#so at the very least I’m prepared for that

[kingkatsuki]

Kaji finds you crying in an alley on one of his evening patrols, and it’s then that he realises just how hopeless he is when it comes to women— especially when he thinks they’re pretty.

Pairing: Kaji Ren x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, slight suggestive thoughts from Kaji, mostly comfort.

Word Count: 2k.

Kaji was not good in situations like these, averting his eyes as though he’d caught you doing something nefarious while he stood statuesque in place. He pauses his music to confirm that you’re actually crying, hearing the muted sobs tumble out from between your pretty lips with more clarity as Kaji tries to decide what to do next. He immediately regrets choosing this route for his scheduled Friday patrol, wondering why he hadn’t tried to take the path that didn’t fall under the only open izakaya in the area.

He’d expected to break up a bar fight tonight, or at the very least stop someone getting mugged. Or perhaps guide a drunken worker in the right direction home, like he’d done two weeks ago. But Kaji had not prepared himself for this— especially when he had no idea what to do in this situation. His pink sucker stills between the side of his gum and his teeth as he shoves both hands into his grey hoodie pocket— maybe he should text Kusumi or Enomoto, they’d be far better at this than him.

“Sorry,” You sniffled from your position on the ground, shifting your thighs slightly as you brought your knees up to your chest. Seemingly unbothered you were wearing a skirt as the fabric bunched around the tops of your thighs. And if Kaji was any less of a man he’d be able to get the perfect view of what colour panties you were wearing under it, “I’m not normally like this.”

Kaji frowned, cursing himself for having such depraved thoughts when you were in front of him crying. Despising the way his cock throbbed at the thought as he tried to think of something, anything more than what kind of panties you had on right now.

Why was he like this?

You didn’t seem to care as tears continued to spill down the sides of your face, your head poised towards the ground to try and hide yourself away as people continued walking down the rowdy street. Kaji couldn’t leave you like this— not when there were awful men out at night, and if they found you there’s absolutely no telling what they’d do.

And why the fuck were you alone?

“Can I call someone for you?” He shifted from foot to foot, standing awkwardly in front of you as you immediately looked up at him with pleading eyes, shaking your head no.

“Please, don’t—” Your friends had told you this would happen, and you should’ve listened, “There’s no one I wanna call right now.”

Then what the hell was he supposed to do? Kaji groaned internally, wondering if he’d at least be able to take you somewhere safe until you were ready to go home.

“I’ll be fine, really.” You managed to warble through a fresh hot stream of tears, but Kaji wasn’t so sure.

Shifting his sucker from one cheek to the other as the hard candy clinked against sharp canines, Kaji finally allowed himself to step forward. Thinking about leaning against the wall beside you before deciding against it, trying to appear as harmless as possible as he flopped down to the ground beside you. He spread his thighs in a feeble attempt to quell the throb of his chub beneath tight black skinny jeans as he rested his forearms on top of his knees.

He notices you visibly stiffen beside him, despite his attempts to appear as non-threatening as possible as he heaves a rough sigh. Tugging his silent headphones down around his neck he tries to think about what Hiragi would do in this situation, what he should say. Was it rude to call you dumb for being out in a dangerous part of town all by yourself this late? Probably, but he was right. Kaji decides on another question as he leans back against the cold brick wall.

“Why you cryin’?” It came out harsher than he’d intended, immediately noticing his mistake when you broke into a fresh sob beside him. A light hue of pink dusted against his cheeks at your reaction as he wished he had a tissue or something to offer you, deciding on the only thing left in his pockets as he shuffled to pull out a single strawberry chupa chups. Holding it out to you as he kept his eyes trained forward, lips smoothed into a firm line with his jaw locked.

He heard the pretty sound you made at his offering, a saccharine scoff that seemed to be more of an exhale as you reached out to take the lollipop from his outstretched hand. Your soft fingers grazed his as Kaji felt tiny sparks of electricity bloom upon contact, trying to ignore the heat that they raised against his skin as it shot through his veins like molten lava.

“Thanks,” You murmured, cradling the lollipop between your manicured fingers as you brought the side of your thumb up to your eyes to try and wipe away the pearly tears that clung to thick lashes and blurred your vision.

This is the closest he’s ever sat to a girl, Kaji thinks. The flowery scent of your perfume invades his nostrils and has him feeling lightheaded as he tries to ground himself against the cold brick. Glad he decided to sit down, as he’s certain any longer his legs might have given way.

“It’s stupid.” You murmur, sniffling as you begin to toy with the wrapper of the candy at the top of the stick. Pressing your nail beneath it as you twirled it between your smaller fingers, leaning your hands against bare thighs.

“Ain’t stupid if you’re cryin’ over it.” Kaji continues. Honestly, it probably is stupid— but he’s glad he’s managed to stop you being noisy for a moment at least. Even though the tears still continue to silently trickle down your cheeks, leaving messy lines of ruined make-up in their wake.

“My boyfriend just broke up with me,” You continued, “Or well, I just broke up with him— I don’t even know.”

Kaji groaned internally, he was right— it was stupid. It felt as though he’d started a ridiculous conversation with Umemiya that he couldn’t escape. Remembering the conversation he’d had with his leader a few weeks ago about a heartbreaking scene in one of his favourite K-dramas that had him sobbing for hours after.

“So what you doin’ out here?” He pressed, trying to push his apathy to the side. It was late and dark, and you were sitting out on the street like you had nowhere else to go.

Kaji didn’t have the first clue about love or romance, aside from the songs that would sometimes come up on shuffle or the shitty rom-coms that Sako used to make him watch.

“I dunno.” You shivered, and it was then Kaji noticed that you weren’t even wearing a jacket.

This was so annoying. He groaned internally for getting himself into this situation as he pulled his headphones off from around his neck, moving them to sit on either side of his knee for a moment as he reached out to tug his grey hoodie up and over his head. Tousling his hair with static as he pulled it off before handing it out towards you.

“What?” You turned your head towards him in surprise, “Oh, no— it’s okay. I can’t take that—”

“Just put it on,” Kaji growled, feeling the brisk evening air hit his bare arms as he leaned back against the wall. Giving him a slightly better angle to look at you without turning his head to the side.

“I don’t wanna ruin it,” You continued, shaking your head, “My make-up’s—”

“Just fuckin’ put it on.” He cut you off briskly with a harsh snap, shaking his head. He’d definitely had worse than a bit of spoiled makeup on his clothes, and he was positive that bloodstains were harder to remove than some lipstick or whatever it was Tsubaki-chan used.

That thought had Kaji’s thoughts wondering. He tried to think about what Tsubaki-chan wanted whenever he was sad, and his mind settled on something. Pulling out his phone to check the time as he saw Pothos should still be open for at least another thirty-five minutes— that should be long enough.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, moving to pull his hoodie up and over your head as Kaji took the opportunity to watch you again. You really were pretty, he wondered what could’ve happened to make a guy break up with you— because he was positive that if you were his girlfriend he wouldn’t want to let you go.

But women were more trouble than they’re worth— at least that’s what he’d overheard Seiryu say before. Moving his headphones back around the curve of his neck as Kaji sat beside you in silence, the rowdy bass of music from the nearby izakaya mingled with the chatter of its patrons the only sound with your muted sniffles.

Kaji was thankful you’d calmed down with little effort, but he wondered whether beating your ex-boyfriend to a pulp would’ve been easier.

“You shouldn’t cry over some guy.” He manages to force the words out, trying to provide his own kind of comfort.

“I didn't think he was just some guy, though,” You pouted gently, and it made Kaji’s eyes focus on the glittery gloss of your lips, “I really liked him.”

“Yeah, well clearly you deserve better.” He snapped, nose scrunched in irritation, “You’re too pretty to be cryin’ over some loser in an alleyway. Do you know how fuckin’ dangerous that is?”

Kaji caught himself after he’d said it, noticing his mistake as he willed the ground to swallow him whole. He’d just called you pretty—

He moved his lollipop back to the middle of his mouth, pressing the ball of candy against his tongue as he sucked hard. Trying to tame the frustration, anger and annoyance that burned inside him, reaching boiling point as he felt his heartbeat begin to lull.

“I know,” You mumbled sadly, “I should’ve just gone home, but I wasn’t ready to go just yet.”

“Okay, so don’t go home yet,” Kaji stretched his legs out in front of him to ease his muscles before he shifted to stand, moving a palm to brush off any dirt from his ass before he reached out to offer you the same hand, “You comin’ or what?”

You looked up at him through pretty lashes, and Kaji had to catch himself when your glistening eyes met his. Trying to ignore the incessant throb inside his chest as his heart rattled against its cage desperate to be set free as you reached out to take his hand. The same pulse of electricity ignited inside him as he wrapped his fingers around yours, using his grip to pull you up off the ground as you came to stand in front of him. Dangerously close to his face you gave him a shy, soft smile.

“Where we going?”

The feelings building inside him were only made worse when you moved to stand. From the way you were engulfed in his scent now to his oversized hoodie practically dwarfing your form as he tried to swallow the wetness from his sucker that puddled at the back of his throat.

“What? You got any better offers right now?” He snapped, before biting down on the lollipop inside his mouth. Crushing it beneath his teeth as he hated himself for how harsh he sounded, although you didn’t seem to mind.

“I guess not.” You laughed bitterly, a soft smile appearing on your face as Kaji tried to remember to breathe.

Kaji’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed thickly at the sight of you— You looked real pretty when you were smiling, even with dried makeup and tears caked against your cheeks. It made him want to be the one to make you smile like that again.

“You’ll see.” Kaji began to pull you through alleyways to try and avoid the rowdy crowds spilling out from the sole izakaya in the area on the busy Friday night as he made his way in the direction of Pothos.

Noticing that he was still holding your hand— and you hadn’t pulled away.

[rooksamoris]

Woke up, first thing I did was see your response to my request! I love it! You have done well in spreading the Jamil L/N agenda.

Here is my next request: a confession/proposal scenario.

Reader confesses, Jamil tries rejecting them but reader knows him too well and asks for the real reason. Cue his usual "you deserve better than a servant" & "I don't want to trap you in a life of servanthood". Reader, completely unfazed, just goes "then just marry into my family". Cue blushy Jamil cause he somehow got a confession and a proposal all at once. Before he can overthink Kalim just busts through the door going "YES! I'LL PAY FOR IT!" (he was eavesdropping).

💞 — in which jamil rejects you and then rethinks it.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort vibes, metaphor of burning skin on sand used

💞 — around 750 words. im obsessed with jamil taking his lover's last name to escape servitude. so sorry this took sooooo long!! im getting to requests and asks asap <3

“No.” You did not even get the chance to complete your confession before he suddenly hit you with a rejection. A cold rejection at that. You recoiled, pulling your offering with you, and your brows furrowed. “You didn’t even let me fin—” Jamil sighed, seeming exasperated with you, “It’s so obvious what you’re about to say,” he tells you, before turning around, his long dark hair following him and swaying. To be fair, you were quite obvious. He could see exactly what you were about to do. He had noticed the way you had been looking at him lately. If you were not talking to him, you were gazing at him longingly somewhere in the corner instead of paying attention to what Grim or Ace was saying. You made it even more obvious with how you showed up, bearing gifts in your hands and constantly touching up your appearance. If he were anyone else, he would have reassured you that you looked amazing instead of just rejecting you before you could say a word. Before he could walk away, you grabbed his wrist. Perhaps you were suddenly possessed with the confidence of the Red Queen, or maybe you were just stupid, but you did it and now had to deal with it, “At least tell me why,” you pleaded.

His heart broke a little when he heard the tremble of your voice. You bit the inside of your lip to keep anything else from escaping. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. Your fingers slipped away from his wrist and you averted your gaze in embarrassment. “I’d never have any time for you,” he said, simply, keeping his head turned away from you, “I’m very busy taking care of Kalim as is… it would be dhulm (cruel) to do that to you,” he added. That was the last thing he wanted to say. He knew this confession was coming for a while and prepared himself to reject you from the first time he felt your lingering gaze. What he wanted to say was that he wanted you to. Jamil would have used his bare hands to dig through layers of scalding desert sands for just a sip of what your love could have been like. He would have worn the burn scars like a trophy—a testament to his love and devotion. Instead, he said no. Before you could speak, he held a hand up to silence you, “I can’t give you the life that you want to live. You’d be bound to servitude for just being mine.” He loved the thought of that. Being able to call you his was a dream, and it would stay a dream. When his blood was spilled, it did not hold even a bit of value, and he could not bind you to him and make your blood as worthless as his. There would be no ceremonies when he died, no pretty tombstones, and few people who would care enough to attend. He did not have it in him to make that your fate as well. You stared at him in disbelief, your nose scrunching up slightly as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. It was a forceful tug, causing him to stumble forward a bit, and you took your chance, pressing your forehead to his. Those eyes of yours were piercing and determined. “Marry into my family. Take my last name, and Viper servitude would be a thing of the past.” His hands were suddenly torn out of the scalding sands which burned them. He stared at you in pure shock, a blush rising from his neck, to his ears and finally painting his pretty brown cheeks. His brows were knitted—the words dared not to spill out of his lips. “H–Huh… wait—you can’t be—” Before he could speak, Kalim barged in with a wide grin on his lips, throwing himself against you and Jamil and tugging you both close in a hug, “I’ll pay for it! It will be the most grand occasion! We’ll even dress up the camels—” As Kalim rambled, Jamil looked over at your pretty, smiling face. You were laughing at Kalim’s words and planning the occasion along with him, as if you would be married tomorrow and not years from now. His gaze softened, and when your eyes met his, you knew he accepted your confession. Finally, he could let someone mend the burns the sand left on his palms.

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XIX)

Chapter 19: Ascent

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

We only have two chapters left, including this one :(

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 5157

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew was never more aware that he was getting older.

The hangover that was stabbing his temples with daggers was the best reminder of all.

Details from the end of the night were fuzzy, at best. He wasn’t certain how he got home, but he had somehow managed to reach his bed. He was still wearing his shirt and pants from the wedding, his hair was a mess, but that was nothing compared to the fog that clogged his brain.

He made a stop by the kitchen first to drink some water, prepared some strong coffee. He splashed some cold water on his face to clear his head. Christ… he needed a shower. Maybe two.

He could recall a cab driver, some very loud music, jumping up and down with the beat, Sam and Daphne laughing, getting drunk on purpose…

… and then there was you lying in bed, fast asleep, him kissing your forehead in a chaste kiss, tucking you in, helping you through the mansion, finding you in the park, the fear of not knowing where you were, him singing that song to you even if the dance was meant for the married couple…

He could hear your voice ringing in his ears, echoing through his head, beating in his heart. Words that rang again and again. Words that he had dreamt of hearing.

He took a couple of deep breaths, and let the unkind voice in his head take over. You were drunk. You didn’t mean it. You said it yourself you didn’t want to be in a relationship, and especially not with him. You were scared, you didn’t want to take the risk, didn’t want to make the sacrifices that a long-distance relationship would require, not for him, at least, because he wasn’t worth it, he wasn’t enough and you didn’t love him, you were just drunk, you didn’t mean it…

He turned on his phone, checked the time. It was already 1pm.

Messages from his friends, from Sam and Daphne, one from his mom, a few from his label…

… and then 10 from you.

He swallowed thickly, but touched your name first anyway.

Hi! I hope you got home safely last night.

First, thank you for taking care of me. I was drunk… obviously

A true gentleman, as usual.

I’m so sorry you had to see that. I was hammered. I wasn’t myself and I said things I shouldn’t have.

Andrew had to stop reading. He took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, bracing for the rejection that was sure to come… again.

Still, he read on.

I know that I’ve fucked up, and that you don’t want to see me anymore. Which is perfectly understandable, and I completely respect your decision. I had no intention to contact you again. It was completely out of line for me to confess my feelings.

Andrew read that last sentence several times, before rushing to the next text.

I’m sorry about what happened. I know you don’t want to see me anymore, and again, I completely understand. I was an idiot and I’ve fucked up everything. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I won’t ask for it. At this point, I just hope that what I said last night didn’t make things even worse.

I know that you’ve probably moved on by now, and I’m not expecting anything from you. I don’t even expect an answer to these texts, and I will simply not contact you again if you choose not to answer. I guess that alcohol simply made me reveal things I would rather not have confessed. I trust you not to tell anyone about this, even if you don’t want to talk to me ever again.

I reckon that I should make it clear, although I expect that you don’t feel the same anymore, that I meant what I said last night. And I wish I hadn’t been so stupid, and told you how I felt while I still could.

His eyes ran through your words again and again, but they remained unchanged, no matter how many times he read them. He let out a long exhale, unable to believe what he was reading was true.

You couldn’t be meaning that… you couldn’t…

I’ll see you this afternoon at our cute couple’s get-together for post-wedding day, before they enjoy their well-deserved honeymoon. Don’t worry though, I won’t initiate a conversation, and will completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me ever again. Also, I’ll stay sober this time, just in case I do something stupid.

If I never hear from you again, know that I wish you the best. You deserve all the happiness in the world.

Andrew struggled to breathe for a moment. He dropped his phone on the counter next to him, buried his face in his hands.

What the fuck was going on?

Andrew hadn’t texted you back. He didn’t want to have this conversation with you over a phone. There were too many things to be told, too many things to be discussed.

He was a ball of nerves by the time three o’clock arrived and he stepped in his friends’ house. Some help was needed to make sure that the rented mansion was in good shape, to take care of the rest of the food and drinks, and obviously, to have another party to celebrate the newlyweds.

And you were there. Standing in the kitchen, making tea, your demeanour perfectly calm, as if you hadn’t dropped a bomb that had shattered his life in a million possibilities the night before…

“Andy!”

You turned to him at the sound of his name, he noticed the way your lips parted, before you looked away in a hurry…

The next second, he was engulfed in Sam’s strong embrace.

“How are you, Mr. Married-man?” Andrew joked, returning the tight hug.

“Ecstatic. Not realising what’s going on…”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“Daphne’s gone with her mother to deal with something… don’t remember what… but somebody has to go to the venue to check that everything is fine before we leave for good. Can you do that?”

“Sure, I’ll go.”

“You want some tea first?”

“No, no… I’m fine. I’ll deal with that.”

“Y/N can go with you, you might need help. The caterer left some food there apparently, even if they were supposed to deal with that and pack it up. Also, check that no one has broken anything, we were all quite drunk last night.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.”

Andrew looked at you, but you didn’t move towards him. You remained standing there, in the kitchen, the kettle in your hand. You looked almost afraid, definitely uncomfortable.

“You’re coming, Y/N?” he asked, making sure his voice was neutral but still soft. He didn’t want you to believe that he was angry.

You jumped, surprised that he would talk to you. Still, you nodded in a hurry, putting the kettle down.

“Yeah… yeah…”

You offered him a smile, and he reciprocated the gesture. You seemed appeased by it.

You both hurried outside, greeting some other friends who were coming and going, set on different errands. It was merry despite the grey sky and the threat of some new rain.

“I’ll drive,” Andrew said as you reached his car.

“My car is right over there, I’ll follow you.”

“No need, I’ll drop you here after we’re done. Come on.”

You remained staring at him for a moment, clearly trying to gauge his actions.

“I’m not angry,” he said, reading your mind too easily. “You can come in.”

Slowly, you nodded, and opened the car door.

It was silent as Andrew started to drive. An awkward kind of silence that Andrew tried to alleviate by turning on the radio. Van Morrison filled up the empty spaces of the car, while you tried to discreetly look at him, failing miserably. He wanted to laugh at you for being so obvious about it.

It was a short drive to the venue, but he couldn’t find anything to say to you. His throat was dry, he could feel his palms getting clammy at the mere thought of speaking to you. There was too much that needed to be said…

“Andy…” you finally broke the heavy silence, while he was waiting at a red light. “About last night…”

“Can we… can we not do that now?”

When he looked at you, you were clenching your jaw and looking away in a hurry.

“I’m not angry,” he repeated, his voice soft but neutral still.

He didn’t want to let himself get emotional now. There was too much to say and too little time before reaching the venue. Besides, he didn’t want to speak about this in his car, this wasn’t either the right place nor the right time.

“But we should talk about all this after we’re done with the venue and everything… like… when we’re alone and we have time to discuss things.”

“So… you… you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah… I reckon we should.”

“We don’t have to. I understand that you hate me, that you don’t want to have anything to do with me ever again. You don’t have to be this kind to me.”

Andrew couldn’t refrain a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. Christ, you were so wrong… about everything…

“I could never hate you, Y/N. I don’t have that in me.”

“I hurt you. A lot.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“You should hate me.”

But he slowly shook his head, eyes still fixed on the road, and he hoped you wouldn’t notice the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“That’s not how love works, Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything, but he could feel your stare upon him. He didn’t know what he could add, so he let the rest of the drive pass in a silent haze, his mind swarming with thoughts and feelings and trying to figure out what he wanted, what he should do, what was reasonable…

More than anything else, he thought about how nice it was to smell your perfume in his car again.

Andrew had taken care of the caterer and the food while you were going around the bedrooms to make sure nothing was wrong. He was looking for you to give you a hand, the mansion was rather large, and the keys needed to be returned after everything had been cleaned and put in order, or fees might be added. Andrew had offered to pay for everything, but Sam and Daphne had refused, and seemed offended by the idea, so the best Andrew could do now was to make sure they wouldn’t pay anything extra. A few other friends and family members were also helping out, and everything was ready.

He found you in one of the bedrooms. You were checking the room quickly, but everything seemed to be in order, except for something that seemed to have been forgotten on top of an old wooden wardrobe. Andrew looked at you for a few seconds as you went on your tiptoes to try and grab whatever object was up there, but you were too small. An amused smile was drawn to his lips when you huffed in annoyance.

You turned around in a jolt when you heard the floor creaking under his weight. He said nothing, stopped only when he was close to you, so close he would only have to bend to kiss you… And then he reached up, and grabbed the forgotten object.

You both exploded with laughter as Andrew revealed a green bra.

“Somebody had fun here last night,” Andrew laughed.

“They definitely got lucky!”

He handed it to you, but you shook your head.

“I’m not taking this, I have no clue who it belongs to!”

“I can’t walk out of here holding a bra!”

“Why not? Is it better if it’s me?”

“Y/N… They’ll think I had sex with someone!”

“And if I walk out with this they’ll think I had sex with someone…”

He rolled his eyes.

“What do we do, then?”

“Can’t you hide it in your jacket?”

“Can’t you?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, grabbing the piece of garment and stuffing it in the pocket of your vest.

“Alright, crisis averted for our famous diva.”

“A diva? Me?”

You both chuckled at that.

“No, not at all… I don’t know why I joked about that.”

“Because you’re mean.”

He was joking, but your face fell, and the next second you were taking a step back and clearing your throat. And the moment had passed.

“It was the last room. Everybody behaved, apparently.”

“Good… that’s grand… let’s go, then.”

But when he turned towards the door, you held onto his hand.

He lost himself in your eyes… in their shade that he saw at night still, despite the long weeks you had spent apart, and they looked begging now, soft and vulnerable.

“Can we… can we talk before you take me back to my car?”

Slowly, he nodded.

“We can go to my place.”

“Your place?”

“Or yours.”

“You’re sure?”

“We should be alone for this. Alone, and undisturbed.”

You nodded in agreement, letting go of his hand again. He hated the cold of the air that replaced your skin.

You walked out in silence, managed to discreetly get rid of the bra in a bin, stopped to chat with a few friends, but Andrew could hardly be patient anymore. He was careful not to be rude when he pulled you away from the conversation so you could walk back to his car. Still, when you looked at him before climbing in his car, you seemed to read right through him, through the mix of emotions in his hazel eyes, from the impatience to the fear.

“Let’s go to my place,” you said softly as Andrew turned on the engines.

He nodded in silence, struggling to regulate his breathing. There was so much hope and bitterness mingling in his heart now, being injected to his veins, preventing his lungs from functioning properly.

Why had you acted like you didn’t care if you loved him? Did you even love him? Really? Would you be ready to give him a chance? Had you dated anyone since that night?

The drive to your house was made in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. There was music playing on the radio, but Andrew couldn’t notice it. It started to rain at one point, heavy and cold droplets that made it harder to see the road.

Not a word as you both climbed out of his car and hurried to your door, fleeing the rain. It was cold as it dropped on his face, the contrast stark when you let him in your house that was so much warmer.

“Tea?” you merely asked, but didn’t wait for his answer to go prepare a kettle.

He remained frozen in your hallway. All of a sudden, that evening was playing over and over in his head. He looked at the doorknob, and thought about leaving. Just… running away. Never see you again. Then what?

He would spend the next months, or most probably years, trying to forget you, trying to move on. He would bury himself in work so he could numb the pain. Eventually, he’d find someone new, build a life for himself without you in it. He’d avoid you at gatherings with your common friends. He would sing the songs he had written about you, trying to forget that you were the muse behind every note played and every rime spoken. You would find someone else too, get married, build yourself a home and a family with another person joining you in bed every night. Not him. He would never kiss you again, never hold you again, never hear your laughter, never giggle at your snarky remarks, never make love to you ever again…

“Andy?”

He spun around, facing you.

The choice was his. He could still tell you that he never wanted to see you again. That you had hurt him too much and that he didn’t want the two of you to stay in touch.

Or he could walk into your kitchen and talk with you until he was certain about the nature of your feelings for him. And then he’d decide if you were worth putting his heart on the line again or not.

He could run away, or stay.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, voice gentle, head slightly tilted to the side.

He nodded, took a deep breath, and walked over to you.

“Yeah… just… lost in thought.”

You handed him a cup of tea. No sugar nor milk. Two teabags. He recognized the tag of his favourite brand.

“We should sit down,” you offered, voice hesitant, but he nodded, and you smiled as you took a seat in your living room, around your wooden table.

He sat across from you, silently measured the distance that separated you. You were resting your hands on the wooden surface, and he ached to reach out, hold your fingers tight.

You didn’t seem willing to start the conversation, and after a couple of minutes of both of you silently staring at your cups of tea, Andrew exhaled deeply through his nose, closed his eyes, and finally broke the heavy silence that had entered the room.

“So… last night… when you were drunk…”

“Hmm…”

“I reckon we should start from there.”

“Thank you again, for helping me.”

“There’s no need to thank me for that.”

“Sam said you were worried about me.”

He finally looked up at you, gaze getting caught in your stare, and he couldn’t look away after that. He struggled to swallow.

“Of course, I was worried. You were alone, no one knew where, and you didn’t have your phone with you.”

“But you hate me.”

“I’ve never said that.”

“After what happened, you should hate me.”

He heaved a sigh, shook his head, his shoulders bent under an invisible weight. The burden of loving you despite everything…

“I don’t hate you. I’m just… hurt.”

“It’s not exactly better.”

“No, I guess not… But it’s not aimed at you. It’s aimed at myself.”

You blinked a couple of times, a pained expression on your features.

“Yesterday… you said…”

You looked away, setting your gaze on your tea, on the steam that was rising from the porcelain, on the coloured liquid inside.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Because you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I know you didn’t want to hear me say that. Because you want me out of your life, and I understand why. Because I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Andrew clenched his jaw, struggled to keep his heartbeat regular.

“Did you mean it?”

You brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, still avoiding his stare.

“Y/N, look at me. Please, look at me.”

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, but then you complied, looked up at him.

“After everything that has happened, I just need the truth. I just need answers. Can you do that for me?”

“Okay…”

“Just answer me.”

You nodded, waiting for him to speak.

“Did you mean it?”

You blinked tears away, but slowly nodded still.

“When you said…”

His voice broke, he had to clear it to gather words on his tongue once more.

“When you said that you loved me… did you mean it?”

But you nodded again.

“I did mean it. I shouldn’t have said it, though…”

You fell silent when Andrew buried his face in his hands. He was struggling to breathe, struggling not to cry…

“I’m sorry, Andy… I’m so sorry…”

“Why the fuck did you reject me then?” he interrupted you, looking at you once more, his hands falling loudly on the table. “Why did you keep on pushing me away? On making me feel fucking miserable? If you loved me, why would you hurt me like that?”

“I didn’t mean to… I just….”

Your lips trembled, but you went on anyway, voice calm and a little cold.

“My life was a mess… still kind of is, to be fair. I had a new job, and then… then you kissed me that night at the bar and… old feelings came back. Feelings I had been very good at burying and forgetting. And I just… I didn’t want us to remain just friends, but… I was fucking terrified, Andy. I still am, to be honest. And so, I convinced myself that I could… have you while protecting my heart, which was the worst idea ever thought since the beginning of mankind, clearly…”

You heaved a tired sigh, rubbed your forehead as you tightly closed your eyes.

Andrew was remaining perfectly still, utterly quiet. Waiting for you to continue.

“I just thought… I thought that if we didn’t act like a couple, if we didn’t date, I would be able to control how I feel for you. I thought that it could be casual. And you accepted, and I thought… I thought that it meant that you were just attracted to me, and it helped me ignore my own feelings to believe that you just wanted sex.”

“I didn’t want you just for sex. I never did,” he interrupted you, and you stared at him with pain twisting your features.

“I’m sorry, Andy…”

“You said that it didn’t mean anything to you. You said that you didn’t have feelings for me, that… that you felt nothing when we were intimate. You said it was just about fucking…”

“I didn’t say any of that...”

“That’s how you behaved, though.”

“I didn’t say it was just about fucking…”

“You didn’t deny it.”

“It wasn’t about fucking. I always had feelings for you.”

He clenched his jaw, heaved a sigh.

“Why did you pretend it didn’t mean a thing then?”

“Because I was scared. And I didn’t feel ready to have a relationship with you.”

“Because I have to go on tours?”

“Yeah… not just that but… mostly, yes. Because you won’t be here. Dating you means signing up for a long-distance relationship, and I don’t know how to deal with that kind of situation.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“I understand that,” he mumbled.

“You’ll never be around… you’re always off to somewhere else. Our lives are so different…”

“But this is my home. It’s always gonna be my home. I’ll always come back.”

“How do you handle not seeing your partner for months?”

He let out a bitter chuckle.

“Badly,” he truthfully answered, and the two of you shared a sad smile.

“I was afraid to open up to you, to be vulnerable, to let myself feel this way… for you to disappear and break up with me because you’d have found someone better on the other side of the globe…”

“Y/N… I understand why my career can seem like a giant obstacle, because it is one. It’s… so fucking hard to not be with the person you love for months, and I’m so goddamn busy when touring that I can’t promise you that I’ll be able to give you the quality time that you deserve. It’s a nightmare to get our schedules to match, to plan everything out, and that’s without counting all the things that are added along the way that weren’t planned at the beginning of touring… And then there’s the press, and the writing, and the recording, and… and I understand, okay? I understand that you would reject me because of that. But Y/N… if you’re just afraid that I might fall for someone else because we’re apart for a few weeks… that is literally the least probable scenario that could ever happen.”

“Why would it be?”

“Because I’m in love with you,” he answered simply, earnestly, like it was the most obvious truth on earth. “Because I’ve been in love with you for years. And no one has ever replaced you, even when I thought you felt nothing for me, even when we both were dating other people. Trust me, you’re the only woman I want on this planet. The only one I really want.”

He watched as you took his words in, your lower lip trembling, blinking tears away.

“You should have told me,” he went on. “Instead of inventing this fucking arrangement, you should have just told me.”

“I know. But I wasn’t ready to try and be with you…”

“I would have waited. I would have waited for you.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It was fucked up, Y/N… you… it just… it was so painful to me,” Andrew admitted, trying not to let his voice shake too much. “I felt… I felt like you were just using me. I’ve never felt so terrible about myself… cause I… I was just enough for you to fuck me, and nothing more…”

“No, that wasn’t that at all...”

“That’s how it made me feel. Not all the time, of course. There were so many times when I felt… loved. When I felt like you felt more for me than simple physical attraction; most of the time it was the case. And that… it kind of messed with my brain, made me feel like you wanted more; but every time we were getting closer to an actual relationship, you rejected me. And you kept on doing it, over and over, and sometimes it was so fucking painful. Almost mean. And more than unloved, it made me feel… unlovable. Undesirable. And I know that you deserve better than what I can give you with my career, but…”

“Don’t say that. God, Andy don’t say that…”

You heaved a sigh, and Andrew was taken aback when you suddenly stood up, walked around the table and held him close. He didn’t think as he wrapped his arms around you too, though.

“I love you,” you whispered as you held him close, and felt his entire body relax at your words, tears rising back to his eyes. “God, Andrew… I love you so much. I was just scared. It was just bad timing. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I acted like the worst piece of shit, but you are everything but unlovable, okay? How could you think that?”

“Say it again,” he whispered into your neck, noticing the way goosebumps erupted across your skin under his breath. “Say it again.”

“I love you. I love you, Andy…”

Before you could say anything else, he was standing up as well, catching your lips with his in the process.

He heard the shock in your breath, but then your hands were in his hair, and you were pulling him closer, until you were leaning back against the table. His hands on your face to make sure you would stay close. And Christ… the relief of kissing you again, of feeling your lips move perfectly against his at long last, of tasting you once more…

You held him so tightly when you pulled away, arms wrapping around his neck while you rested your forehead against his shoulder.

“Are you dating anyone?” he asked, voice hoarser than usual.

“No…”

“Have you? Since we’ve stopped seeing each other?”

But you shook your head.

“No, nothing. You?”

“No one.”

“Really?”

“You broke my heart… it does take more than a few weeks to get over that,” he chuckled, but you didn’t laugh, merely holding him closer, so close he could barely breathe.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was so scared. I tried fooling myself into thinking I didn’t love you, but I do. I love you…”

“I’ll wait for you,” Andrew whispered into your hair. “If you’re not ready but you’d be willing to give me a chance, I would still wait for you…”

“I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckled.

“I don’t know about that. But I know that I love you, despite everything that happened. And besides… it wasn’t all bad. Most of it was good.”

“When I didn’t act like an arse, you mean?”

“Exactly.”

“I loved it so much, you know? Whenever I let myself get closer to you… whenever I let myself love you… Christ, I was so happy then…”

“I was too. Whenever you let me in, I was happy with you. We could still be happy together, if you give us a chance.”

“I was breaking my own heart every time, you know? Every time, Andy… It was so fucking hard… but I was so scared…”

He pulled away, took your hands in his. He stared at you with begging eyes.

“If you want to try this, long-distance is going to be hard. It’ll be rough. Real rough.”

“I know.”

“I can’t… I can’t go through this again, Y/N.”

“Me neither. It was awful for me too.”

“So… if we try this… we give it a real try: I take you on a proper date, and we don’t hold back.”

“Are you sure you still want me?”

“Yeah… yeah, I still want you. Do you want me?”

You answered by kissing him, slow and passionate, making him melt against you, wrap his arms around your frame.

“I’m all in for the date,” you whispered against his lips. “But… can we still go to my bedroom now?”

“Before the first date? What about giving me a proper wine-and-dine treatment before taking me to bed, huh?” he playfully answered, grinning into your lips, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute.

“I’ll give you wining and dining and everything in between for our first date, but I really want you, right now…”

You fell silent when he let his lips fall to your neck and his hands rise to your breasts.

Little words were exchanged while you left a trail of clothes on the path to your bedroom, staggering now and then as your lips remained sealed to his most of the way.

Except when you were lying on your bed, head against your pillows, looking up at Andrew with adoring eyes as he hovered over you, staring at you like you had hung up the stars and moon in the sky. While he was trembling at the feeling of your naked skin against his, you raised your hands to hold his face, your thumbs gently brushing his cheeks, and his heart stumbled against his ribcage under your tender touch.

“I love you,” you whispered in the softest voice he had ever heard, adoration oozing from your sweet tone. “I love you, Andy.”

He rested his forehead against yours, lowering his body onto yours to feel as much of your skin against his as he could.

“I love you, Y/N,” he murmured with the same devotion and worship in his deep voice. “I love you so fucking much…”

And when he kissed you again, there was no doubt in either of your minds that this was what love was supposed to feel like.

[tadpolejourney]

Most Welcome

Genres: BG3 Act 2, Gale x F!Tav, love triangle (Gale, Tav, Astarion) mostly angst and fluff, a small dose of sexy stuff (not smut though)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ for adult language and mild adult content, alcohol abuse

A/N: This is a companion piece to my Tav Liriel’s journal series, narrated in the third person. It takes place the night after Day 33, their first day in the Shadowlands and after Karlach got her engine upgrade. I’m using a headcanon that vampire spawn can feel the effects of alcohol when canonically they cannot. It’s heavy on dialogue and some of that is written as drunken speech. 5,388 words because like Gale I have a propensity towards verbosity...

“Let the Karlach cuddle party extravaganza commence!” Liriel announced to the whole camp as she hugged Karlach for what was probably the tenth time that day.

“Hells yes!” Karlach shouted, pumping her fist into the air a few times. “I want to hug everyone. And-- oh! SCRATCH! Come here, boy!”

The white, fluffy dog came bounding up to her, wagging his tail enthusiastically. He maintained a safe distance from the fiery tiefling, as he had been taught. His curiosity piqued, he tilted his head to one side.

“New rules, Scratch! I can pet you now! Look!” She grinned and reached out her hand to let him sniff it. Wasting no more time, she gave Scratch so many enthusiastic pets she ruffled every inch of the fur on his head.

“Aw, you’re so soft,” she commented. “Where’s the cub?” She looked around for the owlbear cub who normally ran alongside or after Scratch wherever he went.

She heard a soft chirping from behind her, and turned to see the cub looking at her with its huge yellow eyes, as if begging for head scritches.

She spent the next half hour petting, playing, and snuggling with Scratch and the owlbear cub.

“I have SO MUCH to do!” Karlach called out as she jogged over to rejoin the group. They were seated around the cook pot having dinner and the first glasses of wine for the evening.

“I hope a hearty dinner is on that list, because that’s what I prepared just for you,” Gale told her as he fixed a plate of one of the best meals they’d had since starting their journey. He’d prepared roasted turkey and grilled pork sausage, roasted pumpkin, and a buttered baked potato, all seasoned to perfection for the special occasion.

Gale handed her the plate and she immediately set it down on the ground to wrap the wizard in a great bear hug, lifting him off the ground. “Thank you. For the food, and for being my friend.”

“You’re very welcome! Please, put me down now, and then, eat. I insist.”

“There’s a berry tart for dessert that I made just for you, courtesy of the Last Light kitchen,” Wyll said to Karlach as she sat down and began gobbling the items on her plate.

“Wow!” she exclaimed through a mouthful of food. She swallowed thickly and said, “I think I forgot what that even tastes like. Don’t let me forget to hug you next for at least five minutes.”

Wyll laughed, then raised an eyebrow at her. “How about we make it… five hugs instead of five minutes of one hug?”

“Deal.”

Gale watched Karlach wolf down her dinner with genuine affection. He felt someone’s eyes on him as he did so, and looked around at the rest of his companions.

He met Liriel's gaze from across the campfire and she gave him the warmest smile. He smiled back in return, but a thought intruded on that lovely moment that made his heart ache. His mother would have loved Liriel. He would have been so proud to be with her, to take her home. So many places he would have liked to take her, so many people in his life he wanted her to meet.

He thought back to their conversation last night. How she had completely defied his expectations and held his hand. He had planned to tell her that he was in love with her, but things did not go as planned.

He asked her for a private audience in his tent this evening, and he was both eager and uneasy. After all, how dare he start anything when he knows what he must do? How could he knowingly break her heart in that manner? Or was it already too late? Would he be doomed to break her heart no matter what?

“WYLL!” Karlach’s voice boomed, jolting Gale out of his thoughts. “Time for hug number one. That berry tart was fucking incredible.”

Karlach gave Wyll her now signature elevating bear hug. Gale realized he didn’t want to make any of his newfound friends sad, or put any of them in danger because of the orb either. Then he felt an elbow gently jab his side.

“I would pay you a copper for your thoughts, but I don’t think I want to know given the look on your face,” Liriel remarked.

Gale sighed wistfully. “Was I that obvious?”

“To me? Yes. I think everyone else is too worried about who Karlach will try to hug next to pay attention to you. Are you ready to head to your tent for that private chat? Or do you need more time to brood?”

“Oh no, brooding will do me no good. A moment alone with you will do me a lot of good.”

She took him by the hand, rapidly entwining her fingers in his, and led him to the privacy of his tent.

Holding hands was still such a new sensation for the both of them that their hearts fluttered. Gale often felt he needed a reality check in moments with her, to ensure he had not actually died and this was not his final dream. Liriel often felt she dreamed Gale into life.

“About last night—” he started.

“I don’t want you to die, Gale,” she said earnestly.

“I know. Thank you for saying so.”

“There really is nothing I could do to change your mind, is there? No matter what I say or do, you want to die for Mystra.”

“That is an inaccurate portrait of the situation, Liriel. This is not about Mystra, or even myself for that matter. This is about saving everyone from the Absolute. Mystra has given us a way. It gives my inevitable and imminent death from the orb some meaning in the process. As of late I would never do such a thing for her alone, or any promise of her forgiveness.”

“Can you at least reconsider the idea that there may in fact be more than one solution to the problem of the Absolute? That perhaps there is a way that doesn’t involve sacrificing you, someone who doesn’t deserve to be sacrificed? That maybe we can do this, together, and all of us can live to tell the tale?”

“I can certainly reconsider once we know firsthand what we’re up against, but we must expect the worst. Believe me, there are things far worse than my death. The Absolute taking over the world is one of them.”

“Personally, I can’t think of a single thing worse than you dying, and I refuse to expect the worst. I will not accept you blowing yourself up as a necessary event, and you shouldn’t either. It’s bullshit. The gods are full of shit and only ever meddle when it benefits them directly. They make us do their dirty work. I don’t believe a damn word any of them say, ever. The evil gods break the rules all the time while the allegedly good gods do nothing to stop them and the neutral gods idle pointlessly.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You really are quite cynical about the gods, aren’t you? They are infinitely more complex than mere mortal moral notions of good, neutral, and evil.”

“If I am too cynical about them, you are too damn accommodating. If you actually die and I manage to survive your explosion, I will live out the remainder of my days in utter fucking anguish and despondency over losing you. You better take me with you.”

“Liriel, I truly wish to let the matter rest for now. I know you are upset, but we’re very nearly teetering off the edge of sense and civility, and I am in no condition to endure such a turn in our conversation.” His tone was equally exasperated and concerned.

She growled in frustration. In one swift motion, she grabbed his face and kissed him hard, heatedly, and passionately. Gale instantly and effortlessly returned her heat and her passion, locking her in an embrace. Her tongue entered his mouth and danced with his as she raked her fingers through his hair.

They were a tangle of feverish movement, moaning through each kiss as they ran their hands up and down and all over one another’s bodies, clawing and pawing desperately. As she pressed her body against his, he hissed and bucked his hips into her.

She let herself get swept up in the breathlessness of the moment, actively restraining herself from forming words, confessing her love for him. The ache and pull of that restraint was enough to bring an overwhelming torrent of emotion to the surface. She felt her eyes begin to burn and sting with tears as they continued to kiss and caress and grind their hips into one another.

Abruptly, she jerked herself away from the kiss and his embrace.

“Damnit!” she exclaimed, shutting her eyes tightly as though she could squeeze back the tears welling in her eyes.

“Damnitdamnitdamnit!” She turned and dashed away before he had time to process anything.

Outside Gale’s tent the cuddle party was winding down as the rest of the group were gathered together around the fire. Despite the dreary backdrop of the shadow-cursed lands, the mood was still joyful and jocular. Then they witnessed Liriel pass by them in a blur as she raced through camp and out of sight, audibly choking back sobs as she ran. Before anyone else had time to react, Astarion turned, deftly vaulted over the owlbear cub laying on the ground behind him, and sprinted after Liriel at top speed.

He caught up to her a few hundred yards out of earshot of camp. He grabbed her by one shoulder and she immediately tried to shrug him off without turning around. “Liriel!” he barked breathlessly, “It’s just me. Stop! Now, damn you!”

She slowed to a standstill, her breathing ragged. She turned to face him, and her countenance pained him in a way he was unsure he had ever felt before. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot and there were distinct tracks of tears running down her face. She looked... scared. He had never seen her frightened, not once. He could scarcely believe she was afraid of anything, even seeing her quite clearly afraid this very moment. Just what had that asshole wizard said to her? he wondered.

“Weren’t you the one earlier today that was adamant about anyone not going out alone in this shit?” he ranted as he gestured broadly at the unnatural darkness surrounding them. “And yet, here you are, like an imp out of the hells, mindlessly attempting to tear through this place by yourself as though you have a death wish. What the fuck happened?”

Instead of responding, she buried her face in her hands and cried.

“Look,” he said brusquely, “I’m not going to leave you alone out here for very long, but I can tell we are both going to need a lot alcohol for this conversation. Will you promise me that you will stay here until I get back unless you see or hear anything at all, and that if you do see or hear anything that isn’t me you’ll head straight back to camp? Nod if you can do that.”

She nodded without removing her hands from over her face.

Astarion stealthily and hastily made his way back to camp, purloining some whiskey for her and wine for himself from someone’s unattended pack. He mutely observed the rumblings of camp, counting heads to ensure the rest of their group was still there and that no one had attempted to follow.

As he finished counting, he heard Karlach bay reassuringly to the group, “Astarion will bring her back for sure. They’re real close, you know?” He smirked to himself as he slunk away.

When he returned to Liriel, she sat on the ground crying softly, her knees drawn up to her chest, her face resting on them. It was a side of her he’d never seen. She seemed so small, so vulnerable and childlike, and so different from the person he had known all this time. The sight of her like this made him feel… strange. Not good.

He prodded one of her knees with the whiskey bottle. “He’s not worth it, you know.”

She looked up at him and smiled feebly, taking the bottle from his hand. He sat down beside her and uncorked the bottle of wine. They sat together without speaking, both solemnly taking in large gulps of alcohol as though they were preparing for an amputation.

“I’m normally not this stupid when I like someone, you know,” she remarked after a while, cutting the sheer silence.

“I dearly hope so,” he replied. “I thought you were at least kind of smart before tonight. Now I’m not so sure.”

As she turned to face him in a display of feigned outrage, he grinned back at her slyly.

She took another drink, and her expression resumed its previous solemnity as she continued. “I want to be with him, but now he’s going to die, and it’s all such tragic bullshit. I tried to talk him out of using the orb, again. Foolish of me, really.” She took another huge swig of whiskey.

He gawked at her, not really listening to the stuff about Gale but rather genuinely fascinated with the way she gulped from the bottle without so much as a twinge. He thought that shit burned like fire and tasted even worse.

After another minute or so of silence Astarion asked, “What in the hells could he have said to someone as tough as you to make you actually cry, though?”

“Oh, it wasn’t because of what he said,” she replied. “He told me he had no choice, again, and our discussion went nowhere. That sucked, but he was gentle in the way he spoke to me about it. I tend to reserve my tears and shed them privately if I can, and none of that would have made me cry outright. It’s more the fact that in the heat of the moment I kissed him, hoping I would hate it or feel nothing, and I didn’t. It just confirmed what I already knew, and I couldn’t deal. So I ran.”

He grimaced, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t quite place. He shifted his legs as though it might assuage the discomfort he felt. It did not. “What do you mean, ‘what you already knew’?”

“That I’m in love with him.”

“Oh,” he replied, authentically startled. “Oh,” he repeated, but gravely.

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

“Well… yes, darling. Since you asked, yes, you’re fucked. But isn’t everything and everyone?”

She chuckled dryly, taking another huge swig of whiskey. She swayed lightly now, nearly brushing against him.

He realized he wished she would. They had never touched. Astarion felt his focus on the here and now drifting as the wine combined with the shock of the evening’s events. Her sudden, heartfelt confession. To him, but not about him. She kissed… Gale, of all people. He sensed his mood souring along with a feeling of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Asshole wizard, he thought again.

“Let’s talk about something else, shall we, darling?” Astarion asked, forcing a chipper tone through his voice though he felt pretty fucking far from chipper. “Something… happier, perhaps? What about… animals? You like animals, I like drinking the blood of animals…”

She laughed, a little too loud, and a little too joyously. She was definitely drunk. “Thanks for running out here after me, into this dangerous, dark ass wilderness. For keeping me company while I was a blubbering mess. And for bringing me whiskey to make it allll better.”

“Don’t mention it. Really, I mean that. I do not want my reputation ruined. I can't have people coming after me for heroic favors and expecting me to be nice to them.”

He eyed her as she took another large swig from the whiskey bottle. It was two-thirds gone already.

“I’m curious about somethin’, and I hope you’ll humor me since we’re alone and everything sucks,” she said. “I don’t know anything about vampires or vampire spawn, y’know. Do you poop?”

“Do I what?” he asked, obviously appalled and almost daring her to repeat the question, hoping she wouldn’t.

“I said… Do. You. Poop.”

“Do fuck off, darling.”

She let another hearty laugh. “Everyone poops, right?”

“I now hate this conversation so much I almost wish you would talk to me about Gale again. Almost.”

“So you’d... rather talk about poop than Gale?”

“Both topics are entirely too repulsive for me, I’m afraid. And I do think you’re positively drunk, my dear.”

“Yesh. I think so too. Gale’s not gross. He’s nice and verrrry loveleeeeee. I’ll punch you if you say that again.”

He frowned, knowing she wouldn’t notice it. Then he watched her take yet another substantial gulp of whiskey, and his eyes widened. “Are you really going to polish off that whole bottle?”

“Why not? I ain’t no quitter.”

“Ugh, a double negative, really? Your grammar is atrocious when you drink.”

“Doeshn’t matter if I make enough sense to seem deep. If you don’t like it, go to shleep,” she slurred, jostling his wine bottle as she pointed towards the general direction of camp.

“You are scarcely making sense, too. I won’t leave you alone out here, as much as I’d like to right now.”

“Maybe we should sing a.. a shong or somethin.”

“No, we should not. I think we should head back to camp before you lose consciousness entirely.”

“Wait... I gots busineshs…” She tilted the bottle up, her head following, as she dumped the remaining contents of the whiskey bottle into her mouth.

She threw the bottle aimlessly into the darkness, giggled after hearing it shatter, and slumped into Astarion, her head resting on his shoulder.

He sighed, pretending to be annoyed. “Hells. Can we go now?”

“I gueshs… we should go... back. ‘Fore some dark shadowy typa shit... eatsh ush or shomethin.”

Liriel stood, wobbling and tipping. Thoroughly reluctant to ask for Astarion’s help to walk back to camp through the dark, she staggered forward a few steps.

When she tripped over nothing at all and fell on her behind, she slurred, “I think I need an adult.”

“Honestly,” he huffed, attempting to seem put out by her drunkenness and miffed at having to abandon his bottle of wine. He set the bottle down with a dramatic flair to conceal the absolute glee he felt as he swept her up in his arms and carried her back to camp, bridal style.

Gale rushed to the edge of camp when he heard their footsteps, but stopped short at what he saw. He chastised himself again for not reacting fast enough and keeping her close. Feelings of intense jealousy surged within him at the sight of Liriel in Astarion’s arms as the vampire spawn confidently strolled into camp. Gale began assuming the worst. Karlach’s earlier remark was unnecessary, as Gale needed no reminder whatsoever that the two of them were so effortlessly close in a way that he envied and longed for with her. Then, as if meaning to pour veritable salt into his emotional wounds, the group began gushing about how fast Astarion ran after her, how he gracefully leapt over the owlbear cub like a dancer and sprinted off at an impressive speed into the danger of the dark to bring her back. Did they intend to mock him also with the gossip that followed about what the pair might be doing out there alone, and what they did when they left camp together yesterday?

He also knew, through a significant volume of observational evidence gathered over the weeks they’d traveled together, that Astarion was definitely in love with her too. Even if the undead elf refused to acknowledge or recognize it, and even if he wouldn’t use those exact words himself to describe how he felt about her. He also knew that Astarion was not the only competitor at camp vying for her heart. He had several romantic rivals.

Then the rush of thoughts halted as it dawned on him that she was utterly wasted, oblivious and babbling nonsensically as she lolled in Astarion’s grip. Though he was very evidently struggling with their inebriated leader, he acted confident, almost proud, in his movements as he carried her. The way Astarion glared at him, Gale knew that he knew. She told him at least something about what transpired in his tent.

Gale’s thoughts pivoted now as he regained perspective on the situation. She could have anyone she wanted, and yet she chose him. She kissed him. Then, in a tempest of strong emotions, she fled from his side, unable to face him while in tears over him. The intensity of the memory and the earlier glimpse of the depth of her feelings for him inspired a dizzying combination of elation, gratitude, shame, and regret.

She came back uninjured, and now she was drunk. Really, really drunk. Did Astarion really chase after her with a bottle in hand intending to carouse with her? Gale thought to himself.

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief upon Liriel’s return to camp. Karlach took her from Astarion’s arms into her own, and didn’t appear to struggle at all despite the half elf’s boozy wriggling.

Astarion made a great show to the rest of the group of seeming very inconvenienced by the whole affair as he huffed and took a bottle of wine out of Wyll’s hand. Wyll sighed defeatedly and trekked over to the camp chest to procure another for himself.

Sensing Karlach’s intentions as she turned away from the group, Liriel proceeded to beg in a drunken slur, “Mama K, don’ make me go bed. Jusht becaushe I’m too drunk to walk doeshn’t mean I can’t hang out. Wanna hang out…”

“Alright, alright,” Karlach conceded sweetly, turning back around. “But if you throw up or try to keep drinking, I’m putting you to bed.”

Liriel squealed in delight, slinging a free arm around the tiefling’s neck in an attempted hug.

Karlach set Liriel down between herself and Shadowheart around the fire. It didn’t take long for the cheerful mood to return to the group. Liriel’s usual effervescent charm did not elude her even in a drunken state. She was very silly, very relaxed, and absolutely smashed. At first the group was stunned, having never seen her drunk before, but that shock rapidly gave way to amusement.

“So, Liriel,” Shadowheart began with a telltale smirk, “What did you and Astarion do out there all alone in the darkness for so long? You seem much less upset than when you fled camp earlier.”

“Talkded, bout shtuff, personals,” Liriel drawled. “I was... sad. Then, I drank aaaaaaaalll the whiskey.” She gestured wildly as she dragged out the word ‘all’, nearly knocking Shadowheart’s goblet out of her hand in the process. “And now? I'm happeeeeee. Prolly not really though. Imma feel reallll bad tomorrow mornin.”

“She really did drink an entire bottle of whiskey,” Astarion happily chimed in, “It was honestly impressive how much she drank without dying or, worse, vomiting.”

“I haf a dyshfundshunal relashhionshhip with alkeyhol. I can haf none of it, or alllll of it. N it’sh realll bad when I have sadneshs.”

“Sadness can be a really great thing, you know,” Shadowheart commented with a dreamy look on her face. “It’s a sign of loss, which is glorious. It’s freeing. You should try embracing it.”

“Babygirl,” Liriel replied as she clapped a hand on Shadowheart’s shoulder and tried to look serious, “I luf you but dat’sh some bullllllllllllshhhhhhhhhhit.”

Lae’zel, Astarion, and Gale audibly stifled their laughter.

Keen to prevent any impending late night chaos, Karlach interjected, “Let’s talk about something else now, yeah? I’m sorry you were sad, Liriel. We can talk about it tomorrow, when you’re sober. If you want.”

“Mmk,” Liriel hummed. “Shorry bout the blasfuhmee, Shart. Hope I don’ offend you wif my dilsbelief.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I am thoroughly entertained by your stupidity,” Shadowheart replied bluntly as she pushed Liriel’s hand off her shoulder.

���Cool. Gimme dat,” Liriel darted for Gale’s wine bottle on the ground in front of him, splaying over Karlach’s lap to reach for it.

She got the rim of the bottle to her lips just as Karlach lifted her up with total ease and said, “Okay, that’s it. You’re done. Bedtime.”

Gale stood up to meet Liriel at her eye level. “May I have my bottle of wine back?” he asked her politely.

“Uh,” she stammered, “Ya.” She nearly dropped the bottle in an attempt to hand it to him, but he managed to get a grip on it.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

“Don’ you shmile at me like that Mishter Blizzard, or imma kishs you again. Thish time in front of errrrybody.” She attempted to wink at him, but it was so slow and awkward it made everyone laugh, including Gale.

“On that note, I think I will go to bed as well. Good night, everyone,” Gale announced, completely unable to suppress the huge grin on his face.

Liriel whined as Karlach whisked her away from Gale to her tent. She passed out on her bedroll for a few hours.

In the middle of the night, she found herself wide awake but still drunk. She opened the flap of her tent and peered out at the campsite, searching for signs of life. By her estimation everyone was fast asleep and dawn was still hours away.

She crawled over to Gale’s tent and pried it open. Slowly and silently, she crept up on the wizard, who was in deep sleep. She briefly watched him, appreciating his handsome features and the peaceful look on his face in the low light of the dimming campfire. Then her impulses took over, and she bent down to get incredibly close to his sleeping form.

As she grabbed one of his shoulders, she hissed, “BOO” in his ear.

Gale bolted upright, exclaiming, “Gods, what is—”

Then he noticed who it was that barged into his tent in the middle of the night, along with the amused expression on her face. Still in disbelief, he asked, “Liriel? What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you, alone. And I didn’t want to wait until morning. And earlier I was too upset. And then I was too drunk. Now I’m still drunk—I’m like, 56% drunk. But no longer tooooo drunk, y’know? And I’m not upset.”

He chuckled, shifting and motioning so that she would sit beside him. “Well, your sudden intrusion is always welcome, however jarring it was in the moment.”

“Hey, at least we know for sure he is sleeping.” She lightly grazed her finger over the skin on his chest where the orb resided and let it linger there. It began to glow a bright purple. She’d seen this before. She knew what it meant. He was turned on right now.

And the look on his face confirmed it. “Perhaps now is not the best time to rehash what happened earlier tonight, though. I have a feeling those hurt feelings we harbor could easily resurface.”

“You have hurt feelings too? You seemed so stoic. It frustrated me.”

“Of course this hurts me. I don’t want to break your heart in this way, and my own heart aches for you like never before. Knowing you feel the sorrow you do, it pains me. Greatly.”

“So what do we do now?”

“Now…” he paused to think on it a moment. “Now I think we should sleep, really. We need our rest and our strength, more than ever. There will be time to talk this through.”

She looked downcast, biting her lip.

He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. He waited for her instead.

“I just want to say one thing,” she said softly. “We’ve already defied incredible odds by managing to get this far. It’s not blind dumb luck that we’re still here either. It’s us. WE survived because of who WE are. We’re not only surviving, we’ve surpassed every challenge that this fucked up world has thrown at us. We keep winning. If there’s anything I believe in, it’s us. It’s you.”

He pulled her close in a movement so uncharacteristically strong and quick that it caught her slightly intoxicated senses off-guard. When she regained her bearings she held him tightly, bunching the clothes on his back between each of her fists.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Thank you for believing in me and giving me hope. I will not abandon that hope, or you, lightly. Please know that.”

She didn’t say anything. They clung to one another so firmly yet neither dared let go. After a while, Gale could detect her trembling slightly in his embrace, then he noticed she had dampened his clothing at the shoulder where her eyes rested. He pulled back a little to look at her face as she simultaneously worked to hide her face from his view, withdrawing and nearly turning away from him. He brought her back in a close embrace, preferring to keep her pressed against him since she seemed intent on refusing him a view of her face.

“Are you that determined to conceal your tears from me?” he gently asked her.

“Yes,” she sniffled. “I won’t run away again... just... please don’t look at me right now.”

He let her continue to cry on his shoulder, stroking her hair and her upper back, hoping he could bring her comfort in some small way.

“I’m sorry, Gale,” she said after a while, her voice calm but heavy with congestion. “I’m grateful to you for comforting me, but I also think it’s fucked up for me to ask this of you when you’re the one that’s been ordered to die.”

He chuckled softly. “I assure you, I am voluntarily comforting you and you needn’t apologize. If anyone should apologize, it’s me. I am sorry, to you, for failing to recognize the depth of your feelings for me sooner. For forcing you to pay for my past mistakes. I do wish things could be different, now more than ever.”

“I forgive you, Gale. You deserve to be forgiven. For all of it. And you deserve to live too.”

Now Gale was the one feeling tears well up in his eyes. With a sigh, he pulled Liriel back and held her at arm’s length by her shoulders so he could look her in the eyes.

“Thank you,” he told her sincerely. “For everything, not just your compassionate words in this moment. For being you. For pulling me out of that portal. For not turning me away when you found out just how badly I blundered. For trusting me with your life, and your heart. And, if I may be so frank, for the best damn kiss of my life.”

Her lips trembled slightly, but she managed a smile. “You’re very welcome. Most welcome, one might say.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and easily returned her smile at the memory of the moment they shared in the Weave.

A timid look crossed her face. Gale loved this very cute, very bashful side of her previously unseen by him.

“What is it?” he asked her. “Is there something you wish to ask of me?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “Can I sleep here? That’s probably an absurd idea, since it’s such a small space, and I really do mean cuddling and then sleep-sleep, no sexy stuff, but if you don’t want—”

He cut off her deluge of words with a soft, short, but sweet kiss, of a completely different sort from what they shared before. It was a gesture that was clearly loving and reassuring.

“You are most welcome to stay here with me tonight,” he told her after pulling away from the kiss.

He placed one arm around her and gently guided her to lie down on his bedroll beside him. She curled up against him, laid her head on his chest, and draped an arm across his waist.

“Good night, Gale,” she whispered.

“Good night, Liriel.”

Blissful sleep followed.

[sadaveniren]

Do you still think the alycia follow and like won't amount to another full bearding relationship?

Yupppp. I’ve been saying Elounor have been over since… at least August or so. Right after Glastonbury. So my take about Alycia or any other new beard has always taken the idea of Louis being “single” into account.

I actually have said that I think he’s leaning heavier into BG specifically because he won’t have a long term beard. Maybe he’ll randomly get linked with people in the tabloids (can’t stop that and it’s a drawback of being single and famous) but I think (and Louis and his team have said) that Louis is going to be going the full indie route which includes not talking about his personal life at all. To maintain his closet in that scenario, which I think he is going to want to do, having a son is much more effective than trying to maintain a long term beard. Especially because again, I don’t think he’s going to be doing stuff publicly with Freddie in the coming years. I think Louis is going to disappear when he’s not touring/doing promo, or his public sightings will be with his band/Oli/the lads.

Of course I could be wrong! But my thing is, if he still wanted a beard why get a new one? Elounor was insanely easy to maintain, and with Eleanor spending 2022 doing more independent stuff it proved she could be very separated from him and elounor fans were still completely satisfied. The hecticness of a new beard - especially going to someone who fandom knows was the other choice to Danielle - would be… hilarious honestly. But ultimately unnecessary especially considering what has been said by Louis and his team about Louis’ plans for his public life.

[chevelleneech]

Blocking every former and supposedly on the fence Buddie shipper who feels the need to tag Buddie on their posts where they claim to want Buddie to happen so badly or are in a dilemma about it going canon, because they’ve, “Seen the toxicity in the fandom and can’t take it anymore.”

Bullshit. They’re making up excuses to jump ship, when it’s really not necessary.

If you don’t want to ship Buddie, don’t ship them. It’s not against the law. It won’t get you excommunicated from the 911 fandom either, but it will make you look like a fool for acting like: 1) you didn’t know there were toxic fans in the fandom to begin with — as there are in all fandoms, or 2) there aren’t any toxic fans among the BuckTommy fandom.

You can’t claim to be tired of toxic Buddies for saying BT is bland or lack chemistry or LFJ is ugly or whatever else, when there are BT shippers saying the same exact things about Buddie and RG. Both sides have toxic fans, the only difference is that BT shippers currently have canon on their side, so those of you jumping ship are able to feel more validated in leaving.

Fans wanted Buck to be queer for nearly as long as the show has been out, and not once has anyone really shipped him with other people. Josh here and there, Connor occasionally, and that one prophet who wrote about him and Tommy. But majorly, it’s been Eddie. As such, toxic fans have been toxic when it came to any and every relationship either of them were in, so what makes Tommy any different? Did y’all really expect all the toxic fans to be happy with yet another love interest they weren’t looking forward to?

Not only that, but again, there are also toxic BT shippers, and fun fact! They didn’t pop up out of nowhere nor were they born out of defense of Buck and Tommy’s extremely new coupling.

I promise you, those same people were die hard Buddie shippers waiting with bated breath for Buck or Eddie to kiss each other or a man in general. They got it with Buck, so now they feel the need to belittle everything that came before in hopes that Tommy won’t be written out. They don’t care about character development or chemistry or Buck as an actual character either, proven by the many many posts across Tumblr, Twitter, and Tik Tok framing them as in love and smitten.

Claiming Eddie doesn’t mean anything to Buck. Claiming Tommy was a knight in shining armor. Claiming (and this is truly the fault of lazy writing and Tim and co trying to give themselves an out for under developing BT) Buck not talking about Tommy is a sign of happiness.

BT is sexual attraction first and foremost, and that’s all we know. Which is fine, I’ve said before, s8 will hopefully expand on them and their relationship if that’s the plan, but until then, there’s nothing there. Meaning there is nothing about the ship to defend the way some of their fans are doing, but somehow that’s more acceptable than Buddie fans defending Buddie? Sure.

Point is, if you’re jumping ship, go ahead. You don’t need to explain or more aptly worded, lie about why. Toxic fans exist on both sides. Most of you would just rather deal with the ones on the canon side of things, because it helps you feel better. Less embarrassed or anxious, maybe? I don’t know, because regardless of if Buddie ever goes canon, they’re not real, and there is no reason to feel anything if it turns out their shippers were wrong.

But I have to ask, what’s going to happen if BT does end? What will be the excuses for all the trash talking and belittlement of years worth of theories? What will y’all say to rectify putting one toxic group on a pedestal over the other? Because that’s what’s happening. BT shippers are being given full clearance to act like shit to people simply because their ship is canon, so what happens if that changes? What happens if Buddie does go canon? Where will all the high and mighty attitudes go?

[willowfey]

starting to think maybe waking up with an anxiety stomachache every single morning and then needing to spend the entire day trying to get rid of said anxiety just to maybe have a few minutes in the evening of feeling relaxed before going to bed is perhaps not normal

[emmaspolaroid]

what a long day

[ghostickle]

Love having to help hold everyone else’s lives together but the second I’m struggling and need help then I’m too needy and being a problem

[deityofhearts]

I’ve already mentioned this but literally every time someone finds out I can’t swim they immediately offer to teach me how to swim and that is very sweet but then I have to inform them that I have no desire to learn how to swim and then I almost always get asked “well what if there’s an emergency?” which I then have to very very seriously and genuinely inform them that if there is an emergency in which I am to swim for my life or die that I will simply die. I’ve lived long enough, if the universe is going to put me in a swim or die situation then so be it, farewell, I’ll see you in hell

[bobzora]

bro they got mariya ise (killua va) in persona 5 x voicing that green haired guy??

[charliesinfern0]

thinking (tm) about citrus………

[jewish-space-laser]

also not to be like, needy on the internet, but i’m having a hard night and i need to laugh so send me funny things. tik toks, jokes, i don’t care please please share and laugh with me

[liesyousoldme]

there were no hugs allowed :( literally “no hugs no props no poses” and the photo op was SO rushed it was kind of insane. you barely get the chance to say 2 words before boom picture and the next person is coming up for theirs. i overheard someone who met him last night say that it was way more chill. but the lines today were absolutely massive and he wasn’t listed as making an appearance on friday so i didn’t go yesterday but i’m sure lines were shorter. anyway i’m still really lucky to get to meet him (twice!) but i was a little sad about no hugs. although i guess our picture was a bit of a side hug. but my hands were shaking too bad so i held my hand like an inch above his back lmao anyway sorry for all of the posting i’m just very !!!!!!!!!!

[theriverdalereviewer]

PEOPLE OF TUMBLR… YA GIRL IS FINALLY AN EMPLOYED TEACHER!!!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

actual image of me looking through everything and anything about Lost Signals, desperately searching for Erin Yvette’s name so i can have some minor consolation knowing that Alex will, in fact, make an appearance in the game