#I think it’s the worst companion/companion pair and I refuse to think about it.

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants. 

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision. 

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered. 

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.  

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost. 

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly. 

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words. 

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses. 

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own. 

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

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[forcedhesitation]

I love that the bg3 guys are all written to have this intense adoration of karlach and lae’zel’s abilities to absolutely eviscerate their enemies. they’ve all got the same taste in women, which is “she could gut the big scary man chasing me, and then princess carry me to safety in her blood spattered arms.” and I respect and relate to that, as a bisexual man myself.

[maraschinomerry]

You and Me

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Summary: five times George didn't know he had a crush on you, and one time he did

Content: fluff, first kiss, canon-typical danger

A/N: I've been working on this for ages and am so relieved it's finally done! A lot less angsty than most of my stuff, just tooth-rottingly sweet for a change 💕

Word count: 3.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear

5.

George hovered in your doorway. You'd left it ajar, your secret signal to each other that you were up for company, but it was almost 2am and he'd never visited this late.

"Hey Georgie," your voice whispered from the dim lamplight within. "Couldn't sleep?"

He shook his head before realising he couldn't actually see you and there was a chance you couldn't see him either. "No, I, uh… no."

Suddenly your head popped up from behind your bed, blinking groggily, and you waved him over. He pulled the door shut behind him.

"How did you know I was there?"

"Because I know you, silly," you elbowed him playfully as he sank to the ground beside you, your backs resting against the bed. You tried to ignore how scratchy the sheets were against your neck.

You'd both joined Fittes about the same time, and as the two newbies and joint youngest you quickly became inseparable. Everyone else was alright, you were a team after all, but between the elitist mindset and regulation living quarters the place never really felt like home. It had quickly become apparent that 'home' for both of you was each other, and now nearly 6 months in you spent most of your free time in one of your rooms or tucked away in a corner of the British Archives. Much like tonight, shoulder to shoulder in the soft orange glow.

You sat in companionable silence for a while, occasionally being pulled from your thoughts when your fingers would brush his and it felt like a spark ran up the whole length of your arm.

Eventually, George spoke. "Do you ever think about leaving?"

You turned to him with a frown. "Leaving Fittes? Duh."

"Fittes, London, agents' work, all of it!" His voice held a hint of the animation it did when he was telling you about a particularly exciting artifact, but there was something sombre about it tonight too.

"I mean, yeah," you considered, "but it's not that simple. Wherever we go, the Problem will follow. And we had a plan, Georgie."

A month after you'd joined, the first time George had been in your room, the two of you had made a contract. Pass your Grade Four, leave Fittes, establish your own agency, become the best in London (in England, even) and have your weaselly team leader Brookes begging you to come back or better yet hire him. But you wouldn't, because you wouldn't need him. It would be you and your rapier, George and his research, against the world. You and him.

"You and me," George murmured. You smiled warmly at him, draping and arm around his shoulder and pulling him close.

Something shifted deep in his chest.

Oh.

4.

It had been the worst year of your life.

Your best and perhaps only friend in the whole world had been fired, sent packing in the middle of the night with no chance to leave you a contact number or tell you where he was going. When you found out the next morning, Brookes had had to give you the rest of the day off because you couldn't stop crying long enough to achieve anything. How could you focus on training when a piece of your soul had been torn from you?

It only got worse from there. You were sidelined for countless opportunities, used as bait like you were nothing, and to top it all off you were reassigned to the team of one Quill Kipps, who you thought made Brookes look like a saint.

One day, in late summer, you reached your limit.

You quit.

"Where will you go?" Kipps had asked. You wanted to think he was mocking you, telling you that nowhere would accept some Fittes reject, but truth be told he was genuinely concerned.

You didn't know the answer to his question, but you refused to stay for a day longer. Measly bag of belongings and rapier in tow, you made your way round London to every agency you could think of. No luck. This was such a bad idea. George would be horrified by your lack of planning.

Not for the first time, you wondered where your friend had ended up. Maybe he'd gone north. Maybe he'd opened his own agency. Maybe he'd given it all up like he said. Surely he wasn't still in London. He'd have looked for you, right? Right?

You flopped dejectedly onto a bench in Hyde Park. It was close to nightfall, and you'd need to find somewhere to stay. A newspaper lay abandoned beside you, half falling through the gap in the wood. You thumbed through it to the ads section, hoping to find a boarding house or even a late-night pub.

Your eyes lit up.

"A.J. Lockwood & Co. Prestigious agency hiring junior agent. 35 Portland Row."

With trembling hands you tore the advert from the paper and tossed the rest aside, sprinting for the nearest taxi rank.

The door to 35 Portland Row was opened by a tall boy with dark hair and equally dark circles under his eyes.

"Hello, I'm looking for Mr Lockwood."

He offered you a smile. "That would be me. How can I help?"

You hesitated. He barely looked older than you, let alone old enough to be the head of a prestigious agency. Then again, you had no other prospects and nowhere to go. You inhaled, preparing yourself.

"I'm here about the job." You held up the newspaper cutting with a slightly trembling hand.

"Splendid!" His smile widened. With a flourish, he gestured for you to step inside and guided you through the door on the right into an eclectic living room. "Have a seat, my colleague has just gone to brew a fresh pot of tea if you're interested?" You nodded. It had been such a busy day you hadn't even realised you'd skipped lunch and your mouth was dry as a bone.

While you waited, you dug out your hastily constructed CV and handed it to Lockwood, who skimmed over it with interest. As he turned the page, a door behind you creaked open and he lowered the paper as he looked up.

"Ah, perfect timing. Another candidate, thought I'd wait until you got back," Lockwood explained to the mystery figure as they moved around the edge of the sofa, before he turned to you. "Allow me to introduce my colleague-"

You barely registered what he was saying. Your focus was entirely taken up by the curly haired, bespectacled boy holding the tea tray.

"Georgie."

The tray clattered unceremoniously onto the coffee table, and before Lockwood could register what was happening you were on your feet, being tackled into a bear hug that almost knocked George's glasses straight off his nose. Your arms wrapped around his waist as you buried your head into his shoulder, tears already formed and soaking into his orange plaid shirt. Lockwood watched in fascination as his friend, who had well established in his year with the company that he did not enjoy physical contact, scrunched his eyes shut and brought his free hand (the one that wasn't gripping your shoulder like a lifeline) up to tangle in your hair.

"Hey, you," he murmured into the top of your head, blinking back tears of his own.

"You two know each other." It was more of a statement than a question from Lockwood, who you had quite forgotten was still in the room. Blushing, you extricated yourself from George's embrace, and felt your pulse skip when the hand that loosened from your shoulder trailed down to link with yours.

"We were together at Fittes," George stated. He must have told Lockwood about your time together, because the other boy just smirked knowingly.

"Very well then, I suppose we can dispense with the tests, if George will vouch for you?" He looked to George, who nodded so hard he thought his head might fall off. "Welcome to Lockwood and Co. Do please have a biscuit."

3.

"George?! George!" you yelled, voice hoarse with dust and nerves.

You'd been fleeing the basement of a decrepit haunted house when, with a sickening crack, the bottom half of the rickety wooden staircase collapsed right behind you. George had pushed you to leave first. He'd been right behind you. On those steps.

You crouched at the edge of the shaft, terrified of what you were about to see. Your mind filled with visions of your best friend, laying prone or ghost-touched on the cold concrete below. Relief and adrenaline flooded your veins when you saw him, from the chest up, clinging to the remaining steps and legs dangling above the debris. Lockwood and Lucy, the newest member of the agency, were nowhere to be seen, but the ripple of a reforming Type Two behind George was all too noticeable. Bracing yourself as best you could, you reached down and gripped him by the forearms. You weren't sure you could lift him alone, but as soon as his knees cleared the now-bottom step he was able to scrabble his way onto his feet. He scampered up the remaining steps and slammed the hatch closed with an echoing finality.

Your hands were on him immediately - brushing hair from his eyes, turning his head side to side, adjusting his glasses, running down his arms and across his torso, anywhere you could think of to check for injuries.

George was perfectly unharmed, he knew. Nothing more than a couple of splinters embedded in his T-shirt and a slight lack of breath from where his chest had slammed into the step. But he said nothing, more than content to let the accident disguise the real reason for the quickening of his breath as you worked your fingers across almost every inch of him. As they came to rest on his chest, he prayed you would think his racing heartbeat was just from the narrow escape, his flushed face just from exertion. This really wasn't professional, any other agency would have him on a disciplinary, but he was too far gone to care. Still, probably best if Lockwood didn't find out. He wouldn't be mad, of course, but he would be so smug.

2.

You woke up in a cold sweat, barely even aware of where you were. Weeks had passed since the Bone Glass was destroyed, but you were still plagued with nightmares. Sometimes it was Lucy, hanging unconscious from the Skull. Sometimes it was Lockwood, bleeding out on the catafalque. Mostly it was George, in any number of horrifying scenarios. Tonight, you'd watched rigidly, unable to move to help no matter how much you yelled at your dream self to save him, as Joplin pressed her knife closer and closer to his throat. His echoing cry as the blade dug into his skin had flung you awake with a jolt.

A gentle tap at your door pulled you back to reality.

"Yeah?" you called, voice catching.

The sight of a familiar mop of curls, attached to a very much alive George, began to soothe your speeding heartbeat.

"Hey, is everything okay? I thought I heard you scream." Oh my god. How were you supposed to explain that away? Lockwood and Lucy were away on a case, you two were the only ones in the house and it definitely hadn't been him imagining things.

"I'm fine," you said with a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

Falteringly, George stepped further into your room as though there was an invisible barrier he wasn't sure whether to cross. "Are you sure? You don't seem fine. You're shaking." You'd dropped your gaze lest he scrutinise it, so you hadn't seen how close he'd come until he was on his knees in front of you, reaching for your trembling hands. When you didn't pull away, he took them ever so gently, grounding you. You bit back a sob. "Hey, hey," his voice softened further, "I've got you." He moved to sit next to you on the bed, bringing the hand nearest to you up to rub circles into your back.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled between sobs, "I didn't mean to wake you. It was just a stupid nightmare."

The hand left your back, then it was on your cheek, turning you to him. His thumb brushed away your tears.

"Listen to me, (name). You have nothing to be sorry for, you understand? I know what it's like, I get nightmares too sometimes and they feel so real, so don't dismiss it as stupid. And I hate the thought of you suffering in silence. You're the most important person to me, I'd do anything for you, so please let me?" He had no idea where the words came from, but he meant every single one. You nodded, still teary-eyed, and he opened his arm out to allow you to curl into his side.

It was impossible to tell how long you sat like that, but eventually your eyelids began to droop. George noticed and gently manoeuvred you to lie down, drawing the sheets up over you. You gave little protest, too exhausted to mind, until he made to move away, when he felt his hand tugged back.

"Wait." You looked up at him, a blush painting your cheeks. "Will you stay? Please?"

He gave you one of those laughs he only seemed to do around you, more of a sharp exhale through his nose accompanied by fond eyes and a soft smile. "What did I just say? I'd do anything for you." You felt the mattress shift as he settled onto the other side, keeping a respectful distance but making sure you could still feel his presence. At last, you drifted off, knowing he was there.

1.

"You look rough," Lockwood commented when George slouched into the kitchen the next morning. George wanted to bite back that he didn't look much better, hair a mess and eye bags deeper than ever, but he'd only just got back from the case with Lucy so he had a reason to be tired.

"Didn't get much sleep," George muttered, shoving a couple of slices of bread into the toast and clicking the kettle on. Normally he'd start the day with tea or juice, but this time only coffee was going to be strong enough.

Lucy appeared from the basement, looking more dishevelled than Lockwood. A huge smear of dirt coated her cheek and her shirt was torn. She'd heard the conversation. "Are you okay?" She knew George had barely slept for the first few days after the Bone Glass, and his words made her worry he was slipping back into that bad place again.

He realised what she was implying. "Oh, I'm fine. It was (name) who had the nightmare, I just stayed up to make sure they slept okay after it."

Lockwood and Lucy exchanged a glance, fighting to suppress the grins that were beginning to form. George squinted at them.

"That's very chivalrous of you," Lucy said with twitching lips.

"Oh absolutely, you're such a good friend," Lockwood continued. Lucy snorted.

"Well yeah," George frowned, "why are you saying it so weirdly?"

They stared at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because you don't seem to realise how much of a crush you've got on them."

Heat rose in George's cheeks. That was ridiculous; you were his best friend.

"Look," Lucy said gently as she settled at the table, "would you come and check on me if you heard I was having a nightmare?"

"Of course. I've done it for Lockwood before too." He'd visited the other boy's room so many times during his first few months in Portland Row.

"But did you stay up all night with me? And I'm guessing you weren't on their desk chair." Lockwood raised an eyebrow.

George opened his mouth and closed it again. They were mad, they had to be. Sure, he wanted to keep you in his life forever now he'd found you again, but the same could be said of the other members of the agency. As for the need for physical contact, the butterflies it created in his stomach, the way a single smile from you could fix even the worst days, that was just… oh hell.

0.

George felt like he was in shock. All this time, all those funny little feelings he had around you, it was a crush. He could have been with you all this time if only he'd realised. Wait. That was assuming you liked him back, and surely you'd have said something, right? So there was no way you felt the same. But Lockwood and Lucy knew him so well, they would never have brought it up if they didn't think there was more to it. If they didn't know. God, this was complicated.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Your voice in the doorway made George jump. How long had you been standing there? How long had he been lost in thoughts of you, of finally telling you how he felt now he had the words?

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," you apologised sweetly as you moved to join him on his bed. "It just looked like you were thinking about something very serious, is it anything I can help with?" Yes, it absolutely was. You had no idea how much it was.

"I'm an idiot," he blurted.

You frowned, placing a hand on his knee and unwittingly sending a burst of electricity through his entire body. "You're not an idiot, Georgie. You're the smartest person I know and I love that about you, don't ever downplay it."

"No, (name)," he turned to you, gaze intense and bursting with emotion, "I am. I've been in love with you from the very beginning and it took Lockwood and Lucy intervening for me to realise." He could barely look at you now, terrified of what he might see - confusion, disgust, pity, disappointment. It wasn't how he'd planned on telling you, either. It was supposed to be so much more romantic, but he'd wasted this much time figuring it out that he couldn't bare to waste a second longer waiting for the right moment to come along. "I don't expect you to reciprocate, and it doesn't have to change things, I just wanted you to know."

Whatever reaction he was expecting, a laugh was not it. The sound was light and pure, like wind chimes in a summer breeze. "You are an idiot… for thinking there was any chance I wouldn't feel the same."

The spark from your hand on his knee reached his chest, igniting the fireworks he'd been storing safely in his heart. Colours, beautiful colours, burst before him: the rich centre of your irises, the highlights of the sun on your hair, the flush of your cheeks, the rose of your lips. Your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked quietly.

"I'd be an idiot if I said no," you laughed again as you wound an arm around his waist, pulling him closer and bringing your lips to his. The lingering scent of lavender and old books blended with the taste of tea and biscuits to create a sensation that you knew was completely unique. 'You and me', you'd agreed. And here you were, you and him. You kissed him deeper, relishing in the taste. George tasted just like you'd always imagined he would. Like home.

[lunafoster]

Oh No (part 2)

AN: here’s part twoooo!! Sorry for the long wait, it took me a while to Finnish it because of me being studying most of the time (I’m in the middle of finals, please wish me luck).

Warnings: none I think? Bad English (I’m sorry, I promise I’m trying), A little bit of sexy(?) dancing if you squint really hard; Bojan and his girlfriend being cute; Käärijä being shy and having thoughts about them both (not like that).

Pairings: Bojan Cvjetićanin x fem!actress!reader + a tiny bit of Bojan x Käärijä + a tiny bit of Käärijä x fem!actress!reader

Words: 1500+ (so, funny story, part 1 has 1685 words and this one has 1658 hehe)

Part 1

Anyway, let’s go!

After the… incident with Bojan and meeting his girlfriend, because Jere refused to call it anything else, the Finn had continued to make a fool out of himself that night.

Even though he had been partying with the others, his eyes would always end up wondering back to them dancing together. And, of course, they sometimes caught him staring.

Jere was aware that Bojan was hot; in fact, he had been made aware of that ever since they had met in Madrid. As time went on and they started getting closer, he also found out, to his demise, that he was a great person: funny, caring, kind, charming and talented.

However, what he hadn’t known was that he had a girlfriend, and that she was equally as hot and loveable as him, as he had discovered when he talked to her for a bit. What are the odds, huh.

He gave up trying to party at around 3 am, sitting with Luke in one of the tables and just discreetly watching as the two moved their hips to the beat in their own little world.

The Serbian, who was nursing his fifth drink of the night, watched him carefully and followed his fleeting gaze to Bojan and the girl, slightly smirking when he figured it out.

“Go dance with them,” he told Käärijä with the smuggest look on his face.

“What?” The rapper sputtered, quickly moving his eyes away from the couple, cursing himself when he felt the heat rising towards his cheeks.

“I think they wouldn’t mind, honestly,” Luke pointed to where the two were dancing with his head and took a sip of his drink.

Jere didn’t answer, his gaze shifting to them again and watching as they smiled at each other while dancing. They didn’t look like they wanted company, at all.

He turned back to Luke and awkwardly smiled, trying to get the thoughts of the couple out of his mind. He didn’t want to bother them with his presence in the middle of their- whatever they were doing with the heart eyes.

The Finn was about to tell his companion as much when, out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Alessandra talking to the girl and taking her away from Bojan to dance with her.

Bojan, because of course he would, immediately crossed gazes with him and started walking towards their booth.

“Here comes loverboy!” sung Luke before getting up, mumbling something about another drink.

“Wait-” and he was too far away to hear him, if not for the loud music.

“What’s wrong? Are you not having fun?” was the first thing Bojan asked, getting all close to his ear to be heard over the song that was playing in that moment.

Käärijä felt his warm breath on his face and didn’t know if he could blush any harder. Thank the colourful lights for covering that up for him.

The other man was looking at him waiting for an answer and Jere didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol, but his eyes were glassy. Bojan might be drunk. What do I do? Shit.

“Fun, yes yes,” he replied, breaking off of his stupor and putting on a smile, “and you?”

“Well,” he started, “they stole my girlfriend so I don’t have anyone to dance with now.” He was pouting.

Jere had the sudden urge to bite the other man’s lips, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to go and act on it. What kind of thoughts was he having in the worst moment possible? Stop it!

“I dance with you,” he told him, didn’t know where that idea came from, “if you want?” he added, more as a second thought than anything else.

Bojan smiled and took his hand, dragging him towards where all the dancing bodies were. And they did, dance, drink some more and laugh at each other’s weird moves.

A latin beat came up, Bojan was swaying and he didn’t know if it was from all the drinks he’d had or because of the music, but he was moving towards him and he didn’t know what to do.

“This is sexy song,” he put his hands up, in between himself and Bojan’s chest,” your girlfriend dance with you?”

“She can come dance with us,” he said with a smirk, taking his wrists in both of his hands and slowly lowering them to his sides.

Jere’s breath caught in his throat when he felt the Slovene’s hands on his hips, his eyes widened as he looked up at him, being unable to figure out if it meant anything at all for the other.

~~

Bojan was smiling, drunk enough that he could dance like this with the Finn and not feel shy about it. He looked down and his eyes softened when he saw the slight panic in Jere’s own.

He was about to withdraw from the other and apologise for making him uncomfortable when he felt a pair of familiar hands on his right forearm, slowly removing his hand from the rapper’s hip and letting a body get right in the middle of them, his girlfriend’s back to his chest and her smile directed at Käärijä as she looked up at him.

“Is this okay?” she asked him, looping her arms around the Finn’s neck.

~~

The older male swallowed and gave Bojan a questioning look. Was it really okay? When the other one gave him an encouraging nod, Jere moved his hands to her sides, with his heart beating so loudly he believed everyone else could hear it over the music.

The Finn found himself enjoying the next few songs. Dancing with the other two became fun when all they did was tell weird jokes and laugh at each other’s clumsiness.

It was around 6 am that his eyes started closing and his movements became more lethargic, yawning every now and then due to the tiredness he felt, the events of the day catching up to him.

“Should we get you to your hotel room, Jere?” the girl asked him, a soft smile on her face.

“I go alone,” he answered, not wanting to bother them with having to accompany him, “it’s fine.”

“We were thinking of going to sleep too, so we can totally get you to yours first!” Bojan said, slapping his thighs as he got up.

He couldn’t help but agree. It was true he liked their company, so what if he didn’t refuse? Maybe he wanted to keep talking to them for a little longer while they got to his room.

They said their goodbyes to the people that were still there and headed for the reception of the hotel to get to the lifts, all the while Bojan had an arm around him and the girl had her hand intertwined with his, which he assumed was because they were both a little bit more than tipsy.

When they entered the lift, a silence fell upon them. And Jere started looking anywhere except at them. When he sneaked a glance, Bojan and his girlfriend seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes.

He prided himself for being more sober than them and, in his slightly drunken state, he didn’t mind asking them what was happening. Though, as soon as he opened his mouth, the doors opened to his room’s corridor.

“Did you see Luke asleep on top of Remo?” she said, giggling cutely, or at least it was cute in his ears.

“And Remo’s face was priceless,” Bojan added, “he was like trying to ask for help but with his eyes.”

He couldn’t help but laugh with the other two, and inwardly mourn the loss of their chuckles when he could see the door to his room.

“This my room,” he told them both as he searched for the card in his pockets.

They both nodded and looked at each other before looking back at him.

“We had a great night, Jere!” she stated excitedly, “maybe we could hang out tomorrow?”

“We can go have lunch together or something,” Bojan agreed with her, nodding at him, trying to convince him.

As if he needed convincing.

“Yes yes,” he smiled, opening the door, “we see tomorrow.”

The other two high-fived and whispered little ‘yes’s, then said their goodbyes to Jere.

When he was about to close the door, the girl stopped him and gave him a peck on the cheek and murmured a silent ‘good night’ in Finnish, leaving him flustered with his head outside his room while the two left for their own.

~~

When the couple arrived at their room, they wasted no time in hoping into the shower, both too tired to do anything other than clean each other up and put on their pyjamas.

Bojan sat down on the bed while she removed her make up, looking at her with the most loving eyes she had ever seen.

“What did you think?”

“Of what?” she countered. “The night? Everyone? Or someone in particular?”

“You know what I’m asking,” he sighed, softly laughing to himself. She knew him so well.

“I like him,” she said, then, softly laughing as well, “I see why you told me so much about him.”

She went towards him once she was done with her skincare and straddled him on the bed, pecking his lips once, twice, and smiling with adoration in her eyes.

“Good.” He pushed them both further up the bed and gently settled them down inside the covers, cuddling up to her. “I kinda like him, too.”

They both smiled at each other with their foreheads touching and their legs entwined.

“Good night,” they whispered at the same time, to which they giggled for a while.

“We should really sleep,” she said in between giggles.

“We should,” he agreed, “we’re really drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk,” her eyelids began to fall.

“You are,” he closed his eyes.

Sleep took over them rather quickly that night.

AN2: hope you enjoyed it! If you want any more parts you’ll have to give it some love… this one took more time than I expected it to, but I still liked writing it! Love y’all! <3

[waltermis]

Mistake

MASTERLIST ↠ LAUREL LANCE MASTERLIST

Part 2 : Okay, Well I Guess That’s It Then

Summary: Today becomes the worst day ever when you catch the love of your life in bed with another person.

Warnings: cheating, swearing, angst with no happy ending

Pairings: Laurel Lance x reader, Laurel Lance x Oliver Queen

Prompt: “Tell me how to fix this! Please!” “That’s just it… you can’t.”

↠↠↠

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” 

“Shit! Y/N! What’re you doing here?” Laurel’s body shot up, pushing the body that was on top of her off; panic spread across her features.

“I was going to surprise you by making you dinner, seeing as you texted me saying that you were stressed about the Isaac case. But it looks like I was the one who was surprised.” You laughed sarcastically. “I’m leaving…”

“No no! Don’t leave! Tell me how to fix this! Please!” Laurel cried out, trying to scramble off the bed; nearly tripping when the sheets wrapped around her legs. However, she was quick to recover, wrapping the bedsheets around her nude body. Her companion dashed out from beneath the covers, guilt spread across his face.

“That’s just it… you can’t. Because this is unforgivable.” You said calmly, grabbing your purse. “You know…” You turned back, deciding that you had more to say to your cheater of an ex-girlfriend. “I always knew that you still loved him. I just didn’t think that you would do this to me.” Oliver was pulling on his pants, while trying to find his shirt.

“Y/N…” He tried to deescalate the situation.

“You, shut the fuck up!” You screamed at him. “I want you both out of my apartment! I want you out of here. Get out and don’t come back.”

“No! Baby please!” The Lance begged, wrapping her arms around your legs as her own gave up on her.  She buried her face in your thighs, causing you to think back on all the times she had done that when you two had a lazy day. “I’m sorry. This was a huge mistake. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m so sorry.”

“Get off me, Lance.” You growled out, practically kicking her off of you. You could feel the tears filling your eyes, but you clenched your jaw, refusing to give them the satisfaction of watching you break down. “How long has this been going on?” You demanded.

“Y/N/N, baby please!!!”

“How long?!” You screamed.

“Al-” Laurel stuttered. “Almost a year…” She muttered, looking down at her hands.

“God! I’m an idiot…” You ran a shaky hand through your hair, your vision blurring slightly.

“Sunshine please!” She tried begging again. By now, Oliver had already left, shame enveloping him like a cloud as he closed the front door. “Tell me how I can make this better.”

“What do you want me to say?! That a ‘sorry’ will suffice? ‘Cause it won’t. You betrayed me! Betrayed my trust! You’ve been lying to me for a year now! You were screwing someone behind my back! And during that time, you acted like I was the love of your life! How could you do this to us, Laurel?! To me!?”

“I-I don’t know… God what have I done?!” She began muttering to herself, eyes wide, darting everywhere.

“Why did you do this, Laurel? I thought that we were happy, but I guess not seeing how you threw 3 years of our relationship down the drain. I can’t believe that I thought for one second that you really loved me. Because you don’t! You love Oliver! He is everything I can’t be, right? He’s rich, handsome, social, fit, and outgoing. Everything I’m not and never will be able to be. He’s the love of your life.” Your voice broke during the last bit but you refused to let the tears fall. 

Laurel felt her heart breaking, she knew about your insecurities. She knew you felt like you weren’t good enough for her. And here she was, going from being the person that glued your broken heart back together to the person who broke it all over again. “Darling…” She sobbed, holding her hands in front of her, begging you.

“Don’t ‘darling’ me! I’m not your darling anymore. And apparently, I never was if you were so willing to fall into another person’s arms. I can’t believe I fell under your spell… Get out, you can collect your things tomorrow when I’m at work. But for now, I suggest you find a place to stay.” You opened the front door, escorting her out. Not before throwing her a pair of pants and a shirt seeing as she was still wrapped in the bedsheets.

“No, please… baby! I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.” She sobbed.

“You should have thought of the consequences, Laurel. After all, weren’t you the one to tell me that each action has a consequence?” You slam the front door in her face. Her sobs echoing in your mind, as you lean against the door, sliding down. “Fuck,” You whispered, finally letting the tears fall. 

↠↠↠

758 words

Part 2 : Okay, Well I Guess That’s It Then

[wincheskka]

Miss Him

Pairing : Dhawan!Master x Gn!Reader

Summary : At a companion support group meeting, you think of the Master because you miss him. (I'm so bad at this sorry)

Genre/Warning : Romance, angst, death mention, THE POWER OF THE DOCTOR SPOILERS

A/N : I'm still so sad for the end of the Master in The Power of the Doctor, I want him back right now !!!

English is not my native language so I’m really sorry for the spelling mistakes. (tell me if there are any errors)

You're sitting on a chair in the companion support group, it's been 2 months since you joined the group and also since the Doctor left. You don't talk in meetings, you just listen to their story about the Doctor, and that's what you do today too, listening to Tegan tell a story, you listen without really hearing what she's saying, you're especially lost in your thoughts. Since the Doctor left you feel sad but you are mostly sad because of the death of the Master.

When you met O, you liked him instantly, he was so kind to you and he listened to you more than the Doctor or anyone would, you quickly had a little crush on him, it is the first time this has happened to you when you have just met someone. When he revealed himself as the Master, one of the Doctor's worst enemies, you thought your crush on him would go away, but no, that's even reinforced, because you were always thinking about him during the trips with the Doctor, but also with the gentle touches he gave you when you were on Gallifrey.

You hated leaving the Doctor on Gallifrey, you didn't want her to die and you didn't want the Master to die either. When you were back on Earth, you spent 1 month thinking that both were dead and you often mourned the death of the Master. One day you were crying thinking about the Master, but you quickly wiped away your tears when you heard someone knocking on your front door, you didn't want anyone to see you cry. When you opened the door. you were very surprised and happy to see the Master in front of you with a smile on his face looking at you, what surprises you even more is the Master asking you to come with him to travel and you could not refuse this.

So you traveled with him, for a good while, you enjoyed traveling with him so much it was so different than traveling with the Doctor, what you enjoyed the most was the peaceful moments with him in his TARDIS. Every day you got closer and closer until you both became lovers. It was so nice, you wanted it to last forever but good things never last a long time.

The Master was hiding something from you, you knew it. He had his secrets for him and you respected that because you wanted him to take his time to confide in you, but this time this secret affected you both, he was much more distant from you, he slept less than usual, when you entered in the control room he hides some papers so that you couldn't see them.

It hurt you that he was hiding all this from you, that he was getting away from you, so one day you decided to confront him about this and you wish you hadn't because you had an argument and then he takes you home the same day he took you. He left you at home with a broken heart.

You were hoping every day, every week, every month that he would come to apologize and that you could go back to him, you were hoping until the day the Doctor came back. You went back to traveling with her, you missed traveling with the man you love, but you were hoping you could see him again while traveling with the Doctor and of course you did.

You didn't tell to the Doctor or Yaz about him and you because you knew they wouldn't like it and they wouldn't trust you anymore, but the Master didn't care to tell them.

~

The Master once again takes his head out of the elevator in which he was taken by two UNIT soldiers, you look at him, next to you the Doctor and Yaz do the same :

"Doctor did Y/N tell you that we both traveled together ?" He asks with a smirk.

You feel your blood freeze, your eyes widen. You didn't want to tell the Doctor about it but he had to tell her, you should have known he would. The Master gets pushed into the elevator and then the doors close. You feel all eyes on you, you don't dare look at anyone so you get into the TARDIS.

The Doctor and Yaz enter in the TARDIS and the Doctor's eyes immediately goes to you, she approaches you, you look at her anxiously because you know what she is going to say :

"Y/N is this true ?" She asks with a hope in her eyes that the Master is lying that you couldn't have traveled with him. Yaz approaches the Doctor, she looks at you, like you are the enemy.

"Th-That's in the past now" You just tell her not wanting her to continue with the subject.

You see the hope in the Doctor's eyes disappear at your words, you know she feels betrayed and you didn't want that. Yaz doesn't want to look at you anymore so she turns to the controls of the TARDIS.

"Is this really in the past ?" asks the Doctor with hope still in her eyes.

"Yes, yes it's in the past" You're lying, you are definitely not going to tell her that you love her worst enemy.

The Doctor nods but you knew she didn't really believe you, she turns to the controls and you hear Yaz and her talking but don't listen to what they say, you sigh and close your eyes for a few seconds. Have you lost the trust of your friends ? You think about it, not wanting it to be true.

You are afraid of what the Master is planning, for the Doctor's safety but also for his, you love him and you don't want to lose him.

You won't lose him...Isn't it ?

~

Yaz runs out of the TARDIS after seeing on the TARDIS screen the Qurunx's energy ray is hit the Doctor causing her to be thrown through the air and fall to the ground unconscious.

You are afraid for the Doctor but when you look at the screen you see the Master outside his TARDIS, also unconscious. your heart squeezes painfully seeing him like this with the planet destroying. You too start to run out of the TARDIS but you feel someone grab your arm and stop you from running, you turn to the person and see Kate holding you tight, you frown not understanding why she's doing this.

You struggle with her grip but you see someone else holding you, Ace. You understand then that they don't let you going to get the Master, at this realization you struggle even more, you can't let him die on this planet, the two women still do not let you go, they do it when Yaz has the Doctor in her arms.

When they let go, you run outside but before you can set foot outside, the TARDIS doors close in front of you, you frown and open the door but it won't open. You start to feel the anxiety rising more and more. You try with all your strength to open it but fail, tears start to form in your eyes.

No, no that can't happen.

You can't lose him.

You can't.

"OPEN THIS DOOR !" You shout while hitting on the door without even paying attention to the others. More you hit the door more the realization comes to you, what you didn't want to happen, happens, you lose the man you love.

You feel your knees give way, you fall to the ground sobbing. You hope it's just a nightmare that you'll wake up next to him, that he'll kiss you so you know he's okay, but no, it's not a dream, it's reality. The Master, the man you love is dead.

~

"Y/N" You hear a voice calling you, which brings you out of your sad thoughts, you look to the left and see Graham looking at you, you didn't even notice that Tegan was done talking. "Do you want to tell us something about the Doctor ?" Graham asks with a little smile to reassure you.

"N-No sorry" You answer, you don't want to talk, not now. You hear Yaz sigh, you turn your head to look at her, she's sitting in front of you, she looks at you with anger, every time you came to the meeting she looked at you like that, she doesn't trust you anymore now that she knows that you have traveled with the Master.

"She has a lot more to say about the Master than the Doctor" Yaz said with displeasure and glaring at you. You lower your head and look at your hands on your knees, tears forming in your eyes. You feel so alone now, you feel like no one can understand you.

"She can talk about him if she wants" Graham said with kindness in his voice, you look at him surprised but also with sadness.

"Who would want to hear me talk about him when everyone here hates him" You say looking at every person in this room, you know none of them would understand what you could say about him.

"I don't know him, so you can talk about him, it doesn't bother me" Says Dan on your right, you look at him and give him a sad smile

"Thanks Dan but I…" You lower your head to look at your knees, but the tears blur your vision, you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from sobbing in front of them "I miss him so much" You say with pain in your voice, you take a breath "And I won't be able to see him again because of you" You say looking at Kate and Ace to your right with sadness and anger. "You prevented me from going to see him, from being by his side"

"It was to protect you from him Y/N" Ace tells you, her words make you even more angry, how can she say that without knowing what you and him had.

"I didn't need to be protected from him because I love him" You admit, you see Ace freeze at your confession, there is now no more noise in the room, nobody knew you love the Master, even if some suspected it, tears run down your cheeks, you look away from Ace and look at the ground in front of you. “I love him and I could never tell him again because now he's dead”

"Dead ? Who said I was dead ?" Says a voice you recognize immediately, you raise your head towards the entrance and you see the person you never thought you'd see again, the Master, he's leaning on the door frame.

Your eyes widen in shock, tears this time of joy are running down your cheeks, you can't believe he's here. The Master looks at you with a smile, he wears his beautiful purple jacket that you love so much.

Everyone in the room gets up from their chairs and looks at him. Kate pulls out her gun and points it at the Master, you pay no attention to it, you get up from your chair, this time no one can stop you from going to him, you run to him and hug him, he hugs you too and you cry into his shoulder :

"It's alright love, I'm here now" The Master whispers these sweet words in your ear, you raise your head from his shoulder and look into his eyes.

"I missed you so much" You tell him with tears running down, he takes your face in his hands and looks at you with so much love, you really miss him looking at you like that.

"I missed you too love" He says to you wiping your tears with his thumbs, you look at each other for a few more seconds then he removes his hands from your face and turns to look at the Doctor's former companions and gives them a smirk "I'm not going to kill you, even if what you said to Y/N makes me want to do it, I just came here for Y/N"

His words warm your heart, you look at him with so much admiration and love. The Master looks at each of them then his eyes stop on Yaz, his smirk widens, you look at Yaz too, she looks at him with so much hate :

"Yaz by the way, how's the Doctor doing ?" The Master asks sarcastically, Yaz looks at him with even more hate in her eyes.

You look at the Master, take his wrist in your hand and squeeze it a little, he looks at you, you shake your head wanting him to leave her alone, even if Yaz doesn't see you as her friend anymore, she still is for you. The Master sighs in defeat, he only wants your happiness. He takes your hand in his :

“Are you ready to go love ? He asks you with love.

You look at everyone in the room one last time, then look at him and you nod impatiently and then you both run away together.

You can't wait to see where he plans to take you in the next adventures, but for now you especially want to enjoy being with him and tell him how much you love him and only him. It hurt you so much when he wasn't with you but now that he's here with you it doesn't hurt anymore.

[luimagines]

Tug ‘o’ War

Another Commission!

They asked for their OC with Sky..... Let’s be real. At this point you all know who this is XD

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When Sky first saw them, he knew that he wanted to be their friend.

They weren���t too excited with the idea though. They often avoided him when they could and struggled to meet him in the eye. 

Which was fine. At first anyway. Sky was willing to work around whatever they may have been going through. Fledge is similar in that regard, but that didn’t stop Sky from interacting with him and befriending the young man. So Sky refused to let it stop him from interacting with Enno as well.

That was unfortunately easier said than done.

He tried to keep up with them and meet them at their level but they always seemed to find an excuse to get away from him. Was he scary? Did he intimidate them? Was it something he did when they first met that had them hating him? It hurts to imagine.

So Sky had to pause from interacting with them. He watched them interact with the others though. They seem to get along great with Twilight and Wind. They joked and rough housed. Enno seemed to constantly seek out either of their attention but Sky couldn’t figure out what he was doing differently than they were.

Once Sky was paired up with Twilight (seeing as Enno was paired up with Wind), Sky took it upon himself to get to the bottom of it. He had to be missing something.

“Hey… Twilight…” Sky pokes the arm of his companion. “I have a question.”

The other turned around and hiked up his scabbard on his back. “Sure, what’s up?”

Sky rubbed his arms, feeling a strange bout of butterflies in his stomach. “You talk to Enno a lot so you know them better than I do at this point. Would you say that I scare them? Or did I do something to get them to hate me?”

Twilight paused. “...What?”

“Yeah-! Because every time I try to talk to them, they always seem to try to drop out of the conversation. They look at everything but me. But they don’t have a problem with you, or Wind or the Old Man -especially not Warrior. They get along fine with Legend and Wild and they even dote on Hyrule. They even look Four in the eye! Am I doing something wrong?” Sky huffed. He didn’t intend to let those amount of words slip out of his mouth but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that clearly he was singled out. He just couldn’t figure out why.

Twilight continues to stare at Sky, not letting any thought slip onto his face. “And you haven’t thought of any reason why?”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if I would have been able to figure it out on my own.” Sky gripes. “I’ve tried. I’m still lost. Help me.”

Twilight finally begins to show signs of amusement on his face. “I was more or less sworn to secrecy, but I can point you in the right direction.”

“Sworn to secrecy?” Sky echoes under his breath. He gasps. “So you do know!”

“Yes. Most of us do, actually.” Twilight shrugs. “It’s obvious.”

“...Obv-... obvious?”

“Yes.” Twilight isn’t trying to be mean on purpose, but the chosen hero of Hylia can be quite dense. “Look. At best, just flirt with them and watch their reaction.”

“Wouldn’t that be the worst thing I could do?”

“Most of the time.” Twilight wants to shake him. “But in these circumstances, it’ll work like a charge. Just try it.”

Sky did not, in fact, want to try it.

It seemed like the biggest jerk move, to hit on them, when he clearly makes them uncomfortable as it is. Not only does he think that it would make the problem worse but he’s not exactly inclined to come off as Warrior does from time to time.

But as days went by and nothing seemed to get better, Sky found himself getting more and more desperate for answers. He just didn’t know what it was that made them avoid him so much. He was a good guy! Right? Oh god, what if he wasn’t? What if he ruined his chances before he started? What if he makes it worse? What if there’s no way for him to fix this?

He gets paired with Enno for the day as they travel.

The walk is awkward and silent. Sky is used to silence but there’s an underlying hint of dying inside between the two of them. Given by the way they keep their head down the entire time, Sky thinks that he’s not half wrong with his intuition. 

Twilight words echo in his head. It’s still a terrible idea. But now that they’re alone… it’s tempting. He can start slow and steady. Soft and sincere. Maybe they just got off on the wrong foot. He should start by saying something nice. Maybe that would loosen them up.

“I like your jacket.” Sky says quietly. “It looks soft.”

Enno freezes. They stop dead in their tracks but keep their head down. Sky can almost hear the gears turning in their head. Clearly, they weren’t expecting it.

They cough and nod. And start walking again, if a little faster than before.

Sky matches their pace easily. He sighs. A failed attempt. Try again?

“I also think your markings are cool.” Sky swallows the bitter pill that his nerves have bundled up together. “Are they tattoos like Twilights… or closer to the markings from the Old Man?”

Is that a personal question? Sky cringes internally. He’s never been this bad at socializing. When did his skills tank?

They actually trip over their own feet for a moment before finding their voice. It’s quiet and a tad forced. “Um… n-no. It’s more like… the marks of my people.”

“Your people?” Well that’s the most he’s ever heard from them. This can go somewhere! “I’ve never seen markings like that on anybody. Where are you from?” 

They curl a little into themselves, hiding their nose behind their cloak. “It’s far away. …I doubt you’ve heard of it. Twilight knows though. Even if he goes by the same thing even though it was my name first.”

Wait… what? Sky tilts his head. “Do you know Twilight? Have you met him before this whole journey.”

They seem to freeze again, their eyes widening ever so slightly. “Well… yes and no. He’s… been to my home before and I’ve been to his but we’ve never actually met before this.”

“Interesting.” Sky nods and hooks his thumbs through his belt. Maybe Twilight knew more about them than Sky was willing to bet. Ok then, small flirt to test out his theory. “Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes.” They adjust the cloak over their nose. They’re still trying to hide from him but they’re talking at least so that’s a start. 

Sky nods again, trying to appear nonchalant. “Is it pretty?”

“Very.”

“Do all people look like you?” Sky has a line in his head that he wants to say but he needs to build to it or else it might not work.

Enno hums, or whines (?), and shakes their head. “I’m the only one like me.”

“Shame.” Sky says. “But I suppose unique beauty is all the more stunning when it stands out amongst the common design.”

He wants to kick himself. His delivery was horrible.

Sky only manages to stop himself from face palming before Enno makes a high keening sound. It keeps Sky away from his own self judgment as he turns to look at them in concern. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fINe.” They squeak. A light pulsates from their markings, catching Sky’s attention.

He finds himself smiling. “Incredible.”

“What is?” They sound horrified.

Sky doesn’t miss a beat. “You are.”

They put their hand over their mouth, even though their cloak was already doing all of the work. Their markings pulsate once more, brighter and more vibrant than before. Sky grins in response to it. It’s stunning. The way the teal and black mend into the white light. If he was certain they were tattoos before, here is his proof that they’re not.

“It’s beautiful.” He breathes out. Sky can feel himself forgetting where he is and who he’s talking to. But it’s so genuine, he can’t seem to stop the words as they fall out of his mouth. “You’re beautiful. Have you always been able to do this?”

“Stop.” They say.

Sky takes a step back to give them space. He might have overstepped his boundaries.

“I’m sorry.” He says automatically.

“No, that’s not-” They cut themselves off, seemingly growing more frustrated by the second. “Not you. Hold on. I can’t. Wait.”

Sky waits. 

“Are you ok?” He wants to take a step closer but he’s afraid that there’s going to be major repercussions if he tries to intervene.

“Not your fault!” They yell, probably louder than they were intending. They wince at their own volume and wrap their arms around themselves. “Just- hold- hold on… I’m trying.”

The light pulsates again. It’s even brighter than the last time and each new wave of light seems to last longer than the first.

Sky can’t even begin to comprehend what’s happening. “Did… did I do something wrong?”

“Nope!” They yell and something strange happens. The light pulsates again but it stays, blinding Sky for one terrifying and confusing second. He reacts in the only way he can. By holding his breath and covering his face as he steps away.

Sky’s breath gets caught in his throat and he lowers his arms from his face once the light has died down completely.

“You!” A new voice screams.

Sky blinks. There’s two people there… where there was once only one. The man gets up faster than the young woman and manages to tackle her down before she can dive towards Sky. Sky steps away, putting his hands up in surrender. There’s no thoughts in his head- only information processing mode.

What just happened? What is happening? 

“Twilight!” The young man yells. “There’s no reason to attack him! Leave him be!”

“Do you know how hard it is to hold ourselves together as it is?” ‘Twilight’, who is not his teammate, screams back. “It’s his fault. He’s too cute and pretty and nice!”

Sky points to himself intelligently. “M-me?”

Twilight screams in indignation. The other, which has yet to be named, looks to Sky apologetically. The young man is blushing. “Sorry. We’ll fix it in a moment. Just give us some time to get a grip and we’ll be back to your Enno.”

“...My Enno...” Sky repeats.

“Dusk!” The woman summons a massive battle ax and swings it. She doesn’t get far with it, seeing as ‘Dusk’ is pinning her arms down as he holds her. “So help me! Let! Me! Go!”

“No!” He yells. “I’m not letting you hurt him. Calm down.”

“Never tell a woman to calm down!”

“I’ve never been more lost.” Sky admits, sagging in on himself. “Can we start from the beginning?...Maybe with the whole ‘he’s pretty’ part?”

Twilight screams again.

Dusk only seems to blush deeper. “It’s a long story, even if she’s right.”

Slowly becoming exhausted, Twilight starts to calm down. Dusk continues talking. “We’re both Enno.”

“Both of you?” Sky points. He receives a nod in reply. “Enno is …two people?”

“Enno is one person.” Twilight huffs and crosses her arms, dropping her battle ax. It just misses Dusk’s foot. “But between the two of us we both make up Enno. It’s not like there’s two voices. We meld. We mix. We are Enno.”

Sky takes a long and deep suffering breath. “Can… Can this be fixed?” He asks, if only because he’s afraid that it’s permanent. “Is there a way to do that?”

“Yes.” Dusk replies, mirroring the same long experienced suffering sigh. “We just need to get a grip. Like I said.”

“You’re such a jerk.” Twilight pouts. 

Sky nods, keeping his mouth shut. He’s doomed.

[triplesilverstar]

Helloo I love ur trigun fics

I dunno if ur blog is open to this but

The song "Love like You" from the show Steven Universe reminds me a whole lot of Snipes and Vash! <3

Mostly about Snipes singing how someone like Vash continues loving her even after what she's done... And her wanting to become how he sees her so that she feels worthy of his love (if that makes sense lol)

These lines hit had:

"I always thought I might be bad

Now I'm sure that it's true

'Cause I think you're so good

And I'm nothing like you

Look at you go

I just adore you

I wish that I knew

What makes you think I'm so special

If I could begin to do

Something that does right by you

I would do about anything

I would even learn how to love"

That's all. Okie, thank you for letting me in your ask box <33

Aw thank you I'm glad you've enjoyed them. As to the idea I totally loved it. I've never really done a song fic before so here's my best attempt. I decided to work it into one the fics as a chapter just because my list of one shots is getting a little long...

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Injuries, blood, pining, 

Word count: 2.2K 

A/N: I’ve made this Chapter two of Gunless Duet

You should have known that eventually, your good luck had to run out. It always does. And just like always it runs out at the worst possible moments. Sitting at the bar while watching Vash once more being the life of the party, and this time he had tried to bring you into the fun with him. 

“Come on Snipes, let loose just this once? You deserve to enjoy yourself too.” A puppy dog for a plead and you shook your head watching him go back to cavorting around. You aren’t like him, yet he refuses to let that stop him from asking you to join him each and every time. If only you were half of the person he thought you were. You’re not. You’re the farthest thing from what he thinks you are.

Hiding how you feel behind an expression of boredom as a pretty brunette takes his hand and gets him to dance with her. A glare sent your way as if she perceives you as some sort of threat for his affection, a shake of your head as you take another sip of your water and listen to the music playing in the background with the sound of laughter.

Sensing a familiar presence slip up beside you it’s hard not to chuckle, he’s like a tomas with a worm. Determined to not stop trying to catch the damn thing. “Could I get what she’s having?” It’s a cute little ploy on his part to make it seem like he’s still drinking when really he’s had enough, your short glass making it seem like you’re drinking something far stronger. 

As Vash throws the drink back you do your best to avert your eyes. Lately, all you can think about is the bubbling attraction for the tall sunshine blond. It’s becoming a problem you don’t want to face, because you know he can’t feel the same way. No matter how many times you’ve tried to slip away from him to find him waiting for you with a grin at whatever town's exit. Like he’s waiting for you and it makes your heart beat painfully inside your chest. He’s not. You’re a decent traveling companion and he’s an infamous bounty so traveling with a well know bounty hunter makes sense. No one would believe he’s the humanoid typhoon. Yet it still makes your chest do funny things when you leave him at the hotel, or a restaurant, like he’s worried you might try and slip away from, wondering when you’re coming back. 

Your thoughts of reminiscing are out the window in no time when the sound of breaking glass reaches your ears and Vash is pulled against the brunette from earlier. A knife against his throat and there’s a crazed look in her eyes as she glances around the room like a wild animal that’s been caged against its will. “Nobody moves, I’m just gonna take my prize and leave got it!” 

Shit. She’s not a woman that was hoping to get into bed with the blond, she’s another bounty hunter and all the glares sent your way make a hell of a lot more sense. She thought you were the competition. 

Your body moves as if on autopilot, your rifle unstrapped, the butt pressed into the metal plate of your shoulder as your stare at her above your scope. At this range, you don’t need it. “I think you’re making a mistake. Let him go unless you want another hole in your head, cept this one will have some grey matter pouring out.” You can’t try to talk it out like Vash would, not with the fear clutching your heart. You also thought you were bad, and the more time you spend with the blond you know it’s true because even now he’s trying to diffuse the situation. 

“I think there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding here ladies. No reason to pull rifles and knives out right?” He’s willing to always put his life on the line if it means saving someone, he’s too much of a goody-toe shoe, and you’re nothing like him. It’s a good thing because you wish you could see all the good he sees in people. 

“No. I know exactly who you are.” It’s hissed from the woman like a curse and you have no doubt she knows she has the real Vash the Stampede. 

“Are you sure? I get confused for a lot of people miss, I mean we were just dancing a little while ago.” A flicker across her face as if she does doubt herself now. You might not be willing to admit it, but it is something that charms you whenever you see it in action. Vash’s ability to talk his way out of almost getting dragged off by people he meets, all with soft words that resonate with the people he speaks to. 

As Vash speaks his eyes never leave yours though, he maintains that eye contact like it’s his the string that keeps this bundle of chaos from falling apart. Almost like he knows you’re there to help him diffuse the situation instead of making it worse. You don’t understand it and you aren’t sure you ever will when he looks at you like you’re something special and you have no idea how he could have ever come to that realization. You wish you knew when he looked at you like that why he thought you were so much more than you are. 

As the other bounty hunter begins to step back you see your opening, the briefest flicker of her eyes as she checks to make sure she’s heading out the door with Vash. You dart forward and in those few partial seconds you have your grip on your rifle reversed. Just in time to slam the butt plate into the side of her temple.

Only for her knife to slide along the side of his neck and you see red gush from his pale neck as both of them drop. It’s like watching the world in slow motion as your heart pounds inside your chest. The slow rise of his hand to place pressure against his neck and the deep slice that spurts in time to the pumping of his blood through his veins. 

When your luck runs out. It really does run out at the worst times. 

Your rifle is back in your shoulder as your eyes settle on the knocked out woman and you’re ready to pull the trigger. 

“Snipes.” A quick utterance with his voice barely audible to your ears but he has your attention. “I know she didn’t mean.” He’s right. All of Vash’s wanted posters make it clear that he’s wanted alive, so slicing his neck adds a layer of risk to her getting the cash for him. No one pays for the dead when the poster clearly states the one option for turning him in. Grinding your teeth together as your rifle remains pointed at the center of her chest and you so desperately want to pull the trigger, that voice inside of you screaming how she deserves it. She could have killed Vash. 

“Snipes. You’re better than that.” The rage flooding your system isn’t subsiding and it’s a hard pill to swallow, but the more rational side of you is winning over with the help of his statement. As much as part of you is screaming bloody murder, it isn’t what Vash would want, and in the end that wins. Stepping back before slinging your rifle and checking on the tall blond. He should have been your concern from the start.

“Keep the pressure on your neck.” Gazing around the room at the patrons who seem to be letting out a collective sigh of relief. “Is there a doctor or a nurse nearby? Both of them need to be seen.” You made this situation worse by dragging it out after the threat had been neutralized, so the least you can try to do to make it up to Vash, to make it right, is to make sure both of them are seen by a doctor. It’s a first step in trying to fix the mistakes you made today. 

“What did he mean by mistaken identity?” 

It’s a voice of reason in the bar and you’re quick on your feet. “A lot of people confuse him for Vash the Stampede because of how much he looks like the wanted poster.”

“Are they dumb? He’s nothing like that maniac.” You don’t miss the flinch behind Vash’s eyes but it’s better this way. He needs medical attention as you help him stand, ensuring he keeps the pressure on his neck and if it’s even possible he looks paler than before. Swallow as you share a bit more back and forth before following an older man out the door towards the clinic, someone else having been sent to fetch the doctor and tell him what had happened. 

“I knew you could end that without more violence.” You keep your mouth shut as Vash whispers his version of a thank you. He shouldn’t be thanking you. He should be screaming how you made things so much worse as you trudge along the sandy road towards the clinic. Another reminder of how downright good Vash is, and you’re nothing like him. You never will be.

As you step into the clinic the doctor takes Vash first. “It’s not that bad honest.” Smiling gently at the doctor as Vash tries to get him to see the unconscious woman who’s being hand-cuffed to a chair in the waiting area. “Just wait here and I’ll be back in no time.” Biting your tongue before you can argue, a short nod and you head towards another chair and drop down into it. 

A final meeting of your eyes as the door closes and you see how shaken he looks as the wood turns into a barrier between you. It strikes you then why you had been willing to throw your own morals and beliefs out the window the second Vash was injured like that because that could have been life-threatening. Well, you’re still not sure it isn’t life threatening and he’s just putting on a facade for your sake. 

You’re hopelessly in love with Vash the Stampede. 

The feelings you’ve been ignoring since your tussle in the sand when he found out about your scars, found out about the monster lurking just under your skin. How you’re nothing like him. Not in the slightest. A man-made monster from another world that was willing to let them start the process and was too foolish to see what it all would amount to in the end.

You're lying to yourself again. These feelings of attraction and affection started long before then, hell they might have started when he saved you from turning into hamburger when you were holding onto the edge of the metal floor over the cliff in that dilapidated old building. You’ve been shoving those budding feelings down because you don’t deserve them, and he deserves better than a broken morally grey person like you. Shoving those thoughts down once more as you remind yourself he doesn’t care for you that way. You’re a friend. Just a friend. Vash treats everyone he meets the same way he treats you, the difference is the two of you are still traveling together and the stubborn blond still joins you in the single bed to make sure you don’t run out on him again. 

Snapped from your musing when the door opens once more and Vash strides out as if on top of the world. There isn’t even a bandage or anything on his neck from the slice, just a thin red line. “I told you it wasn’t that bad.” 

“You were gushing blood.” Firing right back at him only for the doctor to intervene. 

“Injuries like the one this young man received can often seem far worse than they are. I can assure you it’s no more than a scratch. There might have been a bit more bleeding than normal because of the alcohol in his system as well.” You don’t want to believe either of them, you know when you see arterial blood spurting. 

Clenching your hand into a fist as you think back on how the rest of the night has gone, you do let it go. Maybe in your panic, your mind did play tricks on you, making it seem far worse then it was. “I do think a night of rest would help. Ready to head back to the hotel? I think I’m done partying for the night.” 

The soft smile he sends you is dazzling and it’s not one of his masks that he wears to make others feel better. You see if so rarely that every time it makes your brain stutter, no wonder so many people flirt with him. “Yea. Lets head back.” When he looks at you like that, you know you aren’t like him, you’ll never be anything like him. 

But.

It does make you think you could do anything, that maybe you could learn to be a little more like Vash and love the world the way he does instead of judging it. 

To learn how to love like him. 

Back to Masterlist for the series 

[dismalzelenka]

Febuwhump 2 - Solitary Confinement

Context for this one: Miriam's been subsumed by Hadar as a consequence of betraying her pact and has been brought back by her sister with some questionable divine help.

Her magic is volatile, and there's a lot of holes in her memory, and even though Eleanor checks on her every day, she doesn't remember the visits.

This contains spoilers for one of the available companion endings.

Pairing: Gale/Tav

CW: briefly mentioned failed suicide attempt

Read From Beginning || Previous || Next

"It didn't work." Eleanor stands at the altar, arms crossed as she wills Gale's avatar to come face her. She's found he tends to appear faster if she kneels, but this time, she refuses to offer him that courtesy, not when he owes her a massive explanation.

He answers with a faint whoosh, the charged scent of Karsite magic rippling in the air as he materializes before her. It's an odd space Eleanor occupies these days, because by all conventional definition, this is the god she worships, if it could even be called that. She prefers to consider them allies in pursuit of a common goal, but she supposes the nature of her divinely inherited powers these days doesn't particularly care about that little nuance. Sometimes, she thinks, neither does Gale.

"Explain," he says. "I sense her presence here, so I assume something must have gone according to plan."

"I've reconstructed her body using the theories we've discussed, it's true." She pauses, studies the body language of Gale's avatar in fascination. She wonders idly how many people in this life have had the experience of playing sister-in-law to a god. "Her mind is in tatters. I fear the Far Realms have taken something from her that cannot be recovered."

Gale's avatar ripples, becomes more corporeal, shrinking into something deceptively human. His skin loses its lustrous pallor, his eyes fade into their old soft brown with a tiny smattering of wrinkles at their edges. Grey streaks thread through his hair. In this form, he almost looks kind. "Show me."

---

Miriam doesn't know how long she's been in this room. It's a familiar room, familiar beyond the fact that she's been trapped here so long she can feel her mind unraveling. The clock above the polished mahogany desk circles the same hour every hour, and try as she might, she can't seem to keep track of the minutes that it does measure.

She's tried writing them down, but the parchment always vanishes when she puts it down; and she's tried holding onto it, but her mind wanders so erratically that she forgets what its doing in her hand within seconds of rolling it up. She's tried carving notches in the wall, too. That would have been an effective solution, except at times she finds herself carving them into other shapes, and by the time she comes back to herself, the orderly rows of lines she's been carefully curating has become a jumbled mess.

The worst is the silence. It presses in on her like a vise clamped around her ears. Sometimes she screams to break it -- obscenities, hysterical laughter, poorly recreated songs she only remembers a handful of words at a time -- but inevitably all that does is break her more when she runs out of sounds.

There is a balcony on the far side of the room. Sometimes she steps beyond the doors and finds herself looking across a harbor she doesn't recognize. She'd tried to throw herself over it into the water below, once, but there is an invisible enchantment that ripples with power that locks her in. Sometimes the sunlight is soothing. Mostly, it's another reminder that she's lost something she cannot wrap her mind around.

There is a blank section of the far wall that once housed a bookcase she's long since torn down piece by piece in sporadic fits of rage. Now there is only a messy scrawl of black ink across the stone:

my name is miriam my name is miriam my name is miriam my name is miriam MY NAME IS MIRIAM MY NAME IS MIRIAM

How many times can she repeat a name before it, too, becomes lost in the endless wash of history that refuses to straighten into an order that makes sense?

---

"You've locked her in my old study?" Gale almost sounds amused as Eleanor leads him to the scrying screen she's installed beside the door. "You do know this is where her entire plight began."

Eleanor clamps down on a familiar ripple of annoyance. "If you'd been paying attention, you'd know it's also the only room warded heavily enough to weather her outbursts of magic. I require further testing to be sure, but I suspect the traces of the True Weave in her blood are directly at odds with the magic that brought her back." Your magic, she thinks darkly to herself. "It took me three weeks to restore your old bedroom after she spent one night in there."

"Curious." He runs a hand along the scrying screen, and Eleanor wants to scream at how detached he sounds. She barely stifles a cruel, vindicated laugh when he jumps at the sound of something slamming against the door.

"Let me out!" Miriam screams. "Please! You can't keep me alone in here forever!" Her sobs never get any less heart wrenching. "Is anybody out there??" Then the pounding begins anew, and Eleanor steels her heart against what always comes next.

"When was the last time you saw her in person?" Gale asks, and with each blow that rattles the wood as Miriam throws herself against the door, his porcelain visage finally begins to crumble.

"This morning," Eleanor says. She means to sound as detached as he always does, means to try to hurt him with how little he's made her care, but her words come out as a choked whisper. "She never remembers me."

[francesminos-tt]

Twisted -3-

Daeron retired to his room at precisely 8pm. Miss K was kind enough to offer him some night tea, but Daeron refused politely. Instead, he asked for two bottled water and a copy of today’s local newspaper before entering his room and locking the door.

There were only two rooms in this small tavern, one tucked in the back, spacious with a view of the garden, the other small and facing the streets. Daeron opted for the small one, not because he couldn’t afford the spacious one, but he needed the convenience of observing the streets and the villagers passing by.

Daeron wiped away the thin layer of dust on the desk, carefully took the notebook out of his pocket, put down two water bottles, fished out his pills from the backpack, and sat down. He took some time to align the pill bottle and two water bottles perfectly before opening this notebook and began to write.

Daeron had developed the habit of writing his thoughts down since he was ten. His therapist suggested that he used this as an outlet of his emotions, to let your thoughts out, not keeping them in, sweetie. Daeron couldn’t even remember what the kind therapist looked like, but he took her advice. Over the years, his notebook served more than just a dairy, but an anchor to keep him in the reality.

Daeron flipped through the newspaper, its headline reading Expect a hot summer this year and mind your crops! The local issue contained mostly information of weather, farming, back yard sale, farmer’s market or interesting convention a few towns over, advertisements, and so on. The most dubious thing Daeron found in this newspaper was someone called Y asking for a companion to share his large house and look after his cow. No mention of the three bodies flooded out of the swamp just outside of the village.

Daeron was suspended from duty due to his violent behavior towards a murder suspect, so he had lost his privilege of accessing the police database. Still, he followed crime news as best as he could, especially cases involving pre-teen girls. The three bodies that had been flooded out were all skeletons, their flesh gone, but from the height of the skeletons, it was clear that they were all children. Daeron had a hunch that there was more to this cold case than it appeared. That was why he came to Arcadia.

After reading the newspaper for three times and found nothing useful, Daeron sighed and folded the paper back to its original state. He placed the neatly folded paper on the desk and took two pills with water before lying down on his bed.

He stared at the ceiling; the nicely carved mahogany spoke to the history of this place. Not only this tavern, but the whole village seemed to be frozen in the past, in a time when everyone trusted everyone. This place was an ideal image of country life, quiet and friendly, the beauty of nature bringing out the best of humanity.

Or the worst.

Daeron felt his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. He fell asleep with a white farm house and a pair of flirty dark eyes in mind.

May 29th

The village is quieter than I expected. I haven’t met many people yet, but the tavern owner, Miss K, told me that the town square is the place to go to meet new people. I might test my luck there tomorrow.

There was no news about the burial site before my phone died. I will have to use the classic approach and consult the newspaper for further updates. I still think there are more victims than the three bodies flooded out of the mud. My instinct is rarely wrong.

I met a young man Joffrey is He has dark hair He is chatty flirty beautiful

A young man showed me around the village. He lived in the white farm house on the hill. His name is Joffrey.

================================================

Joffrey took another shower after he finished washing the dishes and feeding the dog at the backyard. He changed into a set of cheeky lingerie paired with a silk robe. He switched off all lights in the house and went to the master bedroom.

Master was already in bed, a book in hand with his reading glasses on. He was relaxed and casual, his neat hair brushed back to reveal his unimpressed face. He wore a simple navy-blue T-shirt, rimmed reading glassed hanging dangerously on his nose as he flipped the pages. He looked ordinary at best. An ordinary farmer who lived in the village all his life.

But to Joffrey, Master was nothing but ordinary. Joffrey learned to admire the neatly combed hair, the small crease between his brows, thin lips, grey blue eyes, the narrow jaw, well defined chest and arms, large calloused hands, the hairs on his navel, strong legs, and warm cock. Joffrey shifted at the door way as his panties grew uncomfortably tight. Just imagining Master naked under the sheets was enough to make him whine for attention.

“Come here, good boy.” Master put down the book and smiled at Joffrey, “Don’t ruin the carpet with your slutty juice.”

Joffrey didn’t need to be told twice. He strode to the bed and threw himself at his Master, nuzzling the man’s chest like a clingy cat.

“Did you feed the dog?” Master asked him, parting Joffrey’s robe and brushing against the boy’s pink nipple under the sheer lingerie.

“Yes, Master.” Joffrey shifted on the sheets to give the man more access, “He liked the leftover chicken.”

“Because it is stained with your blood, dear Joffrey.” Master chuckled, grabbing Joffrey’s leaking cock over his panties, “You know my dog shares my taste. I like your blood too.”

Joffrey had cut his finger while preparing for the herbed chicken, and Master forbid him to wash the blood stain away, so they had chicken seasoned with Joffrey’s blood tonight.

“I am all yours, Master.” Joffrey murmured with all the honesty in the world, “My blood, flesh, bones, and soul. You made me, Master. I am your creation.”

The man’s breath caught in his throat. For a fleeting moment, his mask cracked, all his confidence and grace gone, leaving only his core, raw and vulnerable. He kissed Joffrey’s murmuring lips, their breath tangled together like their limbs.

“Can I have your cock tonight, Master?” Joffrey asked, sneaking his hand down to grab the man’s throbbing length, “Please. I haven’t felt you inside of me for so long.”

“It’s only two days.” Master chuckled.

“It’s an eternity.” Joffrey insisted, fluttering his thick lashes seductively, “Please, I need you, Master.”

The man caved in at last. How could he reject his boy, his most precious treasure, his masterpiece?

They made love well into the night, until both of them were so exhausted that they could no longer lift a finger.

“I met someone today.” Joffrey whispered as he began to doze off, his tone relaxed as if he was talking about a stray animal he found in the streets, “A visitor.”

The man hummed, unimpressed as usual.

Joffrey rolled to his side and clung to his Master’s strong arm. He took a deep inhale, letting the man’s distinctive smell invade his nostrils.

“I wonder how long can he hold on?”

“We will see, Joffrey.” Master kissed Joffrey’s forehead, “We will see.”

[jikookuntold]

Since it got so long, I had to write the rest in part two.

Taekookers say the company couldn't pair taekook together before because of jikookers?! Are they for real?! Jikook is barely the third most popular ship in bangtan. The vast majority of shippers and nonshippers don't even like jikook, most of them hate seeing jikook together. Just look at the Twitter trends. The only time their trending surpassed 300k tweets, was after the black swan masterpiece. Meanwhile, taekook has reached 1M just for sitting next to each other and making paper carnations. Do we do the math here or just talk nonsense? Girl, Bighit knows it all, and they always wanted to pair taekook together, also jikookers still exist, nothing has changed.

The only reason they couldn't pair taekook together is Jungkook. He was the one refusing it the whole time. There was some insider information back in 2019 and 2020 saying that taekook can't get along and have the worst relationship in the group. Of course, bighit was not supposed to tell you about that. They have made this ot7 bond agenda for years, and they won’t let anyone ruin it. Don't get me wrong, they all have great but different personalities, and some duos get along better than others. So taekook had to pretend they are fine on camera, still, there were so many moments exposing their awkwardness. No, I'm not talking about stupid body language analysis, I'm talking about "you always ignore me so I didn't notice", "I miss the old days", "I think Jungkookie doesn't let Jimin come" and many other examples.

No, empty flirts and stage fanservice are part of their job, and it doesn't prove their closeness. Of course, they weren't like this before. They admitted that they were close in their debut years, but many different things including growing up separately, lead them to the point that they refused to work together as a unit no matter how much bighit insisted. Of course, Bighit didn't come up and say "yeah guys, we tried to pair taekook for this thing, but jk doesn't want it." What did they do instead? They planned that famous ITS moment. I also agree it wasn't 100% improvised, nothing on cam is 100% genuine, there are always scripts, but scripts have a point, and this script was to understand what was the issue between taekook, and with this act, they put jk in a situation where he couldn't say no anymore.

Taekook's mother's day Vlive in 2020 was so awkward that the company decided to take action, and they filmed ITS that month. But the first phase of the plan didn't work well, as jk said himself, there were still things unresolved between them, and jk reflected it in his behavior. The gimbap chefs Vlive with Jikook was only a few weeks after ITS, and jk emphasized how he had a great time doing that vlive, while after TK vlive he came to weverse to say he felt awkward, and no, it was a week BEFORE his Itaewon scandal. He had no reason to feel awkward unless it was his companion. I'm not hating any of them or their friendship, I'm saying this again, people have different personalities, and when two people don't get along it doesn't mean that one of them is a bad person. Their personalities just don't match. I'm sure they want the best for each other, but we need to accept and face the truth.

Wonder why bh was so eager to resolve TK issues and give taekookers what they want. Was it for something other than the money and the constant demand coming from taekookers?

🤷‍♀️

[butchwaifu]

Hello! Idk if this is gonna tank or not but I wanna give it a try; I made an arknights oc ask game! Feel free to reblog and use!

1) Are they a doctorsona? An operatorsona? Or just a regular oc?

2) What's their code name?

3) Do you have a picture/ref of them?

4) Do they partake in fights? As an observer or someone directly in battle?

5) What do they provide to the base of Rhodes Island?

6) Speaking of Rhodes Island, do they have any history with Reunion?

7) Do they even live on base? Temporarily or have they moved in permanently?

8) Do they have a class? An archetype/subclass?

9) Do they have oripathy? How noticeable is it? Any powers related to it?

10) What's their race?

11) Who's their favorite cook on the base?

12) Anyone they're friendly with? Why?

13) Antagonistic with? Why?

14) Rivals? Why?

15) Anyone you ship them with? Why?

16) Give a summary of their background.

17) Screw summaries; go insane.

18) Post a meme you have on your phone that summarizes them perfectly. No context.

19) Provide context, now.

20) What's their favorite food?

21) What would it take to promote them? A second time? How would they thank you?

22) How many stars are they worth?

23) If they had a skin what would be the theme? What would it look like?

24) What's a quote you'd unlock after gaining 50 trust?

25) 75 trust?

26) 100 trust?

27) 150 trust?

28) 200 trust?

29) What is their token?

30) What piece of furniture would be associated with them?

31) Are they apart of any premade teams? Or, do you have to make one up for them? Do they just work at Rhodes Island point blank?

32) How do they get along with their teammates?

33) What's their villain arc?

34) What's their hero arc?

35) Do they share their room with anyone?

36) Do they have a companion? A little guy? Some abomination? You know, a little pet-?

37) Where do they want to vacation?

38) What culture are they in love with?

39) If they could kill one person without any repercussions, would they?

40) Who would it be?

41) In what part of the story do you think they'd show up?

42) How would they influence the story?

43) Forgetting who they get and don't get along with, who do they kill it on with in missions?

44) Are they better at handling missions solo? In pairs? Groups?

45) What's their favorite kind of mission?

46) What are their strengths?

47) Weaknesses?

48) What are they looking to improve on?

49) Does anyone have a crush on them?

50) How old are they?

51) How do they pass time?

52) What are their hobbies?

53) What will they outright refuse to do to pass time or take up as a hobby? Why?

54) Are they good with kids?

55) Are they good with teens?

56) How are they with adults?

57) How do they treat their elderly?

58) Are they respectful? Disrespectful? Do they mean to come off that way?

59) Are they artistic? What's an artistic outlet of theirs?

60) In fact, what's an outlet of theirs in general?

61) Do they collect anything?

62) Can they cook?

63) Are they tech illiterate? Tech savvy? Got any stories about that?

64) Do they avoid the medbay/clinic?

65) What's the worst injury they've sustained? How has it affected them?

66) What does their initial profile say?

67) Clinical analysis (25 trust)?

68) Archive file 1 (50 trust)?

69) Archive file 2 (100 trust)?

70) Archive file 3 (150 trust)?

71) Archive file 4 (200 trust)?

72) Promotion record?

73) Do they keep a notebook on them? What's in it?

74) Do they have anything sentimental on their person?

75) Would do they admire? On base, off base?

76) Did they ever start off on the wrong foot with someone and are on good terms now? How and why?

77) What skills do they have? What happens when you level them up?

78) What's their favorite drink?

79) Do they frequent the bar? With anyone in particular?

80) If they could change classes or subclasses what would they change? If they had to?

81) What cheers them up?

82) What pisses them off?

83) Do they believe people with oripathy should be treated kindly? If not, why?

84) If they don't have oripathy, how would they react to becoming infected with it?

85) Are they any decent at paperwork? "I'd rather you just stick me with Doberman"?

86) In fact, did Doberman train them in any way?

87) How would they do in a basic training setting?

88) How many years of combat experience do they have? In Rhodes Island and out?

89) What are they striving for?

90) What would their tags be for a recruit?

91) Could you headhunt them?

92) How else could you obtain them?

93) Would you be thrilled to have them on your team lineup? Or would they just be there to rack up trust every mission?

94) What color pen do they use to fill out paperwork?

95) If you unlocked a story after enough trust gained and promotions what would it be about? Who would be in it? Where does it take place? Details, details.

96) Have they seen Noir Corne without his mask?

97) Who would voice them?

98) What is their stats (physical strength, mobility, physiological endurance, etc)?

99) Any noteworthy quotes you don't have to unlock?

100) What's their actual name?

[alynnl]

For the number'd asks, you also get 14 and 15! 👀 Also if Eisenbright isn't already done for the ship bingo, you know what to do. If it's already taken...Alfyn/Therion.

Wow, you just want little bit of everything!

The first scene that comes to mind where my characters have some levity is from A Reason to Fight. Specifically chapter 7.

“I made Erhardt swear a vow that he would not face us again as an enemy,” said Olberic. “Whether he upholds that, and what he does with his life is up to him now.”

“If he does give us any more trouble, we’ll just knock him into next week!” Alfyn exclaimed. He lifted the hand he had on Olberic’s shoulder and formed it into a fist, flexing his arm in an attempt to lighten the mood. “That oughta teach him a thing or two!”

Cyrus couldn’t help but be amused by Alfyn’s display of bravado, and managed a chuckle.

“I dare say. A quick slap on the wrist with my staff would’ve set him straight a long time ago,” the scholar said, with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “If we ever cross paths again, I have half the mind to give him the lecture of a lifetime to teach him some respect.”

When given the mental image of Cyrus sitting Erhardt down to a verbal lashing, Olberic couldn’t help but laugh at the idea.

“I’d be more than happy to step aside and let you do your worst, Professor,” the warrior said mirthfully. “Yours would be a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.”

Sorry, Erhardt but you kinda deserve Cyrus's lecture. And if I get to the Wellspring arc it'll happen! Haha

For another fluff moment, let's pull from Your Pain Shall be Eased.

“What makes you hold on to this sense of dread?” Cyrus wondered. “Your fight in Hornburg’s honor is over. Who or what else do you think you have to face?”

“That, I do not know. I only get the sense that I cannot rest on my laurels,” Olberic replied, shaking his head. “It is my duty to remain strong, so I can protect you and the others.”

“Oh, Olberic, that’s just like you, isn’t it?” said Cyrus. He reached up to caress his dear companion’s face, his fingers tracing across one of Olberic’s scars. “You’ve always been the one to safeguard us, but who will watch over you?”

“I never imagined I would need looking after,” Olberic answered him plainly.

“Even the mightiest warriors can’t stand completely on their own,” Cyrus said softly. “Please, let me take care of you.”

“You’ve certainly gone out of your way to check up on me tonight,” Olberic answered him. He enclosed Cyrus’s hand that rested upon his face with his own, and gave him a warm smile. “I could hardly refuse your counsel on this matter, or the kindness you’ve shown me.”

This is angst leading into fluff but. The mutual understanding! Olberic accepting Cyrus's help! My feelings!

Onto Eisenbright for the ship bingo!

OTP, I like it platonically, I'd die for them, relationship goals, aesthetically it's great, I love them! Have written/have read fic about it

Needless to say this ship means a lot to me. These two work in a platonic or romantic context. I just want to see them together! They're both level headed, mature and understanding. They compliment each other's abilities in the battlefield and share a lot in common because of Cyrus's interest in Hornburg and Olberic's lived experience. And did I mention the art for these two is on point? I adore them. Also they're the ship I have created/written for the most because they're just so natural to me.

Finally Alfion for the ship bingo!

I like it platonically, they're okay, I like it in theory, I'm open to it

I still see Alfyn and Therion as bros more than a romantic ship but I'm warming up to the idea of them as a pairing. They still have a nice moon and sun dynamic whether you ship them or not. My main focus isn't really on any other ship outside of Eisenbright but I can at least understand why Alfion is popular. It's alright. And in many contexts either very cute or super angsty so props to the fans for variety.

[multistoty]

what did you do? ( Abe to Hope, maybe? If you want! // cabbxges-and-kings )

There was romance in the unknown, but once a place had been discovered and cataloged and mapped, it was diminished, just another dusty fact in a book, sapped of mystery. So maybe it was better to leave a few spots on the map blank. To let the world keep a little of its magic, rather than forcing it to divulge every last secret. Maybe it was better, now and then, to wonder. To some it might’ve seemed callous, the way she boxed up her pain and set it aside. Yet, she had a heart the size of France, and the lucky few whom she loved with it were loved with every square inch—but its size made it dangerous, too. If she let it feel everything, she’d be wrecked. So she had to tame it, shush it, shut it up. Float the worst pains off to an island that was quickly filling with them, where she would go to live one day. Every person has the power to change their fate if they are brave enough to fight for what they desire more than anything. Not everyone gets a true ending. There are two types of endings because most people give up at the part of the story where things are the worst, where the situation feels hopeless. But that’s when hope is needed most. only those who persevere can find their true ending.

The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfectionsBut there's something about the darkness, the stillness of this hour, I think, that creates a language of its own. There's a strange kind of freedom in the dark; a terrifying vulnerability we allow ourselves at exactly the wrong moment, tricked by the darkness into thinking it will keep our secrets. Books are easily destroyed. But words will live as long as people can remember them. Words are such unpredictable creatures.No gun, no sword, no army or king will ever be more powerful than a sentence. Swords may cut and kill, but words will stab and stay, burying themselves in our bones to become corpses we carry into the future, all the time digging and failing to rip their skeletons from our flesh. And the pair of them are quotation marks, inverted and upside down, clinging to one another at the end of this life sentence. Trapped by lives they did not choose. The heiress's thoughts attempting to kill time as her pickpocket blue orbs trampled over his features and minutes.Killing time isn't as difficult as it sounds.You can shoot a hundred numbers through the chest and watch them bleed decimal points in the palm of your hand. You can rip the numbers off a clock and watch the hour hand tick tick tick its final tock just before you fall asleep. You can suffocate seconds just by holding your breath. And the Mikealson girl had been murdering minutes for hours and no one seems to mind.

And she had fallen for him growing up. So hard. She had hit the ground. Gone right through it. Never in her life had she felt this. Nothing like this. the auburn haired girl had felt shame and cowardice, weakness and strength. She'd known terror and indifference, self-hate and general disgust. Seen things that cannot be unseen.And yet she had known nothing like this terrible, horrible, paralyzing feeling. She had felt crippled. Desperate and out of control. Love is a heartless bastard. Arrogant. Overconfident. Vain. Impossible. She hated the way he refused to leave her alone, how he took her insults the same way other boys might take a compliment, and that his interest in her was clearly only part of his role. And yet she could never seem to push him away. This was why love was so dangerous. Love turn the whole world into a garden, so beguiling it was easy to forget that rose petals were as ephemeral as feelings, eventually they would wilt and die, leaving nothing but the thorns. He's never stared at her like this before. Sometimes he gazed at her as if he wanted to be her undoing, but just then it was as if he wanted her to undo him. What he had seen was unknown to her though she found scrunching the weather worn paper meant to be sent to the rebellions courier. Just because her Grandfather ,who was insanely abusive, had been a strong proponent for the British occupation of the colonies, did not make her a torrie. The cabbage farmer would need a decoder to fully understand what was written in the paper though she doubted that two am discussions in firelight while the house was silent could be easily explained away. A manicured eyebrow framed the ocean blue of her eyes as they settled further. Her usual sarcasm making its way across her features and slipping the breakable heart back behind the exoskeleton. The unruly organ beat like an animal against the cage of her chest. Her heart was still a little heavy, but she'd decided carrying it around would only maker her stronger. He smelled of magic and heartbreak, and something about the combination made her think that despite what he claimed, he wanted to be her hero.

"You gave me quite the fright, Abe. You'd think I would be standing over a body by the countenance of that lovely velvety voice of yours. As a dear friend, if you have an accusation, go ahead and make it. This is tough times for all of us. It is the measure of a man by what he does with the knowledge he has factual or not. I think highly enough of you to believe in your ability to see the world and people around you in the brightest of hues. Its already bad enough for you to see a lady in her dressing gown in the middle of the night. Especially when you know how soft their lips are."

@cabbxges-and-kings

[nightcoremoon]

Cheese Tier List

I am lactose intolerant and american but goddamn do I fuckin love cheese. I haven’t had a lot of different types but I’d like to think I know a fair decent amount of them.

American: F

Fuck American Cheese. You are not worthy of the moniker. You are oil and starch and filler and a splash of milk that only pretends to be cheese. You disgust me.

Asadero: C

It’s pretty good but nothing special to write home about. I do like it in shredded blends and they’re great for more latin inspired dishes… although tbh I can’t parse it alone. This ranking can certainly go up given further research.

Asiago: B

Very good, especially as a companion to parmesan. I’m not the biggest fan of it solo, but I appreciate what it brings to the plate.

Babybel: B

It’s got a very good texture to it that I think beats out the bland mundanity of the taste. The packaging is cute too. And the serving size is great for snacking. I’d rather eat their other varieties, typically white cheddar, but the OG is more than acceptable.

Bellavitano Merlot: S+

This is the most delicious cheese I have ever eaten in my life. It is also the one I can digest the least. I will eat a tiny block of this despite the horrible abdominal cramps that come with it because it is just that worth it. I especially love the way the grape flavor was paired; it’s not too much to overpower or be overpowered by the cheese. I love you Bellavitano. And I hate my local stores for not carrying this specific flavor. I haven’t had the others yet.

Blue: S

BLUE. MY LOVE, I’M SO SORRY I FORGOT ABOUT YOU! you smell like hell but you taste like heaven. you are the best thing to dip chicken wings into. I love you blue.

Brie: B

Very very rich. I’ll have it every once in a while and like it but I won’t eat it very regularly.

Camembert: C

Didn’t really stand out much to me but it wasn’t bad.

Cheddar: S

Probably the ultimate everyman cheese, and the one with the most potential. White, Sharp, Smoked, I love how adaptable it is. I don’t care much for mild but the more intense and flavorful kinds more than make up for it. Sharp cheddar is also very very good on apple pie.

Colby: D

Mediocre at best, boring at worst. It’s about the baseline for edibility for me. It’s ok if I encounter it but I wouldn’t go out of my way for it.

Colby Jack: C

Slightly better than Colby alone but not by that much.

Cottage: X

I am not a fan but it’s just that the texture bothers my palate. I refuse to give it a bad ranking just for that.

Cream: C

I wouldn’t eat it on its own, or as a condiment. But it’s a fantastic ingredient in other things.

Feta: A

Supremely underrated because Americans are always like EW GROSS ITS FROM A GOAT like shut the fuck up Karen goats are way less disgusting than cows, you’re just scared of a little word called FLAVOR. Now I maybe wouldn’t eat a block of it like I would an S rank but there is nothing else that goes as well with beef onion & pita.

Fondue: A

This doesn’t really count because any cheese can be fondue but all of the cheese I’ve encountered that is SPECIFICALLY “fondue cheese” has been great. It’s kind of cheating but melted cheese is a great thing to dip shit into.

Fontina: B

It’s not bad, but it’s not my favorite. Very light.

Gorgonzola: C

Pungent but doesn’t really have that much substance. Maybe I just had bad gorgonzola. That bumps it up from D.

Gouda: A+

I want so badly to give this an S but it’s just too rich to eat like it’s an apple. But it’s great for sandwiches with lighter meat.

Halloumi: A

It was surprisingly way better than I expected it to be. I would definitely get it again, and explore different ways to heat and eat.

Havarti: S

The lightest fluffiest and best pairing for darker meats bar fucking none. I’d absolutely snack on this all day because it’s light enough. I love you havarti. 😘

Mascarpone: A

Real good but better as an ingredient than by itself. And if you pronounce it “mar-ska-pwn” you’re WRONG.

Monterey Jack: C

It’s alright. Boring, but alright. I prefer cojack for the slightly increased flavor palette but I’d pick others first.

Mozzarella: SSS

Come on now. We all know this is the king of cheese. Melted on top of bread, paired with olive oil, garlic, basil, pesto, and anything tomato, HOLY SHIT PLEASE GET IN MY MOUTH. Or chicken, red onion, and barbecue sauce. Or fried potatoes and gravy. Even solo in string form it is just… the best. Perfect texture. Perfect flavor. And the best part is, I’ve only ever had shitty mozzarella. There is nowhere to go but up. I don’t even use cold mozzarella on sandwiches very much, but it has earned this ranking through blood sweat and tears.

Muenster: A+

Chef’s kiss. It’s mozzarella with a little bit of edge to it. I prefer it to mozz on sandwiches but that’s just about it.

Nacho: D

It’s serviceable on certain things in ways that most other cheese can’t but I couldn’t eat it alone. It’s… not good.

Parmesan: A

It’s special. There’s nothing else quite like it. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s just parmesan. I’m not quite ready to put mustard on it just yet, but I’ll definitely put it on all things even remotely Italian.

Pepper Jack: B

It makes jack cheese better but not by a high enough margin to rank it any higher. Also I’m not the biggest fan of pepper. But if I was, it would be incredibly appealing because the flavor profile suits it.

Provolone: D

I fucking hate provolone. It’s just so goddamn boring. I only eat it at Subway where that’s the only goddamn option and I haven’t eaten at Subway in like five years. I haven’t eaten Subway since Jared got arrested. Freak.

Ricotta: B

I don’t like it alone for the flavor, but it is one of the best ways to add volume to something like lasagna.

Swiss: A

I don’t think the flavor is all that good by itself, tbh. But it is a very mellow low-to-the-radar kind of cheese. It’s a good combination with other things. It’s like the mortar to the bricks that are recipes. It’s the best companion to ham bar none. I respect it more than I like it on its own.

Velveeta: F

FUCK YOU VELVEETA IS NOT ACTUALLY CHEESE. it is the vanilla extract of cheese because if you put s little bit of it into the recipe it can be good but if you want to eat it straight you are a freak so DNI.

…

RESULTS:

F (GARBAGE): American, Velveeta [2/29, 5%]

D (bad): Colby, Provolone, Nacho [3/29, 10%]

C (okay): Asadero, Camembert, Cojack, Cream, Gorgonzola, Monterey Jack [6/29, 20%]

B (good): Asiago, Babybel, Brie, Fontina, Pepper Jack, Ricotta [6/29, 20%]

A (amazing): Feta, Gouda, Halloumi, Mascarpone, Muenster, Parmesan, Swiss [7/9, 25%]

S (THE BEST): Bellavitano Merlot, Blue, Cheddar, Havarti, Mozzarella [5/29, 15%]

RANKING: WORST TO BEST

American, Velveeta, Nacho, Provolone, Colby, Cream, Cojack, Camembert, Gorgonzola, Asadero, Monterey Jack, Ricotta, Fontina, Brie, Pepper Jack, Babybel, Asiago, Mascarpone, Halloumi, Swiss, Feta, Parmesan, Gouda, Muenster, Blue Havarti, Cheddar, Bellavitano, Mozzarella

All REAL cheese is good cheese. Fuck Kraft Singles.

[odinspattern]

IDK what fandoms you're in so for the shipping bingo I'm just gonna say - dealer's choice? What's your "OTP"?

Oh man, this was so difficult! I’m in multiple fandoms and have so many ships and it took days to narrow down.

Merrill X Hawke

Man, this pair gives me life. I just. Look, Dragon Age II had some killer companions and romances. I do like all of the romances (the friend-romances, the rivalmances are gross as hell.) But like, Merrill was the first I romances properly, because Fenris, Isabela and Anders all have a mini-crisis as soon as you try to get serious with them! And while I respect that all of them are traumatized by their past relationships, as soon as someone says to back off… I do.

But Merrill is all-in from the start. I also think that both of them have interesting paralells, with both how shitty Marethari and Leandra are to them, the constant moving around due to templars, and the feeling of not having a place. Both of them are carving out a life in Kirkwall and they can do it together and urgh, the feels! Also the fandom refuses to see how capable and driven Merrill is, which is such a shame.

Stede Bonnet X Edward Teach (aka Gentlebeard)

Oh man. The calamity of these two. I honestly have never seen two characters like this before. Stede Bonnet especially has a special place in my heart, because when I see him, I see all what I fear are my worst qualities are reflected right back at me. His arc in season one is so satisfying to watch.

And Ed! He is such an interesting character, always seeming so effortless and in control, but also so bored of it all. I love how enamoured they both are, and yet how MUCH they misunderstand each other because of their trauma. It’s just so good, and I am feral about them!

Catra X Adora

Catra and Adora was always going to be endgame and the road to get there… oposite sides of the war, the way their trauma drove them from and back to each other.

One thing I will say, and luckily it is better now, fandom was really annoying. For a show focusing so much time in trauma and abuse and how it shapes you… fandom was really adamant about painting Adora’s trauma as insignificant, or debating if Catra ever deserved to get better.

Kyra X Kassandra

Man, this is a great pairing. Their chemistry is fire and have so much in common, and I love any of it, even if it is just a one time thing.

John the Hunger and Merle Hitower Highchurch

Look, you had non-romantic q-partner, and I will bring them up. Merle and John are something else, huh? It’s not that I haven’t read great fics where they are in an romantic relationship, but honestly, I rarely see anyone taking the time to really examine it properly. I also love how it was between them in canon, even the ending, no matter how bittersweet it was.