed, but at this point they were out of just about everything, so they’d take what they could find.

Sealed, too unwieldy to open, sealed, too awkward to close…spices, cans… How cruel it was to starve in a world filled with excess food because the rest of the world was determined to keep it from creatures like you. Val wasn’t sure if they blamed humans for the packaging or the rodents for the disease—they didn’t like mouse shit in their own pantry either.

Eventually they reached a box of Ritz with one sleeve already open. They broke apart a cracker, stuffing most of the pieces into their bag and eating the rest. When that settled, they’d see about prying their way into the rice, since it was easy enough to carry more than a meal’s worth of grain back home.

Or, they could take a bigger risk and look for something fresh left out on the counter.

They were starting to feel better about everything now that they had something in their stomach. Bread or fruit or unnoticed scraps or maybe a rogue dish left uncleaned with gummy sauce or cooked something-or-other. They were pretty sure that she was in the bedroom, which meant they should have time to hide if even if she did get up and decide to come this way. They could go unnoticed even if she was awake.

They shoved the cupboard door open and peered down, relieved to see that her counter held as much clutter as usual (though it had all been wiped down and there were no spilled leftovers to be found) so they could hide if it turned out they needed to. Val anchored their earring hook around the cabinet's door-stopper and dropped a line of floss to slide down. They left it hanging in case they wanted to make a quick escape later.

They barely managed to search at all before they got distracted. In the distance, sitting on the desk in the dining cove nearby, Val’s own belongings caught their eye. The shirt they’d been wearing on that morning along with their best borrowing bag were sitting out in plain sight beside a stack of her schoolwork. They bit their lip. That might be a more worthwhile prize than stale food.

By the time they reached the desk, they were sure they’d had enough and needed to get back home to rest. They’d been out long enough that the open air was enough to fray their nerves and make them sick, even if they had had a full meal at some point in the last few days. They would quickly grab their things and slink back home again but of course, nothing could ever be easy.

Their heart sank when they grabbed their shirt; the stitches had been stretched out and deformed. They held the garment out in front of them to examine, to decide if it could be repaired, and that was enough time for their eyes to catch the words they were standing on. They stiffened and froze as if they’d felt a pair of eyes behind them. They were being watched. Observed anyway, even if indirectly.

The handwritten page they were standing on was about them.

They stepped down and carefully flipped through several more pages. The handwriting was hard to read and some of the lines were obscured by math formulas or more fancy academic words Val didn’t know, but they got the gist of it. The scratch pad was a record of their encounter with Phoebe along with notes from those awful articles. Drawings. Literal walls of text announcing Val’s existence and speculating on whatever details she didn’t know.

Fear and anger clenched their jaw. Had they really been stupid enough to think she wouldn’t give them up? That she wouldn’t try to hunt them down? They wanted to tear apart each word and haul it back into the between-spaces where humans couldn’t fit. They wanted to scream.

They started to tear apart the pages, but even that noise set their teeth on edge. She was just in the other room. They bit their lip and changed tactics, carefully pulling a pen from the holder nearby. It was longer than them, awkward and unwieldy, but so was everything. They dragged the ink cartridge to the notepad and tore it apart. It was messy, they probably stained themself as much as the paper, but it was effective enough. The paper curled as splatters of ink soaked through the damning words.

They couldn’t erase everything, not with just the one pen at least, but it felt so good to do something, to make their fate their own. The wrenching in their chest could breathe. They sighed and in an instant, the terror returned. The bedroom door creaked open. The hall light flicked on and flooded the area with electric light, silhouetting Phoebe at the other end. She took a step and froze as she caught them in their indulgent act of vandalism.

“Wh—Val?” she whispered, still processing what she was looking at. Her eyes widened and her voice raised in pitch and volume. “Oh my god, no!”

Val shook a rogue blob of ink off their hand and ran. They barely had a chance to make it to the edge of the desk in the time it took for Phoebe to cross the hall and reach them. Her shadow swallowed them whole as they squeezed themself through the crack between the wall and the desktop. Papers shuffled. She kept shouting.

They pressed themself as flat as they could and wormed their way down into a drawer to hide. Both of their bags fell to the floor behind them. Val landed in what felt like a bin of paperclips and sounded like something loud enough to drawer the host’s attention. They cringed and slid deeper into the drawer, knocking away another clinking cascade of office supplies. The cheap desk shuddered around them as her steps came faster and closer and Val backed themself into a corner.

-

taglist: @da3dm @whumpsday @gt-daboss @whumpinthepot (To be added/removed from the taglist please comment, ask, or message, I’ll forget if it’s just in the tags of a reblog!)

[intomybubble]

I’m still playing Sims 4 and so I made a household with a Sim of myself so I can try doing a bunch of different careers (for the items lol)

I ended up romancing Don Lothario and accidentally had his kid after downloading and trying out the WW mod (we had 1 date prior, and I asked for him to live in with me afterwards).

I wasn’t paying too much attention to his name (since this was my first time playing Sims 4 since mid 2010s and I don’t know characters or lore), and used the random name generator and named our daughter, Dawn. I did not realize I basically named her after him lol.

As things are now

We’re partners and “soulmates”

I go out to work (currently doing the spy career), while he’s basically my househusband

He was a creative freelancer when he was added to my household so he makes A LOT from paintings, and sometimes music

I gave him an variation of his default everyday outfit to give him glasses (bc I’m into glasses, but “lorewise” he spends more time at a screen for work so he started to need them)

I used a mod to change his “non-committal” trait into being a family man, and bc he’d still get tense from being “non-committal” (despite trying to get rid of it) I got a “carefree” potion from the rewards store RIP

I don’t 100% remember before changing it, but he was a decent dad beforehand. Now, its super cute seeing him chat and play with our daughter

My Sim wants to marry him, but I’ve been worried about him potentially refusing so I’ve just stuck with being “partners”

I did do a wedding on a different household (OC marrying Liberty) and that was a mess especially since I have no idea what I’m doing

I do now have actual venues to use in the future instead of the ugly base game park 👍

I did give my Sim the same necklace that he wears as a sorta “promise ring” in her outfits (I think its cute lol)

Bc I’m stuck on leveling stats, we don’t leave the house that often. But the WW mod has kept things… spicy without actual dates lmao

I think I’m going to try proposing and just having an incredibly long engagement soon…

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited

➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write

logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”

“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).

“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.

you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.

he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.

“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.

“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”

the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”

you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.

“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”

“it’s a gift! you keep those!”

“oh… right…”

he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 

“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 

the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”

“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”

“first what??”

“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”

“i have to name it?”

“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.

“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”

“that’s such a shitty name—”

“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”

[nickmarini]

Ayden’s Build 

TL;DR: Barbarian 1, Druid  2 (Circle of the Stars), Paladin 8 (Oath of the Ancients), and Cleric 9 (Peace Domain). Feats: Squire of Solamnia, Remarkable Recovery, Warcaster, Knight of Crowns, Spelldriver, Tough.

Building Ayden was a joy and a journey. To begin we were told we had 20 levels to work with and stats of 20 across the board. The only thing I knew about Ayden from the session 0 was that he was going to be a Cleric of the Everlight and that I wanted to make him the best support character I could. I also knew that the Dawnfather was aware of the mission briefing and so would have directed his growth to the task at hand. 

Stats of 20 meant multiclassing into any class was possible and that any ability score based bonuses or proficiency based abilities were going to be very good. I figured that with a warlock and a sorcerer we’d have some pretty good counterspelling and 9th level spell access, so I didn’t worry myself about either of those, instead focusing on making sure we all survived. 

The Dawnfather and The Everlight share 2 of 3 Domains. Life and Light. The Everlight’s 3rd domain is Peace. The Peace Domain cleric is an excellent subclass and its 6th level ability, Protective Bond, was something I knew I wanted to build around. The ability to take hits for, and aid, my siblings while teleporting around the battlefield is an excellent support ability and it also lets allies in the bond do the same, fostering sibling unity and cohesion.

With the Dawnfather having Nature as his unique domain separate from the Everlight, and literally sending himself to Exandria to infiltrate a city full of the greatest mages of the age, the Oath of Ancients Paladin seemed like an obvious path. It is the nature Paladin, (his domain) and 7 levels gives you both Aura of Protection and Aura of Warding. This means as Ayden moves through the battlefield with Protective Bond he will be granting allies +5 to saves from his cha as well as resistance to damage from spells. Incredibly good going up against the wizards of Aeor he knew he would encounter. I didn’t want to go to 10 with Paladin because I didn’t want to be immune to frightened. I just felt that fear played too large a role in the reasons the gods were here and although aura of courage is probably my favorite ability going back to 3rd edition, I felt like it wasn’t right for Ayden. He had to fear in order to reinforce his need to hope. 

These two classes were set relatively quickly and then I began looking at how else I was going to build him out. 

I really liked the idea of being able to grant my allies some extra attacks and so I was looking at battle master to get commanders strike and goading attack as well as maneuvering attack to help take hits for and position my allies. Action Surge is also a great ability that could really come in handy if I needed to save someone and needed one extra action to do so. 

I was also looking at the 2nd level Divination Wizard ability Portent. The ability to fully dictate 2 rolls is very powerful in certain circumstances, especially if the numbers are very high or very low.

Both these seemed good but weren’t feeling totally right from a character perspective. They felt too forced.

As I was playing around with these two classes I was also building Aydens backstory. I really liked the idea of him being agriculturally focused, as this aspect of the Dawnfather is actually his youngest. Sun begets days, and thus time and seasons, and as civilization evolves agriculture follows. The fighter levels lent the idea that he has spent some time training under a knight or some such warrior, and I knew that he would eventually find his way to Trist to begin his tutelage and become her cleric. I liked there being these different eras of his life. 

It was around this time that I got an awesome email asking me to describe Ayden visually so that the incredibly talented Hannah Friederichs and Cael Lyons could begin to bring Ayden and the Dawnfather to life. I wanted Ayden to be a simply dressed with a shield he took from his mentor, but no sword for striking. They sent 4 sketches and told me I could mix and match as I desired. Image #1 however was exactly as I had envisioned him. It was the simplest and had this depth to his eyes that told the story of a much older soul in this 15 year old body. It was so perfect that it made me realize I had been going in the totally wrong direction with fighter and wizard. The concepts of nature and agriculture were suddenly staring me in the face. It was not wizard, but druid, and his mentor could have taught him to be a paladin as easily as fighter, but if he is the bringer of agriculture who has he brought it to? A remote tribe still hunting and gathering was the answer. Barbarian therefore replaced fighter. I can’t tell you how influential the sketch I received was. It felt like a bolt of lightning suddenly clarified everything. 

I was for sure cleric 6, Paladin 7 and now looking at druid and barbarian. 

I didn’t know Druid subclasses very well but Circle of the Stars jumped out from the pack just with its name. The Sun after all is a star. When I read its 2nd level abilities Starmap and Starry form it was so obvious. I can cast Guiding Bolt to set up those attacks I wanted to grant, and I can glow instead of wild shape and either heal more or have a massive bonus to maintain the concentration spells I knew I wanted to cast. For the keeper of time to know how to read the stars just felt right. It also feel right that the druids of a tribe that had been hunting and gathering during the tumultuous Calamity would have learned to navigate by the stars, a singular constant in an every changing age. 

Barbarian has a number of interesting subclasses but none felt like they clicked. 1 level of Barbarian though, for a character with 20 dexterity and 20 constitution, catapults your AC to 20 and it also gives you a proficiency in Constitution saving throws if you take it as your first class, again reinforcing those concentration rolls. He was found as a child by this barbarian tribe and his first class is also his first community. Barbarian was the strong foundation I would build upon. 

I was now Cleric 6, Paladin 7, Druid 2, Barbarian 1. Reorganized to be the order Ayden would have taken them in it becomes the following:

Barbarian 1, Druid  2 (Circle of the Stars), Paladin 7 (Oath of the Ancients), and Cleric 6 (Peace Domain)

4 more levels to distribute. As a player who has mostly played 3.5 (I think downfall just about doubled the amount of 5E I have played) feats are my absolute favorite things, so getting to multiples of 4 in class levels to grab some was something I wanted to do (also I didn’t have to worry about ability score increases)! I had already given one feat up by taking barb and druid but I made up for it with the human variant. I also took the Knight of Solamnia background to give me Squire of Solamnia, the prerequisite for Knight of the Crowns which would give me the ability to grant attacks to my allies without needing battle maneuvers. 

So I upped paladin from 7-8 for a feat and then decided to take Cleric from 6-9 because it gave me a feat and access to the spell Dawn. I mean the Dawnfather should be able to cast Dawn after all! 

Now to feats

1) Background: Squire of Solamnia to give me the prerequisite for Knight of the Crowns

2) Human Variant: Remarkable Recovery. I knew I’d be taking extra damage so having 5 extra hp from any healing I get might just be the difference. It also plays into his background. He had to leave the Barbarian tribe he brought agriculture to because his skin could not retain the ceremonial tattoo ink that would have symbolized his initiation into the community. 

3) Cleric 4 Warcaster to get advantage on those concentration checks, that along with proficiency and starry form of the dragon means I need to take 28 damage (56 if it’s a spell) to even have to roll, and when I do I get advantage and proficiency on the check. Getting me to lose concentration is gonna be a task. 

4) Paladin 4 Knight of the Crown getting to grant an attack proficiency times per day combos wonderfully with Starmaps free guiding bolt, conveniently also proficiency times per day. 

5) Cleric 8 Spelldriver I’m gonna be casting a bunch of spells so the ability to cast multiple each turn is going to make my support spells come out much faster. I have a big fam to take care of!

6) Paladin 8 Tough I really went back and forth between this and Inspiring Leader. Granting all my siblings 25 temp hp is amazing but ultimately I decided that as I’d be tanking a bunch of damage I’d need toughness. Toughness gave me 15 more hp than Inspiring leader would have, and I ended up going down to 14 at one point so it was a decision that very much paid off by a single HP! Don’t wanna pop a deathward if you can help it!

Last but not least we were granted 2 magic items. One very rare and one uncommon. For my uncommon I chose a cloak of resistance, a parting gift from the tribe that Ayden could not join. This upped my saves to 11s or 17s and took my AC to 23. For his very rare magic item I took a spellguard shield, inherited from the knight who brought him from the remote tribe to Trist‘s school, giving me advantage on saving throws vs spells and magical effects and inflicting disadvantages on spell effects targeting me. Combine that with resistance to spells from Aura of Warding and that’s a nasty nasty combo v wizards. 

All in all Ayden’s build is an incredibly hard to target tanky support character who can move through the battlefield protecting his allies and being an absolute nightmare for enemy spellcasters. The only thing I really didn’t fully consider was just how much damage he would take from Warding Bond which totally bypasses all those wonderfully crafted defenses. As crazy as it is, I think we barely got to scratch the surface of Aydens full potential and it’s probably good those mages decided to cast spells at everyone else because Ayden was going to be a tough character for a spell caster to crack. The Commanding Rally did get to shine allowing characters who specialized in weapon attacks to get a little extra out of those 20 level commitments. Ayden’s build was crafted to keep his siblings alive and let them shine as bright as possible together. I’m very proud of him!

If you read all this then you’re as nerdy as me and deserve a reward!

[dramaticals]

DRAMIONE FIC RECS + WHY YOU SHOULD READ THEM — 100k+ words edition

hogwarts: a home by coralcollective — reimagined horcrux hunt. draco is so down bad for hermione and the smut is crazyyy. theo/hermione friendship. pansy is the breakout character and you'll love her. there's nsfw art and inappropriate use of the malfoy signet ring. please check the tags! (it says incomplete on ao3, but it's only missing epilogues so don't be afraid of starting it)

word count: 372,978

chapters: 67/70

the commoner's guide to bedding a royal by olivieblake — god, this fic!!!! it's a modern royal au and the ensemble of characters make this whole world feel so alive. it's inspired by will/kate and harry/meghan and it's sooo cute. theo and daphne were the breakout characters and i love them dearly. if you're looking for a lighthearted romcom-esque, occasionally angsty (because duh!) fic, this is it!!! i probably read this in two days which is insane considering the word count, but that should just tell you how lovely this whole fic was. there's a second part to this if you're itching for more afterwards (and it's just as good!)

word count: 503,570

chapters: 45/45

draco malfoy and the mortifying ordeal of being in love by isthisselfcare — honestly if you haven't read this yet..... this is god tier. a CLASSIC. this should be taught in the schools. hermione's a magical researcher / healer and draco's one of the best aurors out there. he's assigned to protect hermione because she's in the midst of a big discovery. hermione's not happy about it and draco isn't either. slow burn!! idiots in LOVE!! forced proximity!!!!! EMBEDDED ART!!! honestly this is the fic that made me want to learn how to bind which is so serious and if you haven't read this yet you need to.

word count: 199,548

chapters: 36/36

the disappearances of draco malfoy by speechwriter — this is my new canon. it's a deathly hallows rewrite where draco accepts dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the order. enemies to friends to lovers. i honestly can't even remember what happened in canon because this is IT for me.

word count: 289,780

chapters: 33/33

this world or any other series by olivieblake — includes clean (book one) and marked (book two). anything by olivieblake should be a must-read, i swear to god. this one starts as a year 6 slow burn. draco and hermione are assigned partners for potions and it all snowballs from there. olivie writes so beautifully and her characterizations for hermione / draco are so good. slight warning for marked: this destroyed me and i pretend it doesn't exist, but it's still a must-read.

word count: 118,892 & 178,268

chapters: 31/31 & 39/39

rights and wrongs series by lovesbitca8 — you want fluffy dramione? read the first two parts of the rights and wrongs series. you want dark and heavy dramione? read the auction, an alternate universe of the fluffy dramione, where voldemort wins and they all get auctioned off to death eaters. please check the tags for the voldy wins au! all three were chef's kiss and coming from someone who isn't a fan of dark aus, reading the first two helped me get through the auction because you know where draco's coming from / what's in his head. you can just read the auction without reading the first two parts unless you like catching parallels and having more depth / context (which i very much love).

word count: 174,911 & 160,297 & 325,876

chapters: 36/36 & 24/24 & 41/41

[prentissluvr]

the language of love isn't dead — dean winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, frenemies to lovers, petty arguments, ft. sam!, dean is annoying obviously <3, reader speaks latin (i used google translate and it is probably very wrong lol), kissing, one mention of a sexual innuendo, a few joking death threats, non-serious mentions of choking, poorly edited, 2.4K words. requested !

summary : you tend to compliment dean in the dead language of latin after fights so that he doesn't know what you really think about him.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

“you’re being ridiculous,” you frown at dean, arms crossed against your chest as you stare him down in tonight’s motel room.

“ridiculous?” he parrots, indignant. “this is baby we’re talking about. my car. you know, the ‘67 black chevy impala i would kill a man over?”

“yeah, i know her,” you reply, sarcastic in tone. “and your homicidal tendencies when it comes to her. i’m very familiar, dean.” you roll your eyes at him because you just can’t help it. dean makes it very easy to get annoyed at, for a multitude of reasons.

reason number one, he’s annoying. reason number two, he’s very hot when he’s angry. reason number three, he’s very hot pretty much all the time. it does not help that sam got first dibs on the shower, so he’s still covered in a bit of grime and blood from the hunt you just walked away from. it’s his best look, aside from any time that he smiles.

“well, then you should know that getting her perfectly tended to and polished leather seats dirty with wendy’s barbecue sauce is like a goddamn felony and i should sentence you to life of never even stepping foot near my car again,” he fires back, and if you didn’t know him well, which you do, you’d venture to guess that he’s joking. he’s not.

you groan in frustration. “for the last time, i did not get barbecue sauce on your car seats,” you insist.

“i saw you sneaking fries before we got to the room,” he counters, narrowing his eyes at you. “you could have gotten grease on the leather too.”

“i ate two fries dean, and i was careful. i used a napkin and i did not open my barbecue sauce!” you spit back at him. you can’t believe you’re arguing about this right now. except that it is so believable and so like you and him. it’s not like either one of you is going to back down, certainly not about something so petty and meaningless.

“then how come i found some in the back seat?” he says for what feels like the millionth time.

you throw your hands up in the air. “i don’t know! i don’t even use my barbecue sauce for my fries. there’s no reason for me to have opened it!” you argue, huffing out a frustrated sigh. “and how do you even know it was barbecue sauce?”

“it looked like barbecue sauce, it wasn’t there yesterday, you’re the only one who orders it and the only one who’s sat in the back since then. therefore, barbecue sauce,” he admonishes, crossing his arms over his chest to punctuate his point. you can’t help but laugh at him a little bit. he just sounds so ridiculous.

“well then, let’s say it was barbecue sauce—which it wasn’t. did the leather get damaged?” you ask pointedly.

“that doesn’t matter!” he practically rages, taking a step towards you. god, he’s beautiful and you hate him for it (you really, really love him for it). “what matters is that you got it dirty!”

“jesus, dean! just drop it, your car is fine!” you chastise, your voice raising a little in volume as you take another step towards him. you can see his light freckles better now. they’re so goddamn pretty it makes you want to choke him.

“just drop it?” he repeats, fuming. “i will not ‘just drop it.’ this is about baby. i can’t ‘just drop’ something about baby! how can i even trust you enough to let you in my car again, huh?” this is the point where he’s serious, but not that serious. there’s clear frustration and anger in his voice, but he’s stuck with you and he knows it. and when he asks that final question, his volume lessens and he shrugs. he’s looking for you to grovel or offer something to appease him. the question is whether or not to give him that. your instinct is, of course, to not. you let out a huff of breath.

“well, maybe because i’m excellent company in the car,” you suggest, a gloating tone making its way into your voice. “and i like your music better than sam does. which means we always outnumber him. that’s very important.”

he’s unimpressed, clearly. “you gotta come up with something better than that, sweetheart,” he goads.

you curl your lip at him and roll your eyes. “you absolutely suck, dean,” you state. he raises his eyebrows and you groan and roll your eyes yet again. that’s not the word to use around him unless you want a sexual innuendo thrown in your face. “you are absolutely horrible, dean,” you amend.

he laughs at you and his annoyance mostly subsides. “which means i have no problem getting back at you tenfold for getting goddamn barbecue sauce on my car seat.”

“te respicere bonum cum iratus es, ita dampnas,” you grumble, shaking your head and glaring at him. like tradition, you end the argument with a certain latin phrase full of choice words. 

now dean, sweet, lovely, silly, gorgeous dean, has no idea what you’re saying. he doesn’t care to learn enough latin for that. he doesn’t need to know, he thinks. your tone of voice says it all. he thinks those choice words are the type that one fills an insult with. today you tell him, “you look so damn good when you’re angry.” which, funnily enough, is not an insult.

it’s the perfect way of looking him in the eye and just spitting it out. you get to say without consequence what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, what you want to tell him so badly. it’s not the same as him knowing, but it helps. it eases your tension until the next time, it softens the blow a little.

sam fails to hold in his laugh behind you. you whirl around and glare at him, freshly dressed and out of the shower. you hadn’t even heard him leave the bathroom. narrowing your eyes at him, you tell your long time best friend, say something and you die. he puts his hands up in surrender, still laughing at you a little.

“shut up,” you grumble, then turn back to dean with a scowl.

“what was that little nerd exchange?” dean teases, realizing sam understood what you said.

“nothing,” you glower. “i’m showering now!” 

dean throws his hands up in protest. “you’re making me shower last after getting barbecue sauce on my car?”

“dean, i swear to the lord in heaven, if you–”

“fine, fine!” he relents, the sarcasm and teasing still clearly present in his voice. “you’re right, you should shower first, you probably have barbecue sauce all over ya.” you raise your fist in a threat and it’s dean’s turn to put his hands up in surrender. “i’m just saying!”

“stop saying!” you groan. “just– stop talking, i’m gonna lose my mind.” if i have to stare at your gorgeous face and listen to your gorgeous voice for another second i will go crazy. you sigh heavily. god, you wonder if you could survive not kissing him. monsters and demons and all the strange shit in the world… that’s fine. it sucks but, jesus, at least you know how to deal with them.

but doing it all with dean? you have no idea how to deal with that. so far, it’s by arguing with him, complimenting him in a dead language, and keeping him at an arm’s length. and so far, it’s not working out too well, because you still want him. you still want him to want you back. you still wish and wish and wish that the language of love isn’t dead, not for you and him, not yet, at least.

maybe the shower will help. this motel doesn’t have the worst showers; the water pressure is decent and the water stays hot for a while longer than some others.

you’re not annoyed when you finish, at least, not about his stupid accusations of you getting condiments on his car seats. unfortunately, you are still annoyed about how attracted you are to him. even more unfortunate, you suppose, is that you’re attracted to him, period.

you sigh because you can’t bring yourself to actually try not to be. not that anyone can reverse feelings, but you let your feelings run rampant, more than you should sometimes. you let him eat away at your heart like a goddman movie zombie that’s too stupid to remember it eats brains. then, you figure that the thought of him eats away at your brain too, because he messes with your rationality sometimes.

his eyes are on you as you leave the bathroom and you wonder if sam’s tattled on you. when you shoot him a look he shrugs and shakes his head. you’re not convinced, but you let it slide. you plop down on the pullout couch bed and pack your old clothes away, ignoring dean’s heavy gaze. only when the door to the bathroom opens and closes do you flop against the bed with a heaving sigh.

“i hate your brother,” you grumble, barely loud enough for sam to hear as the muffled sounds of the shower turning on hits your ears. you turn to your side and curl up, not even bothering to pull the sheet over yourself.

you can’t see sam, but you hear him scoff from his spot on his own bed. “sure you do,” he quips, completely sarcastic.

“no, i really, really do,” you insist, not meaning a word of it.

“well, he hates you too, then,” he answers, voice heavy with implication. you know what he means because he knows what you mean. hate, of course, is love.

“no, he doesn’t,” you counter, sad about it. you bet that no one’s ever sounded so disappointed that someone doesn’t ‘hate’ them.

“you’re hopeless.” sam’s probably shaking his head at you as he reads the words on the book in his lap.

“i’m hopeless,” you sigh.

⟢⟢⟢

it’s not until a few days later that dean confronts you about your little latin digs at him. sam did tattle, only because he’s tired of your pining, but dean won’t tell you that. he’s smart enough to know you’ll end up with your hands around sam’s neck if you end up finding out, and he’s not trying to have his… person strangle his little brother.

“hey, idiot,” he starts, the word layered with affection. “why do you always insult me in latin? sorta feels like you lose the point of insulting someone to their face like that.” 

he’s leaning against the hood of his car, beer in hand like always. it’s oddly uncommon to find yourself like this; outside, alone with him. the motel’s not busy and there are barely any other cars in the parking lot, and even less people. it’s just you and him as far as you can see. the night air is mild, cicadas singing as summer begins to slip away.

“well… maybe the point is that you know i’m saying something about you, but you don’t know what,” you shrug, sort of proud of the smooth answer. you’re not even lying. inside, you’re panicking a bit. this is dangerous territory.

“the stuff you’re saying is that horrible, huh?” his tone suggests a joke. his eyes suggest otherwise. it makes you pause. 

how unfair is it, to the both of you, to lie? to even joke that you’d say such mean things about him? about dean winchester, whom you know sort of hates himself. who has just two people by his side, you and sam.

and you, who only argues with him because it’s easier than being nice. you, who deserves what you want but won’t let yourself even try to have it.

“no,” you sigh out. “i’m not saying horrible stuff about you.” you don’t look at him, you don’t mess around. you take the joking in his voice and strip it away. you take the look in his eyes and put it in yours. it makes him look at you, for once. it’s easy to imagine his eyebrows raising, his lips caught somewhere between his signature smirk and a curious frown. “not in latin, anyways,” you add, letting a huff of laughter leak into your bitter voice.

dean keeps looking at you. you know you’re supposed to explain after saying something like that, but you’d much rather not.

“no?” he asks finally. now you have to say something more.

“no,” you confirm, still staring at the trees across the street instead of him. the street lights are orange in color, and it feels either cruel or hopeful that it’s such a beautiful night. “i… say it in latin because it’s something nice. and you can… ignore this, if you want. i say it in latin because i like you a lot, dean. y’know, more than a stupid, fucking friend.” you roll your eyes a bit, like you’re upset with yourself. then you swallow thickly and ignore the fact that you can see him in your peripheral vision. he doesn’t look like he normally does. he doesn’t look angry.

dean is torn between teasing you and kissing you. you sound mad about the fact that you have feelings for him, like you wish you didn’t. ‘more than a stupid, fucking friend’ is a real funny way to phrase things, if he’s honest with himself. the question is, does he say that to you, or does he look for something better to say? he’s not good with ‘better things to say,’ whatever that might be.

“a little aggressive for a love confession, no?” his voice isn’t even that teasing. it’s sort of gentle. he wants to slap his hand over his mouth for saying that godforsaken four letter word. you had said ‘like.’ it’s freudian slip, he supposes, since he loves you.

“this isn’t funny, dean,” you murmur, voice sort of defeated. and yet, you hear it. it’s not funny to him either. he wasn’t trying to be funny, he was trying not to feel. he was trying to say at least something, because he was having trouble coming up with anything else.

“i know,” he relents. he draws in a deep breath. “will you look at me?” your lips part, then close. you blink a few times. you turn your head and look at him. god, he loves you back. he’s got to, or there’s no other way to explain how he looks at you.

and there’s definitely no other way to explain him kissing you. he looks you right in the eyes and he leans in until his lips are touching yours. 

his eyes flutter closed, yours follow. you kiss him back, he kisses harder. the language of love isn’t dead. all you had to do was say something.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Big Spoon

Non-Idol Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: Who knew he'd wake up bleary-eyed to find her a mess, one that was out of her control and his - or so he thought.

Genre: Fluffish

Warnings: None (just mentions of sad puppies)

Word Count: 1.3 k

Est.Read Time: 10 min

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

"What are you doing?" He sat up, squinting at his lover who was sitting with her headphones on, blasting God knows what at 2 am. Good lord, no wonder the bed seemed so lonely and-

"Why are you awake?" She snapped at him, causing him to flinch, his little pout and amusing bed hair had her mentally scolding herself for the outburst, he was sitting there half asleep, half awake, though completely ready to get to the bottom of this mystery. She took a deep breath before biting her lip and mumbling, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to sound mean, client called and Hongjoong needed more photos so I uh...got up to do it now so I won't have to do it later- just because that lady's rich. " Turning the chair to face him she winced slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice it, though how would it be Choi San if he didn't?

"What's wrong?" He asked pushing the covers off as he sat at the edge of the bed, feet planted on the cold floor. The moment of clarity allowed him to notice the small hot water bottle on her lap, and the cup of green tea in front of her beside a giant flask and a tissue box- "Were you crying?" He cooed, getting up to go closer only for her to whine and roll her chair back, keeping her distance.

"Hey, come on." He pouted before jumping at her causing her to gasp, only to realise he had held onto the armrests of her chair, locking her in place, "What happened?"

"I-it...nothing." She mumbled, averting her gaze, in no real mood for anything at the moment, she just wanted to finish editing these photos and- "Does it hurt here?" He asked, gently placing his palm against her belly, causing her to whine and try to push it away, only for him to shake his head  and remove his hand, instead using it to cup her cheek, "Let me guess, you got the call, they asked you for something that makes no sense, and shark week hit mid brooding session?"

Her eyes widened by the end of his little monologue, as she nodded, staring at him in awe like a little girl who had just met a fairy, well, he was a fairy, a rather feline-looking fairy she could call her own. Elegant, yet endearing, soft and warm yet as solid as a rock, smart yet, just a little dumb- either way, he was her pretty, cute, little fairy- though if he heard this analogy he'd probably be throwing a fit for days, claiming he was anything BUT A FAIRY- he was, as he'd like to call himself and his bros (minus Wooyoung because frankly she had realised he was the only sensible one in the lot)  A KING!

"How did you know?" Her lips quirked upwards when he leaned closer to place a soft kiss atop her head, a gesture that would oddly make her all putty in his hands.

"Because I'm the world's best boyfriend." His voice boomed across the quiet room causing her to cover her ears due to heightened sensitivity, before frowning up at him

"The world's best boyfriend missed one thing though."

His shoulders deflated at the statement, and he flopped backwards on the bed dramatically, his back landing with a loud huff, "And what is that?"

"I was crying cause- " her breath hitched as the memories resurfaced,  "Some dogs go through depression and this puppy did too- I was watching the video and it was so sad...Sannie" she whined, calling him out for God knows but the flashing images of the puppy and the stupid client's appeal just bothered her even more, the cherry on top was the excruciating pain that was a constant reminder of how the world is too cruel to women.

Not a moment later she was gently pulled out of her chair, engulfed in a warm embrace as his familiar scent enveloped her senses, work left behind, as she felt the soft, warm pillow- nope that was his arm, "My head's heavy," with a small mumble she tried to move, but he clicked his tongue and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head, "And my heart is heavy....my poor baby is in so much physical and emotional pain and I can't do anything about it-"

"We're never getting a puppy."

"I- um...okay?" He mused, giving her a gentle squeeze, of course, that one video of the sad puppies would make her come up with this verdict, possibly fuelled by her hormones. Making her laugh right now probably wasn't the easiest task, which is why he resorted to asking her the real question, though gentle toned and carefully curated, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on her back as he approached the topic, "I thought you sent the client all they asked for, did they want something out of the contract?"

With a loud huff she began, only to pause for a moment when another cramp hit, her fingers gripping his shirt as she took a deep breath before speaking (venting), "Apparently some of the guests, who refused to take solos then, now want their solo pics because the others who did get their solos taken got good results- like flattery will get you nowhere, I can't pull out your solo pics from my as-ah shit, " she hissed, trying to move, "I need my heating pad." He was quicker than her, jumping over her, letting out a hearty laugh when he heard her squeak and let out a few vulgar words. As quick and agile as a cat he hopped back on the bed, turning her on her back as he placed it on her lower belly, "There, all better?"

Nodding she placed her hands on the pad, pressing it against her skin before sighing, continuing, "Anyway, someone was like oh can you like crop us out and put us somewhere to turn it into our logo- you mean cut you out and paste the image, spend time blending, shading, fixing the highlights- no, because its not in the contract and I'm not being paid more for this."

"I...wow..." he mumbled, running his fingers through her hair soothingly as he sat beside her, looking down at her only to notice her trembling power lip and glossy eyes, "What's...wrong...baby, you don't have to do anything that wasn't under your contract." He hummed, tracing his fingertips over the slightly warmer skin of her forehead absentmindedly, "You want me to talk to -"

"That puppy was so sad, he looked like he wanted to cry and..." Turning to her side, as she closed her eyes, the rush of emotions getting a bit to strong, the tears leaking through her clenched eyes, hugging herself. This was stupid, she had ruined his sleep, woke him up in the middle of the night, snapped at him, told him stories that were irrelevant and then ended up crying about a video on puppies.

"I like being the big spoon."

Oh- that's why she felt so warm, and-

"How is laying on top of me the bigger spoon, you're crushing me."

"I'm protecting you from the bad vibes. Told you Hongjoong as a boss sucks, man's a capitalist monster."

With a sigh she relaxed in his hold, the added weight actually helping with the pain, both, physical and psychological.

"To sleep, you should stop thinking, leave your worries, for tomorrow's you." He sighed, giving her another squeeze, though he didn't recieve any response to his wise words, he could get them printed, "You asleep?" He whispered peeking over her shoulder only to smile,  two hours, they'd been awake for two hours, listening to God knows what she was going through, biological and induced. Either way, he was glad that she had the world's best boyfriend, he'd probably boast about this tomorrow to her, when she's in a better mood, when she's well rested and probably complaining once again, about how Hongjoong finding the dumbest, but richest clients. Need not worry, she'd always have someone loyal, sincere and the best big spoon out there- all her's.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky

[agroteraa]

Never Be Like You

Felix Catton x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Summary: AU where Saltburn's ending never happened. Felix lived happily up to 2016 (and on), where he met you at your new job. Meaning he is around 29 here and you are younger.

Yes, a fic based on THAT Jacob Elordi edit

Using the song "Never Be Like You" by Flume feat. Kai

Shout-out to Kasey @kcsvids ❤️

Tags: fluff, implied slow burn, AU.

Word Count: 3,8K

Early August in London this year was quite rainy, but fortunately, the day you had to go around the city with the documents turned out to be surprisingly sunny and pleasant. It was the second month of your new job.

The bell on the door in the coffee shop tinkled as you went inside in search of your senior colleague, whose errands you had been running for half the day.

"Annabel, hi! I’ve signed the documents, made copies and notarized them. Here are the originals in the folder, and here are the copies," you said, sitting down on the opposite chair and rummaging in your bag, taking out all the necessary papers.

"Oh, thank you, Y/N! I expected that you would only have time to pick up the documents, and you have already done everything! Cool, you're doing great!" the girl smiled at you, and then added, "Our new capable young employee."

She said this to a young man in a colored seemingly expensive shirt who was sitting relaxed close to her on the couch and drinking coffee. He looked at you with a smile while Annabel was having a dialogue with you and complimenting you on the work done. God. This was the guy from your job, whom you saw rarely and from afar, but you really wanted to know more about him. You didn't even know his name because you were too shy to ask, and besides, you didn't talk close yet to people in your new place.

"Felix. Felix Catton," he introduced himself, extending his long arm across the table.

"Y/N," you answered a little timidly, shaking his hand. His fingers were no less long than the hand itself, and his palm was warm, "Um... Y/N L/N."

"Okay, I have to run, bye, Ann," the guy kissed her on the cheek, threw some money on the table and smiled at you again, "It was nice to meet you, a new capable young employee."

Young. Not that young, it was your second full-time job after graduating from the university, but of course you were younger than the two of them. Annabel, as far as you knew, was almost 29 years old. Felix was probably about the same age, it was hard for you to tell. It seemed that he could be aged from 23 to 33, given that he looked so youthful and lively.

"So... does he work for our company? It seems that I saw him in the office, but very rarely..." you tried to find out information about this man from Annabel as casually as possible.

"Yes, Felix has... a more of a free schedule. His father is a co–owner of the company. So, he is not particularly worried about being a worker of the year. However, it's not like I live at work either," Annabel began to tell you openly. It seems you had already realized that she was also a pretty laid-back person, "So… What are you ordering?"

Despite your protests, Annabel ordered and paid for you coffee and lunch anyway, and then continued, "We studied at Oxford together. You could say he helped me get a job here later."

Oh. You got it. It seems that the picture in your head had finally begun to take shape. It became clear to you why some people worked hard from early morning till night in the same office as someone came at lunchtime at best and generally behaved as if they had known each other half their lives. Because that how it was. Many of them were Oxonians, and had known each other since the university, and some even from boarding schools. Of course, you also received a decent education, but it was nothing compared to Oxford. But this was also often not only about education, but also about lifestyle in general. Your family was not any close to be called poor, but still it was not comparable to this level of life, and you were able to get a current job only because of your hard work and probably decent amount of luck.

You felt a little sad at the thought that for them you probably were a girl who came out of nowhere and did the paperwork, and it was very possible that you would remain that way in their eyes. In Felix's eyes, in particular. That was how you imagined his life as a golden boy, who was apparently at this stage of his life employed in his own parents' company, where he did not need to make any effort to stay there and at the same time receive a round sum of money. Usually it also led to a certain lifestyle.

While Annabel was stirring her coffee with a spoon, you noticed an engagement ring on her hand, which you didn't seem to notice before or just didn't pay attention to.

"Oh... can I... congratulate you?" you asked, barely hiding your awkwardness, "Is it... Felix?"

"Yes, thank you… What? Felix?" the girl laughed, "No. We used to date back at the university, and after that… Well, now we are not. I can't imagine Felix as a fiancé or husband. To be honest, I don't think he can either. He's a pretty free spirit, let's put it this way."

You exhaled and nodded, on the one hand satisfied with the answer, and on the other hand you were upset and got into thinking even more. Yes, it seemed that you two were different, too different, and it came to be clear in just a half an hour on a lunch.

But that didn't stop you from thinking about him anyway for the whole next month. He still rarely came to the office, but now he nodded and smiled broadly if he saw you. You even chatted briefly a couple of times in the hallway and over a cup of coffee in the office kitchen. You still didn't know what he really was like, but he seemed nice and friendly, even though he was always in a hurry for somewhere else. Or someone else. You couldn't help but still look forward to these short meetings.

And that how the autumn came.

"Well, lucky you, Y/N – it seems that a small anniversary of three months of your work here coincides with our seasonal party," sipping from her cup, Annabel informed you, "Once in a season we go out somewhere with the whole team. Well, to be more exact – with the least boring group of people here. Come with us? We're thinking of going to a club this time."

You willingly agreed, pleased that you were invited to this party. After all, it was not for nothing that you'd been Annabel's indispensable assistant, helping her out all the time. And, to be honest, you did a lot of her own work for her. And also you hoped that you and her began to get closer in personal level, even though you were quite different, it was still quite a fun.

Week later, you were hurrying along the streets while looking at the navigator where exactly the club that Annabel was talking about was located. You were late because you spent a lot of time on dressing up and doing makeup. You wanted to make an impression and you were a little nervous. Nervous because all this time you were wondering if Felix would come or not. You were worried about both scenarios, but you still wanted him to come first of all, even though you had no idea what and how should happen next.

The place greeted you with loud enough but pleasant music and colorful lighting. Your colleagues were sitting on the sofas nearby. Annabel waved cheerfully, "Y/N! We're here! Hi! Yes, you're not even the last one, so make yourself comfortable."

You greeted everyone who was sitting. You felt quite awkward, because you didn't communicate with everyone at least on the same level you did with Annabel, but you hoped that the evening would go well and that you didn't come in vain. And it turned out to be quite alright, but anyway, part of your thoughts was roaming whether Felix would come or not.

"Okay, guys, and now we'll drink to the Y/N! She's been helping me a lot lately. Y/N, I hope this is just the beginning of your work with us!" Annabel toasted.

"To a new young capable employee!" said a velvety deep voice behind you. You turned around. Felix stood behind, dressed in a white shirt and jeans. He had a shot glass in his hand and he had some kind of red cowboy hat on a rope behind his neck and back.

You all clinked drinks together and then started to sit back down on the sofas.

"Hello, Y/N," Felix smiled broadly at you, "Glad you were invited too."

"Oh, Felix, where have you been?" your colleagues began to ask him as he sat down with them and began to tell about being stuck in another club and then getting through traffic jams here to you all.

"Unexpectedly. I thought he wasn't coming, huh," you said softly to Annabel.

"Why wouldn't Felix come to the party? It's not like going to office meetings, you know," the girl chuckled.

You continued to chat with Annabel this evening. Felix, unfortunately, did not approach you, and seemingly had fun chitchatting with all the people on the couch in front of you, although he kept glancing at you, so it seemed to you. But maybe it just seemed, because you had been drinking for the first time in a long time, and your head was already starting to feel a little dizzy.

But over time, your interlocutor talked more and more about her own with her long-time colleagues and friends, until she almost completely forgot about your presence. You began to feel gradually lonely in this company. Maybe you were right. A girl from nowhere who couldn’t even afford too many drinks in this place in central London, who was helping Oxford graduates who were, are and will be fine, with paperwork they weren’t really willing to do. But it was better to splurge on another drink than to sit and think all these thoughts.

Walking through the crowd to the bar, you stood in line and chose what to take for yourself. Something strong, but not very expensive, if possible.

"You have a small anniversary in our company today. It should be celebrated," a pleasant voice spoke softly almost in your ear. Turning your head to the side, you found Felix, who was leaning almost his entire body against the counter. He had definitely had a drink and was even more relaxed and cheerful than usual, "It's all on me, of course."

You protested a little, but Catton quickly dismissed all objections, taking two drinks for you at once and one glass for himself, "And this is about time you tell me how do you find the work here with us, where you came from and generally about yourself."

You headed back to the sofa with drinks. Since the path was laying through the dancing crowd, and you had two glasses in your hands, Felix held you protectively, placing his hand on your back and guiding you through all the people, making sure that no one would touch you. The feeling of his big warm hand on your back, on your skin, half-opened due to the design of the dress, definitely excited you and gave you goosebumps.

Some people from your company, including Annabel, was already gone to the dance floor, so you sat down on an empty sofa together and started talking. It was very uneasy and unusual for you to see Felix so close to you, also in such an informal setting. His big brown eyes looked at you attentively while you talked a little about yourself, about your education, how you got a job at this company, what you were doing here and who you started communicating with. What dark fluffy eyelashes he had. He was so handsome. You blushed a little and got embarrassed, but still, because of the abundance of information that you had to tell him, your brain was a little distracted and calmed down.

"That's great, Y/N. You're so... hardworking. And, apparently, you’ve achieved a lot on your own. That's very cool," Felix nodded with a serious face.

"Well, I haven't achieved anything special yet that I would really like, but thank you for the kind words. It's great that you're interested in your future subordinates."

"Oh, so you know? Well... we'll see about that. My dad is a co–owner of the company, but not the owner. So, it's not at all a fact that I'm going to manage over here," Felix was a little embarrassed and cleared his throat, "And I don't know what's going to happen next, I don't guess into the future for that long… Maybe I'll go abroad somewhere, like I've already done before, huh."

Then Felix began to tell about some parts of his own life - a little about his childhood, about studying at Oxford, what he did there and where he went later. He was quite modest and obviously tried not to emphasize his fabulously luxurious lifestyle, but this was the kind of thing that could not be completely kept to oneself. This manifested itself even in behavior and appearance, not to mention the stories.

But you liked, you really did like talking to him. With all that said, Felix Catton had a talent for making you feel like you were welcome, that you were no worse than him, that your lifestyle was no less boring or less important when he wanted to grant his attention. Even if you were completely different. You were listened to very attentively.

Due to this feeling, combined with his appearance and charisma in general, you were ready to never get up from this couch, if only your conversations would last forever.

But the forever ended quickly when Felix's friends yanked him onto the dance floor. Friends, and maybe not only friends. It seemed that many female colleagues and just a lot of the girls nearby were staring endlessly and smile charmingly at him in the hope of getting more of his attention. Of course, you could understand that oh so well. But all the same, you were upset that your chances were probably much less than those of all his acquaintances in his circle. Even if it was just about a sort of a close communication.

You finished your second drink and went to get another one. While you were standing in line, one of this year's hits started playing in the hall. A gentle female voice began to tell her story:

What I would do to take away

This fear of being loved, allegiance to the pain

Now I fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

I would give anything to change this like-minded heart

That loves fake shiny things

Now I fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

You couldn't take your eyes off Felix, who was having fun in the middle of the crowd – he was giving himself up to the music, dancing to the beat. Green, blue and sometimes purple spots of light slid across his face and his clothes. How graceful and natural he was now, as if he had been born on the dance floor.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

Felix completely broke up and went dancing at the pole jokingly. You didn't know if he was already so tipsy or just so relaxed naturally to that extent, but you couldn't look away with your mouth slightly opened. He was holding onto the pole with one hand, and with the other he was waving in the air, also swinging his hips.

How do I make you wanna stay

Hate sleeping on my own

Missing the way you taste

Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

Stop looking at me with those eyes

Like I could disappear and you wouldn't care why

Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you

Never be like you

Your heart sank. Even though this song was about trying to bring back an existing relationship, it still somehow resonated especially with you right now. Particularly the line "Never be like you", which seemed to repeat your thought, which you carefully tried to hide from yourself tonight. You would never be like Felix.

The crowd gathered at the bar gradually pushed the gawking and not moving you closer to the dance floor, where Catton noticed you.

"Hey, Y/N, why are you just standing there so lost? Join me," the guy said cheerfully, slightly pulling you by the hand closer to him.

You started dancing together, he put on his red hat on to make you laugh a little. He was smiling widely, swaying from side to side bewitchingly in front of you.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

His white shirt was unbuttoned now, apparently, he had been hot for a while. Beads of sweat gathered on his skin and disappeared with him in the rays of the strobe light from time to time, which shone behind his back. In such lighting, it seemed as if he was moving in slow motion, and that was all a beautiful movie in which you accidentally fell into the place of the main character. But it wasn't a fantasy, it was your night right now.

I'm falling on my knees

Forgive me, I'm a fucking fool

I'm begging darling please

Absolve me of my sins, won't you

You wanted this moment to last forever. And unlike the conversation on the couch, it really felt like it was happening, like in a dream that no one dared to break. You were drowning in his magnetic gaze and smile, which he was giving only to you now. He was like Prince Charming of the 2010’s.

I'm only human can't you see

I made, I made a mistake

Please just look me in my face

Tell me everything's okay

'Cause I got it

Never be like you

Baby, baby please believe me

Come on take it easy

Please don't ever leave me... oooh

Never be like you

You mentally repeated the last lines of this song until your face itself took on a slightly pleading look. Felix seemed to catch it and touched your shoulder. His lips parted in the desire to say something, but he just stood there for a few seconds in silence, as if considering what to say and do next.

"... by the way, you look great today. I mean, your office looks are cute too, but this… You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he said after a while.

You smiled sheepishly as you continued to dance, drifting back into a musical and slightly alcoholic trance until it was interrupted by several of Felix's friends and your colleagues.

"Buddy, we've going home," the guys shook hands, and then started talking about some of their business. You moved a little to the side, and as soon as you did that, Felix slowly began to be surrounded by familiar and not so very familiar people. You went for a cocktail, and then headed to the couch, where you started talking to a colleague of yours. You kept glancing in Felix's direction at the same time, but he still didn't come up, engrossed in talking and some dancing.

After saying goodbye to your colleague, who also left, you finished your cocktail and finally decided to check your phone. Oh. You didn't know it was so late. You started looking for a taxi, but it costed a lot right now. Confused, you sat alone, staring at the screen and sucking from a straw a mix of melted ice and a cocktail from the bottom of a glass.

"Please pardon me for leaving you for a while," the hot hand laid on your back and then its owner appeared behind it, who plopped down on the sofa next to you. He looked at you with slightly regretful doe eyes, "Are you... leaving already?"

"Yes, it's very late, and there's a lot to do tomorrow… But the taxi is still expensive, I guess I'll wait a little longer."

"What are you talking about? I'll get you a car right now," Felix took out his phone and began to quickly type something on it.

"Oh, come on, don't..."

"Hey. We're celebrating your anniversary at work, our new best employee. Have you already forgotten?" the guy interrupted you, grinning, "Tell me your address, please."

You gave your address, Catton smiled slightly.

Five minutes later, a business class taxi pulled up to the club. You just went outside, and the warm air of an early autumn night pleasantly enveloped you after the hot and stuffy nightclub.

"Is this really my car?" you were amazed. Felix turned his head to the left and right, and then, leaning over, said in a serious tone, "I don't see any exactly the same beautiful girl waiting for exactly the same taxi, and do you?"

You giggled and blushed noticeably. There was a pause hanged in the night air.

"Thanks for your company, Y/N. I'm glad you're with us now. I hope we'll see each other more often from now on."

You looked him straight in the eye, and then nodded slightly and slowly.

"Good night. Please text when you... Ah..." Felix rolled his eyes at himself, "I don't have your phone number."

He looked down, shaking his head and chewing lightly on his lip. A knot tied in your stomach. Felix. Catton. Asked. You. Your. Number. It might had been more of a common courtesy, of course, but your heart started beating a lot faster anyway. Of course, you dictated your phone number to him, which made him full of ill-concealed joy. Having recorded it in his smartphone, he said, as if nothing had happened, "Yeah, great, now I have a place to text to find out how you got home," and put you in a taxi.

He gently touched your shoulders once more when he put you in the car. He pressed his lips almost weightlessly to your ear, "Good night again, Y/N. Thank you for this evening," his mumble was very warm and pleasant, you felt your hair rising on your skin.

Watching the taxi leave, from which window you looked at him back, Felix lit a cigarette. He was smiling widely and contentedly, exhaling smoke and slightly twitching his whole body on the spot from another surge of energy. He was obviously going to attend the work more often from now on.

[miguelsslvt]

punk! miguel x innocent! reader

word count: 879

TW: nsfw, smoking, hair-pulling, corruption, swearing, creampie.

request: @sukioyakio ★

A/N: this isn't edited and is poorly made so i'm so sorry. also can i just say thank you so much for over 600 notes on my first drabble?? oh my gosh?? anyways, enjoy and welcome to the club! ^^

imagine punk! miguel being the 'bad rep' of the school. in the 3rd year of college, he took physics, chemistry and spanish language. he would smoke behind the science classrooms, refuse to wear clothes that he calls 'society norms' like a blazer or a button up, and instead wear a black leather jacket with pins like 'pink floyd', or 'anarchist' all around it. he would yell, slander and mock almost every teacher whenever he's in class (which is very rare).

most of the girls honestly adored him, apart from the odd popular girl or two finding him too 'annoying' or too 'muscly' for their liking. he didn't give two shits, he already knew his body count was probably higher then their grades.

but then there's you. sweet, innocent little y/n. where most college students spent their weekends partying, you spent it in your dorm room re-reading 'moby dick' for the 6th time. you took phsycology, english literature and spanish language. and if you were completely honest, the only reason you chose spanish language is because your boyfriend at the time (now ex) was spanish. god, did you regret picking it for him.

you noticed miguel, like every other person in the school would. but your first time was different. you were running late, extremely late for your first class of the day. damn you, alarm. that's when you noticed miguel, outside science block, groaning.

despite being late, you took a curious peek at what the man was groaning about.

'stupid fucking lighter..' he mumbled, trying to light his cigarette, but failing. you knew better then to interfere, to even speak to the most intimidating man in college. but, for some reason, you ended up giving him your lighter.

'thanks, you smoke? i can give you one for a trade.' miguel said, as you smiled so sweetly. you explained how you didn't smoke, or did anything like that, and that you only carried a lighter 'just in case of emergencies'.

that's when miguel's interest in you piqued. you were such a sweet, innocent girl, and that drove something in him. something that he didn't realise he wanted. he usually only went for girls with his taste and style, girls he'd meet at festivals or clubs and were either high as heck or sexy goths. but you, you were different.

soon enough, he realised you were only in his spanish language classes, and that you weren't the best at it. perfect. your weakness was miguel's strength.

that's how you ended up in this situation. bent over miguell's desk in his dorm, mumbling his name as hee proceeded to sbuse his way into your sweet cunt.

'you want to tutor me..? that would be so nice miguel!' you had said so excitedly, there was a spanish exam coming up and miguel so kindly offered to tutor you the friday night. and being so naive and quite desperate for the help, you happily accepted.

his room was filled with different posters and signs like his favourite bands, anarchistic posters, stickers saying things like 'fuck the government!'. his leather jacket was discarded somewhere on the messy floor, as his hands grasped your hips to push you even deeper onto his cock.

'm-miguel.. m-miguel please!' you whined, your mascara running down your face.

he just chuckled, as he pulled your hair lightly, moving you onto the bed as he laid you down on your back, as he started bullying into your pussy once again. he was so mean.

your light blue dress was somewhere on the floor, ripped to shreds. it was your favourite dress, but you had other things to think about at the moment.

'yeah.. you like that, cariño? you like being fucked like a slut? not used to being so used, are you?' miguel teased, as you just moaned in response. he hadn't realised that fucking a cute little angel could be this enticing. fuck, he could get used to this.

'i.. miguel! i-i've never-' 'shh.. i know, i know, a sweet girl like you hasn't ever been treated this way.. i'm sorry for being so rough, but i dunno.. the way you're tightening around me suggests you like the harshness..' he said, his hand wiping your mascara-smudged cheeks. your body was submitting to him in every way possible, and he felt like a starved predator being fed for the first time in years.

'i-is it normal to feel l-like this..?' you whimpered, eyes shut from the pleasure. 'yes.. yes my sweet girl it's very normal to feel like this.. let me give you all the pleasure you've missed out on.' miguel whispered in your ear, as he started thrusting faster and faster, pushing you over to the edge.

you let out a loud moan, your back arching as you came. the way you clenched onto him drove miguel over the edge too. his thrusts became erratic and sloppy, as he let out one more groan as he came deep inside you.

you were panting, your eyes still shut. he pulled out slowly, placing a sweet kiss on your temple. 'god you're so cute..' miguel whispered to you, as you just whimpered in response. he chuckled deeply.

god, he might just get addicted to such a good innocent little thing like you.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

[monophobicseraph]

Incorrect Quotes (EPIC; The Musical Edition)

Odysseus: We have a problem. Penelope: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Penelope: How would you like your coffee? Odysseus: As dark and as bitter as my soul. Penelope, shouting to someone behind the counter: I need one vanilla latte with extra cream and sugar!

Hermes: Let’s not Odysseus this into a worse situation than it already is. Odysseus: Did you just use my name as a verb?

Hermes, looking at Odysseus: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.

Telemachus: When do you usually go to sleep? Athena : Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the gods.

Athena : You either buckle down and do your work or you’ll end up at McDonalds. Telemachus: We're going to McDonalds if I don't do my work? Athena : NO-

Athena : You know what’s funny about Telemachus? They’re my best friend, and anyone who’d hurt them is someone I’d murder, probably.

[moonystoes]

Tiktok Trend - Elisa De Almeida

Summary: you and Elisa decide to hard launch by doing a tiktok trend.

A/n: heyyy!! This was actually my first ever fic (January 5th) and I completely forgot about it until I decided to clean up my notes app and couldn't even recognize it. It's quite short ( and a mess) but sweet. Enjoy!!!

"Okay let's do this tiktok trend you showed me!" Elisa jumped up from the beige couch excitedly. It was you who showed her the tiktok trend where couples tell the camera what they like and hate about each other, but it wasn't your intention to film one. She was skeptical about posting a lot of photos of you on her account, worried if her fans would bother you. And although it annoyed you at first that she's hiding you, it made you warm that she's doing all of this for your comfort.

But fanpages had already found your accounts on tiktok and instagram, stalking your posts and going through your stories every time you post. At first it made you uncomfortable, but you had accepted it for the sake of elisa. Some of them are nice, ones that you look through their edits and content and smile. But of course there were some that sent you weird messages about leaving their 'wife'.

"Are you sure it's a good idea? I haven't posted tiktoks about you yet."

"I mean... do you not want to? It's your account. And besides, you have already posted photos of me on Instagram so they're aware of us." Her sudden energy slightly deflated when she heard your hesitant tone.

"Yes! I don't mind it at all. Ehm... okay sit next to me and I'll prop my phone here." You pointed next to you on the couch, grabbing your phone and angling it on the coffee table perfectly to show the both of you.

You took a deep breath as you opened tiktok. You knew there was no going back once you do this, they will either love you or completely harass you.

"Hey I'm here with elisa and we have to say one thing we hate about each other." You touched your hair, making sure it's not a mess. Elisa can sense you being worried, she softly intertwined her hand with your other one.

"Why hate? Why not love?" She fake frowned, "wow is there no love in your heart?" She looked at the camera with a raised eyebrow in fake-shock.

"Oh my god!" You rolled your eyes, "we will start with hate and then love. So if you get pissed at what I hate about you, you'd feel better about the love." You played with her thin cross bracelet, your eyes zoning out at the sight of her veiny hand. She looked back at you with a sarcastic angry face and a soft hum.

"Okay who will start?" She asked. Her gaze softening when she realized that you're not listening. She squeezed your hand, making you look up towards her face with a slight flushed face.

It was obvious that her hands and arms were distracting to you, she had noticed your fascination to them since your first date. At first she thought there was something like a sauce or maybe a bug on her hand when your eyes kept going down there, but there wasn't a thing there and it didn't take her long to understand.

"I'll start," she whispered, "I don't like it when you...always put others first, sometimes you need to be selfish and think about yourself." She whispered, her other hand playing with the button of your shirt.

You looked away to stop the blushing, realizing that if you looked at her eyes you'd probably stammer and never end up saying what you want. The amount PDA she's doing is stressing you a little, worried what the media would think. "What I don't like about you is... the tech fleece." You laughed at the way her face dropped.

"Are you serious? Mine was so romantic and yours is just so mean!" She let go of your hand, turning to the camera and folding her arms over her chest. "Wow you guys are witnessing a break up right now. The best thing about you is...the break up right now."

"Okay whatever, the best part about you is-"

"My hands!"

"Huh?" You looked at her face in confusion. She burst out laughing, her head tilting back and her hands clutching her side.

When realization hit, your face had a small shameful frown. You really thought you were slick admiring them, but she obviously knows you a little too much.

"Whatever, my favorite part about you is your smile." Elisa brushed off your reaction as she responded. She placed her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into her side, a soft smile blossomed in your face at the mention.

You hoped your blush was not obvious when you looked back at the small screen. You reached for the phone and ended the video, making a quick caption: "She got mad but it's the truth and you guys know it too."

You threw the phone to Elisa, obviously too scared to press 'post'. She held into your hand tightly and did it for you, before turning to look at you and shrugging, "done."

Since your job was at the evening, it wasn't hard to avoid your phone all day. It was until 10pm when the both of you cuddled in bed. Elisa's face was resting on the nape of your neck, she tapped your arm quickly as she huffed in frustration.

You stopped scrolling on Twitter to glare at her, "what?"

"Tiktok time before we sleep," she lifted her head to give you a pout, making you giggle and roll your eyes. It has been a routine for you to go on tiktok and her just staring at your screen before sleeping. The first time it happened was when you had your first night at her apartment, and you can vividly recall her face trying to pretend that she wasnt looking at your screen until you called her out for it.

"Fine," you laughed and went on tiktok, but the '99+' notifications reminded you of the video you made. Elisa noticed your uneasy look, before pressing the little envelope to see them.

The video already had around 50k likes, which was surprising since your usual ones get around 3000 only. You scrolled through the comments, many of them were in Portuguese since she's mostly popular in Brazil.

"You know... I don't feel so bad now that I don't speak Portuguese, because I don't wanna know what all of this is about."

Elisa sat up and grabbed your phone from your hands, she leaned in closer to your screen since she wasn't wearing her glasses, "umm...some of them are crying about me not being single, and...about us being touchy."

You remained quiet for a second, "so none of them are rude to me, yeah?" You glanced at her face as she turned to look at you, "don't lie, I wanna know what they think about me."

Elisa leaned in close and hugged you, she can hear the insecurity in your voice, "none of them are mean to you, I promise. They're just hurt that this sexy, hot, talented, beautiful woman has a girlfriend. But that's it."

You sarcastically pushed her away, "you don't even describe me that way."

She laughed and continued scrolling. By now, the comments became more international. Arabic, Spanish, French, English and more. You can understand some of them, which made your body relax when you realized Elisa was somewhat right.

"Omg what 💀💀"

"Noooooooo she's not single wtf"

"Please why is Elisa so touchy (im gonna cry I wish that was me)"

"Guys be nice to the poor girl, she looks so stressed posting this. We need to let her know that she's loved and appreciated by us 💞💞 (we need more content of elisa tho, plz y/n 🙏)"

"Please why are they cute"

"OMG WAG?? WE NEED SERIOUS WAG SERIES Y/N IF YOU'RE WATCHING THIS PLEASE"

"I think I just heard my heart get crushed. As long as she's happy"

"Why is Elisa with someone like that? She deserves way better 🤮"

Your eyes quickly looked away from the phone. Of course you'll get hate. There is no way you can please the millions that are thirsting for her.

Since Elisa's English isn't the best, it took her way longer to read that comment than you. She glanced at you as you were adjusting your pillow, preparing yourself to sleep.

She sighed and turned off your phone, reaching out to put it delicately on your nightstand, "baby...you know that they're just jealous of you, right?"

She placed her hand on you side and pulled you closer. She hated how you weren't facing her, it made it harder for her to see your features and emotions.

"You're the most beautiful and pure woman I've ever seen, I love everything about you and they clearly don't know anything for them to say a thing," she can feel your tense body slowly relax, "the truth is...dating someone that's famous, there are so many childish teens being obsessed and have no respect for others. It doesn't matter what that person says, because I'm happy with you and I hope I make you feel the things you make me feel."

You slowly turned around to face her, a soft grateful smile in your sleepy face, "I love you, and I'm so happy I bumped into you that day...I don't care what they say, I just hope I don't disappoint them."

"You'll never disappoint me, and they got to see only a minute of us...while I get 24 hours of you."

It softened your heart talking to her about all of this, feeling a little lighter after having this conversation. Within the 6 months of you dating, you were too scared to bring this topic up. And Elisa knew about it but waited for the moment you were comfortable enough to speak.

You leaned in closer to her as you placed your palm on her cheek, pulling her in to give her a peck. Elisa pulled you in closer to deepen the kiss, "I love you so much, y/n. I would make a whole tiktok account to bully the bullies if I had to."

You cackled at the comment, resting your head on her chest, "I love you too...but please don't do that,"

"Hmm...I just want to protect my princess," she joked.

"Goodnight, Eli."

"Goodnight."

___

~ Pleaseee hit my inbox if you have ideas because this was the last one in my brain

~ sorry if this isn't the best, I genuinely didn't know how to make it right

[currymanganese]

Fak is too involved in Carmy and Claire's relationship. From giving Claire Carmy's number to showing up at her job with his equally annoying brother. He needs to mind his business and stop assuming what Carmy wants. In s3 ep9 Fak tells Claire he thinks (then later says knows) Carmy loves her. If you don't know Carmy's true feelings about her, why tf are you speaking for him?

Also sometimes it seems like Carmy doesn't even like Fak like that. They rarely have one-on-one scenes together and their conversations are mostly surface leveI. I always thought Fak and Richie were closer. In s2 ep3, when Claire and Carmy are talking on the phone, Carmy says Fak isn't his best friend (but then backtracks 5 seconds later saying he's probably my best friend). Then in s3 ep5 when they are preparing for the photoshoot, Fak said Carmy was #1 on his best friends list. The friendship is obviously unbalanced. Fak is one of those childhood friends you have outgrown but keep in your life due to history and familiarity. This is just another example of Carmy being stuck in the past and not being able to let go. He either needs to set some boundaries with Fak or end the friendship.

I love your blog btw. Your analysis on The Bear are very thorough.

*EXTREMELY HOT TAKE INCOMING*

Thanks for the kind compliments / thanks for the ask, but I'm starting to think that, if my suspicions are correct, that depending on how season 4 goes, that she and The Faks may shape up to be fantastic characters, at least from a trollish comedic parody perspective - and that this may be a huge 'star making role' for Molly Gordon and the rest of actors cast as the Faks if what is being set up is executed well post-reveal, and they demonstrate that, contrary to what we have seen thus far on the show, they definitely have acting range.....

Because I'm like 88% sure now that Claire x Carmy x Sydney's love triangle is an allegory/deconstructed (in part) version of Lilith x Adam x Eve from apocryphal / Jewish tradition. And that 'Sammy' Fak may be an archangel Samael figure

Lilith is Adam's first wife apocryphally and in Jewish mysticism that left him and became a she-demon / mother of demons / the "queen of the night" after being impregnated by / becoming a consort of the archangel Samael (whose name means Venom of God and is a seducing/destroying angel).

My thoughts are too incoherent right now to make a post about this theory in its own right, but all of the above could explain why the scenes where Claire is physically intimate with Carmy are shot in darkness and low light, compared to warm /well lit scenes when Syd and Carmy are emotionally intimate; it could explain why the songs that play during Carmy and Claire's scenes are frequently morbid or are outright about death, or lyric less ambient scores that invoke the feel of psychological horror,

and why mostly love songs are played for Carmy and Syd's.

I've made some posts /edits pointing out the parallels between Claire / Carmy / Syd and these biblical / mythological figures, and a post on why I think John Cena as Sammy Fak is a case of good casting (from a comedy perspective) if the Faks are really meant to serve the function that I think they are meant to below;

but some additional similarities between Claire and Lilith are that they were 'created' in the same way, 'formed from the same dust', as their 'Adam' (whose name can also mean red clay/earth and Claire's last name means mud or muddy fortress) - since Carmy and Claire both come from the same neighborhood/highschool and, depending on how much we see of Claire in the future, they may have both come from dysfunctional homes / be the adult children of alcoholic parents.

The posts I linked below are:

1. A webweaving on Sydcarmy + Adam x Eve parallels;

2. A fan edit that I did that was inspired by the webweaving; side note: if Carmy's words to Sydney at the end of their first convo was foreshadowing for them starting a literal nuclear family of their own, and how many kids they're gonna have, I'll scream;

"We're gonna make family, it's meat, (👀) plus three, and we'll eat around two."

3. A reblog add-on to @espumado et. al's @thoughtfulchaos773 @vacationship @kdbleu 's etc. thread on the theme of haunting / religious / mythological imagery and parallels in the show in season 3.

4. Another thread on religious symbolism in Season 3 and Claire and Syd / Carmy's relationship kicked off by @vacationship.

5. Another reblog add on I made in response to @glitterslag about the episode Review in Season one possibly representing/parodying the biblical "Fall of man".

6. A fan edit that I made for clairecarmy with the intent of being humourous at first, but unexpectedly turned out pretty nightmarish / psychological horror-esque without much work because the material/ dark imagery is there; including an eye opening parallel between Claire and Donna.

7. A post on the Bear being a super deconstructed Shakespearean pastoral comedy e.g. like As You Like It.

8. The religious symbolism of Carmy's red string of fate dish for Syd possibly being a visual allusion to the sacred heart of jesus, which is an emblem of God's long suffering and passionate love, an add-on to @twokisses post

Tagging @ambeauty @angelica4equity @imliterallyjustablackgirl @devisrina @ripley-stark @bootlegramdomneess @gingerylangylang1979 @outmakingmoonshine @pureseasalt @augustmonsooning @brokenwinebox @whenmemorydies @mod-doodles @bioloyg @caiusmarciuscoriolanus @post-woke @myloveismineallmine @turbulenthandholding @anxietycroissant

@moodyeucalyptus @ago0112 @unbeweavvveable @blackjack-15 in case anyone wants to chime in.😭

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: I'm Starting To Think That This Drow Guy Is Kind Of An Asshole Edition.

Probably a Ranger in the hunter subclass. I actually intended to multi-class him as fighter/ranger at some point and make that his official class, but I haven't had time/quite figured out the best build that would still suit him - Ranger makes a LOT of sense with his backstory, arguably more than fighter, but he's still supposed to be a magic-less brick-house with 19 strength who hasn't handled a bow and arrow in 10 years, so I'm not sure where that leaves us LOL

A lot of people have suggested that Berserk Barbarian would fit him well, but I think that implies a lot of other characteristics that do NOT suit him at all so 🤷

HE DIDN'T EVEN GO TO THE CRECHE, and honestly it made the game feel much more immersive to pick one path and stick to it like Halsin suggested, even if I did have to endure the shadow cursed lands without the shiny mace 😂

Probably for the best, it'd be a real shame if the story ended there just because he didn't like Vlaakith's attitude.

But yeah Lae'zel (who, for the record, I adore) never stood a chance in his playthrough. Sorry baby girl.

I'm either uninformed or we have different definitions of what constitutes a crush, but sure I'll play in this space LOL

He's both jealous but also kind of aloof when it comes to things like that. It's yet another symptom of his arrogance, where it seems unfathomable that anyone who has him would be genuinely tempted by someone else. He doesn't mind a normal amount of glance-stealing and flattery, even playful flirting to a degree, but if there's persistence or if his partner seems to seek another person out for things he thinks he should be providing, he feels threatened.

Also, he has a difficult time discerning that "deep emotional connection" does not equal "romantic interest". So, at least immediately after the events of the game, he's more likely to be made insecure by his partners forming deep bonds with others than any throwaway expression of physical desire or fleeting infatuation.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Let me preface this with the (hopefully unnecessary) disclaimer that this murderous dark-elf's opinions are not my own, and that I very much purposefully made a bit of an asshole character because I find that entertaining.

And now that you're hopefully primed for what's coming - DU drow is pretty damn judgemental of people's looks save for the rare times when they give him a good impression right off the bat. He notes people's appearances and makes preemptive assumptions about them without even realizing it. He definitely does not equal beauty to value or prowess (in fact he will very much still mock of you if you seem too concerned with your appearance) but he does prescribe things based on looks.

I don't think he'd take issue with what you're describing, It sounds like a pretty average body, but he would assume that person is weaker and less fit to "keep up with him", basically. Which kind of diminishes interest.

As far as to what he finds immediately attractive, he definitely prefers people who seem physically fit (not more than himself though - gods forbid). But, the caveat to this whole tangent is that once you get past initial impressions, he could definitely come to be sexually attracted to pretty much any type of body attached to the person he's in love with.

Thank you! There was no main event, just the building up of resentment over time and the opportunity she saw opening up when the Chosen's plan came into motion. She definitely didn't always hate him though, they had a fairly close relationship until his obsessive behavior and arrogance became an issue.

Thank you!!!

They call him the/that drow, dark elf, or "big drow" if there's more than one present. In private they might facetiously call him Bhaalspawn if they get tired of referring to him by race.

I'll be honest, I forgot whether or not I found it in his playthrough LOL but if he did stumble across that would be VERY funny. He'd be like "look at these idiots and their fake murder god. What kind of dimwit would worship carnage as a religion. Hey Shadowheart get a load of this-"

HAPPY YOU ENJOY HIM! I think his unique situation overall with having been such a overwhelmingly horrid person and forgetting all about it is my favorite bit. That's kind of vague, I know, but I often think of dreams I've had where I committed a crime or did something horrible, and that immediate feeling of relief and disconnect that follows immediately after waking up. That's kind of what I imagine it's like for him - he knows of the things he did, but he doesn't really. In theory it's all true but that's a truth far too fantastical for anyone to conceptualize even if it's put right in front of your face.

That, tackling the guilt (or lack thereof) of something you genuinely don't feel like you've done and the intricacies of it, that's a fascinating state of mind to explore. I love how many directions you can take that.

For me, having a character who is not good, but is not necessarily pure unadulterated evil, makes for a lot of complex thought experiments and contradictory values. DU drow has a lot of those - things he believes and abides by absolutely except for this specific instance, being contradictory is a pillar of his character and it can be a little challenging to keep up with it - but I'd be lying if I said I don't deeply enjoy that aspect as well all the same.

THANK YOUUUU It took me so long to figure out how to draw Astarion in a way I liked, I'm so relieved that others enjoy it too 😂

Shockingly he did succeed it and was immediately put-off by it, lmao. They wouldn't really develop much of a relationship for a while after that, so at that point DU drow just figured he was trying to get something from him and wrote him off, much as he did with everyone else with the exception of Shadowheart.

He didn't meet her at the Tiefling grove! I didn't even know you could meet her before-hand for the longest time. But he did super, duper kill her at camp of course.

He managed to hide the body and everyone else was none the wiser, huge blood bhaal-sigil on the ground aside lmao. He was a little shocked but didn't feel all that bad about it, kind of resigning to that primal feeling of satisfaction at a job-well-done that overwhelmed him instead. He decided she was too weak to survive out there and he had just spared her the trouble.

[tinybeetiny]

Subtle Foreshadowing: OT8

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ATEEZ. I’ve been having to stay off TikTok because the edits are making me emotional 🥲

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

Cw: explicit language, sore losers, competitiveness

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

“YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH AND I HOPE YOU FALL DOWN THE STAIRS” “MINGI NO”

“Okay (y/n) what is this game you wanted us to play” Seonghwa asked bringing over the bowl of popcorn “it’s a nice game that helps with team bonding and it’ll bring us all closer” you respond with a bright smile

“YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. ARE YOU STUPID?” “Yeosang… calm down”

“Overcooked 2? What’s that?” Mingi asked when the loading screen popped up “oh it’s just a nice cooking game where you have to work together to get the dishes out. It’s up to four players so I guess there could be two teams. I’ve already played it so I just want to watch” you beamed, excited to see the boys play “Are you sure? We don’t want you to feel left out.” Yunho pouted next to you “I’m sure!”

“YOU MIDGET BITCH. I SWEAR I’LL END YOU RIGHT NOW” “Oh my gosh Yunho please sit down”

The boys split into two teams. Team 1 consisted of Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi. Team 2 consisted of Seonghwa, Yeosang, Wooyoung and Jongho. “Okay so I’ll have you guys do the tutorial first. Hongjoong your team will go first. It’s super easy” you tell them as you pass the controllers out. A small part of you felt a little bad for doing this to them but you think back to their little grocery incident and decide that this is the best way to get back at them

“Okay. Seonghwa do you guys need to do the tutorial too?” You ask turning to the boys on the other couch “We probably should” he responded reaching for the controllers “whaaat no we don’t! We got this” Wooyoung interrupted “let’s do round 1 first!” “Wooyoung no” but Seonghwa’s words feel on deaf ears as Wooyoung already started the round.

“YOU DUMB FUCK. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” “GOD DAMMIT WOOYOUNG” “YOU’RE DONE” “I’M SORRY”

The boys were doing good! Until the dirty plates come into play. The tension was palpable and it felt a little suffocating. “Hongjoong… we need more plates” Yunho said a little on edge “I know I know but I’m trying to make sure the rice doesn’t overcook” “OKAY but you’re supposed to be doing the dishes…. San, what are you doing you’re supposed to do the pots. MINGI WHAT THE FUCK” You forgot how competitive Yunho was… how competitive they all were. “MY CONTROLLER ISN’T WORKING” Mingi yelled, confused why his character wasn’t moving how he wanted it to “MINGI YOU STUPID BITCH ITS UPSIDE DOWN” Yunho screamed back “YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH AND I HOPE YOU FALL DOWN THE STAIRS” “MINGI NO”. Well… it’s safe to say that Seonghwa’s team scored a little better that round.

The next round was a bit more difficult and they were all feeling the heat. Everything was going quite smoothly. It seemed like they found a good rhythm with Jongho chopping, Seonghwa cooking, Yeosang serving and Wooyoung doing plates but as more and more orders came in their perfect system started to crumble. Seonghwa had slightly burned one of the dishes and Wooyoung was getting behind on plates “Guys please you’re killing me here.” Yeosang was getting nervous, he wanted to keep the lead his team had but with the way they were performing this round it was very close. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck Seonghwa get it now” Jongho noticed a pan was burning… bad. At that point the pressure got to Yeosang and he bursted “YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. ARE YOU STUPID?” “Yeosang… calm down”

Hongjoong’s team didn’t do any better this round either. “Mingi I swear if you don’t move out of the way I’m gonna lose it” Hongjoong voice was quiet, eerily quite and everyone just stared in anticipation “No I’m supposed to be doing the plates this time” Mingi argued back “Guys I need to plate this now” San interjected as he watched the time tick down. Trying to hurry, Hongjoong grabbed the wrong vegetable and put it on the wrong plate “YOU MIDGET BITCH. I SWEAR I’LL END YOU RIGHT NOW” Yunho yelled as he shot up out of his seat “Oh my gosh Yunho please sit down”

“Um. Maybe we should just play one more round and that’s it.” You nervously said watching the boys glare at each other “you’re both tied right now so I think this last will be enough” neither team said anything while Yeosang held his hand out for the controllers. This round was another split kitchen round and you were nervous that the dorm would explode. The anticipation built as Yeosang hit play and the round started. “Oh fuck not another one of these” Jongho groaned. The living room was dead quiet as the round continued, sweat dripping down Seonghwa’s forehead as he tried to focus on his task. Yeosang was staring so intensely that you were afraid he was going to burn holes in the tv. Wooyoung… you had no idea what Wooyoung was doing, you were just happy he wasn’t running in circles. Jongho was keeping up with the plates fabulously. Until… “YOU DUMB FUCK. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” “GOD DAMMIT WOOYOUNG” “YOU’RE DONE” “I’M SORRY”. Wooyoung thought he put the wrong ingredient on the plate, then proceeded to trash it.

You watched as the boy yelled at each other, the other team joining shortly after. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

[admiral-mason]

Ultra-Impact Part 3

Idea based on @valeriele3's Live Stream post.

Forgot to mention this in the last posts (I've edited in though), but reader is Gender Neutral (GN)

Warning: Violence and gore. Also Hakita saying things that he likely has never said.

0-2 0-3 << YOU ARE HERE 0-4

PRELUDE /// THIRD WEIGHT OF TWO WORLDS

TWO WORLDS ARE BINDED THROUGH A SINGULAR SCREEN.

A complete and utter destruction of the senses.

This is the best way to describe the current event: V1 blasting the absolute hell out of the 3AM Among Us Potion Knights of Favonius with his arsenal. Peeking from behind a rock at a distance, you watched V1 blast a swordsman Knight in the face with its shotgun before parrying an arrow from another and shooting him with the revolver.

It then proceeded to ground slam into a small group of them before knuckleblasting them, leaving nothing behind but guts and blood puddles on the floor (and you wincing silently). Then, Amber manages to land an arrow on V1; unfortunately, it harmlessly bounces right off and V1 turns its camera-like head right at her and swaps to its Sawn-On shotgun. As you slowly looked away, flesh squelching and bone breaking accompanied the outrider's screeching screams of agony.

In the head of the battle, you attempted to gather your thoughts and deal with the pain in the right arm thanks to Amber's arrow. Is this how it felt to witness Ultrakill in real life? You never expected weapons such as the Knuckleblaster and shotgun to create ear-piercing noise that no Earth weapon matched.

You also noticed how V1 never used any explosive damage; not even projectile boosts, despite its ease of accomplishment. In fact, its current actions force the Knights to focus on it and not you. Perhaps Teyvat sent it here to guard you in this Impostor SAGAU world. Your arrow pain dwindled quicker than normal too; probably another random little power gimmick.

However, your time to dwell on such thoughts ran out when noises best described in the onomatopoeia "BRRRRRRRTTT" followed by the sounds of penetrated flesh resounded in the air. Peeking over your rock, you witnessed V1 blast the last of the Knights including Kaeya with its nailgun.

Looking at the carnage V1 left in its wake, you noticed something bizarre.

Instead of laying limp, the blood and flesh of the dead knights began fading away into glowing red dust.

Much of [streaming platform] buffered and suffered an outage for a good couple of hours, with the cause of the sudden shutdown leaving even the site's administrators and management team fumbling in confusion.

Coincidentally, many users reported that their instances of the game Ultrakill suddenly crashed and refused to boot up afterward despite their computer and Steam page acting normally. Hakita put out an official statement regarding the matter:

"Okay, I will be real. I can't do anything to the game on my end either. I can't edit it, open any files, get assets, hell even all of my videos on my YouTube channel are missing without reason. So for now, all we have access to is this Discord server."

(Some people thought that he did this after a petition to reconstruct V2 exceeded twice its supporters)

A few people watching your stream coincidentally noted that it suddenly ended without explanation before [streaming platform] died.

The combination of these events spurred mass panic on the internet; Videos theorizing that some foreign nation or 'master hacker' committed a cyber attack to steal valuable information ran rampant on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, you name it. Meanwhile, users on [streaming platform] took to platforms such as Reddit and Discord to share their perspectives on what happened, with a select few even touting that God had shut the sites down as a warning to humanity's current sins.

Thankfully, the anomalous instances reverted and disappeared in a few hours, except for your account on [streaming platform]. Instead of displaying your past streams, it simply displayed a single live stream:

THE FIRE IS LIT.

It bore a thumbnail shot of what appeared to be somewhere in Genshin, looking at a small camp with a tent, a campfire, and a pot boiling over said campfire. The chat slowly started with one or two messages before rapidly exploding with "what is this" or "what happened" responses or something along those lines. Then, two familiar figures showed up on-screen:

It was you and V1, and the latter carried you in a bridal style.

Of all the things you expected to do in life, having V1 bridal-style carrying you wasn't on the list. After it killed all the Knights of Favonius, it took your right arm and inspected the area injured by the arrow before swiftly pulling it out much to your discomfort.

After you gritted your teeth and grimaced in response to the sudden pain, V1 made a small dent in one of its arms allowing its blood to flow onto your wound. Miraculously, the blood let the injured area grow back and your pain rapidly dissipated leaving you both amazed and bewildered.

During this time, you noted how V1 managed to fit its three left arms all placed on its side; a sort of circular device connecting the arms to the torso allowed them to cycle between one another.

V1 then let you go and handed you a revolver; specifically, the regular Sharpshooter revolver. "For me?" You asked the supreme machine, pointing to yourself as you did so. It simply nodded in response and gestured for you to take it. You did and put the electric gun in your right pants pocket, hoping no misfires occur.

Once that happened, V1 suddenly scooped you into its arms before dash-jumping away with you deeper into the forest. Oddly enough, the smell of a soup or stew grew ever stronger the more distance you two covered in the woods. After a couple of minutes, V1 put you down at your destination.

The robot brought you to a campsite with an open campfire and a pot over said fire. It's safe to assume that the pot contained the soup or stew that currently emanates the smell. A crude tent seemingly stolen from an adventurer stood behind the fire.

The last noteworthy object in the area caught your attention: a black-and-white splotched Terminal. Located right next to the tent, the terminal displayed your Twitch chat on the left side and its main screen on the right. Once you stood in front of it, it printed out:

"GREETINGS, GODFATHER. PLEASE TAKE SOME TIME TO INTERACT WITH YOUR FOLLOWERS IN THE OTHER WORLD."

A camera then revealed itself above the screen and you knew what you had to do. Stepping in front of the camera, you waved. "Hello? Chat can you see me??"

And then, the floodgates busted wide open.

Adm!ra1-M4son: Oh my god GUYS OUR BOY'S ALIVE

johnifer: Holy shizzle drizzle crick crack he's fucking alive

valeriele3 donated $5.00: "Oh my god! Are you okay??"

"Yeah- I'm fine. Thanks for the donation by the way even if I have no idea how to use it right now..."

V1 then proceeded to make itself known as well. Moving you a bit to the side, it waved both of its hands seemingly eager to introduce you to your fans. The chat went wild again.

hiraya: omg is that V1??

LiNk29: Nah man bro got isekaid with the gopro...

BeeseChurger: SOMEONE SEND THIS TO HAKITA RIGHT THE FUCK NOW

Yuormethor: On it chief.

Simply put, this strange terminal allowed you to see your Twitch followers again, which was nice. V1 then left its spot in front of the terminal and checked on the pot. Sure enough, when you moved on over to it, there was a soup with radishes and tomatoes as its main ingredients. V1 likely got them from theft, but you didn't care- food is food after all.

The robot used a ladle in the pot to scoop some stew into a wooden bowl, which it then handed to you along with a spoon. Taking in its aroma, smells of radishes, tomatoes, and some mint filled your nose and you slowly took a small sip.

(A/N: Guess the soup.)

The soup's taste bore both a tart and sweet flavor, with a little bit of refreshment with some added mint. As you savor your first meal in Teyvat, your chat watches you do so.

kpfjillion: give me that fucking soup

XxcSHARPxX: Give this man peace for the Impostor SAGAU shit he's gonna come across lmfao

hiraya: he'll be fine! I'm sure of it.

After the fifth sip, you heard mechanical footsteps behind you before they stopped. You turned around and saw a familiar adversary V1 fought, and the two of you stared into each other's gaze.

"Well, nice to meet you in person, godfather."

V2.

Taglist: @valeriele3, @bunniotomia, @feetusdeletussthenyeetus

[fanfics-with-coffee]

To be kind, To be a fool

This has only been proofread and edited by a sleep deprived me sooooo, I also wrote it in a daze from 1AM to 6AM. I'm back in my Baldurs Gate 3 hole and I've been so very inspired from so many other fanfic writers I got back on this blog

You did it, you saved the prisoners from Moonrise Towers and everybody is back, safe and sound at least for tonight. You and Astarion are holding back from the festivities, instead talking about your act of heroism and why you do it. You say you choose to be kind for who else will, he says you're choosing to be a fool for what else is kindness if not foolish.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: Astarion x reader Words: 4400

Its doubtful if Last Light Inn had been quite so lively as when you returned in the raggedy old boat with the prisoners from Moonrise Towers. Once they had been cleared, everyone had ran to their loved ones or simply rejoiced in the warmth of the fire, ever burning away the darkness that threatened to creep inside any crevice it could get it's cold claws into. And of course they soothed their dry throats with the little wine and ale that was left behind when the shadow curse had blanketed the land. The two boys manning the bar were running around relentlessly, trying their best to fill every empty goblet and mug they could spot, leaving no one without a drink. It’d probably only be hours before Jaheira had to call it a night so they wouldn’t run out of the little liquid joy they had left. But until then, the celebrations were loud and proud.

For a moment, things were bright, despite the dark sky. 

“What a ruckus, you could almost think that Lathander himself had been in attendance.” Astarion mused, one hand gracefully swirling a glass of wine while the other rested on his upper arm. He was leaning against the wall beside you in a corner of the inn that hadn’t been filled with people. Not that it was difficult, even with the prisoners free it was barely enough to fill the tables and chairs. You smiled, watching the tieflings try to catch up after the devastating nights apart. 

“If Lathander was here, I think there’d be a lot more dancing on tables and a lot more wine.”

“True… And a lot more fucking.” Astarion replied with that signature cheeky smile he always pulls when he’s said something salacious or teasing. You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, nodding along to his line of thought. He wasn’t wrong. 

“You’re probably right. Well at least we could let these people see another dawn, I think in a sense maybe Lathander really is here.” You pull your eyes from the happy faces and let them reflect in your mug of ale before downing another mouthful of it. The smooth, delicate taste of honey coats your tastebuds and leaves a pleasant warmth in your stomach.

“I didn’t take you for the god honoring type, you know? Besides, these people didn’t need Lathander, they had their own little ray of sunshine coming to their rescue anyways. Our own little goody-two-shoe altruist in shining armor.” He teases you, reminding you that there weren’t any gods in the belly of Moonrise Towers. Yet beneath the lighthearted tone you detected something else, a familiar bitterness and disapproval that he had given you before. That he gave you whenever you did something ‘too nice’, ‘too self sacrificing’ or ‘too cheaply’. You had long ago started ignoring it, instead taking it as a sign you probably did the right thing.

“Mmmh, mayhaps. I mean we were there anyways, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be left there to the Absolutists if I was stuck either.” You give him an answer you know he’ll hate and you made sure to slather some extra kindness in there as well just to really make a point. “And I find enough reward in watching these people.”

Astarion rolls his eyes hard enough you worry they’re gonna get stuck to the back of his head. You watch him, unable to hold in a laugh as he pretends to vomit from how ‘disgustingly sweet’ you are. You don’t say anything for a moment as he lets his eyes roam the room, the soft light of the torches reflecting upon his white locks of hair. You can see the disgust in his eyes as he watches them, and you could only guess as to why he felt so strongly about your acts of kindness. 

“I can’t wait to see the day you realize that none of these people would do the same for you… When someone betrays your kindness and I can stand there and laugh, telling you ‘I told you so’.”

He says it nonchalantly, as if it’s a fact. He let’s his own hatred for the world seep through every syllable yet he hides it behind a face that says he doesn’t care. You expected comments like this to come from him, you expected resistance to helping the helpless. Yet something about his words right now makes your chest tighten in anger, the notion that you were simply too stupid to realize that not everyone was kind. That he was maybe smarter and more experienced than you for seeing the cruelness in the world. You turn sharply to face him, slamming your mug down a little too harshly on a table close by. Astarions eyes meet yours, he never expected you to react like this, you had never before raised your voice at him. The air has grown tense. 

“Astarion, I am kind. I am not a fool, and you should do well to remember that there is a difference.” Your words are sharp yet you’re thankful no one else has seemed to notice you two. “I know that people will hurt me, and betray me. That people will not always do the same as I would’ve done. But if I don’t help, then who will? I have the power to make a change and I’ve chosen to use that power. You don’t have to agree, but you’re not allowed to tell me that I am wrong for deciding to be kind.”

He can see the hurt in your eyes as you correct him. That it’s not a question about your own navïte making you help others, but the fact you put conscious effort into being kind, despite the risk it has. Cold, uncomfortable embarrassment washes over him like ice water. A feeling he despises and so he sets it alight with anger instead, feeling himself burn with it as he finds himself again. His fingers clench around the half empty glass of wine he continues to hold onto. Thoughts swirl around in his head, trying to find the ones that will hurt the most, a painful payback for embarrassing him.

“And pray tell what is the difference? You waste not just your own time helping these idiots, but ours too. We were here to find a cure, yet all we’ve done is listen to sob stories and rescue people who will most likely die on the road to Baldurs Gate anyways. What kind of fool would waste so much energy and time on things that will lead to the exact same result anyways, I believe that’s actually what people call insanity.” He makes himself appear taller as he pushes himself off the wall and stands in front of you, scowling as he meets your gaze. 

How dare you tell him that he’s wrong? After 200 years of cruel torment and nights spent around people who could not give less of a shit about him, you’re telling him there’s people out there that care? And if so then it’s even worse, because that would mean no one simply knew he was in pain. Was Astarions own torment not enough for people to even notice?

No, he knows what he went through. No one cares about others' torment unless there’s something in it for them, even if just so they could feel a little better about themselves and comes at no expense of theirs. It’s always just about ourselves, Astarion just skips the other steps and puts himself first. Why could you just not do the same? Why did you have to go out of your way for anyone else?

“Fine, call me a fool. Insane, även. Say what you want about me, Astarion, but I will always choose to be kind. I’m sorry no one made that choice for you before, I am. B-”

“Do not tell me about kindness, y/n, there is no altruistic kindness like the one you speak of it’s a performance people put on for others.” His words are cold and sharp, they bite into your heart in much the same way his teeth pierce your skin. Painful. “We should all put ourselves first, it’s what everyone wants to do anyways! Skip the damn pleasantries and just be honest about it at the very least. I’m tired of having to look beyond the kindness just to see their true intentions.”

He’s rambling without thinking, remembering all the kind words and touches he’s received just because someone wanted to get in his pants. All the faux acts of kindness he watched Cazador perform so he could get what he wanted, or even just to make sure whatever cruel act he had in mind would hurt even more. All the nights in the beginning where he debated how he could save a victim, just to realize he’d get nothing but pain in return. The kind acts he himself performed in hopes of receiving something kind in return. 

The way he seduced you just to make sure he had safe passage to Baldurs Gate, to a cure. 

You were left speechless, caught off-guard by the outburst of emotions. You knew he was selfish but this was rooted deeper and maybe you should’ve realized when he had finally told you about Cazador and his ‘siblings’. You clenched your hands, trying to find something to refute his points. To prove him wrong. Yet you have nothing of worth to sooth his pain. He sees your hesitations and assumes he’s finally gotten through to you, he’s won. His red eyes leave yours to once again look at the others smiling faces, not wanting you to see the disappointment grow in him as he realizes he was right.

“So you’ve never been kind just to be kind?”

“No. Never.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, letting the motion tilt his head back as he finally raises his glass of wine, downing the rest of it. The sudden action makes the glass flow over the corners of his mouth and the deep red liquid coats his chin and drips down on his chest, staining the white fabric of his shirt. It bleeds into the criss-cross stitching and travels further down before he has time to react. 

You gasp and grab an old handkerchief stuffed in your pocket, quickly moving to try and save his favorite shirt. It's instinctual, thoughtless. Even when you’re mad at him and even though he’s furious at you, you try to help him. As soon as the cloth touches him, shame spreads like a disease through him, regret taking root in his chest somewhere where his beating heart should’ve been. 

He hates it.

“Don’t touch me.” He bites back, snatching the handkerchief from your hand to do the job himself. You instantly step back, putting your hands up to make sure you give him space.

“Tsk, I’m going to bed. Good night, y/n.” He’s aggressively dabbing at the stain as he starts walking away, trying to soak up as much as possible but it’s clear it's a useless endeavor, it will forever remain stained.

“Astarion!” You call out to him before he gets too far and he stops momentarily, turning to finally look at you. 

He’s met with pity reflecting off of your eyes in the lowly lit room. 

He hates it.

You say something else but suddenly the sounds of the celebrations drown out whatever it was. He doesn’t even try to listen and simply turns around to find the room that he had been given as a thank you from Jaheira. He didn’t need your pity, he didn’t tell you about his past because he wanted your pity, anyone would feel pity for him if he told them what had happened to him. He wanted you to… care. Foolishly, he wanted you to care about him, about what had happened to him. He wanted you to listen to his issues and maybe, just maybe, you’d want to help him like you helped everyone else around you. And maybe you’d do something without asking for anything in return. 

Yet tonight, he reminded himself that no such thing as true kindness existed. And to expect you to care about him despite who he was at his core was foolish itself. Your kindness came at a cost he hadn’t even thought about; You expected him to change in return for your kindness. He was mean, he was selfish and he wouldn’t let you change him for anything.

He turns to close the door to the room he was staying in, the feeling of his shirt clinging to his chest uncomfortable and wet. Astarions eyes find you in the same corner he left you, yet your eyes didn’t meet. Gale and Karlach had come up to you, pulling your attention to them. You had quickly started smiling and laughing again, one hand on Karlachs shoulder in a calming manner. 

Why had he even let himself hope that you would follow after him?

He closed the door.

The hours dragged on, the darkness in the Shadowlands making day and night nearly indistinguishable. The only thing that made time feel real was the ever waning torches, slowly burning out. And while you felt like it must’ve been a fortnight of drinking, laughing and talking, it can’t actually have been more than three hours based on how many torches had already burned out and been replaced. You had been convinced to join Karlach by the grill, Wyll telling stories of his time as the Blade of Frontiers in the soft glow. You listened and laughed, at points discussing the actual validity of these stories. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t let the thought of Astarion go. He hadn’t left the room he was staying in, all alone in there, perhaps still trying to clean the shirt he always seemed to wear. 

As people finally sated themselves and found their companions, the celebrations died down to  a quiet mumble amongst those unable to sleep. The children had long ago been told to head to bed, only occasionally peeking their heads out from the dorm or coming out to ask for a late night snack. Jaheira herself had taken over the bartending but was now stuck pleasantly talking with some fists that had sat down after their patrol shift. Even most of your companions had headed to bed, either in the dorm or at camp depending on their preference, Astarion had specifically called dibs on the single private room. 

“Well, I think it’s best I call it a night as well!” Karlach stood up and stretched her muscular arms over her head. “You should do the same, soldier, can’t have our tactician getting sloppy!” She smiled at you, expectantly putting her hands on her hips as she waited for you to stand up and walk with her.

“Oh, I think I’m going to stay up just a little more. I’m sorta enjoying the quiet murmur in here, and I haven’t really had the time to speak with Jaheira since we came back.” You lied, trying to give her a convincing smile. But you couldn’t hold her eyes with yours, instead turning your head to watch the door to Astarions room, trying to make it look casual. 

“Riiight… You know, I don’t know what’s going on between you and fangs but I wouldn’t take anything he says to heart. He’s sorta dumber than he wants us to think, so whatever he told you… Eh well, I dunno, I’m not the smartest myself.” She laughs at herself, the alcohol having had an effect on her after quite a few bottles. “But I am the strongest! So if he needs  a good assbeating then I’m here for ya. I know he can say some pretty rude stuff at times even if he doesn’t mean it. What is it people say? Hurt people, hurt people?”

“You’re right Karlach...” You smile at her, she may say that she’s not smart but she knows people better than most. “But it’s fine between me and Astarion, we just had a disagreement but it’s nothing to worry about, I don’t think. Though I know an assbeating wouldn’t help, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Well if you say so, soldier! I’ll see you in the morning then I guess.” She gives you a hard pat on your back before leaving, yawning loudly as she walks towards the dorm room, softly ‘shoo’-ing another tiefling child back into the room.

You spend some time just watching the embers of the firepit burn, feeling the heat hitting your face in waves and drying out your lips. You drink the last of the wine in your cup and lick your lips, standing from the stool to leave the empty cup at the bar. Your eyes find the wooden door again and you spend a long moment debating if it’s a good idea. Facing Astarion right now would be awkward and draining, it would even risk you two blowing up at each other again. Yet you know he was hurt, that much was obvious.

The knock is soft and you’re uncertain if he could even hear it over the sound of the fireplace in the room. You consider that maybe he had gone to bed in the end, it had been hours since you saw him after all. 

“Astarion? Can I come in?” You call out softly, afraid to wake him if he was in trance but wanting to give it at least one more shot before you give up. It takes a moment but suddenly the door opens ever so slightly, just enough to let you know it was open but not enough to see him in the doorway. You take that as a ‘yes’ and carefully push it open further. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps come to the door nor leave, yet when you slip through the crack of the door he’s sitting on the bed. The room is dark, long shadows being cast from the dying fire. The moon lights up his pale skin and even paler hair, reflecting off of him as a glow. His legs are crossed and he’s leaned back on his hands, his chest exposed. He looks as if he’s made of marble, his chest doesn’t even move with breaths as you watch him, a quirk of his vampirism you’ve realized. You make sure to close the door behind you, never turning away. 

Neither of you say anything. There’s a book open  next to him on the bed, it’s the sequel of some book he had picked up early on in your adventure. You had gotten the sequel for him after he expressed his enjoyment for the first one, it had cost you a gold but it was worth it. You stare at it, unwilling to meet his gaze directly. Yet his is firmly placed on you, indifferent and icy.

“Well? Were you just here to get your handkerchief back or did you want something?” He spoke first, raising an eyebrow.

“...Is it as good as the first book?” You ask, finally looking him in the eyes. He furrows his brows before he looks at the book next to him, realizing what you meant.

“It’s decent. I liked the twist in the first book so it has a lot to live up to, but it’s an enjoyable read. But I’m sure you’re not here for some midnight book club so out with it. What do you want?” He’s clearly pushing you away, but the fact that he opened the door when he heard it was you must mean he’s willing to listen.

“I wanted to come see how you were doing. Did you manage to get the stain out of your shirt?”

“I’m fine, thank you. And no, I did not, I will have to try to find someone who knows prestidigitation to get it out, I believe. Now if you excuse me, I’d quite like to get back to my bo-” He’s about to pick his book back up, clearly done with the conversation if you weren’t going to get to any point.

“I also wanted to apologize.” 

He raises an eyebrow and looks at you, giving you his full attention and newfound interest in the conversation.

“I snapped at you, and while I don’t think I was in the wrong for doing that-” He rolls his eyes, making it clear he disagrees with you but he lets you keep talking. “I shouldn’t have made it sound like being kind was an effortless choice and that you always can and should choose. It’s not easy every single time. So I’m sorry.” You try to gauge his reaction, see if he gives you any sort of response. He doesn’t at first, his face difficult to make out in the drastic lighting. The distance between you may only be a couple meters but right now you feel like there's kingdoms between you.

“...You say that yet you make it seem so damn easy. You never question why someone needs help, if it’s their own fault for getting themselves in that situation. You never assume people have any other intentions than what they tell you up front. You’re kind as effortlessly as some breathe.” He spits out the words as if they’re venom, once again speaking as if he believes you’re a fool. “Even to me, you’re kind. You ask me about my wounds, if I like the books I read, if I’m comfortable, where I learned to sew… I thought you were just trying to get in my bed at first, something I’m used to. I’ve given my body to countless ‘kind souls’, but now I’ve realized you just want me to be another victim you saved. Another person you’ve fixed. So you can play hero and get all the love and praise that entails. ‘Hero of Faerûn saves poor vampire spawn! Look at this poor sucker!’” He uses his hands to show off the fake headlines.

“Pun intended.” There's a sarcastic smile on his face as he stands up, grabbing your bloodied and wine stained handkerchief from the bed table before approaching you.

“That’s not why I did those things, Astarion, please. I care about you, just liste-”

“Well jokes on you, your kindness has been wasted on me. I’ve used you for my own gain, you know?” He throws your handkerchief against your chest, forcing you to clutch it so as to not let it fall. “I played with you just as easily as any other poor fool I’d find in Baldurs Gate’s whorehouses. You were ridiculously easy, just a few kind words and charming smiles and you were wrapped around my finger! Not that I blame you, have you seen me? I’m hard to resist. But it’s time to drop the pleasantries, the kindness, you’ve just been a tool for me to find a way to survive and I’ve just been another notch in your belt. But I am not another helpless pawn for you to feel good about ‘fixing’. I am pessimistic, I am selfish, I am merciless and I am cruel, and you won’t ever be able to change that.” He finally finishes his monologue, still forgetting to mimic the act of breathing as he stands before you in eerie silence. There’s a sense of vulnerability within his eyes despite his posture. Like a cornered animal lashing out in a desperate attempt to be left alone, to not be hurt.

You’re standing close to him now, mere decimeters away from each other's bodies. Yours heated and warm and his forever cold to the touch. You move slowly when you finally decide what you want to say, what you need him to realize. His eyes notice your hand raising and he tenses up even further, preparing him for what? He’s not sure. Then your hand reaches his face, softly cupping his cheek with your palm. Your heat exchanges with his, your hand slowly warming his skin while yours cools to the touch. He’s in shock, unable to say or do anything, just watching your face to try and read what your intentions are.

“I’ve tried to tell you, even before you went in here. I will always choose to be kind to you, Astarion, just as you are.”

He finally sucks in air, his lips parting to make sure his lungs fill fully and it’s as if it's his first breath since he died in that alley. That’s what you had tried to tell him before he left. You smile, moving your hand to brush a strand of his hair out of his face, observing his features. The dark, angry and nearly sadistic expression he carried before when he was trying to hurt you has washed away, leaving only the face of a lost young man standing before you. Eyes wide and mouth agape as you fully brushed off all the cruel things he said to you. Could he do nothing to scare you away, force you to back off? Keep you locked out of his heart?

He closes his mouth finally, eyes cast down to the floor as shame once again flowers in his chest, the thorns digging into every nerve.

“Even when I make it a difficult choice?” He asks quietly, shyly.

“Yes, even when it’s a difficult choice. But I don’t find it difficult to care for you Astarion. If you let me… I wouldn’t even find it difficult to love you.” You laugh a little, the question was silly to you after all. 

“You really are a fool.” A smile forms on his lips, the smile lines you’ve always adored finally showing themselves and his eyes as softening. He could never understand you, you’d never make sense to him. No matter how many times he thinks he has you pegged, you always go over and beyond his expectations. And once he thinks you’ve reached your limit on kindness, he finds a little more, even for a monster like him. His hands, which had consistently remained at his sides until now, moved up to find your hips. Astarion pulled you in closer to him, soaking in your heat and digging his head into the crook of your neck. You can’t help but laugh again, loud and happy, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer to you.

“I will always be kind, even if it does make me a fool.”