#Writing proposition
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Am I allowed to complain that there is only one fic on AO3 where Ivan harms Gajeel in any way and I've A. already read it and B. Its not been updated since last year.
Like why is basically no one making stories about Ivan targeting Gajeel? Its great angst content. (Especially if its a ship between Gajeel and Laxus)
I honestly don't care if it has a ship or not. I just want Ivan wanting revenge on Gajeel angst dammit.
If I wasn't so preoccupied with writing the au then I would do it myself but between the main story, the several side stories and a random story about Laxus that is unrelated I can't do it justice right now.
Maybe in the future.
Just please. I'm begging. Someone do a story where Ivan does something to Gajeel. Blackmailing, threatening him, physically beating him, trying to kill him, giving him a permanant injury. Something. and tag me because I need my angst fix for this and I can not find it anywhere.
Or if someone knows of a fic like this on any platform, ao3, wattpad, fanfic, ect then please let me know.
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nerdallwritey · 4 months ago
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Awfully Fond of You
Request: i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little something for act 1, during the tiefling party for an autistic tav who has a crush on astarion but also has body insecurities + SA trauma, maybe instead of the usual scene that goes down they request to bathe with astarion instead? a tav with poor interoception (sense of awareness with one’s body) who loves to help and touch others but doesn’t quite register others touching them or how they feel about it but still craving intimacy with astarion is something i’m obsessed with (*^^*)*:.ïœĄ. .ïœĄ.:*ïœ„ă‚œïŸŸïœ„* i love your writing style and NEVER request so im super nervous!!  - đŸȘŽ (Link to original request here).
Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Rating: 18+ - no smut, but mature themes Word Count: 7.7k CW: Very vague alludes to SA trauma, reader is a sweetie pie, Astarion is an idiot as always - No explicit smut this time; this one's mostly fluff! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3
a/n: Hello folks! I come bearing my very first request fulfillment! As you can tell from the ask, đŸȘŽ anon wanted something very personal and sweet, and I'm incredibly honored that they chose me to see their vision come to life. I did my best to hit every beat they requested, while also staying true to my writing style, which, of course, means there's plenty of banter to be had. Yes, it is a bit similar to An Evening To Ourselves and Perfect Every Time (I swear I was in the middle of writing that one when I received this request), but I'm pleased with how this new remix of Astarion's Act 1 romance scene turned out! And yes, the title IS based on a lyric from everyone's favorite Sesame Street bath time song, "Rubber Duckie." HIT IT, BOYS! (Thank you, as always, to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) NOTE: This Tav is completely separate from bard!Tav and does not take place in the same universe as Beauty and the Bard. Part 5 of that coming soon! And my request box is open!
Without further ado, đŸȘŽ anon, I hope you like it!
The air in camp was abuzz with laughter and cheer. Booze flowed into goblets and down throats, and smiles graced the faces of nearly every guest currently in attendance of the last minute celebration thrown together by you and your companions.
With the goblins and their leaders defeated in what turned out to be a rather difficult encounter, Halsin and Zevlor had insisted on celebrating with you and your party at your campsite before the tieflings made their way to Baldur’s Gate within the next few days. 
Alfira supplied the evening with a somewhat constant stream of joyful songs, only stopping every so often to enjoy a drink with Lakrissa, while other tieflings danced and mingled with each other, relief and excitement making their shoulders relax as they reached for more goblets of wine. 
You were in the process of making your rounds through the party; you’d shared a drink with Shadowheart, some jokes with Gale and Karlach, a quiet moment with Wyll, and a confusing conversation with Lae’zel about limbs being torn from a neogi? You weren’t entirely sure what those even were, but you had to assume they were a fearsome creature if Lae’zel was bringing it up. 
That only left Astarion.
To be honest, you’d been avoiding him all night. Try as he might to catch your eye whenever you passed by, whether it be with a pointed clearing of his throat or a blatant call of your name, you would zero in on something else, and focus all your attention on that. Even if it meant sitting through an extended conversation with Volo. 
But now, there was nowhere left to go. Unless you opted to avoid him completely. And that would only lead to questions from your companions that you wouldn’t know how to answer.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. No. In fact, it was the exact opposite. You liked him a lot. And you weren’t sure what to do about it. 
Astarion was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and you were
 you. You’d been you, your whole life, and knew for a fact that the pair of you were an odd couple. Where he was crass, you were kind. Where he was violent, you opted to talk things through. 
And yet, you couldn’t help but enjoy spending time with him. His bloodlust was fascinating to watch, and you loved sparring both physically and verbally with him. More than once, you’d both saved the other’s ass in a sticky situation during battle. More than once, you’d allowed him to drink from you to ease his sanguine hunger. 
You were pretty sure that at the very least, he considered you a friend, though you weren’t sure he’d ever directly admit that to you. Unlike Gale and Wyll, who often reminded you how much they appreciated your friendship, Astarion was much tougher to read. Yet despite his somewhat malicious name calling and disapproval towards your actions, you couldn’t help but feel that he had a soft spot for you. Even when you were telling him he couldn’t kill a man in cold blood, it seemed like he legitimately enjoyed your company. The thought made you smile softly.
Taking in a deep breath and straightening your posture, you finally willed yourself to approach the vampire.
His eyes lit up in that way they often did when he was preparing to tease you.
“There you are, darling,” he said, dramatically. “I was worried I’d never see you again.”
“Worried I’d leave you, huh?” you teased with a smirk. 
Astarion tsked. “Perish the thought. But I recognize someone avoiding me when I see it.”
“Ah,” you clasped your hands in front of yourself, looking down at the ground, “you noticed that.”
“When I usually have to pry you away from me, yes, I noticed.” He took a swig of the wine he was holding.
You nodded and bobbed back and forth on your toes. “Best for last, I guess?” you shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him, hoping he’d drop the subject.
He hummed lamely. 
“So,” you perked up, “are you enjoying the party? I see you’ve been indulging in the spirits.”
“Watching me, were you?” Astarion smirked and you held up your hands, caught.
“Guilty.”
“You know,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I never pictured myself as a hero.”
You reached out to squeeze his arm. “Don’t say that.”
His eyes met yours, and he gently pulled his arm out of your grasp. He cleared his throat before continuing.
“Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here
” He closed his eyes and took another swig of his wine. When he brought the bottle away and opened his eyes, he met you with a scowl. “I hate it. This is awful.”
You laughed. “Really? Saving lives is awful?” 
Astarion rolled his eyes. “We killed some goblins to save some tieflings. The tally of lives didn’t change much.”
“You’re awful,” you shook your head affectionately. 
He looked smug before puffing his chest. “And what do I get for all my hard work?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“Nothing but a pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” 
You pursed your lips and reached for the bottle, brushing your fingers against his own. 
“Let me try,” you said, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a sip. Your tongue was flooded with the bitter taste of fermented grapes and something else you couldn’t place. Your face scrunched at the flavor and Astarion snorted.
“See what I mean? Awful.”
You handed the bottle back to him, smacking your tongue to get rid of the aftertaste. He took the opportunity to continue speaking.
“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”
You let out an amused scoff. “Knowing you, it probably is.”
Astarion lifted a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Oh, don’t be so sour. I like a good time as much as anyone.”
“‘Sour,’” you repeated, pointing at his wine bottle. “Good one.”
He smirked. “You know, we could always make our own entertainment, darling.”
“Oh, really?” You lifted an eyebrow. “And what does that entail?”
“We could get a little closer, so to speak.”
You were suddenly very aware of how close you were standing to Astarion. You took a considerable step backwards and crossed your arms. 
“Sorry, I was really close to you just now, wasn’t I?” You rubbed up and down your bicep awkwardly.
Astarion blinked before his face settled into a seductive smirk. He reached his free hand out to rest on your hip. “On the contrary, my dear. I rather like it when you’re close.”
“Oh, good,” you sighed in relief. You brought your hand down to where Astarion’s rested on your hip. “Sometimes I can’t tell.”
He chuckled, squeezing your hip slightly. “So what do you say?”
“To us getting closer? I don’t mind!” To emphasize your point, you took a step forward and rested your other hand on his shoulder.
Astarion furrowed his brow. Then he chuckled again, gently removing both of your hands from his body. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.”
“Okay, now I’m really interested in what kind of entertainment you have planned.” You smirked at him, sensing a shift in his tone, but unsure of what it meant. “Don’t tell me you’re a master of shadow puppets or something.”
He smiled skeptically. “Very funny,” he said slowly. “But I trust you’ll meet me?”
You giggled. “Yes, I’ll see you later, Astarion.” 
“Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.” Rather than bid you a proper goodbye, Astarion brought the wine bottle to his lips once more and turned away from you. 
You spun on your heel and made your way back to the party. 
This was fine. Good, even! Spending time one-on-one with Astarion was probably exactly what you needed if you wanted to navigate this silly crush you’d developed. Sure, he’d just called you “my love,” and that was a new one, but it wasn’t that much different from the other pet names he threw at you and your companions. You didn’t need this foolish infatuation distracting you on your journey or, gods forbid, diverting your attention during battle. No, this would be the perfect time to remind yourself and your fluttering heart that Astarion was, first and foremost, your friend, and a person. It didn’t need to be anything more than that. 
Your feet carried you not too far from Astarion’s tent and landed you at Karlach’s tent, the tiefling in question currently lying on her back, looking up at the stars.
“Hey, Hot Stuff,” you said, standing over her. 
“Soldier!” she grinned, her eyes a bit fuzzy from the wine. 
“This seat taken?” You kicked your foot over some dirt to her left. 
“All yours,” she said, sitting up to join you. 
You settled down next to her and watched the party still taking place at the center of camp. It sounded like Gale and Lae’zel were having some sort of heated argument over which main courses were best to prepare for battle, while Halsin awkwardly weaved between them to gather a plate of food for himself.
“Saw you chatting up Fangs just now,” Karlach playfully air-elbowed you, careful not to accidentally touch and scorch you. “Did he have anything good to say?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged. “He was an ass to me, I was an ass to him, the usual.”
Karlach nodded. “Sounds about right.”
You both sat in pleasant silence for a moment before you laughed a little. “It’s funny, he actually asked me to spend time with him tonight, after the party.”
Karlach furrowed her brow. “After the party? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” you shook your head, “he said we could ‘make our own entertainment.’” You made air quotes when you repeated his words. “I figure he wants to read together or something. It was just weird how he phrased it.”
She sat up a little straighter, her expression growing more serious. “Hang on, what were his words, exactly?”
You leaned back a little, confused by her sudden interest in your mundane conversation with the vampire. “Um
 I don’t know. He said he didn’t like being a hero, I told him not to say that, he said he wanted more than a pat on the head and bad wine, I tried the wine and it was bad, he said he wanted a little fun, ‘is that so much to ask?’ and I said ‘knowing you, it probably is,’ and then he said we could make our own entertainment. Or something like that.”
“Huh.” Karlach thought for a moment. “I think he means to bone you, Soldier.”
You sputtered out a laugh. “What?! No he doesn’t!”
“He sooooo does!” Karlach barked out a laugh. “And good for you! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”
“He does not,” you said again, trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince Karlach. 
But you faltered. 
“Does he?”
“Soldier,” Karlach lowered her head at you, giving you an incredulous look, “he was absolutely asking you to get nasty with him.” 
“Are you serious?”
“Yes!” she threw her hands up in the air. “We all see the way you look at each other! You practically undress one another with your eyes every time you see each other!”
“No we don’t!” you argued, but shrank back when Karlach raised an eyebrow at you. 
“You do. You know you do.” 
“Am I that obvious?” you asked, lifting your hands to your cheeks as you felt them heating up. 
Karlach started counting on her fingers. “He’s always the first one you check on after a battle, you’re always walking next to him when we’re traveling, AND you let him drink your blood. Weirdly often. Which is gross.”
“I like helping him,” you countered weakly. “And I always check on you guys, too!”
“Of course you do, Soldier, but we can all see how you two treat each other differently.”
You peered over at Astarion’s tent. He lounged comfortably amongst his pillows, a book propped open in his lap and his bottle of wine was not too far off. 
How could he be so casual and relaxed about all of this? The thought of talking to him later tonight made your stomach drop.
“What if I turn him down?” you asked softly, leaning forward to hug your knees.
Karlach’s expression softened. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She reached out a hand, but retracted it. “If I could, I’d rub your back like my mum used to do when I was a kid.”
You smiled over at her. “Thanks.”
She nodded. “If you don’t want to sleep with the leech, that’s your choice. Don’t let him talk you into it if it’s not what you want.”
“I’m not entirely sure what I want,” you admitted, looking up at the familiar stars above.
Karlach sighed. “Well, you don’t have to decide anything tonight.” She nodded her head towards his tent. “In fact, I could go beat the shit out of him, if you’d like.”
You laughed. “Not necessary. But I appreciate the offer.”
“I’ll do it.”
“I know you will,” you smiled and settled your cheek on top of your knee. “I do really like him,” you confessed.
Karlach thought for a moment. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem?” She cocked her head curiously.
You sighed. “Sex isn’t really something
 I have a great relationship with.”
“Ah,” Karlach nodded. “Same,” she joked, flaring her flames a little for good measure.
You snickered quietly. “I won’t get into it, but
 yeah. No thanks. For now, at least.”
“Say no more,” she held up her hand and turned to observe Astarion at his tent. “You could always just see what he has to say? Maybe he just wants to show you he’s a master at shadow puppets or something.”
“That’s what I said!” you laughed, and Karlach joined in.
When you’d both settled, she spoke again. “But seriously, Soldier. Astarion may be a freaky vampiric bastard, but I don’t think he’d hurt you.”
“I don’t think he would either.”
“He knows we’d kill him.”
“I’m sure you’d all take turns sending him to the hells.”
“You bet your sweet ass we would,” she brought her fist to her hand as if preparing to punch this hypothetical Astarion. 
After another quiet moment, she spoke again. “You don’t have to go with him tonight. Or, I could come with you, if you want. As backup.”
“Thanks,” you said, “but I think I need to have this conversation with him alone.”
“Of course.”
You looked back over at Astarion’s tent. He was now standing and stretching his arms over his head. When he caught you watching him, he smirked and threw a wink in your direction. You quickly snapped your head forward, back towards the center of the party. Groaning, you brought your hands up to cover your face.
“What am I gonna do?”
~~~~~
Staring into the trees ahead of you, you remained frozen in place. 
The party had died down and dispersed about an hour ago, giving you and your companions plenty of time to perform a quick cleanup and head to bed. And just as Astarion had said, once a peaceful quiet had enveloped the camp, he’d come to your tent and wordlessly motioned for you to follow him. 
Now you were wringing your hands, trying to convince yourself to follow after him into the forest.
Karlach was right: you didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do. And Astarion was a reasonable guy. 
To a degree.
Okay, no he wasn’t. 
He was always prepared to kill someone who wronged him in an instant. But surely he’d be reasonable in this department. Your gut told you that that was true. And if it wasn’t, you’d sicc Karlach and the others on him. 
You knew it wouldn’t come to that, though. You felt strongly that he was the type who wouldn’t react rashly to a rejection. 
Before you’d even made up your mind to do so, you found yourself walking into the trees, following the general direction you’d seen Astarion head off towards. The least you could do was hear him out. And who knew, maybe this would be a funny anecdote in your friendship later on down the line. Only time would tell.
It took a few minutes of mindless wandering before you reached a clearing. You kept going, prepared to keep walking until you eventually found Astarion, when you spotted him emerging from behind a tree in your peripheral. 
You screeched to a halt and turned to face him, growing stiff with nerves when you realized he was shirtless. 
“There you are,” he said, his hand lingering on the tree behind him. “I’ve been waiting.” 
He approached you slowly. 
Seductively. 
You stood completely still.
He continued, “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.”
You swallowed thickly.
He moved even closer. “Waiting to have you.”
“About that,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “what exactly do you mean?”
Astarion’s sensual expression morphed into one of confusion. Then he laughed a little. “Isn’t it obvious? Tonight is about pleasure.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” you muttered.
While you were pretty sure he heard you, Astarion pressed on anyway. 
“Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”
“Astarion,” you said quickly, surging forward to grab his hands in yours, “please.”
He looked surprised, but quickly recovered with an alluring smirk. “Please what, darling?”
“We don’t have to.”
Astarion narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Don’t have to what?”
You groaned and leaned your head forward to rest on his bare shoulder. After a second you lifted your face back up to look at him. “We don’t have to sleep together.”
This time, Astarion looked stunned. “Then
 what are you doing here?” 
You shrugged. “I thought we could talk.”
Astarion pulled away from you and took a step back. “‘Talk?’ I thought we had an understanding?”
“See, that’s the thing,” you said, “I did not understand.”
“Hmm,” he hummed and tilted his head in disbelief.
“I’m serious,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “I thought you wanted to spend time together.”
“Oh, but I do,” his lips quirked up mischievously. “I mean to spend the entire night with you, my dear.”
“And while that sounds great, I think you and I are having different thoughts about how to spend that time.” You held his gaze, willing him to hear you.
He humphed. “So you don’t want to have sex with me?”
“Not right now, no.”
He sputtered his lips together and threw his arms up. “And what does that mean?”
“It means
 It means I don’t want to have sex right now. At all.” You watched his face scrunch in incredulity. “It has nothing to do with you!” you clarified, grabbing one of his hands again. “Believe me, this is all me.”
Astarion looked you up and down, scanning your body language. You still held his hand and leaned into him ever so slightly. 
“What’s this then?” he asked, placing his free hand over the hand holding his.
You pulled away from him completely. “Sorry,” you said, “I end up touching the people I like. I don’t realize I’m doing it.”
He narrowed his eyes, putting the pieces together in his head. 
“You like me.”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t want to sleep with me.”
“Yes.”
“So
 what? You want to be friends or something?” He made a sour expression.
You laughed softly. “I’d like to think we’re already friends, actually.”
“And why would you think that?” Astarion asked, but you saw in his eyes that he was teasing.
You smiled lightly. “Maybe because you won’t stop following me around FaerĂ»n?”
“Well, it’s not like I-”
“Or maybe because you’ve had a taste of my blood and now you can’t get enough?”
“Okay, that’s-”
“Or maybe because Karlach said you treat me differently than you treat everyone else.”
“She did not!” Astarion sounded genuinely scandalized and you laughed.
“Face it, pretty boy, you like me, too.”
Astarion groaned and rolled his eyes. “This is not at all going how I planned.”
You pursed your lips and wrapped your arms around yourself again. “Sorry.”
He glanced back at you and saw you staring at the ground. He sighed. 
“No, I’m sorry, darling.”
You met his eyes. He stepped closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch. 
“I assumed you wanted the same thing as me, and I was wrong.”
“It’s okay,” you assured. “You couldn’t have known.”
“Still,” he said, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek, “I misread your touches as advances rather than
” He searched for the proper words. “One of your quirks.”
You exhaled, amused. “You didn’t entirely misread me.”
“Pardon?”
“I do like you. A lot. And if things were different, maybe I would sleep with you, but
”
Astarion pulled away from you and held up a hand. “No explanation needed, darling.” He smirked. “But it's good to know how you feel.”
You felt your cheeks go red. “Yeah,” you said, suddenly shy.
Astarion clicked his tongue. “You’re so adorable when you’re thinking of what to say.”
You shook your head and patted your cheeks. “I have another idea,” you said.
He nodded for you to continue and crossed his arms.
“Um
 if it’s alright with you, I
” You paused, not exactly sure how he’d react. 
“What is it, darling?”
“I’d like to
 bathe you.”
Astarion uncrossed his arms and looked rather dumbfounded.
“What?”
Your words came out clumsily and a little too fast: “Or not! I don’t know, I just like you so much, and I’d like to be closer to you but I don’t want to have sex with you so I thought maybe we could get closer another way, or maybe-”
“Okay,” Astarion interrupted.
“Huh?”
He moved closer to you and brushed some hair out of your face.
“Okay,” he repeated softly. “Let’s bathe together.”
“Oh,” you said, disbelief painting your features. 
Astarion laughed. “Did you assume I’d say no?”
You shrugged as a smile grew on your face. “I don’t know what I expected,” you reached for his hand, “but I’m really glad you said yes.”
~~~~~
The walk back to camp was pleasantly silent, save for the crickets singing their nightly aria. Astarion kept pace with you, the back of your hands brushing every so often, each time sending a tiny shock wave through your body. 
This was happening. You were going to have a private, intimate moment with Astarion. Even if it hadn’t been what he originally intended, you were happy to think of a compromise that still allowed you to get close to him in a way that you knew the others in camp hadn’t, and probably wouldn’t. It made you feel special.
Happy.
And nervous. 
Nervous as all hells, to be honest. You felt your heart speeding up with every step you took, bringing you closer to camp.
“Something wrong, darling?” Astarion asked, giving you a sideways glance.
You jumped a little when his voice broke the silence. “Huh?”
“Your heart, love. It’s pounding.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “Nervous?”
“Oh, that.” You held a hand to your chest and focused on slowing your breathing. When you turned to look at him, you asked, “Is that weird?”
“Seeing as how this was your suggestion, maybe a little.” He smiled and nudged his shoulder into yours.
You groaned. “If this is too weird, let’s just not.”
Astarion halted and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He spun you to look into his eyes. “Whatever’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, darling, cut it out.”
“Oh, okay great. Done.”
“Really?”
“No, not really!” You narrowed your eyes at him.
He sighed. “Never is that easy, is it?”
It was a rhetorical question, but you shook your head anyway. 
“Well, whatever’s making you nervous, I’ll strive to steer clear of it.”
He looked at you expectantly, as if he wanted some sort of explanation. You avoided his eyes and moved to continue walking towards camp. He followed close behind.
“It’s just that
” you paused, trying to collect your thoughts. “I haven’t been
 naked in front of someone. For a while.”
Astarion bit his lip, mirth in his eyes.
“Don’t laugh!” you exclaimed, mortified.
“No, no, darling!” His tone was gleeful. “Apologies. It’s just that that’s what’s making you nervous? I’ll have you know that you’re one of the more beautiful creatures who I’ve attempted to bed. You have nothing to fear. I’ve seen all manner of bodies and I can assure you, yours will be nothing short of exquisite. In fact, your shyness is rather endearing.” He smiled at you, looking like he might still be withholding a laugh.
You flattened your lips into a line. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” You began walking ahead of him but stopped when you heard him call your name.
“I may be a rake and a thief, but I’m no liar.”
You blinked at him. “Yes you are! You lie all the time!”
“Okay, yes, sure, but I don’t lie about things that matter! Things like this!” He motioned up and down, indicating your body.
Just as he did so, the two of you emerged from the trees and into camp. You held a finger to your lips and indicated for him to be quiet. He nodded and padded after you as you crept quietly towards the shore of the lake that lapped quietly next to your sleeping campsite. You bent to pick up towels, along with the bucket that held soap and other washing supplies that you and your companions shared in an effort to stay clean on the road. You held them up and motioned for Astarion to follow you again, away from where Withers stoically kept watch, and more towards where you’d spoken with Wyll earlier in the evening. When you turned to face Astarion, his eyes were full of questions.
“Are you sure you still want to do this?” you asked.
He perked up and grinned. “My love, there is nothing I’d like more.”
You searched his eyes one more time to make sure he was serious. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you motioned for him to step into the lake. 
“Ladies first,” you teased, looking anywhere but at Astarion.
He, in turn, looked down his nose at you. “I know what this is,” he said, pointing a lazy finger at you.
“What’s what?”
“You’re stalling, darling.”
“I am not!”
Astarion crossed his arms and tilted his head towards you, unimpressed.
Your posture fell into a slouch. “Okay fine, maybe I am stalling.”
“Really?” Astarion said dramatically before dropping his arms to his sides again. He approached you, close enough to where you could feel his cool breath on your face. 
He placed both of his hands on your hips. You looked down to watch as his fingers drummed a calming rhythm into your sides. He whistled quietly, gaining your attention. 
“Let’s start here,” he suggested, now fingering the hem of your shirt. He refused to let you look away. 
You nodded.
“Good,” he purred as you raised your arms and helped him take off your shirt. 
The cool air of the evening immediately sent goosebumps down your arms, and you unconsciously crossed them over your chest for warmth.
Astarion tsked. “Come now,” he protested and placed two gentle hands on your wrists, guiding them to your sides. “Lovely,” he praised once he was able to look at you. 
You made an uncomfortable sound before placing your hands on your waistband. 
“These probably need to come off next, right?”
“Typically that’s how one bathes themself, yes.”
“Right,” you agreed, watching as Astarion mirrored you and reached for his own waistband. You looked down at your legs as you removed your pants, leaving you in only your underwear. 
“Goodness, love,” Astarion said quietly and you looked at him shyly. He himself was now only in his underwear. “You have nothing to be shy about. You’re magnificent.”
“Would you shush and get into the water please?” you half teased, half begged. Anything  to end this weird tension you were feeling. 
“Alright,” he laughed softly before reaching for the waistband of his underwear. He looked at you for approval. When you nodded, he removed them in one fluid motion as if he’d done this a million times. Maybe he had.
Regardless, you couldn’t help but stare at the space between his legs.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Eyes up here.”
“Sorry,” you said, immediately flicking your eyes up to his face. “I didn’t- It’s just-”
Astarion chuckled. “I understand.”
“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. 
“Your turn,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.
You bit your lip and slowly reached for your underwear. When you pulled them off, Astarion watched you without a hint of judgment in his eyes. You ran a hand through your hair and shifted nervously on your feet. 
He held out a hand to you and you stared at it before looking up at his face. He rolled his eyes.
“I’m not going in this frigid water alone, are you mad?”
You laughed and took his hand. He instantly pulled your body to his, holding you so that you were chest to chest. He gave you a seductive smirk before leaning in. You leaned away, avoiding his advances. You shook your head ever so slightly before stepping into the gentle water. Astarion remained standing on the shore before following after you. 
Braving the cold of the water, you sunk down until you were sitting in neck deep water. You let the bucket you’d brought with you float next to you as Astarion crept through the water, clearly freezing. 
“Why did I let you convince me to bathe at night? There’s no sun out to warm this wretched lake.”
You ducked your mouth below the surface to blow some bubbles in his direction. “You should know by now that dunking your whole body helps you warm up faster.”
He gave you a dirty look before slowly sinking down in front of you, yelping and contorting his face the entire time. You couldn’t help but squawk out a laugh. 
When he was fully seated, he pulled you towards him, making you sit in his lap. He gave you a sensual look that had you frowning and pulling back. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“When I said I wanted to bathe you, that’s all I meant.”
“Ah.” His tone was confused. Then he shook his head. “Right, sorry. This is - well
 you know.” He smiled, looking like he was admitting defeat and that he wasn’t pleased about it. “I have no idea what to do with you.”
You swam behind him, pulling the bucket of soap towards you and laying your hands on both of his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything.”
He spun to face you. “Nothing?”
You nodded and he huffed out a laugh. “No sex, no fooling around
I’m sorry, darling. It’s just - having to slow down, it’s
 I’m just not used to it.” 
“That’s okay,” you rested your hands on his shoulders again. “We’re in no rush.”
He hummed. “Can you
 I don’t know. Help? Show me what to do?”
Laughing, you took his hand. “I’ll try.”
You led your weightless bodies into shallower water and had Astarion sit facing away from you, towards the shore. Reaching for the bucket again, you pulled out a bar of soap and a sponge. 
“Relax,” you cooed, seeing how tensely he held his shoulders close to his ears. 
He let loose a breath and you watched as he relaxed his muscles. Your eyes traveled lower, suddenly catching a glimpse of a complicated and gruesome scar on his back. Your eyes widened, taking in how the water and moonlight reflected off of it. Calmly, you dipped the sponge in the water and added soap before gently rubbing his right shoulder. Astarion melted further, allowing his neck to tilt forward, which, in turn, gave you a better view of his scarred flesh.
“Um
 Is it okay for me to wash your back?” you hesitated in bringing the sponge across his shoulder and over his back to his other shoulder.
“Why wouldn’t - oh. I suppose you’re talking about the poem.” He barely looked over his shoulder at you.
“I’ve never seen a poem like this,” you said quietly, a hint of anger in your voice.
He chuckled darkly in response. “It’s a gift from my old master, Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. Do you like it, darling?” He shimmied his shoulders, mockingly preening over the evidence of his own torment.
“Not at all,” you said evenly, continuing to wash his shoulders. 
“Ouch, love, you’d hurt his feelings if he heard that.” Not a hint of joy reached his eyes.
“I don’t much care about the feelings of this old master of yours.”
“Oh, be still, my undead heart,” he held a hand to his chest sarcastically. Then he sighed. “You’re allowed to wash it. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” His voice was quiet when he said, “Thank you for asking.”
Wordlessly, you moved the sponge from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades. 
“I’m not going to break,” he laughed softly, “you don’t have to be so gentle.”
You increased the pressure you were applying to his skin before adding more soap to the sponge. “Move up a little,” you instructed, tapping him to move closer to the shore. “Lean forward.”
Now you had a better angle to wash away the grime of the road from his back, and an even better view of the scar. You clicked your tongue and set to work. 
Perhaps uncomfortable by your silence, Astarion began to speak again. “He, Cazador, composed and carved that poem over the course of a night.” There was a venom to his words. Maybe a deep regret, or a weighing sadness. “He made a lot of revisions as he went.”
Your hand paused over a particularly brutal ridge. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against the raised tissue. “You’re brave for enduring that.”
“What are you doing?” Astarion straightened, making you push your cheek further into his skin. 
You pulled back immediately. “Sorry, I wanted to hug you. I should have asked. I just
 wanted you to know that I care.”
Astarion looked over his shoulder at you blankly. “You ‘care?’”
You nodded. “Turn back around, let me keep washing you.”
He gave you a slight nod before facing forward again and leaning over. 
After another silent moment of gliding the sponge across his back, you asked, “Any idea what it means? Or is it just some pattern?”
Astarion let out an unamused laugh. “Hells if I know. Not sure how much you know about vampires, darling, but typically, we can’t see our reflections.” He spoke as if talking to a child. 
You splashed his back with a small wave from your hand. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“You’re lashing out at me when I was just asking a question.”
“I-” He paused. Then he fell silent.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped but
 I’m not your enemy,” you said gently. “We don’t have to keep talking about this. We don’t have to talk at all.”
Astarion groaned. “Silence is dreadful, darling.”
“Is that why you never stop talking?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again.
“Good one,” he said flatly, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “I only talk because you lot never have anything interesting to say.”
You scoffed with a smile. “I have plenty of interesting things to say!”
“Oh, really? Like what?”
“Like-” you thought for a moment. “Like the other day! When I was talking with you about your embroidery!” By now you’d moved on to washing over Astarion’s arms. You spun him to face you so you could wash and massage his hands. 
Astarion clicked his tongue. “Unfortunately, darling, that’s not an entirely interesting topic, seeing as how I was in the middle of mending a shirt and you just wanted an excuse to talk to me.”
“I did not!” you denied, massaging between his fingers. Unconsciously, his fingers curled around yours before retracting and flexing. 
“Deny all you want, you still didn’t say anything interesting.”
“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “If I’m so uninteresting, why did you want to spend the evening with me of all people?” You were massaging his other hand. 
“You-” He paused again.
“I?”
“You’re
 I’m still trying to figure you out.” His voice grew softer when you pulled yourself closer to wash across his chest. You sensed the shift and looked up at his face to make sure he was okay with your actions. When he nodded minutely, you continued. 
“If you’re trying to figure me out
 one might say that you’re interested in me.”
He groaned. “Say whatever you want to help you sleep better tonight, darling.”
“Uh huh,” you said pleasantly to yourself, feeling like you’d won. You looked away to add more soap to the sponge and when you looked back, you realized how close you were to his face. His pupils were blown wider than usual and you could see yourself reflected in his eyes against the moonlight. His breath tickled your face. 
He watched you with an intensity that had you hesitating. Why was he so-?
“Look up,” you said, looking up yourself to demonstrate what you wanted. “Please.”
He held your gaze for as long as he could before looking up at the sky. 
You carefully brushed the sponge along his throat, pausing briefly when you got to the twin wounds on his throat from the night he was turned. You circled them gently with the sponge before rinsing the suds with water cupped in your hand. A shiver ran through Astarion’s body.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
“Yes,” he said looking back down at you once you’d finished rinsing the suds away. “But I’d very much like to kiss you.”
You blinked a few times before resting your forehead against his. When you pulled back, you asked, “Is it okay for me to wash your hair?”
Astarion looked at you for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again. “I suppose so,” he said.
“I don’t have to. Your legs are still-”
“I can handle my own lower half, thank you.” He winked at you.
You smiled and handed him the sponge before bringing yourself to rest behind him again. You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water.
“You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket for Astarion to see.
“I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.”
“A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.”
“I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 
Instead of dumping the entire bucket on his head like you threatened, you poured a gentle stream along the back of his skull before moving forward to evenly wet the rest of his hair. 
“Bloody hells, that is cold,” he pushed some flattened curls out of his face.
“For being a fearsome vampire, you sure are a wimp,” you teased. 
“I could rip your throat out.”
“And I might be able to drown you.” You placed firm hands on both his shoulders and pushed gently, as if you wanted to test your theory. 
“Terrifying,” he smirked, running the sponge along his legs underwater.
“You should see what I did to those goblins who were holding Halsin hostage.”
Astarion laughed. “I know, darling, I was there. Who knew you could be so hellbent on vengeance?”
You laughed softly, coating your hands in soap before running them through his curls. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Like?” he prompted.
“Astarion!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “You want to know more about me?”
“Well if I knew you’d make a fuss, I wouldn’t have said anything.” Despite his tone, his eyes were closed in pleasure as you continued to massage his scalp. 
You chuckled quietly, trying to think of something to share with him. 
“I’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate my whole life,” you started.
“A shame we never crossed paths.”
“I’m not entirely sure you’d spare me a passing glance.”
Astarion opened his eyes. “Don’t say that.”
You shrugged. “I read a lot, growing up, and liked being indoors. But I also liked the outdoors. I helped my dad tend our garden, and helped my mom cook dinner–”
“How quaint.”
“We’d visit my aunt in the Upper City every Midwinter, and I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.” 
“Pity, you have such a promising career as a spa keeper.”
You examined Astarion’s head to make sure you hadn’t missed a spot. When you were pleased with your own work, you continued: “This is the first big adventure I’ve ever been on.”
“First brain worm?” Astarion opened one eye and pointed to his temple.
You laughed and nodded. 
He smiled. “Mine, too.”
You filled the bucket with more water and held a hand over his forehead to keep soapy water from splashing into his eyes when you poured the fresh water over his foamy locks. 
Astarion sighed as the soap began to wash away. You filled the bucket again to repeat the process. 
“Did you ever foresee yourself bathing a beautiful vampire, when you were a child?”
You pursed your lips. “I mean, I had my hopes.” You smiled as he let out a laugh. 
“Tonight definitely didn’t go how I expected,” he admitted.
“You didn’t foresee yourself getting bathed by your incredibly interesting leader?”
He let out an amused breath from his nose. “No I did not.”
You finished rinsing out the last of the soap from his hair, but continued raking your fingers through it. “Are you disappointed?” Your voice was small.
He turned to face you, making your hands disconnect from his curls. “Not at all,” he said, sounding genuine. “Pleasantly surprised, actually.” He thought for a moment. “And cleaner than I’ve been in weeks. Probably.”
You laughed. “Happy to have provided my services.”
He smiled at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “This was nice.” He lifted his hand to swipe through his hair. “Let’s hope you didn’t ruin my hair.”
“With soap and water?”
“You might have done it wrong,” he teased.
“How? It’s soap and water!”
“Not so loud,” he chuckled, nodding his head towards camp. You could vaguely hear Gale snoring in the distance. 
“I’m leaving,” you joked, moving to get up, but Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into the water.
“Am I not to return the favor?”
You looked back at him and half smiled, patting his cheek. “I’m not convinced you’d do a thorough enough job.” With that, you pushed away from him and got up, gathering the bathing materials and walking back to shore where towels awaited. 
Astarion sputtered behind you. “How dare you! I could give you a massage, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before!”
“You know, sometimes, Astarion, people do things for other people, and don’t want anything in return.” You threw the towel over your head to start drying your hair before wrapping it around your body. 
Astarion did the same before bending to pick up your discarded clothes. “I- Well
 You-” He sighed heavily. “You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?”
“I’m not trying to be,” you shrugged.
“And yet,” he sidled up next to you, offering you his arm, “you are.” 
You took his arm in one hand and the bucket of washing supplies in the other and followed him as he led you back into camp. You placed the materials back where you found them and brought your newly freed hand up to wrap around Astarion’s arm. You leaned your head onto his shoulder. 
When you arrived at your tent, he handed you your clothes. 
“I suppose this is where we end our evening,” he said quietly so as not to wake the others.
“I suppose so,” you agreed, your eyes shining as you looked at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Thank you for letting me do that,” you said, still holding his arm. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”
“I did,” he said. “Very much, actually.” When he saw the excited look on your face, he amended, “Don’t be weird.”
“I’m not weird,” you said, weirdly.
“Uh huh,” Astarion said, pulling his arm out of your grip, not unkindly.
“We can do it again,” you bobbed on your feet, “if you want.”
“I
 could be persuaded,” he nodded.
“Good,” you said. Then you surged forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. Goodnight Astarion.” You turned and ducked down into your tent.
“Pleasant dreams, darling,” he said softly. 
You didn’t see how his hand lingered on his cheek where your lips had made contact, didn’t see the small smile that crept onto his face or the mask beginning to slip. 
Instead, you had pleasant dreams filled with laughs and curls and a flash of fangs accompanied by a smile of delight. 
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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 29 days ago
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Who do you think has the highest twst equivalent of doulingo streak?
It started as a joke between Gloomurai and MuscleRed to compare their duolingo streaks and see who can get a higher score.
Riddle found it intriguing and dabbled for quite a while before it got a bit stale to him. There's better ways to learn language in his eyes.
Cater doesn't do it but he makes the Spanish or Vanish memes
No one expected Malleus to even be able to use a phone well enough for him to be on his day 1087 streak. It is the only way he knows how to use it. The little owl is like his Gao Gao Dragon and needs daily enrichment! Doesn't see what all the fuss about the owl being a menace. Clearly you haven't been taking good care of Duo.
However none of them compare to Yuu, who's painstakingly taking notes as they're learning two languages at once from the app since their own language doesn't exist in TWST. Almost a year here and they still don't know honorifics but they do know how to ask if someones boyfriend is a horse with various slurs picked up by students.
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remembertheplunge · 3 days ago
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Ugly Betty says NO to Prop 8 (2008)
October 31, 2008
Jim bought a life size Obama (card board cut out)—it stands by our front door.
Neighbors in the last duplex across the street put up two “No on 8” signs and an Obama sign yesterday. 
The “Yes on 8” duplex across the street pointed their sign toward our house. Actually, they have two.   And they put up a McPalin sign after we put up the life sized Obama.
Ugly Betty, her Dad and sister did a “No on 8” ad last night during Ugly Betty, aimed at Latinos. 
It ran later, too.
Diane Feinstein also has a powerful ad “it will change the constitution. It (Prop. 8) equals discrimination.”
The Yes on 8s stole Troy’s  porch light.  They put in their porch light. 
End of entry
Notes: 1/4/2025
You can see that Project 25 was already brewing with the advent of Proposition 8 and its ban on gay marriage which passed in 2008. 2008 is not that long ago. Even though Proposition 8 was later overturned and the right for gays to marry has been made a part of the California Constitution as of November 5, 2024 passage of Proposition 3, there are lots of people out there like our across the street "Yes on 8" neighbor mentioned in the above 2008 entry. They want to force us back into the dark pre Stone Wall days. In other words , they want us silenced, back in the closet and locked in forever. We have to "point our signs" back at them and say, no, we are out, proud and we are not going back. Once you see, you cannot unsee!
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teaoftheoldestflower · 2 years ago
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daggers
The hero's heart was in their throat, the rough stone of the wall scraping coldly against their back. They tried to quell the sound of their haggard breaths, letting out a soft moan of pain at the deep gash on their arm. They clamped their lips shut, hands clenching around their daggers.
As if it wasn't enough that they'd just made an enemy of every hero in the city - hell, in the entire country - the villain had found them. And now, of all times, when the hero wouldn't even get paid for fighting them.
And a team of heroes was probably on their tail already, depending how quickly they'd noticed their bed was empty last night.
They were fighting a villain they had nothing against, after having slept in a dumpster. If that wasn't the definition of pathetic, the hero didn't know what was.
"Come on out... you smell like shit, by the way. Do they not clean those hero dorms or something?"
"Don't clean the dumpsters out back, sadly." The hero drew in a breath before they turned and spun out from behind the building.
The villain lowered their swords, cocking their head at the hero. "What, you sleep in dumpsters now?"
"Mental breakdown, ran away, none of your damn business." The hero chucked a dagger towards the villain, which clattered helplessly to the ground a little to their left.
The villain paused, seemingly considering for a second, before they slid both swords back into their respective sheaths. "In that case," - they dipped into a slight bow, presenting a hand to the bruised and battered hero - "I have a proposition for you."
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hertwood · 21 days ago
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oops
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tj-crochets · 10 months ago
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Hey y'all! I am in the mood for some new (to me) music. Do you have any recommendations for songs that make you want to dance? No limits on genre or language, but if you're sending me a link to a specific music video please give me a heads up if it has flashing lights (if possible). Thanks!
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laysean87 · 1 year ago
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This story is my first Avatar: TLOK fanfic. A Lin/Asami crack pairing that was written off the top of my head, and wasn't outlined or anything.
Might consider doing some more of these two in a proper story once I'm finished with doing Teen Titans, Justice League/Justice League Unlimited, and Young Justice stuff on AO3.
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Christopher Diaz Has Two Dads, Idiots in Love, literally they're SUCH idiots in this, PTA dad eddie diaz, alternate description: eddie is dramatic for 7000 words Summary:
“Uh, that’s not all,” Eddie says, before he loses his nerve. “I was hoping you’d come as my—partner.” He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth, because genuinely, this is the stupidest goddamn idea. Shannon is probably cackling wherever she is over the fact that Eddie is acting the man he is very tragically in love with to be his—fucking fake boyfriend, or something, just to avoid the attention of some PTA parents.
Buck blinks at him. “Are you—you want to pretend to be in a relationship to get Heather Paul off your back?” he asks, fingers squeezing around Eddie’s pulse point a little.
 or, eddie asks buck to come to christopher’s parent-teacher conference with him as his boyfriend. it’s fine. really.
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remembertheplunge · 10 months ago
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Proposition 8 on the ballot in 2008 in California banned gay marriage in the State. The proposition ultimately passed on November4, 2008.
Prior to voting day on the proposition, I wrote the following about it on one page of my 2008 journal:
4.52pm September 30, 2008
I saw the first “Yes on 8” bumper sticker. It’s yellow and blue and shows a stick figure family holding hands. It was on the bumper of a tan pick up truck which also included two other bumper stickers: one advertised a Catholic Radio station. The other promoted Republican John Mc Cain for President. The pick up turned from Tully onto Roseburg. At Brady and Roseburg, No on 8 signs were on both sides of the street.
My margin notes to above :
12/6/2008: A lawyer friend of mine told me that one of our local investigators that we use on our criminal cases still had a “Yes on 8” bumper Sticker on his car bumper. (I would, as a result, never hire that investigator to work on my cases after that.)
7/19/2010. I still see the Yes on 8 bumper stickers now and then.
Note.
3/10/2024
I haven’t seen a Yes on 8 bumper sticker around Modesto, Ca for many years now.
But the fact that cars still displayed them in 2010, 2 years after the Election affirming Prop 8, shows how deeply ingrained and public anti gay sentiment was among some then.
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keicordelle · 1 year ago
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The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Beauty Standards
(Quick note for context, the Haurchefant of Keshet’s world, and therefore the Haurchefant here, is the Haurchefant from the French localization, who is a lot more blatant about his sexual advances than he is in the English. Keshet is, er, not thrilled about this, to say the least.)
Keshet was aware that he was an attractive man, by auri standards - they had mirrors in the East too, and he was not blind to his own reflection, even if his appearance mattered less to him than his skill at arms. With his lustrous black scales, prominent horns, long spiked tail, and overwhelming height, he was fairly used to being propositioned by men and women alike on the Steppe.
He just hadn't expected that interest to follow him over to Eorzea.
The first time Haurchefant suggested they get to know each other better, he passed it off as a friendly overture. After all, it was clear from the first moment they'd met that the Elezen was gregarious, and it made sense that he'd wish to become acquainted with a capable warrior like Keshet. They had lunch together with Francel after saving him from an untimely death at the bottom of Witchdrop, and he figured that was that.
The second time, the request was a little more overt, but still nothing so obvious that Keshet picked up on it. After all, Elezen did not have horns or tails, and surely the things that marked him as striking among his own people meant little to a race that were effectively long-eared hyur (though he'd found out the hard way not to make such a comment in front of one). And the invitation to work out was innocuous enough, even if the interest in his muscles seemed a little unusual. Then again, it was a perfectly reasonable comment between close friends - Keshet reckoned he'd probably made similar remarks himself back home - and perhaps Elezen simply bonded more quickly than Au Ra did.
The third time, though... The third time, there could be no doubt that Haurchefant's suggestion that they go back to his room together was anything other than a proposition. Keshet recoiled, more in shock than disgust, eyes flicking down from Haurchefant's easy grin all the way to his iron-clad toes and back up to the top of his silvery-blue crown. There wasn't a single scale on his body, he had no tail or horns, and not a single visible scar to counter these shortcomings. His only real physical appeal was his height, which, while short by auri standards, was still enough to satisfy, and the breadth of his shoulders, which seemed to hint at a strong build beneath his bulky armor. In short, by Keshet's standards, he was really not very attractive at all, and more than a little presumptuous to boot, to ask so directly when they hardly knew each other.
And what did Haurchefant find attractive about him anyway? Surely his kind did not value the same features as the Au Ra, when they did not even sport horns and tails. Surely they must judge beauty be the length of your ears or some such metric. Keshet didn't even have ears! Or at least not visible ones. Perhaps, he decided, glancing over at the shirtless men doing squats by the fireplace, perhaps Haurchefant was merely a deviant. That would make sense, and, satisfied with this explanation, Keshet relaxed and recovered from his floundering enough to turn down the offer. (If only that had deterred him.) Later, he was relieved to learn from several others than Haurchefant was known for his peculiar proclivities, and he did not need to fear fending off such propositions from every Elezen he met.
A hope that was dashed when he met Aymeric, who, within a few conversations, insinuated he'd like to take Keshet back to his place and get to know him better.
"What is it with Elezen men?" Keshet grumbled to himself after he'd politely refused. Aymeric had taken the rejection in stride, seemingly unbothered and no less friendly after than he had been before. "Why do they all seem to want to get in my pants?"
(Fortunately, after several moons spent in the company of the Ishgardians, he leaned that this was not, in fact, a universal trait of Elezen men, and that it was his stature and his strength that attracted those who did, which made his stay in Ishgard significantly less uncomfortable than it might otherwise have been.)
Read the rest of the series on Ao3!
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driftward · 1 year ago
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Title: Proposition Characters: Klynt Gohtawyn, Zoissette Vauban Rating: Teen Summary: Klynt makes a pass at Zoissette. Zoissette redirects. Notes: This happens some time in the ARR patch series
Klynt found Zoissette in her usual place in the Rising Stones, sitting at a table, her legs kicked out far under the seat across from her. She was, apparently, engrossed in some reading or another.
Klynt crossed her arms, and leaned against a wall, thinking for a moment. It was quiet, they were alone, and she was, frankly, bored.
And maybe a little randy.
And maybe Zoissette hadn't had a break in a while.
"Zooo~ooooo." she said in a sing-song voice.
"Klynt," said Zoissette.
"Whatchu doin'?"
Zoissette let out a long, beleaguered sigh. "Tataru asked me to help her with some budget reconciliations. She wanted me to review the ledger and verify her work."
"I got something else for you to review, if you're interested?"
"Oh?"
Klynt grinned saucily and teased one of the straps on her top. When Zoissette's attention didn't waver from the books, she pouted for a moment before letting out a shrill, sharp, attention-fetching whistle. Zoissette startled, looking up.
"Fury -preserve-, whatever - oh."
"Oh," said Klynt with a wink, wiggling her shoulder so as to just -barely- not tease her strap loose.
"...you want me to review the pertinent assets and check that you have filled out everything appropriately, I take it?"
Zoissette's words were flirty, but her tone was deadpan, as she shifted her attention back to her books. Klynt wrinkled her nose.
"Zo. Zo, I'm serious."
"So am I. I take asset analysis very seriously. It is a well explored field, to be sure, but one which I feel very confident I could quickly find my depth in."
She frowned, and scribbled a note in the margins.
"Zo," Klynt huffed. "I am -trying- to -proposition- you for -reals-. You're hot. I'm hot. Let's tumble."
At this, Zoissette finally looked up at Klynt over her glasses, giving her a long, measured look, and then sighed, looking away.
"I do not mind the innuendo and banter, that is entertaining enough, but I would appreciate it if you would not make fun of me."
Klynt was no longer feeling hot, but she suddenly was feeling rather bothered, and could feel her temper rising.
"Swa-set, -look- at me."
Zoissette met her gaze. Klynt noticed that the woman had her guard up, now. It was easy to tell. Just had to look at her shoulders. It was hard to not notice when they had gone tense. Klynt squared herself up, a little unable to believe she was facing this situation like it had teeth. "I, Klynt Gohtawyn, fellow Scion, find you, Swa-set Vauban, attractive." She paused for half a heartbeat. "And I am NOT messing with you right now."
Zoissette's face shifted from one of a generally pleasant, but ultimately neutral, politeness, and degraded into a sort of baffled confusement.
"Why?"
Klynt threw up her hands "Are you serious right now?" she sputtered. "Are you - you're joking, right? This is you. This is you, messing with me." She gestured vaguely at the other woman. "Have you seen yourself!?"
"I... uhm, I do have a mirror, yes, Klynt. And I dress myself in the mornings. I know what I look like, thank you."
Zoissette's fingers began fidgeting with her quill, and she looked uncomfortable now, finding other things in the room to direct her gaze to. Klynt stared. "Love of the gods. You're serious."
"Well...uhm, yes. I am serious. And also flattered. I think. Can I go back to work now?"
Klynt pursed her lips. "If I'm not your type," she said slowly, easing into the chair across from Zoissette, "You can just say that, you know? No bad feelings. But." she tilted her head, looking under Zoissette's bangs, at the trepidation and confusion splashing patchy color over her cheeks. "But this ain't that, is it?" Zoissette didn't say anything, but her lips tightened to a thin line as she stared at something past Klynt's elbow. A few previous conversations slotted neatly into place. "You don't get why anyone would be interested in you."
Zoissette frowned, and shook her head. "I do not. I - well. I do not know if... you are my 'type' or not," she said quietly. "We do not have many Roegadyn up in Ishgard. And even if we did, I try not to think about it," she looked Klynt in the eye, her expression a little bit hard. "I do not have your large heart or gregarious nature. I do not know how you do it, sharing a bit of yourself with everyone and asking little in return, but I cannot do that. We are here because there is a job to do. And I am here to do my duty. Distractions will only interfere with that."
She seemed to notice that she had put down her quill at some point, and she picked it up again now, returning her attention to the books before her. "Heavens forfend if someone hesitates to send me in when they must needs do so."
Klynt let her breath out slow. "I hear you," she said, dropping her eyes. "I don't agree, mind you. Bonds only strengthen us. But I'm not gonna push it." She stood, paused, and then leaned forward with one hand on the table. "I'm not the only one," she pointed out. Zoissette froze, staring through the table. "The randy pirate isn't the only one who would bed you, if you ever decide to let yourself have the kinds of things you want and deserve and others want to give you."
Abruptly, Klynt stood straight, giving Zoissette a jaunty salute. "Subject closed!" she chirped. "Let me know if you want to reopen it- or open anything else." She tipped an exaggerated wink she was certain Zoissette didn't register and sauntered off.
Zoissette tapped the end of her quill against the book a few times, and looked up at the retreating back of her friend. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath in, let it out slow, and returned to her work.
After all, she always returned to the work.
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les-toupies-h · 2 years ago
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---> Seule passait la lumiÚre d'août
> Proposition visuelle d'Ă©criture - Photofiction > Photographie de Marguerite Bornhauser
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divinekangaroo · 5 months ago
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falling - pettiot - Peaky Blinders (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
PART ONE - DAY ONE
Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9
PART TWO - MONTH ONE (Or Maybe Month Two, Or Three)
Ch 10 | Ch 11 | ?
A Modern AU take on Tommy's immediate return from military service, and the period between his demobilisation and the start of S1.
(Tags shall be progressively updated)
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Tommy Shelby/Lizzie Stark, Tommy Shelby/Freddie Thorne, Arthur Shelby, Polly Grey, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, John Shelby's Children, Zhang, S1E1 Red Dust Girl | Alternative Universe, Modern AU (ish), No iPhones (yet), Awkwardness, Age Difference, Disassociation, Miscommunication, Banter, Fast Food Vendor of your Choice, Pre-Season, Past Trauma, Flirting, Have I Met You Before, Heckling, Cars, Drug Use, Past Childhood Trauma, Mrs Shelby Lives, Gender Role Dynamics, Small Neighbourhoods, Greta Jurossi Haunting the Narrative, Brotherly Dynamics, Sibling Dynamics, Class Issues, Attraction, Casual Sex, Car Sex, Military Transition Program, Willful Medical Noncompliance, Melodrama, Illegal Bookmaking, 90s Fashion, 2000s Fashion, Slow Reveal, Slow Burn, Coming Home, Dysfunctional Family, Lasting Legacy of Catholicism, Bad SMS Etiquette, Gang Activity, Domesticity, Booty Call, Guilt, Shame, So Much Marijuana, Arms Dealing, Crimes & Criminals, Ill Informed Economic Theorising, Wanking, Ethnicity, Stereotyping
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pigspeetsandhooflikefeets · 2 years ago
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I already brushed on it in my Wemma suggesting post, but I really like as a whole, Emma and Wayne are essentially the heart and soul leaders of The Frogs of Death, with Emma relying on pathos and Wayne relying on logos (surprisingly)
It’s surprisingly most highlighted in the two challenges with a Nichelle focus, episodes 1 and 3. Nichelle is essentially carried metaphorically (and literally in ep1) somehow being a fascinating character springboard for the others.
For Wayne, despite the obvious ease Wayne would have doing a blindfolded challenge with Raj, they go with someone else, because he probably just wanted everyone to get a fair turn and not just hang out with his best friend the entire show (and the belief she’s an action star, but it is all off-screen). When she protests running, Wayne decides to risk his health because of faith in himself, her safety, and the group. Despite doing probably the least wrong, he still proceeds to blame himself after the challenge.
Emma falls into the emotional side of the team, forcing a sense of positivity around the group to help with Nichelle’s self-doubt. She gets aggressive when Bowie and MK’s negativity affects Nichelle, letting her spiral further. While the rest of the team are shocked by the reveal, Emma is never shown to care and simply want her in a mentally stable state (mostly to win the challenge, yes), asking to talk to her about her emotional crisis later, while the others proceed to just hound her further (or have no idea what’s happening). While it’s based off the team’s agenda, Emma focuses on Nichelle’s inner strength and desire to prove herself. You cannot convince me Emma voted for Nichelle. She 100% voted for MK, considering how mad she looks at her during the ceremony. She was also the only one to react that Julia was drowning and went back to help her, despite her being annoying. Later in ep4 despite having beef with MK, she still praises her and believes her somewhat unbelivable story, looking hurt when MK snaps at her regardless (as if Emma couldn’t just mention it again later...?)
Notably in ep2, while the two contestants have very different styles of leadership, they mesh remarkably well. When Emma lets her emotions lead her style of competing, Wayne swoops in not to tell her to go with his original plan, but modifies his plan to apply a logos approach, justifying her behaviour and sharing the role of captain, metaphorically. Neither view their sense of leadership as “my way or the highway”, but rather channeling certain negative feelings into proper behaviour. Like, ya know, an actual leader.
tl;dr Wayne and Emma really said team dad and team mom
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hannie-dul-set · 1 year ago
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8k words in the riize fic and 0 words in my debate speech this is my life now isn't it.
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