#aren't finished enough to share and might never be but i still get to share them!!! perfect scenario

[sleepy-little-stars]

but i don't eat green things.

synopsis: lads men with a picky eater

characters: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb

andy speaks: picky eating tendencies base on my own experiences so this is very self-indulgent (when is it not 🗿) also HIIIII icb i went back to this app after two months of radio silence RAF GOT TO ME 😞☹️ hes so gorgeous i pray i get his new myth pair in just ten pulls 🍀 gacha gods pls smile upon me 🍀🍀 (p.s maybe a little ooc for them im not too sure but!! as usual, enjoy reading !!)

XAVIER is like a vacuum. he eats everything. well, almost everything. he will eat anything edible.

oh, you don't eat your veggies? it's fine, he'll pick it out from your plate.

don't like the order you got? it's okay. he'll either switch plates with you (if you happen to be okay with his order) or he'll personally ask the chef/staff to change it to something else.

one thing he likes is when you just shove it in his mouth.

he could be minding his own business. when all of a sudden, a sudden force causes him to choke.

turns out, it was only you </3 shoving a piece of broccoli down his throat with no warning whatsover

a good partner for picky eaters! just remember to eat meat! if you're gonna feed him the food you don't like, might as well feed him the food he likes.

ZAYNE can't really talk... he can ask you to please eat your greens but that'll be hypocritical of him considering he picks out everything carrot-related.

still he knows the importance of having a balanced meal so yes, he will still ask of you to kindly eat your veggies.

if carrots are one of the things you like or tolerate, zayne is very much elated.

he'll drop the carrots into your plate like you're his pet bunny.

but if you also don't like carrots then let's just say the two of you aren't eating any dishes with carrots anytime soon.

however, i don't think he'll ask you to finish everything. he'll probably just encourage to atleast finish most of it. enough to get nutrition but not too much that you throw up.

RAFAYEL is the type to introduce you to foods that are new to your palate.

when eating out, he'll order your usual and maybe something different for him.

then he'll ask you try his food, holding out a spoon infront of you.

if you liked it, then he'll share his food with you.

if not, he'll shrug and continues eating (and chatting with you about anything, i don't think he likes eating in silence).

if you're the type of person who likes seafood but don't know/can't peel or pick them, he'll do it for you.

and if you don't like seafood? heartbreak. he'll be sad 'cause you're missing out on a paradise of flavors but he won't force you to eat it.

SYLUS knows you're a picky eater and most probably will tolerate it.

you don't want this? he'll get you something else. ask his chef to cook you something else. something that you'll enjoy eating.

is he spoiling you? yes, he is. he just wants to satisfy you, whatever it is that you want.

but if it's been days since you've had a balanced meal? he'll sit you down and feed you.

he'll pair the greens with some of your familiar dishes and give it to you in small bites.

though, most of the times, he will indulge you.

he's the type to order you nuggets and fries when out dining. (I JUST KNOW IT OKAY)

he's also the type to pay attention when you're picking.. at your food, y'know?

like you could be talking to him while scooping out the peas and pushing them to the side of your plate. and he'll be reminded of a dragon hoarding its treasure but this time, its... pushing away its treasure? can't really call it treasure, i guess.

anyways, he finds it fascinating. he finds you fascinating.

CALEB just laughs at you and for a moment, you think he'll just brush it off.

but you're wrong. because he will never forget this.

he'll ask you a few times to eat your veggies. and if you keep on refusing? caleb will have to result to other means then.

since he's the one who cooks most between you two, he'll sneak the vegetables into your dish.

but he'll do it in a way that you won't notice.

the only way you'll eat your veggies according to caleb? blend them. use the mighty food processor and immersion blender. you won't notice a thing.

do you ever find out that he sneaks vegetables into your dish? no, never. he makes sure of it.

when you're eating out, you don't have to drop anything on his plate, he'll immediately pick it out of your plate.

the type to confront the waiter/staff/cook that "uh, she didn't ask for pickles."

doesn't make you feel bad about your habits, he prefers talking about it casually.

[writer-freak]

Waking up with them | Valo x reader

Characters: Yoru, Gekko, Chamber, Phoenix, Viper and Reyna

Warnings: Gn reader, fluff, kissing, english isn't my first language

A/n: I really wanna write more this year so I'm currently working on a request rules post. Hope that I can finish it soon but I also wanna make it aesthetic so we'll see. <3

Yoru

Yoru’s usually the first one up, like 95% of the time, but getting up? that’s a whole different story. He’s not a morning person, so he tends to stay in bed for quite a while. He just loves how quiet the early morning is, just sitting there watching the sunlight illuminate the room. It’s one of the moments where he lets himself soften up a bit, just looking at you peacefully sleeping.

When it comes to waking you up, he’s not exactly the gentlest, but he’s got his own sweet way of doing it. He might brush your hair out of your face or lean in close to directly say something like, “Oi, wake up already.” in your ear.

If you’re being extra stubborn , he’ll start teasing you, tickling you or covering you collarbone and neck with kisses and hickeys until you finally groan and get up, which just makes him smirk.

On lazy mornings, he might stay in bed with you longer than usual, leaning on one elbow while he traces random patterns on your skin with his fingers or just holding you close to him.

And he espacially loves those quiet moments for a bit of light teasing with you. If you suggest staying in bed even longer, he’s secretly all for it, though he’ll pretend it’s just to humor you.

On busier days he'll make sure you're both up and ready to go on time. While Yoru’s not a morning person, so he can be a little grumpy, but he still takes charge in this situation. If you’re dragging your feet, don’t be surprised if he wraps his arms around you from behind and growls something like, “Come on, let’s go, slowpoke.”

Yoru doesn’t usually do the whole “affectionate” thing, but mornings are a bit different. He loves noticing the little details about you, like how messy your hair gets or the way you bury your face in the pillow. Every now and then, he’ll pull you into a kiss that starts out slow and lazy but quickly gets heated, it’s his way of soaking in your presence before the day kicks off.

Gekko

You’re usually the first one up since Gekko tends to sleep like a rock. He’s often sprawled out across the bed, one arm thrown over you making it harder for you to get up.

If you’re the one waking him up, it’s probably by tracing circles on his chest or sneaking soft kisses on his cheek. When he finally stirs, his first move is to pull you closer, mumbling in that half-asleep, raspy voice, “Five more minutes…”

If he’s the one waking you up (on the rare occasions), it’s really soft and playful. He’ll kiss your forehead and grin as he whispers, “Good morning, beautiful.”

On more lazy mornings, Gekko loves staying in bed with you as long as you’ll let him. His little buddies usually hop onto the bed to join in the cuddles, making it even cozier.

Breakfast tends to be slightly chaotic with everyone involved, but despite that he can never get enough of your laugh as you both try (and maybe fail) to cook together.

Even on busy days, Gekko’s mornings are a bit slow but always shows his care for you. If you aren't going out together he’ll make sure you’re all set before he heads out, giving you a long kiss and throwing in a “Don’t miss me too much.”

Physical touch is totally Gekko’s thing, so he’s always finding a way to be close, wrapping an arm around you or resting his chin on your shoulder.

On those slower mornings, he loves whispering sweet things into your ear or shares whatever random dream he had. Sometimes those moments turn into soft, passionate kisses that make it really hard to actually get out of bed.

Chamber

Chamber’s always up early. By the time you wake up, he’s either already perfectly dressed or sipping his espresso looking like straight out of a café ad. He always loves watching you wake up, you're groggy appearance making a soft smile appear on his lips.

If you’re still asleep but need to get up, he leans in to press a kiss to your temple or gently nudge your shoulder while murmuring, “Mon amour, it’s time to wake up.” On the rare occasion you’re the one waking him, you’ll catch him looking entirely relaxed, his hair a little messy, his whole vibe softer than usual.

On lazy mornings, Chamber doesn’t mind indulging. He’ll stay in bed with you, running his hands over your body or lightly tracing your lips with his thumb. And of course, breakfast is brought to you, he insists on spoiling you, no arguments allowed.

On busy mornings, he’s all about efficiency. He’s never really in a rush, but everything he does feels intentional. He’ll help you get ready, whether it’s tying your tie or brushing lint off your shirt. Before heading out, he’ll kiss your hand, a quiet little promise that he’ll be back for you.

Chamber has this way of taking care of you that feels so effortless. Whether it’s handing you your morning coffee or pulling you in for a tender kiss, it’s just second nature to him. On slower mornings, he’s completely unhurried, his touch lingers, his kisses teasing and light or deep enough to leave you completely breathless.

Phoenix

Phoenix is usually the first one up, full of energy and ready to go. But if he’s had a late night, he’ll totally sleep in and cling to you like you’re his favorite teddy bear.

If he wakes up before you, he’ll playfully shake you awake, announcing something like, “Babe, the world needs us” On the flip side, if you’re the one waking him, he’ll groggily pull you back into bed with a cheeky grin, muttering, “Just a few minutes longer.”

Lazy mornings with Phoenix are always fun. He might suggest breakfast in bed or turn on some music and tries to get you to dance with him. You’ll probably end up in his arms, laughing as he spins you around the kitchen.

On busy mornings, he’s quick but always thoughtful, making sure that both of you are ready for the day. He’ll give you a goodbye kiss with a wink and throw in a playful “Don’t forget to miss me.”

Phoenix always wants to make sure there is a smile on your face, whether it’s cracking a silly joke or surprising you with a quick kiss. On slower days, he loves nuzzling into your neck and covering you in kisses until you’re giggling. His touch is always incredibly warm, and his affection usually ends in some flirty banter that makes you unwilling to get out of bed.

Viper

Viper’s always up first, sticking to her routine. She loves the quiet silence of the early morning and usually lets you sleep a bit longer.

When she does wake you, it’s gentle, a soft touch on your shoulder and a calm, “It’s time to get up.” On the rare occasion she lets herself relax, she might lean down and press a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering just a bit longer than usual.

Lazy mornings with Viper feel special. She really treasures those rare chances to just slow down, maybe reading a book while you rest your head on her lap, or sitting with you on the balcony, quietly enjoying the morning together.

On busy mornings, her routine is very efficient, but she always makes sure you’re ready too. If you’re dragging behind, she’ll guide you with a gentle hand on your back and a firm but caring tone to keep you moving.

Viper’s way of showing affection is subtle, but it means so much. She might brush her fingers along your jaw or let her hand rest on yours during breakfast, these little gestures that speak volumes. And when her control slips on rare mornings, her kisses get deeper and more intense, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Reyna

Reyna likes to wake up on her own terms. If there’s nothing pressing, she’ll happily stay in bed with you, soaking up the warmth and comfort for as long as she can.

When she’s the one waking you, it’s with a low, “Good morning, mi amor” as her lips trail softly along your shoulder. But if you’re the one waking her, don’t expect to leave easily, she’ll pull you back into her arms with a sly smile, teasing, “Leaving already?”

Lazy mornings with Reyna are pure bliss. She loves taking it slow, having intimate conversations, and sharing lingering touches. Breakfast feels almost luxurious, with her feeding you bites of food or sipping her coffee while sitting close to you so that she can touch you.

On busy mornings, she’s more composed, moving at her own pace. But when her eyes land on you, there’s always a softness there. Before heading out, she’ll pull you in for a kiss, deep and searing, her hand gently cradling your face.

Reyna’s protective side really comes out in the early mornings through tender gestures, tucking your hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek, or whispering sweet affirmations. Her kisses effortlessly go from soft and sweet to passionate, leaving you feeling cherished and utterly adored.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[yearningaces]

Thinking and thoughts here

Could you just imagine the impossible with me? Being in a loving marriage with your beloved husband -who you believe is human because why wouldn't you? He looks and acts like every other human and monsters aren't real. And he just adored you so very much, he communicates when he doesn't understand something or when a miscommunication is had. He never fights with you but you both work together to fix any problems, and focus on showing how much you care for each other. Truthfully he's the model husband. Almost to a scripted degree, but you've never felt so adored. Especially when he mirrors your affection and never seems to expect anything explicit, nor want it either. It feels safe, and comfortable... So why do you feel the sense of dread in your gut as you're looking at him right now?

Well, it might be how he's standing in the doorway, bag of takeout in hand, smile on his face. Mirroring how he always stands. But it's a brief moment, a flash of dark lines almost like thread wrapping around his joints, moving him like a giant flesh puppet.

And just as quickly as they were seen- they're gone again. Just your loving husband, Dorrin. Standing tall and gazing down, as though the mountain was watching the river below. Absolutely enamored and unyielding to everyone except you who he'd mold himself to better love as time goes on.

At your expression, his smile fades into a look of concern. His gaze follows yours, to his hand. And the brief flash of threading is gone but he knows exactly what you've seen.

His gaze returns to you, hollow. Slowly setting down the bag he was carrying and slowly crosses the room to get to you.

He seems... Empty. As if any signals for how he should be acting have been cut off. His looming figure almost listless as he gazes down at you with a dull gaze, no life behind his eyes. After a moment, his voice finally rings out. "Has this one displeased you, little love?"

You feel an inherent wrongness about how your beloved husband is speaking presumably of himself as if he isn't even here, with a slight stumble back it answers his question well enough.

Dorrin slumps, like a wind up toy who's finished it's final dance. The voice that drifts through the air is so familiar yet leaves your brain trembling at the sheer magnitude of the being behind it even if unseen. "I apologize, this puppet has proven defective for its sole purpose. Rest assured, such an oversight will be rectified promptly. Only the best shall be allowed closest to you."

With a horrified expression you can only watch as Dorrin- what you know to be Dorrin is... Folded away. Limbs snapping together into a ball not unlike when a child is ready to toss away their doll. And it's... Not there anymore. No blink of an eye, no noise or sight, it was there and it wasn't. And now you stand in the empty living room of a home you've shared with someone you thought you knew so very well.

What do you do?

What can you do?

You can feel gazes on you still, the same when that thing would watch you while you rested together. You can try to move towards a door or even a window and find them consumed in darkness. There is no threat here, but you are not allowed to leave at the moment.

You don't know it yet, but Dorrin just wants to keep you safe in the home he's so carefully crafted for you alone. Tonight he'll leave a new puppet at your door, identical to the last hundred that had done something leading to any inconvenience on you. You've never noticed before, and he doesn't know how to condense himself into a small enough form to be loved by such a miniscule creature he's so deeply fallen for. But that puppets strings weren't good enough to remain hidden. The new one will be better.

Only the best for you.

He will ensure it.

(Basically what happens when an endless creature of Eldritch being falls for a little bitty human? Why not craft a puppet to express his love for them on a scale they can comprehend! But those fickle puppets- never perfect enough for his little love)

[sfehvn]

home

Description: Astarion left twenty years earlier, after defeating the elder brain, in search of a cure for his vampiric condition. Tav has not been coping well. A/N: A little angsty, alcohol abuse and Tav being overly-sexual in hopes of feeling some comfort in Astarion's absence; if you aren't comfortable with that you may want to skip this one! Also eludes to Tav being a sorcerer elf, but nothing is explicitly stated. Enjoy! :) Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,438 Characters: Astarion x Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  The gnawing sensation that remained deep-seated in your gut had all but dwindled. Nights filled with booze and meaningless sex did little to appease the hunger that twisted your insides viscerally. That damned vampire had only been in your life for but the slightest fraction. Somehow, he utterly rewired your brain's chemistry in such a minuscule time frame.

  “So that’s it then? You’re leaving after everything we’ve been through. Just like that?” The bitterness that dripped from every syllable was palpable as you spoke. An air of disgust and heartbreak hung between you and Astarion.

  He remained silent, the cogs of his mind turning while his face remained unreadable. “I will return for you, Tav. I swear it. I must do this alone.”

  The scene dissipates into the back of your otherwise empty mind. You had waited. Waited patiently for the return of your lover; spent years willfully ignorant to the fact that he had wholly left you. Two decades came and went before the realization sunk into the essence of your being. He was just gone. The many conquests that filled your bed were always reminiscent of him in at least one way, though you were never able to quench that desire. A white-haired man sits before you, telling fantastical stories, no doubt with the intention of bedding you. You would let him, of course. As he speaks, hands moving with a pristine emphasis of his tales, you can only discern the differences from your once-lover. His locks share the same silver hue but are much too short compared to Astarion’s. Soft tufts of curls are nowhere in sight; the stranger’s hair is pin-straight. The longer you listen to him speak, the more you coin him a prick. The ego wasn’t far from your lover’s, but it was without the redeeming charm you had grown to love.

  Despite all of this, you would still follow him to bed, or perhaps a latrine is more this man’s prerogative. Either way, you hoped you could squint your eyes just enough to forget the differences and see a glimpse of Astarion instead. 

  “Riveting as this conversation is,��� You cut the stranger off, and your hand sits on his arm seductively. “I speculate we may get on better in private. Naked.” The pungent scent of alcohol is unmistakable. If it were a decent man before you, he may have chivalrously rejected your advances for fear of taking advantage. This was no decent man, though; he proves it by taking your hand in his and standing from the bar. You had been right about the latrine. He props you against the wall in the outhouse and has his wicked way with you. Your mind is numb as he pounds mindlessly into your mound. You squeeze your eyes shut, and try as you might, your lover is not present in the moment. Instead, you feel dirty, used, and ashamed. 

  You allow the man to finish, as it only took him a measly two minutes. You had counted. You didn’t bother faking your own orgasm. This one didn’t care. You adjusted your dress until its hem fell to your ankles. “When can I see you again?” He asks. You brush past him wordlessly. His shameless contention is not lost on you as a distasteful ‘bitch’ elicits from his mouth. You pay your tab and start your trek back home. 

  “Why, though? We’re a team! I told you I’d help you find a cure, Astarion. Please don’t leave me.” Painful tears sting at your eyes, once filled with so much sunshine and radiance. There had even been a touch of naivety to you at that time in your life.

  “I don’t want you to.” Astarion was sharp, pointed with his words. “You deserve a break. Months of leading a group of brain-wormed buffoons; you need it. It won’t take me long, and I will be back. I’ll always come back for you.” He reiterates.

  The possibility of death was not unfounded. The bitter truth was brutal to swallow but did not subdue your anger. If death were his fate, you could have saved him as you had many times before. It was entirely preventable if the case; he was just too stubborn to see it. Radiance of wealth exuded from your residence; nothing but the best for the hero of Baldur’s Gate. You scoffed. How trivial these things were when you did not have a soul to share it with. Your friends had all gone their separate ways, aside from Wyll and Karlach, who had come to find a happy union together among their time spent so closely in Avernus. Gale had forged a family with a lovely lady from Rivington and now had two children barely into adulthood, himself somewhat up there in age. Lae’Zel wasn’t the best at keeping in touch, but last you had heard, she was off kicking ass like always. Surprisingly, Shadowheart visited you as regularly as she could, but that was still seldom.

  All of your old traveling companions had gone on to do great things in their own ways. You were happy for them, you really were, but it’d be a lie if you didn’t admit there was some part of you that envied them. Envied the fulfillment they found within themselves, in the love they discovered in other people. All you had to show for yourself was a house too big for you alone to maintain and, admittedly, a bit of a drinking problem. You grumble as you fight to get the key into the lock of the front door, eager to wash the escapades from earlier off your body. 

  You slink into the tub's warm water, allowing the liquid to engulf you as you stare at the wall absently. What would you be today if Astarion was at your side? It was a question you had asked yourself a million times over. Probably not the calloused person you became. Not living off of any alcohol you could get your hands on, certainly. Recalling the abandonment made a lump rise in your throat, and you quickly choked it down. No, you would not spill another tear for the man who had left. You would not.

  You couldn’t.

  You stare at the nearly empty whiskey bottle across the room, but you are sure there is at least enough for a little glass left in it. You refrain from pulling out of the tub with the sole purpose of pouring that glass and instead scrub your body clean. Relief floods over you once you’ve successfully washed off the remnants of the stranger. His seed had stuck to your stomach like a paste when he pulled out, and the way it dried and tightened over your skin had made you want to vomit. You only exit the round tub once you’ve washed your hair. With your silk robe tied loosely around your body, chest exposed, you make a beeline for the whiskey glass that had been teasing you from across the room. A sigh of contempt leaves your mouth when a single drop drips out into your glass. You recap it and debate tossing it, but decide that will be a problem for future you. You take the candle that lit the washroom and shuffle into the hall, holding it far enough in front of you to provide adequate light through the long, dark corridor. The sound of creaking floorboards halts you in your tracks. The sound did not come from beneath your feet, but instead downstairs. Your ears strain in an attempt to make out any other noises. Another creak this time closer to the bottom of your stairs. 

  You blow out the candle and a quiet incantation for darkvision leaves your lips. There was no fear, whatever sorry bastard chose your home to break into would surely change their tune once they’re at the other end of one of your spells. Suddenly more alert and prepared for whoever emerged, you felt yourself sober as the adrenaline coursed your veins. As quickly as you’re able to make out a faint silhouette bounding up the stairs, another hymn leaves your lips. 

  “Ignis.” 

  A firebolt protrudes from the palm of your outstretched hand, bounding quicker for the stranger than they can respond. A searing sounds as it bores straight through the uninvited guest’s clothing, sizzling with now charred flesh. They groan in agony, the silhouette clutching at their injured chest. “You’re quite lucky I like a good chat, or you’d be dead already. Who are you and why are you in my home?” Your voice was unwavering and void of any emotion other than conviction. 

  “Well, I’d be lying if I say I’m surprised. I do suppose I set myself up for this one, darling. Always the sharp-shooter, you are.” The man attempts a laugh, but it’s lost under the pain in his voice. That voice.

  His voice.

  Forgotten under a sea of other voices, but you place his cadence immediately. You want to run to him, feel the way his arms fit so naturally around your body, let your lips fall upon his. Your first instincts are quickly replaced with anger. Betrayal. You wanted to hurl another firebolt at him; hells, a fireball would’ve been better but you bite it back. You were angry, but becoming homeless after burning your home down was not something you were prepared to deal with. With a small flick of your wrist, you light the sconces that line the hall and you’re met with the illuminated sight of Astarion. He looks not a day older from the last time you had seen him, dare you say he looked even better.

  There’s a tinge of color to his flesh, like he’d been kissed by the morning sun many days over. There was a pink hugh to his skin, reminiscent of fresh blood pumping from a beating heart. Your own skips a beat at the picture of him before you. He was alive. Alive alive. Gone are the ruby-red eyes you had grown to love, replaced with eyes as golden as fresh honey shimmering in the light. You chew the inside of your cheek in an attempt to fight back your tears. Your face remains unchanged despite the flurry of emotions assaulting your brain and heart. “Why are you in my home?” You repeat, as if you had no recollection of the man before you. 

  Astarion’s features reflect the hurt that he feels from your reaction but quickly he masks it. “Not exactly the welcome-home I was imagining, if I’m telling the truth. This is quite the place you’ve got. I’m pleasantly shocked at how well of a job you did decorating, dear. Though I will probably have to make a few adjustments-”

  “Twenty years.” You whisper incredulously, cutting Astarion from his rambling stupor.

  “I’m sorry?” 

  “Twenty years, Astarion!” You shout. You’re no longer able to hold back the floodgates in your eyes. They prick unforgivingly, threatening to pool over onto flushed cheeks. “Twenty years you were gone! And here you are, acting like nothing happened; acting like not a day has passed since we’ve last spoke!” You wipe the tears from your face, angrily laughing that your emotions had betrayed you so. “You don’t even know who I am anymore and you think for a second I’ll allow you in a position to hurt me again?” 

  Astarion is taken aback by the furious passion that laces your every word. The wound he had been nursing with his hand is abandoned as he attempts to step closer, but you take a swift step back. “It had to be done, Tav. The journey to get where I am today was an arduous one. One that I was not willing to ask you to take with me.”

  Your jaw clenches, and there’s no time to collect yourself before you respond. “You didn’t have to ask. I told you I would have followed you through the hells if it meant being with you.” You practically spit the words. 

  “I wouldn’t allow that.”

  “Gods, Astarion! Are you so dense that you don’t see it wasn’t your decision to make regarding what is best for me?” The venom is thick in your tone. “Maybe I would be some semblance of the same person you abandoned all those years ago if I had at least gotten to say goodbye. Perhaps if you had sent a letter I’d be a little more forthcoming with you right now.” 

  “It was not my intention to abandon you.” He quips back, but sees it was the wrong thing to say as the fire burns brighter behind your eyes. “Against my better judgement I guess that is what I did. Only because I couldn’t fathom saying goodbye to you. I-” He pauses for a beat. “I thought it may make things easier on you, too.”

  The laugh that leaves your mouth was a chortle, filled with malice and sarcasm. You grasped for anyway to hurt him in the way he hurt you, “Well you ruined me, Astarion.”

  “I did not, you look-”

  “Looks are deceiving. I would figure you know that by now. For example, just by looking at me you probably can’t tell I drank my weight in whiskey today. Or yesterday. Or the day before.” You purse your lips. “You probably can’t tell that I allowed a bastard of a man to open my legs and fuck me simply because he shared your hair color just earlier in the evening. Or that a tenday ago I fucked another man who’s laugh almost made me believe you were there. Only for a moment, of course.” There was shame in your words and you wanted to cry harder as you voiced all of the ways you had failed to care for yourself. The desire to make him feel what you felt was too great. You wanted him to hate you the way you had grown to despise him.

  His arms pulled you firmly against him, his head ducking to bury his face into your wet hair. You soften under his touch, allowing yourself to go limp as he holds you. Guilt eats at Astarion’s subconscious as you cry into his shirt. It didn’t matter if you tried to push him away. It didn’t matter what you had done to cope with his absence. He was home and he was going to prove to you that he was not going anywhere ever again. Everything he had gone through in the past twenty years, he had powered through with the thought of making it home.

  You were his home.

[luveline]

kiss over the interweb with sirius! him and reader have been together for awhile maybe since they were like 18/19 and them and being still super in love foreva! cliche couple loveliness

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader, 1k

Sirius' hair looks blue-black in the light. His smile shines mega watt gorgeous and his laugh bounces between pint glasses and plates of half eaten dinner. He's at the head of a long, long table, his friends and friend's friends turned out for a celebration of him. You aren't half as loud nor confident, but when he insisted you sit squished beside him, you couldn't say no. 

"Where the hell have you been?" he questions, grabbing your waist as soon as you walk close enough. Any conversation he led swiftly pauses. "This is the worst birthday ever, babe, you keep disappearing." 

Sirius has kept you within arm's reach for the last five years and it doesn't matter, he yanks you into his lap and kisses your cheek, careful not to mess with your makeup. His hand slides down to your hand where he twists your engagement ring around your finger. You're happy to get married but you're not in any big rush. Sirius, on the other hand, is desperate to get you down the aisle. Has been for years. 

"Can't believe you're twenty four," you say, unbothered by the weight of tens of eyes on you as you take his face into your hands. You could draw him from memory. You could do it with your eyes closed. "You're finally growing into your nose." 

Sirius (who, for the record, has an extremely handsome nose), beams at you. "You love this nose." 

"I do." Sorry to his friends, but you share a gross, amazing kiss right then and there. 

"Is that legal?" James asks. 

"No." Remus clinks his drink against James'. "Will you get me another lemonade and blackcurrant, please? My legs hurt." 

Sirius laughs into your mouth as James says, "No they don't. You're just lazy today. I know the difference." 

"Will you get me one anyways? Please, James, I love you." 

"They're almost as in love as we are," Sirius says, encouraging you back gently. "And we're sick." 

You ease off of his lap and back into your seat. You've already sectioned off the lettuce and tomatoes from your salad for his perusal, and laying on a napkin by your plate is the extra fork you asked for and they forgot to give you. "Where'd you get this?" you ask. 

"That's how long you took! Finish your food, doll, before it's stone cold." 

You eat your food but he keeps distracting you. Even when he's talking to people he's squeezing your thigh under the table or bringing the salt shaker closer to you. You shove your plate away when things get too cold to soldier on, dragged into a conversation with Mary sitting to your left and her girlfriend Emmeline. 

Sirius has always had a good bunch of friends. He's never made you feel like an outsider when you're with them, and you think they might actually really like you. You'd hope it, after this long together.

"Sweetness," Sirius says, wrapping his arms over your shoulders heavily, "another drink? And dessert, too, what dessert do you want?" He kisses your cheek between questions, gets distracted, stops asking and just hugs you to his chest for a bit. 

"This is nice, huh?" you ask quietly. 

He squishes you. "I'm gonna go get you another drink and then it'll be perfect." 

You check your watch covertly, and, a master of trickery, turn into his arms to blag a kiss. The funny breathless feeling of his embrace starts to bloom in your chest, alive and well despite the thousands of days spent within it. He's your other half, your found piece, and every minute with him carries a shine that refuses to waver. Things calm down, of course, but you don't doubt for a moment that Sirius is as in sickening love with you as you are with him. The honeymoon phase has lingered like the heat of a long kiss. 

"Happy birthday," you say as you pull away. 

"Thank you. You know, I feel very lucky. I hope you know that." 

You do. And you're glad he wants to tell you but maybe not in front of so many people, which is why the restaurant staff's perfect timing saves the day. Two waitresses carry a white piece of solid plastic and atop it waits your big surprise; a birthday cake with twenty four candles, three tiers of his favorite flavours, coffee, lemon, and plain chocolate fudge. The frosting for each is real buttercream to compliment the sponge, because fondant is for losers and you know what your baby likes. The candles flicker bright as the waitresses begin to sing, and for a solid five seconds, while all his friends join in, celebrating him and him alone, he turns his head to smile at you. 

His smile quickly turns to a glare. But, ever a good sport, Sirius pushes aside your plates for the cake to be bestowed and blows out the candles soundtracked by a raucous wave of cheers. 

"Hip hip!" James shouts. 

You wince at the sheet volume of the answering hurray, but Sirius is laughing, and that's all that matters. 

"First slice for my gorgeous fiancé!" he declares. "I wouldn't be in such good spirits nor state if she weren't with me today. I love you, sweetheart." 

Your cheeks flush with pride. "I love you," you say, receiving his quick kiss eagerly. 

"Don't get spit on the cake, lovebirds! Bagsy the second slice." 

"You can't bagsy the second slice, James, it's his birthday," Mathilde laughs. 

"Look, if he wanted the second slice, he should've said. I gave him loads of time to jump in. What flavours did you get, Y/N? You know what, don't tell me. I trust your judgement." 

[nightlyrequiem]

HI HIHI i hope ur well!!! I would LOVEEE to make a very self indulgent Valeria request, so basically I am an autopsy tech and embalmer/mortician and I think it would be a cool plot like Valeria’s gf works with her and helps her out with all the bodies that she has to deal with basically. Id love for her to have a very feminine personality like a lil bimbo wife that is lowkey covered in blood 90% of the time lmao. And for the plot itself im not very creative ill sorta take anything fluff or smut mostly 😼 but its my birthday in like a week so ill leave it in your hands hehehe

HIIIIIII! I'm doing well, hope you're doing well too!! It's actually kind of funny that you request this because I have a thing in progress where Reader works in a morgue! Such a cool job btw

I enjoyed writing this, I did a little research but there might still be some inaccuracies I hope there aren't too many 🥲

Happy early birthday, too! I hope it's an amazing day <3

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Very Minor Graphic Depiction of a Corpse, Fluff, Suggestive Themes, Smut, Pre-Established Relationship

Embalming and Bows

You hum to yourself as you prepare the cavity embalming fluid. Trocars connecting to a man's hollow organs doing the work to suction out unwanted fluids. A cheery song with questionably sexual lyrics plays quietly while you work. The man on your table hasn't been handled with the usual respect you'd award corpses. You haven't even closed his eyes. He crossed Valeria. Stole drugs, or something. You aren't actually sure. Doesn't really matter. You're embalming him for her so she can display him outside as a warning. Slowing down the decomposition process long enough for the point to get across. You've done this for her a few times. Happy to support your partner's hobbies.

Your pink apron has a few stains. Blood as well as other things. Hands grip your hips, startling you into dropping the scalpel you just picked up.

"You've been down here for hours." Valeria murmurs into your ear. You smile and turn your head to look at her over your shoulder. 

"I'm working." You reply. No bite to your voice. Valeria is always welcome to come interrupt you.

"Yeah?" Valeria hums, glancing at the man. "How's that going for you?"

You pull away gently and bend down to pick up your scalpel. Intentionally giving Valeria an eyeful of your panties. A short skirt isn't ideal to work in. But you're not technically on the clock and you felt like dressing cute today. "It's going fine." You reply, looking at the corpse. "I'm almost done. Just need to finish the cavity embalming and then he's good to go."

Valeria nods approvingly. There's a gleam in her eyes as she watches you move around. You're done draining him, so you begin to pump in the embalming fluid. 

"Quite the lengthy process, you should walk me through it sometime." Valeria says.

"I'd love to." You grin, eager to share your career with her. "It's a bit of a long process, even more when you're preening them."

Valeria moves closer and presses against you. "Oh yeah?" She hums.

"You're going to get all gross." You warn. Some of those stains aren't stains yet. Valeria lowers her head and presses a small kiss against your throat.

"A little blood never hurt anyone, in fact I like it when you're covered in it." She replies, voice dropping an octave. "Tell me more about the preening, sounds sexy."

"Not at all." You shake your head, slapping her shoulder playfully. "I have to shave off the peach fuzz on their faces, wire their jaws shut, clean them, close their eyes, and sometimes do their hair and makeup."

Valeria peppers your throat in kisses.

"I'm sure the makeup bit is enjoyable for you." 

You carefully peel off you gloves and chuck them at the trashcan. Missing terribly. "hm. You should let me do your makeup sometime." You say. Valeria grabs the backs of your thighs and hoists you onto the counter. It's cold under your bare skin. She steps between your thighs and sucks a bruise into the skin of your throat.

"You can do my makeup whatever way you want when I die." She offers. She's making a joke, but you don't find it very funny.

"I don't like to think about you dying." You scold. "Nobody wants to embalm their own girlfriend."

"Have me stuffed then, my other girlfriend is a taxidermist. She'll give you a discount."

You don't find those jokes very funny either. You gently push her away and hop off the counter.

"Not funny. Just for that you're not getting any tonight." You check on the body, making sure everything is going smoothly - that there are no leaks in the tubes. It was a nightmare to clean them the last time there was. The smell lingered for a week.

"I'm kidding Mi pequeña tanatorio." Valeria says. "That skirt looks very good on you." She very tactfully changes the subject. You beam at her from over your shoulder.

"Thank you, I bought it yesterday, along with a bunch of other things." You say. Turning to face her. "I found this new, super cute store full of the most beautiful dresses I've ever seen." 

"And how much did that cost you?"

You begin to start putting your tools away. "It costed you nine hundred-fifty."

Valeria quirks a brow.

"I don't recall you asking to spend my money." She says. You blink at her innocently.

"Oh, whoops!" You grin. "I guess I'll just have to take back all those low cut, form fitting dresses... shame, they did wonders for my tits." You turn back around, filling up a tub with bleach to clean some of the incision tools.

"You don't need to do all of that, Corazón." Valeria dismisses. "You'll just have to repay me."

"Yeah?" You reply with a sultry tone. "How would you like me to repay you, hm?"

"You'll see soon."

A week passes by. Your efforts have kept the man decently fresh, but nature's will is stronger than any embalming fluid and soon the man begins to rot. You and Valeria pass under the bridge he's hanged from as you walk back to her car. You're fed, full, and content. Valeria treated you to a very nice restaurant for your birthday. Presenting you with gift after gift in a secluded corner. smiling at your girlish gasps. Valeria is of course carrying the bags and boxes they came in. You're limping slightly, your heels having chewed blisters into your heels, but you ignore the pain. Excited by the gifts and dinner, and what's going to be occurring when you get home. Dinner, gifts, and sweet sex to end your night.

Back in the bedroom, you shed your heels and sigh in relief. Freeing your feet from their pretty, arched prisons. You sit back on the bed while Valeria lights a few candles and sets your presents on the floor beside the closet. She approaches you while loosening her tie, it's enough to flood the silk of your panties. She crawls onto the bed toward you.

"Had fun?" She murmurs. Grabbing your thighs and pulling you towards her.

"I did." You reply quietly. Wrapping your arms around her shoulders.

Valeria's lips curl into a small smirk. 

"Good. Lay back."

You comply, laying back against the feathery pillows. Heat pools into your lower stomach as Valeria sits up and removes her pants, chucking them off the bed. Her belt clatters against the floor. You watch her reach into the nightstand, grabbing a harness. You snake a hand between your legs to lightly tease yourself. She straps it to her hips and moves over you, reverently running her hands over your arms.

"You're so beautiful." She whispers. Hands gravitating towards your breasts. Valeria gives them a gentle squeeze as she kisses you. One hand slowly moving down between your bodies. She grabs ahold of her silicone cock and aligns it with your entrance. Knowing you're already worked up enough to not need that much preparation. She buries her face into your neck as she slowly pushes in. Sinking herself into your wet heat. Your inner walls work to pull her in deeper, sheathing her to the hilt. 

Valeria pumps herself into you. You moan into her ear without shame as the head repeatedly bumps into that one sweet spot inside of you. Your legs lock around her hips and pull her closer. Your own hips canting up for a deeper angle. Valeria fucks you sweetly. taking her time with you. One of her hands has found its way to your clit. Fingers toying with the sensitive bundle of nerves expertly.

"I should fuck you in the morgue someday." She growls.

"That's a weird thing to want." You moan, barely getting the words out. Valeria pulls you up into her lap. Thrusting up into you, she can't feel anything but clearly, it's doing something to her anyway. Her panting breaths puff against your neck, her hands digging into your lower back.

"Why? There's something so erotic about doing you somewhere I shouldn't."

"Like when we-" You cut yourself off with a whine. "When we fucked in that bar bathroom?"

The coil in your lower abdomen grows tighter and tighter. You rut against her, chasing that release, your slick trickling down the shaft.

"Exactly like it." She replies. "Are you close?"

You nod, nosing along her neck. You can feel your mascara running. "Mhm."

"Good, that's good." Valeria coos, her strong arms keeping you close to her. Black hairs tickle your face and you reach up and lightly tug them. "I want you to come for me."

With her permission you thrust your hips down, mind clearing of everything but the big pink strap currently penetrating you. You shut your eyes and let out a guttural groan, creaming around Valeria's cock.

She pumps it into you a few more times before going still. Sweat coating her neck and back. You slump against her and she slowly lays you down. quickly detaching the harness. You relax into the soft blankets of the bed while Valeria shuffles around with her pants. The bed dips as Valeria lays beside you, lovingly touching your jaw.

"Happy birthday." She whispers, kissing your forehead. You mumble back at her. Soaking in that post-sex high. "You still need to repay me for that money you spent, though."

You furrow your brows. "What?" You mutter. Not bothering to open your eyes.

"You can't just spend that much without giving me something in return." She replies, a smile in her voice.

"I embalm people for you." You mumble defensively. "How else am I supposed to repay you?"

When Valeria doesn't reply you open your eyes. Stunned into a momentary silence. She has a small velvety box presented to you. A seven-carat diamond ring glittering in the candlelight. You shoot up, mouth agape.

"You can repay me by agreeing to be mine forever."

Your hands fly to your mouth. "You're proposing?"

Your question wins you a dry look from Valeria. Yes, she's proposing. You had always imagined this moment. You in a carefully put together outfit, perfect hair and makeup, Valeria down on one knee. It's not exactly the same as your fantasies but you're happy, nonetheless.

You smile gleefully and kiss her.

"Yes!" You say excitedly, voice bordering on a squeal. Valeria chuckles and slides the ring onto your finger. Watching you immediately start inspecting it. Turning your hand this way and that to watch the diamond sparkle. "It's gorgeous." You gush.

Valeria pulls you back down beside her. Sighing tiredly as she rests her chin on the top of your head. "I'm glad you like it, happy birthday Corazón, I love you."

[hightowerqueen]

Thursday Bangers

thank you for the tag @serensama <3 i'll tag @no1lucanispegger, @rookamell and @corvus-frugilegus if you guys want to play!

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

This week's prompt: I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice - Mercy by Shawn Mendes

i fear i may have stumbled my way into ANOTHER parallel universe for the De Rivas. Rafe belongs to @nonagesimus (hi bb, i love you) and i am extremely not normal about him or him and Bea or either of them and Illario so. here you go.

referenced m!rook/illario, rook/rook

"Just go. They'll need someone to string up over this, but it doesn't have to be you." Bea's jaw drops. There's no fucking way Rafe is saying what she thinks he's saying. "What do you mean, go? I'm the one who dragged you into this in the first place!" "Yes, Bea. But do you want to make me watch them kill you, too? Haven't you done enough?" He's mad, and of course he is, but it hurts all the same, proverbial knife slid between her ribs as easily as if it were real, sinking through the flesh like butter.

The wound stings, because this is her fault. She's the one who'd gone and played hero, dragging him behind her, only to find out they'd somehow blown a Crow operation's cover sky high.

Rafe sighs, anger replaced by something defeated in his expression. "Viago is going to come knocking soon. He won't argue if I tell him I was working alone. He'd rather that than the truth."

He's right, again. He's looking at her with those maker-forsaken beautiful eyes of his, and she hates the way it makes tears pool in hers. Hates everything about this, hates how she's fucked everything up again.

This time it can't be fixed, she's pretty sure.

"You need to go, Bea," he continues, more insistant, "He can't find you here. Let him believe the lie, please."

There'd always been a line between them, before, an electrified fence they both stayed a respectable distance away from. But that seems stupid now, because they might very well never see each other again. The thought makes her feel ill.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, she finally crosses that line. Grabs him by the cuirass, yanks him in close enough to crush him in the circle of her arms.

"I'm getting Illario. There's gotta be some strings he can pull, especially for you," she whispers into his ear.

And then she's chasing his mouth with hers, the kiss a desperate, pleading thing she hopes speaks years of ignored feelings into his mouth.

She thinks it works, because Rafe goes slack in her arms, tension bleeding out of him and kissing her back like he's clinging to her just as hard.

They should've done this earlier. So much wasted time, and now it's over before it ever really had a chance.

She can still taste him on her tongue when she leaves.

-

In the end, Illario's connections aren't necessary. Viago negotiates for Rafe to be sent on a contract with Varric Tethras, something absurd about gods the only thing Bea catches. It's not death, but it also is, a mission with a scope that's almost designed to kill him off away from her eyes. Mercy, and not. Guilt claws its' way up her throat and she retreats to the rooftops, settling there and hugging her knees to her chest.

That's where Illario finds her, and they share a bottle of red to mourn the departure of the man they both love in silence.

She wonders, briefly, what ghost is hitching a ride with Illario for him to be so understanding of the weight she's going to carry from now on.

[see-arcane]

Worst match-ups for Jonathan in the Classic Vamps Line-Up?

Oh man

Lord Ruthven of "The Vampyre"

Would definitely be thirsty to alternately drink him or torment him because the guy has a kink for making virtuous pretty young things deader, miserabler, and/or insaner than they started. But, all things considered, I think Jonathan would either side step him or relieve him of his head--the Vampyre is shown to be fairly limited in his supernatural juice, preferring to use his own knives to open throats rather than chomping. Jonathan could take him.

Clarimonde

She would be fiending for Mr. Holiest 'I would kill and die and blaspheme in every direction for my beloved' Love so fast. But, seeing as she is not Mina, no sale. Jonathan would scramble out of psychic reach the second he got airdropped a little ;) from her and feel ashamed about daring to think a stranger was pretty. No amount of loving or hedonistic pspspsps will get him back either. Sorry, Clarimonde. (Talk with Mina though, maybe if you get a permission slip you three can work something out)

The Family of the Vourdalak

Good news! No risk of romantic entanglement, also for Mina reasons! No crush on the vampire patriarch's daughter! Bad news. Jonathan's still going to Jonathan and that usually means unwittingly endearing himself to nice strangers he shares a roof with. Someone's going to get attached to him in Gorcha's house -> threat of being targeted by the Vourdalak 'turn who you love' curse. And honestly, unless he kicks into the spontaneous super speed that got his ass through the Carpathians, Jonathan might get got here. These Vourdalaks are sturdy enough to walk off heart impaling and attack en masse as a shrieking tidal wave dedicated to Not Letting You Escape. The narrator of the original short story only made it because he had a horse. If Jonathan was solo? No telling...but his odds aren't good.

Countess Dolingen and the Undead Village of "Dracula's Guest"

Proto-Jonathan made it out of their reach via Dracula saving his ass. Finished Jonathan? It depends on him being Pre or Post-October 3rd. Human Jonathan out on a little nature walk? Probably gets got. Enigmatic Cryptid Jonathan, fresh from lopping off Dracula's head? Dolingen and crew alternately A) Keep their distance of B) Toss him a gift basket (also from a distance).

Carmilla

If she's sticking to her known MO, she's likely not interested in Jonathan. But if it's down to a confrontation, my money is actually still on Jonathan, pre or post-October 3rd. Carmilla is not a fighter. She infiltrates, she drinks a victim to death or undeath, and she ditches. If he makes it to her coffin, it's over for her. (It's over for her much faster if she happened to target Mina or Lucy, but I digress)

Helen Penclosa of "The Parasite"

Somehow she keeps winding up in vampire anthologies despite being more of the 'hypnotism/possession' villain type, but if she's good enough for the anthologies, she's good enough for this list as a psychic vampire. In brief: Jonathan loses. He loses bad. If he does not have outside help or she doesn't helpfully croak out of her own poor health, we are never seeing this boy again because Penclosa is puppet mastering his romantic ass out of sight forever. No contest. RIP. (Don't worry, Mina will handle it. But still. Not Jonno solo.)

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi! Do you have any tips how to not lose interest in a story and be enough interested to start/do write if? Personally I just get hyperfixated on a story idea I have, do the brainstorming, even the planning, sometimes world building and if I get serious I make lists about almost everything but never end up writing even if I have interest still, but at most cases at the point I could start writing I just loose interest and get bored of a story when I'm done figuring out what it'll be about and maybe because I don't really like thinking about the climax or the end of the story...

Hyperfixation on Planning Story, But Can't Write It

I do have some tips on rekindling your interest in your story, which I'll link below, but first I think it's worth addressing the specific issues you mentioned: that you don't like to think about the climax or end of the story.

Have you thought at all about why you feel that way? There are a few potential reasons I can think of:

1 - Your story doesn't have a conflict, so your story doesn't have a natural climax or ending. Stories revolve around conflict, or in other words a problem that needs to be solved. This problem could be in the character's heart and mind (internal conflict), in the character's situation/life/world (external conflict), or you can have both at the same time. Many stories these days have a parallel internal and external conflict. Stories are ultimately about someone (or a bunch of someones) trying to solve a problem. In order to solve that problem, they need to reach a particular goal or accomplish a particular thing. The bulk of the story will be their struggle to reach this goal as they overcome the obstacles along the way. The climax of the story is where they face down the cause of the conflict once and for all, whether that's a villain (like an evil wizard or corrupt corporation) or a force (like illness or a natural disaster) and try to solve the problem once and for all. Everything after that is the aftermath... whether they succeeded or failed, patching up their "wounds" from the "battle" (again, it doesn't have to be actual wounds or an actual battle), and settling into the post-conflict life. That's your ending.

2 - You have a conflict, but haven't figured out how it would be resolved, so the climax and ending are fuzzy. If you have a conflict but aren't sure how it would be resolved, it might help to think of the conflict as a problem that needs to be solved. For example, in The Hunger Games, the conflict was the Hunger Games Event... the problem was that Katniss volunteered to compete which put her life at risk. So the solution to the problem was to survive the event.

3 - You know what the climax and ending are, but you are enjoying the characters and world and don't want the story to end. This is one I think many writers can relate to. It can be really hard to let go of a story when you've enjoyed writing it, have gotten attached to the characters, and feel comfortable/familiar with the world. It can also be a little scary to think about diving into a whole new story. But, we do have to learn to let go of stories when they're finished and let them come to their natural conclusion. You can always go back to the world and characters, even if just for yourself, later on. It wouldn't be weird to write "fan-fiction" of your own story, and many writers turn these kinds of stories into prequels, sequels, companion series, and companion short stories that their readers enjoy, too.

Here are some tips for getting excited about your story again if you just need your motivation rekindled:

Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! Getting Excited About Your Story Again Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Feeling Unmotivated with WIP

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking | ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[your-ne1ghbor]

Now...we can't have a anniversary if we don't have funny shenanigans going on (Featuring the Evil Royal Couple)

(Technically part 1 ig lol I did the asks first :3)

(How Agatha and Magnus met basically in a nutshell)

You thought Magnus pulled Agatha? Nah, Agatha pulled him 👹

Them Before the Incident is pretty much:

"Do you want to get into some Tomfoolery together?" as they look at each other like:

And then they got into Tomfoolery:

(ignore mag's color pallet i was messing around)

And Ofc, I cannot forget their fear of stars-

(DW Asha will get her own post lol)

Btw it does not matter if your star wont hurt a fly. Their extreme paranoia says: Star = destroyer of Worlds = will eliminate kingdom, must stop it (or panik before)

They have came a long way from...well whatever the fuck I was doing back in the begining where I was just sharing ideas and brainstorming early on-

(Their reaction to that script I never finished storyboarding)

Also I kid you not, draft (or the Magnifico you have seen from my older posts which aren't that cannon anymore possibly) MAGNUS IS LIKE A FUCKING TERRORIST-

Meanwhile, Magnus now is just: "And all I hear are screams......."

Needless to say, Terrorist Magnus would find it a massive skill issue As Magnus now would toss him off a cliff-

What is also pretty funny for comparison is that draft Magnus was pretty similar to WoaS Magnifico as Draft WoaS Magnifico was pretty close to Magnus now. How is that even possible? I will never know-

Now for Agatha, I can pretty much say not much has changed, other than depth to the character, and putting more thought into how I want to present her. However I'd say draft Agatha's design was horse crap. Its so bad like what the hell is this outfit? OUTRAGEOUS

That's why her redesign is better. She is a slaying queen ✨(in both ways of the term)

However I MIGHT have to update her outfit since I her to be able to access her potions more easily instead of it being on a belt, so Im deciding between a cape that holds her potions or another part of her dress that stores them. Im not doing it now, since I still like the outfit and I like drawing her in it, but I might have to for functionality lol.

As Magnus design...look I'm not sure how I want to design it, other than it being very similar to this concept art:

(which funny enough is my fav outfit of him lol)

Anyways uhhh yeah-

Well then lets drop some random facts about them with no context whatsoever:

Magnus still has self taught himself Magic.

Agatha has self taught herself Alchemy (which is just...imagine evil scientist in the basement conducting devilish experiments lmao).

Magnus is fairly good with swords, but excells with spears (since his staff somewhat opperates like one I'd imagine).

Agatha was a great Archer (empathize on was.)

There are reasons for why Magnus/Agatha are assigned to these weapons, since it ties into their character.

Magnus/Agatha are secret nerds.../hj

Mention History/Herbology to them, they will yap to you for hours.

Okayyyyy time to move onto the next post B)

And now take some silly angst/i think there was always something wrong with them/short king reveal

.........my shayla.....

...there is something wrong with them I tell you what-

(concept)

omg height reveal (im between 5'11 and 6'0 ft as Agatha is Basically close to Cannon Mag's height lol)

Okay I'mma go to sleep its 12:20 am bru but I'll be back 😈

OLD STAR BOY PIC WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE....but it matches my mood rn sigh

[silvery-bluish]

Tagged by @thenightdayblogger with the word GARDEN!

Rules: You get a word and share a sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word.

I'm going to tag uuuh @cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal and @euelios with CRIMES

i have so many wips going its perhaps unreasonable and i should finish something and some of these are more 'flip through and think about really hard' wips BUT.

G - Gail does not care about the casserole conversation. She spends most of the time wondering if any of her bulb-flowers survived. She has tulips, in pinks and yellows, and irises, mostly in purple and white. They might come back, if the bulbs hadn’t gotten cooked by the heat. (Original Fiction, currently placeholder titled 'you're gonna need a really big box')

A - "And you’re more efficient when you’re rested and fed real food instead of just downing another cup of coffee.” / “And a protein bar,” they clarify, instead of calling him the pot to their kettle. (FHR. Ars and Ric.)

R - Rock falls, everybody dies. But it’s not an everybody. It’s what it is. So. Fucked up arm joint. Not dead. It’s never been quite sure if it has double elbows or double wrists, on that limb. Or if there’s any real point in differentiating. (FHR. Catastrofiend.)

D - “Don’t let me keep you awake,” they say, voice hushed, and there’s a pressure on the top of his head, just solid enough to shift his hair a little. “Need your beauty rest. The fish’ll keep me company.” (FHR. Ars and Daniel.)

E - Eyes blown wide, staring at him. "How long," they say, because they need information now. "How long have they been like this?"

"Since they…" made Arsinoe drink the Void's blood, and Ortega doesn't want to just out and say that, what with Anathema freaking out literally right there, so he just gestures vaguely at their mouth. Which maybe isn't great, either, because their hand comes up to their lips, bandages to their teeth like they can still feel the Void's blood there.

"Probably made it worse the second time, then," Arsinoe says, a burst of that blunt practicality, "I don't think she liked it when I bit her." (FHR. Arsinoe & Ortega & Themmy, post-Void)

N - Not that anything about this was comfortable. They grinned to themself in their cabinet-- it probably wouldn't have said the same thing if it'd realized where Rill was physically located. But then, building-minds aren't always great at meatspace. (Original Fiction, Shell)

[defeateddetectives]

for the prompts, asw #2 for the horrible exorcists hehe

2. At my worst, I worry you’ll realize you deserve better.  At my best, I worry you won’t. (I’ve never been better.)

"it really doesn't have to be such a moral conundrum," says seiji, "if you don't make it one."

they're by the riverbank, the one shuuichi had looked out at, seen seiji silhouetted against, time and time again.

it feels strange to be beside him here somehow, a space that felt so distant and alien. more often than not, it still does.

"kindness and strength," the boy clarifies. "they are interchangeable in a manner of speaking. ultimately, that's the whole point in this line of work."

over time, shuuichi has found himself becoming less impatient and irritable in the face of seiji's soliloquies on their line of work, as he likes to call it.

shuuichi has told himself their line of work is different and will go on to be different. he doesn't have anything as heavy as the matoba name to uphold. conversely, seiji's existence likely hasn't been framed as a curse his entire life that he actively needs redemption from. 

if anything, it's interesting to learn how the mind of the heir of a clan like matoba's works. shuuichi thinks it may pay off to file away for later. he doesn't exactly know what for but there's an inkling that it just might alongside an old lesson that there's no such thing as knowledge gone to waste.

"this is why it's important to continue to take on jobs that will expand your profile," seiji carries on, "except you keep missing the meetings," and shuuichi can't be sure but he sounds a little frustrated as if talking to a student who keeps forgetting the deadline for homework.

the thing he still can't really piece together is why seiji even bothers with him half the time whether it's about directing him to new jobs or sharing facts and experiences and technique. there are so many more competent members of reputable exorcist clans he could be spending time with. shuuichi is well aware he has little to offer in their stead.

(shuuichi could assume that seiji too is filing away some knowledge for later through their interactions but he's hardly vain enough to believe he's that interesting or will ever become that important.)

in any case, these days they seem to have reached a status quo of sorts where shuuichi is content enough to take on some jobs on his own and, once in a while, team up for a more difficult one with seiji at his urging.

generally, he's content to give seiji credit for their shared work especially as seiji is often the one landing the finishing blow with his bow.

at today's exorcist gathering, however, seiji not only doesn't take the credit but goes so far as to broadcast shuuichi's skills to everyone in earshot. this leads to much chatter and positive referrals for shuuichi. 

something about the whole ordeal leaves shuuichi on edge and by the end of the meeting, he can't help contain it any longer.

"what was that about? why did you lie? you made it sound like i took on that ayakashi singlehandedly." 

"you're very welcome. your name will get some more momentum!" seiji flashes him his trademark self-satisfied smirk. "and it wasn't a lie. i just fired the final shot. you did do most of the prep and legwork."

"look," shuuichi scowls, "i don't need...whatever this is....your pity in the form of charitable advertising i guess."

seiji seems briefly puzzled at that but recovers quickly enough. "if you don't want the attention and aren't ready for bigger jobs, that's fine. i won't say anything again."

something swirls in his head, and it's a not-so-distant memory: seiji talking about kindness and strength.

shuuichi can't think too hard about it because everything feels like it's bubbling up all at once and he's aggravated beyond measure.

it's not about the attention. it's not about the jobs. it's about misplaced credit and everything he doesn't deserve but there isn't a way to say that that doesn't sound so awfully--

"i'll see you at the next gathering," seiji says on his way out, cutting into shuuichi's thoughts, as if it's a foregone conclusion. "oh and," he throws over his shoulder along with a wave, "sometimes it's fine to just take the shortcut, shuuichi-san, and not have to earn everything at the cost of immense suffering."

it freezes shuuichi in his tracks. 

he can't seem to put into words that he doesn't know how.

[gghero]

hi. this is going to sound like actually insane but i gotta say it. your hardenshipping fic from 2015 (may and the world) like permanently changed the course of my life forever and im not even kidding.

i was probably like 10 when i read it the first time (IN 2015 lol), and it was because my older sister (at the time 13) had told me about it... she was a major tumblr user and also insanely passionate hardenshipping fan, so she was a big fan of yours back then. she showed me how to use ao3, then tumblr, and i've had an account (not the same one always, but an account) since.

without your writing, without knowing of online queer spaces and art in general, it would've probably taken me much much longer to ever come to the conclusion i was trans.

i would've probably still perpetually felt like the weird little girl sitting in the corner of the 5th grade computer lab class reading fanfiction about queer love and yearning to have that. to be that.

now, i get to say i look back on those memories fondly. i don't feel like the weird friendless little girl anymore. she is always in my heart, but she'd probably ask me some stupid shit like "why aren't you taller?" and then say something more profound like "i'm glad you get to be a boy"

she'd probably then proceed to ask another stupid ass question. "have you found your maxie yet 🙏"

and then i'd cry laughing i think. i'd cry laughing and tell her that there are many things i have, many many things, and there are many more things we both should look forward to, together.

i hope you know how impactful your writing has been on my life. i hope you realize how much it touched my heart when i was an autistic little girl who was outcast by almost everyone for behaving differently than them.

and i hope you realize i'm crying right now as i write this ask and reminisce on the art you so wonderfully created. it might not mean much coming from just one person, but your work truly did change my life.

so thank you. thank you for creating, and being brave enough to put your creations out there. you have touched the lives of more people than you would've ever thought.

Hi! Oh my goodness I feel like I should apologize for taking so long to reply to this. It's been sitting in my inbox for a while now because I was just struggling to come up with the right words to say. And I mean... where could I even begin when this message is so heartfelt and profound and just, reading it over and over and processing like the actual meaning of the words on my screen has given me so much to think about? just the idea that my lil fanfiction that I started ages ago, when I wasnt even in college yet and it felt like my grasp on the English language and my own writing skills were being put to the test every time posted a new chapter, the idea that this impacted someone to this extent leaves me speechless. Like thats just incredible to me and to feel like I actually contributed to something like this is beyond my wildest dreams. It really does make it feel like what I was doing (and still do) is worth it if it helped even only one person find themselves.

I'm so sorry I never finished the story properly. I had (and still have!) so many ideas of plot events and character development arcs I wanted to do, and I still think about these characters fondly. There's absolutely stuff that I would do differently looking back on things, but there's also so much I still feel so happy I was able to share with the world. I can't promise I will complete the story in the ways I just described as it's a far more ambitious task than I have time and energy for these days, but your message might just make me take the plunge and do a little something to tie it all up.

Again, thank you so much for taking the time to reach out and share with me. I'll carry this message with me forever to remind myself of what really matters the most when creating <3

[quinndominion]

Still bad at tumblr...buried new pics behind 'read more' cut in a reblog...defeats the point of pictures!

Peni said:

(P.S., I'm pretty sure that's Mary, voted "Girl Most Likely to Pull a Cart" four years in a row in high school.)

Mary. Of course, it's Mary!

But you get all the cookies, or virtual sweets of your choosing, for making me delirious-laugh at that line. I've gotten plenty of sleep since and it still cracks me up. Maybe because she is high school age here. And with only two classmates she'd also be voting that for herself for it to stick, lol.

Doesn't surprise me that most sim stories aren't finished. When Life happens, and it will, this time-consuming hobby with no visible objective value will be one of the first things to go. It brings in no money(unless maybe you've got a decent Youtube following). And the emotional satisfaction of writing a story and of having someone read said story are, as you allude to, rather different things.

I spent a dozen years (more if you count TS1) telling myself stories with this game, with no interest or intention of sharing them. I loved that way of playing the game and at a story level there's no real qualitative difference as I am, basically, the same sims player and the same storyteller. I couldn't create my own poses then (a skill that's become both the best and the worst thing to happen to me as a simmer!) but I still made liberal use of poseboxes just as soon as they came on the scene, for pictures no one but me was ever going to see. And still it's such a different endeavour putting these things together for an audience, real or imagined.

But anyway, my point was that I'm not so sure it was always the case that most sim stores weren't finished. Maybe. I never read Exchange stories when the Exchange was around but I feel like a lot of the ones I read archived on that clockwatching site were completed. (Hope that site's still up. Been a few years since I checked...) And yeah, I guess, most of the old stories on LJ weren't really completed but a lot of them went on for years and years - with dozens or maybe even over a hundred chapters - so it didn't really feel like an abrupt, 'wait, wha' happened?' when reading them. And I think that's a function of community and engagement, which is ironic since sooo much more of the community is here on simblr, but it's not really designed for more than ephemeral engagement.

I was lucky in that even though I didn't finally join LJ until it was dying, there were still enough active simmers there that finding friends was way easier than 'accumulating' followers. (Find folks writing stories you like. Tell them why you like it. Easy peasy. Not so with tumblr which also operates on a kind of 'clout' since it's a kind of social media.) I've noticed the new Communities thing that's been rolled out (new to me) and even on those devoted to storytelling I still don't see much traction getting people to respond to words with words, which I suspect is the currency most writers most want.

Oh well, I'm just an old-head, ranting at time itself, wishing forums were a thing again.

End ramble. (But it's just wild to remember a world where a perfectly ordinary - but funny - sim story post might have 10 or 20 or 30 actual comments and responses whereas now getting 10 whole likes on a non-cc post means you're winning at simblr, lol.)

[benispunk]

The Concert

Iron dad and Spiderson

I've paid my dues Time after time

Tony mumbled the lyrics of the song playing while still focusing on his new project. Peter, sitting not so far away from Tony, lifted his head from his very much boring school paper he had to finish and smiled brigthly.

"That's one of my favorite !"

It was Tony's turn to move his head up and look at Peter.

"It's one of the best, but not my favorite though." he answered, returning back to his work.

I've done my sentence But committed no crime

"I didn't know you liked Queen."

"Why would I not?"

"I don't know. I just never heard it playing in your lab. I love it though." Peter's knee bopped on sync with the beat of the song.

Tony stopped for a second.

And bad mistakes I've made a few

"Are you sure I've never mentioned I like Queen?" Tony asked. Peter shrugged, tapping his pen on the desk.

"I mean, everybody does. But it just never occurred to me that you do too. You like your hard rock and metal better." Tony chuckled.

It's true that there wasn't enough Queen songs playing in his lab.

"Queen does a good job at that too. You should have seen them live, my god what an experience it was."

I've had my share of sand Kicked in my face

Peter whipped his head up so fast he thought he might have broken his neck.

"What did you just say?"

Homework now forgotten, his focus was on Tony and Tony only.

But I've come through

"Wait- the best part is coming, shut up."

As Tony started singing full heartedly the chorus Peter replayed his previous comment in his head.

You should have seen them live, my god what an experience it was

What does that mean.

"What does it mean?" Peter asked, still not quite sure he actually understood what his mentor said. He couldn’t possibly...

"That they're the champions it's kinda obvious Peter."

"NO. What do you mean when you say that I should have seen them live?!" Peter all but screamed. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

That seems to get Tony's attention as he put down his tools - previously used as a microphone for his magnificent performance of the song.

"Peter, are you okay?" he asked and Peter's frustration only grew bigger.

"Do you mean to tell me you went to a Queen concert ?" he finally asked. Tony raised one eyebrow, confused.

"Uh- yeah?"

Peter's jaw fell open.

"WHAT."

Tony stared at a visibly shocked Peter Parker. "What?"

"WHAT?!" Peter repeated.

"FRI, is the kid okay there?" Tony asked, keeping an eye on Peter while checking his vitals on the screen next to him.

"Peter is fine, he seems to be experiencing shock after hearing about your experience at a Queen's concert." the AI answered as Tony huffed a laugh.

"Oh okay. Well, yeah I was 14 and on a trip to Paris with my mother. They were there too so we went to the concert and-"

Peter interrupted him, "Do not tell me you met them."

A silence fell in the room as Peter waited for a reply. He watched Tony who stood still.

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Well you just told me not to."

That made Peter lose it completely.

"Oh my- don't- is that real? Are you lying to me?"

"I didn't say anything." Tony put his hands up in the air, showing his innocence.

"Did you?"

"Say anything?"

"NO! Did you meet them?" Peter asked again.

"Yes." he answered bluntly.

Peter blinked. One. Two. Three times.

"And you were 14." Tony nodded.

"And on a random trip to Paris." the man added. At some point, Peter was completely disconnected from reality.

How was this supposed to be real? You think you know somebody and then, yeah I went to a Queen concert when I was on a trip to Paris and I actually met them.

What the hell. How the hell. Why the hell.

Tony, who still hadn't move from his position over on his stool, snapped his fingers a few times to wake Peter up from his "daydream" or whatever happened to him.

"Were you ever going to mention this?" Peter blurted out once he was back in this very, very, weird reality. Tony smiled, no- he smirked that bastard.

"If i started telling you all the things that I did and the people that i've met, we would never be done Peter."

This only made Peter groaned in frustration.

"There's worse ?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

"I have George Lucas' phone number."

Nevermind. Whatever answer he thought he would get could have never been worse.

"FRIDAY I broke him, didn't I?" Tony asked his AI as he looked at the very much not-functioning Peter in front of him.

"It appears so."

'Cause we are the champions of the World

a/n: THANK YOU FOR READING!! This is such a messy story. Also I cannot imagine Tony Stark not listening to Queen- like...impossible. Big Queen Fan here. Also this is a reference to a post I made a few weeks (months?) back saying that I can't believe there are people in this world who went to a Queen concert. Peter's reaction is definitely inspired by how I would react- and it's not over dramatic, it's accurate. Can we say under dramatic? Because that's what it is. Anyway, thank you for the support on my last post, it means a lot. You guys gave me the energy to come back to writing. Don't hesitate to send requests, I could try doing some stuff!!! XX

[icantthinkyandere]

Hello! I hope that you have are having an awesome day! Can i request yandere gudao, Gudako and Mash x Servant!Reader (Who is kinda like Zhongli from genshin impact in where each ascension reveals their divine nature and also the reader shares similar power sets. Not only that the reader has been with them since the beggining acting not just as a loyal servant but also a mentor and a support figure for them)

This is going to lean more into them being platonic and less romantic, I hope that's okay!

I kinda wish I could say that my time has been awesome, but after I finished my summer semester, my zombie air-conditioner told me to die on the hottest days of August. It's better now, though!

{Gudao, Gudako, and Mashu}

Fuyuki was a very stressful and hard time for all of them. There's a good bit of time between Fuyuki and Orleans because there's a lot of readjusting that has to be done now that there are only two mages, they're not even good ones, and Olga has passed. They are all very stressed and very depressed.

Lucky one of the servants that Chaldea happened to summon a servant who more than capable of being their to support them in their time of need!

Their first [five star] high ranking support Caster! However, Da Vinci and Romani aren't sure if it's actually the person they were trying to summon. They're dressed in nice enough clothes, very polite, and overall just shockingly normal. They know servants will be different depending on the class as well as the point in time they're taken from. But with all of Da Vinci's research, she's never heard of them acting like this.

Despite their unexpected personality and being new to Chaldea, they are quick to start their mentor roles with both their new masters and Mashu.

Starting when they lend an ear to listen to Gudao and Gudako's troubles. They are nervous to express how overwhelmed you are with being the only two masters left out of dozens of them. Plus, being traumatized by the sudden explosion, the bodies, thinking both they and Mashu would also die alongside them.

But they are nothing but kind and supportive. They don't sugar-coat it and lie to them, the up coming journey will be hard. They will be with them every step of the way and help them to become better mages. Gudao and Gudako couldn't be more relieved to finally have that off their chest.

Gudao and Gudako know that everyone is doing their best to get the current situation at least passable so they can do the Singularities and not let everyone die. But wow. Did it feel good for someone, anyone, to just sit down with them and be there for them.

Mashu is sort of in a similar place. Now, being a Shielder class, she isn't too sure how to be one due to the lack of information they have on them. They may not be a Shielder, but the new servant is a defense support servant. They can't help her in the 100% way she needs. They can still help her train and improve her skills.

She just jumps into training. Mashu just wants to be a good servant and protect her senpais and Chaldea. Which was a mistake. Her new teacher can immediately tell something is wrong and makes her stop. She can't be a good protector or have her training go anywhere with how she's feeling.

They sit her down with some tea and, like with the Gudas, talk about what's wrong. It's not just to optimize a training schedule, but because they care about master and don't want to see her in emotional pain. It goes similar to Gudas, if not more hesitate than them, having a different background. They're so patient with her and allow her to take her time, saying that she doesn't even have to admit her feelings fully or even say them at all. They just want her to know they are here for her.

It does make her emotional. So many heavy unexpected things have happened, and she might not express her feelings now or possibly later, but the feelings of support mean a lot to her.

As their time with Chaldea continues, they become more comfortable, they choose to acsend into their second ascension and stay in it. It's a lot more what was expected when they were first summoned. There is much more proper and traditional type of outfit. It's flowly and shows off the black and yellow patterns they hide under their sleeves.

With more and more servants that join Chaldea, they thought the masters and Mashu would branch off into hanging out with other servants. Especially the more lively ones, reading, drinking tea and training can only be so fun. But, they don't. Even Mashu, who use to be curious about their backgrounds. The only time they actually do is when suggested to. Gudas and Mashu seem to have fun, but they feel like it's only to make them happy...

The three of them like the other servants, and like Da Vinci and Romani. But like the servants' skills, they are a pillar that has kept them from Fuyuki to Camelot. They really don't know what this journey would have been like without them in it.

Their journey together seems to be ending very soon, and the three could not be more worried about. They should be happy that Chaldea is almost done and the world will he save. But they don't wanna let go. They don't want this consent in their life to leave them, and they want to see them go. At least the Lostbelts will happen!