#little goblins fr

[i-fondued]

I hate to bombard you with another ask but I need to get it out before I forget it.

Ok so you know how in old monarchies people used to crowd in and make a big deal about the queen giving birth, and how in medieval times there were all kinds of different garments and charms and superstitious practices around royal births?

What if there were a birth ritual wherein the prime mover must give birth in front of the entire church, especially the upper clergy members, and the papa(s) deliver the baby with the guidance of an esteemed abbey midwife? IMAGINE THE BOYS FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO ACTUALLY DELIVER THE BABY(s) AND WHO GETS TO CUT THE CHORD(s)!!

THIS IS GOING ON THE LIST OF AUs BECAUSE ITS FUCKING HILARIOUS TO ME.

JUST PICTURING THEM TRYING TO SHOVE THE OTHER OUT OF THE WAY LIKE NO I SHOULD BE THE ONE TO DO IT AND THEN BOOM ANOTHE BABY AND THE ONE WHO THOUGHT HE COULDN'T CUT THE CORD LOOKS VICTORIOUSLY AT THE OTHER ONE AND FLIPS HIM OFF.

also that would make me want to die, like giving birth isn't gross enough. to have a whole ass clergy and sibling population just fucking WATCHING ME?? a pox upon your house fr

[jadecantcreate]

had a Thought about skrimm/barnabos (offhandedly mentioned very light/not plot related spoilers for eps 1 through 8)

so obviously barnabos has his thing with the woman in the shell right? calling her lover and all — it’s very clear they’re in a romantic relationship. it feels to me like it’s also kind of a warlock-patron or follower-god dynamic given her nature as some kind of otherworldly being (giving barbabos boons/abilities, appearing as fish, etc)

so imagine when barbabos catches feelings for skrimm and realizes it…how could he betray his lover, his muse, his goddess, even, like that? what would she think if she knew? she’d abandon him, certainly, and she would be justified. what is he to do? i mean, he might just be reading too deep into it and it’s just friendship. that comforts him a bit. but a part of him knows what he feels and it horrifies him. he loves the woman in the shell and devoted himself fully to her. but was that love anything more than admiration now? when had his romantic feelings for her dissipated and weakened enough to let someone else in? and skrimm, lazy slacker and sleazy conman skrimm, of all people? maybe if he can convince that nagging part of him, neither skrimm or his lover will learn of this sin, and he’ll forget all about it. he’s not sure he can. he tells himself it’ll pass eventually, as all things do and manages to believe it

and skrimm would react similarly, too. it just started as a joke by queenie and him exploiting a loophole (and barnabos’ assumption of him meaning well) to not do any work…he should’ve known to keep his guard up, to stop himself from getting too close — closer than he already was to all of them. in such a dangerous situation, attachment was a disadvantage. sticking together and being friends benefits the party, of course. more people, more skillsets, means more chances of survival. but love messes with skrimm’s head, and he’s not the smartest already — who’s to say he won’t sacrifice himself for barnabos’ sake? its a scary thought, and its even scarier that he doesn’t have a strong aversion to the idea. he has to get rid of these feelings somehow and he will figure it out…hopefully

[tickle-bugs]

I just wanted to say regardless of whether you've seen the show that you're my favorite ST writer. I dont know how you capture the characters so well while further developing them perfectly but it's genuinely incredible. I must've read your steddie fics like 97 times just because I adore them <3 If you're still taking prompts, I'd love to maybe see Steve and Eddie! Maybe with "Oh this is too good to pass up" as the dialogue? Either way, you're incredible and I can't wait to read all your other work <3

Okay, wow this is VERY sweet ;w; You are so so kind anon. I think I'm getting better at writing them now after having practiced. Those first fics have a fond place in my heart for being the first ones, but every day I am tempted to rewrite them LMAO

anyways, I'm certainly far from perfect but I'm grateful that you enjoy them!! This warms my heart so much. I really do love writing them and the positive response to those fics made me wanna keep going and improve. Still haven't seen the show yet but honestly I'm chilling in this little niche I've carved for them.

Hopefully this fic makes you happy and pushes me a lil closer to being worthy of the honor of being your fav. Really hope you enjoy--I fuckin love these boys <3

...................

Ahoy, Sailor

You can read this as a season three au or as season four. Either way, Steve and Eddie have a bitchy will they/won’t they rivalry situation going on. Eddie REALLY likes pushing Steve’s buttons. 

It’s not unusual for Eddie to find his way to the Harrington house for some excuse or another, but he’ll admit it’s unusual to be invited. He tends to just appear and haunt Steve unasked. It’s more fun that way. 

Steve had called him, muttering something about how Eddie needed to come pick up his vest because it ‘smelled like a depressed hippie’. Eddie had fired back that Steve’s room couldn’t possibly smell any better without it, and their usual bickering had Eddie leaving fifteen minutes later with a grin on his face.

He loves Steve. Messing with him, that is. So, naturally, when Eddie ascends the stairs and sees Steve dressed like a little schoolboy, he takes a minute to compose his best jokes.

“Ahoy, sailor.” Eddie whistles, leaning in the doorway to Steve’s room. He drinks in the Scoops Ahoy uniform and all it blessedly has to offer. 

“Wh—oh, fuck off. It’s laundry day.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Aye aye, cap’n.” Eddie salutes. Steve flips him off.

“Cool the attitude, sassy lost child.” Eddie snorts. There’s piles of clothes on every surface in the room, arranged in a way that suggests intention but would baffle even the most equipped psychologist. Eddie wants to ask about the system here, but he knows he’s no better, so he just watches Steve flit around with a little pout on his face. 

“You look like Donald Duck’s worst cousin.” Eddie snickers into his fist.

“You done?” Steve puts his hands on his hips.

“For now.” Eddie shrugs. Steve huffs.

Steve keeps rooting through the piles on the floor--slow enough to be mesmerizing, but fast enough where he’s clearly looking for something specific. Oh, his vest. Laundry. Eddie scans the room until, aha--he spots it hanging over the back of Steve’s desk chair, smooth and loved. Striking, compared to the state of everything else. Eddie smiles before he can catch himself. 

“My vest is over there.” Eddie jerks a thumb towards Steve’s desk. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Steve gives him a perplexed look. He shakes his head and keeps drifting through the clothes. 

“Then what are you looking for?” Eddie ventures, stepping into the room properly. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t shrug his vest on. It feels like a conclusion of business, a visual excuse for Steve to kick him out despite the olive branch he’s inexplicably extended. 

“A shirt. Robin’s got a date to impress.” Steve sorts through a pile. He looks between a yellow sweater and a green one, sighs, and tosses them both aside. 

“By wearing…your clothes?”

“Yes, Munson, keep up.” Steve puts a hand on his hip. “She’s gonna be here eventually, probably freaking out, and I wanna give her two options. Just two. She’s gotta look good, but she’s gotta be comfortable.”

“Right.” Eddie nods slowly, as if this makes sense. 

“Hey, make yourself useful. I’ve got this shirt, uhm, dark blue? With a little stripe? If you find it, let me know.” Steve flaps a hand at him. Eddie knows precisely the shirt--it fits Steve distractingly well. 

“I’ll get right on that, sweetheart.” Eddie flops backwards on the bed. Steve shoots him a withering look. Eddie gives his most charming smile and folds his arms behind his head. 

God, he loves this part of their little dance. The way Steve looks at him, the undeniable fondness buried beneath the exasperation—it’s a thrill. 

Steve tugs at a shirt underneath Eddie’s body, but he can’t get it free. He heaves a belabored sigh. 

“Do you mind?” Steve’s eyebrow twitches. 

“Not at all. I’m enjoying myself immensely.” Eddie smirks. 

“If you stretch out my shirt, I’m gonna push you in the goddamn pool. Get up!” Steve jabs Eddie in the side. Eddie giggles and flinches violently.

Steve Harrington is looking at him as if he’s the best present he’s ever received, and while some deep and unacknowledged part of Eddie does flips at the sight, it’s terrifying. 

“Oh, this is too good to pass up.” Steve crawls onto the bed after him, his devilish grin curling wider by the second. Eddie’s face burns and he scrambles to flee, but Steve’s already on top of him. 

“Don’t you dare, Harring—aaah!”  Eddie’s soul and dignity flee him in a high-pitched shriek. 

“Holy shit. I’m barely touching you.” Steve staccato pokes him everywhere he can reach, quick and light, and Eddie can’t stop the giggles bursting from him in waves. He wants to think of something witty to say, but it tickles, and Steve’s smirking—it’s a lot to ask of man under these conditions.

Steve starts tickling him in earnest, his fingers skittering wherever they can reach. When Steve trips up his ribs, Eddie arches like he’s being hit with a defibrillator. He smushes his face into his hands, hoping maybe he’ll smother himself and they can call this a day, but Steve tuts at him and pulls his hands away from his face. 

“No way you’re this ticklish,” Steve says again—does he really need to rub it in—and gives Eddie’s sides a curious squeeze. Eddie shrieks and flips himself over, attempting to crawl towards freedom. 

“Where’re you going?” Steve drags Eddie back into place by his waist. He makes an incoherent whining noise that breaks off into laughter and goes limp on the bed. He tries to roll back over but Steve is solid on top of him. Being face-down gives him the small mercy of being able to hide his face while he cackles.

God, he didn’t even know that the back of someone’s ribs could be ticklish. Holy hell. 

Eddie grabs at Steve’s knee and releases a desperate jumble of syllables. Steve yelps and falls backwards off the bed.

Eddie peeks at him over the edge of the bed, laughter petering off into gentle embers. Steve stares up at him, wide-eyed. Eddie backtracks, trying to figure out why a simple touch would’ve elicited such a big reac—oh. Oh. 

Steve’s halfway down the stairs before Eddie even realizes he’s gone. 

“Hey! Get back here!” Eddie skids after him two stairs at a time, swiping at the back of Steve’s shirt. 

Eddie tackles Steve over the back of the couch, both of them a tangle of screeching, flailing limbs. Steve’s stronger but Eddie is scrappy, having long since abandoned his self-preservation instincts. Steve tries to roll them over and Eddie goes limp. Steve grunts under the deadweight, and it gives Eddie the two seconds he needs to clamber on top of him properly. 

“Now—“ Eddie finally wrestles Steve down, huffing a lock of hair out of his eyes— “What the everloving fuck was that?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s poker face is good, but Eddie can see right through that easy smile. He walks his fingers across Steve’s stomach. Steve inhales sharply. 

“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Eddie raises his eyebrows innocently. Steve narrows his eyes at him, but his fake smile is very slowly twitching into a real one. 

Spurred on, Eddie kneads into Steve’s stomach, gentle and a little clumsy. Steve trembles under him, wrenching a hand free just to cover his face. Little huffs and snickers wobble out of him. 

“Dishing out what you can’t take? Oh, this is precious.” Eddie snickers. Steve shoves his hand into the side of his face to push him away. Eddie licks it.

Steve screeches, but that breaks the dam. The first beautiful sound from him is a snort. Eddie gasps happily, then laughs right along with Steve. 

It’s not that Steve doesn’t laugh, he does, but it’s often the restrained chuckle that Eddie loves to give every royal NPC in his campaign. Eddie’s never heard anything like this, this bubbly rush littered with voice-cracks and little bouts of nose-scrunched hiccups. He didn’t know Steve was even capable of these kinds of noises.

The stupid little Scoops shirt rides up and Eddie takes advantage of bare skin. Steve squeals and goes boneless on the couch. He hits Eddie with the full brunt of his smile, unfiltered and radiant, and something in Eddie’s chest flutters. 

“EddieEddieEddie--” Steve snorts again, and the speed at which his face turns scarlet suggests embarrassment. Eddie can’t imagine why. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Eddie reaches behind him and finds Steve’s knee, tickling just where the goofy shorts stop, and Steve wails. He curls his head into Eddie’s chest and seems to resign himself to die there. Eddie has absolutely no feelings about how warm Steve feels or the desperate little leg kick he does. 

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrists and he relents, figuring the promise of future mischief is a sufficient tradeoff for a truce. Steve collapses back into the couch cushions with a delirious little giggle, rubbing his hands over his beaming face. Steve peeks at him overtop his hands, then snickers again. 

The longer they sit here, both breathing a little hard, the longer Eddie has to notice the gentle warmth and curve of Steve’s eyes. A hysterical man would call them doe-like. Eddie accepts this new state of being and leans a little closer. His guitar pick necklace dangles over Steve’s chest. Steve’s jaw falls slack, eyes flitting to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s hair falls in a frizzy curtain around them both. 

Eddie doesn’t see Robin so much as he hears her—the screech of disgust bounces off every wall. He pops his head up and they make direct, unfortunate eye contact. She shoots him an all-knowing look with her beady, accusatory little eyes and he gives her his most threatening zip it gesture. 

Steve decides that that’s the moment to counterattack, sending a cackling Eddie toppling off the cushions and onto the floor. Steve slides down after him, ducking under a flailing arm and scribbling his fingers wherever he can reach. Eddie curls up like a pillbug. He can hear Robin saying something but it's unintelligible over the sound of his own laughter.

“I know, right?” Steve grins back at her, then looks back to Eddie. Softly. 

Steve has the audacity to wink at him. Eddie files that little moment away for Tonight Eddie to scream into a pillow about, and instead focuses on launching a counter-counterattack that’ll save his life. 

[draconic-ichor]

Trying to figure out how to draw myself…for some artist insert memes and such

For context, my husband has endearingly nicknamed me “goblin wife”. So here’s a little goblin Draconic:

[paintedimagery]

What if I just started drawing exclusively prehistoric animals? What then?

[rfxn-emulator]

Warrior Coffee Date X-treme 2000 (Collectors Edition) 3am Gone Wrong!??1!? (Addendum Tuesday)

[explode-this]

Time for everyone’s favorite game show, Are The ADHD Drugs Still Working Or Am I Just Especially Depressed?, which may or may not feature the concluding sudden death showdown, Will Your Doctor Listen This Time Or Just Suggest Taking Vitamin D?

[palettepainter]

I've had some of the interview clips for Gorillaz playing in the background when I get home and I want to reiterate: when I say BASTARD MAN I EXCLUSIVLY mean MURDOC NICCALS from GORILLAZ

When I say bastard man I exclusively mean Murdoc from Gorillaz

[lovelybluebirdie]

What is yours

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: A stroll through the market evokes an unpleasant sensation in Astarion.

Word Count: 3,1k

hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff

[ AO3 ]

The warm rays of the midday sun bathed the markets’ goods in a marvellous light. The place was bustling, a scent of spices lingering in the air and hurried voices brimming. 

If someone had told Astarion that one day he’d be able to move around Baldur’s Gate so freely again, he’d probably huffed merely a dry laugh – and yet here he was, following you through the narrow streets of his city, admiring how much colour the world had to offer.

Of course it was you who had dragged him along for the mundane task to gather some food for your companions back at camp. Astarion couldn't care less to fill up their bellies, as his own appetite was perfectly stilled from your generosity when it came to offer him your blood, but one blink from your doe eyes had been enough to convince him to accompany you.

Well, that, and perhaps that warm feeling that refused to leave his chest when he was with you. 

It was obvious that you loved to stroll around the market, savouring the colourful impressions while taking a break from all the fighting and gore your journey to rid yourself from the tadpoles held for you. 

Astarion had never watched you spending your coin so lightly before. You probably thought it was time to treat yourself once in a while, and who was he to deny you this little pleasure? He had to admit that he actually adored seeing your face light up over the different trinkets you bought, eagerly filling your bags and pouches with your newest additions.

“Let's get some fruit for the others while we’re at it,” you suggested, pointing towards a merchant presenting an inviting range of fresh goods. “Something nutritious seems much needed after we fed mostly on leftovers for the past weeks.”

Your shoulders were loaded with the various goods you had already bought – dyes, herbs, some new toys for Scratch and the owlbear cub and a bunch of flasks to fill with potions.

“As you wish,” Astarion replied, when a display of weapons caught his eye. His last pair of daggers had become rather blunt from the Goblin throats he’d cut, so maybe it was time to treat himself as well, he thought and gently grabbed your wrist.  

“On second thought, why don't you go ahead while I'll have another look around here, my love?” he asked and came to a stop. “I haven't much expertise to add when it comes to your culinary needs, and those daggers look rather appealing.”

“Sounds fine with me, but try not to spend all of our gold at once,” you teased and squeezed his shoulder.

“Hah, you're one to talk. Please remind me, who was it again that just bought five new toys for Scratch, so he had a set of different colours to choose from?”

“He needs some variety,” you muttered, trying to keep up a serious expression. “But nevermind, see you in a minute then.” 

You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and waved, already on your way to spend some more of your coin.

Astarion couldn’t help but smile over your excitement for the market, before he picked up a dagger from the display in front of him. The handle appeared to be of higher quality than his current ones, and the blade looked sharp enough to inflict some hurt.

As he gazed further through the wares, pondering which one would fit him best, he spared a glance to check on you. 

He spotted you a few stalls away at the fruit stand you had mentioned. The vendor you were talking to gesticulated wildly while presenting his wares, leading you to laugh.

Astarion frowned and put the dagger away to take a closer look.

The vendor was young, an elf with blond curls, and Astarion noticed that he wasn’t an unpleasant sight. 

He was immediately bothered by the smile you gave the other man, the way he touched your hands as he started to offer you bite-sized pieces of fruit to taste.

His fingers lingered too long against yours for Astarion’s liking.

As he continued to watch you from afar, something inside his belly started to seethe – hot and ugly.

A feeling he experienced before when it came to you, but couldn't quite grasp.

Well, whatever this was, Astarion certainly wasn’t jealous. Not of some random street vendor at least – and why should he be? Because you had smiled so sweetly at him? Or because you were laughing again as you took another piece of fruit from his filthy hands? 

What in the nine hells could be so entertaining about buying fruit anyway? 

It was ridiculous, really, and yet Astarion imagined how it would feel to rip the vendor's throat as punishment for daring to touch you. 

Would he bleed out quickly? Would he scream?

Astarion shook his head, shoving the violent image aside.

He remembered the previous occasions when that unpleasant burning inside his stomach had appeared. It was the moment Gale decided it was appropriate to show you his so-called magical weave, or the other day when Wyll proposed a dance to you. You had kindly rejected both of them, but Astarion was still not particularly impressed by their interest in you. 

He knew what others would seek from you. Why they wanted you. For the same reasons he enjoyed being with you: your compassion, the kindness you spread. Your special talent to make him feel seen. 

There was also your wit, the way you would crack a joke even in the most maddening situations, making him feel light. And not to mention, you were a beautiful vision if Astarion had ever seen one.

Of course there would be others who saw those qualities as well, aiming to claim you.

A sudden wave of anxiety flooded his mind, moulding an appaling image in his skull.

He wondered if one day you would prefer someone else over him.

Someone who would match your kindness – acting all selfless and heroic, indulging in activities he found little pleasure in.

Providing you with something Astarion might be unable to give you, ever, no matter how much he cared about you.

Hells, what if you were already seeking someone like that?

His stomach dropped.

The dreadful notion spread its relentless claws past his ribs, tearing holes in his dead heart.

Blood rushed to his ears.

Before he even realised, his feet were already dragging him towards you.

He needed to be close to you – doing anything to make this feeling stop.

When he arrived next to you, he placed a hand on the small of your back and grasped your tunic, a little tighter than he'd intended.

He tried his best to keep his composure.

“Are we all done here, my love?” he asked, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh, Astarion!” You smiled when you noticed him, unaware of his musings. Your pouch was filled to the brink with fresh fruits. “Yes, I guess that would be all.”

Astarion felt the need to pull you away, but before he came up with an excuse to leave immediately, the merchant was already addressing you again. 

“Think about it, will you?” A smug grin plastered that man’s face as he spoke to you, casually bending over his counter.

Astarion gave you a confused look.

Think about what? 

“Unfortunately there’s no time to join the tavern tonight, but thank you for the offer. Maybe next time,” you said amicably and packed up your wares.

What was that? 

Astarion thought he must have misheard.

“What a shame. Perhaps you can give it a second thought.” The vendor was still beaming at you, before he turned to Astarion. “Your friend can come too, of course.”

“Oh, that sounds splendid. We will think about it, will we, darling?”

Astarion bit his tongue, swallowing the impulse to spit a cutting remark on top of his obvious sarcasm.

What in the nine hells was this mongrel thinking, inviting you to the tavern? And how he was speaking to him – as if he was some irrelevant bystander.

“Let's see what we can do,” you said politely, already on your way to move on. “Have a nice day. And thank you again.”

“You as well,” replied the salesman and waved. 

Astarion gritted his teeth as he followed you through the busy alleyways, still processing what just happened.

The vendor's words appeared in his mind.

That man had obviously desired to fuck you, and wasn’t even trying to hide his advances.

How could he have dared.

Astarion regretted that he had acted so passive in that moment. Usually he wasn’t one to hesitate, always a sharp comment dancing on his tongue, and yet… the thought of losing you to someone else had shifted something in him, turning him small.

His fury grew.

Oh, how he would love to grab that despicable pig by his throat, banishing that filthy grin of his face. Making him bleed. But he knew that unlike him, you would gladly refrain from a public bloodbath, so he shoved away those violent fantasies, even if the fire continued to seeth in him – unpleasant and hot.

He tried to fathom what posed the worst about this whole ordeal: The way in which the man had aimed to claim you, or his fear that you enjoyed those cheap advances – possibly were fond of it even.

Astarion's mood couldn't have been more sour as you arrived at a secluded area, away from the markets bustling.

“Can you believe it? That seller insisted on giving me a discount,” you broke the silence and pointed proudly at the wares you had gathered. “And they say there are no kind people left in Baldur's Gate.”

And just as the words had left your throat, Astarion finally snapped.

“Is that so?” he hissed, baring his fangs. “How generous. What a nice, handsome gentleman he is, also inviting you to the tavern with him.” He spoke harsh – his tone cold and venomous. 

You came to an abrupt stop, resting the groceries on the ground and fixating your gaze on his, a furrow between your eyebrows. 

“What are you implying?” You sounded puzzled.

“Oh, don't act so naive, darling, you know what I'm implying. That man wanted to bed you, everyone could see it from the way he treated you. And by the laughs you offered him, you seemed to enjoy his attention as well, did you not? What a flirt you are.”

His accusations left a taste of ash in his mouth. Moments before his anger seemed directed at the man’s advances, and now his bottled-up wrath was boiling onto you.

The bewildered look on your face turned into something else, something sad, your eyes losing their shine. He sensed that he must’ve hurt you, and it tugged at his heartstrings.

“So, you’re jealous of that man, is that what this is about?”

“Me? Being jealous of some filthy street vendor?” Astarion scoffed, immediately falling back to his dramatics, gesticulating defensively with his hands. “Don't insult me, darling. I find it amusing that he thinks he can have you, and I didn’t fail to miss your interest in him,” he bit, almost choking on the dry chuckle that spilled from his lips.

“There was no interest from my side, other than purchasing some of his wares,” you explained. Then you opened your mouth again, sharply sucking air between your teeth, before your gaze softened. Your voice was calm, without spite or anger. “He recognized me, Astarion. From the article in the gazette. Slayer of the evil Ketheric Thorm and all that fuss. Does that ring a bell?” 

Of course he remembered. It was him that had to sneak past those giant steel watchers back at the gazette’s building, convincing the magical press to print an article in your favour. An article that wouldn’t taint your reputation, unlike the one Gortash had commissioned to derogate you. 

Astarion couldn’t deny that after the praising piece was published, you were indeed met with an unusual kindness from the people of Baldur's Gate. 

“Well, how could I forget?” Astarion's face twisted. “But that doesn't mean he didn't have something else in mind with you. Some people certainly would love to bury their blade inside a true hero for once, I can imagine.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Even if he did want to bed me, what does it matter?”

An icy grip twisted Astarion's chest. The image of you with someone else stung in his eyes, making him sick. 

Before he could growl another reply, you rested your hand on his arm, catching his fuming. “Hey – look at me, you silly goose.” 

Your tender touch was enough to quell the blazing flame in his belly. 

You spoke so warmly to him. So... loving.

Astarion rested his eyes on you and was met with an affectionate smile that disarmed him completely.

“Astarion, don’t you realise that I couldn't care less if thousands of people felt the sudden need to bed me?”

He bit his cheek, remaining silent.

“You’re the only one I want, you jealous fool. No one else – not now, not ever, and certainly not some random street vendor that throws a discount at me because he thinks of me as some kind of hero.”

Astarion’s features involuntarily softened as he took in your words. The fury that was about to overwhelm him dissolved into a flutter, engulfing his chest, washing away the seething that hooked at his ribcage.

“Really?” Only one word left his mouth, before he cleared his throat. “I mean – I'm not surprised of course, as you seem to literally cling to my side these days.” A poor attempt to cover his insecurity, but the best he could muster.

“Really,” you assured and gently tapped on his temple, “I vow on the tadpole flooding inside our brains.” You chuckled as you rested your hands on the back of his neck and shifted closer to him. 

“Well, but those might be gone someday,” Astarion mumbled.

“And even then, I will remain at your side. Only if you want me to, of course.”

Astarion didn’t have to think of his answer, the words spilling from his lips like a reflex.

“Yes, I would want that,” he whispered sincerely, his flamboyant mask crumbling. “Look, it's not that I don't trust you. It’s just… Well, I guess I'm used to losing what I hold dear. And the thought of losing you to someone else… I don’t know, apparently it woke something in me.” 

He felt almost ashamed over his sudden lack of eloquence, being so raw with you, but there was a sense of relief in opening up. To his surprise, it was even more soothing than losing himself in violence.

You looked at him with affection and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. He closed his eyes and sunk against your palm. 

“It's alright, Astarion, you don't have to explain. I promise you, you won’t lose me to someone else. As you said, I tend to cling to your side these days, and truth be told, I have no intention to stop.”

“I hope you won’t,” Astarion replied and took your hand in his to press a kiss to your fingertips. “But honestly, I have to apologise for doubting your intentions with me. With us.”

“I forgive you, lover,” you replied tenderly. “I didn't take you for the overly jealous type, though,” you added with a smirk.

Astarion offered you a wry smile. “Let's not dwell on it, shall we?”

Then he reached for your face, softly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and rested his lips on your forehead, followed by a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull him into a close embrace. He could sense your heartbeat against his cold body, your pulse drumming in a comforting rhythm.

For a moment you were just holding each other, your head against his chest, Astarion relishing your warmth and kissing your hair. Your touch was relieving. Assuring.

You were with him, and had promised not to leave. 

Your affirmations repeated in his mind: You wanted him. Only him alone.

This was all new territory and Astarion sensed it would take some time for him to fully adjust, yes, but right now… this was all he could wish for.

“Somehow I don't want to let go of you, little love,” he hummed to your ear.

“Then don't,” you breathed and kissed along his neck, brushing his bite marks with your lips, sending a shiver down his spine. A particularly sensible spot, but you were allowed to touch him there.

Gods, how deeply he had fallen for you.

Astarion drew you even closer and sighed, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. 

When he gently peeled away from your hug, you looked up to him and bit your lip.

“Can I be completely honest with you?” you asked sheepishly.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“Well... I think that merchant truly wanted to bed me.”

Astarion laughed – deep, coming from his belly – surprised by his own lightness. The idea of fuming over your obvious admirer seemed almost ridiculous all of a sudden. 

“I told you so. But now that you see it too, I guess you wouldn't mind if we turn back for a quick chat? I would love to take care of that dear fellow,” he replied mischievously. While his fury was gone, he still wouldn’t mind some misdemeanour.

“Astarion!” you scolded, but joined his laughter. “Please spare that innocent man.”

“Relax darling, I will. For now at least. And only because you asked so nicely.” His fangs poked from the grin that adorned his lips.

“Good boy,” you teased and brushed one of his white curls behind his ear, his grin widening from your touch.

As you walked back to camp, hands softly entwined, Astarion noticed that probably for the first time in his life someone truly belonged to him – willingly, out of love.

You belonged to him. 

The thought grew in his chest, wandered up to his eyes, spreading affection through his entire body, and for the remaining way back to camp he didn’t let go of your hand.

Masterlist

[wellnesscard]

like dv and i have put ourselves in at home rehab we hid the tv in the closet and were eating food and making vision boards before our bodies actually pass away from this. i forgot alcoholism can be so dangerous but were getting too close to not being able to detox without medical help and thats a fucked up thought. in january 2021 we went sober for a while and the withdrawals were the worst i couldnt sleep just shake and sweat literally writhing in the bed for days i felt just like trainspotting. and like i was joking about it to my druggie friend and she suddenly was very concerned and it wasnt funny to her at all and i was like oh shitt i know its bad if you guys are getting worried. ach and booze makes u Fat so.

[opiopal]

More random things I thought about, probably counts as headcanons?? plus an imagine or two, most of these I thought of my own Mc so sry if it seems a little specific lol,

mammon can play the guitar, theres no reason for me to think this, I could just totally imagine him playing for Mc and its cute and cheesey:))

one time satan handed Mc a book and said that it was one of his favorites and that he highly suggested it!!! so Mc and him sat around for a while, and after about 20 minutes satan noticed Mc hadn't even gotten past the first page, and when questioned what was wrong, Mc shamefully put down the book and said "..... this is written in a language so dead its a fossil... But I tried to figure it out..." satan thought it was sweet they tried, but also a little dumb of them, still sweet though! so instead he read it out loud to them.

One time Mc hugged Mephisto, like big ol "you can't escape this" hug, he had most likely done something that made them very happy. he tried to play it off like he was upset about them doing it but it was obvious he adored the praise, (and the idea that it prolly pissed off lucifer)

Imagine a teen Mc and lucifer getting into a big fight, things are said and they have to sit away from each other to calm down. the brothers think it'll blow over but underestimate how much more determined T!Mc was to not apologize first. eventually Lucifer breaks cause Ik that stupid old man misses that stupid kid talking to him and being silly,(probably only after about half a month lets be fr) but it leads to just a cute little moment of communication

Thirteen has bitten solomon before, thats all, I have a strong belief that this beautiful woman(though I've only seen her once in game cause I cant progress for the life of me) has intense goblin energy, she seems very silly

imagine Dia slapping a noble with a smile on his face, as if that would ever happen in the history of ever, but imagine how SCARY it would be omfg, his cheery laugh complimented by the loud crack of his palm colliding with some rich bastards fake cheek bones

one time lucifer thought a nice b-day present for satan would be a kitten, since he'd proven that he is responsible.... and so did mammon... and levi... and asmo... so basically when gifts happen its the slow realization that they all got him the same thing as satan just gets happier and happier.

[calling-the-angels]

It's a narrow-minded view of what "oppression" looks like and turns the conversation into a competition about who is more oppressed or who is "actually" oppressed... with the added disgusting wish for someone to face MORE abuse because of their sexual identity. 🤨😒

It's actually depressing that in this day and age, we still have queers drawing lines in the sand of the LGBTQIA+ community instead of recognizing that we're all standing on fucking SAND and the tides are awfully threatening right now...

“I wish asexuals were as oppressed as they say they are.” = “I refuse to educate myself on how allonormativity negatively affects acespec people and how they are harshly treated (*abused) in an allonormative society.”

[choccy-milky]

A few months back, I asked if it was okay to write using Clora and Seb. Finished the work - thought I'd lost it on my hard drive and a virus scan located it.

Not sure if it's sad or happy, but the basic premise of it is Clora getting frustrated/upset at Sebastian and Sebastian comforting her, Sebastian getting upset at a predicament Clora's in and Clora comforting him, and them both getting frustrated/upset and having to comfort each other.

If you'd rather I didn't post it, that's fine too, but just wanted to test the waters and double check that you'd be okay with it if I gifted it to you via AO3, or see if you wanted a sneak peak of it before posting it.

OMG im so happy you were able to find it and recover the work you did!!😭🙏 AND YES OF COURSE YOU CAN POST IT AAA I CANT WAIT TO READ IT!! you can DM it to me first if you want, but i also dont mind if you post it straight away on ao3!! IM LOOKING FORWARD TO IT SM AAARGHHHA💖💖💖IT SOUNDS ANGSTY WE LOVE THE HURT/COMFORT I HOPE MY HEART CAN HANDLE IT🥺💖💖TY AGAIN FOR USING CLORA AND SEB AND TAKING THE TIME TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THEM😭

@sunshine-goblin AAA THANK YOU!!! im honoured its your fav fanfic AND ALSO THE LONGEST YOUVE READ BAHAHAA fr, when you say its as long as four books in lotr it rly makes me realize how insane i am😃👍 aw IM GLAD I COULD INSPIRE YOU TO DRAW MORE AND WRITE AS WELL😭 I was curious so i creeped you and everyone go look at their HL blog @sunshines-legacy your MC is so cute and so is your art🥹💖 as for tips on writing a longfic and brainstorming and motivation and stuff, my motivation was my brainrot and unhappiness with the canon story/ending LMAOO, and looking at the story of the game and playing around with what i was unhappy with/what i WISHED could have happened instead, was a lot easier than just coming up with plotlines from scratch. but something i highly recommend is just OUTLINING and making a timeline, one of my fav parts of writing was just putting on some cafe ambience in the background and doing stream of conscious type word documents where id just barf ideas and then worry about making it pretty later....like look at how many versions of the same chapter i have BAHAHA or like different renditions bc i couldnt decide if id wanna keep a scene/what order, so id make a timeline and keep smoothing things out until i was happy with it and whatnot

brainstorming is defs my fav part of the process and the most helpful part to me. just getting a blank document and writing stuff you want to happen without worrying about how it connects to the story, and then a lot of the times as i was doing that id just keep going and it would kinda tie itself together/id come up with a solution as i was writing / once the ideas kept flowing. so basically : TIMELINES AND OUTLINES I VERY MUCH RECOMMEND, but very low pressure and barebones ones. for example, this is what my outlines/brainstorming look like

its honestly just me talking to myself LMAO, and a lot of the time ill interject and be like "OH YEAH AND THEN THIS CAN HAPPEN" as the ideas come while im writing BAHAHA. its a super fun process and honestly nothing feels better than just getting hit with that flash of inspo, and since its all very low effort theres no pressure to actually write well and its just a chill fun time AND GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR OWN PROCESS / WRITING💖💖💖it can be difficult but HOPE U HAVE FUN TOO💖💖

@a-little-lysdexic WAIT REALLY?? LMFAOO OMG THATS CRAZY....SAME BRAIN...🤝🤝...that would trip me up so much if i were you omg BAHHAHA but aside from having similar tastes in names, IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY ART AS WELL, TYY💖💖💖

THANK YOUUU im glad you're liking it!!! and that its taking over your life BAHAHA💖💖 the video you're thinking of was by @silverxstardust for chapter 13 of my fic, and you can watch the video here! (AND TY AGAIN TO SILVERXSTARDUST FOR DOING THIS!)

[nebyneby]

I found this post on Reddit which shares some clips on the new English cast for Wakfu S4 and Oropo OVA

As French (and a huge fan of dubbing), I don't know much about the ENG DUB of the other seasons but I can give my opinion compared to what I know of the original version (It's just my opinion, if you don't agree, do your own):

Yugo - Isn't he supposed to be an adult? He sounds like a teenager whose voice hasn't broken yet, trying to sound deeper to appear more mature.

Atcham & Kerubim - They only appear for a few seconds, their role in the season isn't important. But it's fine (even though Atcham doesn't seem to have a lisp).

Dally - The basic voice of a Shonen main character, it suits him well.

Adamaï - The clip is short but I like it. Even though it sounds like he's purposely trying to come off as the "too dark" guy (The character himself doing too much).

Qilby - THE WORST!! There's no charm at all! They gave him the tone of a crazy whining old man. It's the same voice you give to goblins in fantasy movies T-T... It doesn't suit him.

Young Yugo - The clip is too short (like him :D) to have a real opinion

Coqueline - Not much to say. It's the typical little girl voice that many can do.

Grougaloragran - Probably the best! The voice and the acting really match the character well!

Bouillon - Mixed feelings, you can tell the actor is forcing his voice to sound tough, it doesn't feel natural.

Atone - Who likes him?

Oropo - I'm still unsure… but it's ok.

Toross - I really like it! The actor did a great job of capturing the terrifying and unsettling side of the character. But there's something extra in FR DUB that's missing in this one...

And you, what do you think? : )

Original post here

[girl-named-matty]

Hogwarts Legacy characters and my first impressions of them pt.1

Semi-in order of when you meet them.

Eleazar Fig: Cool guy, seems to care a lot about me so that's nice.

George Osric: This guy is TOTALLY the villain. Why would he just come out of nowhere and be acting so weird and like he doesn't want anyone else to hear what he has to say? (LOL sorry George 💀We all know how that ended)

Ranrok: Naww who is this- DID HE JUST KILL THAT GOBLIN?!

Professor Black: Annoying. Annoying, Annoying, Annoying. GO AWAY.

Professor Weasley: She's awesome, super sweet, and she's in Gryffindor and I'm in Gryffindor so that's nice. Oh, wait a Weasley???

Cressida Blume: She's cute. Has cute freckles.

Nellie Oggspire: I need to be her friend IMMEDIATELY.

Garreth Weasley: Oh this guys a cutie--OH SHOOT HIS LAST NAME IS WEASLEY.

Natty Onai: Her name is Natty... and mine is Matty... We now we HAVE to be best friends.

Professor Ronen: Oh, he seems like fun!

Sebastian Sallow: Woah wait why are they fighting. OH SHOOT IS THAT GINGER KID ABOUT TO DIE- Oh, never mind. Was this guy allowed to do that? Is he gonna bully me? Should I be suspicious of him? Oh, well either way he's kinda cute.

Professor Hecat: Oh, she's cool.😎

Lenora Everleigh: So cute and has a very beautiful name.

Sirona Ryan: An absolute queen. Gave me free butterbeer and she seems really considerate of the other shop keepers. Oh and she defends me so yeah absolute queen.

Victor Rookwood: Uhh who is this guy? Oh shoot wait is he supposed to be another villain? His top hat is kinda goofy ngl. Also what kind of a threat is "Can't drink butterbeer forever?". I don't know whether to be intimidated or to laugh. Maybe both?

Theophilus Harlow: MY EYEESSSSSSS! 😭😭😭 (Sorry but he looks nasty)

Professor Garlick: OH SHE CUTEEEEEEE.

Leander Prewett: Oh I HATE THIS GUY GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! SEBASTIAN SALLOW SAVE ME. PROFESSOR GARLICK HELP. (I promise I have changed my ways and I now love him)

Professor Sharp: OoOooo he looks intimidating but he is very handsome.

Amit Thakkar: CUTIE RAVENCLAW!

Andrew Larson: ANOTHER CUTIE RAVENCLAW! (throwing him in here now bc I'll tell you guys I didn't even know he had a name until like six or seven+ months ago so I got my first impression of him online LOL)

Lucan Brattleby: This kid looks fire. He's my little brother now and nobody can stop me.

Eric Northcott: He hasn't said a single word yet I do not like him. (Sorry Eric girlies)

Ominis Gaunt (1): Why does this guy keep talking to me in the hallways. Is he mad at me? WHAT DID I DO?! Oh, shoot wait is he blind? CAN HE SEE WITH HIS WAND??? DAWG THIS IS AWESOME. also he's really pretty.

Richard Jackdaw: Why does he look and sound exactly like Garreth? Is this another Weasley I don't know about?

Madam Kogawa: She looks cool. Kinda intimidates me tho and I have no idea why.

Everett Clopton: His voice is kinda annoying and we got in trouble but he did teach me how to go super fast on a broom so I'll give him that much.

Deek: AWWW I LOVE THIS GUY!!

Ominis Gaunt (2): WHY DID YOU YELL AT MEEEEE?😭IM NOT GONNA TELL ANYONE ABOUT THE UNDERCROFT I SWEAR. 😭😭

Percival Rackham: Don't like him. I don't know why but I do not like him.

Professor Howin: ...is that dodo bird actually gonna attack me or are you just saying that-

Poppy Sweeting: Aww she looks cute. She is very small but obviously that doesn't stop her from defending beasts from bullies LETS GO! Oh also she's got a cool hippogriff friend!

Imelda Reyes: Oh, I am going to beat her time by a LANDSLIDE just because she said that to me. (rivals to lovers fr)

Lodgok: Oh he seems really nice for helping us but should I be suspicious of his connections to Ranrok?

Gladwin Moon: Saw this guy earlier and he was acting weird. And now I figure out it's because of some statues. Can this school get any weirder?

pt.2 coming soon 👀

[facingreailitysgravity]

My here me out is the goblin from Halloween town

“Hear me out though!!” that is a conventionally attractive white man in a halloween mask. Any teenage girl with a wattpad account finds him hot.

OR OR

“Hear me out…” and it’s literally just a poc but animated