#Charm my sweet little goblin-

[lil-bobcatz]

✯MAJIN CHARM FUN FACTS✯

❥ - They're 5'8ft! But they can shrink themselves to be smaller!(Kinda like Nezuko from ds!)- This smaller form is 5'2ft or smaller! ^^

❥ - Goes by any pronouns! (They see really no point in being labeled as one thing, So they do not mind listening to people bicker about what they are)

❥ - SELECTIVE MUTE. They use sign language to communicate most of the time! However if someone doesn't understand it they always have a trick or two up their sleeve to help!

❥ - LOVES, and I mean L O V E S Strawberries! Offer em one and they'll be your best friend!

❥ - Super big cuddle bug with those they like and are comfortable with!

❥ - Also very affectionate, Platonic kisses are very big with this one!(Kisses will always be on the cheek, forehead or being formal, a kiss on the hand.)

❥ - The neck piece they wear is fur that they acquired from a creature they encountered a long time ago! It's super soft and they only let people they like touch it-(and if they REALLY like you, They'll let you/make you rest your head on it! Uber plush and comfy-)

❥ - Major stinker. If they find someone they think would be fun to mess with, They're NOT leaving that person alone for a good while till they find someone else to go pester-(Examples: Piccolo or Vegeta LOL)

❥ - VERY hyper when it comes to any form of rough housing/fighting, Literally bouncing off of walls and anything sturdy enough.

❥ - When they consider someone as a friend, they have two main offerings for friendship. Bells or fresh strawberries! Accept either and you'll have this lil jester as a possible bestie.

❥ - Very big fan of being picked up. Their favorite ways of being picked up are Princess/bridal style, Piggy back and under the arm-

❥ - Usually always smiles, Kind of a Rengoku situation ya' know?

-------------

All that I got for now! If I have more facts I'll probably update this and maybe repost it!

But yeems! Facts of my crack baby Charm💜

(Also enjoy this lil dooble of em!)

[hazelfoureyes]

before i never really interacted with blogs(cuz anxiety and very toxic friends had my tumblr, who ive gotten rid of now) but now i literally interact with every post bc of you, you are god and i will worship you, your smut is poetic af and has my legs SHAKING(.literally.)

i am ON MY KNEES❗

also, alastor and his rivals(vox or lucifer) x reader smut? like i know alastor would be petty asf and have them watch as he fucks the living out of their beloved, im curious, do you have any ideas regarding that?(cuz your ideas are delicious and im hungry for that)

You’ve left me speechless which is quite the accomplishment, Darling. I am just a little goblin! Or like the tooth fairy, but instead of teeth I take praise and instead of money I leave filthy smut 🥺 I am so glad you removed the toxic friends and are interacting more. 💖 you deserve better and your interactions are a joy. Thank you for brightening my day! I am so far away and yet you’ve got me blushing like a fool.

oooh yes okay so! Here’s some ideas 👀

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊👑₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Energy for me is Lucifer: Here to please. Alastor: Here to win. I imagine Luci brings you to the hotel for Charlie’s Birthday party, already having a precious casual fling once or twice before. All the guests are there, everyone is dancing and drinking and having a good time. Alastor notices how you call him Luci, how Lucifer cant keep his cool when you lean closer to him when you speak. Naturally, Alastor sees an opportunity to fuck with Lucifer so he asks for a dance. He is uncharacteristically sweet and loving, willing to do anything to get under the king of hell’s skin. He changes the music to something slow, holding you close he whispers in your ear during your dance, “How can any man maintain composure around you? I feel my manners slipping through my fingers every time you look my way.” When you leave the party to cool down, Alastor follows, finding you in an empty room trying to decompress. “Would you hate me if I kissed you? Be forewarned, once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop…”

Lucifer walks in to see you absolutely melting under Alastor, lipstick smeared and face flushed. But Luci adores you, your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s compelled to stay and watch, even as Alastor makes you moan and scream his name. “Who do you belong to, sweetheart?” “Whose cock are you made for?” You’re reduced to incoherent babbling by the time Alastor is finished toying with Lucifer. Lucifer can’t take it anymore and finds himself crawling onto the bed to swallow your moans and shower you in praise.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊🖥️₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

I can see Vox bringing his beloved personal assistant to an overlord meeting for note taking, and Alastor notices your glances to him. Vox adores you, and is always on his best behavior around you to impress you. Alastor waits for you outside of Vee Tower that night for a “chance run in”. “What luck! Allow me to buy you a drink, as a welcome to hell.” Charms you as any good southern boy could, and suggests you both go back to your office for privacy. Knowing full well Vox has cameras all over the office, Alastor fucks Vox’s assistant on his desk while maintaining eye contact with the massive collection of screens there. Vox catches sight of this while skimming through the feeds but can’t break away from the video. Alastor keeps your back to the displays while bouncing you on his cock, smirking at Vox the entire time as he leans back on his desk chair. Vox is seething and finally rushes to his office to find Alastor gone and you lying on your back, still out of breath and cum dripping onto the desk.

Vox keeps you, but gets rid of the desk. He can’t let Alastor have the satisfaction of making him lose his prized employee. For weeks after, while zoning out in board meetings, his screen flashes images of Alastor smirking from over your shoulder as you ride him. He’s entirely unaware that it’s happening and everyone is too scared to tell him.

[descendant-of-truth]

If I may throw my hat into the ring here, I think the source of a lot of problems in the writing of Miraculous can be boiled down to its confusion over its target demographic.

There are two very clear audiences the show is trying to cater to:

Grade school girls around 5-10

Teens/young adults around 15-20

And this results in some. unique conflicts in the show's internal logic.

Because it's a superhero show for little kids, it's full of fun, bright colors, wacky villain-of-the-week designs, and the characters are all very straightforward with exaggerated personality traits. The cheerful, clumsy, scatterbrained girl protagonist, her utterly charming and goofy (but slightly clueless) love interest, her cool best friend, her mean bully, etc.

This extends to the romance; the show is so comedic that Marinette's nervous crush and Cat Noir's flirting are played up for laughs. Their more "problematic" behaviors read as cartoon shenanigans first and foremost, which I do think was the intention - they're both shown as being more than a little ridiculous for acting this way, so they're not exactly trying to encourage people to emulate them. They're allowed to be genuinely wholesome, too, because it's nice to give the kids something to go "aww!" at, but it's not meant to be more complicated or deep than that.

And of course, it's gotta follow a sweet and simple episodic formula! A conflict in Marinette's civilian life, an inciting incident to get a side character upset enough for Hawk Moth to turn into a villain, Ladybug and Cat Noir show up, there's fun banter, Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm to figure out a wacky solution to the problem, and boom! The day is saved, Marinette and/or someone else learns a moral, and we get a cute little end screen showing all the key players of the episode.

The one aspect of the show's setup that's a little more serious is the fact that Adrien has a super controlling and distant father, but even this is something that doesn't necessarily break the kid-friendly tone for the first season or two. Superhero shows in particular like to put in some stuff that's a little more emotionally challenging for the viewers, even when they're mostly comedic, so it's not totally out of place here.

For example, while they tend to have more grounded tones overall, Spider-Man cartoons are aimed at kids and regularly keep the conflict between Harry Osborn and his father, Norman, intact; often including the plot point of Norman being the Green Goblin, a notorious villain. It's a similar deal with Adrien, and his dad secretly being Hawk Moth.

You can easily anticipate drama coming from this, but the show primes you to expect it to work out fine in the end because every other conflict so far has been wrapped up in a nice little bow once the episode's over. Though I will say, the choice to have Hawk Moth be Gabriel instead of his own, separate character is perhaps the first sign of the tone shift to come.

And, uh. it sure is a shift.

See, Miraculous does not start out with what you'd call a... plot. It vaguely alludes to there being more going on behind the scenes, but the only thing it really tries to get you invested in is the Love Square dynamic. Marinette and Adrien dancing around each other while fighting crime IS the plot, and it's clearly going to end with a cool final confrontation with Hawk Moth.

You expect it to end like... well, like the movie. Identities are revealed, Gabriel realizes the error of his ways when he finds out he's been fighting his son this whole time, and they may or may not make up but he almost definitely gets arrested. Marinette and Adrien kiss, roll credits.

This is not what happens, because the plot the writers actually had in mind is complex in a way that I would argue is meant for the same audience as YA novels. And with that plot comes a lot of darker, weightier traits to these otherwise silly characters.

Marinette isn't just scatterbrained and nervous, she has debilitating anxiety and an increasing need to be in control of everything due to the stress she's under. She has panic attacks on-screen. She's not just great at strategizing, she also knows how to manipulate people, and does so with increasing frequency - and to Cat Noir at times, no less. Her positive traits haven't gone anywhere, she's still loving and creative and sweet and doing her best to help everyone she can, she just. has all of that other stuff going on, now.

Adrien isn't just a charming, goofy, clueless love interest with a gazillion skills and a controlling father, he's like. actively being abused, and in some cases straight-up mind controlled. His tendency to heroically sacrifice himself so that Ladybug can do her Cool Protagonist Thing is gradually but unmistakably reframed as being a sign of suicidal inclinations. He has identity issues out the wazoo and he doesn't even know he's an artificially created human yet, because everyone in his life is keeping secrets from him and/or lying to his face about crucial information.

Information like, uh. how his dad died???

Yeah, so we're at a point in the story now where there was no satisfying conclusion to the Gabriel plot, no team-up, no moment where he realizes he's been fighting his son, none of that. He still has something akin to a change of heart, but he also still kind of gets what he wants - the Miraculous of the Ladybug and Black Cat, which he uses to rewrite the universe with a wish. It's just that instead of reviving his wife, he trades his life for Natalie's. Of course, he was already dying anyway, which was his own fault but he did force Cat Noir's Cataclysm onto himself, so, that's another thing poor Adrien is going to have to deal with at some point.

And because there's all these astronomically messed up things in Adrien's life, and Marinette's the one who got to learn about all of it before him, she decides that maybe it would be better if he just. didn't know about it. Which is understandable, if I was 14 and had all this information about my boyfriend's life that he didn't, I wouldn't know how to begin telling him about it, either.

But. can you see how we've maybe lost the plot, here?

Here's the thing: starting with a simple framework and gradually getting more complex and subverting the audience's expectations for how the main villain is going to be dealt with is not a bad thing. The fact that it gets darker over time is not an issue. I actually think that all these developments are, themselves, pretty cool! I'm a sucker for angst and complex character dynamics and the show is absolutely giving me those things.

The problem is that it didn't just start with a simple framework, it started with the framework for a different demographic entirely, and perhaps just as importantly, it never actually... stopped.

For as much complexity and intensity they're injecting this story with, they're still working under the logic of it being "for young kids." We still get goofy villain-of-the-week designs with equally goofy motivations, and the supporting cast is stuck remaining two-dimensional no matter their circumstances. Chloe is the most blatant example of this - she was made to be a simple bully first, so no matter what else they do with her, she has to remain straightforwardly evil.

This, I think, is the reason that Gabriel is a more nuanced and "sympathetic" antagonist than her, and why so much care goes into Adrien's character as a victim of abuse while Chloe is just a Problem Child despite suffering similar neglect; she wasn't made to be interesting, and so the show is resistant to changing that. Gabriel and Adrien, however, were already made with nuance in mind, and so they're allowed to develop as characters. And at the same time, it's a kid's show! We need to teach the kids what kind of behavior is acceptable, and Chloe's home life isn't an excuse to treat people badly, so--!

...Oh crap we're supposed to be teaching kids about acceptable behavior. Uh. Um. Quick, bring back the ice cream akuma who cares way too much about his ships so that Cat Noir can learn about consent! Uhh, but don't change his character too much afterwards, he's only marketable because of his silly flirting, and we can't lose that.

Yeah, remember when I said that the romance having problematic elements to it used to work well enough because it was clearly just exaggerated cartooniness? It wasn't free from criticism or anything, but you could see how it was intended to be endearing and silly, right? You were supposed to point and laugh at Marinette's convoluted plans to spend time with Adrien, at Cat Noir's dramatic flirting attempts that Ladybug herself fondly rolled her eyes at.

The tonal shift into deep character exploration kinda paints the previous stuff in a worse light, and to an extent, I think the writers know that. It's hard to laugh at Cat Noir being flirty all the time when he's also supposed to be taken completely seriously, and the more Ladybug rejects him, the more it turns into harassment, and it. kinda just stops being funny, even with the comedic framing.

It's also hard to laugh at Marinette's crush being so all-consuming when they try to tell us (in what I can only assume was an attempt to get people to stop complaining) that she's like this because it's fueled by an event in her past, one that made her so scared of loving the wrong person that she now needs to know Everything about them before asking them out. Her cartoon antics aren't funny under that light, it's just concerning, but they're dedicated to keeping it up anyway.

The show runs on straightforward cartoon logic where you're not supposed to think about it too hard just as much as it runs on grounded, closer-to-real-life logic where people are messy and complicated and actions have consequences. It's so divided that you can hand-pick parts of the story that are influenced by one or the other pretty easily, and depending on the episode you can find instances of both in the same 20-minute time span. Maybe even multiple times!

Neither thing they're trying to go for is bad, and neither is a better approach than the other, but forcing them into the same show makes both sides suffer.

It's not just hard to laugh at the parts I mentioned earlier, it's hard to take Gabriel seriously as a villain whenever you rewatch an episode and remember that he has a once-per-episode pun-based speech that he says so self-seriously that you can't help but laugh at. It's hard to take him seriously when you remember that he repeatedly akumatized a Literal Baby and practically threw a tantrum every time it didn't work, or when he randomly steals (and enthusiastically performs) his nephew's musical dance number, or something similar that you would only do for a cartoon villain aimed at five-year-olds.

And I can only imagine this whole show is a marketing nightmare, too. Hey, little girls, here's your cool role model! She's cute and smart and talented and powerful and can fix anything by shouting the title of the show! Hope you're having fun watching her tell her boyfriend that his newly-deceased father (who used deepfakes of him to sell merchandise that's built to enslave the population and then locked him in a solitary confinement chamber in another country) was actually a hero who sacrificed himself to stop the main villain instead of, y'know, being the main villain! Aren't you excited to watch her wrestle with the guilt of this lie for the next season or so? Doesn't it just make you want to buy her merchandise??

Like. what is even happening right now. what am I watching. how did we get here and why did we start where we did if this was what the story was going to be about

[morelikeravenbore]

✨Sebastian Sallow Spicy Oneshots.

In the interest of ✨aesthetics✨, I'm compiling all my spicy oneshots together to link back to my masterlist. I'm a turtle writer but I'll update this list as I write more. All stories crossposted to wattpad & AO3.

Sebastian Sallow x unnamed female character. Mostly Sebastian's POV. Triggers and content warnings on each post. All characters are 18+. Minors dni, please and thank you. 🔞

Friendly disclaimer: if you're uncomfortable with Hogwarts Legacy smut, please keep scrolling and do not engage ✨🦋💙 I am of the opinion that it is possible to use ones ✨imagination✨ to age-up characters and explore adult themes in a healthy and appropriate way.

✨ Pandora's Book | Explicit | Unhinged Sebastian | Objectophilia | ongoing.

Seeking distraction from his interminable apathy, or a temporary relief from his guilt that didn't resort to obliterating his own memory, the girls he took made him feel good, said pretty things that made him believe, for a while, that he wasn't broken and irredeemable. But then, issues of that nature were likely a job for St Mungos rather than some girl's mouth in the back of a disused classroom, and over time, the thrill of mindlessly fucking his pain away began to dull, and he recoiled from their sweet nothings and gentle affections; like everything else in Sebastian's life, even the flames of desire eventually turned cold, and his escapades became less about feeling better and more about feeling anything.

Still, he couldn't say with any measure of truth that he'd felt anything like this from a book before.

✨ Good Boy | Explicit | Needy Sebastian 1.5k words.

On bad days like these, Sebastian simply couldn't believe in love until it held him close and kissed him and told him he wasn't the deplorable monster he believed himself to be. Love had always evaded him, but by some stroke of luck he wasn't deserving of, he'd found it living in the body of the girl currently squashed between him and the wall.

✨The Final Goblin | Explicit | Post-battle Sebastian 1.5k words.

Ordinarily such a demure little thing, whenever Sebastian's brilliant, powerful girlfriend unleashed her gift of destruction upon their enemies, it broke something inside his brain - as if all that raw power she tore from the ether went straight to his cock, turning him feral.

✨Tethered | Explicit | Imperio-kink Sebastian [dub-con] 1.3k words

Sebastian wasn't entirely sure why he'd used the unforgivable curse on her. He had no doubt he could've convinced her to do whatever he wanted quite easily; after all, getting what he desired came naturally to him, what with his Slytherin charm and all - but there was always the risk she'd shudder away from him, repulsed by his touch as if she could physically feel his tainted soul marring her perfect skin. For all his bravado and over-confidence, Sebastian wasn't sure he could bear it if she recognised him for what he really was: a monster.

✨Lessons in Upholstery | Mature | Sebastian is needy | Sebastian x Aurélie 1.6k words

There was a unique ache that existed when she was out of reach — one that started as a small hole in his chest before spreading rapidly until his entire being felt hollow, an ache that demanded they share a too-small bed so they had to sleep tangled together, or eat at a too-small kitchen table so she had to take most of her meals sitting in his lap.

✨ You can also read my long-fic How to Make a Villain which isn't spicy but is full of mutual pining, yearning, slow-burning idiots in love: 📔 [tumblr |wattpad | ao3]

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Present - D. M. x gn!Reader

A/N: Have a little Draco fic as a treat 💛 It’s unedited with no use of Y/N

CW: Probably ooc Draco; Draco being a cheesy softie; gift-giving; a bit of arguing; lying; teensy bit of emotional manipulation; Draco’s bad spending habits; ‘I love you’s; fluff

508 words

“Draco, what is this?”

Your boyfriend looks up from his book, his expression brightening at the sight of you. “It’s your birthday gift, love.”

You’re holding the equivalent of a muggle fortune. A leather bracelet, studded with tiny diamonds and jewels, with a single elegant charm carved out of pure crystal.

You stare at Draco, struggling to wrap your mind around his words. “My… birthday present…?”

He nods and puts down his book. “I had Mother request the goblins to make it, so it won’t ever break. They enchant their crafts, or something.”

He gets up and walks over to you, plucking the bracelet from your hands and unfastening it. He takes your hand, stroking his thumb along your palm as he does so.

You shiver a little at the light touch. “It looks like it cost a fortune.”

Draco blushes a little as he slips the bracelet onto your wrist. “It wasn’t that expensive, darling. Just a month’s worth of allowance.”

You squint suspiciously at him. “A month’s worth? And how much is that?”

He blushes a little more and looks away. “Oh, only about a couple hundred galleons or so. It is dragonhide leather, after all.”

Your jaw drops. “A couple hundred galleons?! Draco Lucius Malfoy!”

He flushes red. “It’s not that big of a deal! Besides…”

He trails off, and you cross your arms. You’re more incredulous than upset, but it still seems like a big deal.

“…You’re worth all the galleons in the world.”

This makes you pause. You stare at him, inwardly melting at the cheesy but clearly genuine words. Finally, you sigh and look down.

“Draco?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

He smiles and moves to speak, but you hold up a hand. “I love you, but you have to stop spending your money on me.”

He shifts from foot to foot. “Okay.”

You give him a suspicious look. He flushes a bit. An instant tell.

“You’re just gonna spend the money on me and not tell me, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it,” he says defensively. “I see things I think you’d like and well, they don’t cost that much, so I have to get them for you.”

“It’s several hundred galleons!”

He wilts a little and gives you a sad look. “But you like it, right?”

You bite your tongue and look down at the bracelet. It’s quite charming, if you’re being honest. And the sentiment behind it is quite sweet.

After a moment, you sigh. “Of course I like it, Draco. I just wish you’d spend your money on better things.”

He leans in to give you a kiss, his words firm and unwavering. “There’s nothing better than you, my love.”

His words make you melt a bit, and you accept the kiss. It’s soft and sweet. Almost enough to make you forget about being frustrated in the first place.

“You, Draco Malfoy,” you say, taking his hands in yours. “are ridiculously cheesy. But I love you for it.”

He grins and gives you another kiss. “I love you too.”

[namiusedbubble]

When they have a crush on you

SEBASTIAN SALLOW:

☠️  Sebastian is not the type to hide his crush. Even before he figures it out, everyone around him will know because of how differently he’ll treat you compared to everyone else.

☠️  He’s charming and friendly towards you, which happens to be his biggest tell as he can be quite snappy and temperamental to anyone who interrupts him.

☠️  He tends to become hyper-focused on things, whether it be spending hours with his head buried in a book or diligently searching spider-infested catacombs for a dark relic, there is no stopping him until he gets what he wants. That naturally extends to wooing you.

☠️  Suddenly he’ll find any and all reasons to spend time with you. Oh, you’re good at Herbology? It just so happens that Sebastian is in desperate need of a tutor! Oh, you’re a good duelist? Please help me take down this goblin camp real quick before meeting my family Why don’t you join this exclusive little dueling club I’m in? 

☠️  Not only does he want to spend as much time with you as possible, he also wants to be as close as physically possible without crossing any of your boundaries. He’ll push you behind him when facing enemies, he’ll constantly lean against things with his arm next to your head, and he’ll offer his hand to help you up and down ledges or off your broom.  

☠️  He has a jealous streak, so if he sees you becoming particularly close with anyone he deems a potential romantic threat, he’ll insert himself into the situation and either make an excuse to pull you away or pout and glare until the other person becomes uncomfortable enough that they’ll excuse themselves just to get away from him.

☠️  In any case, I don’t imagine you’ll remain in the “crush zone” for very long. Sebastian can hardly go five minutes around you without saying too much or revealing his or someone else’s secrets, let alone try to keep his feelings hidden when they grow every day you spend with each other.

OMINS GAUNT:

🐍  Ominis is a bit more subtle in his affections than Sebastian. It will take him a while before he approaches you, just so he can be sure he actually wants to pursue you and it isn’t just a fleeting crush. 🐍  He’ll sit near you, but not next to you, in classes and at meal times. He likes hearing your voice as you chat to your friends or make snide remarks about the professors when you think nobody is listening. Sebastian will often catch him smiling at seemingly nothing whenever you’re around. 🐍  You’re both desperately trying to keep yourselves awake in History of Magic one day when Ominis makes a witty comment at the expense of Binns, and he’s floored when you laugh next to him, quietly leaning over to share your own comments about the professor’s riveting tale about another centuries old wizarding war. 🐍  From that day on, Ominis went out of his way to make you laugh. Whenever he’d find you in-between classes, he would sit next to you on the bench and make passing remarks about the other students. It seemed he knew everything about everyone and had something to say about all of it, and you found his little quips absolutely hilarious. You’d always thought Ominis Gaunt was a refined, quiet gentleman, yet here he was tearing into Leander Prewett with no remorse and telling first years that the giant squid liked to feast on children walking too close to the lake. 🐍  He would be so sweet to you, doting, even. If you’d had a particularly stressful week catching up on assignments or running errands for everyone and their dog, Ominis would offer to keep breakfast for you so you could sleep for just a few minutes longer. When he notices you rushing about the castle, he’d stop you to ask if you’d taken a break that day and if you’d like to accompany him to the library for a spot of light reading. On the various occasions you’d come back injured, he would offer you his arm as a way to keep you steady. Eventually, offering you his hand or arm becomes second nature and you’ll find yourselves walking like that even when there’s no need to support you physically. 🐍  I think it would take a long time before Ominis admits his feelings. He enjoys the safety of the courting stage because his family are less likely to involve themselves. He’s also afraid you’ll reject a serious relationship with him because of their reputation and behaviour. He might huff and puff about how it’s a gentleman’s responsibility, but he’d secretly appreciate if you were the one to make the next move.

GARRETH WEASLEY:

🧪  I imagine Garreth would have to be friends with someone before he develops a crush on them. 🧪  While this social butterfly could easily make friends with a wall, that doesn’t mean he knows how to flirt with one. He’s so subtle with his intentions that it’s easy to assume he’s just being his regular, friendly self.

🧪  He would take a break from his experiments to brew you an endless supply of Wiggenweld potions for your adventures. He knew you were capable of handling yourself, but he worries about you and wants to help in any way he can.

🧪  He’d make it a point to accompany you around the castle, offering to carry your books or help with extra assignments. He’d refrain from using you as a guinea pig, but he would ask you to help him find ingredients for various potions, sometimes even at strange hours of the night. Most of the time, he has no use for the things he is asking for, he just wants to spend time with you.

🧪  Despite the Weasleys not having a lot of money, Garreth would always offer to treat you to a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks. He often buys (and occasionally swipes) bags of your favourite sweets from Honeydukes, even though he isn’t partial to them himself. He thinks he’s being subtle by asking you to share, but it doesn’t escape your notice that he never takes a single one, instead leaving them all to you.

🧪  Garreth eventually confesses his feelings to you while drunk on the effects of Felix Felicius. He had been trying to brew it for you, knowing you had a particularly difficult mission ahead, but he had to try it first to make sure it wouldn’t turn you purple or make you break out in boils.

AMIT THAKKAR:

⭐  This poor boy somehow manages to be both a stuttering and word vomiting mess around you.  

⭐  One minute he is telling you all about the great tales he plans to write, how Binns will be assigning his books to every student at Hogwarts by the end of the decade, and then you’ll give him that smile and he’s suddenly blushing and stuttering uncontrollably.  

⭐  He’s most comfortable around you at night, when the stars are there to calm his nerves. This is when you’ll get to see the true Amit, the cute, gentle boy who will point constellations out to you for hours if you’re interested. Although he’d much prefer to find real constellations and their associated imagery, you can occasionally rope him into a silly game of ‘connect the stars’, only because he loves the way your face brightens when you vaguely recognise a mooncalf or niffler dotted in the sky. 

⭐  He is incredibly intelligent, so if you ever need help with a subject, you can rest assured that Amit is more than willing to offer you (and only you) his tutoring services, free of charge! ⭐  Amit is 100% going to support you in all of your endeavors, regardless of how much interest he has in them himself. You play on the Quidditch team? He’ll be at every single practice session to cheer you on. You enjoy ballroom dancing in a room full of dead people? He’s now practicing in his common room every night so he won’t step on your feet (Go to sleep Amit, it’s three in the morning!). You name it, he’ll be there, probably reading a theory book about the history of the hobby. ⭐  It might take him ages, but he will 100% confess to you in the cheesiest way possible. Maybe it will be through an original poem personally delivered to you by owl, or maybe it will be through spelling “I  ❤️ U” in the stars. Regardless, he’ll make sure you’ll be melted into a puddle by his sweetness.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Every Perfect Curve

George Weasley x Chubby Reader

You had given birth to your sweet little Freddy a while ago. While finally having a moment to yourself, you can’t help but feel self conscious that you haven’t ’bounced back’ like so many others have. George is there to remind you that you are just stunning. Even if you never ‘bounce back’ as they say

Warnings: 16+, Body Dysphoria, Trans Masc coded but over all discussion of weight gain, flirting, sexual content ((no sex)) nursing, postpartum, After The Deathly Hallows Content, Pregnancy

Writing Coms Open

“This used to fit-!” You sniffled, as you were fighting with your body. Trying so hard to get your pants on. You haven’t worn pants since your second trimester. You wanted to wear pants again, but it doesn’t seem like that will happen. You couldn’t even get them past your thighs. It was so frustrating, how much weight you had gained.

“Jellybean, you just had a baby. You think Mum is built like a string bean like the kids she popped out?” George tried to explain, as he was undoing his suit jacket. So happy to have the work day done with, and finally spend some time with his family. You, little Freddy, and Bill with his own pregnant wife.

Since after the war, Bill figured to return back to Gringotts. Stable job, close to George, well paying, and those goblins actually gave him medically paid vacation leave for every time the week of the full moon was coming. It was perfect. Also, he won’t lie, was nice to have a part time job at WWW. Everything was perfect, besides well….The hormones.

“But she had seven kids! I just had one-!” You sniffled. Luckily, George was a fourth kid of seven. He knows a thing or two about someone with hormones. Especially ones with postpartum. Molly had caught some after Ron, funny enough. He knew not to poke the bear, too much.

Before he could stop you, you were already crying. “I’m so fat-! Look at my chest! Look at my thighs! I’m covered in stretch marks, and I can’t wear clothes right anymore! I’m bigger than a inflatus charm! How can you even stand the sight of me?!” You sobbed, as those hormones were just destroying your head space. He let you scream it out, having long since casted a silencing charm on your shared bedroom. Just letting you scream it out. Better out than in.

“Jellybean-“ He cooed, as he would leave himself in his dress shirt now. He would sneak behind you, and wrapped his arms around your stomach. Happily tracing over your stretch marks, and resting his head on yours. Just looking into the mirror, and seeing you struggle. Wet tears and all. He didn’t see what you saw. He saw someone he loved. Every inch of you was devine. Every stretch mark, roll, and sag. That was you.

“Jeans are uncomfortable anyway.” He tried to joke with you, as he scratched his finger on the rough denim. Going to make a disgusted face at the texture. Despite your tears, you couldn’t stop your smile. Damn him. He always found a way. You hated how he made you smile, as you now over thought. Were you crying for attention now? Were you making a big deal out of nothing? Luckily, your husband was quick to distract you from such scary thoughts.

“Come on. You like my pants anyway.” He added. Given how tall he was, the fabric was able to stretch around you easier. You didn’t even have a chance to argue, before he found a pair of his old pajama pants. You figured not to fight him, and soon sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled the jeans off, and helped you into the old soft fabric. Just pampering you. Kissing those newly soft features, and admiring you. Kissing that belly, that took care of your shared little boy. Admired those thighs, and appreciated those stretch marks from that hard working body.

“Much better?” He asked, as they were able to properly fit. Given the height, there was plenty of fabric over your stomach. Enough to even pull the plaid high enough to not drag on the ground. He even worked on making sure you had some nice warm socks, so you didn’t get chilly. Making sure you were as cared for as you deserved.

“Shut up.” You huffed, but he knew you were just frustrated with your body. He knew what that was like. Losing an ear sure makes life hell. If anyone can relate to hating your own body, it’s him. He would let you be frustrated, as he tried to make sure you were comfortable. Seems your top wouldn’t be next, as you two heard noises from the living room.

“ACK-! FLEUR HELP-!” Bill shouted, followed by the devious giggles of your son. Next were the sweet giggles of the Half Veela, as she was most likely working on saving her partial werewolf groom. The giggles of your son gave you a brief smile, but your eyes were on your body again.

“Hey, look at me-“ George would soon cup your face, so to make sure you stopped looking at yourself. “You have a body of a mother, a parent. All this squish was used to make sure our little boy was born happy and healthy.” He tried to reassure you, with a kiss to your lips. With his face with yours, he reached to his dress shirt. He took it off, and soon slipped it on you. He left it unbuttoned, so your sore breasts didn’t get more irritated. Yet still feel somewhat covered.

“And these-“ He gently touched said breasts, making sure to not irritated your sore nipples. “These are big because someone here eats like a Weasley. Playing with them more than me! That little bugger-“ And you laughed. He got you to laugh, and he was grinning with pride.

Speaking of hungry, a shrill cry was soon from the living room. “He eats like a Weasley alright-“ You sighed, but felt a bit more confident now. He was right. You were big because Freddy needed a lot of nutrients. Your breasts were large because he needed to eat a lot. Your body was built for your son to thrive. Being squishy wasn’t so bad. Right?

The both of you were quick to come to your living room, and soon seen Bill trying his best to distract Freddy from his hungry belly. Tickling him, and making little animal sounds. That seemed to entertain the little ginger, as he cooed. Fleur was even doing the same, as she sat with him. The wolf, and the harpy. Chirps and barks.

“His first words are going to be growls, knock it off-!” George would, playfully, say. That made them look over. Bill was quick to cover his eye, given the other one was blind, as to give you privacy. Despite the fact he had seen you nurse before. You still appreciated the gesture, regardless.

“Oh hush-“ Fleur tsked, before she would hoist herself up. Using the side of the couch for support, as so to make sure you had all the space on the couch to feed your son on. You wanted to tell her she didn’t have to, but she was in that Tri Wizard Tournament for a reason. She knows how to be strong.

“Come here, sweetie-“ You shushed, as Bill handed you your son. Those big eyes of his just glowing, and his chubby little fingers reaching for you. Your eyes, and George’s hair. Such a sweet thing. Seeing those chubby hands made you think about your chubby figure. Much like he will, you’ll out grow yours one day. If not? Well, least you know you’ll use it to make sure your son is taken care of. Because that soft body was soothing his upset stomach already. Just snuggled into your warm breasts.

“When will I get a turn?” George asked, as you smacked his shoulder. “Hey-!” He whined, as you rolled your eyes. You would soon be on the couch, and brought your legs up. Left to rest in your husbands lap, as Bill got you some pillows for your back. Your husband rubbing your feet, as you let Freddy nurse. Gentle with his fluffy ginger hair, and admiring him.

“Oh he is so handsome-“ Fleur cooed, as she watched. She was due any time now, as well. Having her watch you nurse was very useful for her. That also made you feel better. If you didn’t get so chubby, Fleur wouldn’t get to see what would happen with her. To see how much it helps with her soon to be child. Maybe being larger wasn’t as ugly as you thought. There was so much beauty in it. Beauty in using what you had to help others.

“Hungry thing.” Bill snorted, as his wife gently smacked his own arm. “If not for the hair, that appetite says Weasley all over it.” George echoed. You rolled your eyes, as your son kept nursing away. Needing to stuff his belly full. Was ages, but he finally was satisfied. With a cloth over your shoulder, you would gently burp him.

“He’s picking up signlaguge so quickly. Swear he will be better at it than me before he’s even two-!” George scoffed, but those eyes were sparkling. He was proud of his smart baby boy. “And soon French-“ Fleur echoed. “Arabic ain’t that bad-“ Bill tagged in. “And of course Romanian.” You vouched for Charlie. “Smart ass baby.” George snorted, before you kicked his thigh.

This moment was soothing. All just parents, together, with your children. Gentle learning for Fleur, and comfort. George was right. Your body was built for something. It was built to take care of your baby boy, and help Fleur learn how to treat her own baby. Being chubby wasn’t a sin. Just as much as being skinny and muscular had its benefits, so did being soft and squishy.

“There we go-“ You smiled, as he gave his little burp. “Much better, hm?” You smiled, as you would bring him to lay on your chest. Just like that, he was knocked out. Sleeping soundly, on your soft breasts. Listening to your heart beat, and able to take a well deserved nap.

“He got that from Fred. That was the only way we could tell you two apart. Whenever Fred was done feeding, he knocked right out. You? You got more energy, and got so excited you ended up throwing up.” Bill chuckled, as that seemed to comfort George. He missed his Fred, but knowing a part of him was still around made him smile. His hand ever so gentle on his son’s back, as he gently rubbed your own stomach. Admiring your stretch marks.

“This might be soon, but do you think-?” George questioned, as he kept tracing the indents in your skin. Another kid, already? You couldn’t blame him, though. He was a magical identical twin. The idea of growing up an only child sounded horrifying. Bro to mention big families is all he knew. Maybe…..

You looked to your sleeping son, and your own body. A smile crossed your lips, as you soon help George’s hand. “Plenty of nutrients for a round two, huh?” You joked. You were able to joke about your own body, and that cleared any worry George had. The two of you were financially fine, and had plenty of support.

He kissed your lips, before kissing your son’s head. A tiny little smile crossed those chubby little cheeks, and you had to wonder why you ever thought chubby cheeks could be so horrible. Your son had the prettiest cheeks around, and you hoped your next kid could have them all the same. Pretty, chubby, features.

[spookyjuicefiction]

Violets & Plums: Astarion/Tav, Part 4

A/N: Look at me updating and not completely abandoning a work! I literally have no plans for this chapter I'm just gonna freeball it and hope it gets where it should go. I read a really sad Ascended Astarion fic last night that I want to flush out of my brain by rambling on and on with fluff

Also Astarion and Shawdowheart are besties and helping each other work through some trauma

Masterlist Part 3

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Astarion emerged from trance sluggishly, feeling unusually well-rested. No nightmares clung to the backs of his eyes, and he was so warm.

He froze, suddenly alert.

He was never warm.

But she was.

His eyes snapped open and he took in the scene. The room looked stark in the morning light that cascaded through the skylight above; the previously flickering candles melted to stubs that dripped over the side of the bed table. And, of course, there was her. She took up most of the bed, her arms akimbo and hair splayed messily across the pillow. Her mouth hung open slightly, and she snored a little with each deep inhale. She was still shirtless; he took inventory of each scar and freckle dotted across the expanse of her skin. His limbs were tangled in hers, and he couldn't ignore the extra heat where his leg split hers open. Fuck.

They were so wound together that she stirred at even his slightest movement; he was trying to angle his morning excitement away from her hip.

"You better not be trying to get out of this bed."

Her voice was thick with sleep, eyes still closed as she yanked the blanket back up over their shoulders.

He chuckled awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He couldn't remember the last time he woke up in bed with someone. At once the warmth was both suffocating and intoxicating; he wanted to nestle back into her so badly, but he felt exposed and vulnerable in the sunlight. He tried to deflect.

"Darling, we have a very busy day today. There are so many goblins to kill! I should think you'd want plenty of time for your breakfast."

"I can have breakfast any day. I likely won't get to share a proper bed with you again until we reach Baldur's Gate, and I intend to enjoy it."

Astarion grinned in spite of himself. "Very bold of you to assume I'd jump into bed with you again. You must think you're quite the cuddle."

Smiling, she finally opened her eyes and looked into his. His stomach flipped at the expression they conveyed, all sweetness and sleepy desire.

"You wound me. And here I thought we had something special." She let out an overly dramatic sigh. "If you'd rather room with Gale in Baldur's Gate, I suppose I can understand. Just give me some time to get over it."

He was too weak to resist her. Her charming playfulness, her nudity, and her gentle hands on his shoulders were a heady mixture that his conscience simply couldn't contend with. He succumbed to the warmth, closing the distance between them with a hungry kiss that left them both a little breathless.

"If my only lodging option is Gale in the future," Astarion told her seriously, "I'm taking a page out of Lae'zel's book and swearing off beds altogether. I refuse to be the first person that dies in a Netherese orb explosion."

Giggling, she stroked his cheek and replied, "I swear to never make you bunk with Gale if you admit that I'm the best cuddle you've ever had."

Astarion rolled his eyes with exaggerated exasperation and she playfully slapped his cheek lightly, still giggling. "You bastard."

"Very well," he sighed, leaning forward and nuzzling his nose to hers in a way so a nauseatingly sweet he would certainly punish himself for it later, "you are the best cuddle I have ever had. And it's not even close." For once in his life, Astarion was telling the complete and entire truth.

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The saccharine mood from the morning cuddle hung over them both as they strapped into their armor, packed, and headed to the dining area to meet the others. Astarion felt he hid the giddiness better than she did by nodding stiffly to the table at large and heading to the corner to sharpen his daggers in solitude. Tav, on the other hand, greeted everyone with unbridled enthusiasm that had the entire table raising their eyebrows. Very subtle, Astarion mentally chastised her. But even he had trouble committing to the thought, warming at the idea that he might be the cause for her smile as she sat down and dug heartily into her breakfast. Mine.

It didn't surprise him when Shadowheart fell back to walk in step with him on the way to the goblin camp once they set out. She seemed determined to dig up gossip on whatever was going on between he and Tav.

"How was your evening?" she asked innocently. Astarion shot her a knowing look, and she chuckled.

"Lady Shar would be ashamed at my lack of subterfuge," she remarked. "Although I'm not nearly as bad as you and Tav."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Astarion's tone aimed for dismissive, but even he couldn't hold back a smile when Shadowheart snorted in return.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, and Astarion found that he did not entirely dislike the cleric's company. He wondered if she considered him a sort of friend, the way Tav did.

"Can I ask you something?" he surprised himself by asking her quietly.

"Sure," she answered, sounding a little surprised as well.

"You surrendered your memories to serve Shar. Do you ever..." he wasn't sure how to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue. "Are there times that you sort of.. clamp up? Like there's something you can't remember, but it... paralyzes you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he felt Shadowheart regard him. After a beat, she answered, "yes."

He looked to her now. Her fingers were brushing the black spot on the back of her hand that she claimed was an "old injury that acted up from time to time". She continued, "it sort of feels like my brain is resetting. Like I should be able to remember something, but it's blocked. It makes me feel..." she searched for the right word. "Afraid. Outside of myself."

"Hmm," Astarion hummed in reply. He found that he wanted to confide in her further. "It happened to me last night, when Tav and I... I became afraid, quite suddenly." He frowned at the memory. "I feel... ashamed."

"Astarion, if there is anyone who would never judge you, it's Tav," Shadowheart reminded him gently. "But I'm sorry that happened to you. And I'm sorry for whatever memory caused it." He felt her hand touch his wrist, and she gave him a little squeeze. In response, he lightly bumped his shoulder against hers.

"What a mess we all are," he sighed. They were approaching the edge of the goblin encampment now, and the pair dropped to a crouch in unison.

"Well, luckily there are plenty of goblin skulls to crush as therapy."

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"What kind of a name is Priestess Gut, anyway?!" Astarion yanked Tav behind a pillar as a flurry of arrows launched their way.

"That's what we all call you behind your back." She was panting as she chugged a quick healing potion and wiggled her fingers, willing electricity to buzz between them. The grand hall of the old Selunite temple was a mess; the group had managed to schmooze their way in and take out two leaders, but a guard had caught Karlach cracking a scrying eye against the stone wall and alerted the whole camp to their trickery.

"No no, that's what I call you after you pig out on sweetrolls after supper," he shot back through gritted teeth as he yanked arrows out of a dead body nearby. She shot him a wicked grin as the sparks between her fingers began crackling even bigger.

"Hang on, I've just had a thought!" Astarion plucked up a carafe from the ground nearby and flung it around the pillar, covering the ground with water. "Alright, sweetness, light them up."

She happily obliged, sending a current of pure electricity through the line of goblins in a chain reaction. The pair whooped excitedly as they ran forward, trying to catch up with Wyll and Lae'zel ahead.

"Watch out!" Shadowheart's panicked scream hit them too late; an arrow whizzed past Astarion's face. Looking up, he saw they'd missed a guard in the rafters, which he took out with a rapid arrow from his own bow.

"Little shit," he cursed, "come on-" but Tav had dropped to the ground next to him, slipping through his fingers as he tried too late to catch her.

"No, gods damn it, NO!" the rogue arrow was poking out of her shoulder, just above her heart. Her eyes were blinking rapidly as blood soaked her jerkin. Panic seized his heart as he tried to drag her out of the center of the room; the fight between Karlach, Gale and the last leader, Minthara, was spilling dangerously close to where Tav had fallen. Shadowheart was on the other side of the room shooting off shield spells, and Wyll and Lae'zell were rushing forward to join the fray.

What the fuck do I do? Tav was losing consciousness, and he needed to get her out of the way.

Suddenly, he remembered the ring Gale had pressed into his hand a few days before and the conversation that had ensued:

"Gale, what in the hells am I going to do with a Misty Step Ring? I don't even use magic."

"You have fey magic in you, Astarion. You never know when it could come in handy. Just hang onto it."

Astarion threw his arms around Tav and tried with everything in him to channel the power of the ring.

"Come on, fucking faerie magic," he grunted. I have to save her. He let out a scream as a white hot feeling crashed through him - and then they were gone.

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What if she's dead?

The question wouldn't stop ringing in Astarion's ears as he paced outside the door to the room in the temple they had deemed as the hospital ward. He didn't quite know how to feel about the question. Only days ago he swore he wouldn't have cared if Tav had fallen off a cliff, but now... everything had changed. When was the last time he'd lost someone? Someone that mattered?

"It was quick thinking, mate," Wyll said for what must have been the third time. The warlock was cleaning a scrape on his leg on a bench along the wall. "You did everything you could."

Astarion picked up a piece of rubble from the ground and threw it as hard as he could down the hall. He hadn't done enough. She could be dead.

Belatedly, it occurred to him that he hadn't once been distracted by her blood as he tried to stopper the wound. It almost unnerved him that the frenzy of his thirst had been overpowered by his panic over losing her. He wanted to smack his skull against the wall. His confusion over his suddenly strong feelings for her flavored his fear of losing her with extra nausea.

Finally, Shadowheart appeared in the doorway, wiping her bloody hands on a rag. "She's alive," she assured him quickly, assessing the pure panic in his eyes. "She's lost a lot of blood and will need some time to recover, but she'll pull through."

Astarion thought his knees might give out. "Is she awake? Is she in pain?" he tried to peer over the cleric's head to get a look into the ward. "Will it be alright through the night?"

"I promise, Astarion, I've done everything I can." Shadowheart looked exhausted - depleted, even. He wanted to hound her further, but he knew she was telling the truth. He hadn't forgotten their tender conversation from earlier in the day, and he was grateful to her for that and for tending to Tav.

"Can I see her?" he asked in a small voice. Shadowheart nodded, stepping out into the hallway and holding the door open for him. Astarion understood - this was the changing of the guard for the rest of the night.

He moved into the dimly lit room to take up his post and nearly shuddered at the sight. Tav was laid stiffly out on a table in a way that reminded Astarion of a body at the morgue, covered by a loose piece of cloth. Her tangled hair was pushed back over her head, and her forehead and upper lip were glistening with sweat. He hesitated for a moment before stepping back in the hall, asking Wyll to keep an eye on her for a few moments.

He returned to the tableside with a bucket of warm water, his bergamot soap, a sponge, a comb, and a clean set of loose clothing. He spent the next hour gingerly scrubbing the crusted blood and dirt off of her pretty skin and gently working through the tangles in her hair. He sat at the head of the table and worked the strands into an intricate braid pattern that he hadn't realized he even knew how to do. Hair-braiding was an intimate act amongst elves; he briefly wondered whose hair he might have braided before to learn this design. He was glad that he didn't remember; he wanted it to be only hers.

When he had finished cleaning her, he sat and watched her for so long that he lost track of time. It felt as though he was trancing - thoughts seemed to come and go before he could catch them. They were tiny things, inconsequential. A vicious master, a putrid dungeon full of rats, a squirming parasite digging through his skull. An infernal tattoo. An army of cultists marching on the city. It didn't matter now, he knew. As he looked at her, he at last finally, calmly accepted the seismic shift in the cosmos. The center of his universe now lay on the table in front of him, dancing between life and death, the axis of the planet spinning unknowingly around the core of her being. He was but a tiny moon in her atmosphere, helpless to her gravitational pull. Perhaps it was time to stop resisting. With a sigh, he settled into orbit.

A dim light had begun to creep through the dusty windows when she finally stirred. A groan of pain, followed by a thick swallow. Astarion was at her side in an instant with a water skein, tipping it to her cracked lips. She swallowed and coughed lightly, blinking up at him.

"It smells like shit in here."

He chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind her ears. "My apologies, madam. I'm not sure I can wash away, what, months worth of goblin piss in one night? But I can certainly try if it should please you."

She huffed out a laugh that made her wince, tenderly bringing a hand to touch the wound area. "How bad is it?"

"Shadowheart says you'll live," he smiled at her crookedly, "though I had my doubts. You looked quite poorly."

"You must be disappointed she was right," she smirked up at him, although he thought he caught an unguarded flash of uncertainty. If she only knew what he now understood, she would never doubt his devotion to her. But how could he even begin to explain it?

"Not in the least," he all but whispered. Leaning down, he ghosted a kiss against her lips first, and then to her forehead. "Don't scare me like that again, please."

"Then don't forget to check the rafters next time." Tired as she was, her eyes were full of adoration as her hand clasped around his.

[lilareviewsbooks]

4 SFF Books For (Humanities) Nerds

Hey guys! I know I promised this like, last year, but life got in the way :( But now I can finally present to you - my list of books for humanities nerds!

To put it simply, these are books I think broach topics that are close to the humanities nerds' interests - sociology, history, art, anthropology, political sciences... And sure, they could be considered "boring", but if you're into the humanities - you'll have a ball with them! (and, of course, anyone can enjoy these!)

The Goblin Emperor, by Katherine Addison

5 stars | 446 pages | standalone, but there are spin-offs | queer side character

This is the book that spurred this list, so, if you want a longer review, I have it on my blog. But suffice it to say that The Goblin Emperor is a fairly long and detailed account of what happens in the court of a country of elves when the youngest, unfavoured and half-goblin son of the king ascends the throne. This book is masterful. It seemlessly weaves in personal and political concerns as we follow Maia, the newly crowned emperor. The writing style is slow - we follow the emperor's every day life. We are with him when he rises in the morning until when he wakes up. It waits for something to happen, and is quiet and slow. It's absolutely delightful: despite his politicking, Maia is mostly and more ardently concerned with kindness. He wants to treat people fairly. This not only makes for a sweet main character, it also means the book is a fascinating character study, as well as an incredible feat of world-building. I think nerds will enjoy its slow and traquil pace, its dedication to politics, language and customs of this world and its charming main character.

A Memory Called Empire, by Arkady Martine

5 stars | 462 pages | completed duology | queer main characters

For a sci-fi twist, I think A Memory Called Empire is the way to go. The duology follows Mahit, a citizen of a small satellite of the Teixcalaan Empire, who is chosen as the next ambassador for her home. She must journey to the capital with a very important mission - find out why her predecessor mysteriously disappeared. Again, what there is to enjoy here is lush, expansive world-building. The Teixcalaani feel so, so real. Every little detail was thought of, from their language to their smiles. It's truly impressive, and the prose, I remember, is also beautiful, making these details pop out even more. This is also incredibly political, as Mahit descends into the belly of the beast, so to speak, in search of answers. But it is framed by a pretty straight-foward murder mystery, which might be fun for people used to mystery stories. And the second book broaches first contact! - it's just so much fun! I also have a longer review for this series, if you would like more details! Nerds will be drawn to the expansive world-building, attention to detail, and reflections on empire, memory and legacy.

Elder Race, by Adrian Tchaikovsky

4 stars | 201 pages | standalone | no one's queer, I don't think :(

This one might be a good pick for veterans of SFF - it has a fun gimmick! You must've heard the phrase "any science advanced enough in undistinguishable from magic", attributed to Arthur C. Clarke. This book takes that concept and runs with it. For Lynesse, a princess in a medieval society, Elder Nyr's "giant tower" is magical, and he, a magician. For Elder Nyr, an anthropologist come from a different planet, his interests are scientific, and his "tower", a spaceship. The fun of the novella is that we flip-flop between these two people's perspectives, so that half the story is a sci-fi, and the other half, a fantasy. I found this story to be unique, and to understand its place in the speculative genre quite well. It defies expectations and conventions in a creative way that I think nerds familiar with them will enjoy!

The Traitor Baru Cormorant, by Seth Dickinson

5 stars | 399 pages | uncompleted series | queer main characteres

Another good bet is The Traitor Baru Cormorant, the first installment in the Masquerade Series, which is not finished yet. It follows Baru, who, as a child, watches her country be colonized by the Masquerade Empire. She vows revenge, and to destroy the empire from the inside out. In this installment, she is finally trusted to be sent as an Imperial Accountant to Aurdwynn, a famously ungovernable territory... This one is very, very brain-y. It's dense political fantasy, and I admit I had some trouble following the economics, sometimes - that was never my strong suit!! The tapestry of betrayals, alliances and twists is rich, intricate and realistic. People have diverse interests, are multi-faceted individuals, and yet have a reason to be acting they way they are acting. This makes for satisfying plot lines, and incredible twists. I still haven't recovered from what the first book did to me, to be honest. Nerds, if you want to be dazzled and made to work for it, pick this one up. The Traitor Baru Corumorant will have you scratching your chin, thinking hard and having a lot of fun with (yay!) economics and accounting!

I have a couple more of these if anyone is interested :) And as always, if you need a book rec, feel free to send me an ask!

[sailoryooons]

🧡🎃 my queen. i have been sent here by the guardians of the moons to slip a drabble request of spooky-weenie love. we can keep it rated pg 13, imply relationship/smut if you desire. however i shall be here — looking for the young lad taehyung, dressed up as prince charming at a heavily intoxicated halloween party. frantically searching for his partner, oc!cinderella, as he realizes the strap to one of her heels have broke and she is walking around barefoot without her shoes on (typical cinderella amirite?) and as the goodest of boyfies — he is just trying to take care of his girl. oh, and he discovers — after searching throughout the entire complex — that she has accidentally gone overboard after her last intense and competitive game of beer pong and oc has found solace in a bush outside the house 😂😅🥹 to where her tiara sits crooked on top of her drunken head and her prince charming comes to assist her with whatever else has gone wrong 🤪🧡

❀ Pairing: Taehyung x f. reader

❀ Summary: Taehyung loves being your prince charming, even if it means trying to find where you’ve wandered off to in the middle of a Halloween party without your shoes. 

❀ Word Count: 1,657

❀ Genre: Established relationship, Fluff, Drunken Silliness

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Taehyung is a simp!!! Recreational drinking, reader is absolutely tanked but in a funny way, Taehyung is drunk but not as drunk, general descriptions of being drunk, one very sweet kiss, talks about toes djgdogidjgid, one sexual thought slipping through Taehyung’s brain

❀ Published: October 10, 2023

❀ A/N: THIS IS FOR MY QUEEN MAGGIE!!! MY BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL SAILOR MAGGIE! Everyone is just going to have to accept the bit about the toes and the running around barefoot in this because listen - we had a vision and I stuck with it and!!! Taehyung just loves her even if she’s ten-toe hogging it around a party with no zappatos on!! This was so fun and sweet to write and my god I need to write Taehyung more because I’m so down bad  for him rgoidjgodijgdoigj. THIS IS ONLY GRAMMARLY EDITED SFODIGJ PLEASE FORGIVE ME EVERYONE. 

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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When Taehyung sees the silver pair of heels kicked off outside of Jimin’s bathroom, he knows it’s over for you. He still can’t help but smile, bending down to scoop them up by the straps, dangling off of his fingers. 

Jimin’s house is full of creatures and goblins and ghouls and in Taehyung’s case, a prince. The itchy fabric of the Prince Charming costume is nearly insufferably where it rubs at his neck, the overcoat sweltering in the heated atmosphere of the Halloween party. 

Music thumps as Taehyung navigates out of the hall, swiveling his head as he goes. Fifteen minutes ago you had announced rather loudly - and with a wicked lean that nearly knocked over the beer pong table you’d been championing - that had to relieve yourself. Taehyung watched with a buzzed grin as you picked your way toward the hall, lifting the skirts of your Cinderella dress to avoid anyone tramping on it. 

Now, there’s no Cinderella dress in sight. 

Taehyung pops into the kitchen, hoping to find you drinking water. Only Yoongi hides in the kitchen, ripping off the cat ears Hoseok has stuck on his head. Taehyung spots the fridge and realizes that you might want water when he finds you. He needs water to find you, the room spinning a little and his mouth still awash with the aftertaste of the witches' brew Seokjin had plied him with. 

“Have you seen Cinderella anywhere?” Taehyung asks Yoongi.

Yoongi scowls as he wets his hands under the faucet and starts wiping at the cat nose on his face. 

“I think she went out in the backyard. Something about a pumpkin at midnight.” Taehyung snickers and shakes his head. “She was also missing shoes. And said something about pong champ.”

Taehyung holds up the items in question. “I think she might have crushed it a little too much at the pong table. She's running around barefoot”

“Well, it is Halloween. Maybe she’s in touch with the Hallow’s Eve or whatever Or your princess turned into a werewolf and is currently howling like a fiend.”

“Uh-huh. Good luck with your cat nose.”

“Good luck with your princess. Or werewolf.”  

Little does Yoongi know, Taehyung is always lucky with you. From the day that he bumped into you in a coffee shop, to the first date you went on, to years later, sharing an apartment above the coffee shop you love so dearly, Taehyung has been lucky every day. 

He grins thinking about it, opening up the back door and heading into the year. It’s a crispy night, cool air brushing against the sweat gathered at the back of his neck. He pauses for a moment to shrug out of the itchy, cornflower blue overcoat of his Prince Charming costume to reveal a white tee. 

Tying the coat around his waist, Taehyung surveys the yard. There’s no one outside that he can see, but the porch lights reflect all the way to the fence. Jogging down the steps, he glances up at the sky. It’s the perfect night, a thousand stars mapped across the world in perfect silence. 

It makes sense that you would come out here, he thinks. You love to look at the stars, but most of all, Taehyung knows you’d like to lie down somewhere and look at the skies after having something to drink. Knowing you, you’d have come out for fresh air after realizing how drunk you were in the bathroom, only to get distracted by the sky.

He loves that about you, though. Loves that he can somehow piece together the way your mind works, loves that the natural course of trajectory for you was through the kitchen and out into the yard with a flippant comment about a pumpkin. 

“Jagiya?” Taeyhung calls out, warm breath fogging in front of him.

“Pa-riiiiince!” 

Taehyung turns around to look at the garden. He raises his brows when he sees your legs sticking out from the mulch. He presses his hand to his mouth, trying to conceal his laughter and shock that you are crushing Jimin’s marigolds. 

He jogs over to you, finding you on your back with your hands tucked behind your head. You don’t seem to mind that you’re splat in the middle of flowers and dirt, your misty eyes fixated up on the sky with your mouth open in a dizzy smile. 

You look radiant. Bathed in moonlight, eyes wide and lost in the sky. Even if your crown is a little crooked and your dress is a little stained, Taehyung feels his heart rate speed up. You may be dressed as a princess for the night, but you look like a goddess. Ethereal. 

Taehyung feels a little dizzy. You reach for him and he complies, unable to say no to you as he sits and feels the marigolds crush under his ass. Your hands are warm and soft in his as you sigh in delight, thrilled to see him. 

“The stars are so wonderful,” you breathe. You turn your head. He notices the yellow petals stuck in your hair. Your face changes from wonder to something else. Adoration, he thinks. Taehyung’s stomach flips as you squeeze his hand. “Almost as beautiful as my Prince Charming.”

“My Cinderella is beautiful too.” He holds your shoes up. “Even if she is running around ten-toeing it, barefoot in the middle of the night.” 

You squeal, making grabby hands at the shoes. He lets you have them, laughing as you grab them and hold them to your chest, closing your eyes. Your head lulls to the side and he can see the sleepiness pulling at your edges. 

“You’re sloshed, huh?”

“Like a coke slushie from the movie, Your Princely-Highness-Lord.” 

He can’t fight his grin. “Have you had any water?”

“Champions don’t drink water.” He holds out the bottle of water to you anyway. You reach for it but miss several times before your greedy little fingers get a hold of it. As he lets it go, you loose  your grip and it hits you square in the face. “Motherfucker, the water is attacking the champion!”

Time to get you home.

“It’s after midnight, Princess Champion. We gotta hitch a ride on the pumpkin.”

“Get the cat to drive,” you mutter, not opening your eyes. “He was trying to wipe his nose off in the kitchen.”

Picking himself off the ground, Taehyung manages to get you up and dusted off. You sway in front of him, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. He can see the desire boiling there, and though it makes the blood rush to his groin, he ignores it, knowing you both need bed. 

Kneeling down, Taehyung slips your shoes back on. He’s careful, lifting your feet by the ankle to delicately slide the straps up. You’re nearly asleep as he works, eyes fluttering as his touch skims along your cooling skin. It’s only then he realizes that your shoe is broken and that leaving it on your foot and having you walk is dangerous. 

Sighing, he takes them back off, intent to carry you to the Uber and up to your apartment. His fingers make you wake up a little, swinging your head down as you say, “Hey weirdo. I have a boyfriend - a prince, to be exact - and he wouldn’t appreciate you touching my toes. Those are his.”

Taehyung laughs and stands up. He looks down his nose at you. You have to tilt your head back to see him, breath coming out in sweet little puffs that smell like juice. “Oh,” you say as Taehyung lowers his mouth, nose brushing yours. “You’re my boyfriend. These are your toes.” 

“They are,” he agrees. He steals a sweet kiss from you. Your mouth is warm against his, lips softer than ever. A shiver ripples through him as you melt into his touch, content to put your weight on him and let him hold you up. He always will. “Let’s get those toes home and in a pair of Sailor Moon socks, hmm?”

“Yeeeees.” 

The Uber home is quiet. You immediately lean into Taehyung, smashing him against the door as you knock out. He smiles all the same, wrapping a warm arm around you. He kisses your head before leaning his forehead against the window, feeling the cool glass bring him all the way back to sober. 

Lights blur by outside. Orange and purples of Halloween, smears of costumes, and partygoers coming and going from their haunts for the evening. Once you’re at your apartment, he rouses you and lifts you up, carrying you up the stairs as you go. Your crown only falls off your head once, which he dutifully sets you on the ground to collect so you don’t loose - in your words - the honor of your kingdom. 

You sprint the rest of the way to your apartment then, tearing through the halls in your bear feet until you’re inside and on the bed panting, completely in disarray. 

Two glasses of water, pajamas, and Sailor Moon socks later, you’re crashed in the bed, snoring lightly. Taehyung grins at your form, opening the drawer of the dresser where he stores his pajamas. Seeing you in your shared bed in his shirt, hand reaching out looking for him is the perfect end to this night. 

Sliding into a t-shirt and sleep pants, he moves to close the drawer before he hesitates. At the bottom of the drawer is a black, velvet box. It’s perfectly square, and Taehyung smiles when he sees it, thinking about the way your eyes were starry and lost as you looked at the sky. He pulls a shirt over it - it only needs to be hidden for a few more days. 

Shutting the drawer he turns to look at you. His sleeping beauty, now. 

Biting his bottom lip, Taehyung laughs. It’s after midnight, but your spell on him isn’t broken. It never will be. And he cannot wait to slide the ring on your finger instead of sliding slippers on your feet.

[sierracolorstheworldofwords]

The kitten-- Jareth x reader

Like a pouting child, the Goblin King sat on his throne. Outside, the thunder growled, the sky threatening to unleash his fury upon the inhabitants of the labyrinth. To drown all who stood within the storm's path! To diminish everything and everyone! 

Or at least, to make them feel as sour as he did.

His mood soured even more as he watched the source of his woe– a naughty kitten the color of ashes, chasing after a ribbon. Meanwhile, you, his love, his stars and moon entertained the damned horrid beast who knocked over his crystals and ran amuck! The monster who clawed his curtains and dipped her footprints into his ink, coating his desk in little paw prints. 

Really, he could handle that if you weren’t so busy cooing over the charming beastie. 

Finally, like the sun peeking through the clouds, you set your gaze on him. Smiling from your seat on the floor. He frowned. You were getting your pretty clothes dirty! 

“Jareth!” you called, waving him over, “Come play with me and the kitten!” 

He shifted, crossing one leg over the other, and the few goblins in the throne room watched, sensing the displeasure within their king. 

“Jareth!” You called again.

With a huff, he waved you off.

In response, your shoulders slumped, a frown forming on your lips, before you scowled, wagging a finger, “You better not be brooding!”

He sent you his own scowl in response. 

“That's the fifth time today!” You cried, shaking your head, before returning your attention to the kitten, “At least you don't brood!” 

“I heard that.”

 “Serves you right.” you put the ribbon aside now, offering her a finger to sniff, before she led your touch to underneath her chin, “he's no better than you! At least you purr, my sweet Eloise.”

“And that!” 

“And,” you continued, “At least you have cute little paws. What's he got? Hm? What does my little Jareth have?”

“Stop babying the kitten! And I'll tell you what I have, darling, class! At least I don't lick my ass in public–”

You turned to him, “So do you lick it in private then?”

Jareth shook like an overheated tea kettle as he glared at you. The splotching started at his neck, before slowly ascending, turning his cheeks and ears a bright, cherry red. In response, you snickered and grabbed the ribbon again. A smirk coated your lips as you swung it. Eloise scrunched herself into position, wiggling a bit before pouncing on her target. Or, at least, she tried to. Letting out a noise, she landed on her stomach, before determinedly chasing after the ribbon again. 

“Don't think I don’t hear you snickering over there.” He muttered, “honestly, how can you torture me so, dearest? Do you detest me?”

You continued playing with the kitten. The goblins watched, some fascinated, but others clearly disgusted. You couldn't ignore him! He was the Goblin King!

“Well?” he demanded.

You continued your fun.

“You're horrible!” He wailed, “Terrible! Atrocious! You're torturing me, darling! Tearing me apart, limb by limb!”

He now lay himself over the throne, his legs draped  over one arm. He threw a hand across his head, and the goblins around him chittered, clamoring to comfort him. To them, he looked like a martyr, or a sacrificial lamb being sacrificed to the gods. 

“What’s the matter, your majesty?” one asked. 

“Yeah, sire, what can we do?” 

Another held back sobs, “S-sire, what’s the matter?” 

“Yes! Whatever the matter, your majesty?” 

“Oh how you wound me my love!” Jareth pretended to close his eyes, only to look at you through little slits as he continued with his caterwauling, “Oh my love, how you torture me! How you pain me!”

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

“It feels as if you have taken a knife and stabbed me, twisting it within my chest!” 

The goblins gasped, some now huddling around the throne while shedding tears, their poor lips warbling as they looked at their luxurious, glorious, king. 

“Oh, darling!” Jareth cried. 

Finally, you turned to him with a glare, “Yes dear?”

He glared back, sitting up, “Get away from that horrid creature and pay attention to me!” “I asked you to come and play with–” “And get my clothes dirty on that floor?!” 

You sighed softly, shaking your head. 

To think, the being who always thought of himself as a gothic byronic hero couldn’t get along with a cat. Yet, you figured it’d be lovely to get one– since he had the temperament of one, and you thought it’d be nice to see your gargoyle of a king play with a kitten. Said king didn’t even notice you frowning, or if he did, he was too caught up in the performance to comfort you. 

“How you must detest me! Torturing me with such ideas!” His voice was smooth and hazy like wine, and the goblins drank it in, “And you pain me, darling– scolding me whenever I scold that kitten.”

You glared at him, causing him to gasp, laying a hand upon his chest.

“What a horrid creature you are, precious!”

Now, the goblins glared at you. They were stupidly overprotective of him, and even worse, stupidly overindulgent. Perhaps, you should’ve indulged him more, and even went to him, and sat upon his lap, but you quite liked where you were. Gathering Eloise in your arms, you cradled her to your chest, gently kissing her forehead. She protested a moment, before settling into your arms. 

“We’ll get rid of that beast, your majesty!” a goblin bayed. 

The small crowd nodded. 

“And we’ll make that human pay!” another yowled. 

“Pay! Pay!” the goblins cheered, “Make the human pay for upsetting the king!” 

Outside, the once howling wind stilled. The thunder stopped, even the clouds froze. Jareth grew still now, his hands now clenching the sides of the throne. His jaw clenched, and he turned towards the goblin who tried to rally the crowd. Standing, he loomed over the tiny creature, and you couldn’t distinguish where his long, black cape ended, and where the darkness began. His features elongated, sprouting, sharpening– ears turning into sharp arrows that jutted from his wild mane of blond hair. 

“What did you say?” 

The sky outside broke, thunder cracking it in half, followed by a lighting flash that slashed the air. Eloise let out a whimper, burrowing into your neck, but you didn’t cower. Just like Jareth, you couldn’t help but love what you loved, and love it wholeheartedly. Though, unlike your darling, you weren’t loath to admit it. 

The goblin was pinned into place by the king’s dark, deep gaze, and the fool looked at you, but you simply turned away to coo at Eloise. The creature was at the king’s mercy,now. 

“B-but your majesty–”  the goblin squeaked out, shaking in fear.

“But? But what?” He asked.

Jareth didn’t need to yell– his voice was all encompassing, sticking like snowflakes onto frostbitten skin. It sent a shiver down your spine, but still, to spite him, you continued to pet the kitten. Someone was clearly jealous. 

“Y-you said– y-you–”

“I said? I said? You ought to focus on your own words, you spineless fool! You threatened my love. You were tempted to make my darling pay– for what? Hasn't my heart always been merciful to insignificant specks like you?”

His heels clacked against the chilled silence of the room as he descended, stopping in front of the small group. They looked towards you again. Jareth leaned down, grabbing the nearest one by the throat.

“Do not look at my love.” he seethed, “Look at your King. Look at me.” 

You sighed, “Jareth.”

He turned towards you, a sneer on his lips. You simply blinked at him. The poor goblin didn't know who to be more afraid of. The Goblin King, or You, the one who didn't, couldn't, and wouldn't back down from him.

“You’ve been glowering all day.” you said, “And specifically, you’ve been glowering at your love all day, along with our kitten.” 

His stiffness melted. He looked at you. 

“Our kitten?” he murmured, edges melting, eyes widening. 

“Our kitten,” you insisted, meeting his gaze. 

The goblin was dropped like an old doll, and he tilted his head, finally noticing the frown on your lips. 

“Darling,” he murmured, “Why on earth are you frowning?” “Do you want to get rid of Eloise?” 

He looked at you for a moment, eyes wide, and his gaze ventured towards the kitten who now looked at him in return.

“As much as I love her, I love you too,” you said, biting down your lip, “and I want you to be happy. Not to mope all day because of a kitten.” 

His heart squeezed at the sight of you. Misty eyed and so connected to the little black cloud in your arms. It’s why he loved you, really, because your love was all encompassing, because it ate him alive, and he was scared that if you loved anything else, he’d lose it. 

“Oh darling,” he murmured, before coming towards you, and dropping to his knees, cradling your face, “No. You love that funny thing. And..” 

“Yes?” He lowered his voice, “I have been a bit jealous.” 

“Of a kitten?”

His cheeks flared. He looked away. Outside, the rumbling lowered its volume, undecided. 

“Yes.”

“Jareth–”

“Please don't scold me.”

You sighed, “She's not going to replace you–”

“You did say that you'd take her over me.”

“That's true,” you said, “especially if you keep being jealous of a kitten! Or keep trying to push her away! She's our kitten, Jareth, but I wanted us to both love her, to take care of her.” 

“Why?”

“Because I love you, and I wanted to share our love.” 

Jareth stared at you, lips parted, revealing his sharp teeth. They caused the goblins to shudder in horror, but you simply smiled at him, reveling in his surprise. Then, his cheeks turned a pale pink, and the goblins watched in a mixture of horror and awe as Goblin King melted before you, turning into a man who sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck. 

“I think she hates me,” he admitted.

“She doesn’t hate you. She just glares at you when you glare at her. It’s what cats do!” He pouted, “You’ve been neglecting me–” 

“She’s a kitten! You’re a man! I’m your lover! Or are you into incest?” 

He let out a disgusted noise, “Of course not!”

“Then I'm not going to baby you like I’m your mother, Jareth! I'll take care of you like a lover. And we'll take care of Eloise together! Now hold the kitten and do some magic and give her some treats.” 

“Am I doing the magic for you, or her?” 

“Both.” 

With that, he took the kitten into his arms, and she whined as she was separated from you. Eloise looked up at Jareth through narrowed, displeased eyes. Her tail swished angrily behind her. 

“Blink slowly at her.” you whispered, now scooting beside him, and leaning onto his shoulder. 

“What?” “Just do it.” 

He sighed, and did as he was told. 

The kitten froze, and you shifted Jareth’s arms, so she was cradled against his chest.. 

“Do it again.”

He did it again. 

This time, Eloise settled against him, still a bit miffed, but otherwise, doing alright. Grabbing his freehand, you stripped off his glove and guided his fingers to the spot behind her ears. A grin spread across your face as she began to close her eyes. 

“See?” you cooed, “You’re both exactly the same. Charming.” 

His lips curled, and his smile spread as you kissed his cheek, before settling back onto his shoulder. Outside, the thunder lessened to a purr, and Eloise joined the noise, closing her eyes in contentment. You poked his side. 

“Are you still jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? Of a kitten? That’s quite silly, darling.” 

You raised a brow, “You’re right. You’re lucky I like silly things, aren’t you?” 

“And you’re lucky I like silly things like you. Imagine babying a kitten.” 

“Imagine being jealous of one and wallowing in self pity.” 

He sent you a glare, making you giggle. 

Finally, he did sigh, “Will you ever forgive me for being so foolish?” 

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and you smiled, “If you’ll never be so foolish again. Save your jealousy for more practical occasions. Although, you won’t need to worry about anyone taking me away from you. I have everything I have here.” 

You settled by his side, and he continued petting little Eloise, before kissing your forehead. Outside, the thunder finally faded, revealing the pale hazy blue of the sky. He sighed in content, and the residents of the labyrinth exhaled in relief, all except a group of goblins, who, with a snap of his fingers, were sent to live within the bog of stench. Honestly, their screams were music to his ears. 

[evansbby]

2000s buzzcut era gives me ‘you’re shit faced drunk and he fucks you the entire night and then leaves before you wake up. If he sees you at another party he fucks you again bc he sleeps with too many bitches to remember their face’ kinda vibe.

Early to mid 2010s clean cute Prince Charming era gives me ‘very strict but sweet daddy who is going to knock you up and then make you his housewife. Oh, and he beats up any guy who looks at you’ kinda vibe.

Long hair Ari Levinson era late 2010s gives me a ‘mix between the other two, he’d probably only be with you for sex and only contact you when it benefits him. Eventually he gets too jealous (he falls in love with you) and gets you pregnant and makes you his cute little housewife. You’re once cold and mean daddy who used you, is now you’re strict and sweet daddy who can’t get enough of you spending his money especially on cute flimsy lingerie🫣. You’re his sweet little baby who doesn’t have to worry about a single thing (because “daddy will take care if everything”) and only has to sit there looking pretty in her cute little dresses and obey daddy. He fucks you until you pass out and he still wouldn’t stop. ’ kinda vibe.

Whatever this era is gives me ‘slimy goblin who you’d probably have to get a restraining order against because he stands outside your window and begs you to be with him because in his words you guys are “soulmates”….plus his hair and beard don’t match’ kinda vibe.

(oops, can you tell who’s my favorite😭)

BESTIEEE YOU ARE ME AND I AM YOU BC THAT THIRD PARAGRAPH??? 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

All i wanna be is dilf!Ari’s little girlfriend who only has to look pretty and wear cute dresses that he chooses for me and I don’t have to worry bc daddy will take care of everything 🫣🫣🫣

FUCK EVERY OTHER ERA FR I just want my daddy 🫡🫡

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 6 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 3104

Act I, Chapter 6 - The Reveal

Another day passed with only wounds and tired adventurers to show for it. They seemed to be getting closer to their goals, but the goblins were so many, and they were so few.

You noticed that Astarion seemed particularly tired, his eyes looking a bit unfocused.

Before he left on his usual evening walk, you approached him.

“Yes?”

You just pointed at your neck.

He smiled. “I thought you’d never ask. I’ll come to you later tonight,” he said, his voice dipping a bit lower. You knew he was trying to sound sultry, but to you, he just sounded a little exhausted. You just nodded and walked away to clean around camp.

You weren’t excited about feeding him, but you also couldn’t let him go hungry. Not after what you felt last time.

***

"You bastard!"

You were sitting on your bedroll, Astarion sitting beside you. He was taking a long sip of your blood when you both heard Shadowheart yell. You both turned to see her glaring at Astarion, her stance ready to tackle him. Her yell had awoken the others, who were all coming out of their tents and gathering close. Seeing you, with blood running down your neck, and Astarion, your blood smeared on his lips, made everyone panic.

Gale held out one hand to you, his other hand clearly preparing a spell. “Don’t hurt her.”

Everyone else was reaching for their weapons.

You couldn’t let this misunderstanding continue. “No, wait!”

The others stared at you in varying levels of disbelief and dismay.

“You’d defend him?”

“He just bit you!”

“Are you under his thrall?”

“We should stake him.”

You purposely put your body between Astarion and everyone else. “Listen, he’s helped everyone so far, hasn’t he? And he’s done all this in a weakened state. So I’ve been feeding him.”

There was dead silence. Then the group looked at the pale elf.

“She’s a valued member of our group,” he said, turning his charm up to twenty as he shifted slightly out from behind you. “I would never jeopardize her wellbeing.”

“How do we know you won’t go too far?”

“I’ve never fed on sentient beings before,” he explained. When they all gave him a disbelieving glare, he amended, “except for our dear hearth witch, who volunteered.” He tipped his head, as if he suddenly had a thought. “And now that you all know, I could bite our enemies. No more concerns about going too far."

You looked at everyone. “Will that be acceptable?”

After a few more questions and answers, they all finally agreed to leave Astarion be. Some of them gave you one last worried look before turning away, returning to their tents.

You finally let out a sigh of relief. Turning back to Astarion, you found him staring at you, a curious expression on his face.

“If you can’t find any prey, you can still feed on me, if you like.”

He blinked in surprise, but quickly recovered. “Why darling, how generous of you."

You reached out and touched his upper arm, his sleeve protecting you from direct skin contact. “It’s my job to make sure you’re all fed. Even if it’s in unconventional ways.” You watched him look over at your hand, and then back up at you, a strange look in his eyes.

"Even though it hurts?” he asked quietly.

“Even though it hurts,” you repeated softly. You remembered what you felt through his touch as he fed on you. “I don’t want you to go hungry.”

There was something calculating in his expression. You reached down and squeezed his hand and you felt a flicker of gratitude. That was all you needed to confirm, and you let go of him.

“Well, good night,” you whispered.

“Good night, my sweet,” he purred.

Something about the change in his tone felt off, as if he had just put on a mask and was speaking behind it. But you didn’t have the energy to figure it out.

***

The next morning, nearly everyone seemed a bit on edge. You supposed that the reveal of having a vampire spawn in their midst had shaken the others, at least a little bit. On the contrary, Astarion seemed rather calm, as if he had been relieved of the burden of carrying such a secret.

You were wearing your scarf around your neck, as you had begun to do since Astarion first bit you, and now the others were eyeing it with new found understanding.

“So that’s why you cover up so much, even in this weather,” Gale said understandingly, nodding his head as if he were praising his own (incorrect) theory.

No, that’s not the only reason, but I’m not about to tell you that.

You discovered that everyone was getting ready to leave, for once. Usually one of them stayed behind to guard the camp. It must have been something big.

“We’re going to take on the goblin camp leaders,” Shadowheart explained when you asked.

You nodded. Maybe that's why everyone seemed tense earlier, not just about Astarion. You immediately began thinking of the herbs you would need to gather today to make the potions and nourishing stew that you knew they would need when they all returned.

As everyone began to head out, you wished them all good luck and to be safe.

I should probably prepare. And hope for the best.

***

You had been out gathering herbs and making potions all day, and a piping hot stew was cooking over the fire. Volo had told you that he would be staying at the druid’s grove for a bit to gather research for his new book, and to not expect him back tonight. That left only Withers and Scratch for company. Neither were much for conversation, so you got a lot accomplished.

The sun was setting as you filled your pot full of ingredients, the reds and oranges painting the sky, the golden light washing over the trees and rocks. A crisp breeze gently reminded you that autumn was just around the corner. You lit the campfire and watched the wood burn, lost in thought as you stared at the growing flames. Part of you worried about your adventurers, but another part of you trusted that they would return, safe and sound. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself to keep you from wringing yourself out from worry.

When your bell chimed, you jumped up and immediately headed towards the main pathway into camp. Seeing your party return, clearly tired but mostly hale and whole, filled you with a sense of relief. And as per usual, they had a new member in tow.

The tall, large elf introduced himself as Halsin. You recognized the name from a previous night’s conversation during supper.

“So you’re the archdruid,” you replied.

“Indeed I am. And you must be the hearth witch. Everyone seemed very keen to return to you, and your meals. I hear they are quite good,” he said with a smile.

You couldn’t help but grin back. It was nice to hear that your work was appreciated.

Leading everyone to the campfire, you pointed out the hot water rune around the corner in the river, away from prying eyes, if anyone wished to relax for a bit before they slept.

“Leave any dirty clothes outside of your tent, I’ll take care of them,” you said as everyone sat down around the fire. “You lot have had a long day.”

As you handed out bowls of stew, Astarion politely excused himself and left to patrol around the camp. Everyone had just accepted it as normal, and Halsin seemed to be either aware of his nature or tactful enough to not ask.

“Oh, do you have a tent?” you asked Halsin as you returned to the campfire after preparing the other tents.

He shook his head. “No, but I am content sleeping under the stars. Being one with nature is where I feel most comfortable.”

Definitely a textbook example of a druid. I bet he doesn’t even like clothes. “Still, I think we might have an extra bedroll somewhere.”

You went off to look for one in the pile of random loot that the party liked to bring back to you. Most of it still needed to be sorted for use or for trading, but you managed to find a bedroll, though it was ragged and a bit smelly. Bringing it over to an empty spot, you cast a cleaning and warming cantrip. Then you stared at all the rips and tears in the fabric, frowning.

Halsin came up to you just as you were working out how long it would take to mend the bedroll. “Thank you for letting me stay in your camp. Your stew was excellent. Had two helpings.” He patted his stomach.

“You’re very welcome,” you replied. You glanced at your companions, who were beginning to wander away from the fire towards their tents. “I just hope you can help them.”

He nodded. “I will do my best. They have done a great deed this day. The goblins should disperse.”

You felt relief. Maybe you could return to your cottage now, if the goblins were no longer a threat. But the thought of leaving the group now brought on a pang of sadness. Did you really want to leave them behind? 

He patted your shoulder, breaking you out of your inner thoughts. “This is more than enough,” Halsin said as he gestured towards the frayed bedroll. “After all, I came barging into your camp unannounced.”

You grinned. “I’m not done yet,” you said as you took a step back and put your hands out. You took a deep breath and sang the mending cantrip, stronger and faster than you had before. This wasn’t the delicate mending that Astarion’s shirt had been. The bedroll was made of rough cotton and hide. It could take a stronger song. Your arms and hands and fingers moved as if you were detangling a giant knot of yarn. Strings of orange light formed between your fingertips, creating a patterned weave that floated down, settling on the material and making it whole once more. 

When you finished, your throat felt parched and your hands felt strained, but the bedroll looked new.

You looked up to see nearly everyone else watching you.

“Wha-what?” you squeaked, suddenly shy.

“I’ve never heard you sing like that before,” Gale commented.

You shrugged. “I just hum for most of the little things around camp.”

“You should have been a bard,” Wyll said with a soft smile.

“Will you sing me a lullaby?” Karlach asked.

You shooed everyone away, feeling self-conscious and shy from their positive attention.

But inside, you were absolutely thrilled.

***

Late at night, while the others were asleep, you awoke to the soft chiming of the small silver bell that you had placed by your head, the one that was magically linked to the tripwire you had placed near the camp’s entry.

Getting up, you met the vampire at his tent, a bucket of heated water, a washcloth, and a soft, fluffy towel in hand.

He looked a little ragged, but healthy. His eyebrows raised at your presence. “Were you waiting for me?”

You nodded. “Figured you’d want to wash down after your meal before going to sleep. Or trance, I suppose.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up and he raised an eyebrow. “I see you have some knowledge.”

You shrugged. “I’ve known a few elves.”

“I see,” he said. He looked at the wooden bucket of steaming hot water in your arms. “So, are you going to wash me?” he asked suggestively, leaning in and giving you his best seductive smirk.

Aghast, you had to keep yourself from yelling. “No!” you rasped. You shoved the bucket at him. “Wash yourself!”

“But I can’t reach my back,” he said, pouting oh so perfectly.

You gawked for a moment. Was he being serious? No, he was just teasing you. Come now, you weren’t going to fall for that face of his again, were you?

But… What if he actually needed help?

“Fine,” you huffed.

He stared at you in shock for a moment. “I was only teasing,” he replied, suddenly sober. He took the bucket from you and started to duck into his tent.

You had whiplash from having to deal with this man’s moods. But you had caught the slightly wistful look on his face before he had turned away.

Dammit.

“Wait.”

“Hm?” He turned back to face you, halfway into his tent, holding up the flap with one hand, cradling the bucket in the other arm.

“Erm.” You let out a breath. Why do I keep doing this? “I can help. If you can't reach.”

He considered you for a moment before slowly stepping into his tent, keeping the flap open for you.

You had warmed up his tent before going to bed, and once the flap was down, the sounds of the outdoors became muted, leaving a peaceful, quiet space, perfect for winding down after a long day. He knelt down and placed the bucket by the entry. You touched the fabric of the tent to cast a light cantrip, and a soft glow lit up the room just enough to be comfortable, almost romantic.

Then he took off his armor and his shirt. You held back your gasp, but you couldn’t help but put your hand over your mouth in shock.

His back was marked by scars, a circular pattern with lines and dots.

Silently, he soaked the towel in the hot water and handed it to you. 

Realizing that you had come to him in your sleeping clothes, you swallowed. Just don’t touch him directly. Keep the towel between my hands and his skin. Oh gods, this was a dumb idea.

“Well?”

You knelt down beside him, took the towel, and began to gently scrub his back. Beneath your touch, his muscles felt stiff. When the towel went lower toward his waistline, he tensed, as if he was bracing himself. You couldn’t help yourself; you were so curious about his mental state that you tentatively touched his shoulder with your bare hand. A very muted sense of tiredness came through, nothing more. He's guarded tighter than a bank.

You continued to wash the rest of his back, but your eyes kept tracing on the pattern on his skin. You ran your hand along lines of his scars before you realized what you were doing, and quickly moved to soak the towel once more, hopefully hiding what you had done. 

"Curious?" 

Dammit, he caught me. "I didn't want to pry," you said. 

"Your touch gave you away." After a moment, he asked, "What do you think?" 

You stared at the symbols and patterns. You had seen something like this before, long ago. "I… I think it's infernal."

He suddenly turned to you. "What?" 

"What?" you asked in return, equally confused. “I thought you were testing me.”

“No, I…” He looked away. “I was told it was a poem.”

“Who the hell would carve a poem onto someone’s back?” you rasped in anger.

Astarion was quiet for a long time. You waited patiently, wondering if he would tell you, as you continued to wash his back, then his shoulders. Finally, his head dipped down, and he took a deep breath.

“Cazador. My… master.”

Suddenly words came spilling out from him. He told you what happened the night he got his scars, who his master was, and what he was. A vampire spawn. Just a tool to be used for his master’s whims, with none of the powers and all of the setbacks. You hadn’t needed to touch him to know that he felt vehemently bitter about it. 

You understood, perhaps not completely, but to some degree. Your ten years of servitude felt like a drop in the bucket now. Two hundred years. You couldn’t even imagine it.

“You’re quite admirable,” you mumbled as you put the washcloth back in the bucket.

“Whatever for?”

“You survived,” you said simply.

He was quiet for a few moments. “I suppose I have,” he finally said.

“Have you ever seen your scars?”

“Difficult to do that without a reflection,” he sniped.

“Right, sorry,” you mumbled, berating yourself for the dumb question. Then you had an idea. “What if I drew it for you? Do you have ink and paper?”

“I— this isn’t your problem, you know.”

You nodded. “I know. So do you have any?”

He pointed to his stack of books, and next to it were a quill and an inkwell.

“No paper?”

“Just… write inside one of the covers,” he said, a little impatiently.

You grabbed the book on top of the stack. The title was The Quarta Sune. You raised an eyebrow at the cover before you flipped open the back cover. The last page was blank. Settling yourself in for a bit, you carefully drew the pattern on his back, every line, every dot, perfectly in place. You blew on the ink to dry it and handed it to him.

He stared at the drawing, his brows furrowed. “What in the hells? What did he do to me…”

“Perhaps Karlach can read it.”

“Perhaps. But what will it say?” Then he looked up at you. “Thank you, by the way. This is… well, it’s something.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Will we? How…” He paused, his expression changing. “...sweet.”

He had that calculating look on his face again, and it made you uncomfortable. You started to get up, but he touched your arm. Once again, his emotions were muted, so you couldn’t sense much of anything.

“Darling,” he purred, “Why don't you stay awhile?”

You looked at him. He didn’t seem hungry, so you didn't think he was subtly asking for a drink. His fingers slowly moved up and down on your bare arm, a whisper of a caress, nothing more. You could have easily moved your arm away, but honestly? Having a physical touch without the emotional baggage was nice.

No, no, he’s shielding for a reason, and it can’t be good.

You touched his hand again. There was no emotion, nothing at all. It was like he had completely hidden behind a rock solid fortress in his heart. 

Something was deeply wrong and it was going to take more than a few paltry words from you to help him. You suddenly felt the urge to run away; you didn't know how to handle the situation.

“I'm a bit tired… so, erm, good night,” you blurted out as you fled from his tent.

----------------

Chapter 6 End notes: Definitely manipulating some of the existing in-game dialogue to suit the situation! I’ve got the next couple of chapters written up, just need to edit and make sure I keep posting regularly. Did you find the Quatra Sune book in your game? Let me know! And please comment, I very much enjoy seeing your feedback! (And please reblog, help spread my story around so other people can read a cozy story!)

[slashingdisneypasta]

(Fae) King Roderick x Fem!Human!Reader || Drabble

Plot: 🌷🌲🌷 Roderick stops amid his day-to-day duties to watch a sweet human girl get attacked by some nasty goblins- and wonders to himself whether indeed he needs another pretty slave~ 🌷🌲🌷 🌷🌲🌷 🌷🌲🌷

Warnings: Goblin attack (They gang up on you, they hold you down, they jump on you, they bite you), Evil Roderick Thoughts (He likes violence. He wants to own you & use you), etc probably.

Roderick is my character! ^^ If you like him, please let me know!! I will die but don't worry I'll come back. This is the first time I'm writing him for... a long time, so he will develop as time goes on; But the basic principles of his character will remain the same.

@marinerainbow I'm tagging you because you're the only one who knows about Rod! XD Here he is in all his terrible glory. I hope you like him! 😅 XD

-You shouldn't have come here!-

-now we get to play with youu, heheh-

-Let's have some fun, little maid!

It was a mistake! I'm sorry! you cried, trying to pull your arm away from the evil little creature - a goblin, - that had you in his iron-grip, dragging you down to his level and his horrible sharp teeth and his black eyes. I didn't know! I'll go back! Just let me-

Fear and tears fill your eyes so beautifully, little maid. Roderick thought as he watched from high in a nearby tree. Neither you, nor the pesky squat little creatures knew he was there. He was in his small form, after all. Barely visible so high up.

He was only taking a wander through the woods just now- He only wanted to see his land, today. Whisper some simple encouragements to the trees, compliment the flowers for growing so gorgeously this spring, run his fingers through the grass, and generally spread some good cheer; make sure the forest was still his. On his side. Always listening, and reporting to him everything it heard.

He had no idea he would end up a witness to such pretty a sight. Seeing a lovely human girl roughed up and terrified by a few goblins was just always a nice surprise. Ever so pleasant.

Sure, he could easily get rid of the creatures. Call them off; he was the King of this forest, after all. He could save you as easily as he could order himself a sweet cup of honey and lavender tea. But you are all putting on such a good show... he'd hate to spoil it.

Two goblins now hold onto your arms and leave irritated red scratches in your skin with their jagged claws, another two nasty little creatures wrap around your legs and sit on your feet, and another- pounces onto your back, from a low-hanging branch in another tree. Your knees buckle under the weight of the fat bastard, and you slam into the dirt while all the creatures snigger and cackle cruelly at your pain and your fear. The one on your back digs his pointed nose into your hair and your neck, and takes a deep whiff.

The look on his face is down-right ravenous. Filthy. As if the dumb thing had been starved for days and it just came upon a whole roast pheasant feast.

Roderick's eyebrows climb up his forehead. Interesting... Well if you really smell that good, maybe he should save you. One look at you- the humble attire you adorn your sweet body with that hides everything and then some (Frustrating, Roderick thinks with an eyeroll), the fact that you're alone here in the first place (Humans rarely travel this deep into the forest. There are myths meant to warn you against such places, didn't you know dear?~ Roderick smirks. Fairy stories, I believe they aptly refer to them in town.)... tells him all he needs to know about you. He could so easily draw you to him. Make you grateful and charm you. Save you, and convince you it was good will... He doubted anyone would look for you for long, either. Maybe a month (A few mere hours at home). Not that that worried him at all; he had the power, here.

"... " After another moment, Roderick rolls his eyes and gets up off the tree branch he was sat and leering down at the scene on. "Ugh. What am I thinking?? I don't need anymore slaves." Cavalierly, he waives his hand and turns to fly off. "You just kidnapped another one the other week, Rod. That little flower nymph; go home and sate yourself on him for a little while. No one likes a greedy king."

He's about to disappear into the dark like he was never there at all, leave you to your fate at the hands of the cheeky little ground urchins-- but you let out a shriek suddenly.

A shriek that makes Roderick freeze; a delicious shiver racing up his spine as nearby sparrows shoot out of another tree and disappear above the treetops. A crooked grin slips across the fae king's bearded face, rolling his shoulders of the freezy thrill-feeling before he turns back around to you. There's a bite mark on your neck now; likely the cause of your pig-squeal.

"... or I could sate myself on you for a little while, hmm?" Another delectable screech, when one of the other goblins digs his sharp, yellow teeth into your calf. Roderick's vision goes red as his beautiful features take on a killer grin and he slowly flies forward. "I'll take that as an emphatic yes~ "

[breitzbachbea]

this is so so optional but 🐖 for a character of your choice

Spitroasting Dolcetto! WAIT-

Ask Game for someone’s OCs

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Okay, this is going to be batshit, strap in. So anyone remember Fullmetal Alchemist? Anyone remember Greed's Posse of Chimeras? Remember how one of them was named Dolcetto? Yeah.

I was so obsessed with Greed and Dolcetto (another story, another OC entirely) that the name stuck with me. Once I had moved on from FMA and gotten into Hetalia, for some reason that name had stuck with me. Somewhere I had found out that it means "little sweet one" and thought 'Wouldn't that be a funny name for an angry, short character?'. I hadn't bothered to check at this stage whether any of the names I had salvaged from somewhere else were actually names. Sorry Dolco, teenage me was careless and now your parents named you after a grape.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Born 20th of May 1994. He's 19 in Italian Affairs, the first book of the mainstory he crops up in. He tends to be around that age for all AUs, too.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

The one and only motherfucker unlimited Francesco Belfari. Francesco is his first kiss, too, due to Dolcetto's atrocious social skills and thusly resulting disinterest in mingling with people.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

He's a ghiottone! He has a sweet tooth and especially can't get his fill of chocolate!

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Babysitting Feli and being a ruthless bastard! Like many of my characters, he's part of the mob, in this case as a right hand of the Vargas' Bros.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Already answered here! However, I do want to draw attention to the tags by outright stating - I think wanking should count as a hobby when you are as horny and suppressed as this goblin.

🎯 -What do they do best?

Keeping others on track. Don't get me wrong, he is quite hot-headed and can lose sight of things that are important and chronically overworks himself, but he's a perfect fit as Feli's right hand for a reason. He truly is ruthless in the sense that he sees a way that goes from A to B and is not interested in any frilly side-adventures. He's dependable as all hell and while not as creative as the Bontade twins, actually a good match for them in terms of thinking on his feet.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Francesco. He loves to see plan work out and reap the rewards. He loves to achieve either a physical feat (like rock-wall climbing and reaching the top) or a logistical one (getting one over the Bontades) and get a pat on the back. If it involves hurting people, so be it, good way to get his aggression out, if it involves hurting himself, all the more so be it.

He absolutely loathes having to play along to someone else's games. I bet you he's exploding everyone and himself internally every time he goes to France. At least the Germans are just either as awkward as he is, whatever Gilbert got going on or straight up assholes. He's not good at playing nice, he's not enjoying anyone's attention, he has no interest in being charming at all. He's that Francis Crozier at a party - "Tell us about birdshit island again, that's a capital story." It's the worst part about caring about Feliciano honestly, having to participate in what comes so easily to Franci and Feli.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

I think he does remember Gabriella very fondly from their childhood. And he also misses Venice sometimes, especially when the tourist crowds weren't around in the old city on rainy, gloomy days. Being landlocked in Rome makes him yearn for seaside.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Perhaps when he realized his parents don't care much for him. When they wouldn't intervene with the bullying at school, wouldn't help him much and reach out to him at all. When all his cries for help by acting out got him written off as never making something out of himself. He wasn't the 'little sweet one' they had hoped for, so he was on his own.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Yep! Wiry, corkscrew curls, Short - always been my boooy.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Can't tell you for the life of me, honestly. It's been a long time ...

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

He should have been in actual gritty gangster drama, to be honest. Not his clownshow, but he is still excelling at it. He's also slaying in nigh every historical AU I have, so he was just made for the drama.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Cis man and the flop bisexual nobody wants.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

One! His beloved older sister Gabriella, with who he has an absolutely terrible relationship for many years, because he's pushing her away to not hurt her and she keeps pulling him back so he won't hurt himself.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Bad and now non-existent. As I said, the Acerbis (Martina and Bernardo) didn't really know how to handle Dolcetto after Gabriella was such a poster-child of success. They were probably also fairly conservative and saw Dolcetto as someone unwilling to work/who needed to straighten out. Honestly? Lie to them about the mob thing and hide her queerness, they'd take Gabriella back with open arms alongside with her well-to-do Milanese boyfriend. Dolcetto? If he wasn't dead to them before, he'd be now, queer troublemaker with a Neapolitan ne'er-do-well as a partner.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

I like how much Dolcetto's heart is both in the right and the wrong place. He reminds me a lot of my younger self, hell, even of me now at times. He's so focused on having to be useful or otherwise no one will want to have him around that he's willing to destroy himself over it. He thinks if he's not delivering, no one would tolerate him. He IS a bastard, he IS callous often, but he does love and appreciate those around him and I love his journey recognizing that. I love that he finally gains self-worth and not just ego.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Not as much as I'd like to! I recently drew a tiny headshot of him because I've watched Hazbin and he'd make an excellent exorcist - Plus I cannot resist anything where Dolcetto has a high social status that is yet precarious and along comes Francesco, completely untethered from societal opinion and completely fucking all that up for Dolcetto. But since I've been rewriting Irish Problems for two years now, baby boy isn't as present as I'd like him to be.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

I mean, I can't imagine Dolcetto growing old, but that's none of my business.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Nothing I can think of from the top of my head.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Marco and Lorenzo! The Bontade twins are one year older than Dolcetto and very much everything he's not. Social butterflies, totally confident in all of their skills, completely sexually open ... To be fair, Dolcetto also looks down upon them and, much like his sister, finds them rather grating and more hot air than skill. In his eyes, with he entire Vargas-Vento rivalry creating this enmity in the first place, them seementitled to something that isn't theirs. So while these two are definitely bullying him, Dolcetto is absolutely not the bigger person. Marco: How could he be? Lorenzo: He'd need stilts!

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

I was definitely still in middle school. So probably since 11 or 10 years, I don't know how quickly I came up with more characters to populate the LFLS world back then.

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

14 or 15. Absolutely wild to think a 19 year old would be too much meaningfully different from his creator at that age. I'm six years older now than he is in IA.

[linaselandbasil]

HAHA, nerds! (Working title)

CHAPTER 2

(Bloodweave University au)

AO3 link, link to chapter 1

...

"Ugh, my nail broke! How does that even happen!" Astarion complained to Shadowheart literally immediately as she got into his car.

"I have no clue. I have never seen you work. Ever." She threw her backpack on the backseat and buckled up. "So, your place?"

"Yeah." He pulled out of the parking lot of the comic parlor and drove towards the nearest Wc Deepalds. "What do we order?"

"Fries, bunches. And a milkshake. And ice cream."

"We have ice cream at home."

"It's not the same, I assure you!" Shart said, crossing her arms. "Whatever, It's not like papa Caz is letting you eat any of it."

"Yeah, it's for guests, and you are a guest, so eat the fucking ice cream at home!" Astarion drove a little faster, unintentionally of course, he's a lawyer by trade, he's not a fan of being sued. Not a good look.

"You're unbearable!"

"So are you. But we're friends, so I'll forgive you." Astarion said with no hint of theatrics in his voice. A rare occurrence.

"Likewise."

After a bit of silence they arrived at the drive through and Astarion rolled his window down.

"Welcome to Wc Deepalds, what can I get you?"

"Can I get a ummmmmmm iced coffee and two large fries, annddddd ummmm... Shart what do you want?"

"Ice cream with caramel sauce, an oreo shake and garlic sauce... For the fries." She, of course, crawled into Astarions lap to lean out the window, even though she really didn't need to.

"Alright, is that all?"

"Yes, thank you." The pale elf said, shoving his worstie back into the passanger seat and driving to the next window where they spent a few minutes waiting. "Of course a little goblin like you would know the menu of this... mistakenly popular establishment. I congratulate you on your VIP ticket to heart failure."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." The window opened and Astarion was handed a warm, delicious smelling paper bag of fatty liver disease. He paid with his papa Cazador money and drove away.

Shadowheart said "Gimme that." And took the bag of fast food. She dug right into her ice cream.

"Bon appetit, my friend."

"Thanks."

"Youre very welcome." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Hey what's up with that bearded guy you asked out? D'he text you yet?"

"Yes. About 30 minutes after I left the store. Eager." Astarions apartment is not far from them by now, they can see it in the distance. A sad beige building with several floors full of annoying neighbors.

"You like them when they're enthusiastic, don't you."

"I do, and what about it? I prefer to know that my partners enjoy themselves!"

Shart sighed. "Such a politically correct gentleman you are."

He nearly choked on his coffee trying to speak his next words. "I AM! And beautiful! Not enough people mention that." He parked his car, got out and began marching to the enterance without waiting for his esteemed guest.

She managed, carrying her gym bag and the Wc Deepalds goodies in her hands of holding. Astarion climbed the stairs with her following not far behind, he took out his keychain, which had about a dozen charms and was attached to one of those things that let you put it around your neck.

"Make yourself at home, darling."

"I will." She took her shoes off at the entrance before the pale elf put her head on a stick for it. "So, I was thinking dark makeu-"

"SAVE. IT. FOR. THE. CAMERA." He put his coffee down on the counter.

"Sheesh, okay." She plopped down on the couch. "Ugh, I don't know how long I can take working at that place."

"What was it this time."

"Just the usual neckbeard business. If we banned the customers that 'flirted' with me we'd be going out of business unfortunately. Can I have a drink?"

"But of course, dear." He opened the fridge and poured her a tall glass of delicious orange juice. Yummy.

"I was thinking of a more age restricted substance."

"We can drink after filming."

"Good... You know what, I'm taking a nap, you go ahead and do the camera things."

"Yeah, good idea. Sweet dreams!" She curled up on the couch and began lightly snoring in about 6 minutes. Astarion could never, he has horrible things to remember and he only finds a gap in his schedule for them right before bedtime.

He quietly went to his bedroom to get started setting everything up.

...

"Do you think this one's better?" Asked Gale, showing a picture on his phone to Wyll. "Or this one." He swiped left.

"I'm not sure, they're both very elegant. Is there a specific dress code? Like, a color scheme?" Wyll was not the best person to ask about this sort of thing, but he is the only person Gale was willing to talk to about it.

"I'm not sure, I can ask him tho."

"Do that, but don't tell him about what your outfit will be, trust me he'll love a surprise!" He tried to reassure the wizard with a smile but it went unnoticed, since the man in question was ferociously typing a message to his future husband and possibly father to their children.

The cafeteria was not busy, people are cooped up in their dorms studying and eating takeout. A shame, honestly, they're serving pizza today.

"Oh my weave he texted back!"

"What did he say?"

"Dark colors, preferably, but I won't get kicked out unless I look underdressed."

"Good thing you have no shortage of wizardly robes."

"True that.... I think I'll wear the purple one."

"Robe of summer? Good choice." He said, glass of water in hand. "I'm almost jealous, I do miss balls, but I don't miss the kids of people who attend them."

"Right, I forgot you were once a well coiffed little noblemanlet! You blend right in with the rest of us common folk!" He put his phone in his pocket but right as he was about to forget about it, he received another message. "It's him...."

"What is it about?" Gale read it, and turned a little red.

'It matters to me very little what wrappings are on a gift, all I care about is what's underneath.'

"Well, it could be interpreted in two different ways, I'm not sure what he really meant.." Gale showed his friend the text.

"I think... If you were to take offense to his boldness, he'd say he didn't mean it like that to not make you uncomfortable, but he definitely meant it like that!" He took a bite of his pizza, it's growing cold.

"That's smart." Gale took a deep breath and started typing. He then changed his mind and deleted all the letters, he could do better. He then literally typed out the exact same sentence.

'Well, it's quite impolite to give a gift without wrapping isn't it? Unwrapping is part of the fun!'

"Wyll my heart is pounding, I don't know how people do this whole dating thing casually..."

"I believe in you, you will persevere!"

"I hope you're correct." He got another notification.

"ITS A P-" He realized he was yelling and stopped, he calmly began anew. "He sent me a picture..."

"Open it." Wyll was very invested in this love story that he was merely an observer of. Gale opened the message, it was a picture of a camera setup.

"I was worried it would be a more anatomical image." Said Wyll.

"I doubt he'd do that. He seems more refined." Gale remembered he had pizza so he took a big bite as he thought of something to write. Another message came in the meantime.

'I neglected to mention but I do have an adorable side hustle of doing makeup on youtube~'

'No need, I recognized you.'

'That's cute. But I am going to be quite busy for the next few hours, you go ahead and enjoy your night darling'

'I will, thank you!'

Gale put his phone down. "Dear gods..." He breathed deep. "Wyll I think he put a spell on me!"

"I thought an evocation major would have noticed by now." Wylls pizza was long devoured, so he took to eating the suspiciously healthy looking salad they gave him.

"Or maybe I- He's just- hmmgh..." He bit into his slice of pizza once again. "I don't know, but he did something to me for certain!"

"You know, I think maybe you should worry less about it. He asked you out so he's clearly interested!"

"Stellar advice... I'm going back to dorm. Bye!" He took his tray to the tray receptacle (whatever it may be I hadn't been in a school cafeteria in a while) and dramatically went back to his building.

...

"Shart..." Poke. "Shaaart." Poke. Poke. "Jenevelle Hallowleaf, you wake up immediately or face my fury!"

"It's been at most 3 minutes, stop it!" He kept poking her. "Cease!" She sat up and grabbed Astarion.

"AGH! UNHAND ME YOU BASTARD!" She gave him the full sibling experience and slapped him with his own hand. "Stop hitting me!"

"Stop hitting yourself!" She chuckled and let go of him. He immediately stood up and smoothed his clothes out. "You changed?"

"Surely you didn't think I'd be recording the video in pajamas."

"You're right, going to the street in them was nowhere near as embarrassing." She said, stretching. "Let's get this done, I want to drink already."

"Yes, let's."

...

Gale tried on every fancy wizardly robe he has, the blue one, the yellow one, the other blue one, the purple one, he can't decide. He never even wears these, he's been living in sweats ever since he moved out of his mom's magic tower!

"I think you look quite dashing in this one Mr. Dekarios!"

"I don't feel very dashing." He admitted, looking at himself in the mirror he hexed to float.

"Maybe shaving would help."

"I'm certain it wouldn't. Maybe I ought to brush my hair." He held his hand out and a comb flew to him. He ran it through his glorious mane.

"Wash it." Tara jumped on the desk to see better. "You live like you're invisible, I'm surprised that this Asterion noticed you!"

"Ah-STAR-ion."

"Yes him, he has an eye for fixer uppers." She laid down on his laptop, sprawling out like it was the nicest pillow she ever touched. "Put your earring on too. And cologne!"

"Great idea... When Mystra-"

"I don't want to hear her name from your mouth." She headbutted him. "When is he picking you up?"

"Tomorrow at 8 i think, ill have to check."

"Then you have time until tomorrow to get yourself into shape, you will be fine. OH, why don't you put your hat on?"

"You said it would ruin my hair." He snapped his fingers and it appeared in the air above him.

"Well, I changed my mind, I think it goes very nicely with these robes!"

"Very well." The hat floated down to his head, crowning him the king of rizzards. "It does look good, thank you for the suggestion."

"Great, now that the outfit is decided on, go rest! Tomorrow is a big day."