#cricket writes cas

[petermorwood]

This Reply by @neil-gaiman reminded me of two things:

(1) How much I despised doing, and avoiding, compulsory Games / Sports / Gym / PE / PT / Whatever.

(2) That I never, ever have to do, or avoid, compulsory Whatever again in my life.

*****

I spent my whole school career avoiding them, and forged sick notes which helped that avoidance were the first really successful fiction-writing of my life.

I also learned that when acting the part of someone with a sprained ankle, a tiny stone in the appropriate shoe was a good reminder of which ankle to limp on, while an air of suffering bravely borne was always more convincing if that air was scented with a faint hint of the embrocation rubbed into one sock.

*****

Neil didn't mention the effects of time of year or weather, but both were frequent entries in My List Of Unpleasing Things About Games.

Leaving out PT / Gym / PE or whatever, which was indoors and - thanks to the solidity of the equipment - a weekly source of sprains, strains, bruises, mild concussion and deep loathing, my old school used to observe Ye Olde Academic terms and their associated sporting pleasures.

This says something about which I'm not quite sure, and I see it's replaced them with plain old Autumn-Spring-Summer Term, which says something else about which I'm even less sure.

*****

So there was Michaelmas Term (August to Christmas), and rugby.

A soggy school rugby pitch in Northern Ireland in November, halfway through the game with the pitch well churned up, the daylight fading, the rain turning to sleet and every other member of both teams still (a) Too Large and (b) Too Keen, was a reluctant 12-year-old's equivalent of Flanders Fields on the Western Front ca. 1916.

(No artillery or machine-guns, but (a) and (b) were quite enough.)

I was also a skinny reluctant 12-year-old - those who know me now can believe that or not as you please - and the icy breezes which whistled unimpeded up, across and down the legs of my too-baggy-now-but-he'll-grow-into-them shorts were at least one cause of a lifelong fondness for saunas, hot tubs and steam baths.

*****

Then there was Hilary Term (January to Easter) and field hockey.

That was when the School Armoury issued hockey sticks and sent us forth onto the Artificial Pitch, which wasn't as muddy as the grass-covered rugby one but could produce amazing scabby knees and elbows after a tumble at speed, either after the ball or more often away from the opposition's bloody-minded front row.

Being artificial, rainwater didn't soak in but just sat there in puddles, and sometimes in early term they froze hard enough that field hockey could become ice hockey in the space of a couple of strides, cue another tumble and more scabs. Oh yes, and my shorts were still too baggy, so icy breezes in unwanted places continued to be an ongoing delight.

*****

And then there was Trinity Term (post-Easter to July) and field athletics then cricket, AKA liveliness meets somnolence.

That was when the sky became increasingly blue, the birdies sang tweet-tweet, the sun shone more often, the air became noticeably warmer and anyone with sense enjoyed as much of the soon-to-be-summer days as worries about impending End-Of-Term exams allowed.

It was also a time for field athletics until Half-Term, featuring long-jumps, high-jumps and runs of various speed and duration.

We re-learned every year that it was possible to get a nasty sunburn even in a Northern Ireland May, that unless the groundskeeper raked the sand in the long-jump pit properly there would be at least one souvenir from a local cat, that sweat could break out with the least exertion because sunny and humid were frequently simultaneous, and that horseflies were always ready to sample new blood and the way they got that blood was a painful process.

It still is.

Bastards.

*****

After Half-Term it was cricket, which combined disinterested boredom and pointless intermittent activity at a nearly Zen level with me being very, very bad at it.

I was no good as a bowler, I could throw straight or I could throw hard, but throwing hard and straight at the same time was something I never seemed to master.

Oh dear.

I was no good as a batsman, I tended to step out and slosh so the ball went in all directions, including on a couple of occasions straight up and straight down again, though not high enough or for long enough to get any runs.

What a shame.

I was no good as a wicketkeeper because I was more butterfingered than a clumsy dairymaid, and what I didn't drop I would handle wrongly, like that time I made what would have been a perfect catch except I fumbled it and knocked the stumps down before, not after.

Oops.

My incompetence at everything up close was Really Quite Remarkable, so I was invariably sent out to one of the deep field positions where, unless something Silly happened, I could be safely ignored and - if the grass was long enough - I would be ignored whatever happened.

I read a lot of good books that way.

Not a single one was about sport.

#school sports #the delights of organised games #mud blood and Form II-B #rugby up the wrong way #he's dead gym #cricket done right is mostly chirping

[grandmother-goblin]

Field Study - Chapter 1

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: Grappling with changes that came along with his newfound freedom, Astarion unexpectedly catches feelings for a socially awkward, yet incredibly sweet, ranger from Neverwinter. Astarion doesn’t want to put a name to those feelings. Doesn’t want an attachment that could be ripped away at a moments notice. But damn, does Cas makes his conviction to remain unattached, to use her as a tool, seem impossible.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 4.5k

Chapter Tags: Mentions of past trauma, manipulation, alcohol use, vampire typical blood drinking.

Fear had a way of leaving scars on the mind like blows left bruises and cuts on the skin. No amount of wine could wash away his nightmare, but that did not stop Astarion from trying.

Crickets chirped into the crisp night air and the occasional frog croaked somewhere deep in the dense foliage bordering the nearby river. Even if running water once burned his skin like acid, Astarion hoped the sounds of the gentle river and creatures of the night would lull him back into some sense of calm. Those failing, however, he could at least count on the alcohol content of the shitty wine he swiped from the Druid’s grove. 

It was better than nothing. 

Astarion let the glass bottle dangle between his fingers as he leaned against the mossy base of an old tree. Between its sparse leaves, the light from the stars and moon dotted the grass beneath his feet with silver slivers. A beautiful night, under any other circumstance. 

As it was, between the nightmare and the novelty of sleeping in the woods, Astarion felt like someone or something was lurking in every shadow, waiting for the right moment to strike. Despite most of his companions sleeping meters away, and another patrolling the area on the lookout for such threats, Astarion had tucked a dagger into his belt before he snuck off alone.

In the days since they escaped the mind flayer ship, Astarion had volunteered to keep watch at night. Brain worm or not, Astarion still needed to hunt. Even if everyone in his vicinity was on the cusp of becoming monsters themselves, he still couldn’t trust them with the knowledge of his affliction. Most didn’t seem to suspect a thing. Even if they did, walking in sunlight kept that suspicion from turning into an accusation.

What would Cazador do to him when he learned Astarion could walk in the sun, and he couldn’t? Astarion took a swig of wine and grimaced. 

Cazador would probably just kill him. 

Being able to walk in the sun would be completely unacceptable to his master. No. His ex-master. Astarion let the wine linger on his tongue for a moment. 

Was Cazador still his master? Did he still have complete and utter control over him? The illithid tadpole had changed so many things. So many of the rules that all vampires had to abide by, no matter how powerful they became. Were Cazador’s commandments among them?

There was nothing stopping Astarion from finding out. The first rule was by far the easiest one to test. Thou shalt not drink from thinking creatures. Four such creatures laid in the bedrolls, helpless in their sleep, curled up by the campfire. The fifth… who knew where the hells Cas went. Supposedly, she was keeping watch, but Astarion had not seen a glimpse of her in the half an hour he’d been up. 

From the little he knew about Cas, she seemed to be the responsible sort. So either something terrible happened or she was just lurking nearby with her nose buried in that journal she always seems to be writing in. Cas had explained it was a field journal. Astarion saw a drawing of a leaf on one page so he assumed it was all nature related, but he did not care enough to confirm.

Closing his eyes, the sounds of nature served as a soothing background to the thoughts trampling through his mind. Would it be worth the risk? To try to bite one of his companions? No. He should just wait until… he had an opportunity that might never come. Something stirred in his stomach, a mixture of fear and anxiety that made him want to get up and do something. Clearly just ruminating on his problems only made them grow.

“Astarion?”

Astarion started, eyes flying open while his hand gripped the hand of the dagger that was tucked into his belt. Embarrassment flooded his face from his cheeks to the tips of his ears when his eyes landed on someone who was very much not a threat. At least, not at the moment.  He was so in his head that for a split second he thought it was Cazador. Not that Cazador sounded at all like that or would speak to him so gently. 

It was just Cas.

Although Cas wore the same leather and hides she did in battle, she clearly was not expecting a fight. For one, her brown hair fell a few inches past her shoulders instead of tied back in a ponytail and her beige coat made from some animal’s hide was tied around her narrow waist, leaving her upper half completely unarmored and vulnerable.

Cas crossed her bow-toned arms, her expression utterly unreadable except for the smallest hint of amusement on her lips. “This is the second time you’ve pulled a knife on me, Astarion,” she said, as if she was admonishing a child for staying up past bedtime. “Is there something we need to talk about? Anything you want to get off your chest?”

Astarion exhaled, tension flowing out of him with the breath. “Terribly sorry,” he said with an apologetic grin. “I wasn’t expecting to see your lovely face at this time of night. You never know what could be lurking in the shadows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, dismissing his second attempt on her life just as easily as she did the first time. “I didn’t mean to creep up on you.”

Astarion chuckled despite himself and pulled his hand from the hilt of his dagger. “Apology accepted, my dear.”

Cas adjusted her bow over her shoulder and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her eyes following the blinking fireflies that permeated the night sky. Silence fell between them and somewhere near the river a frog croaked over the chirping crickets like a crier over a crowd, but Cas seemed unbothered by the sudden lapse in conversation that Astarion found uncomfortable at best. Unfortunately, Cas could not hold a conversation nearly as well as she could hold a knife or a bow. 

Astarion sat up and cleared his throat. “Did you need something? Or are you just going to stand there like foliage?”

Brown eyes flickered to him. “You should be resting for tomorrow,” she said. “What are you doing up?” 

“I’ve gotten my rest for the evening,” Astarion lied easily. There was no way he was going to share his nightmare with her. Even though she did seem to be the trustworthy sort, Astarion did not want to involve her in his business if he didn’t have to. “Besides, I got a feeling you might need some help keeping watch. You’ve been doing a piss-poor job considering you’ve been missing for the last half an hour.” 

Cas rolled her eyes. “I was checking the fish traps, if you must know,” she said. “With the pemmican I made yesterday, we should have enough food to last a while if we don’t care for variety. But eating the same thing day after day can get tiresome.” 

“True,” Astarion said and tried not to think about the thousands upon thousands of rats and bugs Cazador forced upon him. 

For the first time in two hundred years, he could actually pick what he wanted to eat. The wilderness provided an endless array of entrees to choose from: deer, boars, bears, whatever he wanted really. Maybe, just maybe, even the wood elf standing right in front of him was fair game. Maybe when she turned in for the night, he could….

No. Even entertaining the thought could spell trouble, given the brain worms and their unpredictable tendency to link minds when he least expected it. The last thing he needed was to be chased out of the only group of people that might be able to help him. 

Yet, the thought persisted. Out of everyone in their rag-tag party, Cas seemed the least likely to murder him on the spot. Especially given how she so willingly accepted a Gith into their little group. Surely a vampire was not as bad as a Gith, right?

He needed to hunt. It had been almost a day since his last meal and, although he was used to being hungry, it was still something he’d rather avoid. Going out into the forest was another thing he’d rather avoid given his nightmare. Cazador could have lackeys lurking anywhere, ready to kill him or worse. Between the Gith and the famed Blade of Frontiers, they might think twice before tangling with his new companions. Even Cas, a backwoods ranger from Neverwinter, was a force to be reckoned with.

“Would you care for some company?” asked Cas as she shoved her hands in her pockets, trying much too hard to pretend she didn’t care about his answer.

Astarion raised his brows but gave her a flirtatious smile, inviting her to join him. “What kind of company are you offering, darling?”

“The quiet kind that won’t wake up the whole camp,” she said and settled into the grass next to him, close enough that he could feel her warmth. 

Personal space, he realized early on, was not something Cas was great at. When they had been at the Emerald Grove, Nettie had all but told Cas to stop breathing down her neck while she dug up notes on the tadpole from Archdruid Halsin. Astarion did not take the proximity personally. It was just how she was and, in that moment, he was fine with that. 

“A pity,” Astarion said with a wry grin. “We could always ask them to join us.”

Cas snorted softly and shook her head. “I would rather we didn’t, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Not fond of our companions, are you?”

She shrugged. “I like them when they aren’t talking to me like I’m an idiot.”

“Ah, so not at all then,” Astarion replied lightly. 

Cas did have a point. The Gith talked down to everyone, which was to be expected from her people and her way of life, but the others did not have such a strong excuse. While Gale was polite, he tended to talk to Cas as if she were a child. Shadowheart also acted like Cas was burdened with some inexplicable naïveté about how the world worked. Lucky for him, their companions had set the bar for common decency so low Astarion tiptoed over it without even noticing.

Well, he and Wyll. But Wyll seemed far too focused on finding a devil called Karlach to pay Cas much mind. 

Clearly not wanting to gossip too much about their companions, Cas changed the subject and they fell into easy conversation. Oddly enough, chatting with Cas felt almost natural. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t some unlucky soul he was seducing to bring back to Cazador. Or one of his siblings who would have pounced on the opportunity to stab him in the back. Not that Astarion could trust Cas, but she was pleasant enough that he could at least try to enjoy himself.

For a few precious moments, Astarion even forgot about his nightmare. But it crept back all too soon, like little tendrils of smoke that grew until it completely clouded his mind. 

It wasn’t like Cazador could let him have anything nice. Not even a moment. 

Cas seemed like the type that would have delighted Cazador. Exactly the type Astarion would have targeted whilst prowling the taverns and inns of Baldur’s Gate to bring back for him. Attractive, young, and stupidly trusting. It would have been all too easy to lure Cas back to the palace. Just some wine and a few kisses, he would touch her just right and make her want more, then he would walk her through doors that she would never walk out of again.

Cazador would get a lovely meal and Astarion would be left with nothing but hollow numbness.

But it didn’t have to be that way anymore, did it?

Regret started gnawing at the back of his mind as Astarion noticed a vein on her wrist. He never should have asked for her to stay. Not a slight on her company, of course. He was just too hungry to think straight. 

Were she not the most valuable ally he had in recent memory, he’d have half a mind to pin her down and sink his fangs into her skin. Maybe she would fight him, maybe she would submit. He had never bitten someone smart enough to truly fight back, so he had no idea what to expect.

Astarion swallowed and stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. Just not at her. Not at the lovely veins on her wrists and necks. Trying to focus on only the sounds of crickets contested against the metronome of her pulse. 

He should really leave before he did something stupid. If he even could do something stupid with Cazador’s commandments still ringing in his ears. If he tried to take a bite, could he—

“I’ve been thinking a bit about the other night.” Cas brought her knees up to her chest, snapping him from his thoughts. “When you said you didn’t want me to run off when all of this is over.”

“What about it?” He had forgotten that entire conversation until she mentioned it. It was adorable that she remembered.

“What would you want to do?”

“You know, I hadn’t thought that far.” He hadn’t thought about it at all, truthfully. “Like I said before, you’re an incredible ally. It would be a shame just to go on our merry way once the brain bug is gone. But when it comes to what to do—” Astarion gave her a suggestive smile and lowered his voice “—I can think of a few things.”

Cas rolled her eyes as if she were painfully aware of his attempt to steer the conversation in another direction. “Don’t you have loved ones back in the city? A life you want to get back to?”

“Not one I want to return to, no,” Astarion replied and averted his eyes to the forgotten bottle of wine dangling between his fingers. Though the mind flayers inadvertently allowed him to flirt with freedom, at the end of the day he was still bound to Cazador. The last two hundred years had been focused around that bastard up until a couple days ago. The mere thought of returning was enough to make his throat feel tight. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

“I wasn’t going to pry,” said Cas as she bumped his shoulder good-naturedly. “Put that face away before you wear it out.”

His brows drew together. “What face?”

“The one with sad puppy eyes.” 

“I don’t make ‘puppy eyes,’” Astarion rebuffed, only slightly offended by the accusation. Not that he had seen his eyes in two hundred years, but vampires were better known for piercing, blood-chilling, glares than sweet ‘puppy eyes’. Astarion scoffed at the sheer audacity of the statement. 

“You do too,” she said with a soft giggle. “Even though they’re red like a vampire’s, they’re surprisingly effective.”

His stomach sank. Surely she didn’t mean anything by the comparison, right? No need for the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, though they did anyway.

Astarion forced a smile as he passed her the bottle of wine. “That’s an oddly specific description, darling.”

“If the shoe fits.” Cas smiled back and tapped her dainty white canine teeth to emphasize that his eyes were not the only things she noticed. “I think they’re very pretty, by the way. I didn’t mean any offense.”

“None taken.” Astarion idly tore at the blades of grass beside him and tried to quiet his nerves. “Hypothetically speaking, what would you do if I was a vampire?”

“You specifically?”

“Humor me.”

Cas stretched her long legs out in front of her and leaned back on her palms, chewing her lip as she took her dear sweet time mulling over her answer. Several long seconds passed. That croning frog started up again, and Astarion briefly considered adding the nuisance to the menu that evening.

“Nothing,” she said finally and took a swig directly from the bottle. “Why would I do anything?”

“Really?” He turned to face her, his eyes wide (and definitely not ‘puppyish’). “You’re confronted with a monster who wants nothing more than to drink your blood, and you wouldn’t want to ram a stake through my heart?”

“Well, I’m assuming you’re not trying to murder me,” she said. “Obviously I would defend myself if you were. But if you’re not trying to murder me, and you happened to be a vampire, why would I do anything at all? It’s not like our situation has changed.”

“Except it has, sweetheart.” Astarion wrapped his fingers lightly around her wrist, his thumb brushing over her pulse, feeling it beat against his skin. “Because if I were a vampire, I would need a source of blood to stay strong.”

Cas looked down at where his ivory skin practically glowed against her rich copper flesh but made no move to pull away. “Plenty of bandits and animals out there,” she said, her voice nonchalant even as he heard her heartbeat quicken. “You’d be doing us a favor.”

“But what if I wanted something a little closer to camp?” Astarion traced his thumb over the dark blue veins of her inner wrist. Her pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out the noises of the night. His mouth almost watered just from the gentle throb of her pulse beneath his fingers. 

“I’m not sure how accepting our companions would be,” Cas said, talking as if they are merely picking a spot to have dinner with no regard to what was on the menu.

“And what about you?”

Deep brown eyes locked onto his, both curious and maybe a little hesitant. “Is this still hypothetical or is this a confession?”

“A confession, darling,” he said with a breath of laughter, like she should have known the conversation was never hypothetical to begin with. “What do you say? It won’t hurt, I promise.” His eyes dropped to her slender neck. “Please.”

Her chest rose with a deep and steady breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. “I’m not worried about it hurting.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s risky,” she said. “And I’m not too keen on dying, either by turning into a vampire or by exsanguination. Or having to fight you off of me. I know my limits and you’ll probably win if it comes to that.”

“I’m merely a spawn, so I can’t turn you. As for your other concerns—” he brushed a loose strand of hair away from her neck, eyeing a dark vein crawling towards her pointed ear “— I’ll be careful. If I go too far, I’m sure you’ll figure out something.”

A flicker of a memory passed through his mind accompanied by a needle like prick to his brain as the worm connected their thoughts. For an instant, he saw through Cas’s eyes: a warm, wooden, candlelit washroom with a porcelain wash basin below a rustic mirror framed with tree branches. A handsome male wood elf stooped over the basin. With a blood soaked towel pressed against his neck, his expression was utterly calm in the mirror as he said something muffled by the memory. Astarion couldn’t be sure, but he swore he heard the word ‘mistake’ in the elven tongue. When he dunked the towel into the basin, four deep puncture wounds marred the side of his neck and dragged towards the front of his throat. Blood trickled down the basin and so did the memory, fading into anger, fear, and a strange sense of admiration.

Astarion blinked away the vision and his eyes fell to her neck. To the same spot where the wood elf from memory was bitten. Just below the jawline. 

If the worm showed any of his memories to Cas in return, she did not acknowledge it. Maybe, in some cases, the connection could be one sided. There was still so much they didn’t know about the beasts nestled in their heads, but it had only helped them so far. Astarion in particular. It wanted him alive, and it wanted him to see that particular memory. Astarion did not know what it meant, nor did he think it was a good time to ask. Not when he felt so close to something so forbidden.

“I think if you want to have your fangs at my throat,” Cas began slowly and produced a dagger from a holster latched around her thigh, “then it’s only fair I can hold this to yours. For insurance.”

Astarion eyed the white metal blade he had seen cut through goblins like butter. “That won’t be necessary, my dear,” he said with a forced smile that he hoped was reassuring. “I’m not some monster. I won’t go too far, I promise.”

“Then we shouldn’t have a problem,” she said. “Up to you.”

Astarion gave an exasperated sigh. It was too good of an opportunity and he would have been a fool to pass it up. “Fine,” he said as if she suggested he wash dishes or some other mundane chore. “Come here. Let’s make ourselves comfortable.”

After a short, albeit awkward, conversation, they figured that it would be easiest for Cas to sit on his lap facing him. With her knees dug into the earth on either side of his hips and the side of her face pressed against his cheek, any onlooker would think they were a couple of lovers having a midnight rendezvous.

Though her dagger did not touch his skin, he could feel its presence like a pair of eyes watching from the darkness. Astarion wrapped one arm around her waist and brought his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her hair aside like a silken curtain. He dipped his head and the tip of his nose traced the column of her neck as he inhaled her scents. The salt of her skin mixed with campfire smoke caught in her leathers barely masked the rich aroma of her blood. Saliva pooled in his mouth in anticipation of the decadence beneath her skin.

“Remember, not too much,” she cautioned, her voice low. “I don’t want to be woozy tomorrow.”

He did not dare to move. Not when he was so close. “You can trust me, darling,” he said, his lips hot against her neck as if the ghost of a kiss would soothe her. 

His heart raced and a chill crept up his spine. What if he couldn’t do it? What if Cazador’s commandments still had a hold over him? He opened his mouth and let the tips of his fangs graze her delicate skin. 

Only one way to find out.

Muscles tightened beneath his fingers and Cas gasped in his ear. Blood, the most amazing blood he had ever tasted, filled his mouth and trickled down his throat. 

Warmth blossomed through him, starting at his stomach and reaching his fingertips. His arms wrapped around her small frame tighter, holding onto her like a moment about to fade away. The blood was decadent. Savory. Like the most perfectly cooked steak in the fanciest restaurant in town or a vintage wine a lord would serve his guests on a special occasion. In comparison, an animal’s blood was like boiled rice and watered down beer. No wonder Cazador forbade it: it was just another way to deprive his slaves of any semblance of joy the world had to offer.

Gods. It was wonderful. Incredible, even. The blood still flowed from his bite mark on her neck, but he already found himself wanting to sink his fangs into her again. And again. And again.

“Astarion.” He felt the vibrations of her voice when she spoke, quiet yet commanding. “That’s enough.”

He wanted to pretend he didn’t hear her, but the cold metal against his neck quickly changed his mind. He dragged his tongue across the fresh wound, lapping up the blood with the efficiency of a cat before he withdrew from her. 

“That was amazing,” he marveled as he licked the last of the blood from his lips.

Cas stumbled off of him, legs shaking and face pale as she sank into the grass beside him. She pulled her bag into her lap, retrieved a clean rag and pressed it against her neck. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, and it almost looked like she was going to be sick, which would have completely spoiled the moment.

After a few seconds, Cas asked him to open the water bottle that was in her bag since both of her hands were currently occupied. One kept her from slumping into the grass while the other was red with blood that seeped through the rag.

She splashed a fresh towel with the water and wiped at her neck. “Water can’t take the place of a healing salve, but at least it can wash away some of the anticoagulant in your saliva.” She tried to laugh but it came out more of a pant. “As if nature didn’t make vampires deadly enough.” 

Astarion must have made a face because a weak smile tugged at her lips. ‘Anticoagulant’ was not the most appealing word to hear after the best meal of his life. However, it seemed she knew what she was talking about. The first rag, once a beige color, had already turned a deep red. However, Astarion was too caught up in the exhilaration of drinking the blood of his first thinking creature to dwell much on it. 

Exsanguination be damned, he could not remember the last time he felt so strong. So happy.

Cas scooted back until she could lean against the tree. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as she closed her eyes. 

Something stirred within him, deep and primal, and he found himself leaning over her. The scent of her blood was still so strong, captured in that rag she pressed to her neck. Before he could get any closer, he felt a firm push against his chest.

“Don’t you dare,” Cas said, but without any malice behind her words. Like a playful warning, knowing what he wanted to do yet believing he would not actually do it. 

Oh how wrong she was.

Lucky for her, she still had her uses.

Astarion put some distance between them despite his every instinct urging him to keep feeding. He cleared his throat. “As delicious as you are darling, I should probably find something more filling,” he said. Then, just to be polite towards his most gracious donor, he added, “Do you need anything before I set off?”

Cas shook her head. She pulled the towel away and dabbed at her neck with two fingers, winced, and replaced the rag. “I’ll feel better once I eat,” she said and began to shift through her bag with her free hand. “You probably will too. Happy hunting, Astarion.”

For some reason, the words made him feel warm inside. Or maybe it was just the blood. In any case, he found himself smiling at her. “This was a gift, you know. I won’t forget it,” he said and stalked off into the forest, his nightmare long behind him.

---

Next Chapter

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #field study bg3 fanfic #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[drsilverfish]

The Akrida as the Eighth Plague?

If the Akrida are a reference to the eighth Biblical plague in Exodus, the plague of locusts, what does that suggest?

The plagues were sent by God to show his power. Is that Chuck-the-Author, or Dean-the-Author? Chuck makes sense, as it’s implied in SPN that he wrote the Old Testament (or at least dictated it, with Metatron as his sycophantic scribe) as well as, of course, writing The Winchester Gospels, so, plagues are his thing.

Chuck is still around, in the past Dean is telling us about, trying to get John and Mary together behind the scenes, to give birth to Sam and Dean, at this point in the time-line (having of course, seemingly abandoned the angels, as far as they’re concerned).

Although, if The Winchesters is entirely Dean’s AU, that puts a different spin on things in terms of Chuck’s role... I think it’s most likely this is Dean’s AU, to an extent, as an unreliable narrator (and even perhaps as a more interventionist “Dean-as-New-God-the-Author”) but it’s not a complete re-write (some parts of the song remain the same). 

The plague of locusts in Exodus was followed by a plague of darkness followed by the death of the firstborn sons; hello plague nine as Cas sucked into the darkness of the Empty and, hello plague ten as the rebar death of firstborn son Dean. More grist to the interpretive mill that 15x20 was Chuck’s SPN ending after all, or at least, that’s how Narrator-Dean sees it.

We have come across the plagues before in Supernatural in 6x03 The Third Man (which is a Ben Edlund episode):

DEAN: “Sweet. Blood, boils, locusts.”

SAM: “Three of your more popular Egyptian plagues.”

DEAN picks up a jar containing the locusts.

DEAN: “Yeah, but these guys... ate their way out of a cop's melon. I don't quite remember that in the King James.”

http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/6.03_The_Third_Man_(Transcript) 

http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/Officer_Ed_Colfax 

The episode has Souless!Sammy (but Dean doesn’t know yet) and Balthazar and his old “bromance” with Cas, and learning there is a war in Heaven amongst the angels.

It’s also got some classic Destiel lines in it:

Dean:  “ Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here.”

Cas: “Dean and I do share a more profound bond.” 

Cas:“...when a claim is laid on a living soul, it leaves a mark, a brand.”

Are the alien-cricket Akrida a Narrator-Dean creation, thanks to his love of Slaughterhouse Five with its aliens (and maybe with the input of other stories he’s perhaps enjoyed with creepy alien bugs, like Naked Lunch and Starship Troopers)? 

Are they Chuck’s Multiverse plague of locusts, designed to push John and Mary into one another’s arms? 

We don’t know, and we probably won’t get a definitive answer.   

The Biblical plague aspect of the Akrida, as nefarious alien locusts, does gives us some interesting food for thought in terms of call-backs to the SPN Main-Text.

#Supernatural #The Winchesters #The Winchesters meta #The Akrida #The Akrida as the Eighth Plague in Exodus #6x03 #The Third Man #Holy Ghost Narrator Dean #Chuck Shurley #Sex Bugs and Drugs

[dungeonpuppykai]

Small World anon here again,sorry. I can't believe I left out one thing in that long ass ask of mine,where Bucky wouldn't ate without Reader. Like- That is so- 🥺 *sniffs* I know that you wrote that she's the homerunner so that means she's the one who cooks & do all the other houseworks,I understood it but it's still so cute and all the more heartbreaking,you know? 🥲 I also understood it as he wouldn't eat WITHOUT her. He wouldn't eat if she's not eating with him,like a proper family (married couple/old married couple) type of thing. Like even if the food's ready,he's not eating and refuses to eat if she doesn't too,WITH HIM 🥺😭 Does that mean Bucky refuses food when he's in jail the first time they served him after he got caught? Cause he was in bliss & on cloud nine for months living a normal domestic life with her that it's hard to let go even though he's mad at her for thinking she reported him so he refused eating the first time they gave him food in jail right after he got caught? Back to their domestic phase! That is so cute tho! He wouldn't eat without her,awww! 😭 He's tired and beat coming home from work and he's starving after a long shift and he's about to eat but he sees that Reader's not eating and now he's not eating either. They both need to be at the table EATING together for him able to eat AWWWWW 😭💕

Okay,okay,I'm done gushing about Small World. I'll stop being annoying now,seriously 😭 Btw,I wrote that very long review/feedback ahead so I can truly express every single thing on how I feel on each plot/scenes in Small World so I didn't notice that you've changed the picture you photoshopped to the one of a gif of Bucky from CA : TWS. In fact,it's still showing the photoshopped picture in my reblog lol. But my point still stands,I felt bad that you had to so much work for my request,including photoshopping. Just know that I really appreciate every single thing you do to perfect my fic request in such a short time,thank you so much again 🙏🏼❤❤❤ A million times thank you 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🫂🫂🫂🫂

I also saw your posts and #kai rambles that I've missed. I'm so sorry for everything. I still felt bad about my late feedback but I understood you meant in general. Yeah,it sucked that people couldn't take the time to leave a feedback,a short comment,a reaction anything to a work that an author/writer put so much work and effort into in such a short time for our reading enjoyment. It's especially even more of a shitty move if it's a request a writer decided to take up and then there's just silence afterwards once the request is written...... Forever. Crickets,nothing. The writer doesn't even get paid for writing these requests. The least they could do is simply give a feedback,a short simple straight to the point feedback accompanied with a thank you. It's not that hard. I don't know. People need to be more appreciative. It's not easy at all to write,I tried and it's hard asf. Don't just go complete silence after a completed request,it's not too much to ask at all. It's the bare minimum. I know that a fic you've written have gotten 1k notes,prob reaching 2k now as we speak. I'd love nothing more than to see that kind of interactions happen again with every single one of your work because a talented,kind & humble writer like you is more than deserving of it ❤ I can try to be interactive but I'm one person. But try,I will. Cause it feels like the only way I can give back the same way writers like you put your heart & love into all of your works for our sake. So we would surreal reading experience. And it's really not asking much at all when the writers's the ones doing all the work between writers & readers.

Are you okay btw? I saw your #kai rambles,what's going on? If you need someone to talk to,you can vent to me,I'll dm you. If that's crossing the line,then you can just vent to me through these anon asks instead. You wrote that you felt insecure about your writings,that this app made you feel that way and that you might chuck it all one day. I want to plead to you please don't but this is YOUR blog and all the fics you wrote are YOUR works,YOUR properties so I have no say to say what you can or can't do with your own work. Your own blood,sweat & tears. But I will still have hope that you'll stay 🫂❤ I've found works from deactivated writers (and they're really good too) where I try to find that maybe they left their work up on AO3 but nothing. Can't find their full works anywhere,it's like they disappeared off the radar completely. And I've seen some talented writers deactivated and deleted all of their works from all the sites they posted them on. It truly felt like you just lost something important in your life,especially when you've been following their works for years and suddenly one day,they just disappeared. It's an empty feeling of loss that can be filled or replaced. Every writer is unique and has their own style. No 2 of them will ever truly be the same. It breaks my heart to know that such a creative and talented writer like you feels insecure about your own work and view them in a different light than your readers do? I'll convince you that your writings are perfect a million times if I have to. I'm so sorry that you still felt this way. Idk what to do to make you change your mind. The least I can do is offer support and tells you how much your writings meant to me. How happy it makes me. How it stayed in my mind for a long time afterwards 💜 Your writings are beautiful ❤ They're perfect 💕 And I'm not telling you what to do but I hope you'll stay here for a long time 🫂 Your writings are not how you see them at all. They're freaking amazing 🙏🏼 Also,I saw that you're taking a break from writing for a while,is that correct? If that's so then take care of yourself,honey ❤ Hope you'll feel a lot better once you return 🫂 I'll miss you but I understand 💜 Take care of yourself first 💜🫂 Lack of interactions can really be grating. Take care of yourself properly,I'll still be here if you ever want to talk 🫂❤ Sorry again for writing so long.

First off, I love the chokehold that Small World Bucky has us in 😂🩷

YESSS! Lord knows how I sobbed writing it because fuck if someone cared for me and my presence like that 🥺 (and I literally enjoy eating alone lmfao). No, you're right. It doesn't matter whether she has cooked or not because some days she can be sick and surely hubby isn't so heartless. It is totally that he DOES NOT eat without her regardless of whether it's take out or home cooked. After all, what kind of a couple doesn't eat together? 🥺❤️

I see Small World Bucky as a rather chill and laid-back kinda guy (I mean that isn't much different from canon Bucky I think) but you best believe the first few days of his prison food (if he even went there, that is 👀) was eaten by the walls and the floor. He just got betrayed by his future wife who he cannot eat without. Of course he's not just gonna say grace and enjoy the shitty slammer food 🙄

Thank you for your kind words, they are really heart warming and definitely uplifting. I do have to agree with you about what you said about response and feedback. But I also kinda dislike my writing and don't understand why people like it 💀 I've tried to stop many times but I can't. It's probably because I am a literature major and I compare these to the stuff I study and of course fanfic can never compare to those and English isn't even my first language but I can't help it still.

I am not sure about a 'break' because sometimes I feel like taking one but then I come back because I enjoy writing stories and being delulu hehe. Your words really do mean a lot to me and thank you again for taking the time to write such a sweet ask to me ilysm 🩷🩷🩷

You can interact with me however you feel comfy, I don't mind. Although I am not someone who likes to vent or talk about things because I feel like it doesn't actually solve anything 💀😂 yeah I am a pessimist like that. That's one of the reasons exactly why I stress rant in a cryptic way so it's not so out there but I can still get it out of me. Though the fact that you said you'll miss me is making me so 🥺🥺🩷🩷

Also please never apologize again for writing a lengthy ask to me. I am the same way and I do not mind it at all 🩷

#ask kai #anon love 🩷 #kais babes 🩷 #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky x you

[mcnobi]

Send this to people you'd like to know better.

thank you lovely @lowkeyanakin for tagging me. and i'm also sorry to everyone because I can't be concise even if you paid me.

What book are you currently reading? I haven't picked up my kindle in an age but last time I read it was Critical by Matt Morgan, who is an Intensive Care Doctor, talking about some of his experiences, particularly through Covid. Going to try and read a couple of new things over the Christmas break.

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year? To be fair it was the ONLY film I saw in the cinema this year, but it was Guillermo Del Toro's Pinocchio. I love that tiny blue cricket and I don't care who knows it.

What do you usually wear? At the moment it switches between midi dresses and ankle boots or trainers, or leggings and big slouchy tops with ankle boots or trainers. I almost always have a scarf on from about October to March. (Can you tell it's -3 here and that's all I'm preoccupied with?)

How tall are you? Small enough that I had to stand on a pallet when I had to be on camera for some filming a couple of weeks ago. Rude.

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? I'm a gemini and I fit it right down to the ground. One of the most famous people I share my birthday with is now a notorious anti-semite unfortunately so I'm going to go with Tim Berners Lee instead.

Do you go by your name or a nick-name? Usually my name IRL but I have a ton of nicknames, some of which have absolutely no relation to my actual name. I get cas, cassiopeia, casserole from the online besties. My old work pals call me johnson (which is not my surname and isn't even close but it's a long story) but usually it's case if it's a RL pal, or sweetpea if it's my dad.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? I don't know, because I flitted between ideas for a long time. I wanted to be a magazine editor for a time when I was about 8, and did work in magazine publishing for a couple of years, but really when I was a teenager, I wanted to be a doctor in emergency medicine. I wanted to be a cinematographer during university, but I ended up in marketing and comms instead, like most humanities grads.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one? Single and 100% good with it. There's this fit Scottish guy though who keeps making films about these wars in space, I don't know if you've heard of them or anything....?

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at? I never know what to say for these things. I know I'm very thoughtful, and I put a lot of thought into my friendships, and my gifts, and my work, because that's just how I'm made. I'm terrible at asking for help, because the fear of burdening people is embedded deep down in me. Even though I would never ever see anyone else as a burden, ever. It's weird how it works.

Dogs or cats? CATS ALL DAY EVERY DAY.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year?  I thought I'd written something this year but it was actually LAST YEAR. Good god. However I did do a couple of little crappy sketches a couple of weeks ago (the drawing was crappy, not the content) of @thetorontokid and @weaponizedwit's beautiful little cats which I quite liked doing.

What’s something you would like to create content for? I'd literally like to create content for ANYTHING at the moment. My brain is a bit atrophied from constantly creating work content but never fun fandom stuff. I'd like to try and write some fic soon, and do more art too.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with? Ewan Gordon McGregor.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year? This is going to be a controversial one for some so I'm going to be very specific; Obi Wan Kenobi's WRITING. All the right parts were in play, but it never felt like the writing ever went below a shallow glance over the story. And the acting was so great and deserved so much better. So yeah, Joby Harold - do better, you prick.

What’s a hidden talent of yours? Again, I have no idea what to put for these things. I don't know that I even have any talents!

Are you religious? No.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment? For one of my best pals, who is currently in labour, to have her baby safely and without any drama. Beyond that, I'd like to be able to hang out with my gremlin pals without an ocean in the way. Otherwise, I'm all good.

I'm never on here much now (I know I know I'm sorry) so I don't know who has already done this - so I'm just going to tag the gremlins @thetorontokid and @weaponizedwit and lovely brit @obiknights

#tag game #mutuals #lowkeyanakin

[wanderingcas]

18 26 39 for the writing asks! ♡

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

from the common hours, bc we're all here for that sweet sweet destiel content:

He finds Dean by a lake.

The woods break into a clearing, the lake shimmering and whispering in the quiet twilight. A dock juts from the shoreline, swaying with the gentle waves. Dean sits on a bench at the end of the dock, beer in hand, looking toward the sunset.

Dean can probably hear Castiel’s footsteps shuddering the dock, but he doesn’t turn around. He takes a long pull of the beer as Castiel stands next to the bench, hands in his pockets.

They steep in silence for a long, drawn-out moment. Crickets chirp, ushering in the sunset. Dean’s eyes flicker to Castiel, then away. 

“Sam told you, huh?”

so basically for this passage i rewrote it about a hundred times because it's the Pinnacle Moment between dean and cas in chapter 4, like when they actually talk about some things between them while not talking at all. since Cas doesn't remember dean, i had to make sure he's getting to know dean enough to look past his rough edges, while also keeping the mystery. so i rewrote it a lot!! i wanted dean to be withholding but also give just enough so that him and cas fall in love a second time

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

it just kinda hits me, sometimes? and i don't get out. i'm spread thin into 30 different consciousnesses at once. help. can someone get me out please

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

answered, but i'll give ya another one: remembering that i have no other skill in this cold unforgiving world, and if i didn't have this method to escape reality then i'd literally have nothing else

#sobernatural #answered ask #thank you!! #whoa it got dark at the end there lmao #weird writing asks

[stoookes]

Following in the vein of the previous ask, in a situation where both playing teams contain several omegas, is the winning team allowed to choose the omega they want? Or is the omega who'd go over if they lose pre-decided, before the series, and the winning team gets no say in which omega they want?

pre decided, before the series starts, by the owning cricket board.

So ECB pick to send Stuart after walkgate for the 2013/14 series, not CA (there is a reason but you'll have to wait until I write it :P)

[lonespektr]

OCTOBER 20TH HORROR WATCH

Harum Malam- (Blood Flower) (2023)

Saw this is with the kid from that YA Netflix horror show mr midnight and i immediately put in on the list

He already seeing stuff

Once again in abandoned locations

Now you're flashlights aren't working mam

I wouldn't take it

Sound like the starter but the car is already going That's a battery issue

Third sight? For directions? Bossy man

He seeing creepys in the cemetery that's slender man right now

Premonition oh shit

Dad already has to go

They screaming

Bleeding fruit

Bruh u having a panic attack

They found a house?

If she know why she not helping him, he's freaking out

Uh unh the house empty

But candles lit this is suspect

Who she talking to

Oh this is her client

WHAT THE HELL

djinn

Bro yo babies to a dangerous exorcism

The girl is down stairs

She got the healing touch i guess

Bro she lying

Two heads

Nooo

Dad is fecckkin useless the spirit jumped

It's a shady djinn

They got it out

How what about the other two possessed

Bruh they distracted her this is why you don't take your family to exorcism night

Damn

I knew they were gonna do it

But it's bs already cause this dad is wack

They not giving the girl any lines

Now why did they say that??

Was that honest cause they know he sees ghosts

Dad is a massage therapist?

Dad is a pimp?

He don't know his kid?

Carnivorous plants!!

Nepenthes!!!!!

That's pitcher plant folks

None in that region? But it's hot and muggy???

Well they probably got other cool plants im googling where most are 🤔

Local to here but probably real expensive there they are expensive in CA

Titan aramas!!

(Corpse flower)

Not the plant talking

Creepy locked room

In America they would have made that bubble pop loud

Bro you related??

Or Uncle out of respect ??

Already breaking rules bad

U just picking up the frog bro leave him be hes already dinner

Not taking the spell off the door

Yo put it back!!! Quick seal it up

The wall bleeding playa time to go

DEMON

That was a good effect with the light but u didn't seal it man the door just closed back on it's own

Why only men on the one poster ?

Now the demon stalking him and giving him bad dreams

Bro she seemed nice enough it's just that her head was sliced in half

Sleeping at moms grave

At least he cares

They binding him up

He gon burn it don't give it to him

This movie has a bunch of discordant clicks and dings and clashes

The effects are good

Whose the girl with the demon

Whoa ok granny

Don't do it

Whoa creepy

Bro that was a great scene

Oh hell no i don't do bugs

Cricket down

Bruh THEY LEFT THE DOOR OPEN with the expensive plants FOR DAYS IT'S BEEN DAYS

oh hes working in there rn 🤣🤣

More discordant noises

Ha it cracks me up when stuff is going down behind somebody and it's headphones time

Kids r having night mares

I like all the eccentricities of the hauntings

At least the dad had his back publicly

One kid gone and that paper is fishing people

The writing isn't super strong and the direction is heavy handed because i have seen this kid work and it seemed like somebody was telling him MORE DRAMATIC

They've done like a trance thing twice now and im unclear about the rules hallucinations

Premonitions

Abortion?

Baby eating?

Auto canabalisim

Is it wrong im worried when the blood flower will be damaged

Dad is aloof as hell

Got em

Best scene ever the cops like

🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

Ah boy is a great name

Every body got the gift but dad

Bro HELP HER

She's sick now

Wait

They just letting her stay possessed

Bro what are you gonna do you don't have the juju

Why didn't they unbind him at the church? Mosque?

She's doing a good job possessed

He's admitted his wrongs

This is so chaotic

Great shot there from above

Why do have him hemmed up???

Wtf a demon spawn

Bro you can't do it you're all going to die if you keep the son locked down

Aww he's trying to keep his son out of the biz

Bro off the top rope with a knife

How did you get two?

WE JUST TALKED ABOUT TAKE YOUR KID TO EXORCISM DAY

You have to eat it?

You just can't pull it out?

Now he has to demon walk

Lol she 110% now 🤣🤣

Dad back already

Oh coincidence

The damn cops didn't get the other skull 🤣🤣🤣

What kinda outfit??

Bro it's going down in the basement

They've been implying this since halfway through but they won't confirm

And the grandma and the og knew

Now the whole plant room is haunted because they been feeding the plant the missing kid

We protecting a child incest rapist murder?

Way too quick for him

Oh no i think he's getting dragged off to hell for eternity torture session

The power of family

Needful

Interesting

Short and sweet

I think America & borneo might have the most

You don't think weird plants America

But if we have the most carnivorous plants that's automatic puts USA in top 5 for weird plants it's north Carolina apparently

#blood flower #graywatchhorror23 #harum malam

[gurerekaj]

Swimming techniques beginners pdf writer

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[puretchalla]

absolutely hate that so much of my job relies on other people doing their job 😤

#not my coworkers. they’re always on top of things #our fucking CLIENTS. they suck so bad i literally cannot stand them #specifically these 2 useless idiots in CA… takes literally TEN BUSINESS DAYS just to write back a 1-sentence email #but when THEY need something they blow me up 2 minutes before i’m off to drop a whole new workload on my lap #& then they fucking dip for the night #the amount of flagged emails i have in my inbox as a reminder to ‘follow-up’…. & 90% of them ARE BECAUSE OF THEM #i even compiled alllll of my pending items in ONE neat concise email to dumb it down for them #since they’re obviously incapable of handling more than 1 task per day #& even then — NOTHING. #what’s absolutely crazy is all the work we do is to help THEM out. they’re the ones that call us 10 times a day crying about how #they are ‘desperate for help’ #but when we get it for them it’s *crickets* #then they get mad when we CANT help them like ???? make it make fucking sense bro #absolutely fucking useless #end of work rant #i have to let my aggression out somewhere because if i say something directly to them…tuh

[ladylumin]

Early Birthday Gift | Oikawa x F!Y/N

It was late at night, and the stars seemed to shine brighter than they ever have before. You shuddered as a breeze blew past you. You rubbed your arms and went back to focus on your new poem. You let out a frustrated grunt. 

“What should I write about?” you asked yourself.

You closed your eyes to think, desperately trying to find inspiration, and the first thing that popped up in your mind were clouds. You took your quill and started to write down your ideas. It was a quiet night, and all you could hear were crickets hopping around in the grass. You lied down on the grass and let out a sigh. You are at peace, and began to think about your day, starting with the beach waves crashing amongst other waves.  It was finally quiet, since your friends Bokuto and Kuroo decided to head out and leave you behind. You were completely fine with that though, since you basically always third-wheeled when the three of you hung out together.

"I can actually hear myself think," you thought. 

You quickly finished your poem. "I'M FINALLY DONE!" you exclaimed, filled with glee. You decided that since your mission here was complete, you would head back home.

You settled at your desk and began to read it, your eyes scanning every single word. You read it again... and again... and again. 

"This is horrible, nothing makes sense!" you grumbled. You took the poem, crumbled it up, and threw it into the trash can in your room. You grabbed another piece of paper. "Should I write another one?" you thought. You decided to move onto finishing your first book. It was quiet and you felt at ease once again.

"Hi Y/N!" a loud and bubbly voice shouted. You screamed in utter shock and whipped your head around  towards the person who startled you. 

Oikawa put a hand on the back of his head, letting out an awkward laugh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." 

You narrowed your eyes at him and turned back to your work. "You scared the shit out of me," you said.  

"Kuroo and Bokuto are out, what did you expect?” he says as he lets out an annoying yet soothing laugh.  “Whenever they're gone, it's always so quiet." 

You set your glasses on the table. Oikawa smirks at you and says "You look cute in glasses." 

You felt a faint wave of heat hit your face. "Remind me to burn those later" you muttered. Oikawa lets out another laugh. As you tried to prevent your face from becoming even more red, you began looking around the room, trying to look for something to busy yourself with while Oikawa’s laughter died down. Your eyes landed on Oikawa, and you began to study him. He seemed more jumpy than usual. 

"Why did you come over? Surely there must be a reason." 

Oikawa gave you a faint smile. "I can't just... you know, visit?" 

"No, you ca-"

Oikawa cleared his voice, "Anyway!" he said fairly loudly. "I brought you a gift, since your birthday is coming up soon." 

You looked up at him. "You got a  gift.. for me?" 

Oikawa laughed, "Yeah, who else?"

You blinked at him. Oikawa smiled, "You want to see it don't you?"

You crossed your arms. "I- I guess." Oikawa left the room for a bit and came back with a huge box with a big bow on it. You looked at it with surprisement, since you had never gotten such a big gift before. 

Oikawa gave it to you and as you received it, it was super heavy. You didn't expect it to be so heavy so it fell out of your grasp.

Oikawa swiftly stopped you and the gift from falling, by grabbing the box with one hand and his other hand around your waist. Oikawa looked directly at you, your gazes locking. Oikawa smirked and you felt your face start to burn, as you started to think about Oikawa’s strength, and the way he smirked at you. You quickly grabbed the box and slammed it down onto your desk. 

"Wow! Where did you get all that strength from all of a sudden?" 

You ignored him and started to open the box. Oikawa slid next to you and watched you open it. 

"You’re going to LOVE the early birthday gift I got you!" Oikawa exclaimed in delight as he clapped his hands.. You found the gesture cute but rolled your eyes and continued ripping the box open.

Oikawa watched as Y/N ripped apart the box to retrieve their gift. They seemed so shocked by the fact that Oikawa had done such a thing. Although he had done so multiple times before, this time, it was different. 

Oikawa gazes over at your fingers, a huge grin forming on his face. You were wearing the matching ring he had gotten for the two of you.  It proved to him that he did in fact mean a lot to you, even though you wouldn't admit it or say it. Everytime he sees you with the ring on, his heart feels like it's melting. 

You finally finished ripping the box open and as you look inside, you gasp.

It was- It was the beginner writer kit you had seen on TV a couple of weeks ago. You and Oikawa were over at your place. As soon as you saw it on TV, your eyes glistened and sparkled. Oikawa took notice of this and made a mental note, reminding himself to get the kit for you. 

As shocked as you were, you caught sight of some books in the box as well and picked them up, discovering that they were the writing books you had seen at the library when you were out with Oikawa one day, with some of the books being about writing tips and others from your favorite authors who you looked up to. 

You looked up at Oikawa and he smiled at you. His face was lit by the moonlight shining through your window and he had a warm look in his eyes. 

"I- I’m so-" your voice cracked. "Tha- Thank-" you  rushed forward to give Oikawa a big hug. Oikawa slowly hugs you back. 

You snuggled your face in his chest. "Thank you, I really appreciate this. I’m glad that you got me all this, since, you know, I'm a big fan of writing." you muttered softly. 

Oikawa's face turned bright red, and he started to sweat. "Y-you're welcome Y/N," he says as he lets out a nervous chuckle, trying his best to steady his breathing, hoping you didn't feel his heart beating rapidly inside his chest.

You pull back and gaze at the box again, carefully pulling out everything that was in it. Oikawa took that as his chance to try to go back to normal and process everything that had just happened. "Did they just hug me??? Is this a dream???” 

Oikawa tried his best not to pass out. You grab his hand, making him wobble. 

"I want to show you something," you say as you drag him outside to the beautiful night. 

Oikawa sits down on the ground, with you sitting down next to him. 

You lift your head up to stare at the skies. Oikawa notices this and does the same, with his attention then shifting back to you. But, out of fear of being caught staring at you, he turns his attention to the flowers, who seem to (according to Oikawa) glow brighter during the night than during the day. You let out a deep breath and flopped beside him. 

You followed his gaze and smiled. "It's pretty, isn't it?"

Oikawa looked down at you, and nodded. You sit up and rest your head on his shoulder. Oikawa tried not to tense up. He was currently speechless. He wanted to remain in that position. Oikawa kept his eyes on the flowers. 

"Can I have a hug?" you asked as you looked up at Oikawa. Oikawa gets up and reaches his hand out for you to grab. You grab it and stare at Oikawa, waiting for a response. 

Oikawa looked away shyly and said: "Fine, you can hug me." 

You smile widely and Oikawa hugs you tightly. You laugh. "Let go, Oikawa." 

Oikawa continued to hug you. "But I want to remain like this," you relax and don't say anything. 

"How about a kiss?" Oikawa asks. 

"Take the hug or leave it, idiot," you say sharply. 

Oikawa shrugs and continues to hug you.

Oikawa hoped that maybe one day, the two of you could be more than this, and that he could see your softer side more. But for now...

Everything was perfect.

#haikyuu! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa scenarios #oikawa haikyuu #hq oikawa #oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x female reader #oikawa x you

[littlewetbeast]

so this is coming from your tags on a post about s8 and 9. as someone who only joined the fandom after nov 5, I'm always curious about what the fandom was like when the show was airing. can you talk about that a little bit more? maybe elaborate on your tags? thanks a lot <3

i can only really tell you what it was like from my perspective back in the day, and what i can say is that there was SO. MUCH. HYPE. when season 8 was coming out. people were pointing to the source material and going, wait! that shit isn’t just a gay sex joke, that shit is like - textual romance! and that’s what made people begin to argue that this time, it wasn’t bait, but a narrative that they surely wouldn’t drop the ball on. of course, now, in hindsight, we all know spn is the baitiest of bait and supreme trashfire, but at the time it truly did seem like things were headed in a new direction - and we had the textual evidence to back us up on that. i mean, i was there watching it all live throughout season 6, 7 and 8 - most of my close friends watched it, and the destiel tumblr community was on fire by the time season 8 rolled around. i wish i could find some of the old meta posts, but essentially, season 8 truly got so many people thinking that this time, the tides were changing. charlie and kevin were now part of the main cast, and there was undoubtable intent in season 8, not just from cas' side, but from dean's as well. people went bonkers over the aaron scene. this was a time where queerbaiting was at a an all-time high amongst so many popular tv shows, but there was simply no one that went the length that supernatural did. and it wasn’t just the undoubtably gay shit - it was the introduction of kevin and charlie, that incremental effort to include more characters outside of a white, male cast, which bolstered the argument that spn was finally headed in a new direction. i mean, they’d done the same shit over and over for years, surely this was a sign that they knew they had to switch things up. i remember being so genuinely hyped, along with my other queer friends, because we started to believe that perhaps spn truly was going to follow through on this. it was literally all there, in the text! one of dean’s closest friends was a lesbian. dean was in a love triangle with two men. dean got romantically flustered when a gay guy hit on him. dean hallucinated cas and altered his memory to cope with him leaving. dean was on his knees telling cas he needed him, and it broke the connection. there was just so much. anyway. having had that experience, the unfolding of spn’s ending and cas’ confession literally felt like a ‘classic spn’ moment for so many of us. we’d already been burned before by having the naïve expectation that spn could... you know, actually be normal about queer people, and write fulfilling narratives for them. throughout season 9 through 10, a huge amount of things that season 8 set up were undone - kevin was killed, charlie was killed, cas and dean were separated and no homo-ed repeatedly. there wasn’t an outrage that i could see on my dash, but myself and all my close friends just... stopped watching. there were crickets on my dash, maybe a few gifs here and there. the interest completely plummeted. there was a silent deflation and quiet acceptance from those of us that had actually gotten our hopes up that spn really was that show. when i discovered they’d killed off both kevin and charlie, that cemented the knowledge that supernatural was never going to give us what we wanted. i can’t even fully describe how fundamentally that experience changed me, but my attitude towards media and queer representation was completely altered as a result. spn has refused to move with the times, but they had already demonstrated before that they were never going to make that leap. they were in the stranglehold of the network, and the desire to retain their conservative viewership overrode every attempt to move beyond the gun-slinging sam-and-dean bro show.  so yeah, in the end, i have such sympathy for newer fans that got burned so badly by the finale, but as an older fan, i looked at it as it was all unfolding and just went - yup, been there, done that. it’s a classic spn move. i stopped giving credit to those who were throwing out crumbs of representation, when what we actually deserve is to feast. anyway, in summary, spn has expertly burned its queer fanbase for almost a decade. in response, i reject many parts of the canon and simply enjoy the fanon content, because it’s stupid and i do what i want. 

#rosa answers #long post #sorry #know herstory i guess #funnily enough the experience with spn's baiting made watching yuri on ice an incredible experience #queerbaiting is rife in anime as well and i'd also... pretty much stopped anime as well at that point #but made an exception for yuri on ice #i was literally sat there going 'no way they're gonna follow through on this' #and then they DID #anyway. spn fundamentally alters your brain chemistry i guess

[harlowsage]

Strange (CH)

{Part 1}

Pair: calum & Jude Armenta (fictional character)

Summary: Based on the song “Strange” by Celeste. The couple had broken up due to clashing schedules, resulting in Calum’s first ever taste of heart break.

Warnings: sprinkle of some angsty goodness.

Character preface: Jude Armenta is a Grammy winning producer who’s on the level of Kanye west and Max Martin.

Side note: Been a long minute since I’ve had any inspiration to start writing again. Promise to get better at story telling as time goes on. Warming up again.

ENJOY HEHE <333

https://harlowsage.tumblr.com/post/660389189201887232

(Story Moodboard)👆🏼

https://harlowsage.tumblr.com/post/660744341452718080/strange-ch

https://harlowsage.tumblr.com/post/660922684542238720/strange-ch-chapter-3

{part 3 is up👆🏼}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a year since they broke up and went their separate ways, not because they wanted to, but because they had to. With the success of Calum and the bands career reigniting their popularity and even placing them on the same level as major artists such as The Weekend and Ariana Grande, all with the help of Jude who helped create their new sound with the last two albums they released.

Jude would never admit it, but she blamed herself for the break up. Calum tried, god knows he did, constantly trying to keep up with her although he was always touring while she was either in LA, New York, or Sweden producing music for artists like she’s supposed to. But due to their conflicting schedules, they had trouble communicating on a healthy level. It was always either Calum calling her before and after shows with her stuck in a studio with her phone put away somewhere, to her returning his calls and texting him a summary of her day and what kind of artists she was working with at the time. After a while, they slowly faded into strangers, once meaningful conversations turning into meaningless small talk.

One day Calum had showed up to their house in Topanga after a red eye from Spain, only to find Jude wide awake sitting on the side of the pool with her feet in the water smoking a joint. He joined her, sitting next to her crossing his legs staring at her painfully beautiful side profile. He noticed that his presence didn’t even affect her.

“It’s 5 in the morning, what are you doing up?” He asked in a tired voice.

“I have a flight back to New York in an hour, thought I’d come out to watch the sunrise while I wait for my ride” she hummed, still looking into the distance.

“I see” he hummed, not knowing what else to say.

They both sat there in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sound of birds chirping in the trees and crickets in the bushes.

“Calum”, she spoke, finally turning to look at him.

The look in her eyes made his stomach twist, there was hardly any warmth or admiration in them.

“I know”, he sighed, the sadness loud and clear in his tone.

“We tried, we really fucking tried. But I think it’s time we accept the evident truth” she choked out, her voice ever so slightly wavering.

“I love you”, he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.

Jude bowed her head, her own tears forming.

“I love you, I always will” she whispered placing her hand on top of his.

He intertwined their fingers leaning into her pressing his lips to her cheek tasting the salty tears streaming down.

Jude pulled away, her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, she stared at him for a few seconds taking in the beauty that is him, before nodding her head and getting up.

“I have to leave, got a flight to catch. I uh, ima be staying there for a quite a bit, the house is yours” she said in an almost robotic like voice.

“No it’s yours, I’ll have my stuff moved out once I’m fully awake”, he tightly smiled trying to reassure her that he’s gonna be ok, even though they both clearly knew he wasn’t.

Jude could only nod her head, lingering for a moment until she heard the sound of the town car that was sent to take her to the airport. It was like a switch had turned off and she was on auto pilot.

Not having the guts to say good bye, she turned on her heel and grabbed her shoes along with a suitcase which Calum had just realized was there the entire time.

He could only watch her back as she walked further and further away until she was gone. It was then when he finally broke down clutching his shirt where his heart is.

After that day, the two hadn’t seen each other since. Calum only showed face to events he absolutely had to, while Jude turned down any public appearances even if she was winning awards. Not entirely because of Calum, although he was an aspect of it, she’s just always been the type of public figure who hates the concept of Hollywood.

When the Grammys came around, the band won album of the year, the album Jude had a big hand in. Ashton took lead and thanked her in the speech. Calum held a fake smile making sure to not waver his tight expression even though it pained to hear her name. But when you date the most famous producer in the industry it’s almost impossible to escape the near mention of their impactful presence.

Jude had the opposite effect on her, not being one for social media, she never kept up to date with the boys ever growing success. There would be countless weeks that would go by where she wouldn’t even have the slightest thought of Calum, until she’d hear a song that reminded her of him which would then cause an avalanche of memories hitting her. She wasn’t one to let emotions control her, so whenever he would seep into her mind she’d find something to distract her until he turned into a fading figment of her imagination. After a while she began to move on, meeting a fellow songwriter through a mutual friend. The two hit it off right off the bat. Next thing she knew, she was seeing him outside of work, grabbing lunch/dinner with him, inviting him into her New York loft, and vice versa.

Calum had heard through the grape vine that Jude was seeing someone. It drove him insane that she could move on so fast, when he was still hurting the way he was. He found himself growing a toxic habit of sleeping with women who reminded him of her. They all had long brown her with big brown eyes, but none of them could ever touch the enigmatic beauty that is Jude Armenta. The boys had to have a serious talk saying that sleeping around isn’t gonna fill the void he’s trying to cover up, it’s only gonna cause a deeper hole. He knew they were right. So he swore off having countless one nighters, to focusing all of his hurt into music.

As time passed he found it easier to go to sleep without reaching for her in the middle of the night. Days felt slightly brighter and his mind was no longer consumed of thoughts revolving around Jude. He was finally getting better and beginning to move on with his life.

That was until he caught sight of her at cafe that he knew was her favorite to eat at, she was sitting at a table outside, captivated by a book she was reading. Her hair was cut short accentuating her heart shaped face, she was wearing cut off shorts paired with some old vintage tee from her dads collection, and some sunglasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. To the common eye no one would even know that was her, but spending countless hours admiring her beauty up close, it was so natural that he would be able to spot her.

“Jude”, he whispered.

…..

Lemme know what you think, and if I should continue this story :)

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fluff #calum hood blurbs #calum hood smut #calum hood fic #5sos fanfic #5sosedit #5sos blurbs #5sos smut #calum 5sos #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of smut #calum imagine #calum smut #famfiction

[casismymrdarcy]

Wish

Dean and Cas stargazing while contemplating about their life. A ficlet dedicated to Ellie @shakespeareintellectualbadass . Thank you for always supporting me in my writing.

“Do you ever wish we met under different circumstances?”

Dean turned his head towards Cas, eyebrows raised, startled by his question. The night was quiet except for the continuous sound of crickets at the field. They had been on the hood of the impala, stargazing in comfortable silence for the past hour. Cas’s face was unreadable in the dark, eyes staring into the distance.

Dean let out a sigh before answering.

“Sometimes. Especially when things get tough,” like watching you die, he added the last statement in his head but never out loud.

“But are we even gonna meet in normal situations?” Dean scoffed.

“Define normal.” Cas said curiously, turning slightly to look at Dean. 

“Well, for starters, you’re probably in heaven commanding an army or some shit, and I’m just gonna be a regular guy, without any fate of the world hanging on my shoulder, which would be nice but then you wouldn’t look twice at me or even talk to me as a matter of fact,” Dean, averting Cas’s eyes, blurted out.

“So you don’t want to meet me at all?” Cas asked, voice wavering a little bit.

“No-that’s not what I mean, fuck no- it just- “ Dean stumbled through his words, before stopping and taking a deep breath. He wipes his face, slowly releasing the words.

“What I mean is, I’m not that special to be noticed by a literal angel like you,” Dean tried to keep his voice steady but instead it sounded choked.

Like really, would Cas care about him at all if he isn’t the righteous man? Would they even meet? Maybe someone else would be in his place, maybe Cas would bond with them instead. Their path may never have crossed at all. They’re not gonna even sit here together, like tonight. 

Somehow all those thoughts stings him a little bit.

“To me you are,” Cas said finally.

“You’re just saying that,” Dean dismissed it.

“No Dean. Listen.” Cas said and faced him fully. “All those things don't define who you are. You are still the same kind, selfless and caring man that I come to know. No fate, no destiny, can ever change that. Besides, I’m the one who had been privileged enough to meet you and eventually knowing you,”

Dean was crushed under the intensity of Cas’s blue eyes, a little bit dimmed in the dark, but never lost its sparkle while Cas held his gaze, waiting for Dean to challenge his words.

Too overwhelmed to say anything back, besides a little nod, Dean returned back to stare at the sky, heart still pounding, feeling warmth creeping on his face. He silently thanked the darkness for hiding his blushed cheek and small smile.

Feeling satisfied that there’s no objection from Dean, Cas joined him to stare at the stars too.

If Cas noticed the smile on Dean's face, mirroring the one on his own face, he pretended not to.

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #destiel ficlet #deancas ficlet #it's been a while since I've write ficlet #I hope you like it Ellie #also this is on queue while I'm sleeping because I'm too shy to see your reaction #my fics

[peblezq]

Hey Pebs! Firstly, congratulations on releasing your book! I hope all feedback you've been receiving so far has been positive :) Secondly, have you considered releasing Little Lavender as an E-book? I have tried to order a paper copy but for some reason there's an error sending to my location. I really liked the ao3 story and I'm disappointed I can't read the story anymore so are there any plans for that? Have a great day!

Howdy! Thank you so much!

First of all, have you changed the Amazon link to be your regional Amazon (ie. ".com" for USA, ".ca" for Canada, ".nl" for Nederlands, etc.) If it still doesn't work than shoot, idk how to help there. That's an Amazon issue.

And secondly, I will be releasing a Kindle ebook version soon! Just taking some time to breathe since I started two new jobs, and I also wanna write a bit before I do the ebook formatting (because it's different than paperback formatting). I didn't have it ready because I was gonna leave it for free on AO3 but that caused problems with Amazon so I took it down.

I will be releasing the ebook in May and probably for a super low price because I'm not really concerned about earning any major profits. All profits will be donated to my grocery funds for me and my gecko son, Gregory. He loves his crickets and I love...food in general, lmao (:

Thanks so much for your support. It means a lot to me knowing that people are liking the story!

#alexander hamilton #john laurens #pebs rambles #historical lams #amrev #little lavender #book update

[equestrianheart]

ok, humour me for a minute.

this isn’t a fix it fic, it’s more of a fix it episode synopsis.

if i could write my own silly little perfect ending: it would mostly be the same up until jack defeats chuck in 15x19.

then, amara becomes god. she is benevolent and she’s caring and she’s everything chuck wasn’t. like jack does in the real episode, she closes her eyes and all the people who got dusted come back. à la avengers endgame with clint’s wife, we know because sam’s phone rings, and its a facetime call from eileen. the relief in his voice is unmatched as he answers.

back at the bunker, dean is first in the door and thunders down the steps. he’s almost afraid to hope, but there he is. standing in the middle of the library, is castiel. he looks bashfully at the man he so clearly loves.

“hello, dean.”

THEN

15x20. its got a “road so far” segment, god damn it.

it’s a jump five years in the future. it’s 2025, we’re at a house, it seems to be out in the country, under a wide blue sky. they have a barn, which appears to be all set up for a wedding, with white chairs and a flower arch. there is no exposed rebar in this barn.

they come inside to a house bustling with people. the camera pans through the warm home, everyone is hugging each other, all dressed to the nines. bobby. charlie and stevie. jody, alex, donna, claire and kaia. rowena has come up from hell and crowley is also there because idk his mom is the queen of hell and i’ve just decided that in my perfect episode he was resurrected at some point. garth and his family are there. donatello. the GHOSTFACERS are there! becky and her family are there. mrs butters came back from her forest for the occasion! adam is there, since he was killed by chuck and brought back by amara.

the next scene is in one of the bedrooms, and the brothers are both in suits. sam is fixing dean’s bowtie. there’s a closeup of his hand—he has a wedding band on already. it’s not his wedding!? dean looks nervous.

“tell me honestly sam—is it too much? should i change my pocket square? what do you think about these shoes...”

“dean. shut up. you’re freaking out. just breathe.”

the music slows down, all emotional and we get a monologue that i probably can’t come up with now, but sam tells dean all the things he’s done for him, how much he loves him. how hard they’ve fought together to get themselves to this point. how good it is to see dean so happy and in love. they hug. it’s beautiful.

dean leans back and looks at sam.

“my baby brother. I love you so much.”

the next scene, everyone is seated in the barn, ready for the wedding.

amara is revealed to be under the flower arch, ready to officiate, because who better to wed two lovers than god herself?

sam walks dean up the aisle, as an instrumental version of carry on my wayward son is played by a string quartet.

jack walks down the aisle next, and he is clearly the flower girl. he has a flower crown on (humour me) and he’s clumsily throwing flowers all around him. it’s adorable and amazing and kind of hilarious. he sits at the front, next to eileen and sam, who now has their little boy on his lap. jack gives a thumbs up to dean.

everyone turns for the big reveal.

castiel, dressed in the most handsome suit, walks up the aisle.

the music swells and we see dean’s face light up as we have a hundred times before, because he’s never tired of seeing his person. he is teary eyed and humbled and in love. cas reaches the arch.

“hello dean.”

“hi cas.” dean barely whispers.

amara begins, we’re gathered here today to join these two in holy etc etc.

when it comes times for vows, dean’s not always been great with words, and he keeps it short and simple, but it’s clear to anyone how much this means to him.

castiel brings the entire barn to tears with his. something about millennia spent observing humans and he never understood them. he never understood love, or loss, or want. only duty. but pulling one dean winchester out of hell would lead him on a renegade path, to defeat death, the devil and god just to keep loving him.

sam, still weeping, places his son on the ground, gently pushing him towards his uncles, saying “go on, bobby!”

he toddles over with the two rings. dean goes down to his level and takes the rings, giving him a hug. he adores his little nephew. cas puts a loving hand on his head and bobby looks up. cas signs “thank you” to him. cas and dean exchange rings.

“you may now kiss the angel!” amara exclaims.

dean dips cas back and we get the most incredible, passionate kiss. the crowd cheers, (miracle barks), and dean looks at his husband.

“I love you.”

the song ends, and they run out of the barn, hand in hand, showered in confetti by their friends and found family.

the next scene is the first dance, and it’s just got to be “I can’t help falling in love with you”, hasn’t it? they waltz, and the crowd is out of focus in the background. all that matters right now is these two and their love.

dean looks up and the camera follows his eye-line, lingering on one of the barn walls, which has been adorned with pictures of all their friends they’ve lost. the picture of them all at bobby’s house with jo and ellen. pictures from the day they went LARPing with original charlie. a picture of cas and gabriel. the picture of sam, dean and their parents from the bunker.

cas turns and looks too.

“theyre with us, dean.”

more wedding scenes...

castiel throws the bouquet and charlie catches it, looking at stevie and waggling her eyebrows. jack is dancing with little bobby, because they’re both adorable babies. crowley and rowena have some pretty slick moves on the dance floor, because duh. adam hugs his brothers.

dean and cas cut into the cake, which is of course not a cake but a huge PIE!

the last scene is the brothers sitting on the impala bonnet, having a beer together. it’s clearly late in the night, and you can hear the crickets, and the sound of the party dying down in the barn behind them.

dean throws an arm around his brother, pulling him close.

“we did it, sammy. it was you and me against the world, and we did it.”

Fade out

THE END

OBVIOUSLY this is a completely naive disney style happily ever after, but let me have my fun god damn it!!!! if i was ever so inclined, i’d fic it. maybe some day!

#this is from my phone notes so the spacing is all fucked sorry #spn #supernatural #spn fix it #15x19 fix it #15x20 #15x20 fix it #destiel #destiel wedding #barn #carry on #spn happily ever after #castiel #Sam winchester #dean winchester #flower girl jack is so cute to me #saileen