#and i could be the vegetable goblin

[ramblebrambleamble]

I wish I could freeze time for vegetables specifically.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

A devil in disguise

Yandere fantasy ocs x gn reader

They're not really yandere in this fic, I'm saving that for later

Tw: none that I can think of, not proofread 🌺

⭐you were just an ordinary villager. Living in a cottage you Inherited, making a living by owning a bakery in the nearby village. You didn't think there was anything appealing about you. Nothing making you stand out. Well, the villagers thought differently. It was mainly filled with different mythical races, making you the only human.

⭐one day you were setting up shop like always, a suitor or two trying to get your attention when suddenly screams could be heard from outside. Rushing to see what was the commotion, a young.. girl? Man? Was fighting off a horde of wild goblins. Littering the ground with their little bodies. They fought valiantly, slashing one after the other.

⭐in the end they came out victorious, but heavily injured. You herded the other villagers away, a bar maiden helping you pick up the adventurer and taking them to your little bakery. She set them down and quickly left as you looked for your first aid, carefully cleaning up the blood and grime off their face.

⭐you did end up requiring to remove their clothing to better patch them up, sincerely hoping they wouldn't feel uncomfortable once they woke up. You stayed overnight in the bakery since your cottage was pretty far and you didn't want to leave the newcomer alone. The sound of fabric rustling woke you up.

⭐ lifting your gaze upwards, you were met with big green eyes staring into your own, faces inches apart. Their blonde hair was messy and a strand draped across their face. They reached a hand out, and booped your nose before pulling away. Intently observing the room.

"uhm.. thank you for fighting off those feral goblins. What is your name, sir or ma'am..?"

"Gideon. What is your name, lovely?"

"y/n. It's a pleasure to meet you"

⭐Gideon thanked you repeatedly and offered to help you out for a bit. You agreed, and with the time they spent with you,you learned they were a he. They didn't mind any pronouns, just that they were born amab.

"you see. I was on my way here to wait for my friends when I noticed those nasty green bastards hiding in the bushes. I couldn't just let those vermin attack such a lovely village."

"you're very brave Gideon.. I wish I knew how to swing a sword"

"I can teach you, if you'd like my dear"

⭐ Gideon shows you the basics of wielding a sword, he offered to show you how to hunt game aswell. The first hunt came out.. interesting. He'll have to make you exercise with him daily from now on.

⭐2 weeks have passed now, Gideon was helping you bring groceries into your cottage when you heard a loud yelling coming from not too far away

"GIDEON!? IS THAT YOU?"

⭐ turning around, you spot a girl who seems to be your age standing a few feet away. She seemed tired yet so elated. Gideon set down the basket carrying the vegetables and quickly rushed over to her

"darling! Oh there you are! Where are the others? Are you alright? You're not hurt are you?"

⭐the girl waved off his worrying, about to say something when suddenly she turned her attention to you

"Wow.. well hello there gorgeous~"

⭐the girl walked up to you, wiggling her eyebrows and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You could only stare at her and laugh in mild amusement. After Gideon thoroughly disciplined her on why she shouldn't flirt with people she doesn't know, you learned that their entire party were on their way to recollect him.

⭐so now you had 2 roommates. It was pretty fun, they helped with chores and kept you company. Darling seemed to really like your bakery, helping every chance she could. They enjoyed being with you, you were so much fun! They knew they'd have to leave as soon as the others came, so One night, the two waited for you to go to sleep. Talking outside near a pond, a bit far away from the cottage

"I don't know Gideon.. they're not exactly built for adventuring with us.."

"yes.. but you weren't built for this life either. We trained you. And we can do the same for our little y/n. They already knows the basics, We'll just need to convince them before the others arrive"

⭐and that's what they did. For the next three days, they kept pestering you to join their party. So don't worry, they'll train you. Aren't you tired of this boring life? Don't you wanna explore? Just find someone to run your bakery for you until you come back!

⭐and that's how you ended up here. Catching a ride on ogmund, the party's barbarian tank. You were happily chatting away, braiding his hair while you were at it. He told you all about his tribe, orc traditions, his past adventures. You nodded along, adding input every now and then

⭐darling was walking alongside you both, chewing on something, you don't know what, and holding ogmund's hand. The orc seemed use to the girls touchy nature. Darling was the party's druid. Specializing in healing and natural magic. Her little ears would twitch, with the occasional flick of her tail. Panther hybrids were so cute.

⭐Gideon was the party's paladin, you remembered they told you about their reasoning for choosing this life. As a boy his family was slaughtered, leaving only him and his younger sibling rougé Alive. Their mothers were brothel workers while their father was the owner. Don't ask them about their family.

⭐rougé was the party's bard. They were a half elf, like their brother and very flirty and touchy with whoever they deemed as a fun pick. Darling seemed to be their main target since she gets easily flustered. You had the sneaking suspicion they often slept together with how their physical affections towards her seemed too intimate. The only reason they didn't come after you so often was because they didn't ogmund to snap their spine in half

⭐mikal was the party's sorcerer. A stubborn little prick, proud and haughty. Just give him a good thwack on the head and he'll shut up. Once, you you were playing with his hair and he stood rigid the entire time. Simply nodding when you'd compliment his beautiful silver locks. It contrasted well with his near black skin. Who knew dark elves were so sexy? (Fucking everyone)

⭐venus was the party's cleric, and boy, darling had massive beef with him. For what reason? You don't know, they just really fucking hated eachother. Venus, out of everyone, was the most reserved. It'll take you a whole to tear down his walls but you'll get there eventually.

⭐from what the party told you, you were on your way to save a couple friends. You were practically buzzing with excitement, your first real adventure! Maybe you'd find a fighting class that suits you best while you're at it.

⭐ blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes staring at you from stop the trees..

[feyascorner]

3 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You hate him, you think. You want to hate him, at the very least.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke."

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard, large chunks of italicized texts are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. redemption arc is coming i swear :) this is a whopping 4.7k i got kinda carried away but oh well,, Thank you so much for your comments on these they make my day and i appreciate each one<3

Dance upon the stars tonight

Smile and pain will fade away

“And what might our dear bard be working so passionately on?”

You look up from your notebook, ceasing the messy scribbling of lyrics into its tattered pages. Astarion perches himself beside you, the flames of the campfire flickering in the reflection of his eyes as you stop humming and raise a cautious brow. A vampire spawn. You’d never seen one in person–-only had you heard of them in your childhood tales of the spawn that would sweep away naughty children if they didn’t finish their vegetables. Up close, you can almost see his fangs protruding from the grin he's constantly wearing.

You wonder if it’s a genuine one.

“That bard at the grove today,” you recall. “Alfira? I’m trying to finish the lyrics and write them out for her.”

“Is that so? Surely you’re receiving some sort of payment for these gracious services?”

You train your eyes back onto the pages, shaking your head. “I’m doing this for fun. Her song is beautiful. It just needs—” you squint. “--adjustment.”

He laughs, and you can see the fangs clearly now. They’re sharper than you expected them to be. “I believe that’s a drastic understatement, my dear. My heart felt for those poor squirrels. I’m quite willing to bet that they have an aversion to bards now.”

“And you’re suddenly a musician yourself?”

“It doesn’t take a musician to recognize poor singing, darling Tav,” he returns. “And considering I’ve spent the past few days listening to your music, I’m sure you’ll understand why I considered it such an abomination.”

You narrow your eyes. “I thought you didn’t like me–or my music.”

“You? I'm still deciding,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes. “But I must say that I’m growing rather fond of that lyre of yours. Have you had it for long?”

You give him a sidelong glance before answering slowly. “I’ve had it for ages. Practically when I just started.”

“Explains itself then, I suppose.”

“And you?” you watch as he leans back on his palms. “Do you have any other talents to offer to our companions, or is it just your teeth?”

“Now, don’t be so cruel, dear,” he smiles wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re rather fond of them as well. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring all the time.”

“I’m on guard,” you clarify.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You’re not sure if you can sleep with one eye open, much less both of them closed. You’re not sure if you trust him at all, either, but as he stares up at the starry sky, simply listening to the crackling of the campfire, you decide you’d rather save yourself the energy for what awaits tomorrow.

“Why did you do that earlier?” you find yourself asking, and he replies by glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Do what?”

“Save Wyll from that goblin arrow,” you mumble. “I thought you didn't care about any of us.”

“And what gives you that impression?”

You deadpan, staring at him with lidded eyes and he laughs out loud. It sounds more genuine than anything else he’s offered so far. It's nice.

“It’s a simple transaction, dear. One where I receive protection in turn for the occasional aid I can give with my own blade.”

You squint at him, but you see no signs of deception. So instead, you simply nod and resume scribbling into your notebook, softly humming to yourself alongside the lyrics. And when you halt, stuck on a particular lyric that you can’t seem to remember, you hear him shift, standing himself back up to retreat to his tent.

“Something about faith and care comes next if my memory serves,” is all he says before striding away. While you watch him in confusion, you click your tongue and try to focus again. And when you look down at your page, you remember the rest of the words.

Somehow, you feel the corners of your lips lift.

“As much as I’d love for this to be a charming, long-awaited reunion, one of the parties imposes a danger to the other.”

You wince at the sarcasm dripping from Gale’s voice. Duke Ravengard’s expression remains solemn, unmoving like a stone, while your companion pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We can’t harbor a vampire spawn in our home. We’re supposed to be finding them, not keeping them!”

You hate the irony of the statement because the camp you’d spent so many months in with an uninvited guest in your head, had also been your home. One where you spent your nights in a vampire spawn’s tent. It’s not so different, you keep telling yourself. But you’re painfully aware that the Duke only knows a sugar-coated version of the falling out between you and said vampire. He doesn’t know how his son had to tear Astarion away from you and how your voice had been sore for weeks afterward.

“As much as I have my own opinions with allying with a vampire spawn,” the Duke stares at Astarion warningly. “Wyll did say this spawn saved his life while your party ventured together. For that, I'm willing to see reason if he’s cooperative, rather than restrain him with the Fists.”

You never thought much of it until now. With how many life threatening experiences you and your companions had come across, it felt natural to save one another. At first, it had been out of necessity—fear that one person would turn into an illithid. Yet, with time, you'd all grown fond of each other, one way or another.

You think back to when Astarion had saved Wyll and wonder if that part of him is still in there. Maybe it was never there at all. Maybe it had been another one of his manipulation tactics that you're so prone to falling for.

Gods, you're hopeless.

The wizard standing beside you sighs irritably. “But that was before he tried to squeeze the life out of-”

“How long do we need to keep him?”

Gale balks at your words. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“Just until we’re able to locate the rest of the spawns spread throughout the city, which you kindly decided not to mention in our last conversation.”

You shoot Gale a glare, silently questioning if he’d been the one to confess the existence of the spawns underground, but he’s too busy scanning over Astarion, who’s mindlessly fidgeting with his knife. The said spawn seems to feel your gaze, because he glances at you, then grins.

The bastard is smiling.

“The man you killed this morning is a spawn himself, yes?” the Duke clarifies. “There have been numerous reports the past few days about strange figures with fangs throughout the city—I’d known they’d existed, but to the numbers that are being reported…”

“You couldn’t have possibly believed myself to be the only spawn around?” Astarion laughs bitterly. “I do not wish to go hungry, Duke, but I don’t need nearly as many bodies that’s been showing up—assuming that I did drink from anyone, of course.”

Ravengard ignores him, speaking as if he’s not there. “I could still have him detained if that is what you wish. We can continue as we have and search for the spawn without his help.”

You know it’s a fruitless effort if last night has told you anything.

“You don’t even have evidence that I drank from a single person in this entire bloody city!” Astarion spits back, rolling his neck in exasperation.

“No,” you purse your lips, finally looking up. “I’ll be responsible for him.”

Gale clears his throat alarmingly. “Now, dear leader, let’s have a private conversation before we make any hasty decisions, yes? Surely, we don’t have to decide right this moment.”

And while you open your mouth to respond that no, you won’t have Astarion rot away in some gross cell, the Duke nods. “Very well.”

Gale pushes you to the corner of the room, with his face clearly paling in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking. You want someone who nearly strangled you to death sleeping in the room next to yours?”

“Ravengard wants us to find out where the other spawn are hiding, and the only lead we have is sitting right there,” you defend yourself. “Throwing Astarion into a dirty cell won’t do anything to convince him to help us.”

“The Duke doesn’t know what he did to you!”

“He doesn’t need to. Astarion’s made it very clear he’s not going to spill any information if the Duke is the one asking, and we need a lead. I nearly died last night, Gale. I want to avoid that if I can.”

His eyes soften just a bit, but it’s enough. With a loud sigh, he scrunches his nose. “And you’re sure you’re not doing this for more personal reasons?”

At this, you pause. Your eyes waver, and the look Gale gives you is almost soul-crushing if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you’ve already hit rock bottom. You know this is not a good idea. You know that being so close to him again after so many months is not a good idea, especially when you’ve just finally begun your journey to forget him.

You curse the gods above for your luck.

The silence prompts Gale to speak. “I’ll tell the Duke we can’t involve ourselves in this.”

“Gale,” your voice almost cracks. “Please.”

He doesn’t want to agree, you can tell. Any sane person wouldn’t invite a bloodthirsty vampire spawn who’s willing to use his own hands to kill his so-called lover into their home. You want to think that you’re void of bias, but you know it’s a pathetic attempt to reassure yourself. Still, the expression on your face must be quite the sight because Gale takes one look, glances at Astarion, then slumps his shoulders. You’ve won.

You hadn’t even realized the door had been swung open, where your other companions had been standing, taking one look at Astarion then to you. While Gale wallows in his own defeat, you turn to the others, eyes glimmering with a kind of hope that they haven’t seen in months.

“Your judgment’s gotten us this far,” Shadowheart sighs. “We’d be fools not to trust it now.”

Lae’zel clicks her tongue. “My blade is ready to slit his throat if need be. Just command me, and I shall.”

“We aren’t going to try to kill him," you retort.

“It’s only right to return the favor."

Dinner is awkward. You’re finally getting to try Gale’s stew, but it’s hard to focus on the taste when all you can feel is the searing stare of the person sitting across from you. He only has a goblet of crimson liquid in the same shade as his eyes in front of him, and it remains untouched as he takes in the rest of the house.

“So,” Gale offers. “What have you been up to?”

It’s not much, but it’s better than sitting in complete silence.

“Wandering the streets at night, mostly. Oh, and murdering half the city, apparently,” Astarion lets out his usual high-pitched laugh at the end, and your fingers tighten around your spoon. Shadowheart glares at him through her lashes, and you think she may lunge at him any second. You want to think you wouldn't stop her.

You feel for her, really. Being the group’s cleric comes with its advantages but also with the unspoken burden of watching your companions in pain. She’d been the one to ensure Astarion hadn’t left long-lasting damage to your throat. She’d been the one to soothe your headaches and cast a sleeping spell on you in hopes it’ll allow you to rest longer than just a few hours. She’d also seen you nearly bleed out multiple times, one of which occurred mere hours ago.

The sudden scrape of Lae’zel’s chair being pushed back catches your attention. She stands, lifting her bowl with her. “The air here is suffocating. Sort out your differences before I sort them out for you.”

The rest of you collectively nod. She doesn’t say anything else before leaving the room.

“The room at the end of the hallway upstairs is yours,” Shadowheart says finally. “Don’t bother me if you need anything else.”

She stands up as well, leaving her bowl in the sink before pacing up the stairs to her own quarters.

Somehow, the atmosphere is even worse now. You don’t dare lift your eyes from your stew, and you honestly hope it explodes before you have to sit here and drink all of it in this silence. Gale, thankfully, does not leave. Instead, he sets down his utensil.

“I suggest we have a set of rules in place–for the sake of everyone occupying this home,” he clears his throat. You shoot him a questioning look, which he dusts off.

“Fine,” Astarion leans back in his chair, now swirling the goblet of blood in his hand. “What do you have in mind?”

“No drinking. From anyone here.”

You blink a few times, then hear Astarion hum in acknowledgment. “Shame. Though your blood was vile anyway.”

“And don’t cause any trouble. One of us will go with you when you need to drink, so you can hunt for whatever animal you prefer these days. Otherwise, unless we say so, you’ll remain here.”

“Why, this sounds almost identical to a prison. Looking for a job as a warden, Gale? A midlife crisis, perhaps. Does wizard life not suit you anymore?”

“It suits me plenty, thanks,” Gale snorts. “We’ll be out during the day to rebuild the city, so you’ll have to entertain yourself in your own room. Don’t touch anything—especially my stuff.”

Astarion grins. “That almost sounds like an invitation.”

The wizard then turns to you. “And you? Do you have any other rules you’d like to add?”

You finally lift your head from the stew, looking back and forth between the two before shaking your head while pushing your chair back. For someone who’d imagined aimlessly for months about seeing your former lover again, you can’t seem to look him in the eye for fear of what you might feel. “I’m going out.”

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

Wordlessly, you pace toward the door, refusing to look back to suppress the urge to sprint back into his arms. You don’t know what you were thinking just a few hours ago, but this was not going to end well. If you couldn’t manage a simple dinner sitting across from him, what could you manage?

You’re in such a rush that you forget to bring anything besides your wallet.

By the time you’re on your way back to the house hours later, you have a backpack shoved full of fabrics with nails and a hammer to go along with it. As you pass by the taverns, you hear music playing from inside, alongside a few cheers and what you can only assume to be a crash of chairs as people applaud. 

You can’t help but peer through the window as you walk past, where a bard merrily plays on his drum, lightening the mood of the entire tavern—even the bartender smiles along as he plays tunes you’ve heard a million times before. And while your hands itch for a lyre—to feel the string snap against your fingertips—you know no good will come of it. You’ll only sit before the instrument, your hands unable to find the emotions to exert in the form of notes. 

As you stare at the bard, you remind yourself you’ve long given up on that kind of life.

So instead, you continue your way to the Highberry’s home. When you knock on the door, a very weary Cora Highberry greets you with bags under her eyes, but a calm smile still stretching on her lips nonetheless. She steps out of the way, inviting you in, and you do so.

“You didn’t have to, dear,” she says as she takes a bag of the city’s finest fruits from your hands. “The neighbors have been oh so gracious to us. They’re helping the children so much, I couldn’t possibly ask for more.”

“I was just passing by, that’s all,” you offer. “I wanted to check on you since I left a bit abruptly last time.”

“Oh, dear, you know how to make a woman feel special. It’s been terrible, really. I haven’t gone so long with my husband in ages…” she laughs, wiping at her swollen eyes. “But we were an old couple anyways…I had some time to prepare my emotions. I just didn’t think he’d go like that.”

You nod as she hands you a mug of hot tea. “But never mind that. I’ve spent the past two weeks talking about nothing but myself, so I’m quite tired. What about you, dear?”

“Me?”

“You look like death themselves,” she frowns. “I’ve lived for quite long…I recognize that heartbroken face anywhere. Has something happened?”

The way she’s staring at you—it’s different than pity. You can’t quite identify it, but she smiles again. It’s not the kind of smile most people give you—not one of anticpation, not one of gratefulness, but just a regular, old smile. And it makes your shoulders untense just the slightest before they tense again. You take a swig of the tea, nearly burning your throat in the process as you set the mug down, splitting a pathetic smile. “No, I’m okay. Just--tired.”

Very, very tired. Not physically, no, but tired of the indecisiveness that is your heart.

Her face falls softly. “How troubling it must be to have the weight of the city on your shoulders."

Before you can answer, there’s a loud thud upstairs. She notices your alarm and shakes her head. “Ah, must be Berry. She’s one of the younger children, and she’s been taking my husband’s death quite hard. Please excuse me, dear. I need to go put her back to sleep.”

And with that, you’re left alone on the first floor of the building again. You contemplate staying to say your farewells but the cries from upstairs convince you otherwise. Taking one last swig from the mug, you gather your things and leave.

When you get back home, it’s well into the night, an hour or two after midnight, you’d think. None of the lights are on, so the first thing you do is light a candle when you step through the door, dropping your backpack onto the dining room table. Dunking all your materials out, you take the hammer and start your work.

There’s something soothing about the darkness outside, with the way nothing seems to exist besides you and your own thoughts in a city that overflows with a sense of community. You try not to think about the man most likely reading in his room just a floor above you and focus on hanging the fabrics in front of all of the windows. The cloths are mismatched in color, and your hammer work is nothing more than sufficient, but it’ll do for now. At least until you can get actual curtains installed.

You worry that some of the fabrics aren’t thick enough to absorb all the sunlight, so you layer another fabric on top of it until you’re sure that even your candlelight cannot be seen from outside. Why you’re going so far for him, you do not know. You prefer to assure yourself that you need him to help stop the spawn from devouring the entire city, but even in your own thoughts, it sounds like a lie.

You wonder if he cares nearly as much as you do. He probably doesn’t.

You hate him, you think for the millionth time today. You want to, at the very least.

You flinch when a splinter in the wooden wall splits your skin open, forming a drop of blood on your index finger. Curse the heavens above, nothing was going right today. You quickly reach for a towel but nearly jump when you hear his voice from the stairs. 

“You really need to stop with that habit of yours.”

You spin around, and he’s already at the foot of the stairs, reaching to grab a towel from the kitchen. But you’re faster, snatching it away and pressing it over your hand while he raises both his own, imitating a surrender of getting any closer. You can’t look at him in the eye—you don’t want to either. “What habit?”

“You’re speaking to me now?” he raises a brow, and you turn away again after shooting him a glare. “I’d thought you’d avoid me forever—scurrying off like a squirrel whenever I step into the room.”

You should avoid him forever. But the words don’t reach your tongue, and you choose to ignore him.

He doesn’t budge. “I meant bleeding around me.”

“What?”

“Every time I see you, you always seem to be bleeding.”

You frown at him. “Maybe you just prefer being around me when I’m bleeding.”

“You might be right." You think maybe he’s done with this painfully awkward conversation until you see him staring at the windows covered with random pieces of fabric, and suddenly, you feel embarrassment creep up your skin. You realize how bizarre your actions must appear in someone else’s eyes, staying up to the break of dawn so that he’ll be able to traverse someplace outside the confines of his own room…

It might make him think you care, and the worst part is that a part of you does.

“I hope you don’t expect me to thank you, darling.”

The nickname feels like a stab to your heart, haunting, even, but you do your best to brush it off.

“For what?” you manage to force out through clenched teeth.

“The cell they would’ve thrown me into is nothing different from trapping me in that room, I’m afraid,” he laughs bitterly, and you want to crawl into a hole from how cold his voice sounds. Distant. Like how he’d sounded the day you found him next to his nautiloid pod. “But I suppose I should be grateful for having a bed instead of having to spend my days rotting away on the dirty floor?”

You bite your bottom lip, brows furrowing. “I don't expect anything from you.”

But you do. Not quite an expectation, but a lingering wish that maybe you can heal. It's pathetic, even in your own eyes and surely everyone else's, but you can't be bothered to care.

It pisses you off a bit. How he seems perfectly unfazed while you continue to drown in your own feelings.

“Are you just here to taunt me, or is there a reason for this conversation?” you snap. This is not quite how you wanted your reunion to go.

He raises a brow. “Taunt you? I'm only answering questions you're afraid to ask.”

“I don't need to know anything about you,” you grit through your teeth. “You left my mind the second you abandoned us.”

What a poor, wishful lie.

“Ha!” It doesn't really sound like a laugh—more a scoff of disbelief. It's like he knows what you're thinking, and for a split second, it feels like there's a tadpole in your head again. “Of course you think I'm the villain of your precious heroic tale! Honestly darling, the irony just writes itself.”

You fight the urge to scowl, but you're not sure if you're successful. You find yourself gripping onto the towel harder, teeth clenched as your chest tightens just hearing his words. You truly hate that he seems to care less than you—it’s like he's not even taking you seriously.

And that damned nickname.

It feels like talking to the Astarion you first met—one who’s only intentions were to use you—but this time, you don't think it’s a mask. He doesn't want anything more from you. Only your own suffering from taking the power that would have made him untouchable.

“So tell me, dear, do you wish for me to grovel at your feet?”

Your eyes widen, and the term of endearment that once made your cheeks flush only makes you feel sick. “What?”

“Do you expect me to drop to my knees, begging for your forgiveness?” he says again, eerily composed while you struggle to come up with words. “Perhaps I would have if we were still staying in that camp. Put on a show, even."

You frown, setting your hammer down on the counter. “I’ve never made you grovel. I’ve never made you do anything.”

“Maybe not directly, no, you’re too kind of a soul to do so,” there’s venom lacing the words that feel nothing short of a lie. Somehow, he’s still smiling. “Instead, you made me beg for your help. You accepted—made it feel like I had a choice. Then tore it away just the same, in the cruelest way possible. Impressive, really. I didn't expect such dramatic sins from you.”

The way he looks at you, words dripping with sarcasm, makes you want to melt into the floor, ceasing to exist as a whole. But alas, you continue standing like a deer in headlights, unsure of how to respond. You look down to see the towel stained with your blood and inhale deeply, watching the dark sky lighten with daybreak through the window. “The sun’s rising.”

His smile drops, something foreign flickering in his eyes. He suddenly steps toward you, and as soon as he gets within two feet, you find yourself stepping backward, your fingers tightening around the hammer. You have no idea if you'd even be able to use it, but it's better than digging your nails into your palms.

It doesn't go unnoticed.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

You don't want to think he'd truly kill you. Not really, but your mind flashes back to the look in his eyes when he had his hands wrapped around your lifeline, and you grip the hammer tighter, heartbeat pounding impossibly fast.

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke,” you mutter.

His lip twitches, and he steps back bitterly. You feel like you can breathe again.“Ah, yes, that.”

You swear your stomach drops to your feet at the mere suggestion he’d forgotten what haunts your nightmares every night, forcing you to lurch from your rest in a cold sweat, hands shaking, and having nobody to turn to for comfort. He couldn't be that cruel…could he? You want to scream at him, punch him, kick him, tell him he’s not being fair. You want to defend yourself, say that all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be safe, but even that feels like too much when he’s giving you so little.

“Very well, I’ll indulge you,” he grins again. You realize your time is running out, the sun beginning to peer out from the horizon. “Why did you assume responsibility for me? I can’t imagine why you’d want such a terrible foe in your life living right next door of your own sanctuary.”

For the city, you tell yourself. For Cora's husband and the poor victims drained off their life, all alone in the darkest corners of Baldur's Gate. “...I didn’t do it for you.”

He searches your face for something, his eyes narrowing. He's waiting for you to continue, but there's no more fuel in the tank, and now you just want to sleep for a very long time. You assume he comes up empty when the corners of his lips fall, and he turns to climb up the stairs. Sunlight hits your back as your eyes trail him in his steps, and it does nothing to warm how cold it feels in the room.

“That much I’m aware,” he stops his steps for a brief moment. You barely catch it, but it's there. “Terribly aware.”

And when he finally leaves, you bury your face into your hands.

"I'm nervous."

"What for?"

"What if the ascension goes wrong? Are you sure we should really be doing this, Astarion?"

He brushes your hair out of your face, cupping both your cheeks in his hands. "We'll be okay, my love. I will still be here, and so will you. I'll just finally have enough power to protect what I care about."

He sees the hesitance in your eyes and leans his forehead against yours. You melt into his touch, placing your hands atop his.

"So please, stand beside me for this," he pleads.

And despite the way your intuition screams at you otherwise, despite the way your very being begs you to pull away, you nod, sealing your fate.

"I'll be right here."

Tags:@ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @ukeia-uchiha @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added!

[justporo]

A Night of Staying In

After all the doom and gloom in other writing I really needed some cutesy fluff to feel myself again - and also to give Astarion and Tav a break.

Summary: So have Tav and Astarion just enjoying a cozy night in - also Astarion gets a carrot hurled at his face.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav Warnings: Mention of sex, a carrot gets thrown and then murdered Wordcount: 2,2k

Delicious smells of slowly cooking meats and vegetables, spices and a forgotten mint tea were wafting through the kitchen of your cozy little townhouse.

You were bustling around the well-equipped kitchen. The apron you were wearing was full of stains and its pockets full of cooking utensils – even a half-full spoon absent-mindedly tugged away in one of them. It was slowly leaking through the linen with something on it that looked like blood – but was simply a tomatoey sauce. Your hair was messily put up in a bun, but several strands of hair had fallen out of it and you looked only so far from a mental breakdown.

At the kitchen table Astarion was sitting with a lantern, bowing over an embroidery project. He had the very bright lantern you’d gifted him specifically for this purpose directly next to him, but he was still squinting at his work and holding it so close his nose was almost touching the fabric. He looked a lot less demented than you but still very absent-minded.

Fabrics and threads were strewn all about the wooden table. Different needles were glinting everywhere on it too. One could only hope that those would be remembered at some point – preferably before someone stuck them in their fingers.

Next to him were also laying some loose papers, a feather and an ink pot with lots of writing that was then crossed out again and also some small little doodles on the corners – one for whatever reason happened to be a goose with a knife in its beak.

You had several pots on the iron stove and something about to go in the oven as well. Critically you were moving around between all of these things, clattering with copper pot lids, jars of ingredients and spoons to try the food (always in the same pattern: grabbing a new spoon, trying something, putting the spoon in the dish bowl full of dirty water – then having to grab a new spoon). You had some potatoes boiling and in another pot you had been cooking a mixture of vegetables and beef for quite some time. You wanted to recreate a recipe of cottage pie that you had once tried many years ago in a tavern and had kept reappearing in your dreams. And now you finally had the kitchen and the tools to try and cook it yourself!

But it seemed impossible to get it right, this already being your fourth attempt this week. The vampire had already been moaning that you had basically force-fed him the meal because you had no way of eating that much pie on your own. It was not, that the finished pies hadn’t tasted well, but they just weren’t like you remembered. But you started to think that it might be your memory that was tricking you and not your cooking skills.

You went to try the pie filling again after adding some more spices and dash more red wine (directly from your goblet because you didn’t seem to remember where you put the bottle).

As soon as the spoonful hit your tongue you knew you had done it – finally.

You shrieked and immediately heard another shriek behind you in reply. You turned around to Astarion with glee and saw how the vampire was staring at you angrily and shaking his hand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out your sudden excitement had caused him to stab himself with his needle.

“Darling, can you maybe not scream like a dying goblin, I was concentrating!”, he hissed at you. Your joy evaporated at his flare of anger – so you turned around again, grabbed a left over half of carrot and threw it at Astarion – and maybe a bit more forceful than would have been necessary.

But he was still a rogue and dodged the vegetable easily. It flew against one of the cabinets and then to the ground. There it stayed until Scratch came into the kitchen, drawn there by the sudden noises. The dog sniffed at the piece of vegetable, then grabbed it and went off again.

“Oh really, are we at the ‘I throw stuff at my lover’ point of our relationship now, love?”, Astarion replied to your responsive outburst of anger with a raised eyebrow. “Am I going to have to sleep on the sofa next?”, he continued sassily.

Your hand itched to grab more produce – there were some potatoes still laying around and they made for excellent improvised throwing weapons. But you saw the smirk that played around the vampire’s lips. So you settled for a verbal rebuttal.

“Don’t be such a prick and you can keep sleeping inside”, you said and flipped him off. Then you turned around again to your cooking and grabbed – yet another – spoon and scooped up some of the filling. The vampire mumbled something under his breath about he wouldn’t have to be a prick if you didn’t make him prick himself.

“Oh, that would be so gracious of you, my dear lady, if I was still allowed in your shining presence”, Astarion then said loudly as you were busy with the pots. The tone still very sassy but you heard the playfulness in it now and knew he was now only teasing.

You went over to him, with one hand under the spoon full of hot goodness that immediately started dripping and burning your hand. You winced but kept going.

“Here, try this – I think I got it now”, you said as you stood in front of Astarion who had put down his needlework for the time being. He threw you a pained look: “Love, if you keep feeding me this I think I might actually start to get a pot belly.”

You snorted at him and eyed what you could see of his upper body. “Pretty sure, you will never have to worry about this kind of thing. Now. Try. It”, you answered and insistingly came closer with the spoon.

Astarion sighed, gave you another suffering look and then let himself be fed. His doubtful expression quickly changed to what you interpreted as pleasantly surprised.

“Alright, I take everything back, that was well worth the scream of enlightenment, my sweet. That tastes wonderful”, the vampire said and grinned at you.

“See, wasn’t so hard, was it”, you said and gave him a quick peck on the lips as you could see his face changing to annoyance once more at your petty remark.

You threw the spoon in the dish bowl and rubbed your hands on your apron and started to get everything ready for the final step of the recipe. Meanwhile you said to Astarion: “So, darling, could you write down the following: one and a half cups of red wine and three instead of two sprigs of thyme and just loads of black pepper.”

“Of course, my darling chef”, Astarion replied cheerfully and grabbed the feather and papers laying next to him to write it down. “Any other changes?”

“No, this will be it”, you responded and happily clapped your hands before you put your filling in a cast iron pan, mashed and seasoned the potatoes and then put them down as the topping of your pie. The final touch was some hearty cheese sprinkled on top. Then you put it all in the oven.

In the meantime, you heard the feather scratching over the paper.

“What are you doing, Astarion?”, you asked as you took off the oven mitts from pushing the pan in to cook.

“Just putting the recipe in clean writing for you, my heart”, the vampire replied as he kept looking through older versions and notes on the papers. Brows furrowed as he was concentrating on it.

“That’s sweet, love, thank you”, you said to him but he didn’t reply and probably hadn’t even noticed. Of course – if you said something actually nice you fell on deaf ears.

So you decided to thank him with another gesture. You grabbed another goblet to pour your vampire a cup of wine but as you looked around to find the opened bottle you saw that it had been next to Astarion with an already filled cup all along.

You gave up and sat down across the table with your own cup of wine as Astarion finished up writing. You put one leg up on the bench and hugged it to your chest, head on top of the knee and watched the pale elf.

“Here you go, my sweet”, the vampire exclaimed cheerfully after a few more moments and handed you the finished recipe that was now written cleanly in his neat and beautiful handwriting. ‘Tav’s specialty cottage pie’ stood atop the page and next to it was a little doodle of some steaming hot pie.

You smiled broadly at Astarion: “Thank you, darling.” Then you shortly leaned on the table, almost climbing over it to give him a kiss while carefully trying to avoid the needles.

“Do you sometimes wonder how we ended up like this?”, you softly asked him after you had read through the finished recipe.

“Like what?”

“Well, like this – all domestic. I’m cooking, you’re embroidering, we’re bickering like an old married couple, drinking wine and just enjoying a cozy night in instead of wreaking havoc somewhere out there”, you said and waved vaguely in the direction of the city beyond the walls of your home. Then you took another sip of wine.

“Let’s be honest with ourselves, we’ve been bickering like that from the moment we met”, Astarion answered and looked at you sternly. You shrugged in agreement.

“As for the rest – well, are you enjoying the way we spend our nights like this sometimes? Because if you’re bored-“

“No no, I’m enjoying this an awful lot. It’s just – this is somehow the most unlike turn of events don’t you think? Like, I sometimes can’t believe we actually ended up in the version where we’ll live happily ever after”, you said and cradled your face in your hand not currently holding a cup of wine.

At your words a warm and adoring smile crept onto Astarion’s face.

“Are you though?”, you asked then.

“Hm?”

“Are you enjoying these kinds of nights?”, you asked Astarion again and lifted your head up to look straight at him.

The vampire looked at you, smile still playing around his lips: “Well, my love, after two hundred years full of godsdamned shit I am enjoying this sort of mundanity quite a lot. And I enjoy it even more because I get to spend it with you. I might even enjoy doing the dishes with you later on – unless you don’t splash me like last time.”

You smiled at him too now, broadly – feeling incredibly lucky that you had indeed taken all the right turns that had led you here, to this: sitting at this kitchen table with the love of your life, talking about doing the dishes.

“But if we ever get bored, my sweet, I have quite a lot of ideas on how to spice things up”, Astarion continued afterwards. The smile morphed into a lewd smirk and his red eyes sparkled mischievously: “For example, I could dramatically throw everything on this table to the ground, rip all your clothes off and have my way with you on this table until you forget your own name.”

His voice had suddenly become deep and smooth like dark molten chocolate. You bit your bottom lip as the mental image of his words set in and you just stared into his eyes point blank. Astarion still looked at you, not breaking eye contact, and his teasing smirk only growing.

“Nah”, you made after some more moments, “not tonight. My cottage pie would burn.” Your tone was matter-of-fact and you drank some more of your wine while still looking into the vampire’s eyes.

Then you both broke down laughing. So much so that you had to wipe tears from your eyes by the end and Astarion had his face buried in one of his hands while silent fits of laughter still shook through him.

“Alright”, he said and bit his lip, one of his fangs showing adorably as if he was a cat, “I’ll write it down for another date night then.” You broke out laughing again.

Until you could actually smell your food burning. With an “oh shit” you jumped up and pulled the pan out of the oven – you had saved it just in time.

You got out some plates and forks, and put some generous servings onto them. As you turned around your gaze fell onto the table full of Astarion’s embroidery supplies. Astarion saw your look, then waved it off, dismissing it.

He grabbed one of the filled plates from you and grabbed your then free hand to lead you to the living room. Scratch was there laying on his designated blanket, chewing on his favourite ball. Some telltale orange spots telling the tale of the fallen carrot.

You settled down on your sofa with your food – you swinging your legs over Astarion’s and getting cozy.

And this is where you stayed: eating until you felt like your belly might burst, joking until you were crying again, talking until you got so tired you almost drifted off into dreaming right then and there. And when you had went to bed: holding each other until you woke up in the other’s arms again.

[walkingzombiegirl]

hii can i request a fic with bakugo and reader cooking together?

━ 𝙔𝙪𝙢 𝙔𝙪𝙢 𝙔𝙪𝙘𝙠

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - You can't cook however that's (mostly) okay with your boyfriend whose here to help. And make fun of your awful skills. 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - cursing 𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘀 - ❤️

REBLOGS APPRECIATED

His back faced the living room, head hunched over the stove all while he muttered nonsense you couldn't seem to hear. The room wafted of burnt food and sadness, your nose twitching at the stream of smoke finding it's way out the window above the sink. And all you could do was watch with a pout.

"I didn't mean it..." You mumbled, trying your best to peak around his broad back and see the horrid monster that he was scraping off the pan. "I know." He stated, his tone seemingly unreadable. It made your stomach fall so far you almost tumbled off your chair.

"I'm sorry." He whipped around, holding up the blackened pan which the soon burnt piece of depression fell out of and plopped onto the ceramic floor.

"This is art, what are you talking about?"

You stared at him, blinking in the dead silence of the kitchen for a few beats. The stove vent groaning behind your curious confusion.

"Art?"

"Nobody I know has ever burnt a piece of spam quite like whatever the hell that thing is." He pointed to it like a child would a bug, your face forming into one of petty annoyance. You scoffed. "It isn't that bad."

Both your heads turned down to look at the most unrecognizable piece of ash that sat sadly on the ground.

"Okay... it's that bad. I only walked away for a second!" He raised an accusatory eyebrow, a sassy tone as he spoke, "That fucking phone, you were too busy shitting to make us dinner." "I was not! I was peeing you asshat, give me that pan!"

He moved it away, shaking his head as you got up from your chair.

"Oh no goblin hands, you're not touching this even if you beg." You paused, tilting your head. "Is begging an option?" His crimson eyes bored into yours, his jaw clenching. "Don't tease. I'm hungry." You let out a groan, glancing down at the sad chunk of spam. "Can we at least cook together then?"

He seemed to think about it, giving up with a breath and walking to place the pan in the sink, turning the faucet on.

"Sweep that sad thing up and I might let you stir something." The broom was in your hand within a few seconds, a string of curses falling from your lips as he bit a smile back from crossing his mouth. His head tilted ever so slightly so he could watch you mean mug the poor crusted piece of food.

"Can I do the vegetables? Veggies are easy." He turned to you, giving to the sassiest eyebrow lift he could muster. "What?" "Hand me a knife." You asked, leaning towards them. "In your dreams babe." He pushed the block of sharp utensils before you could snatch one, a glare being shot his way.

"Fine then... the rice?" He nodded. "Realistic." He again held a grin at your angry grumbles all the way to the bag of rice, then listened to your stress grumbles as you picked it up.

"Am I a bad housegirlfriend?" He sputtered in response to you, eyeing your face as you poured the rice into the cooker. "What the fuck does that mean?" "Am I a bad housegirlfriend?" You questioned in a genuine tone, setting the bag down while pressing buttons. "Cause I can't cook."

"Oh. No. Just useless."

You scoffed watching him laugh at his own joke, blocking you from pinching his arm. The wooden spatula he was holding falling into the pan while he all but collapsed with his own ability to find himself hilarious.

"Take that back you shithead!" He wrestled against you, holding your arms against your body. "No take backsies." "No way you just said that."

You both nearly tumbled from losing your footing, food popping on the pan as he huffed and you attempted to pinch him away.

"Am I really useless?" He shook his head, kissing the side of your head while holding you up. "Eh, you're nice to look at." "You are insufferable. I can't believe you save people for a living." "I smolder them to life with my charm." He grinned, holding you from escaping his arms and taking off. "Great lord I think that face would scare me back to death."

He teetered his head back and forth, the smell of smoke entering the air that you both noticed almost immediatley. Heads slowly turning towards the stove that seemed to evilly grin back to you both.

"Kats... I think you burned the food."

"Shit."

[astarion-approves]

Hello! I love your blog! Could you possibly do a drabble with a tav that gets really flustered/panics when flirted with or complimented trying to converse with Astarion?

Even I was swooning

Astarion x Gender Neutral Tav

Summary: They knew that he would just be standing there… handsomely. Flicking through the pages of his book, the contents of which were unknown to Tav but they liked to imagine it was a steamy romance novel. Those flame filled eyes scanning over the pages, uncaring of what anyone else did with their evenings. Until he caught Tav staring that is. (Or Astarion uses cheesy pickup lines to try and woo Tav) Tags: Love Confessions, Flustered Tav, Soft Astarion, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Bickering, Drabble, Tumblr request, Cheesy, cheesy pickup lines, all of which I'm very proud of, gender neutral reader, 1.2k words

Read below or on Ao3

While, after a day of killing goblins and fighting a hag in a swamp, a night at camp sounded like a relief for most; that wasn’t the case for Tav. They busied themselves, building a fire, carefully stacking each piece of wood while keeping their eyes low and forcing themselves not to look up to where Astarion stood. 

They knew that he would just be standing there… handsomely. Flicking through the pages of his book, the contents of which were unknown to Tav but they liked to imagine it was a steamy romance novel. Those flame filled eyes scanning over the pages, uncaring of what anyone else did with their evenings. 

Until he caught Tav staring that is. 

Each night was the same. Tav would stack spare logs nearby, build a fire on their knees, and help Gale to set up any cooking supplies, all while desperately fighting the urge to look up and lock eyes with Astarion. And each night they failed miserably.  

Astarion knew the moment Tav’s eyes were on him, his eyes jumping up from the pages and staring right back at them, a smirk growing on his lips and he snapped the book closed. Then he would stroll over, running a hand through his hair and swapping that smirk for a charming smile. 

Then the flirting would begin. A different line every night, each one cheesier than the last, but still managing to make Tav blush—

“Is that fire hot? Or is it just you?” 

“I do love seeing you on your knees, darling.” 

“You handle that wood quite well.”

“Is something burning? No? Perhaps it’s just your burning loins.” 

Of course tonight was no different. Tav cursed to themselves as Astarion made his way over. They would always attempt to ignore him, to pretend that they never locked eyes and that Tav didn’t notice him approaching. Gale stood off to the side, the wizard prepping their dinner and already accustomed to the little game that Astarion loved to play. He sighed as he chopped a few potatoes, mumbling under his breath how Tav lasted even shorter than usual. 

The crunching of boots over rocks and dirt signaled his arrival, but Tav kept their eyes on the fire, refusing to look up—

For as long as they could manage anyway. 

“Tav, If you inhale too much smoke, I’ll gladly give you CPR.” 

“What?!” Gale turned from his prepping and tossed his knife to the side. “Astarion, that one doesn’t even make sense!” 

“Mind your business, Gale.” Tav finally looked up to where he stood, Astarion now glaring at Gale with his arms crossed over his chest. “Or well.. I mean.. Honestly, I’m running out of pickup lines here. I’d like to see you come up with something better.” 

“How about ‘Stop, drop, and… roll into bed with me?” Gale offered. 

“Hm. Too forward. I try to be more subtle with Tav, but.. I can understand why someone like you would use a line like that.” 

“Right……. Because offering mouth to mouth is much more subtle.” 

“I’m so glad we could agree!” 

Gale rolled his eyes and turned back to the vegetables. “Just get on with it, would you?” 

Astarion brought his focus back to Tav, silently offering a hand to help them stand. “You know, if you didn’t get so damn flustered I wouldn’t have to do this every night.” 

Tav laughed, their eyes dropping to the ground between them. “I can’t help it… you’re so—“

“—Devilishly handsome, unbelievably charming, an elf with a smile to die for—“

Gale snorted. “A pompous ass—“

Astarion ignored him. “Luscious hair, pouty kissable lips—“

“—Yes, yes, all of those things… Minus the pompous ass,” Tav said and paused. They pressed their lips together, thinking a moment before continuing. “Well, maybe a little bit of a pompous ass.” 

“So then, what’s the problem here?” Astarion gestured between them, his arms waving back and forth quickly. “I like you, and darling, you clearly like me…” 

“Astarion..,” Tav began. “You’re so far out of my league… I can’t help but think there is some kind of ulterior motive for you to be showing so much interest in me.” 

“I assure you, there isn’t. Not… Well, not anymore anyway.” 

“‘Not anymore’?” Gale asked. “What the hells is that supposed to mean?” 

“Gale, why don’t you scurry the fuck along and leave us to it?” Astarion hissed. 

“Oh, I’m enjoying this far too much. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re about to confess your love for them, and I’m not missing out on that.” 

“Yes, but—“

“Then confess already, Mystra help you, you’re hopeless…”

“Look,” Astarion sighed and turned his attention fully to Tav, ignoring the laugh that Gale sent his way. “I’ve never had actual real feelings for another person before. I don’t know how to approach a person without the intent of stealing them away for Cazador’s benefit. When I first met you I planned to use you, to have you as some kind of shield if he were to ever find me… But then.. I fell for you. 

“And of course, not knowing how to woo someone without using my body… I went the cheesy pickup lines route. Which I know isn’t exactly endearing, or really attractive… I just didn’t know how else to interact with you! I want you to be comfortable with me, to trust me like I trust you… 

“And darling, since I’m being honest here— you are in no way below me. Do you seriously not know how painfully attractive you are? I’ve been losing my mind with desire since day one. The way you smile at me and make me feel like the most important man in the world, how you run to my side for so much as a hangnail, when you laugh at my jokes, or blush just from my gaze—

“I’ve fallen so madly in love with you, it pains me to think of a life without you, and we haven’t so much as hugged…— um Tav? Are you alright?” 

Their hands covered their face, shaking their head as the heat continued to build in their cheeks. This was too much for them to handle. The occasional flirting was already playing games with their heart, but now? A full confession? “I might— I might need a minute.” 

“I think you broke them,” Gale moved to stand beside Astarion and reached out to poke the back of Tav’s hand. 

Astarion did the same, both of them just poking at the back of Tav’s hands— until they crouched down to avoid them, dropping their head between their knees and muffling a scream into their pants. 

“That was a hell of a confession,” Gale admitted. “Even I was swooning.” 

“Why thank you.” 

“Now what?” 

Astarion hummed. “I’m not sure.” 

“Want me to cast a spell on them or something?” 

Astarion waved him off. “Darling.” Astarion bent down and ran his hand down the back of Tav’s head. “You did hear that I love you, didn’t you?” 

“Yes,” they mumbled. “And I love you too.” 

“Well then, I suppose that’s that.” Gale laughed. “Maybe now they’ll stop melting into a damn puddle around you.” 

“Hah! I doubt it.”

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

Later~

Gale: Before, you said you wanted to be more subtle.

Astarion: Yes?

Gale: But one night you insinuated that you wanted Tav to give you a blow job.

Astarion: …..

Gale: …..

Astarion: …I didn't want to admit that I liked your pick-up line.

Gale: HAHA! I knew it! I win.

Astarion: One of us has Tav napping in their tent, looking adorable as ever. Who's the real winner?

Gale: …Touché.

[iheartkremy]

Kremy trying (and failing) to teach gricko how to cook a proper meal

This one made me chuckle so it gets a doodle and a oneshot

Kremy & Gricko - It’s Just Gumbo (OUAW Oneshot)

story below :) ⬇️

“Alright Gricko. This is just Gumbo,” Kremy had ditched his overcoat and bowtie for a simple apron. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbow, and he stepped up beside Gricko. “Nice and simple, alright? No way you can screw this up.”

Gricko hummed, one hand up to his chin in a pondering pose as he scanned the equipment and ingredients in front of him. Kremy noticed Gricko wasn’t wearing the apron he’d handed to him.

“Trust me Kremy, I can handle this no problem!” He crossed his arms and leaned sideways with a smug look on his face. Kremy nodded grimly as he noticed that the apron was flung next to his neatly folded clothes at the entrance to the kitchen.

“I already prepared the roux for ya.” He brought over the large pot, which had a dark viscous liquid resting at the bottom. Kremy figured that making Gricko wait half an hour just for the base was going to lead him to just walking out of the kitchen. He actually wanted to try and get him to understand the basics.

Gricko hopped up onto the counter to get a good look at it. “Is it supposed to be that dark? It looks a little… burnt.” Kremy’s eye twitched, and he firmly planted the lid on the pot, causing the goblin to flinch. “Hey! You almost got my nose!”

Kremy was already starting to see why Frost had given up on trying to teach Gricko to cook. This was a dish he’d been making since he was a kid, he knew what he was doing.

“All I need you to do right now is to cut and cook the sausage. Can ya do that for me?” He placed a hand on his shoulder. Gricko nodded, and Kremy placed two large sausages in his hands. He hopped over to the other side of the counter and watched as he began to look at the knives in the knife block. He sighed and left him to it as he turned his attention to the vegetables in front of him.

Cooking was always a nice way for Kremy to get his attention off of the things on his mind. The rhythm he got into while chopping was a nice and steady sound. He bobbed his head a bit with each cut. When he arrived at the celery, he spun the knife around between his fingers and easily sliced the stick into small pieces. He dusted off his hands as he put all the fresh veggies into a small bowl to dump into the roux once Gricko finished with the sausage.

That thought reminded him that he was not alone in the kitchen today. He spun around to see Gricko looking over the pan. All seemed normal, until his eyes trailed over to where he’d cut the sausage. He saw a bread knife covered in bits of shredded meat and juice, and saw that it was also all over the counter as well. There didn’t appear to be any kind of cutting board anywhere.

Gricko was grinning as he picked up the pan and made a scooping motion as he attempted to flip all the sausage pieces like a pancake. Kremy cried out and raced over to the stove where the he could practically hear the sausages weeping as he saw the state they were in.

Some slices were paper thin, where others were as thick as a marshmallow. All of them looked as though they’d been hacked at violently, rather than cleanly cut. Some where black and burnt, and some where still bright pink. Kremy reeled back, and needed a moment to process and breathe.

“Kremy?” Gricko said, and with his back turned, Kremy could do nothing but give him a weak thumbs up. Gricko must’ve taken this as a sign to put the sausage in the pot, because he could hear the sound of the meat slapping against the roux at the bottom of the pot.

Kremy twisted back around, but it Gricko had already gotten ahold of his vegetables and put them in as well. Gricko smiled blankly at him with his hands on his hips.

“Alright, what now?”

He wanted to shake the goblin, and tell him to never step foot in a kitchen again. Instead, he straightened himself out, and found a wooden spoon in the drawer. He passed it to Gricko and he began to stir.

Looking at the huge pile of ingredients they had yet to add, Kremy was trying to find some way to save this gumbo. He knew that doing the rest of the recipe on his own would inevitably lead to Gricko complaining that he didn’t get to do anything (though that would be for the best.) so he opted to just let everyone know ahead of time that they shouldn’t eat it.

But his mind wandered to Torbek. He’s eaten rocks and worse before with no issue, so this would be fine for him, right?

—————

Three raps on Torbek’s door, and a sigh from the lizardfolk as Torbek opened the door.

“Ohhh! It’s Mr. Kremy and Gricko! Torbek is soooo happy that his friends came to visit him.” The bugbear was obviously happy despite the late hour. Gricko was holding the large pot with a grin and Kremy motioned for Torbek to take it. He did and set it on the floor, lifting the pot lid. Kremy’s shoulders tensed as he stared at the monstrosity he was trying to pass off as food.

Despite it having been off the burner for about half an hour, thick bubbles were still rising in the surface. Shreds of meat, some raw and some burnt floating around. There was a thick layer of some mysterious liquid that was obviously sitting above the roux, and upon seeing a dead fly in the mix, he reached for the pot. This was too disgusting to serve even to Torbek.

Torbek completely missed Kremy’s action and put the lid back on, holding it in his arms. “Ohhh, it looks delicious! Thaaank you!” Gricko puffed out his chest, and Kremy wanted to hold his hat over his heart in shame.

“It was all Gricko.” Was all he could muster as Torbek closed the door.

[pennyblossom-meta]

Gale/Wyll banter

Here's a collection of Gale/Wyll banter that I found in the dialogue files. I hope this is useful as both fanfiction resources and general curiosity :)

Help: I'm fairly sure there's a line from Wyll (?) mentioning how Gale doesn't ever eat vegetables, but for the life of me I can't find it. UPDATE 30/12/2023: Found it and added it to the post, the banter happens with the MC during the tiefling party. Also added a couple more interesting tidbits of dialogue.

Warning: long post.

Act 01

Loss of powers

Wyll points out that he used to kill big monsters, and now a few goblins are a challenge. What gives? Gale remarks it must be the tadpole. Wyll: Was a time I tussled with hill giants without breaking a sweat. Wyll: Now, a mere werebear could swat me halfway to Amn. devnote: Amn = city on the Sword Coast. Pronounced "AAHM" like UK Eng "arm". Gale: Strange things are happening to us. What festers in our minds may well impel our bodies.

—

Netherese magic

Wyll recalls the hag said 'Netherese' and asks Gale what he knows. Astarion adds a thought if he is present. Wyll: Ethel mentioned Netherese magic. What in blazes does that mean? Gale: Magic from the fallen empire of Netheril. Ancient, exceedingly dangerous, and quite unrivalled. Astarion: Wonderful! I'd hate to be destroyed by any common old magic. devnote: A little sarcastic. You've been told the dangerous magic inside you is ancient and unrivalled

—

Goblin raids

Wyll: I've known goblin raiders to slaughter entire villages and strip them for loot - but I've never seen one ravaged like this. Gale: It's hard to imagine anyone who'd willingly inflict such devastation, be they zealots, marauders, invading armies... A sign of far worse to come, I fear.

—

Act 02

Mountain Pass

Gale: These cragged hillls make for weary soles. I see why most headed inland prefer the smooth sailing of the Chionthar. Wyll: More importantly, the land west of here suffers under a terrible curse. Gale: You've seen it for yourself? Wyll: I've glimpsed that doom during my travels, but never dared get close. Wyll: If we continue this way, we may get too close for comfort.

—

Scary woods

Wyll: What a dismal forest. Monsters could be lurking behind any and every tree. Gale: We'd be wise to fear the trees themselves. It feels like the forest itself longs for our destruction. devnote: serious Wyll: Frustrating, that. Wyll: Monsters, I can fight. But I can no more sever these shadows than I could the wind or the sun.

—

Approaching Moonrise

Gale: Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We're nearing the Heart of the Absolute, I'm certain of it. Wyll: Then let us push forward, heads high, weapons in hand, and turn this tower to rubble. Gale: Your confidence is encouraging but a little premature. Let's keep our eyes on the task ahead. Or eye, as the case may be.

—

Tollhouse

Gale: A tollhouse like this would only be merited in the most prosperous of settlements. This was once a thriving trade route. Wyll: Should it be any wonder? The Chionthar's waters carry merchant vessels from as far east as Berdusk. devnote: bur-DUSK Wyll: And they wouldn't have brought just trade goods, but song, dance, and custom. Riches of the mind and the spirit. Wyll: So much was lost when the darkness fell.

—

At the Mason's Guild

Gale: The masons here thought they were building something to last. How wrong they were. Wyll: Perhaps it's a blessing that none of them survived to see it fall to the shadows. Gale: No need for such a grim assumption. Halsin helped many to escape these shadows before the town was consumed. Wyll: Then some masons were more blessed still, if they could put their talents to use elsewhere. Wyll: Perhaps some of their work even graces Baldur's Gate.

—

Guildhall

Wyll: It might seem a bit ramshackle, but this place has a boastworthy bar. Gale: A bar is only as good as its cellars. Which vintages can we expect to find on their racks? devnote: Anticipating a nice drink Wyll: Here, a bottle is judged more by its ability to crack heads than the quality of its contents. Gale: Ah. If that's the main criteria then I shall reset my expectations accordingly. Water it is. devnote: Good humoured

—

House of Healing

Wyll: This was a hospital? Feels more like a prison. Gale: A common enough interpretation. Sickness has a nasty habit of making you feel trapped, if only within the confines of your own body. Gale: I once spent weeks convalescing in the Hospice of St Laupsenn (*) after a nasty bout of ruddy pox. For all their kindness, leaving that place behind felt like freedom to me. Wyll: I've always relied on the kindness of the healers and menders of the Coast. Better a cleric's healing touch than a chirurgeon's scalpel.

(Lore note*): The Hospice of St. Laupsenn is a temple of Ilmater in the North Ward of Waterdeep.

—

Moonrise General_AssaultState

Wyll: This is it, Gale - today, we annihilate the heart of the Absolute's power. The bards will sing of our victory here. Gale: Entirely unnecessary. Though if they are so inclined, I might be convinced to share a stanza or two of my own for inspiration. devnote: Feigned modesty

—

Moonrise General

Wyll: This is no aimless horde - the Absolute's forces are organised. What do you make of it, Gale? Gale: All enemies have some chink in their armour, no matter how much they like to believe themselves invulnerable. That's what we must find. devnote: Cheery/determined Wyll: And if we don't find any clear weakness? Gale: Then we hope our mutual strengths are enough to dominate them. Or, we die nobly in the attempt. devnote: Cheery/determined

—

Moonrise Prison

Gale: Not a devil in sight. How disappointing. COL_MizorasRescue_State_SavedMizora = False, TWN_Wyll_State_MizorasCaptureHappened, MOO_MizorasRescue_Event_WalkedAway = False Wyll: I doubt a few iron bars are sufficient to hold one of Zariel's. Gale: True enough. But an illithid pod? That would probably do the trick. devnote: Cogs whirring Wyll: I wager you're right. Ah, Gale - what a pleasure to see a genius' mind at work.

Wyll: Of course Mizora was Zariel's captured asset. How did I not see it coming? TWN_Wyll_State_MizorasCaptureHappened Gale: It's in a devil's nature to conceal the truth - you can't fault yourself for that. Wyll: I've been pacted for seven years on, Gale. I should be able to read between Mizora's lines by now, no matter how narrow the gap.

Gale: How long have you been pacted to Mizora, Wyll? Wyll: Seven years. Seven years of hunting the monsters of the Sword Coast - and seven years of Mizora's tight leash. Wyll: And seven years of wondering if I'd ever rid myself of her - or if I even should.

—

Act 03

At the Basilisk Gate

Gale: The history of the city itself is captured in the archives here - a fascinating resource. Wyll: I wonder what those archives will reveal about us a hundred years hence. Gale: Only the most excellent and complimentary things. With some encouragement from us, of course.

—

Morphic Pool

Gale: Whatever the outcome of what's just ahead, it will be the stuff of legends. Wyll: In that case, someone needs to survive to tell the story. Gale: My money's on you, Wyll. Wyll: I'm betting on all of us.

—

Misc banter

Gale's ticking time bombs

Wyll points out that Gale has two ticking time-bombs inside him - but he's holding together pretty well. Wyll: I admire your courage, Gale. Gale: Thank you. Any particular reason? Wyll: Between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. Gale: What can I say? Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.

—

Wyll thinks Gale has potential

Wyll tells Gale he's got potential, and suggests he rename himself something more... heroic. Gale finds Wyll quite the tryhard. Wyll: You're an impressive fighter, Gale. You should consider a new name. Gale: I take it you have some suggestions? Wyll: 'The Wizard Wonder!' Or how about, 'The Master of the Weave'? Gale: Tempting. But I think we might already have the maximum number of theatrical titles.

—

With Laz'el and Wyll

Lae'zel notes that Gale knows a lot about mind flayers. He responds with information about his training. If there, Wyll chimes in as well. Lae'zel: You strike me cleverer than most istiki, Gale. Multiple tutors, I should guess. devnote: istiki - non-gith. IH-stick-ee Gale: Many a wise man and woman indeed. Waterdeep is the home of myriad scholars. Wyll: Ah, the City of Splendours. Spent a whole Fleetswake there with my father. What a delight.

—

Romance

The following dialogues are marked as ROM, which I assume is a flag for triggering when there's an active Romance with the MC.

Romance banter, Act 1

Gale: If your natural charm isn't quite up to scratch, Wyll, there are magical means of adding a little flourish of charisma. Wyll: A kind offer, but I think I'd rather pursue things the old fashioned way.

Gale: Have you noticed any attachments of the more, erm, romantic variety flourishing in our camp, Wyll? devnote: Fishing for info, a bit awkward. Wyll: I think I'm not the right person to be asking. Wyll: I can recognise a troll's silhouette on a far horizon, but I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

—

Romance banter, Act 2

Gale: I knew you were a graceful man, Wyll, but I hear you're quite the dancer too. Gale: I've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. Mine was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff's Ball. Wyll: I'd have love to have witnessed it, Gale. I wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

Gale: I've heard that in Baldur's Gate, 'wizard' is also a term used for one who eschews their more, ahem, carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll? devnote: Fishing for info, a bit annoyed about what he's heard Wyll: Where are we going with this, Gale? Gale: Oh, nowhere. I just think it a rather cruel misnomer. Not at all reflective of the glamour wizarding life affords. devnote: A bit sulky/sensitive about it

—

Romance banter, Act 3

Wyll: I'm probably going to regret this, but Gale - if I'm to be wed, would you like to make a speech? Gale: You've asked the right wizard. My oratory skills have left many a wedding guest weeping in their seat. devnote: Honoured/very excited at the prospect of speaking at length. Oblivious as to why his previous listeners might have been left weeping… Wyll: Promise it will last less than half an hour? Gale: I can promise it will feel like less than half an hour... devnote: Trying to avoid committing to a short speech

Wyll: I used to believe the beauty of first love was unable to be surpassed. Wyll: But Gale - you are so much more tolerable now you've found your second. Gale: I'll take that comment with the sincerity and good will I assume it was intended. devnote: Not rising to it, cheerful

—

Misc quotes

Tiefling party

Gale: Wyll's a good man. He may actually be a tried-and-true storybook hero. Gale: Then again he's so full of himself it's a small miracle he hasn't resorted to self-cannibalism yet.

Wyll: You're running away from Gale's cooking. Wyll: It's delicious, don't get me wrong, but that man wouldn't eat a vegetable unless Mystra herself commanded it.

Other

Gale: So, you didn't fancy sharpening up the old moniker? I'd have thought the 'Blade of Frontiers' might be feeling a bit dull after all you've been through.

Player: Sounds heavenly. Mind if I join you? Wyll: Not at all. You hunt the deer, I'll scrounge up the ale. Prepare your belly for roast a la Ravengard! Wyll: Let's hope Gale doesn't take offence if I assume cooking duties, just the once.

[dullgecko]

During the summer after junior year, I think Riz gets banned from taking on more cases, and in protest he has some huge deep dives into other hobbies. He especially gets into gardening and foraging (free food is always good!) and eventually he gets Gorgug in on it too and they spend a lot of the summer together because they live so close to each other.

The sudden hard stop at the end of junior year when all of his extra curriculars paused for the summer had left Riz in a full burnout. The goblin shutting down and ignoring everyone for nearly a week as his body forced him to rest and recover from an incredibly stressful year.

His mom had seen how messed up he was when he wasn't able to keep carrying himself on just momentum and adrenaline anymore, banning him from taking any cases for the rest of the break so that he could actually be a teenager in one of his last long vacations before he finished school.

Riz had been angry to say the least, but he wasnt going to argue with his mom and had instead thrown himself at something else to keep him busy. Spend some time outside the house? Spend some time with your friends? Sure he could do that. He could do that so well AND he'd document it so he could use it to bolster his scholarship applications.

He'd asked Gorgug if he could use a small patch of his garden for his experiments since he lived in an appartment that didn't even have a balcony, the half orc being more than happy to help him clear away a large section of their lawn (after getting permission from his parents of course) and set up a everything they needed to start growing vegetables. Riz had gotten pretty badly sunburnt more than once during their gardening activities (goblins were a subterranian, nocturnal species and he really should have been applying sunscreen more often) but, once they started harvesting, was thoroughly enjoying the massive amounts of fruits and vegatables the pair of them managed to grow all by themselves.

His mom couldn't even complain about how much work he was putting into it, not when their grocery bill was reduced by more than half.

[rzyraffek]

Hello I have a NSFWish?? Request could you do Eddie Gluskin and maybe Brahms W a pervy s/o? Like always checking them out, grabbing their booty and pecs - I know you've done some NSFWish stuff and this isn't explicit so I thought it'd be okie!

Thank you!!

- 🎨

O my god your a genius, I swear those guys are not expecting that! I hope that you don't mind adding few characters 😈 rest of notes at the end

They/them, Request open (yeah I know im taking long time to write but its summer time this person (me) is going o u t s i d e )

Slashers with pervy s/o

Eddie Gluskin

BRO TAKES IT AS INVITATION

Litteraly slaps their ass back

Kinda suprised at first, not used to people being so straightforward with him... and so brave... and- oh my darling your so...so...

bro caught simping

When they slapped him first time he just slowly turns around, he is about to whoop that ass HARDD

I swear anything playfully or just straightforward creepy/pervy this dude sees as flirt and a suggestion

But completely oblivious to their stares and eyes wandering in places, untill he looks at them directly he won't notice, BCS NOONE EVER YKNOW DID THAT TO HIM HE DOESNT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Brahms Heelshire

I just realised that hes name is so british... omg just say it out loud BRAHMS HeelSHIRE this dude is more british than queen herself (rip btw) LIKE IF anyone in amercia or anywhere else really was named brahms fucking heelshire he would be bullied so hard. Tbh maybe that's why he's in walls

Feels threatened... he was suppose to be pervy one! Not his s/o :((

At least you guys have fun running around mansion and slapping eachothers ass??? Yay relationship goals!!!

Man says "I mean I support equal rights" just to trow them from stairs or something

Also HE LITTERALY BLUSHES when they touch him normally NOW IMAGINE IF S/O does that to his bootie

"Are you checking me out again? Stoophh"

Pls he just tries to cuddle when he feels their arms slowly moving lower and lower and- hold up what do you think your doing love?🤨😳

Asa Emory

No

Nuh uh

You dont

He will litteraly cut their hands off if they try to do anything skechy

Hes so dreamy

Pov: asa just cutting vegetables for dinner, vibing, then suddenly out of dark corridor, emerges goblin-like creature (s/o) with evil grin, running to attack him, he tries to dogde it, but their evil arms are too quick, goblin smacks his ass so hard he collapses(dramatically), Asa feels the wave of embarrassment and dies immediately

Its currently 4am

Tbh he kinda likes the attention, like s/o is such a simp for him rn, his ego loves itttt

If some stuff doesr make sense im sorry, its 4am and I want to clear my inbox asap cuz I feel bad for all people that are waiting for my fics. Although you still can request!!! Im just trying to get some ideas for old ones (cuz tbh some of yall dont really have ideas for requests and just say "write for this dude ok bye" 😔😔 plz ily all but I cant work with that, I need some sort of idea, even boring one or overused

[anqelblccm]

⊹˳⁺ ⠀⠀⠀ YOU’RE  WATCHING  :  HERO READS THIRST TWEETS  ! 

ib.  :  buzzfeed celebs thirst tweet videos  ! 

final  word  count  :  2.6k

warning(s)  :  fans thirsting, as usual. lmk if i missed anything else  !

the  video  opens  with  hero  sitting  on  a  sleek  black  chair,  the  blue  background  glowing  behind  him.  he’s  dressed  casually  but  fashionably:  an  oversized  pink  hoodie,  ripped  black  jeans,  and  chunky  sneakers.  his  hair  is  slightly  tousled,  and  his  playful  smirk  hints  at  the  chaos  that’s  about  to  come.  the  camera  cuts  out,  showing  a  clip  of  future  tweets  he  will  react  to.  

'i  want  hero  to  punch  me  in  the  face,  but  softly,  so  i  can  feel  the  touch  of  his  hands  while  i  die  peacefully.'

“softly?!”  he  exclaims,  flexing  to  the  camera,  “my  hands  are  registered  as  weapons  of  mass  destruction  in  five  countries.”  his  playful  tone  adds  a  touch  of  humour  to  the  reaction,  entertaining  the  audience.

the  camera  cuts  off  again  before  he  can  say  anything  else.

'hero  could  run  me  over  with  a  car,  and  i’d  thank  him  while  handing  over  my  life  savings...  just  saying!'  

“run  you  over?  with  a  car?  me?  do  i  give  off  those  vibes?”  his  voice  comes  out  genuinely  surprised,  and  he  tilts  his  head  to  the  side.  the  flashcard  he  was  given  slips  from  his  hand,  and  he  flinches  down  to  pick  it  up,  “oh  fu–”  

another  cut  and  it’s  officially  the  start  of  the  video.

“hi,  i’m  hero,  and  today  i’m  here  with  buzzfeed  to  read  your  thirst  tweets,”  he  waves  to  the  camera,  “now  i’ve  been  warned…  and  frankly,  i’m  scared  out  of  my  wits.  let’s  dive  into  this  pool  of  thirst!”  he  picks  up  the  first  tweet  from  the  pile,  dramatically  unfolding  it  like  a  top-secret  government  document.  

“i  actually  like  going  on  tiktok  to  look  for  my  edits  because  i  know  there’s  always  going  to  be  thirsty  fans  in  the  comments,”  hero  says,  laughing  as  he  explained,  “i  mean,  i  recently  found  one  edit  where  the  comments  were  just  off  the  wall.  first  time  i  saw  people  as  thirsty  as  that,  and  i’m  baffled.”

the  camera  zooms  on  his  face,  “are  you  guys  okay  out  there?”  

it  goes  back  to  normal  as  he  reads  out  the  first  tweet.  

'i  can’t  tell  if  hero  is  a  heavenly  angel  or  a  demonic  chaos  goblin,  but  either  way,  i’d  let  him  destroy  my  life.'

hero  immediately  starts  laughing,  almost  falling  back  in  his  chair.  “ah,  you  got  me!  i’m  actually  both.  a  chaotic  angel,  if  you  will.”  he  smirks  knowingly,  adjusting  his  imaginary  halo.  “but  don’t  blame  me  when  your  life  turns  into  a  k-drama.  i  can’t  control  what  happens  next.”  as  he  mimics  holding  a  halo  above  his  head,  he  suddenly  lets  it  'fall'  to  the  ground.

“oops,  there  goes  my  angelic  streak,”  he  says  with  a  monotone  voice.

he  picks  up  the  second  card  and  giggles,  “okay,  this  one  is  pretty  mild,  but  it  goes:  ‘hero  could  say  the  most  random  word,  and  i’d  melt  into  a  puddle  of  goo.  try  it.  say  potato,  i  dare  you.’”  taking  up  the  challenge,  he  smirks  mischievously,  leaning  closer  to  the  camera  as  it  zooms  on  his  face.  the  audio  quiets  down  as  he  whispers  'potato'  dramatically.  immediately  after,  he  bursts  into  laughter,  shaking  his  head.

“y’all  out  here  falling  for  that?  do  you  want  me  to  start  a  podcast  where  i  just  list  vegetables  and  fruits?  ‘cause  i’ll  do  it.”

the  following  tweet  comes  immediately  after,  and  hero  grasps  it  with  both  hands.

'every  time  hero  posts  a  new  photo,  my  standards  go  higher,  and  my  will  to  live  plummets.  is  that  what  they  call  balance?'

he  clutches  the  tweet  like  a  love  letter  to  his  chest,  looking  mockingly  emotional.

“wow,”  he  mutters,  “the  duality  of  this  tweet  is…  raising  your  standards  but  losing  your  will  to  live?  that’s  so  poetic.  i  might  put  this  in  my  next  album.”  turning  up  the  dramatics,  he  pretends  to  write  in  an  imaginary  notebook,  mouthing  the  words  'balance,  standard,  plummets.'

he  then  fake-nods  like  a  motivational  speaker.  “life  is  all  about  balance.  raise  your  standards,  but  don’t  forget  to  lower  your  expectations  for  me  in  real  life.  i’m  a  mess.”  he  says  the  last  sentence  as  he  throws  the  card  behind  him.

finally,  the  tweet  from  the  start  of  the  video  shows  up,  and  the  sentence  is  shown  again:  'hero  could  run  me  over  with  a  car,  and  i’d  thank  him  while  handing  over  my  life  savings…  just  saying!'

hero  stares  at  the  card,  blinking.  the  silence  is  loud  at  that  moment.  then  he  slowly  lowers  it,  looking  directly  into  the  camera.  “run  you  over?  with  a  car?  me?  do  i  give  off  those  vibes?”  his  voice  comes  out  genuinely  surprised,  and  he  tilts  his  head  to  the  side.  the  flashcard  he  was  given  slips  from  his  hand,  and  he  flinches  down  to  pick  it  up,  “oh  fu–”.  after  the  clip  cuts  off,  he  is  returned  to  his  seat,  clutching  his  chest.  “do  i  look  like  a  dangerous  person!?”

he  pauses  for  a  beat,  then  leans  conspiratorially,  “okay,  maybe  a  little.  but  only  if  the  car  is  a  tesla–  eco-friendly  death  only.”

'hero’s  smile  has  the  power  to  cure  depression.  i  want  it  injected  into  my  veins  immediately.'

at  the  tweet,  he  grins  wide,  exaggerating  the  brightness  of  his  smile.  “you  want  this?”  the  smile  stays  on  his  face,  yet  his  eyes  widen  a  little,  and  if  you  look  closely,  it  might  remind  you  of  the  movie  smile.  “injected,  really?  that’s  a  lot  of  pressure!”

he  suddenly  puts  on  a  serious,  doctor-like  expression  (pushing  his  imaginary  glasses  and  everything),  pretending  to  write  a  prescription.  “take  one  smile  thrice  daily,  but  beware  of  side  effects.  they  may  include  thirst,  obsession  and  uncontrollable  laughter.”

'hero,  please  step  on  me.  no  explanation  is  needed.  just  do  it,  king.'

his  eyes  widen,  and  he  physically  recoils  from  the  tweet,  letting  it  fall  on  the  floor.  “step  on  you!?  are  you…  okay?”  his  expression  shows  concern,  but  his  eyes  also  have  a  teasing  glint.  “do  you  need  water?  a  hug?  therapy,  maybe!?”

he  lifts  his  foot  slightly,  showing  off  the  chunky  bottom  and  playfully  pointing  at  it,  “listen,  i’ve  got  big  feet,  and  the  shoes  are  thick  today.  i’m  doing  this  for  your  safety.”  he  nervously  laughs.  “also,  this  is  why  i  don’t  read  my  dms.”

'i  could  watch  hero  breathe  for  hours  and  still  think  it’s  the  most  attractive  thing  i’ve  ever  seen.  like  he  could  inhale,  and  i’d  disintegrate  like  thanos  snapped  his  fingers.'  

he  does  an  exaggerated  breathing  demonstration,  snapping  his  fingers  as  he  says,  “is  it  working  for  you?  are  you  disintegrating,  or  do  i  need  to  do  it  again?”  he  rambles  at  this  point,  “goodbye,  half  of  my  fandom.  it’s  been  real.”  he  laughs,  shaking  his  head.

“maybe  i  should  start  a  podcast  for  that  too.  call  it  ‘sleeping  with  hero’.”  as  soon  as  he  said  that,  the  realisation  was  shown  on  his  face,  “actually,  no,  i  take  it  back!  don’t  you  dare  put  this  clip  in  the  video!”  he  panics,  grabbing  his  face,  and  the  words  ‘(we  did.)’  show  up  in  that  second.

'hero  is  the  human  embodiment  of  i  can  fix  him,  but  let’s  be  honest,  i’m  the  one  who  needs  fixing.'  he  immediately  points  at  the  camera,  “you’re  right,  i  am  unfixable.  but  i’m  available  for  emotional  support…  maybe.  only  if  there’s  food  involved–  not  in  that  way,  you  perverts!”  hero  quickly  blurts  out  as  there’s  laughing  behind  the  camera.  

'hero,  i  just  know  you  smell  good.  like  expensive  cologne  and  heartbreak.  drop  the  name  of  your  scent,  please!'

he  leans  back,  flipping  his  short  hair,  “expensive  cologne  and  heartbreak?  i’ll  take  it.  also,  my  scent  is  called  ‘mind  your  business  by  hero.’”  a  laugh  quickly  comes  out  of  him,  and  he  has  to  take  a  natural  breath  to  continue,  “but  for  real,  it’s  probably  just  my  laundry  detergent.  shout  out  to  my  washing  machine,”  he  clicks  his  fingers  and  winks  to  the  camera.

'if  hero  ever  stood  on  my  neck,  i’d  thank  him  for  the  honour  and  ask  for  an  encore.'

he  dramatically  gasps,  holding  his  neck  as  if  he  can  physically  feel  it.  “why  are  y’all  so  violent!?”  standing  up  from  his  chair,  his  arms  fly  around  as  he  gets  deep  into  the  tweet.  “standing  on  your  neck!?  what  did  your  neck  ever  do  to  you?”

he  pauses  and  sits  down,  squinting  at  the  camera,  “also,  what  does  an  encore  even  look  like  in  this  situation?  do  i  step  off  and  then  step  back  on?  i  need  answers.”  he’s  far  deep  now.

'i  don’t  want  hero  to  be  my  boyfriend.  i  want  him  to  be  my  enemy  so  we  can  have  dramatic  tension  and  eventually  fall  in  love  in  a  slow-burn  romance.'

hero  places  the  card  down  slowly,  giving  the  camera  an  impressed  look.  “i  mean,  i  mentioned  k-drama  moments  just  now,  but  this  takes  the  top.”  he  looks  down  at  the  tweet  again,  “whoever  wrote  this  has  been  watching  way  too  many  shows.  but  honestly?”  he  leans  towards  the  camera,  “you’ve  got  me  intrigued  now.  what’s  the  plot?  where’s  the  script?  i  need  a  sixteen-episode  outline  on  my  desk  by  tomorrow.”

“and  it  better  be  good,”  he  playfully  threatens.

'the  way  hero’s  jawline  could  cut  through  steel…  sir,  are  you  aware  you’re  a  weapon  of  mass  destruction?'

he  touches  his  jaw  dramatically  at  the  question,  pretending  to  cut  himself  on  its  sharpness,  “a  weapon  of  mass  destruction?  so,  just  like  my  muscles?”  he  flexes  again,  but  it’s  not  noticeable  because  of  the  hoodie.

“don’t  worry,”  he  leans  in,  “i’m  only  dangerous  if  you’re…  weak.”  he  bursts  into  laughter,  waving  his  hands.  “i  can’t  even  say  that  with  a  straight  face!”

'hero’s  hands  look  like  they  belong  on  an  album  cover.  can  he  just  hold  my  entire  existence  instead?'

he  holds  up  his  hands,  wiggling  his  fingers,  “these  hands?  album-cover  hands?  i  mean,  thank  you,  but  also,  you really trust me with your existence?”  he  pauses,  staring  at  his  hands  thoughtfully,  “but  i’ll  consider  it  if  i  ever  release  a  ‘holding  your  existence’  concept  album.”

'if  hero  doesn’t  personally  ruin  my  life  by  2025,  i’ll  file  a  complaint  with  the  universe.'

he  snorts,  barely  containing  his  laughter,  “the  universe  has  a  complaints  department?  what’s  the  number?  i  need  to  call  them  about  my  life  too.”  he  mocks  a  serious  expression,  “also,  ruining  lives  is  a  big  responsibility.  can  i  start  small,  like  misplacing  your  phone  charger?  or  if  you  can  come  to  my  concert,  the  tickets  for  my  world  tour  will  go  live  soon,  then  i  will  ruin  your  life!”  he  shamelessly  promotes,  winking  to  the  camera.

'i  bet  hero’s  the  type  to  steal  your  hoodie  and  look  better  than  you  ever  could.  and  i’m  okay  with  that.'  

he  laughs,  nodding  with  the  tweet  as  he  pinches  at  the  shoulder  of  his  hoodie,  “okay,  first  of  all,  facts.  i  will  look  better  in  it.  second,  don’t  let  me  near  your  closet  because  i’m  not  just  stealing  hoodies–  i’m  taking  the  whole  wardrobe.”

'hero’s  thighs  could  crush  watermelons,  and  honestly,  i’m  volunteering  to  be  the  watermelon!'

hero  freezes,  face  in  his  hands,  as  he  tries  not  to  laugh.  “y’all?  a  watermelon!?  is  this  where  we  are  now?  i  don’t  even  work  out  that  much!”  ‘(that’s  a  lie.)’  is  shown  on  the  screen  as  he  stands  up,  pretending  to  flex  his  legs.  “but  thank  you  for  the  confidence  boost.  i’ll  be  thinking  about  this  every  leg  day  now.”

'hero  could  tell  me  my  haircut  looks  like  a  mop,  and  i’d  thank  him  for  noticing.'

he  reads  the  tweet  twice,  blinking  in  disbelief,  “first  of  all,  your  haircut  doesn’t  look  like  a  mop…  probably.  second,  why  are  y’all  thanking  me  for  hypothetical  insults?  should  i  just  start  roasting  everyone?”  he  pretends  to  scold  the  camera,  “your  socks  don’t  match.  you  look  tired;  you  drink  too  much  iced  coffee.”

satisfied,  he  leans  back  in  the  chair,  laughing,  “okay,  i’m  done.  you  are  wild.”

'i  want  hero  to  dropkick  me  into  the  sun,  and  i’ll  thank  him  for  the  free  vacation.'  

“dropkick  you  into  the  sun?  i  mean,  i  appreciate  the  faith  in  me.”  he  pretends  to  stretch  his  legs,  “also,  free  vacation?  you’re  not  coming  back  from  that,  bestie.  permanent  vacation.”

'if  hero  sneezed  in  my  direction,  i’d  frame  the  germs  and  hang  them  on  my  wall  like  art.'

at  the  tweet,  he  recoils  back,  holding  up  the  card  like  it’s  contaminated.  “what…  what  is  wrong  with  you!?  germs!?  framed!?”  his  eyes  widened,  and  people  behind  the  camera  laughed  at  the  horrified  expression  on  his  face.  it  takes  him  a  minute  to  calm  down,  and  he  quickly  blurts  a  joke,  “going  to  name  it  ‘the  microbial  series’.  limited  edition,  of  course.”  

he  buries  his  face  in  his  hands,  dying  of  laughter,  “i’m  actually  speechless.”

'i’d  let  hero  kick  me  down  the  stairs  if  it  meant  he’d  look  at  me  once.'

he  stands  up  dramatically  again.  “why  am  i  always  committing  crimes  in  these  tweets!?  kicking  you  down  the  stairs?  are  you  guys  okay!?”  he  pretends  to  look  guilty,  kneeling,  “i’m  sorry  for  what  i  haven’t  done.  please,  stay  away  from  stairs  if  i’m  around.”

'if  hero  ever  did  a  shirtless  photoshoot,  i’d  probably  lose  my  job  for  looking  at  it  during  work  hours,  but  it’d  be  worth  it.'

as  soon  as  he  read  the  tweet,  he  pretended  to  lift  his  hoodie,  showing  off  a  glimpse  of  his  slim  stomach  and  waist,  before  stopping  abruptly.  “nope,  not  today!”  he  lets  out  a  ‘tsk’,  playfully  shaking  his  head.  “you’re  keeping  that  job,  okay?  hustle  first,  thirst  later.”

“also,  who’s  leaking  these  imaginary  photoshoots?  i  need  answers.”  he  says  to  the  staff  behind  the  camera.

'the  way  hero  moves  his  hips  during  performances  should  be  illegal  in  at  least  twelve  countries.'

he  spins  in  his  chair  as  he  hums,  “twelve  countries!?  name  them,  i  need  to  know  where  i’m  banned–  wait,  but  can  that  happen  after  my  world  tour?  like,  this  is  my  first  one,  i  need  to  make  it  count,  if  you  know  what  i  mean.”  he  trails  off  but  quickly  snaps  back,  “but  hey,  can’t  say  i  didn’t  warn  you.  blame  the  choreography,  not  me.”

'i  want  him  to  take  that  belt  from  bless  my  heart  and  choke  me  with  it.'

“oh  woah,  woah  woah!  you’re  stepping  into  some  dangerous  territory!”  he  yelps  out,  looking  completely  baffled  at  the  tweet.  “wait,  who  is  this?  can  i  say  the  username?”  he  asks  the  staff  again,  and  with  their  confirmation,  he  reads  it.  “‘lesbian4hero’–  now  wait  a  minute…  i  remember  this  username!”  he  points  to  the  camera  like  he’s  phoenix  from  ace  attorney,  “yah! don’t  think  i  forgot  your  little  comment  on  tiktok,  and  yes,  i  do  remember  it.”

that  was  the  last  tweet  because  hero  grabbed  each  flash  card  and  threw  them  into  the  air  before  leaning  into  the  camera  with  wide  eyes  and  a  big  grin.  “you  know,  i  thought  i  was  prepared  for  chaos,  but  y’all  have  proven  me  wrong  on  every  level.  thank  you  for  breaking  me  and  making  me  question  all  my  life  choices.”

he  quickly  mutters,  “i  don’t  know  if  i  should  feel  flattered  or  file  a  restraining  order,  but  i  love  you  anyway.  keep  being  weird–  i  thrive  on  it.  but  drink  water  and  behave,  okay?”

he  flashes  one  last  cheeky  grin,  winks  at  the  camera  and  leans  back  in  his  chair  dramatically,  “buzzfeed,  thank  you  for  making  me  read  this  madness,  but  get  me  out  of  here  before  i  lose  my  own  mind.  bye,  everyone!”

the  outro  quickly  plays  a  montage  of  his  reactions,  and  then  the  screen  fades  to  black  with  the  text:  'catch  hero  on  his  upcoming  world  tour–  where  no  watermelons  will  be  harmed!'  the  sound  of  hero  still  laughing  can  be  heard  despite  the  video  almost  ending,  and  fans  are  left  desperately  refreshing  for  the  replay.

[stiltonbasket]

Hi, I love all your fics and adored the one with fem!Wei Wuxian who seems even more of a chaos goblin than her canon counterpart and tries to break apart her engagement to LWJ. Could we see some more of what of what happens after LWJ moves into the Burial Mounds, perhaps how Wen Qing realizes that this man is hopelessly in love with his oblivious fiancee and maybe tries to prod them together (bonus points for LWJ being so obvious Wen Ning, Granny and the rest of the Wens notice XD).

"They need a chaperone."

"They don't need a chaperone."

"They do," Popo insists, watching with enormous eyes as Lan Wangji glides up to Wei Wuxian and offers—for what must be the eleventh time that week—to take over her chores in the vegetable field, presumably so that Wei Wuxian can spend her time improving the wards around the Burial Mounds instead. "Oh, good heavens. I'm nearly eighty years old, and I've never seen a man looking at a maiden like that."

"Be that as it may," Wen Qing says doggedly, "they have no need of a chaperone. Wei Wuxian ended their engagement before she seceded from the Jiang clan, and neither she nor Hanguang-jun chose the betrothal to begin with."

"They don't need a chaperone because Wei-guniang doesn't know that Hanguang-jun is in love with her," Wen Ning mutters, from the grimy depths of the lotus pond at Wen Qing's right. "When Lan-zongzhu visited last week, he told me that Hanguang-jun cried like a baby after Wei-guniang refused to marry him. I think she likes him, too, but she doesn't seem affected at all."

Two tiny fingers pluck at Wen Qing's skirt, and she glances down to find Wen Yuan trying to stand on her shoes, grasping a fold of her gown in one hand and a grubby stuffed tiger in the other.

"What is it, A-Yuan?" she asks. "Are you hungry? Xian-jiejie will feed you in just a little while, so be patient until the congee finishes boiling."

"A-Yuan's not hungry," the little boy says, before putting Hu-shixiong's tail in his mouth. "But, jiejie—Lan-gege loves Xian-jie very much! Gege told A-Yuan!"

At this juncture, Wen Binbin materializes at Wen Qing's right with Uncles Three through Six trailing behind her.

"How long were they engaged, Qingqing?" she asks, in a conspiratorial whisper. "We never heard much news from the other sects in Dafan—but you and A-Ning went to school with them, so you must know something."

Wen Qing sighs.

"A-Xian's parents contracted the betrothal before they passed away," she replies, "but they didn't meet until the year Lan Wangji turned eleven."

Popo clasps her hands in delight. "Were they childhood friends, then?"

"Of a sort," Wen Qing acknowledges, frowning. "I once heard someone say that Hanguang-jun started sewing toy frogs for their future children when he was only a boy, but that can't possibly be true."

She feels another soft tug at her skirt. "Qing-jiejie, A-Yuan wants a frog."

"Hanguang-jun can make you one, Yuan'er. And the part about the frogs is true," A-Ning pipes up, tossing a seed-filled lotus pod to Wen Binbin. "She had one of them with her in the dungeon at Bu Ye Tian when I went to bring medicine to the prisoners during the indoctrination camp."

"Really?" Fourth Uncle gasps. "She carried Hanguang-jun's gifts all the way to Qishan, so that they could comfort her in her time of need?"

"Zewu-jun had better be thinking of a way to have the betrothal reinstated," Wen Qing says, crossing her arms in frustration. "Why did Wei Wuxian break it in the first place? Hanguang-jun would have honored the engagement no matter how the jianghu dared to slander her."

"I suppose that's why," Wen Ning says morosely. "She's afraid that Hanguang-jun will stand by her, no matter what she does—"

"A foolish thing to be frightened of, if you ask me," Wen Binbin mutters. "There are worse things in the world than a devoted husband."

"—and that he might suffer for it. It's difficult to tell, but she loves him just as much as he loves her."

At this, A-Yuan beams like a miniature sun and toddles over to the edge of the pond.

"Really, Ning-shushu?" he asks, enchanted. "Can Jiejie have a wedding?"

"I suppose she can, if Hanguang-jun asks for her hand in marriage again."

Fifth Uncle nods and strokes his chin. "But how can he muster up the courage to ask if Wei-guniang treats him so coldly?"

"I saw her sneaking a second helping of chicken into his porridge the other day," Liu-shu mutters. "If that is a cold woman, Langdan, then I've never met a tender-hearted one."

At this juncture, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji bow to one another and go their separate ways, having reached some kind of agreement about the wards and Wei Wuxian's daily chores. Wei Wuxian gathers up the powdered cinnabar she was sunning and retreats into the cave that serves as her workshop and bedchamber; and Lan Wangji goes off to fetch the laundry from the patch of grass by the potato field, where it had been hung up to dry early that morning.

The Wens disperse as well, not wishing to be caught gossiping in broad daylight by the very subject of their discussion. Popo takes Wen Yuan back to her little house for a bath, dragging A-Ning along with her; and Wen Qing dives into her little infirmary, leaving the door open a crack so that she can eavesdrop on the would-be couple if Lan Wangji seeks A-Xian out again.

And since Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-jun could not avoid one another if their lives depended on it, Wen Qing overhears them discussing the subject of A-Yuan's education less than a quarter-shichen later.

"After all of this is over, I suspect the Wens will be sent to the Cloud Recesses," Lan Wangji says quietly. "I do not think they would be at ease living in close proximity to Jiang-zongzhu, and Xiongzhang has set aside three living compounds for them close to his Hanshi. What is more, A-Yuan would be allowed all the privileges of an inner disciple if he were educated there—and he would not have to surrender his family name, either."

"You'd take him in as an inner disciple?" Wei Wuxian's voice is both louder and more indistinct than Hanguang-jun's, somehow, floating back to Wen Qing in bits and pieces as if it had passed through a veil of thick fog on the way. "I suppose that's for Popo and the others to decide if Zewu-jun has already made the offer, but what if the other disciples mistreat him? I won't stand for it, Lan Zhan."

"He will be my ward, since his parents have passed on: so that should be sufficient to keep him safe. And if you join the Wens in Gusu, Yuan'er will have your protection as well."

A moment's silence, and then:

"Do you mean to return to Lotus Pier when the Dafan clan is granted amnesty?" Hanguang-jun inquires, sounding positively heartbroken. "I—how will they go on without you, Wei Ying? A-Yuan scarcely leaves your side now that he is beginning to forget the horror of the camps, and Wen Ning—"

"I don't intend to go back to Yunmeng," Wei Wuxian says at length, after a pause that lasted the span of about seven perilously sluggish heartbeats. "My place is with the Wens now, I think. There should be someone at the Cloud Recesses who can guard them night and day, out of love for them and not under orders from you or Lan-zongzhu; so wherever they go, I will follow."

Though Wen Qing cannot see him, the soft, stricken pitch of Hanguang-jun's voice is proof that his heart had come very near to melting.

"En, that is good," he murmurs. "It is settled, then."

And with that, the two of them depart together, their footsteps fading away down the old dirt track that leads to Sishu's favorite apple grove.

They belong together, Wen Qing thinks fondly, before turning towards the heap of dried herbs awaiting her attention on her desk. And I pray that some day soon—Heaven willing—A-Xian will realize it, as well.

[jiinjiinjarra]

[220330 Jungkook’s Instagram Stories] - Q & A

🐰: Netflix recommendations lessgetit (1st Question)

— #1

💜: Bridgerton!!!!!😇😿

🐰: #SeenIthehe*

(T/N: *Written cutely in a teasing manner.)

— #2

💜: Why don’t you do any dramas?💜🐰

🐰: #DoYouThinkI’dActWell

— #3

💜: I really recommend ‘Our Beloved Summer’!! ☺️☺️

🐰: DoneDoneSeenIthehe*

(T/N: *Written cutely in a teasing manner.)

— #4

💜: Inventing Anna

🐰: #Check

— #5

💜: Thirty-nine 🥲

🐰: #I’mTwentySix

— #6

💜: Nevertheless

🐰: #IKnewItButNeverthlessIDidn’tWatchItIShouldWatchItNow*

(T/N: *He makes a play on words with the Korean title of the show.)

— #7

💜: I really recommend 'Alice in Borderland’!! It is so good 💜💜

🐰: #ISawIthehe*

(T/N: *Written cutely in a teasing manner.)

— #8

💜: The Uncanny Encounter 😼

🐰: #SeeeenIthehe*

(T/N: *Written cutely in a teasing manner.)

— #9

💜: Stranger🤫

🐰: #Okie

— #10

💜: Watch all the videos

🐰: #ThenWhenDoIWork

— #11

💜: The End of the F…ing World

🐰: #TheEndOfCorona

— #12

💜: jk I don’t use Netflix 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭

🐰: #It’sOkayItDoesn’tMatterEvenIfYouDon’thehe

— #13

💜: Love and leashes ? 🍿🤭

🐰: #SIhehe*

(T/N: *Short for 'seen it’ written cutely in a teasing manner.)

— #14

💜: Jungkook-ah I’m eating Kaguri* right now lol ur jealous right

🐰:  #WhereAreYou

(T/N: *A brand of instant ramen.)

— #15

💜: Spongebob

🐰: #It’sfunhaha

— #16

💜: Money Heist

🐰: #GottaRewatchhehe*

(T/N: *Written Cutely in a teasing manner.)

— #17

💜: Oppa I’m watching 'House of ARMY’ and you’re acting’s actually really great, why don’t do you come on screen more

🐰: #RightQuestionMarkDirectorsWontYouTryCastingMe

— #18

💜: Don’t look up

🐰: #IHaveSeenIt

— #19

💜: Netflix : Znation

🐰: #IGotItExclamationMark

— #20

💜: I want to kidnap Jimin, would it be all right if I kidnapped him?

🐰: #OfCourse

— #21

[ENG]

💜: The adam project

🐰: #0000KKKK

— #22

[ENG]

💜: My name

🐰: #ISJK

— #23

💜: Goblin

🐰: [video] *singing ost lyrics: It's a beautiful life … nan no ye gyot te is su ge… It's а beautiful* Ah, my throat hurts.

—

🐰: What should I do now whooo has questions (2nd question)

— #1

💜: Do you wanna try fencing too?💜

🐰 [video]: It feels like I’d be good at it, right? I’m confident.

— #2

💜: I want to know the three most recent things you’re proud of

🐰 [video]: The three latest things I’m proud of? I’m drinking lots of water, I’m keeping my voice warmed up and right now…

— #3

💜: A woodchuck would chuck wood, as much as he could, and chuck as much wood as a woodchuck could*

🐰 [video]: (JK reads out the question.)

(T/N: *OP posted a version of a Korean tongue twister.)

— #4

💜: What did u eat today

🐰 [video]: Today I had lamb steak and vegetables and white rice.

— #5

💜: Are you collecting the Pokemon bread stickers too?

🐰 [video]: I’ve never been able to buy it myself. I don’t collect it. If I get into it, I’ll probably go around the entire country.

— #6

💜: What do you want to say the most to ARMYs right now?!!

🐰 [video]: I miss you.

— #7

👤: You’re bored? Eat shit.

🐰 [video]: Isn’t that a bit too harsh? If you squish two choco pies together it would be a similar shape.

— #8

💜: I have so many questionsyoloyoloyoloyo..

🐰 [video]: Yolo yolo yolo ya, yolo yolo ya 

Squandering fun (x3)*

(T/N: *The lyrics to ‘Go Go’.)

— #9

💜: It was a cold day… And I

🐰 [video]: It was a cold day. And I… bought a hot pack. It felt good.

— #10

💜: Favourite Pokemon? It’s Togepi for me

🐰 [video]: My favourite Pokemon… was Pikachu. That guy did not want to evolve, right until the end.

— #11

💜: Who do you use the most on LoL*?

🐰 [video]: I don’t usually play a lot of LoL but I always picked Illaoi. And then I trolled.

(T/N: *League of Legends.)

— #12

💜: Can you speak Portuguese?

🐰 [video]: You asked me if I could speak Portuguese so I just opened up the translator app but the pronunciation is too hard. I’m truly sorry

— #13

💜: I’m going to the gym today to work out 🏋️

🐰 [video]: “I’m going to the gym today to work out.” This is the real stuff. I’m jealous.

— #14

💜: These days if you’re sad or going through a hard time people say 'sobsob crying noises'😭😭

🐰 [video]: (Reads the question) This moment, where I’m unable to see you… Sobsob crying noises

— #15

💜: Read? Eat? And you didn’t forget about having some drinks right? Also watching a movie..

🐰 [video]: Read books, eat, drink alcohol and also watch a movie… But you’re wrong. I don’t read books.

— #16

💜: Read a little

[Video Answer]🐰: I just said this I don’t read books. But I’ll try to read books. Microphone check*

(T/N: *'Check’ sounds like the Korean word for 'book’.)

— #17

💜: Tell us a joke

🐰 [video]: What we call 'a joke’… Where does it start and end for it to be called a joke? I’ll tell you a joke. That’s–

— #18

💜: Going to worrkkkkkkakakakaaaaaoooookikinyugookakiko

🐰 [video]: (Reads out question.)

— #19

💜: Do you like pasta?

🐰 [video]: One Vongole pasta!*

(T/N: *Reference to a famous line from the Korean drama 'Pasta’ from 2010.)

— #20

[ENG]

💜: i can't understand : (but please eat healthy. We love u!! 💜💜

🐰 [video]: Okay, thank you … don’t worry … OKAY!

— #21

[ENG]

💜: Party party eaaay

🐰 [video]: *adds music for dramatic effect* party... party...... yea......

— #22

🐰 [video]: I should stop. Sorry, but I love you.

— #23

🐰 [video]: If you thought I would stop now… then you’re hugely mistaken.

— #24

🐰 [video]: I’m joking. I felt like I didn’t say bye properly so goodbye, everyone~ Let’s meet again next time. See you next time. Bye bye!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

BTS // Social Media // Instagram // jungkook.97 // stories // 220330 // 2022

date: 2022-03-30

Cr. jungkook.97 // Source: "trust me bro" - Jungkook has deleted his account on Instagram (Archive Cr. btsbaragi_jk) // Translation Cr. bts-trans

[saltyowlet]

BG3FICFEB DAY 3: First Encounter with their Love Interest

Summary: The carrot is a metaphor, I swear

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Durge (named) 

Word count: 2251

Ao3 Link: [x]

“You know, Astarion’s an odd fellow.” Olive couldn’t help but let out a loud snort.

“Oh really, what gave you that idea?” 

The evening sun bathed a bare haze of sunlight upon the camp. Gale took a taste of the simmering stew with a wooden ladle, a moment to ponder, and added another dash of herbs. Few of their companions, Astarion, Wyll, and Laezel, decided to go into the forest to grab any prey that lurked beneath the trees. Gale argued that they didn’t need any meat in tonight’s impressively hearty meal but Laezel and Wyll did not take a no for an answer and went off, Astarion tagging along in hopes of finding his own prey. 

Olive volunteered her services but got denied thanks to the wound Olive tried so hard to hide, a gift from yesterday’s encounter with goblin explosives from the recon. Astarion barely had a chance to warn the group of the trap when Olive ran in and triggered the explosives. After a few rounds of fighting the alerted goblins, they all managed to get away significantly unscathed, well all except Olive. The trap did most of the damage, the force throwing her far off to the other side of the chasm, and the sharp rocks left a gnarly gash in her right side. Injures like these were a dime a dozen for the most part, so Olive simply added some ointment and wrapped herself with bandages. 

If it wasn’t for Astarion’s habit of constantly barging in on her tent, Olive would have been hunting with the others, but the pale elf just had to catch her right as she finished wrapping new bandages on her ribs. The indignant screech Olive let out made things worse as the whole camp ran to her tent. It took Karlach and Lae’zel to drag a kicking and screaming Olive down before Shadowheart could have a chance to cast a healing spell on Olive. The whole fiasco was enough to bench their leader from the hunting team. Now, Olive was stuck cutting vegetables. Great

Gale let out a soft chuckle. “Not my most astute observations, but I digress. Our rogue’s love for chaos seems to have brought you quite a bit of trouble. I’m curious as to how you came about him. Everyone else knows how we all met and intercepted each other at the Grove but your and Astarion’s own tale remains a mystery,” Gale said while wagging the wooden ladle towards Olive playfully.

“By all means, if you do not want to share it, I understand, but I can’t help but question the motive. I have no ill will, but mayhaps Astarion’s own morality tends to clash with yours and the overall collective camp’s, hm?” 

Olive squinted at the carrots she had been chopping. She didn’t like how uneven her cuts were compared to Gale’s precise pieces. Handling a dagger to slice up goblins, no problem, but cutting vegetables? Olive let out a sigh, abandoning the half carrot to the side.

“Well, I initially left him at the beach where I found him, but I decided to drag him with me. Still not sure if I would make the same decision if I had the chance to do it all over again,” she joked as she reached out for the onions, praying to herself that her eyes would not burn this time. Olive made quick work, tossing the pieces to Gale who threw the prepped vegetables into the simmering cauldron. He eyed the unfinished carrot but said nothing. 

“Well, I’m astonished. I thought you did not hesitate to help him the way you helped the others. What happened?” Gale asked genuinely curious. Olive paused for a moment, stabbing the knife onto the cutting board as she casually leaned on it with her hand. She gave Gale a matter of fact look.

“He pulled a knife onto my neck.” Gale had just taken another taste of the stew when Olive blatantly confessed, earning a sputter. 

“He what ?” 

“Gale, you're dripping soup on your shirt.” 

Olive tossed a clean rag at the wizard’s face with a grin. Gale quickly wiped the splatter on his shirt and turned back to Olive with a look of disbelief. Olive gave him a shrug. 

“Your lack of self preservation is most alarming, I have to say. If he put a knife on you, just how on earth did you come to the conclusion of keeping him company?” Olive let out a laugh.

“Because I headbutted him.” Gale quirked an eyebrow. Olive pulled the knife from the board and started tossing it in the air and catching the blade between her tiefling claws. 

“Astarion had me pinned on the ground. I was still tired from, you know, falling to my death. I didn't have much energy so all I could think was slamming my head on his. Worked,” Olive said with a cheeky smirk.

“Our rogue’s cocky streak was well present then, and as you know whenever that cockiness gets to an all time high,-” Olive tossed the knife a bit higher, letting it twirl in the air a few moments before her hand shot out to grab the handle into a fist. As easy as breathing. “-Astarion deserves to be pushed down a few pegs.”

Gale’s eyes had been following the knife before a realization dawned on him. “Wait, you said you left him initially? Why the change of heart?” 

Olive looked up at the horizon, the sky burning its last orange light before the coming night. The air had gotten colder, making the campfire a wonderful reprieve.

“Because I headbutted him.” Gale blinked, turning the gears of his wizard brain to best understand the cryptic words of their leader. Nope, nothing came to mind. 

“You headbutted him. That’s it? I understand you have a propensity to be a bit forgiving about our occasional misdeeds, especially from the rogue, but I can’t help but wonder if it's better to keep things reigned in.” Olive’s eye twitched at the accusation. 

“Excuse you, that’s not my job, as much as you all like to make it.” 

Gale gave Olive a doubtful look that Olive rolled her eyes back at. Olive looked down at the carrot she had left and pursed her lips. Ignoring the doubt, she grabbed the root and started chopping, steadying her hand with each push of the knife.

“When I managed to get out of his grasp, I noticed how weak he was. Maybe because of the tadpole or maybe falling from the sky. Regardless, he was desperate. Desperate enough to pull a knife on someone while coughing up blood. I wanted to leave him there, he wasn’t my problem. Just as I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel guilt.” Olive stopped chopping, eyes hardened as she contemplated her next words.

“Don’t get me wrong, I had no sympathy for Astarion,” Olive grumbled as she lifted her knife eye level, staring at the tiefling who stared back in the shiny blade. 

“So many dead people on that beach. I didn’t find any survivors until Astarion. In his own twisted way, he was reaching out for help, for anything actually. I may not remember anything from my past but I know when I see someone who has desperately clawed for their survival for way too long. Long enough that a helping hand can seem like a hurting one. I think-” Olive paused for a moment, looking at her own black eyes in the blade, watching how the dark shadows swirled in her orbs.

“I think I saw myself in him, saw someone scared underneath the bravo and bite. Had I left him, would he still be alive or would the worst happen?” Olive gave Gale a quick glance before looking back at the disappearing sun. Gale did not know what to say. 

“I did not know how much our fates would intertwine or how much we needed each other back then, but-,” Olive swung the knife on the last bit of the carrot, slicing it cleanly into two, and shoved the now even pieces into the cauldron. “-I got tired of corpses for company.”

“I hear that,” Gale said solemnly. 

Olive took a moment to contemplate and let out a long sigh. Olive never realized how much that encounter changed her. Whether they turned into mindflayers now or died trying to be cured, one thing for certain was that Astarion had made a mark in her life. Olive shook her head with a soft chuckle. 

“By the way, Gale, why did you suddenly bring him up?,”Olive asked curiously. The wizard gave her a surprised look. 

“Oh you didn't know? Astarion has been-” Olive put a finger to her mouth, and made an imperceptive motion towards their back. Gale held his breath listening. There was sudden rustling getting louder and the familiar iron smell of blood. 

In an instant, Olive grabbed the cooking knife and a bigger dagger that she had sheathed and threw them both behind her. They both heard the sound of blade hitting flesh and a loud yelp. 

“BY THE TRIAD HOLD YOUR FIRE!! IT’S US! ” 

Both of them turned to see their hunting group cautiously step out of the forest with a large collection of caught animals. Lae’zel carried multiple dead rabbits, all hanging by rope while flashing a clearly annoyed face at Olive. Wyll had a small boar in his arms, using it as a shield for the knife that was currently lodged deep in its carcass. Wyll seemed hesitant to step any further as he still held the boar up.

“Hells, this was not the welcome party I had expected. Who didn't you think we were?!” Olive put up a hand to apologize. “I heard a sound and smelled blood. Better to ask questions later than after getting mauled. Sorry.”

“Hmph, your aim has gotten better,“ Astarion mused with the click of his tongue. 

He managed to catch her dagger between his fingers at the blade and was now tossing it around, not even having to look at it as he grabbed it by the sharp end with each throw. Olive frowned as she watched Astarion strut towards her, her dagger now his plaything. The tiefling marched closer to him and reached out to grab her dagger back. 

“Speak of the devils,” Olive muttered under her breath. Astarion must have heard it as he flashed Olive a signature smile, pearly fangs and all. 

“Oh darling, were you thinking of me? How honored I am to be laced within your delicious thoughts.”

Astarion took a step back to dodge Olive’s hand, his own still twirling the dagger between his fingers. His shit eating grin plastered his face, extremely amused by Olive's attempts at retrieving her weapon. Olive’s eyebrows twitched, wanting to give no satisfaction to the rogue.

“Please, we were talking about how soft your head became from just a smack.” 

Olive jabbed Astarion by the ribs with her elbow, making him falter enough for her to catch her dagger midair. Astarion scowled, rubbing his ribs. He lowered his face closer to Olive's, baring his teeth, this time in contempt. Olive matched him as well, her eyes steely as her hand readied her dagger. The scent of aged brandy coming from his neck tickled Olive's nose. Olive’s scowl deepened, hiding any trace of how really felt about his scent. They both heard Lae’zel let out a huff and a curse.

“Do your hate mating in your own tents, away from our eyes. I rather dine on our hunted feast in peace.” Gale had to stifle a laugh while Olive’s jaw dropped. Wyll began scooting a bit further, hoping to avoid the coming incursion.

“In what kind of plane is this a mating ritual?!” She felt fingers sliding under her chin and pulling her head to look at Astarion, a smarmy grin reflecting how absolutely delighted he was. Olive ignored the little flip of her stomach made.

“Oh, I could oblige, darling. All you need to do is come to my tent~?” Olive took a moment to blink twice before she slammed her forehead on to his. Astarion let out a yelp while Olive huffed in satisfaction.

“Sorry, darling. I thought I saw a mosquito on your head.” Olive grabbed the boar from Wyll who gave Olive a look of appreciation- and maybe a tinge of fear. The tiefling brought the boar near the campfire and started skinning it as everyone else gathered by the fire to help prep the other caught prey.

Gale let out a cough. “So, about earlier. The reason I asked is because Astarion claimed that when your both had met, it was he who saved you. That you, and I quote ’fell in love with him the moment he swept your feet’ Obviously, none of us believed it so I wanted to hear your side of the story, which makes more sense, I might add.”

Olive’s head slowly turned to Gale, jaw clenched tight. 

“He WHAT ?!” Olive jumped up from kneeling over the boar and snarled at Astarion.

“YOU LYING BLOOD SUCKING ARSE ?! DID I NOT SMACK YOUR HEAD ENOUGH?!” One look at Olive’s face was enough for Astarion to quickly get up from sitting and run off. Olive tailed behind him, her now bloody dagger ready to stab the elf. 

Lae'zel watched them run off with a disapproving look.

“I truly will never understand this plane’s rituals.” Gale and Wyll nodded in agreement.

[optiwashere]

A2 Galeheart please🥰❤️

Wow, that's quite a surprising request! I've never written this ship before, so bear with me on this one lol. Thanks for asking for it, I had a lot of fun writing this one! 💜

---

A2. Cooking together (w/ Act One fun)

The freshly cleaned cooking pot hung from an iron rod over the camp's central fire. Shadowheart had pilfered it from one of the abandoned houses in the village, though she told herself it was because she was tired of raw vegetables and charred meat.

Steam drifted from the pot. A broth boiled within, filled with their supplies that were on the brink of edibility. The medley of root vegetables and fresh herbs forced Shadowheart to sit nearby and let the delicious scent wash over her.

She could pretend all she wanted to be a stoic ascetic. The first smell of that soup destroyed any willpower remaining.

The first night of real food in weeks was too good to pass up.

This was, of course, the sole reason she bothered hunting through the rotting, cobwebbed houses on the off chance that she just might discover anything that could be used for cooking.

"Ah, the aroma of a freshly started soup never ceases to amaze me," said Gale, his eyes closed. He knelt before the cooking pot with a ladle in one hand.

His focus on the soup matched his focus in all other things. The careful study in his eyes as he scanned each ingredient. Using a pinch of salt bought from the merchant in the grove, testing for flavoring as everything cooked together.

Shadowheart told herself it was in her best interest to study the habits of her companions.

In the event that she needed to extract information from them for her Dark Lady, knowing even these seemingly meaningless details could prove the difference between a successful interrogation and a failure.

So she studied him more.

Watched the way he ladled out a bowl for the first person to arrive at the fire with him.

He handed the bowl to Shadowheart.

She looked around and realized that nobody else had come to sit with him by the fire. How none of them could smell the mouthwatering food, she didn't know.

"For you," he said, "for sitting with me and assisting with the process."

"I did nothing," she scoffed. She still took the bowl. "Simply sat here and prayed."

"But that's just it, isn't it? A work of mundane magic loses its luster when there's no one to witness it."

Shadowheart snorted a brief laugh. "This soup is magic now? And you're the one creating it, that should count for something."

"It doesn't," said Gale simply. He gave her a faint, almost forlorn smile that lacked any light in his eyes. "But I never did thank you for finding the pot. A magician without his apparatuses can't exactly perform exciting magic, can he?"

"I nearly tripped over it," she lied, "so don't flatter yourself."

"Of course. I didn't realize goblins went around cleaning houses they raided."

"What?"

He chuckled, this time with real humor. "Oh, it's likely nothing. Just that you said you 'tripped over' the pot, which implies that you found it by happenstance. However, the pot you gave me was impeccably clean."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive," countered Shadowheart, looking down into the soup in her bowl. She counted carrot chunks.

"True," he admitted. "It is a curious thing though, isn't it?"

Shadowheart refused to answer him. She left with an annoying flare of recognition in her chest as she sat outside her tent by herself.

While she ate, she realized that he was absolutely, infuriatingly correct.

[vctrvn-ls]

hii i love ur writing sm 🫶🏻🫶🏻 i was just wondering if u could do dating aj headcanons

Dating AJ•|HeadCanons|

he’d be a menace to you in his YouTube videos and you’d have no choice but to send the most outrageous violations back at him making the comments like: “I give it 2 months” , “they’re gonna end eachother” , “who let them date?”.

every single one of his “shut up”s would have an “I love you” inside it

he’d keep telling everyone that “he hates it when people touch him” to which you’d always laugh because you know that at home there’s barely a second when he’s away from you.

he’d do the randomest things that even you wouldn’t understand. like imagine wearing a tight dress and showing it off to AJ, only for him to call you “Hot” but then adding a “no homo though” at the end. leaving you flabbergasted but laughing.

you’d always and I mean always fight each other for the blanket. before, during, after sleep, it don’t matter your always scrapping about it.

speaking of bed, Aj is the type of guy who’d think out loud and he would wholeheartedly trust you. Like you’d just be trying to sleep and he’d start voicing his 3am thoughts and asking weird questions and the only way you’d be able to shut him up is by flinging a pillow at his face.

also you’d fall asleep in cute positions like in each others embrace or one of you spooning the other, but during the night you’d kick and whack each other on the face because you’re both pushing one another.

whenever you reach over him to grab something he’d bite your arm.

you’d always always always want to touch his hair and most of the time he’d let you as long as you gave him head scratches later.

he’d make jokes or say something funny while you’re driving and it’d be so funny you’d have to literally slow the car down.

he’d have the dumbest puns and pick up lines and he would always use them no matter what you look like and where you are. “If you were a vegetable you’d be a cute-cumber” , “Are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten I see” , “Do you work at Starbucks? Because I love you a latte”.

your wear each others clothes and it wouldn’t even look weird because his sizes don’t even look that big on you and he likes your style so if one of your shirts looks good on him you best believe he will be taking it.

when he’s tired after a long day of shooting he’d be the absolute sweetest and he’d want to just cling onto you while you’re in bed scrolling on your phone.

he’d also have these random waves of affection where he’d like get you food, buy you something or take you out for dinner or shopping. And after a while you start to notice and you’d make fun of him for being a sweetie and being nice, to which he’d respond with “shut up”. And yes it would be that exact “shut up” that I mentioned earlier.

you’d always have play-fights where you both piss eachother off over nothing but when you actually end up in a conflict you both wouldn’t know what to do because usually it’s always jokes.

most of your fights would start because you’re both exhausted after a long day and as soon as you both go to bed he’d wiggle over to you for an apology hug and you’d fall asleep in each others arms.

sometimes AJ would get jealous of you working with other guys and just generally he’d want to be more protective, but you know him so well that you’d instantly see his jealousy and you would tease him about it until he’s done being a little green goblin because you both know that in reality you wouldn’t trade him for the world.