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Summary
Camilla Sinclair's current top concerns are as follows:
-Stay alive
-Try to find the kid
-Get better at shooting guns
-Don't think about dead family
-Look into Mayor of Goodneighbor as a possible asset
-Pizza, is a pizza too much to ask for?If you're looking for something more poetic, so is she.
Bookmarked by Goawayeveryone
28 Jan 2026
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Looking for change, Capitol florist Junie takes up a vaguely too-good-to-be-true offer left on the bulletin board of her local adventurer’s guild and moves to a long-neglected farm in Mistria. She finds herself immediately woven into the warm fabric of the town’s people, with one exception. The town’s handsome but sour blacksmith who wants nothing to do with her. But behind his frosty exterior, through all their barbed interactions, Junie begins to see a softer man underneath. A man that maybe, just maybe, she could love.
Bookmarked by Goawayeveryone
02 Jul 2025
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"Who you didn’t expect to be there is March, who catches your gaze and looks just as surprised as you do that you’re here.
“Don’t tell me, you’re the one who took up Balor’s request?”"
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in which the farmer and march take up a request to make a delivery to the capital.
Bookmarked by Goawayeveryone
30 Jun 2025
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“I know what I want.”
March smirks without amusement. “And what’s that?”
Mel is silent for a moment. Then, quiet but firm. “An apology,” she says.
He rolls his eyes and talks over her, voice increasing in volume as he goes. “I’m not going to fucking apologize for telling you how it –”
She continues on, still soft. Interruption on interruption. “For Henrietta.”March loses words.
~
What happens when the blacksmith and the new farmer of Mistria have a row in the morning, only to find each other at an intimate game night that evening?
An agreement to disagreement, and a bet to behave. (Almost) a year of unresolved sexual tension.
Also, a love letter from me, the author, to all the characters.It's Fields of Mistria (Early Access), baby!
Bookmarked by Goawayeveryone
28 Jun 2025
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As he stared at Tav, who was quietly organizing her pack by the fire, his half-formed thoughts and ideas suddenly crystallized into a cold, perfect plan. He’d seduce her, romance her, make her feel like she was the only girl in the world. And after he had given her the night of her life, positively ruined her for anyone else, he’d begin whispering in her ear. He’d become her lover, her confidant. And then she would become his puppet. That was more than a fair trade. He’d have a gorgeous meal, his space would be guaranteed in their little group, at the top where he belonged, and then somehow, he didn’t know how, but, somehow, Tav would waltz their merry band back to Baldur’s Gate and drive a stake right through Cazador Szarr’s heart. For him. Afterwards, well, Tav had served her purpose. Then he could truly do as he pleased.
Astarion smiled a wide, real smile and finished his wine, wincing at the cheap, bitter taste.
At that moment Tav looked up from her supplies and caught him staring. He raised his empty goblet to her and she waved back, a warm smile softening her lovely features.
This was going to be so easy.
Bookmarked by Goawayeveryone
21 Jan 2024
