#i'd rather just bLAST OUT THE WHOLE THING

[jasonsbruce]

I'M SO CLOSE I'M SO CLOSE I'M SO CLOSE

[criscura]

I want to get to the good part of this blastvoid thing I'm writing but i do NOT want to write the part before it and I'm procrastinating so fucking hard

Like i know what i want and it'll be satisfying but it's like the reverse of eating beef jerky, where this is the tough gross part you just need to swallow before getting to the fucking SPPIUCCE

[pa-pa-plasma]

super funny how you can beg & beg & beg & beg & plead & beg with a doctor for help with a debilitating illness & they're like "here's a prescription for a cream that will help" & you go to the pharmacy to get it & they're like "ooh sorry, this one costs $500. but the brand name version is $600 so really it's a deal!" & so you have to pay for it with the $501 in your bank account & then you get home & put it on & the next day your skin is on fire despite washing the cream off asap & you go back to the doctor & they're like. "huh. weird. idk then man maybe go see a specialist?" & send you on your way & you go home with this stupid worse than useless $500 cream & a few months later you finally get to go see the specialist & they glance at you & say "idk man maybe just stop being dramatic?? lol" & so you go home (again) after being berated & you're sitting there & go fuck it & look it up & you see some random guy like "oh yeah witch hazel works" & so you put witch hazel on & within ten minutes it does, in fact, work. *through gritted teeth* doctors are so fun

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Rollo Flamme - Student Council President Robes Vignette

"...How carefree."

[Noble Bell College – Bell Tower Interior]

Rollo: Sigh… There is a slight chill. In addition, the sun is rising later as each day passes.

Rollo: Heh… This is a wonderful season. The time I must spend exchanging idle prattle with my idiotic classmates grows shorter.

Rollo: Now, before everyone awakens, I will do what I can to fulfill my duties.

Rollo: …And it would be a nuisance if I were to be spotted by those irritating bunch, as well.

[Noble Bell College – Bell Tower Upstairs]

[gargoyles clanking around]

Rollo: AUGH, SILENCE! You blasted gargoyles.

Rollo: All your merry romping is completely undignified. Can you not settle down for even a single moment?

[gargoyles happily clanking around]

Rollo: Ugh, yes, I will be sure to tend to you all next weekend. After all, I cannot tolerate abandoning a task that I have taken on.

Rollo: If you understand, then leave me be. I have more important matters to attend to.

[gargoyles clank away]

Rollo: …Finally, they've left. Good grief, they are indeed a troublesome group.

Rollo: It is repulsive enough that they operate on magic, but they are much worse in conjunction with all that atrocious noise...

Rollo: If their whole purpose of existence were not to protect the bell tower, I would have long ignored those hunks of stone.

Rollo: …Would you not agree, dear Bell of Salvation?

Rollo: Heheh. You are as beautiful as ever today.

Rollo: How wonderful it would be if everyone were just like you.

Rollo: You ring when you should ring and are silent when you should be silent. Nothing could be more appropriate and certain.

Rollo: …Ah. The sun will rise soon.

Rollo: I should finish cleaning before the bell ringers arrive.

Rollo: Please bestow upon us your beautiful resounding tones again today, dear Bell of Salvation.

[Noble Bell College – Courtyard]

Rollo: It's finally time for lunch.

Rollo: This should be a good distance away so I would not have to suffer the prattling of those unpleasant mages. I shall rest here…

???: Oh, President, here you are!

Rollo: Hm?

Vice President: I was searching for you, Rollo-kaichō. Why are you eating your lunch all the way out here?

Rollo: Oh, it's you…

Vice President: I see you're having bread for lunch. I never see you in the cafeteria, so I had no idea.

Rollo: That's right.

Rollo: 2 croissants and 16 singular grapes, as well as one cup of café au lait.

Rollo: That's all. That is my lunch every single day, 365 days a year.

Vice President: Eh, every day? YOU HAVE THE SAME THING FOR LUNCH EVERY DAY!?

Rollo: With a strict routine, I am able to forgo any unnecessary desires. It is rather refreshing. I wholeheartedly recommend you try it as well.

Vice President: I-I don't think I could do it. I'd probably get tired of the same stuff quickly.

Rollo: …How unfortunate that you are not a kindred spirit. More importantly, you had some business of me?

Vice President: Ah, right. Your professor was searching for you just a moment ago.

Vice President: It sounds like they wanted your permission to publish in a newspaper the essay you wrote on your impressions of that one book.

Rollo: A newspaper? …You wouldn't happen to be referring to the "Shaftlands News," that I read for my morning paper, would you?

Vice President: That's right. It's absolutely amazing that you'll be featured in such a big newspaper! That's Rollo-kaichō for you!

Vice President: I also heard that you were the only one who received a perfect score on the Potionology test in today's class.

Rollo: Hmph. It's nothing of import.

Vice President: No need to be so humble! Why, just the other day, you even brought to bloom a water blossom that is said to be very difficult to cultivate. The professors were very impressed.

Vice President: I truly hold you in high regard. There is no other mage at this school that has as much exceptional expertise as you!

Rollo: Is that so? …How ironic.

Vice President: Is something the matter?

Rollo: Nothing of concern. Rather, thank you for your message. Sorry to have caused you trouble.

Vice President: Not at all! But since I'm here, could I take lunch with you?

Rollo: …Well, I am just about done eating. I will be heading right to the professor's office now.

Rollo: Forgive me, but I must head out. We can partake in lunch together some other time.

Vice President: Alright. Then, we'll do it some other time!

[Noble Bell College – Lecture Hall]

Rollo: …How carefree. Why would he speak to me so familiarly, when he cannot even understand my thoughts…?

Rollo: Ah, but there is no time to dwell on that. I must head towards the staff room.

[City of Flowers]

[enters store]

Rollo: Hello.

Rollo: …Yes, that's correct. I would like to order the usual letterhead and envelope. Yes, one of the white ones.

Rollo: …Heh, I agree. Even if it may be considered an anachronism, I believe letters are wonderful tools.

Rollo: It may not be as convenient as sending an e-mail or making a phone call, but with more care and thought placed into each word, one can avoid any careless language.

Rollo: Hm? There is a cheaper stationary set similar to this one, from a different maker? …No, I am perfectly content with my usual fare.

Rollo: I could not bring myself to change the physical appearance of the letter after writing them for so long. I prefer to keep my things consistent and orderly, after all.

Rollo: …Yes, indeed. Thank you for everything, as always. Goodbye.

[leaves store]

Rollo: …A superb shopkeeper. As one would expect from a resident of the city that the Righteous Judge loved so.

Rollo: As a student of Noble Bell College, I must strive to be just as noble.

Rollo: …This city is a pleasant place to reside. The people are amiable, and the scenery is fantastic.

Rollo: However, all these beautiful flowers were originally cultivated with magic…

Rollo: Flowers… Magic…

Rollo: Mheh… Hehehe… Hehehehe…

Goat: Baa, baa.

Rollo: Hm, a goat, is it? What do you hope to gain from nestling up against me?

Rollo: Perhaps you are hungry. Unfortunately, I don't have anything that you could eat.

Rollo: If you are hoping for me to feed you, you would be better off finding someone else…

Goat: Baaa～

Rollo: What? …Are you attempting to snatch my stationary!?

Rollo: How vile… No, you cannot have it. I am very partial to this specific stationary.

Rollo: Moreover, eating paper will cause you digestive issues. I shan't think any less of you. You should give u… Hey, let go this instance!

Goat: Baaa～～

Rollo: You wretched goat! If you do not release my papers, I will have to just…!

Rollo: Ah. No, there are too many people who may see…

Rollo: If you weren't a creature cherished by this city, I wouldn't hesitate to send you flying.

Rollo: Consider this a narrow escape.

Goat: BAAA!

Rollo: Don't you dare gnaw on my robe! I may find the City of Flowers to be spectacular in and of itself, however I cannot approve of these unsanitary conditions.

[Noble Bell College – Student Board Room]

Rollo: "In conclusion, I am doing as well as ever. My best wishes to you both, as well." …

Rollo: …Perhaps that is a tad too formal.

Rollo: No matter. It is enough for my parents to hear that I am doing well here.

Rollo: They have always been worrisome…

Rollo: Much too worrisome… Ever since…

Rollo: …

Rollo: The fire…

Rollo: …

Rollo: …Well. I suppose I could provide additional updates in the letter.

Rollo: I'm certain I will be unable to fall asleep sufficiently tonight, at any rate. I'll continue revising it as much as possible.

Rollo: I have nothing but time, after all…

Requested by @raven-at-the-writing-desk.

[gofancyninjaworld]

Blast is more of a Goku expy than a Superman one

Initially posted on r/onepunchmanfans

All credit for this observation goes to u/Nanayon123. I'm merely gibbering incoherently at the implications.

The man, the myth...

He is styled like a knock-off Superman, and he does seem to be this iconic hero about whom many wild tales exist. And the reality is even wilder as he leads a larger-than-life quest to curb a veritable god's activities, but Blast has been a rather weird character. Seemingly a hero but does unheroic things. Warm and personable, yet oddly cold. Great deeds but leaves many of them half-finished. A family man but also an absent dad. Married yet oddly fixated on his partner, a known evildoer. A hero for a 'hobby' like Saitama, but whereas Saitama tends to leave people better off, Blast seems to leave them worse.

Seems to sum up Blast's deeds handily.

More gibbering below the cut.

...the curse

With that one observation, all the oddities about Blast add up to a coherent whole. When he says that he likes strong people (the Spanish translation, in using 'gustan,' makes it even stronger than mere liking), that's fundamentally what he's after. He likes strong people, he's physically and psychologically attracted to strong people, and if they happen to be helpful to him in his quest to thwart 'God', so much the better. Regardless of who or what they actually are. The fact that he was aware He had a strong partner to quest with and a strong woman with whom to also have happy-fun times and play happy families with. The fact that they were conspiring against him bothered him not a whit. That *is* very Goku-like. If Goku happens to help you in the course of looking to fight the strongest warriors, good for you.

So who's the sociopath here?

Sure, we can understand that Blast needs to surround himself with strong individuals to counter God. I'd theorised before that Blast was more of a warrior than a hero, but he makes it clear in chapter 211 that his mentality towards strong and weak goes much deeper than that. For strong people, he's prepared to do anything. Risking his life for the possibility of saving Void, not a problem. But lifting so much as a finger to try to save Genos, who risked his life to buy Blast an opening to tackle Cosmic Garou, sorry, no can do. Blast has no concern for such a weak individual. [1]

To he who has much, more must be given. To he who has little, well, no fucks need be given.

If you ask Blast why he's so fixated on Void, he'd have said something about Void having a unique ability. I understand why ONE removed that reason being given a priori: it'd have muddied the waters and made it harder for us to see his true intentions.

Additionally, I understand why ONE redacted Flashy Flash discovering that it had been Blast who had destroyed the Ninja Village -- at least for now. It really doesn't matter *when* Blast found out about Void's activities as a ninja, buying children to abuse into losing all sense of themselves, then sending them out to be assassins for hire; he'd have had no concern for those children or the assassins they'd become as they're weak. Only avatars of 'God' bothered him. The only concern he'd have had would be retrieving the cube at some point. That's it.

This entire explanation is no longer necessary: the ones too weak to be avatars are beneath Void's and Blast's concerns. And what harm they did is only mildly regrettable to Blast, which he made clear.

Instead, we get to see what Blast actually thought of the Ninja Village. It was regrettable, more of an inconvenience than a tragedy.

Oh well... I suppose some people died.

I wouldn't be shocked (just dismayed) if it turned out that Tatsumaki was the only person he cared to save from the facility, leaving other prisoners to be killed by the escaped monster or otherwise face an uncertain future. He's only interested in the strong. In a real sense, he's a lot more like Void than he'd be comfortable admitting. At his very best, Blast is an ancient-style 'hero' where the word means only a strong guy who does incredible deeds of great daring but is otherwise not especially moral. At his worst, well, you'd best be afraid of what lies behind those weird eyes and deceptively open expression.

adorable and yet...

The Opponent

To say that this is anathema to Saitama is an understatement. Saitama may be the strongest man -- far stronger than Blast can imagine -- but he has never forgotten where he started from. Because of his own humble beginnings, Saitama is adamant that you cannot judge a person's potential by their current position.

This guy is the anti-Blast: instead of deciding who is a winner and a loser, why not encourage people to fulfil their potentials? You never know what people might be capable of.

He has never disparaged anyone's efforts for being meagre -- if they did all they could, he recognises the courage it took to do that.

Saitama in a nutshell.

Never mind encouraging heroes: no matter who you are, Saitama is always willing to reach a hand out to you, if you will take it.

He needed that suit to not look a total fool, but Saitama didn't hesistate in the face of a child's needs.

Saitama has never overlooked injustice being done in the interests of self-satisfaction. If he's sometimes been less harsh with evildoers than he otherwise might be, it's because he recognises that people deserve the chance to do better if they've done wrong. He'll happily beat the ever-living shit out of you and break all your toys, but he takes care never to be the writing on your wall.

Go forth and find out how to be the better person you yearn to become.

If someone really wants to die, Saitama won't stop them, but otherwise, he's the guy saying to people that no matter where you are now, you *could* be better if you took the courage to try. So try.

You didn't jump; you fell. Can't have that. Saitama balances his belief in a person's right to self-determination with concern about their welfare.

I don't know how it will come about, but there's a conflict coming between Saitama and Blast, and it can't come soon enough for me. Blast is such an important character in OPM. He's literally the foundational member of the Hero Association, being the prototype for what a supported hero could be. He's got an incredibly important mission as well. And yet… yet… that guy has no business calling himself a hero as he is.

Someone has to talk sense to Blast about what the word 'hero' really means and who better than Saitama?

True, things are pretty cordial between them now but with worldviews so different, they can't stay that way. I'm here for it.

Footnotes

[1] True, it didn't happen in the current timeline, but that's only because Saitama cold-cocked Garou before it could. We've been shown Blast's character.

[eat-limes-bitches]

Nowhere else I'd Rather Be

PAIRING: Female Reader x Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: Soft blues and sunsets make for the perfect wedding.

SONGS: Entrance (0:42 if you want the specific time), Y/n's vows, Bucky's vows

WARNINGS: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

Word Count:

A/N: So here it is! The last installment of this, mini-series I guess! I had such a blast writing this and between you and me, I had fully intended on waiting to post this until I was back from my horse show next week, but I couldn't wait. No way in hell, so I hope you enjoy it! If you have any ideas for future writings, my ask box is looking a little empty and sad! Send some ideas my way!

Italics are memories, bold italics are song lyrics

Part 1 | Part 2

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

(3 YEARS LATER)

To say he was nervous would be an understatement. Bucky frantically fiddled with his tie, looking at the color, which caused him to smile for a moment. It was blue, but not bright, soft. Like worn denim. The same blue that matched the upholstery on the deep oak chairs that lined the dried flower petal pathway to where he was standing. The soft fall breeze caused a few of the petals to swirl around at his feet, reminding him of why he was here in the first place.

Bucky heard her humming from the other room when he got home from his morning run. Kicking off his shoes, he followed the sound of the humming to find Y/n plucking the drying petals off of the most recent bouquet, carefully depositing each petal into a glass jar.

“What’cha doing doll?” He called out, startling Y/n causing her to drop the flower she was currently working on.

“Jesus Buck! You scared me!” The pout that appeared on her face caused a chuckle to rumble in his chest. He swept her up in his arms, placing a kiss on her temple.

“Sorry darlin’. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Y/n hummed in delight as Bucky tightened his embrace.

“Well, if you must know-” She teased, spinning in his arms to face him, “I'm saving the flower petals from the bouquets you give me.”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Can I ask why?”

Y/n just smiled.  “Someday, when we get married, I want to use the flower petals from all of the flowers you have given me to decorate the aisle I walk down towards you.”

A hand on his shoulder snapped Bucky back to the present. 

“Hey man, you good? You looked a little lost there for a moment.” Sam said, brushing off Bucky’s suit. Bucky let out a shaky breath and smiled. 

“Yeah, jus’ thinkin’ bout how we got here.”  

Sam nodded his head and gave Bucky another pat on the shoulder before resuming his spot as best man. As he stood there, Bucky looked around at everyone who was there. Y/n’s immediate family was there of course, along with a couple of dear friends in her bridal party. On Bucky’s side, he had Sam and Torres as his groomsmen, and sitting in the crowd, he saw Suri sitting up front with both of Sam’s nephews, to help with the rings, Sarah was sitting nearby with a gentle smile on her face as she visited with the other folks. The kid who worked the counter at Joe’s on Saturdays, Howie, was there too smiling up at Bucky. Most of Sam’s family, who had accepted Bucky as one of their own were in the crow as well, mingling with Y/n’s family. Sam was gracious enough to let the couple use the backyard of the house for the small wedding.

The pair were a few weeks into wedding planning when the talk of location and size came up. 

“How big is this whole thing gonna be, doll?” Bucky asked as he looked at the different swatches of blue fabric sitting on their coffee table.  

Y/n sighed, “Would it be bad if I said I didn’t want a lot of people there? 50 at most?” Bucky looked up from the fabrics to meet Y/n’s gaze.

“Not at all.” He said with a smile, reaching for her hand across the table. “I think a small wedding is just our style if we are being completely honest.” Y/n smiled sweetly at him before resuming her mission to find the flowers she wanted.

“I think you are right. Do you think Sam would let us use the backyard of the house in Louisiana? It's so quiet, and in the fall when those big trees in the backyard are changing color? Underneath that willow tree? Oh, Bucky I think it’d be perfect!” 

Y/n was gushing at the idea, and with the way her eyes sparkled as she described the scene, Bucky was willing to do just about anything to make that dream a reality for her, and of course, as soon as he asked Sam, he said yes.

Bucky blinked back into the present. The fairy lights were starting to show their glow hanging from the branches of the willow tree, swaying gently in the breeze. The sun was just starting to set, the inky purples and blues of the evening starting to slip into the sky, just letting the stars peak out through all of the colors dancing above them. The colors of the leaves danced in the golden light, reflecting off the water nearby, creating a beautiful mosaic of color all around the crowd of people.  Suddenly the music changed. The filler music that had been playing for how long now, Bucky didn’t know, but he did know the song that was playing, it was the song that they danced to that night in the living room when Bucky decided that she was the one for him.

The pair had been cooking dinner, but when the next song on Y/n’s playlist came on, her eyes lit up, matching the smile that found its way onto her face.

“Oh Bucky I love this song! I know it’s not really slow dancing music but will you dance with me?” 

Bucky chuckled as he swept her into the middle of their kitchen. He spun her just as the chorus started and what happened next sealed his fate forever. As she spun, she laughed, one of the most beautiful sounds Bucky had ever heard. The golden rays of the sun danced off of her hair casting a golden glow in the room around them. When she was back in his arms, he pulled her close and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Marry me?” He asked softly. Y/n’s breath froze, perpetually stuck in her lungs.

“What?” She whispered, staring up at him wide-eyed. 

Bucky looked at her. “Y/F/N Y/L/N, will you marry me? I swear I’ll do this again, proper with a ring and everythin’ but I gotta know darling, will you marry me?”

Right as the same chorus started, Y/n appeared at the end of the aisle from Bucky. Sometime during his reminiscing, everyone had stood up and watched her appear, and now were now watching him as he took in the love of his life, standing there in white, bouquet of sunflowers, spray roses, and chamomile in her hands as she started walking towards him. Bucky couldn’t think of a single thing he had done right in his incredibly long life to deserve to be standing where he was right now, but he was forever grateful. 

Time flew by and before he knew it it was time for their vows. Y/n went first. 

“Bucky, ever since I’ve met you we’ve had a lot of learning and growing we have done over our three years together, one of the most noticeable things I have learned is when you go quiet, and won't let your guard down, I hear through the silence that you're trying to figure it out. You're trying to make me proud, believe me now, Baby, to the Moon and back

I still love you more than that. When your skies are grey, and your whole world is shaking

To the Moon and back, I love you more than that.”  

Bucky’s Adam's apple bobbed furiously up and down as the tears streamed down his face. He pulled the pocket square out of his suit pocket and tried to stop the tears flowing down his cheeks but to no avail, they had started flowing the moment Y/n had appeared at the end of the aisle. Steadying himself with a breath, Bucky began his vows.

I remember when I saw you at the movies, and to me, you were a stranger in the room.

But to my surprise, I met your eyes and that was when I knew. Yeah without a doubt, I took you out for coffee. We sat for hours at a table made for two. I love the flowers in your footprints and the sparkle in your eyes. It doesn't matter if it rains or shines cuz I'll be by your side. For the record, you're my treasure, I love you more and more, and after all that we've been through, I can say it, you're my favorite and you'll always be my muse and I hope that in your heart you know it's true.” 

Sam’s nephews brought up the rings, and with a little help from Suri, Bucky had a ring on his finger, identical to the one decorating Y/n’s hand. After the preacher said ‘You may now kiss the bride’ The rest of the evening was a blur for the couple. But once the party was in full swing and they took a rest from dancing, Bucky pulled Y/n into his arms, pressed a kiss to her temple, and whispered in her ear, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, than here with you.”

[quitealotofsodapop]

"Uh, Monkey King?" MK asked, ducking as a rather expensive pensive looking cloth flew ive this head, "What are you doing?"

"Packing." Sun Wukong grunted, eyeing what appeared to be a ceremonial robe of sorts with a critical eye. MK felt apprehension build in him, remembering what happened the last time he found his master packing.

"Are you... going somewhere?" MK swallowed his anxiety, hoping beyond all hope the answer was no. The gods, however, did not grant his wish.

"Yeah." Wukong sighed, running his hand through his fur, "I got some business that requires me to be gone for about a week. I'll try to keep you updated."

"A week!?" MK parrots back in horror, "But what about my training!?"

Wukong paused, tail flicking, before turning back to MK as if shocked he'd even ask that.

"MK, after everything that happened, do you really think a short break in training would be that big of an impact!?" Wukong asked, legitimately confused by MK's worry, "'Sides, you knot definitely are far enough in your training some self-guided study would be a benefit. If you want i can give you some tasks to do while I'm gone, too."

"But where are you going!?" MK asked, "And don't lie about going on vacation like you did with the whole Lady Bone Demon thing! Wait... is this like the lady Bone Demon? Are you having me behind again!?"

"Uh, no." Wukong grunted, pushing MK out of his face. "I just have some kingly duties to fulfill that require me to take a trip. I'm not going to be gone more than a week, maybe two at most. And Macaque is keeping an eye on the island so if anything happens, he can send a message to me."

MK froze at that, confusion written in his face. He tilted his head as he looked at the other monkey,

"Kingly duties? I thought being the Monkey King meant fighting bad guys and taking naps whenever you want!"

"No." Wukong chuckles, choosing to be amused by his apprentice' backwards comment than offended, "Being the Monkey Kid means fighting bad guys and saving the world. Being the Monkey King is a biiiit more complicated than that."

"...Say what now?"

"Alright, let's just say... I've been kinda keeping a lot of what goes into being my successor a secret." Wukong's paw came up to rub the back of his neck, "With so many major threats popping up all over the place, I'd focused entirely on your training as a warrior, but there's a side I haven't even began to touch. I wanted to make sure you were the best warrior you could be before either tried to add the ksot political and administrative side of being my heir into the fold."

"Politics!?" MK spat out incredulously, staring straight his mentor in disbelief.

"I am the Monkey King, MK. That means I have a whole kingdom to run." Wukong continued, "Any and all of the free time i get is dedicated to training you on top of that! The Counsel of the Great Demon Kings happens every hundred years or so. I hadn't gone to the last four, but since I've made a public reappearance, and with an apprentice at that, I'm expected to go and can't wiggle out of it this time! Believe me, I've tried."

"So like... Are you just up and leaving without me?" MK now looked heartbroken, putting all the puppy dog eyes on full blast, "You promised not to leave me again though!"

Wukong groaned, catching on to what MK was trying to do.

"Kid... you don't want to come with me. It's not going to be fun or exciting at all. You'll be forced to wear uncomfortable ceremonial robes that weigh a ton and have to be quiet and well-behaved." Wukong explained, trying to dissuade MK from his train of thought, "And everyone there is mean! They are dying to sniff out a scandal or two to take advantage of!"

"So? You said yourself you neglected to teach me how to handle politics. This is the perfect opportunity to start!" MK grinned, "I'm sure Tang can lend me one of his robes too."

"First of all, you will NEVER go to one of these events with a stuffy old scholar's robe. I'd lend you one of mine if that EVER happened." Wukong pointed out, eye twitching, "Second, NO! This is a final test sort of deal, NOT a tutorial type of thing!"

hehe! We discussed in the dms about poor Wukong having to attend a political summit for demon kings, and MK getting "homework" for the week.

Pigsy is approving of the homework idea. He's raised MK long enough to know his son needs goals to fulfil or he starts getting into trouble.

[ask-elliot-doorman-fam]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN YALL!

Haunters Eve-

“This is embarrassing Kia…” Tera mumbled, looking at herself in the mirror, she was dressed as a cat, a black cat, the ears poking out from her mane of black hair, most of it held back in a wolf's tail.

Black fur covered felt covered the cord of her tail, the only part uncovered was the head; which protested bring covered by anything. Her costume included gloves shaped like paws- the world's most unflattering black leather jacket, and black shorts.

“You look puuurfect!” Kiara giggled, wearing a witch costume, pointy hat and all.

“Ugh… I think I'd rather be one of the monsters for Mom's haunted house again…” Tera groaned, which got worse when Kiara rang the bell attached to her neck.

“You promised~” She teased, making Tera's face heat up in blush and a growl escape her core.

“I promised to go to the festival with you and Rad… not to wear a catsuit.”

“Daw but you look sooo cute!” Kiara replied, pushing lightly on Tera's chest, making the solver drone sigh.

“Fine. Whatever, what's Rad going as?”

“Werewolf.”

“So why am I cat?! You're both actual monsters!” Tera protested, slumping in defeat.

“Hehe. Because you said you didn't care what you went as and let me pick it out for you.” Was the worker girls response, standing in the middle of Tera's room, ready to head out.

“Right…”

Kiara grabbed her wrist and out the door they went, tumbling down the walkway stairs and ending up on the ground in a minute flat.

The little town of Sanctuary was lit up in a festive hue, lights of purple, orange, and green, banners of every color depicting drone cores. There were booths full of games and prizes that ranged from food to plushies to electronic parts, and a stage with live music.

Of course… there was also a big, spooky temporary structure sat at the mouth of the front gate- the haunted house, run by the Chieftess Uzi Doorman herself.

“Hey dudes!” Said a voice from behind them, and there stood Rad, green eyes mixing well with the shaggy brown ears stuck on his hat and a limp tail attached to his shorts. He was wearing tattered rags with faux fur lining the arm and leg holes…

“Nice witch K! And uh…” He looked Tera up and down, snickering a little. “Cute kitty.” He teased.

Tera whipped forward and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, about to yell about how she absolutely was not cute- only for her big paw gloves to squeak loudly.

Rad began to laugh histericly, despite still being lifted into the air. “Oh my god! That's the best!”

Tera flustered, putting him down and crossing her arms. “I'm not cute.”

“Tell that to the squeaky paws.” Rad smirked, earning him a few more indignant grumbles.

“Soooo? Haunted House first? Lines not long and we have a whole night!” Rad suggested, pointing at the open maw of the gate that served as the entrance.

“Sure. Not like it's gonna be actually scary.” Tera shrugged. Looking a bit aloof, owning her costume accidentally.

“Awesome! -Ah wait, Kiara?”

“Um… shouldn't we do that last? It's like, the best thing to do right? Like a uh- grand finale!” There was sweat on the inside of her visor, and her voice shook.

“You're not scared are you princess?” Tera teased, lifting an eyebrow.

“N-No! Of course not!” Kiara protested. “I just think it's a better thing to do last.”

Tera and Rad looked at each other with equal shit eating grins.

“Yeah. Were going.” They said in unison, all but dragging the eldest member of the group into the maw of the unknown.

Once they pass the blackout curtains, they arrive in a recreation of the Outpost-3’s bunker doors, wide open, snow blistering from the beyond and the howling of angry winds blasting against the mouth of the underground shelter.

“Holy hell! Your mom has got the atmosphere down! It almost feels like I'm really there!” Rad exclaimed taking in the painstakingly recreated environment.

“Yeah well… Halloween is her favorite holiday.” Tera replied, heading up to where the guides were… which was just her Dad. N.

“Hey kids! I just got done with the last group. You want to go through?” His head tilted to the side and his tail wagged, he wasn't dressed up as anything. Just himself, which was perfectly on theme.

“Yes please Mr. Doorman!” Rad exclaimed in excitement, and N laughed in response. “For this tour, call me by my name…” He said eerily, visor flickering into an X and his head beginning to twitch.

“Ooooh. Spooky.” Came from Rad. Tera just chuckled and Kiara just smiled warily, scooting a bit closer to Tera.

“Follow Me.” N hummed, disappearing behind a black curtain painted to look like a ventilation shaft, and the trio went along with him, Rad leading the charge.

N lead them through a dark corridor, His voice becoming echoed.

“Before we settled here… we lived on a planet called Copper-9-' The sound of wind blew more harshly, hail pattering against the walls… “Somewhere frozen, Inhospitable, a broken, forsaken place.”

“The worker drones were safe in the bunker… but outside?”

Three giant claws erupted through the ceiling next to Tera's head. Kiara jumped a foot in the air, and Rad yelped, Tera just ducked slightly with a laugh. “Hey V.” She hummed deadpan.

“Outside there were monsters… Angels of Death that swooped down in the night, stealing away anyone caught outside the safety of the walls.”

“Aren't you a Dissasembly Drone too?” Tera called out. Knowing every keyword the attraction had by heart.

N stopped in the middle of the hall at her words before suddenly whipping around, smiling maniacally, swiping his claws just shy of actually making contact with any of the group.

He growled before pulling back. “I have more… self control…”

Rad looked impressed, whistling at the showmanship. And Tera smirked, Kiara laughed but it sounded nervous, her eyes flickering to the hall they'd just went through.

“Come on, it's just my dad.” Tera hummed, just quiet enough for Rad not to hear. Kiara laughed a little.

“I-I know! I'm not scared!”

“As I was saying… there are monsters outside.”

The audio of utter carnage began to soak through the wall; gunfire, screams, the sounds of drones being ripped apart and eaten.

“But… they don't compare to the horrors beneath the planets crust.”

The hallway opened up the room swarmed by black tentacles, erupting from the ground crawling on walls… the red overhead light made it seem like they were moving…

“Up from the depths, all drones are consumed- no matter their make or model.”

Tera shuffles uncomfortably. She never liked this section even when she was activly working in it, it always made her feel uneasy.

Kiara screams. Activating all the alarms in Tera's head, Kiara grips onto her- something pulling her down into the floor. Rad yelps as something grabs his leg too.

Tera grabs them both, acting on instinct and lifting them both off the floor with one hand, Rad in in left hand, and Kiara in her right.

She hears giggling underneath the floor and sighs.

It's the twins.

“We shouldn't linger here.” N hums ominously, inviting them to follow. And Tera drops her freinds back onto the ground.

“Come on scardy cats.” She groans before moving on, ignoring the comment from Rad about her costume.

The next room is one the Doorman family likes to lovingly call, “The Chase”

There are multiple ‘infected’ drones clawing at a fence behind them, before them is a long dark hallway, only at the end is there light.

“This is what happens to drones caught by the infection.’ N utters, his voice seeming to spur on the excitement of the infected, they growl and hiss, tentacles incasing their arms or legs- even entire face.

And then one fucking screams. Beginning to climb the gate at an unnatural speed.

“RUN!” N shouts. As the rest of the infected scale the fence to reach them, Rads the first one off, half-yelling, half-laughing as the first one leaps over the fence and sprints towards them.

Kiara is frozen though. Standing shock still as two more hit the ground running.

“Kia! Move!” Tera shouts before, taking her onto her shoulders and sprinting down the hall, but there's one drone that can somehow keep pace with her, hot on her heels as she has to actually TRY to get away.

It was probably Bishop. But that revelation only came later.

The infected drone swipes at them, just barely missing as they fall into the next room, quite literally plummeting a few feet onto a pile of pillows.

N does not follow… they are on their own.

Tera maneuvers herself so that she breaks Kiara's fall. She knew there were pillows, but old habits don't die with that knowledge. And so the worker lands on top of her with a grunt.

They both pant breathlessly, Tera staring up at the worker that has her pinned to the ground, her arms either side of her head.

Then she starts laughing. “Dammit! I knew that was coming and I still got surprised!”

Kiara joins her a moment later, both flying into a fit of giggles. “You goob! And you called me scared!”

After a moment, they climb out of the pile, pulling back a curtain to reveal a room that's pitch black…

“Rad? Raaaaad?” Kiara calls out, and gets no response. Tera squints into the darkness, it's oppressive and even the eyes on her tail struggle to make out anything.

Then- feedback noise so loud it makes Kiara wince and Tera nearly double over, yellow light rises from the floor, the entire room spinning and spinning…

The walls are flesh, the floor is flesh… there's something moving on the ceiling, it curls and coils in strange patterns, lurching unnaturally, it's humanoid then it's not, dozens of eyes in the shape of camera lenses stare at them.

Tera freezes, she knows what this room is, she's been in this room, worked here, been the one controlling the thing on the ceiling and yet being down here brought a whole new feeling.

It was the thing from her nightmares- the creature she'd been fighting every other night in her sleep, it was here, staring, looking into her soul to try and seize it from her.

She's pulled out of the room by the wrist, ending up back in the beginning room. The bunker. Her core pounding out of her chest, she doesn't realize it. But she's trembling.

“Tera? You alright?” Kiara's voice brings her out of it, and she snaps back to reality. Her Dad is back behind the desk, and Rad was chatting with some random worker in their own group.

“Wh- Yeah! Totally!” She quickly recovers, shaking off the feeling of dread and finding herself grounded by Kiara holding her hand- when had that happened?

“Alright! Let's head to the rest of the festival!” Rad runs back over to them, giddy beyond reason. Kiara's hand is quickly no longer there.

“Thank god… no more haunted house.” Kiara laughs, seeming to relax a lot more after the ordeal was over.

Tera found herself agreeing…

“Yeah. Let's just head to the rest of the festival…”

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

[ayyyoonohwhatimean]

heejake! as your best friends <3

genre: fluff, fully cracks! bsf! heejake x bsf reader! the trioz lesgaurrrr i swear i'm not high when i wrote this! behold, it's going to be quite a long ride but I hope you guys would enjoy and like it! I had a lot of fun writing this!! apologies for any grammar mistakes/errors in advance. may your delulu be trululu and pls feel free to share your feedback! :) - N.

l e t apostrophe s g o let’s goOooO

just jake being the babygirl between u and heeseung most of the time

heeseung is no doubt the leader when it comes to who's the flirtiest

jake is like the second flirtiest among u guys

every flirty lines from them = an instant rejection from u to them but IK YOU LOVE IT deep inside

"if you drink this water, it means you love me"

"I'd rather die, hee"

meanwhile jake laughing his ass off as he fake drinking his water

but at rare times, you'd flirt back with them to the point where they'll be flustered by your sudden act and confidence

HORROR MOVIES NIGHTSSS omg it'd be so so fun!!

these two mfs are literally the scaredy cats ones but you'd literally beg them to watch horror movies with you since it's your favourite and their reactions are always funny

"it's not even scary, you guys can go to those abandoned houses but not watch horror movies?"

"i swear we're not the scared ones, it's only you", heeseung and jake quickly protest

"um ok babygirls, let's see ;)"

guess who were the ones that fell on their knees, hiding their faces with pillows and screaming throughout the whole movie

yup jake and heeseung

"ahHhhh kkamchakgiya!!"

you were having a blast laughing your ass off because of them :')

"guys, shut up the neighbours are gonna think that I kill you guys or something"

every moment with them together is full of fun, laughter and randomness!

fun rides at the theme park! there'll be days where you guys would spend your free time at the theme park together

even though heeseung is afraid of heights, he'd still try on the rides that you and jake want to ride!

"let's ride this guysss!" jake would excitedly shout to you guys as he points out at the specific ride

we go shout out shout out shout out when we're together-

constant teasing and bickering with each other but ace heeseung would always be the winner among u guys

imitating jake’s eyes blinking habit whenever you guys would record videos together to keep as good memories

heeseung doesn’t like sour things and he’s not good with them so one day you decided to prank him with “sweet” candies for fun and he fell for it (god finally)

sweet hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee venoM

all the time it’s just you and heeseung having soft spots and puppy eyes over jake, sometimes it's the other way around

the two of them would take care of you so well and are lowkey down bad for you 100% no doubt

if they notice some random bad guys trying to hit on you, their facial expressions would literally change oof and that's hot af

like heeseung would bring his dumbell and jake would casually put his arm around you to intimidate anyone that mess or flirt with u lol

would be the type to roast every guys that you've liked/ like too

you forgot to eat? or haven’t been eating well? be prepared for your mouth to get stuffed with ur fav foods by them

you want some snacks? heeseung would buy it for you and even share his snacks with u and jake would cook for you in the kitchen anything u want babe

romantic domestic bestie lee heeseung and acts of service king sim jaeyun in ur service ding dong deng

they might not be good at expressing their feelings when it comes to words but would always be there for you whenever you feel down and are having a bad day and vice versa

heeseung would pat your head and mess up your hair on purpose and jake will follow along doing the same shit to you

the more you give reactions, the more they love and enjoy it

they love back hugs! they won't even hesitate to back hug you and ask you to back hug them back lol

"ew what the fuck was that losers-"

"hug us back pleasee we're cold! can't you see us shivering?" jake and heeseung plead with no shame

would definitely play with your fingers since theyre smol and cute no matter how disgusted you’d act by it

sorry i'm an anti-romantic

other than back hugs, the two of them also like to rest their heads on your shoulders while you're in the middle of them in total silence but that kind of comfortable silence yk

the three of u would lie down on the floor or the grass or something together while talking about random things even some deep topics

heeseung is the clown of the group like literally you and jake would die from laughing too much bcus of heeseung’s randomness and witty jokes

late night walk and ice cream nights! heeseung would go get his fav flavour aka rainbow sherbet, jake with his classic fav chocolate and u with your fav ice cream flavour

there was this one time when you got mint chocolate flavour for your ice cream on purpose so that you could mix it in their ice cream silently when they looked away and got distracted

you guys would get matchy stuff to represent ur friendship plus it’s cute too so why not

oh!! mirror selfies!! IS A MUST! anytime you guys saw a mirror, taking mirror selfies together is a must and tradition in the friendship lol

would do fun activities like playing games or building legos that you guys got together at a nearby shop last weekend for hours

basketball match! heeseung is a menace and jake with his competitive ass as usual

they love teasing you whenever you guys are having a basketball match together because of your short and even tall height (they just love teasing you in general honestly)

“y/n, hereee catch it!”, heeseung loudly telling you

“hah! you thought”, jake says while hysterically laughing with heeseung

“shut up, you two flat ass”, you side eyeing them as you replied back

“what did you just call us-“

“HAH I GOT IT” boom you finally scored a point!

you left them gasping

karaoke session with each other! you’d fail trying to harmonise with them singing as they dramatically fall on the floor laughing

random dance battles at three in the morning with heekira featuring jake’s top-notch playlist

you and heeseung would constantly tease jake bcus his reactions are funny and cute plus it’s amusing to watch fr (ni-ki don't worry I gotchu)

also don't forget that fishing is a must!

the three of you would go fishing even if none of you would manage to catch a fish at the end of the day (jake won't give up though the fishing blood is in him)

jake being the one to always hide either behind you or heeseung for no reason at all

heeseung would lowkey be prepared? like he's doraemon or something whenever u guys hangout

you forgot to bring your wet tissue and lip balm? the restaurant stall doesn’t give salt for the food? jake suddenly got his mouth sores and forgot to bring his meds? HE HAS THEM ALL READY IN HIS BAG!!

except for y’alls wallets because you two would expect jake to be paying for the food like you guys would run out of the restaurant and leave jake behind so that he would have to pay

"guys i'll go to the toilet first my stomach isn't having it"

"uh sureee take your time!" heeseung and you replied trying to hold yourselves from grinning

soon after jake left for the toilet

"yo let's leave him for fun" said you to heeseung

"and make him pay for the food" heeseung replied as you two laughed at the idea

you guys ran out and when jake came back, he's left all alone at the restaurant standing like that one confused gta character in the middle of the road

jake was all pouting and ofc he ended up paying for the food anyway

"why did you guys leave me thereee" jake complained as he got into the car where you guys were waiting for him

"look at you being so cute" said you to him as you and heeseung were laughing at him

"what about me?" heeseung suddenly asking you to compliment him as well

"you always look cute too though"

"no, I'm sexy" heeseung replied to you

you and jake facepalmed at his very random answer and sudden confidence (eventho it's true lol)

"um did you hear that, jake?"

"nahh, it must be a ghost or something. should we leave the car?" jake asking as the two of you were pretending to open the doors to leave

"heyyy you two can't leave me here!" heeseung panics as jake and you laugh hysterically at his reaction

carpool karaoke together on the way home babyyy

overall being friends with them would be so chaotic, random, dramatic, magical and fun! (need them sm right now i'm on my knees)

xo o O o O xo o O o O kiss me don't say nooo

[lostinvasileios]

Hello! I hope this message finds you well! I wanted to ask how should one go about becoming a devotee? I feel like my religious trauma is holding me back and that I'm just not cut out for any of this. I don't feel as if I have anything to offer the gods or goddesses I'd want to worship and it's just a lot. I don't even feel like I'm worthy while simultaneously lacking faith because of my past experiences with Christianity. I just don't know 😭. I'm also not in a safe environment to create alters or anything like that.

Ooohh my days. Umm, allow me to apologize very sincerely on getting to this as late as I am, sweetheart. I reallyyy... Got... Lost in the divine sauce... And you know - life as a whole kind of... Distracted me from Tumblr? But! That's for another post, let's dive right into your question.💞🌷🌷

Firstly!! There is no guidebook on being a devotee. A devotee, as a literal definition (the last time I checked at least) just means someone who worships (a god). In other words, the only thing you should do to be a devotee for a lord, is to be... Devoted to them. However devotion and being devoted looks and/or means to you.

Believe it or not, I relate to this a ton. I mean, for fuck's sake I quite literally had snot running down my face, full blasted-ly ugly crying in front of Apollon because of my religious trauma and how I felt so held back from the relationship I so desperately wanted with him. I even repented to him one time on accident but that's... Not important right now...

I see a lot of early devotees crashing their own parade before they even get marching by questioning "what they have to give" to their gods. I've got a simple answer for you and anyone else struggling with that: thyself. (Yourself)

That may sound a bit - overboard or scary. But it's quite simple. Gods don't expect offerings, as much as media might make it sound. Hell, in my experience? Lucifer, for example, doesn't even typically like it whenever I go tryhard for his offerings. He has literally straight up told me "No" and that I am spoiling him on multiple occasions.

Gods much rather have a genuine connection with you than to have the finest piece of freshly baked bread or the sweetest aged wine. They'd prefer you to blow them a kiss (which can be you just blowing a kiss to the air or whatever), you to smile when you think of them, listen to music that reminds you of them... To love them, and to eventually learn, and trust, that they love you just as much.

Idk what in particular makes you think you have no/little worth, but I assure you a god will not see you in the same light you see yourself. Unless you are literally having the strongest of all sticks up your ass and a fine-print contract type of situation with 100% "these are the rules and this is what I'll do for you in exchange for this" type of relationship with your deity or deities, I can promise you that all of your doubts (that you've allowed me to know here at least) are unfounded. This idea of you lacking worth, from my perspective, is just you lacking self esteem more than anything. Everyone is worth it, everyone in their own way or another, deserves the experience of being beloved by a god. Including you.

Faith is also not given, it is built. Faith cannot be demanded. That is false, that is inauthentic, and that is harmful. Which can also lead you to psychosis and ect ect...

Faith takes time. And you aren't expected to give gods your faith, heart, or trust right away. They won't command you to grovel at their feet and plead your life to them. It takes months, years, or however long to truly build faith for what it really is and not what you were taught by people turning to religion for something impure told you it was.

And altars are not a necessity either! I promise. Altars are nice and altars can be calming to have if you want them and can have them. But there are many different ways to have a worship space if you want it. Personally, I like to have my altars in my head. Imagining a beautiful cathedral dedicated to my beloved, decorated and architecture-d for them specifically... It makes things a lot easier, affordable, convenient (because you can give them an offering anywhere yk), I could go on. These also take time to build as well, since you need to get the hang of visualization and stuff. But, if you want a physical reminder of your deity, just get a plush, devote something you already have to them or set aside a bit of your drink for them.. The list continues. You quite literally can make anything into an altar or an offering. A little patch of grass outside? Hell yeah, put your hand on the ground and tell your god that you're thinking of them. Do whatever you want! They appreciate your genuineness more than any trinket or whatever.

Your love is what makes the thing special, not the thing itself, ykwim?

Anywayyy... I yapped a bit, my bad. I hope it helps you though, honey!!! Many blessings to you. May divinity give you their tender kisses of reassurance and pearls of peace. 🪽💙🐝

[yuurivoice]

Hi Yuuri I just wanted to say I miss Howell. That’s all I hope you have a good day😊

I do too! There's still a lot about him I want to know and figure out. I was able to delve into him a bit more (and get some much needed closure) with some friends. I don't think he's really a character that I want to do various iterations of in different worlds and campaigns, because it's that specific story of his that I love. If it's removed from that world and story, I'd rather have another shot at a new character.

I was able to salvage a couple of relationships out of the rubble from the entire ordeal surrounding TnD, and I've got no beef with anyone who wasn't literal human trash, so Howell's place in my heart is unscathed in terms of being attached to a really shitty time and situation.

Reflecting on those days, that shit was a nightmare scenario. Obviously my own emotional turmoil pales in comparison to the literal criminal and victim in our midst, don't get that twisted because those most directly impacted by one asshole's actions should be the primary concern. It is a hell of a pill to swallow having something that dear to you go up in flames in such a public and grotesque way.

I don't blame anyone who feels any type of way about how it was handled and the aftermath of it. The truth of it all is, one person's really fucked up actions had widespread effects on a lot of people. The radius of that bomb was no joke.

Howell is very dear to me, and those Sundays were genuinely the favorite day of the week for me over that time. The backlash, anger, resentment, and then emptiness of it all really took its toll, as I'm sure it did on everyone caught in the blast zone.

The bad guy got got in the end, and I'm thankful for the folks who made sure that happened.

That year as a whole was really difficult. That wasn't the only heavy thing I had to work through that year. There was a stretch of six months that were probably the worst of my adult life in terms of interpersonal turmoil. The universe really took a bat to my kneecaps.

Saying ALLLLLLLL of that to say, if I had lost my love for Howell, it would have taken a significant toll on me creatively. I would not so freely share the parts of myself it takes to create the stories and characters I do now. I can pretty confidently say that something like Echoes or Shattered would never happen.

I struggled mightily with BitterSweet Chapter 3 for that reason. It was hard to want to carve out pieces of myself to share with the world, and certainly very difficult to work with anyone else out of fear that their bad actions could rob me of my passion even more.

But I learned a lot, and over that time I also think I was able to show my community how serious situations get handled while I'm at the helm. I hate that me and the team have been on the frontlines of a few really serious community PR nightmares, but I do think we've been able to exhibit an ability to treat things with maturity, respect, and direct action.

So Howell means a lot to me. We've been on two journeys, one fictional, and one real...and boy we've gotten our asses kicked more than a few times.

There is a chance, albeit a small one, that there's a DnD story to be told with Howell and some friends, for the world to partake in. Don't know if it'll happen, but the chances aren't 0%...

[linka-from-captain-planet]

How would you rank the Dragon Age games?

my ranking is DAV > DA2 > DAI > DAO based on my personal taste. More/explanation below the cut if you're interested!

(if I were ranking my favorite DA media I've consumed, The Masked Empire would be #1 with 100/10)

Possibly important context: I played the DA series for the first time in 2024, and I played DAI -> DA2 -> DAO -> DAV in that order. So I have no nostalgia factor at play, and haven't had a decade to ruminate about any particular game in this series.

Veilguard (8/10) This is the Dragon Age game for Me. I think this is largely due to some really competent game design decisions; the quality of life playing this game is amazing, and the way the companions and quests are structured just really worked. It's polished and sleek. The progression worked, the way companions are integrated into the story so none can be fully ignored (I'm guilty of this) worked, the story worked, the whole vibe and spirit worked. It also accomplished what I never thought would be possible: fun DA combat. I actually have saves for the Siege of Weisshaupt and Fire and Ice and the endgame just so I can go back and do these big kickass battles. There's no one part of the game that makes me hesitate to fire up a new file. It takes a few hours to ramp up, but once shit gets real, it stays real. I don't feel compelled to mod it at all (I could nitpick, but I only mod for QOL). This is the game I want to play when it feels like the real world is more fucked than Southern Thedas. It drew out feelings I hadn't felt since Feb 2020. There are a few things I think could have been better (e.g. I think Faction was a weak way to frame the player's allies). After playing, I don't mind the lack of worldstate, but I really only wanted easter eggs and codex entries to begin with.

Dragon Age 2 (7.5/10) I would rather read a short story or novella than a big ass 500-page honkin novel so in this way - impact-per-hour - DA2 is my #1 always. I love the scope limited to one fraught city. I love the personal-political integration. On easy mode, the janky combat doesn't bother me (it's over fast enough) and I find a kitschy charm in the reused maps. It's impressive and also designed very competently for what resources they were given (i've said before - DA2 would never work with a dignified, sweeping story like DAO or DAI with its level of jank - giving the player one shithole city and a small group of dirtbags as companions is the only way its cracks wouldn't become canyons). Hawke is the best DA protagonist due to feeling very defined in their own right (I don't care to create OCs - Default Marian all the way. The drama and chaos of the finale - including having to fight-kill companions I couldn't sway - was top tier. Being pretty contained, I don't feel a big drive to keep playing DA2, like it's not really that "fun" to play for me. It feels like a very immersive book. It's pretty neck and neck with DAV, but DAV just being more *fun* edges it out.

Inquisition (7/10) My first DA! Drops below DA2 based mainly on quality of life. This game is a true slog - I don't think I'd be able to play it without mods when I return to it; the looting animation alone makes me want to rip my teeth out. I find it very impressive for the time it was developed (this game made me like 50% *less* impressed with BG3 actually), but it's very much a more-is-less situation for my taste. That said I love "the Inquisition" as a concept. My first play, I went in completely cold and had no idea what anyone was talking about ever (e.g. no clue what a Warden was, no clue about "circles" or why mages and "templars" were beefing) but still had a blast, and it was some of the most thrilling video game play I'd ever experienced. I felt engaged the whole first run. I also appreciate the variety in quests, companions, and locations. It was a great introduction to Thedas as a whole. The companions were hit or miss; I didn't swap them out much, and running around the ginormous Skyhold base to talk to them for 20 hours each was a colossal bore.

Origins (6.5/10) I hesitated to play DAO basically because of the broodmother, and I would not have played this game if I didn't find a way to skip it entirely with console commands/debugging menu. I also skipped all combat and can guarantee I wouldn't have made it through the prologue if i couldn't. I do find it very impressive for its time, and I try to give it some grace on the extremely mid-00s edgelord aura that makes a lot of the dialogue/dialogue options excruciating to me (note: I also despise Purple Hawke). The story was engaging and while I didn't really care about many of the companions (I never switched out my team of Alistair, Morrigan, and Leliana), I loved the supporting cast and antagonists. The power struggle aspect of the story was incredible, mixed in with the darkspawn threat - it felt very immersive and the stakes felt high. I didn't particularly care for the "gather your allies" part of the story, but this probably would have been cooler if I didn't killallhostiles everything in every battle including the endgame. While this is a very competent (for its time) and engaging game, there's just nothing about it that makes me feel insane. The closest it comes is how sick the Warden Lore is, but there are no characters or story beats that make me want to write a fic or play over and over. Ultimately, DAO comes last because of its grossness about women, being unplayable (to me) without skipping like 30% of the game between the end of the Deep Roads and combat, and just not having anything that makes me feel insane.

[nerdallwritey]

for the fic asks!

✅🔚🤔😊

✅ list one or two favorite lines you’ve written and explain why they’re your favorite

HMM. Good question. There are certain lines that I write where I'm like "Oh this. This is beautiful," but of course none of them are coming to me now. I'll list a few sequences I love rereading though! (Sorry for the yappage, but are we surprised?)

An Evening to Ourselves

“Rather aerodynamic, isn’t he?” Gale remarked. - Making fun of Astarion's predator run

When you're overthinking in your tent and Astarion's like "I can hear you thinking from across camp" lol

The moment where Astarion's mask goes up and it scares you enough that it snaps him out of it

General Astarion softness with your firsts

Just to Ruin Me

The whole waking up sequence where Astarion smacks you and you hit him with a pillow

"I did have a knife."

The companions finding you snoozing together

Astarion tackling you to the ground and forgetting you need to breathe

Cheeks All Flushed

Shadowheart's wrath

Astarion attempting and failing to get drunk

Gale asking minimal questions about pranking Astarion

Withers

Perfect Every Time

Astarion snoozing on your chest

“Oh I didn’t, but I wanted you to think your little thought experiment had actually evoked some sort of… thought… in me.” He made a face. “Want to try and rephrase that?” “Not particularly.”

Splash fight

Fish love

Worth the Peril

Comparing Astarion to a Barbarian

Feral/protective Astarion right after the injury

"You're allowed to love her"

Reading sequence

About to Strike

Astarion not knowing who Jaheira is

Stretching to prove you feel fine and failing miserably

The entire Jaheira poisoning you sequence

Finding the ring then pampering the elf

Okay CLEARLY I found a few good quotes while skimming through 😅

🔚 have you ever completely changed the direction a piece was going?

I'm sure I have. I usually go into writing with an idea of what I want to say/big plot points and then the bits in between kind of just weave everything together. I know that "Perfect Every Time" was supposed to be part of "Worth the Peril," but it got too long and I made it its own part! I also have the memory of a goldfish and will have ideas while I'm not in front of my computer and then forget it and have to come up with something else.

🤔 why do you write fic?

Honestly? I think I was putting off finishing my first play through of bg3. I didn't want my time with the companions to end so I kind of decided not to let it and tried to bring them to life through more storytelling. I also really wanted to write about Astarion being thrown off by a Tav. I've said it before, but the idea for "An Evening to Ourselves" came to me while I was trying to sleep one night and I made myself laugh when thinking about how if Astarion propositioned me, I'd be like "Wait, me? Why?" lol. I was also in a really unmotivated/somewhat depressed state back in the spring (when I started writing this series) and I really needed a way to be creative and have some fun. I regret nothing! I'm having a blast with you guys and am glad you enjoy the dorks I write about!

😊 say something nice about your writing

I do love my dialogue. It comes very easily to me, whereas prose and description can be a little more difficult. I guess my brain is just wired to think of quick snappy dialogue as opposed to waxing poetic about the vampire's beauty. But I make myself laugh a lot with the dumb things I make the characters say, and I know if EYE am laughing, that you guys probably will too :)

[edutainer2022]

The idea of the Ultimate Rescue Scout and the Ultimate Bad Girl having an impossible, clandestine (no)thing keeps coming back to haunt me. That, and the image of Scott Tracy making pancakes.

Many thanks, as ever, to @janetm74 for bearing with me.

CW: implied naughty activities, nothing graphic or overt.

BREAKFAST

She woke up in a haze to the sounds coming from the kitchen. They shared the apartment with Fuse, who wasn't exactly light-footed or quiet. But those sounds were distinctly alien - the clank of dishes and an obsolete rock banger, blasting from the radio. Someone was singing along to it.

Fuse was not due back till Monday. But singing in particular had no place in her digs.

Havoc reached for a knife, stashed under her mattress at all times, and slipped from beneath the covers. The cold floor jolted her more alert. Blimey! She'd been so snug and could have slept in, for once. She could even pretend to still be...

She scanned the assortment of clothes, scattered on the floor, and opted for the denim shirt with a couple of buttons ripped out. She might have been a tad too enthusiastic the night before. Soundless, like a ghost, she glided to the kitchen door.

"What the hell are you doing here!!!"

The bellow caught him comically unawares, blue eyes blown wide, a spatula frozen in hand, a dollop of batter smeared on his cheek. She would have laughed, but the fact he was currently clad in his jeans, hanging precariously low on hips, and not much else, hitched her voice in a suddenly dry throat.

"Um, pancakes?"

He waved the spatula in the general direction of the stove, a frying pan sizzling merrily. She didn't even know they OWNED a frying pan!

"I mean, what are you doing HERE?! You were supposed to leave!"

He had the audacity to not look the least bit chastised or guilty.

"That wouldn't be very chivalrous of me, would it? I'd rather take you out for breakfast - your pantry is DESOLATE, but that could blow the cover."

Dimples were added into the mix, flanking the cheeky grin. Bastard! She should have just killed him, really, and saved herself a whole world of trouble. But where chill sobered her up earlier, a treacherous heat was flaring up.

Trouble was definitely brewing, as he properly took in her attire - his own rumpled shirt was coming down to her thighs, but busted buttons left little to imagination. Cobalt eyes darkned in an instant and the boyish grin vanished. A clear sign of danger. Yet the knife slipped from her grasp to the tiled floor.

The pancakes ended up burnt to a crisp. So did the pan. It was way past lunch by the time they ordered in.

[jewishgirlrevolt]

Objective review of episodes 1&2 of Agatha All Along, Coven of Chaos, whatever SPOILERS!!!! So many SPOILERS

It's intriguing. Agatha is woken up and we see that Westview knows exactly who she is and just kind of humored her as "Agnes" playing a long. She's the "cookie" neighbor.

Aubrey Plaza is awesome. I haven't seen her in much. So I have nothing to compare her performance to. Just that I thought she was good.

The Witches Road song is cool. Good harmonies.

What else: Some jump scares in episode 2.

What am I forgetting?

Ah yes: So Teen is um....a goth, witchcraft nerd. He's kind of like a male Willow Rosenberg. What is interesting is that Teen doesn't have a name or backstory that Agatha can hear. It gets all muffled. But he did drop that his mom died.

If he is Billy, his Jewishness is going to be a quick flashback to his bar mitzvah and will probably never be mentioned again. Because as we learned children, superhero films are apparently allergic to words like "Jewish."

There is still hope that he turns out to be Agatha's son, however. His obsession with Agatha, the fact that in the cool opening sequence where Agnes thinks she's a detective, her tragic detective backstory is her missing child. So maybe he is her son and those whole Billy Kaplan thing is a misirect. I hope. IDK. I'd rather he be anyone but Billy. But I have no hopes.

Ironically, the only time I could have maybe believed Joe was Billy Kaplan was when he was being a bitch to Agatha in her detective world. And not whatever we got later. There are some hints about how he wants the road for power, to fly and blast people. Why he wants those things we do not know. Also, he does have a boyfriend who is just "Boyf" and he "worries."

Also he better not be Billy because I have to say, a Jewish kid casting spells in Latin really rubs me the wrong way.

If you forget or don’t think about Billy. The shoe has potential. I’m just not sure what to make of it yet. Good mystery. All characters serve a purpose. Idk what purpose teen serves. But we’ll find out.