#that anything particularly well done and interesting is just going to be set dressing

[izzyspussy]

What is your wildest most batshit bonkers fic idea? Like dedicating the time to actually writing it would NOT be worth it but the idea still percolates on the back burner.

Well, the one where the losers gang bang Richie to pseudo-death so he can bring Stan's spirit back from the Macroverse via tantric sex and also Richie's half a virgin might still be worth it, but at this point I don't think it's happening.

[r0semaryt3a]

I’m working on a Phantom Troupe ask (one about the reader being the PT’s soulmate and hiding from them) but each bit is getting longer and longer so have a little taste of Chrollo’s:

Chrollo was never particularly interested in soulmates. There was no clear path to you, no set strategy for getting him where he needed to go; for a man always three steps ahead: Chrollo didn’t like that very much.

This predetermined destiny it bored him. The troupe gave him the ability to pick and choose where he wanted to go and how he wanted to do things. This soulmate speil didn’t. So, he wouldn’t let himself get wrapped up in it.

Or, that was until you probed his interest. No matter where he was, it was as if some unknown force was pulling you both apart. As if you didn’t want to be found. And that? Well that excited him. Now you were a heist, a thing to acquire, his shiny new trinket to steal. And you know Chrollo: he loves a good heist.

When he first met you, it was as if fate itself had smiled upon him. You’d dropped your guard; allowed the string binding your two souls to slacken. This happened to occur when he was in the area: dressed to the nines no less. A perfect facade, with you right at his fingertips.

Like I’m literally just about getting done with Feitan’s and starting Phinks’ and still have Machi, Paku, Shalnark, Hisoka, Uvo (if I can think up or anything) and the Troupe as a collective to get done

[that1-storyteller]

Every Little Experience <3

BLLK Boys (mainly Karasu) x ???? reader (Fem!)

Warnings: Foul language, uhm I’m not sure yet I’ll just figure it out along the way. Gory descriptions, heavily traumatized reader, biases against guys, sarcasm lol.

Blue lock. Two words. Two little words, and behind them was an opportunity of a life time. Uncle Ego Was hired by a woman he called Anri-Chan, to make the world’ s best striker. You may not know much about the sport, but you knew this was huge.

Ego always included you any anything he did, in some way or another. Though this was by far the furthest he’d ever gone to involve you.

You were going to work in blue lock with him. As his assistant. As great as it was to build up experience as a sixteen year old getting into tech and psychology, Ego was…less than ideal to work with. He was demanding to an absurd degree, great, right? In the end, he is your uncle and provides great experience and opportunities. It, in the long run, was worth it.

But you pissed him off, so your first day in the eerie ass building, you were stuck doing maintenance checks and cleaning. Fuck. All you did was rig his noodles…wasn’t that serious, damn… and karma was pretty instant with that prank, you tripped on the rug and face planted immediately after the trap was set. Your poor eye. Bruised on your first day of work.

Now, like the soon-to-be candidates of Blue Lock, you were stuck living there. You were allowed to have your phone, you had your own room, bathroom, etc. It was fairly nice compared to what you observed what the candidates were being treated with. You also, depending on how many tasks you did and how well the job was done, got to pick your meals. Courtesy of your uncle. You got to come in a few days prior to decorate your space as you wished, go over the rules, learn the layout, etc. It was an uncomfortably large building, to say the least.

The biggest rule, or at least the one Uncle Ego and Anri-Chan emphasized the most was,

Limit your contact with the players.

Easy enough. You had no interest in a bunch of (most likely) stuck up, narcissistic jocks who only care about soccer. To be fair, here they were literally fighting for their futures that revolved around soccer, it would be understandable to be desperate and focused, no? Like rats in a cage, attached to a man’s face with one side lit ablaze. Desperate, scared, and tearing into each other just to survive. A raw instinctual thing, really. Always enjoyable to observe…

Well, anywho, not people you’d want to interact with.

So here you were, setting each and every room to be perfect, all because Ego was petty over a prank.

Last quarters, team Z’s. Each sleeping bag was perfectly laid out, the bathrooms organized, towels folded. What a shame it would be, hard work waisted on slobbish boys… sigh. They’d be here tomorrow, and the experiment would begin. Hurray!

…

Your alarm blared in your ears, the sun rising, though you couldn’t see it. No windows, how unfortunate. You sluggishly dressed, very casual clothing for today, you decided. You threw on leggings and a large hoodie, putting on a smidge bit of make-up as well. It fit the occasion. Today you’d be greeting the candidates and handing them their…uniforms? Outfits? You weren’t sure exactly what to call those uncomfortably skin tight data collectors. The word would come to you later, you were sure.

This was the only time you were allowed to purposely converse with the subjects- er hmm, “diamonds in the rough”, as Uncle Ego called them. In your eyes, they were kind of like lab rats. Soccer gods in the making, was a nice way to put it. Poor boys didn’t know what was coming, you felt….only slightly guilty to be apart of their torment. Only slightly.

…

Through the doors they charged, a large herd of brawny, muscle-headed, boys.

“Anri-Chan, I don’t particularly wan’t to be the one to take their phones. It’s like taking crack from an addicted drug dealer, bad news. I fear they’ll bite me, males my age are a bit peculiar, no?”

Anri laughed, finding your bias against guys hilarious. As well as the way you spoke, so odd for a sixteen year old. So amusing to her.

“Y/N! They won’t bite! God, what, do you think they’re wild animals?”

“They may as well be,”

She snorted.

Guy after guy retrieved his suit and info. Many grumbling about the rules, some refusing to giving up their addiction device. After some fierce battles and trickery, they gave it up. Willingly or not. Then navigated their way to their rooms. A sweet looking boy walked up, eyes wide with …maybe it was anxiety, or just uncertainty? You couldn’t tell, maybe a mixture of both.

“Hello Miss, I’m sorry but I don’t know where I’m going, I’m not great with direction. Could you help me? Oh god, am I being a bother? I shouldn’t have asked, I’m so sorry!” He was so quick to panic…

“Hey, hey, don’t fret, you aren’t a bother dear. It’s my job to help, let me guide you,” You baby talked him a bit, it oddly felt necessary with his anxious, meek demeanor.

You waved to Anri, letting her know you’d be gone, and walked with the anxious boy. He was muscular, obviously so. You found humor in how anxious he was for someone who could’ve easily beat the ever-loving crap out of anyone. He had short brown hair and eye-catching forest green iris’s. You found them lovely. They were large and noticeable, very cute. If only he’d stand straight, with correct posture he’d be tall, definitely would help him in the long run. More attractive, even…

“What team are you assigned to, dear?”

“Team A, I-I’m Tokimitsu, by the way…” He stumbled over his words, his nerves messing with him oh so obviously. He fidgeted around with his fingers. Poor guy probably needed therapy and meds.

“I’m Y/N, nice to make your acquaintance, Tokimitsu-sama. What led you to be here? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

He ranted a bit, he seemed to loosen up after you gave a conversation starter. He kept spewing soccer facts like it was his job, very cute. His love of soccer was impressive, but so would be everyone else’s. It would have to be, to end up in Blue Lock. You listened to him ramble as you showed him to his team’s room, adding your thoughts here and there.

…

Every so often people would catch your eye, their hairstyles, accents, outfits, posture, etc. Many unique and out there, those of which you loved to observe. Though, the comments from the tall, tan, blonde guy with pink ends were definitely not necessary…soccer perv.

Someone who really caught your eye, was a purple haired boy. He had a cute mole by his eye, hmm. You couldn’t find a perfect word to match it with. Made you feel weird, in a pleasant way. He was tall, as were many of the participants here, an air of confidence clung to him. Though, you had a feeling… mmm… maybe you were overthinking him. Over analyzing. When he spoke, oh when he spoke…sharp, intellectual, pleasant, hell it soothed a part of your brain you didn’t know needed soothed. Oddly everything about him tugged at your heart. What the fuck. He wasn’t even really polite, his gaze seemed judging. The same gaze you laid upon other people. The people you often deemed boring and a waist of time. Now on you. The look, about to title someone mediocre. You knew it, so similar to your own… He was so….interesting. Made your brain buzz with thought mere moments after laying eyes on him. If you were to struggle to not converse with any candidates, it would be him. Your brain wandered to the wonderful conversations you could have and analyze. Oh, and his eye’s fought yours as well. You thought Tokimitsu’s were nice, but this boy’s took lovely to a whole new level. Breath taking. Enchanting, if you dared. His hair reminded you of something, you just couldn’t think of it at the moment…a certain animal. Hmmm.

“Hey Miss, why should I hand over my phone to you, you don’t look particularly responsible. What if you lose it, or damage my property? Hm?”

You blinked and snapped out of it.

“I’m only following orders. If harm were to come to your addiction device of devil, then you’d be fully repaid. You’d receive a new device as well as money.” You gave a slightly irritated smile. Though he was charming, he’d be a pain in the ass. Much like how you imagined how doing his hair in the morning was. “Please hand it over, sir-“

“Tabito Karasu,” He interrupted.

“Mr. Karasu, then.”

He handed it over and you gently placed it in the bag, so he was reassured it was fine. Though, you suspected he didn’t actually care all that much.

“You certain you’re qualified to work here?” You’re sure he’s referring to your casual outfit, sure it wasn’t fancy like Anri’s but why would you get dressed up to greet a bunch of lab rats? Hm?

“Very.”

Oh, what an interesting experience this was going to be.

Pt.1 |Pt.2 Coming soon!|

[slytherinshua]

⌇ 　OF DOUBTS AND MISTAKES 　( 조승연 )

genre exes to lovers , second chance , kinda angsty but hopeful ending , sort of 1800s au but not rly historically accurate , based on abyss lyrics/mv but not super accurate to the songs meaning obv , woodz x fem!reader   cw seungyoun self-loathes a lot , pretty much a lot of description of depression symptoms and behaviours , a verse from proverbs sprinkled in there cause it felt right , not proofread   wc 1470   request yes   note idk if any of my woodz fics will ever be just simple fluff because his songs and personality just inspire the angst/deeper meaning fics in me but quite happy with this wrote it all in about an hour hehe   net @kstrucknet

Seungyoun was scared of many things. It felt like every day was spent barely clinging on, trying to distract his mind from thinking of the past. He hadn’t always been scared. In fact, he used to feel fearless. He never once thought he would one day be so paralyzed and stagnant. 

He was apprenticed to a librarian several hundred miles west of where he once lived. Studying history and preserving ancient books. It was never something he was truly interested in. But, it was a generous offer and he wasn’t likely to find anything better for years, so he took it up. He found his life dramatically shifted in the course of a few weeks. 

He once spent his days in town, riding horses and doing trade with visitors from neighbouring towns. He was carefree and full of life and love. Now, he spent every day cooped up in an old library that smelled like parchment and ink, sorting through century old texts and copying them down to new volumes. He was lucky to get a few words in conversation throughout the day with his master, an older man senior to him by over 50 years. Seungyoun felt like he had a lot to learn from him, but his words were few and advice given both sparingly and cryptically. 

The library never got many visitors. There were some servants who would come to pick up books for their masters, or a few ambitious young men hoping to study the greats to further their own success. There were rarely any women who came to the library. Certainly not from far away towns. And in no way was there ever anyone who Seungyoun knew from his life before.

Until one quiet afternoon when Seungyoun was staring out the window and a customer came in. The customer being you.

On that particular day, Seungyoun wanted to disappear. He didn’t want to run away or particularly go back, but simply disappearing from reality would be his best bet. He stared out at the lush green gardens that surrounded the old library. He was allowed to go out whenever he pleased, but he had locked the door shut from the inside and didn’t intend to set foot along the trails or smell the flowers. Perhaps it would have done him well to get fresh air and clear his head. Getting a break from the overwhelming musty smell of the warm library and feeling a cool breeze through his hair. But still, he stayed put in his chair, flipping mindlessly through a book on philosophy until his peace was disturbed.

“You really wanted to leave me and everything else behind for this? I thought whatever you seemed so eager to go after four years ago must have been something truly spectacular. I hate to say you’ve disappointed me once again, Cho Seungyoun.” You didn’t hold back in slamming him with all the hurt feelings his leaving had left you with. Now was not the time you wanted to sound desperate or loving. You were angry at him, and you wanted him to know that.

Seungyoun’s eyes lifted to your face slowly, processing if this was actually real life and not just another one of his daydreams. But there you stood in front of him, arms crossed stubbornly in a very unladylike way. You were dressed plainly, but your beauty always overshadowed anything you wore. You never needed the elaborate dresses and precious jewelry that other ladies sought after. You would always command the attention of everyone in the room with just your presence. And you were certainly commanding Seungyoun’s attention with just a few stern words. 

His heart thumped a bit faster in his chest and guilt creeped through his entire body, touching every nerve. What was he even supposed to say to you? What could he possibly pull at to earn your forgiveness? 

“Y/n.” Just the mere uttering of your name had his lip quivering in uncertainty. What used to fall from his lips almost on instinct suddenly felt unnatural and wrong. Like you were too above him for him to even attempt to speak a word to you anymore. Why did you come to see him when he was so clearly worthless in comparison to you?

“Well? Will you just sit there all day? You must know I haven’t come to buy books on poetry.” Your glaring eyes did nothing to help the young man’s nervousness. He had seen you give that look to others before. He had always laughed with you after, discussing their faults in a carefree way. Now he was on the receiving end. He couldn’t possibly have felt more embarrassed. 

But he forced his body to stand regardless, following you a few paces behind as you led the way out to the gardens. He had no idea why you were there in the first place, or what you hoped to achieve by visiting him again. Was it just to laugh at how far he had fallen? Surely there was no way you wanted him back in your life.

“Did you think all that time I spent with you meant nothing? For you to throw it away for a simple apprenticeship?” You implored him pointedly, determined to get an answer out of the man. His words seemed to get stuck in his throat. He closed his eyes, head falling slightly. Whether out of thought or out of shame, you weren’t sure. 

“Talk to me, Seungyoun. I didn’t come all this way for nothing.” Your voice was gentler this time, prodding him for an answer in a more inviting, less demanding way. He wasn’t sure why you were still being forbearing with him. He was well deserving of your frustration.

“I don’t know what to say. You want me to explain myself and defend my actions, but there is no possible explanation I could grasp that would paint me as anything less than a fool. That is what I am, Y/n. I cannot pretend to be happy with my choices. They have led me to a fruitless future. I will be secure in life, yes, but I know I won’t be living.” 

He had finally found his voice again, and you stared at him as he talked. First his words were tentative. They quickly grew more clear as his narrative took a turn to self-loathing. Your suspicions these past years were proven right in a single minute, and once Seungyoun finished talking, you both stood in silence. The weight of his words laid heavy on your shoulders. 

“If you are a fool, then I am your equal. Tell me truly, do you still think about me?” Although you were partially scared to hear his answer, you desperately needed to. There was no denying that you still longed to mean something to him. Maybe you had learned nothing from the past. Maybe you were making an even bigger mistake. 

Hope deferred makes the heart sick. A line that had never struck you more closely than in the last four years. You had started to live by it. A longing fulfilled is sweet to the soul.

“There has not been a day you didn’t cross my mind.” Seungyoun’s words were simple but sincere. For the first time since you had stepped outside, he dared to meet the gaze of your eyes again. His ebony eyes, so captivating and sorrowful at the same time. Swirling with hopes long lost and dreams being rekindled. You could stare at them for a lifetime. 

“Then hear me when I say that I want to be with you. I am choosing you over every other.” You stepped closer, grasping his hands with your own. 

You knew it was entirely improper. Seungyoun was hardly a gentleman. He would not be able to offer you riches like your past suitors. But what he could offer was something you valued far more. Happiness. 

Seungyoun swallowed his emotions, preventing them from crashing over him like a wave. 

“You are settling for far less than you could—”

“On the contrary. I am not settling for anything. You are not worthless to me.” Your words were so earnest that Seungyoun was unable to ignore them despite his first instincts. You truly meant everything you had said.

“I’m scared I will disappoint you again. If—” 

You cut him off once again, silencing him with a chaste kiss. His heart felt unsteady, his body in a battle with his mind. He wanted to be with you. It was all he ever wanted. He had never figured out how to stop the restless thoughts in his mind, battering his ego and self-worth. You had silenced them with one simple kiss. All at once, he felt at peace again.

“Just stay. That is all I ask of you.” 

misc taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,,

@seunghancore,, @emmylksblog,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @chenleszone,,

@cupidslovearrows,, @hursheys

[adobe-outdesign]

in honor of international women’s day, could you review some royal neopets (since all women are queens?)

(Royal has a lot going on with it, as there's not only the usual customized vs UC designs, but also the royal boy vs royal girl designs on top of that. For purposes of this review I picked out royals where both genders look great, but let me know if you guys would be interested in seeing a royal girl/royal boy-specific review.)

Royal is one of the more complicated Neopets colours, having special art and poses pre-customization and having a gender split on top of that. Normally I'm not big on gender splits as a whole for being overly cis, but I'll forgive it in this case because it is actually possible to get a female royal boy pet and vice versa through lab ray shenanigans. Customization also allows for clothes to be swapped around at will.

One thing that I always found strange about royal as a colour is that it oftentimes doesn't really match up with anything lore-wise. For example, Blumaroos come from Roo Island, and their leader, King Roo, is vaguely dressed like a jester because Roo Island is the happy-go-lucky fun land. Makes sense! But then the royal Blumaroo colour is... space themed, for some reason?

It's not that the colour literally needs to match up with actual Neopian leaders all the time, of course; it's just that sometimes the choices made feel random and ill-fitting for the species.

Another instance of this is in the royal pets that are based off a specific country/region. I do like the diversity in not having all pets share that Meridell-esq European look, but sometimes it does make me raise my eyebrow. Like, where in Neopia is "Mongolia", exactly?

And in terms of customization, royal pets generally got hit pretty hard. Previously, royal pets were bipedal, and many of them had subtle anatomically changes to give that them royal look. It's not even that royal pets just got converted in general, but many of the conversions seem very poorly done—such as the poor Aisha above, which inexplicably lost an entire set of ears. Like I said, I like the ability to trans our Neopets easier, but that's about the only benefit.

Favorite Species:

Skeith: One common problem with royal pets tends to be that the royal girl and royal boy look completely different, with one of them (usually the male) looking significantly better. Thankfully, the royal Skeith do not have this problem, with both male and female sharing a white base with a subtle accent color and similar-but-distinct sets of clothing. The Alice in Wonderland inspiration is also very fun, and feels supper fitting for the species. Great stuff.

Kyrii: I already went over these designs in my Kyrii review so I'll keep this short, but the UC/styled royal Kyrii are just fantastic designs all around. The squarer head shapes than normal give them a very elegant look, and the designs make full use of the Kyrii's distinctive long manes (not to mention the old BD poses, which were just delightful). The only drawback is that the converted versions are particularly bad, to the point where I'm not even bothering to show them here to save space.

Peophin: Something about underwater royals just tend to hit, and the Peophin is no exception. The species already has their distinct head ornamentation, but the royals take it a step further by adding extra jewels and extending it over the ears and head fins, then accenting it with even more additional jewelry. I also really like the robes, which feel surprisingly natural for their body shape. Beautiful all around.

BONUS: Remember how I was saying that a lot of royal designs feel random and ill-fitting for their species? The royal Koi avoids this completely by basing the royal boy design off of King Kelpbeard, the ruler of Maraqua. Once again, both designs here are well balanced and go well with each other, and I like the degree of underwater elements—coral crowns, seaweed accents, and pearl necklaces.

(Side note: a very honorable shoutout goes to the royal Mynci and Flotsam, which didn't quite make the cut but are still excellent designs.)

Least Favorite Species:

Moehog: Most royal pets are at least interesting, but I can't say that about the poor royal Moehog, which is mostly forgettable; just the standard clothing that you'd expect from royals. The royal boy is slightly better, at least sporting a nice dark blue base, but the royal girl has a very "cheap" design, like it's wearing a Halloween costume instead of actual royalty. The royal Moehog never got a UC option, but they did have pre-customization designs that were slightly better–but only slightly.

[raptorfae53]

Monster High Reimagined: Heath Burns Character Bio/redesign.

Heath Burns (He/Him)

(Paraguayan-American)

Boitata child of the burns family.

To the average eye,Heath is not the…sharpest tool in the shed,an overly excitable would-be casanova whose desire to impress often leads to him making a fool of himself,exactly the last person you'd think to give the flammable powers and responsibilities of the Boitata. But although an exuberant literal wild child, there's more than a few dimensions to him, most more apparent out in the wilds and nature than in the classroom…

Likes: Being in nature,wildlife,flame print,girls (particularly girls taller than him) and s��mores and other such campfire foods.

Dislikes: Environmental damage and destruction,colder weather, boring or tedious activities,being ignored when chatting,and people being two-faced.

Killer style: nothing but the coolest fashion for this fire spirit! We're talking bowling shirts,chain jewellery, and flame patterns on everything! (For the uninitiated reader, he dresses like Guy Fieri, and nobody has the heart to tell him, heath wouldn't mind regardless)

Familiar: none, besides the whole fire thing heath has no desire to keep animals as pets,he prefers nature wild,free and chaotic,like himself.

Pet Peeve: Seemingly always ending up a laughing stock in his frequent attempts to prove himself as cool,suave or funny as he'd like,Heath laughs it off with the rest of them but it stings nonetheless…

Freaky Flaw: Impatience,at least in man-made settings. Heath…has never done particularly well in a classroom setting and is usually desperate to get anything paperwork related done in a flash to get back to more interesting affairs, his attempts to remedy that being not as well thought out as he likes and usually getting him into more trouble than they were ever worth in the first place!

Spooky Secret: heath can tell his peers are saying stuff behind his back and don't respect him as much as he wishes, and far from his seeming obliviousness to it all it irritates him greatly, that goes for those gossiping about that cute Yeti girl too, she's not scary she's just trying to be friendly!

Dream job: Wildlife ranger,wildlife photographer or anything that gets him out in nature and not cooped up indoors, going to cool places and learning and helping all sorts of cool animals,plants and other such forms of life!

Five Fearsome facts:

Like the rest of his species, Heath's actual form resembles an anaconda made out of living fire. As cool as he and his friends do think this form is, heath takes a humanoid form (albeit one with golden skin and flames for hair) to better navigate society and/or not scare the living daylights out of regular humans.

In turn, heath is capable of controlling said fire with pyrokinesis, or at least he's training to,getting too overexcited tends to end with anyone nearby getting their hair singed as he's come to learn.

Befitting his species original role and bewildering his colleagues used to his airheaded personality,heath is a staunch environmentalist ,striking up a friendship with Venus over their shared interest and collaborating often with the plant monster on various efforts as part of monster high's environment and gardening clubs.

Heath is trilingual in English, Spanish and Guarani, having grown up in a household fluently speaking all three. Recently a pastime of his has been practising the fundamentals of a fourth language to properly chat to a girl in his year,as she's clearly more confident talking in her mother tongue instead of English and Heath would love to get to know her better…

Whilst being made out of fire might seem like a surefire reason to stay away from swimming pools ,heath is an adept and seasoned swimmer, if only his exuberant nature didn't turn every pool he's ever been in into a simmering,steaming hot tub!

Hello again to the second profile of seven this spooky season (I know its still September but personally summer doesn't quite agree with me yknow,bring on Halloween!)

Compared to Abbey, (whose inspiration is well known by most people in the mh fandom) what exactly Heaths monster type and inspo is a little less well-known, so there's some explanation down below regarding exactly that!

Anyways,hope you enjoyed this profile, and see you next week for the next one. (It's going to be one I should've done a while ago tbh,if that's any clue...)

Anyways,regardless of all that, you probably have one primary question on your mind.

What's a Boitata, and why is Heath one?

In regards to the first question, a boitata is an Amazonian nature spirit that takes the form of a giant flaming snake and which protects the animals and plants of the forest from harm. The Boitata is from Guarani mythology, who live primarily in Paraguay and the surrounding countries, hence why Heath is from a trilingual Paraguayan family.

And to answer the second question, like toralei before him, I dont like the whole fire elemental thing, and him being a demon/hellborn goes against one of the fundamental rules I set myself regarding what monsters the monster high characters are based on. No Abrahamic Demons,Angels,direct children of Gods ,Aliens (bar one,but we'll get to them later) and no bigfoot because I thought it'd be funny if that were where i drew the line.

So I had a look at some of the other fire based monsters, and the boitata, in particular, simply caught my eye. (+ the environmental protector thing I thought fit Heaths g3 personality, as all things considered my version of him is a mix of g1 and g3 in terms of design and personality instead of purely one or the other...)

Also for better reference here's a collection of different renditions of the creature to give a better picture:

[olderthannetfic]

Subject: "hanfu" pet peeve

Since the discussion has spread out across multiple posts, I figure I'll summarize and add on my thoughts here. To reiterate, I don't like the usage when it's meta and breaks immersion. I dislike it for the inaccuracy and, more importantly, for the othering. If I didn't sufficiently hammer on that last bit, I'm doing it now. Do I blame fic writers for thinking they are very educated using the word? No. I gnash my teeth without comment when I see it happen, and I look elsewhere for escapist entertainment. Though I've since left the fandom, I do still check back from time to time.

There may be instances where the word fits very well. I tend not to read fic where that may be the case. I don't particularly care for fic about the actors getting into costume, for example. Potentially I could be interested in reincarnation fic, in which the modern-day protag gets flashbacks from touching an antique from their former life, but that's besides the point. I generally stick to the canon setting, where I also don't want to be told that all conversation is in Chinese. I already assume it is.

Telling the reader these things may not be redundant to some people, but it is to me. It ruins the flow. And besides, "hanfu" doesn't really specify which article of clothing. Not that there's anything wrong with being vague. It's perfectly fine to tell the reader that so-and-so has gotten dressed or disrobed without getting into the details. Often the way it's used could easily be replaced by "robe" (or "robes" plural) from what I've seen. If they're not referring to the full ensemble, they usually mean the outermost layers. If there are any instances in which "hanfu" is used to indicate trouser legs or underwear, I have yet to see it.

The point is, I'd prefer people use whatever least obtrusive term fits for what they're trying to say, unless they're prepared to be both accurate and precise with their terminology. I certainly don't expect the effort. It was just a suggestion based on what I've seen done elsewhere. Tangentially, everybody who hasn't yet ought to go watch Nirvana in Fire. (It's only, uh, what's the runtime again? And that's with a rushed epilogue, too.) But please! If you get the itch to write, leave out the mention of you know what -_-

--

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Haha.

(This thought brought to you by my love of the "Yin-Yang Master" franchise.)

[changelingsandothernonsense]

11, 24, 31! (Elder scrolls oc asks)

Hi there! I'm going to answer for Erra Ilaba'andul, this time around. 11. What does your OC's daily/nightly schedule look like? Do they have any routines? Erra, prior to joining forces with the Nerevarine would usually wake up in his rented room at the Andus Tradehouse (or his yurt if hes on the road) and immediately start getting dressed so that he can start with his day. He usually lightly bathes with a basin and cloth before he dresses in his armour. Once he's done he'll usually try getting himself breakfast, usually a saltrice porridge if its available or if he's on the road, something that he's hunted and prepared for the road. If he's got work that he can do, then he'll immediately start with that, if however he doesn't have work lined up, he'll usually tackle whatever chores need doing. This typically involves armour repairs, washing linens etc. He'll check Maar Gan's Temple noticeboard for word on Blight attacks but if theres nothing for him to pick up as the sun's setting then he'll head back to the Tradehouse and have his dinner at his usual table on the ground floor. He'll usually read any letter's he's been delivered, write back or reread old ones- particularly if they are from a certain mer who holds his heart. He'll usually do this with a pipe packed with kreshweed to relax him. He'll then head back to his room, bathe properly and sleep. 24. What moral boundaries does your OC have? Have they ever crossed them? What happened? A large component of Ashlander culture is raiding frontier towns and taking tribute. It is a practice that had initially involved taking goods, gold etc. but as the Blight became more widespread and things started getting desperate, the raids would turn far more violent, with women and children also being taken and sold to Telvanni slavers or simply slaughtered. Erra has only participated in one such massacre, and that was what made him leave the wastes and settle in Redoran Lands. He can't fit in with his people (for more than just that raiding reason) so he's gone to find greener pastures so to speak. Erra won't do anything that doesn't feel like his most authentic self. That includes the cultural expectations placed upon him by his tribe. He won't live a lie, choosing exile over marriage to a "nice well named girl" and settled life over the killing and selling of innocents. 31. Your OC is packing for a day-long trip on the road. What is in their travel bag?

Erra has an enchanted pack that helps with carry weight as well as a guar he keeps in the stables named, Kušû (crocodile). So he carries quite a bit with him. Usually he'll bring his single yurt, supplies for camp, alchemical supplies, food and his folder of pressed plants. He grew up in the northern ash wastes so any plant that is brightly coloured is something he takes interest in.

A Mostly Very Specific Elder Scrolls OC Ask Game

[jennycalendar]

i'm not going to be posting this to ao3 until i know what i'm going to do with it, so for now, have it as a special tumblr preview: xander and sonia's first meeting in the 'verse of what you make!

(for those who would like to read this without the larger context, all you need to know is that this takes place post s7, and xander is working for a new iteration of the watchers' council in a slayer-locating capacity.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girls he met reminded Xander of Buffy in a way that made his chest hurt a little. Though their responses to their calling varied widely, they were always remarkably unremarkable—always concerned with how this would impact their homework, their time with their friends, their bid for Prom Queen—and it always made him think about how Buffy had looked, holding those pom-poms with her chin jutting out. She had been so determined to still be normal, not yet knowing how hard the world would make it to just be.

They were trying to make it better for the girls. They were. But the New Council was still in its baby stages, and the loose framework they’d set up wasn’t always enough to convince the girls that they wanted to join up. Most of their fledgling resources were being devoted to making sure that the little Slayers weren’t going to be walking demon magnets, whether or not they were actually planning to take a stand against said demons. And the worst part was that Xander couldn’t even blame the girls for not wanting this kind of a life. Who would?

Well. Him. But he’d chosen, and they hadn’t. Buffy had wanted to give the girls a choice, and that was what was happening. Two girls of the seven he’d met had chosen, and done so with youthful exuberance that had torn a little at Xander’s heart. More often than not, excited optimism about a calling like this one was a recipe for disaster.

“Are you here for anything?” said the secretary archly.

Xander blinked, shaking his head a little to clear it, before giving the secretary his best winning smile. “Can you, uh, call Sasha Rivera up to the office?” he asked.

The secretary gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look. “No, I cannot, uh, call Sasha Rivera up to the office,” she said. “For one thing, it’s the middle of the day. She’ll be in class. For another—”

“Yeah, see, I’m here on business,” said Xander, flashing his official Council ID in the secretary’s direction. “Our organization wants to recruit Sasha for—”

“What organization?”

“We’re a lot like a Gifted and Talented program.”

“Are you a lot like a Gifted and Talented program, or are you a Gifted and Talented program?”

“Look, I talked to the principal on the phone,” said a bemused Xander. “He said he’d be fine with me sitting down and talking to Sasha about some of the opportunities our organization offers. Is there some kind of a problem?”

Before the secretary could answer, a well-dressed older guy rounded the corner, bustling with cheerful importance. “You must be Alexander Harris!” he said, clapping Xander particularly hard on the back and smiling with unctuous importance. “Welcome, welcome! And thank you ever so much for your charitable donation towards the restoration of our gymnasium! Not that money is tight here, of course it isn’t, but we can always improve upon the existing infrastructure, can’t we?”

“Uh,” said Xander. The secretary was still staring daggers at him for some reason. “Yeah?”

“Splendid,” said the guy, who Xander was now starting to recognize from the briefing packet that Willow had sent them. Principal Tom Sanders. Kind of an asshole, interested primarily in the care and keeping of money, possibly embezzling but nobody had been able to make charges stick just yet. The important thing was getting him to let Xander have a conversation with Sasha, which had been pretty concerningly easy the minute that Xander had made a “charitable donation” to the school. This really wasn’t helping Xander’s feelings about principals in general. “Sophie, why don’t you call Sasha up to the office?”

The secretary’s lips pursed. She stabbed a few buttons on her phone with particular violence, then spoke into the receiver. “Would Sasha Rivera come up to the front office, please?”

“Try to smile a little while you do it, why don’t you?”

“Oh, hey, that’s really not necessary,” said Xander uneasily.

The secretary looked up at Xander and smiled—all teeth, and particularly unpleasant. Xander’s heart flipped over. “Thank you for your charitable donation to Silverfish Middle School!” she said, making charitable donation sound like extremely contagious butt rash. “Sasha will be with you posthaste. Will anyone be looking into making sure she has access to the lesson plan for the time she misses in class?” she added towards the principal.

“Why don’t you ask me that when you’re not on the clock?” said the principal pointedly. “There’s gotta be a separation, Sophie. As my secretary, your job is to make sure Mr. Harris here is able to meet with Sasha Rivera, and frankly, it’s hard for me to see why you wouldn’t be over the moon about her having an opportunity like this.”

“An opportunity a lot like a Gifted and Talented program?” said the secretary.

“Sophie,” said the principal.

Clearly there was something going on here that Xander was missing. He was just about to ask some kind of clarifying question when a girl stepped into the office—tall, gangly, dark hair in two big poofs. “Is everything okay?” asked Sasha Rivera, holding herself in a way that was somewhere between anxiety and defensiveness.

“Sasha, you’ve got a visitor!” said the principal brightly. “This is Mr. Harris of—what was it?”

“The New Council,” said Xander.

“The New Council!” said the principal, clapping Xander on the back again. Xander lurched forward and almost rammed into the wall. “He’s here to talk to you about an amazing academic opportunity that he believes you’re perfect for.”

For some reason, Sasha’s eyes flitted to the secretary. “An academic opportunity,” she said, drawing out the words. “That I’m perfect for. Me.”

The secretary pinched the bridge of her nose.

“…Do you mind if we use your office?” Xander asked the principal.

“Oh, no, go ahead!” said the principal jovially. “Anything at all for such a generous—”

“Great!” said Xander. “Thanks. Sasha, could you come with me for a second?”

“Okay, you know what, I am at my limit,” said the secretary, standing up at her desk with fire in her eyes. “Tom, my name is Sonia, not Sophie, and this is not the way you run a school. Do any of us have any idea who this man is or what his program is espousing? Just because he hands you a big, fat check, you’re willing to let him come in off the street and spend some time behind a locked door with my sister? How is that remotely safe in any way?”

The principal’s smile went all plastic. “Sophie,” he said, “I think you and I can have this discussion later, and not now, especially not in front of—”

“Oh,” said Xander, who had somehow, finally, put two and two together. “No, uh, Sonia, if you want to sit in on this, you definitely can. I didn’t know you guys were sisters!” That did not sound like a thing a Professional Scholarship-Giving Man would say. He tried again. “I mean, look, I can’t really get into the academic stuff until this guy isn’t here—”

“This guy?” said the principal, a little testily.

“Whose office, time, and patience I am very grateful for,” Xander added hastily. “Obviously. I just mean that this is something I want to run by Sasha first, and if Sonia is concerned, as a family member, I can completely accommodate—”

“Now, hold on,” said the principal. “Sophie’s on the clock. I’m perfectly fine if you’d like a meeting with just Sasha, but someone needs to man the phones—”

“Well, if someone needs to man the phones, couldn’t you do it?” said Xander before his brain caught up to his mouth.

Sasha snorted. Sonia pressed her lips together, but her eyes were sparkling with mirth. “Mr. Harris,” said the principal. “I think you should remember that I am allowing you a meeting with one of my students when she should be in class, not suggestions as to how I should run my office.”

“Got it,” said Xander, holding his hands up. “Sonia—”

“Sophie is not a part of this conversation.”

“No, she’s not,” said Xander, not missing a beat. “I was talking to Sonia.”

“You’re a regular little wise-cracker, aren’t you?” said the principal, still with that plastic smile. “Listen, Mr. Harris, that donation of yours doesn’t go far enough to cover my secretary’s salary. If you want to talk to Soph—Sonia outside of school hours, you can, but—”

Ignoring the principal, Xander leaned over the desk, warmed by the fact that Sonia was no longer looking at him with outright antipathy. “I’m obviously not gonna get into the details in front of Principal Moneybags here,” he informed her, his heart doing a funny little twirl when her mouth twitched, “but I would like to talk to you. Both of you. I don’t want to exclude you; you’re involved in this as much as Sasha is. Most of the time, we come to the school, we talk to the girls before we talk to the family, because the girls are the ones who need this information the most. But if you’re receptive to listening, this is definitely a conversation that it would be okay for you to be there for.”

“Mr. Harris,” said the principal testily, no longer sounding quite so friendly.

Sonia looked up at him—gorgeous eyes, Xander thought, as dark as the night sky—and said, simply, “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They met at a café a few blocks away from the school, Sasha cheerfully guzzling down a hot chocolate while Sonia delicately sipped black coffee. “I hope I didn’t jeopardize your job there,” Xander started uncertainly, eyes on Sonia even though they probably should have been on Sasha.

“No, it’s fine,” said Sonia tiredly. “I’ve been thinking about quitting for a while now. He keeps calling me Sophie and asking me to handle all the Black History Month stuff because I’d know more about it than him.”

“Which is racist,” Sasha chimed in. “He’s a stupid old racist.”

“Definitely do not say anything uncomplimentary about your teachers within their earshot,” said Sonia, fixing Sasha with the same terrifying Older Sister Look that Buffy had perfected. She looked back towards Xander with a lopsided smile, took another sip of her coffee, and added, “But yes. He is a stupid old racist.”

“…Uh,” said Xander. Usually, the talks with the girls were pretty straightforward. He did tend to fuck something up in the process, because he wasn’t always good at tapping into his inner Confident Xander, but this was the first time that talking to one of the baby Slayers also involved talking to someone this intimidating. And pretty. Intimidatingly pretty. That described this situation very well. “So. Look. I have something I need to talk to Sasha about.”

“Really,” said Sonia.

“Soso, don’t be mean,” said Sasha reprovingly, setting her own hot chocolate down. “Mr. Harris—”

“Xander,” Xander corrected.

“Really?” said Sonia.

“Again,” said Sasha. “Don’t be mean.” She turned expectantly to Xander. “Xander. What kind of academic thing am I up for?”

Now came the hard part. “Not an academic thing at all, actually,” said Xander carefully. “More like…” He hesitated. “Sasha, have you been experiencing anything unusual in your day-to-day life as of late?”

Sonia stiffened. Sasha’s gaze went down to the table. “So, what is this, some kind of X-Files investigation?” said Sonia, defenses up all over again. “You’re zeroing in on my sister with your perfect suit and your effortless charm and you’re going to cart her off to a government institution to do experiments on her?”

“Okay, first of all, if you want to cover up the weird happenings, you might not want to accuse me of being an undercover government operative,” said Xander, not sure whether he should be amused or concerned. “Second of all, if I was a government operative, I’d be the worst government operative ever, because I did just invite you guys out for coffee. And third—” Something caught his attention. “Effortless charm?”

Sotto voce, Sasha said, “My sister likes dorks.”

“Stop that,” said Sonia to Sasha.

“Do you not like dorks?” Sasha gestured to Xander. “Is he not totally your type?”

Xander decided to change the subject. Effortlessly. “HA HA HA ANYWAY,” he said, hoping to God that he wasn’t blushing. “UNUSUAL OCCURRENCES?”

“Why do you wanna know?” asked Sasha. It wasn’t as defensive as Sonia, but there was something of a warning to the question.

Relieved by a topic of conversation that wasn’t whatever the hell had just happened, Xander transitioned back into the usual Slayer spiel. “There’s a lot of stuff I’m gonna tell you right now,” he said. “Pretty much all of it is going to be hard to believe. When I’m done, I am going to show you categorical proof that my word is good. If you don’t want proof, or if you think I’m a total nut-job, that’s fine, but you need to understand that burying your head in the sand is going to put you in more danger than you’re already in right now.”

“Danger?” Sasha repeated skeptically.

“Danger,” Xander confirmed. “So listen up.”

[wildbornsiren]

12 Days of Fluffmas!: Charity Auction || Javy “Coyote” Machado/F!Reader

Charity Auction

Summary: Your friend wins tickets to a special auction. One of the lots up for sale is particularly interesting. 

1,871 words Female/AFAB Reader. 

Warning: Awkward flirting. Unrealistic bidding. This is all fun. 

Notes: Is it December? No. Did I want to finish this challenge I set for myself? Yes. Day ten of the 12 days of Fluffmas!  Comments and reblogs fuel my writing, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s appreciated and means the most.

**Tag list is done. Please follow and turn on notifications for @wbslibrary​ **

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.” You whisper playfully to Louise as you walk arm in arm into one of the local bars. The place had been decked out in twinkling lights and snowflakes, holiday music pumping through the speakers.

“I won tickets in the raffle, and I was told that Derek wouldn’t be interested in this.” Louise beams at you. You two had become fast friends at work, and she was someone who was so effervescent and bright it was hard to say no. “Plus, it goes to a good cause, we don’t have to bid on anything.”

There are a few donation buckets for local charities, as well as a couple signs that say that all profits of the evening will be donated. A few days ago, your office had held a holiday party, as well as a raffle for tickets to a special charity auction. Louise appears at your elbow holding two cocktails, handing you one.

“Let’s grab a table.” She says, her excitement is contagious, and you can’t help but grin.

Once you’re settled at a table, you get a chance to look around at the people packed into the bar. Most are dressed in their holiday finest, conversation and laughter adding to the buzzing energy in the room. There are servers wandering around, carrying trays of drinks and snacks. One walks by and you do a double take, nearly choking on your drink.

The server is tall, heavily muscle, stunningly handsome with a smile that was brighter than anything you dared to look at without sunglasses. He was also only wearing a pair of red velvet shorts with white faux fur at the waistband and hem.

“See something you like?”

Oh. His voice is warm and rich, slides down your back smooth and easy. Louise kicks you under the table and you squeak, realizing you’ve been staring at him mute. “Yes. Yeah, sure we’ll take some of that. Those.” You point to the appetizers on the tray he’s offering. “The snack. Snacks.”

His laugh is just as good as his voice, plush lower lip caught between his teeth when he winks, placing a plate on the table between you and Louse before walking off.

“Smooth.” Louise says. “Real smooth.”

“Did you see him?” You mutter, taking a sip of your drink. “Snack. Snack.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m not allowed to talk for the rest of the night, okay?”

“Sweetheart, that man is a whole fucking buffet.” Louise is tracking him around the room. “Hell, all the waiters are full on meals. Snacks serving snacks.”

You dare to look around, seeing that most of the servers were dressed like the one who had stopped by your table. There are a few women as well, wearing red tank camisoles and shorts trimmed in faux fur just like the men.

A bell clangs loudly, the conversation dying down. The lights in the bar go down, the music getting a little quieter. There’s a squawk of microphone feedback, the crowd protesting. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we at the Hard Deck would like to welcome you to our first annual Secret Santa Auction! My name is Penny, and I will be your MC for the evening.” Cheers rise, some whistling. You clap, getting caught up in the merriment.

“All evening you have seen what is up for auction. Our lovely servers have volunteered not only to help me host this evening, but their time as well.” The woman with the mic is all smiles and beautiful. “Those who place the highest bid on each of our lots…” she points to the servers who wave. “Will win a dinner date with the Helper Elf they win. Proceeds will be split between a few local charities.”

You can feel the grin spreading on Louise’s face, the weight of her gaze. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” She lights up. “I mean when’s the last time you went out on a date?”

“It wouldn’t be a date.” You motion between the two of you. “This, this is more of a date than what that would be.”

“Think of it as doing a good deed. All proceeds go to the sweet puppies and kittens.”

“You’ve lost your mind.” You mutter.

“You’re thinking about it. Chase that thought.” Louise grins.

“First up, we have a Helper Elf Bobby who is sweeter than sugar, and definitely on the nice list.” Penny’s voice amplified by the mic calls out. Standing next to her is a man, in the same shorts, but he’s wearing a t-shirt that matched the women’s camisoles. “A true Southern gentleman, he’s got a little spice but don’t worry, he’ll treat you like royalty. And, if you play your cards right, he’ll let you know what Bob really stands for.”

There’s some hooting and hollering, a few wolf whistles. The man, Bobby, next to Penny flushes darkly, but smiles. One of those smiles that is sweet but promises mischief.

“Bidding starts at 50 dollars!”

Bids climb quickly, a bidding war between two women. The bell clangs again, the final bid being $600. Bobby blows a kiss to the woman who placed the winning bid and disappears down a hallway.

“Please see Santa Mav, and we’ll get your gift all sorted.” Penny says, pointing to a man wearing a Santa hat and fake beard. “We’ve got two more Helper Elves waiting to make dinner plans with you, and then we’ll take a little break.”

“Our next Helper Elf is the beautiful Natasha!” A woman with dark hair and a wicked smile stands next to Penny. “If you’re lucky enough to join this spitfire for dinner, be on your toes. She’s got beauty and brains as well as an impressive right hook.”

There’s a few more good-natured catcalls and wolf whistles.

“A creature of legend, Phoenix will be someone you won’t ever forget. Bidding starts at $50 please!” The bids move even faster than they did with Bob, capping out at $750. Natasha waves at the winner, a deep flush on her cheeks before she’s disappearing down the same hall Bob had.

“Square up with Santa Mav!” Penny calls. “We have one more Helper Elf….” Protesting groans interrupt her. “For now, we’re going to let you all have a bit more fun before we bring out more beef.”

The server from earlier takes his place next to Penny. He towers over her, the twinkling Christmas lights making his skin nearly glow with warmth. His smile is so easy and gentle, and you swallow hard when his gaze seemingly lands on you. He winks, and butterflies explode in your tummy.

“There’s no way I can afford this.” You mutter, “I mean dinner with him is going to be ridiculous.”

“You’re getting it.” Louise grins. “Consider it my gift to you.”

“Louise,” you hiss.

“There’s a spark between the two of you. Let’s see what happens.” She grins, taking a sip of her drink. “It’ll be a great story to tell your parents. ‘This is my boyfriend, I won him in an auction.’”

You can’t help but laugh at that. You glance toward the makeshift stage and he’s watching you. There’s no mistaking it, warm brown eyes locked on you, his smile no less warm, but a bit softer.

“This is Helper Elf Javy.” Penny draws out his name, cheers rising once more. “While Southern boy Bob is all sugar, Javy is all spice. Hailing from New Orleans, this hot Cajun man will have you howling at the moon like a wild Coyote.” Once the yells had died down, Penny continues. “Bidding starts at $50.”

“Two hundred!” Louise yells.

“Two-fifty,” another woman calls.

“Three hundred.” A third enters the bidding war.

“Louise.” You glare at her, and she ignores you.

“Christmas and birthdays for the next ten years.” She mutters. “Six-fifty.”

“I’m splitting this with you.” You mutter.

 “Deal, but I’m not going on the date.” Louise grins, “plus it’s a tax write off.” She winks. The bid had had risen, “Eight hundred!” Louise yells.

“Sold!” Penny calls out, ringing the bell. “Please see Mav and get everything settled.” Javy blows a kiss toward your table, and Louise ‘catches’ it, pressing it to your cheek.

“Come on,” Louise takes your hand, taking you over to the man dressed in the Santa suit. “Can we split this?”

He grins at the two of you, “Of course. Cash or cards ladies?” You pay your half with cash and a card, Louise paying off her half as well. “The winner can go ahead and join Coyote in the back room. Chat for a little bit and figure out some of the details.” He hands the two of you receipts.

“Now, go get your date.” Louise teases. “I’ll keep the table for us.”

You wander down the hallway, the noise of the bar fading away. You knock on a door labeled with a ‘staff only’ sign, and it opens. Javy is standing in front of you, that wide, beautiful smile on his face.

“I was hoping I’d see you.” He offers his hand, and you take it, letting him pull you further into the room. The door closes behind you. “If this wasn’t your type of thing, I was going to try to catch you before you left.”

“It’s not,” you laugh softly. “My friend won tickets to the auction, and she decided that you would be a good person to set me up with.”

“That’s a good friend.”

You introduce yourself properly, and the way he says your name makes your breath hitch. “I think it’s really sweet that you’re volunteering yourself.”

“It’s for a good cause.” Javy says. “When can I take you to dinner?” He pauses, flashing another one of those mega-watt smiles. “I mean, I’ve got a couple more hours here, and we could get something to eat afterward.”

“Is there anything open that late?”

“Sugar,” he says softly, and you look up from your shoes. “I’m asking you out now, not just for the dinner.”

“Really?”

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin up. His eyes are warm and gentle, his smile no less radiant, but far gentler. “Yes, really. I nearly forgot my name when I saw you walk in. I switched with one of the others so I would be able to talk to you at the table.” Javy’s touch is so warm and gentle, and you can’t help but smile back at him.

“I would like to get something to eat with you. Tonight.” You say, the words coming out in a jumbled rush. “And maybe two weeks from now. Saturday night.”

“I’d like that.” Javy says, writing his name with yours under the date that you tossed out for the auction dinner.

There’s a knock on the door before it opens slightly, a man sticking his head in. “We’ve got fifteen more minutes, Javy. I can’t stall for you any longer buddy.”

“I’ll be right there Rooster.” Javy says. The door closes, and he turns to you. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot after?” He shifts his weight, and you smile. It’s cute that this massive man is acting shy.

/end

[shewhowas39]

Title: "Dark Amethyst" Card: Ace of Wands Deck: The Bohemian Gothic Tarot by Alex Ukolov & Karen Mahony Ship: vague mention of Astarion x June (female durge OC) Warnings: light references to Astarion's past Summary: Astarion sees some lovely fabric and feels a spark of creativity. (Takes place in early Act 1)

Astarion walks through the Emerald Grove, looking for something - anything - to entertain him. After Wyll's suggestion that the group spend a few extra hours here, taking the time to bathe and gather supplies, he had wasted little time before finding a mad old woman selling a collection of soaps and products for his hair. Unfortunately, Shadowheart and June have not yet returned from the hot spring, which means he still has to wait before putting them to use.

But what in the hells is he meant to do while he waits? Talk to these people? Absolutely not. Everyone here is miserable, and the last thing he's interested in is hearing the druids complain about the tielings or the tieflings complain about the druids. June might be dragging the party into this mess, but it doesn't mean he has to socialize with these strangers who have nothing of use to offer him.

But then he sees the fabric. Its on display at one of the druid merchants' little tables, along with a variety of sewing supplies. It's not particularly high quality - just a basic, soft linen - but the color is divine. A rich, heavily saturated shade of dark purple.

He stops and just stares at it for a moment, an image flashing unbidden into his mind of a simple-yet-classic, loose fitting shirt with an almost scandalously deep V neckline, in that beautiful color.

Astarion knows how to sew. It is a skill he picked up not long after being "taken in" by Cazador. It started out of a desperate desire to hold on to something of his - constantly fixing the damage done to the clothes he'd owned before becoming a vampire spawn. The idea of throwing them out - which would have been much easier - was too painful. too close to admitting that his old self was gone.

So he'd learned to sew, so that he might make the little repairs needed to keep his old clothing presentable. He'd even come to find some quiet joy in it. He'd taken to embroidering little jokes on the insides of his shirts and underwear. Things Cazador would never bother to take notice of. It was like he had told June earlier that morning - it was cathartic.

But he's never actually made anything. He's thought about it. Spent hours working out in his head how he'd construct an entire wardrobe, all the stitching techniques he'd employ. It has all been imaginary, though. If he had ever dared to actually create something, Cazador would have made sure it was ruined, just to see the pain it caused him.

"See something you like, my good felllow?" the halfling merchant asks with an overly familiar smile that would normally set Astarion's teeth on edge. But in this instance, he gives a friendly smile back.

"That fabric - the linen - the color is gorgeous."

"Oh, yes! It's been dyed with a very rare, very expensive shade called Dark Amethyst. It's one of my favorites. Are you interested in purchasing a few meters?"

"No," Astarion says quickly - instinctively - but then pauses.

He's not with Cazador now. And he's already vowed never to go back. Sure, he might be on the verge of turning into a mind flayer, but he can at least be a well dressed tentacle monster, can't he? And if they do manage to find a cure somehow - well, he's got his little plan with June. He's pretty sure she's already falling for it. It won't be long until she's lovesick putty in his hands, and then perhaps she'll even help him destroy Cazador.

If ever there was a time to embrace this creative urge, it's right now. wth that gods damned stunning purple linen.

"Actually - yes. I'll take a few meters and any matching thread you have."

***

you can find this and my other bg3 fic on my ao3! hope you enjoyed

[the-fiction-witch]

Date

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Sexy

Concept Date Night

I rushed around like a chicken with its head cut off making sure everything was as perfect as possible fixing the flowers, fixing the candles, making sure dinner was not gonna burn, making sure the music was at a sensual low that could easily be spoken over, having changed my shirt about six times because I changed my mind on how I looked in the mirror. Scratch that I just caught myself in the mirror by the door and this blue shirt is out because I'm sweating! God fucking damn it I'm bad at this. I threw my shirt into the laundry spraif half a can of deodorant and body spray on myself and grabbed a black shirt when I heard the door.

"Fuck! No no no I'm not ready!" I complained fixing my hair and opening the door but I relaxed "oh thank god. Your a life saver jack" I told him as I quickly ushered him in and he handed over the bag from the shop with the bottle of wine I forgot 

"You okay tom?"

"Yeah. Fine why?" I asked cleaning the bottle and adding it to the table 

"You seem a little… panicked"

"I'm not panicked. I'm just… anxious. I haven't been on a lot of dates since everything and even the fee dates I have been on haven't gone particularly well. And I really like y/n she's cute and she's funny and she's literally like a fantasy come to life. And I'm terrified of fucking something up with her. Especially given this is our tenth date which is the furthest I've gotten with anybody since… everything." I explained and I noticed his face "I'm fine. Really" 

"You say so. Still a lot of work for some girl." He says moving some cutlery on the table 

"She's not some girl." I answered fixing it back "she's y/n." I said "jack… I really really like this girl. And if I fuck it up now I may never forgive myself."

"Fine. But I wanna meet her soon."

"If tonight goes well I promise you'll meet her."

"This hyperfocus doesn't have anything to do with you not getting laid for over a year does it?"

".... It's not helping." I admit "especially given… what we've been texting." I nervously admit 

"Ooooh give me the phone"

"Hell no!" I yelled immediately hiding it

"Thomas I've been your best friend since literal preschool. We were once roommates. I've seen you naked more then I like to admit. I know your a weird pervy little fuck. Now let me read the kinky texts"

"Their not kinky!" I defended "we haven't got that far yet. We're still in flirty. But there uhh may have been suggestions. That we may. Get physical. Tonight. Or at least within the next couple of dates." 

"Alright. Have fun. You know the rules"

"Don't add to the population. Don't subtract from the population. Don't be a cunt."

"Good, and relax a little okay girls smell fear" he laughed before he headed out 

Well that didn't exactly fill me with confidence. I finished up setting up and right on time I heard the door so I went waiting a moment next to the door to check my hair and my shirt and everything. And I opened the door immediately being taken back.

She had these little white wedges sat on the doorstep, flesh toned stockings, a sweet blue and white off the shoulder gingham dress with a wide white belt and her usual silver necklace, her hair perfectly done as was her natural but still very beautiful make up. Her coat over her arm and a glass tray in hand.

"Hi Tommy"

"Hi y/n" I smiled egarly

"I bought brownies" 

"Aww your so sweet we'll have those after dinner" I smiled taking the tray from her happily letting her inside shutting the door up behind us.

I took the brownies to the kitchen fighting my urge to taste them as they smelt so delicious but I lead her to her seat and took her coat doing her a nice glass of wine.

We chatted as we always did had dinner and her sweet brownies as we talked about everything and nothing, I was so happy so smitten across the table from her, until our conversation began to get a little more… interesting talking about maybe going in a trip together, maybe staying over one night at hers and where we potentially saw us going and amazingly she was on the same page as me what and excited to continue seeing each other and eventually got into a little bit of a steamy conversation.

"Thomas, I really think if they're going to start… seeing each other more I really think I should tell you some things"

"Of course, tell me whatever you want to" I told her holding her hand across the table 

"Well, if things are going to be getting more physical I feel it's only best to warn you my tastes… aren't that common" 

"Oh?"

"Some guys don't-"

"Its okay just tell me we can be adults about this"

"Well, I really really like sex"

"Okay?"

"Like almost an unhealthy amount, like my sex drive is higher than a rabbit' 

"Oh"

"And you wanna know one of my favourite things to do?"

"Uhh yeah sure tell me."

"I don't know most guys get out off when I talk about this stuff"

"Ohh well I uhh I'm open minded, whatever it is I'm sure it's not that bad"

"Okay" she blushed "I really love sucking a guys dick"

".... really?" 

"Yeah" she blushed "I don't know why it's just I really really love doing it. It's so fun. I love the action, the sounds guys make. Especially doing it sneaky places."

"... really?"

"Yeah, I hope this doesn't change anything"

"Uuughhh so you're into giving blow jobs?"

"Yeah,"

"Well in sure I could learn to live with that" I smirked 

"Oh and my favourite position ever is reverse cowgirl"

"Ah then we have a happy coincidence" I smirked giving her a kiss "I have no problems with any of that. Frankly I'm confused what man would. But I don't mind." 

"Okay," she smiled giving me another soft kiss "so?" She smirked running her foot up my leg "please?"

"Absolutely!" 

[chronurgy]

hiiiiiii im going to need a director’s commentary on this passage from (departure from the vulgar crowd) please…i loved their connection over gortash’s bling:

It was always nice to have one’s work appreciated, especially by someone intelligent enough to truly comprehend the craft. “It uses a miniaturized system of springs and counterweights to generate energy from my natural arm movements. A system of my own design, naturally. In fact, all the pieces are of my own design and construction.”

When they had looked up at him, it was with hunger in those dark eyes. “Fascinating,” they breathed. He wasn’t sure if the intensity in their eyes and words came from a desire to learn more about him or to dissect him. Possibly both. One could never be sure with their lot.

So interestingly this scene was not actually present in the first draft - it went straight from Vesper telling Gortash to leave them alone and let them read into him thinking about their abilities in combat. I added this scene in when I was about halfway through the fic. So where did this scene come from? Several different places. First, my headcanon that Gortash had the gauntlets before the netherstone and that they would have held something else then - in this case a set of magi-tech capacitors that could deliver an electric shock or extra force damage and that this tech was unique enough that he had to have designed it himself. Second, from my rewrites to the scene where they first meet in the sewers. I'd considered having him show off the gauntlets in an attempt to threaten or impress Vesper, but I realized that they're basically one of the most noticeable things about him (especially if he's dressed down compared to his archduke outfit) and that Vesper would immediately clock them as magical and be interested without him particularly having to do anything. Third, that Vesper would desperately want to get their hands on those things.

With all of that, this seemed like the perfect place to put the scene because Vesper and gortash are alone, so Vesper doesn't need to be as "on" as they would be in front of their cultists. I was also happy to come up with this because I felt like I needed a scene where Vesper demonstrated some interest in Gortash which this did well. Vesper starts to respect gortash here because he's just shown them this incredibly cool and well designed magical mechanism that he designed and made himself which makes it clear that this guy isn't just some braggadocious weirdo - he's very clever. It's part of why they're so confident that he didn't fuck up the guard counts and were testing them - they know that he's on their level and that's probably what they would have done in his position. They're still wary of him but there's a sort of game recognize game moment here.

It's also where gortash starts to put together his "in" with Vesper, which is that they are very smart and very lonely (which is a state he would know something about). I originally had him comment on that (I believe he thought something like "got you" when he caught them staring) but I pulled it because it just didn't flow right with the rest of the scene. But it did come back at the end there when he mentions other projects he's working on to further entice them to come to his estate.

Also, though it wasn't intentional, it's very funny that Gortash is out here going on about how you can never tell if "their lot" want to get to know him or dissect him when later that night he's going to say he wants to take them apart in his lab in a way that's very ambiguous about whether he means dissecting them or fucking them (or both). They really are perfect for each other, the freaks.

Finally, I based the mechanisms in the gauntlets on self winding watches. They use a semicircular weight that pivots with natural wrist movements to wind the mainspring of the watch. That's the idea here - the weights tighten the springs which pull on (here's where magic comes in) crystals that can convert that kinetic energy to arcane potential, and gortash has built something akin to a capacitor bank to then store that energy. So that's where that concept came from!

[cloudbattrolls]

💋 dressed to impress?

Jikiro had never been particularly interested in western Alternian holinights, not out of dislike; it was just more to keep track of in addition to his own region’s.

He took note of the major ones that influenced business, but beyond that, he’d never had much to do with them beyond dealing with inks for bulk card orders and the like.

But even he knew that 12th perigee’s eve and the gift giving celebration that surrounded it were a big deal over there. Jamie had never made a fuss about the holinights before, preferring to spend them quietly, but he seemed more in the spirit this sweep and clicked around Jikiro’s hive followed by Hanabi, with whom he held up a passionate one-sided argument.

“Gimmicky wrapping paper is a curse upon the world! Oh don’t give me that face,” he scowled at the smiling white tanuki, who waved her fluffy tail back and forth.

“You ought to know it’s true. Or are you testing me, you little beast? Are you trying to pick a fight? En garde!” He waved a crutch at her, and Hanabi bonked against his leg slightly.

“That is not a well-reasoned defense.” He sniffed, and Jikiro’s mother licked him, spurring a new round of complaints.

The ink maker chuckled, and got back to reviewing some half-sweep reports, depressing though they were; Izanam’s influence on their customers was having its effect.

He did have proof it was her now, almost by accident; but he knew perfectly well it wouldn’t be enough to stand up in court, especially given it was magical in nature and had been obtained via sabotage. He’d be tied up in enough red tape that he never saw moonlight again.

“Jiji, if you insist on working any longer, I’m going to bash your skull in. Stop and enjoy yourself, for the love of god! You aren’t going to drum up new customers by having the longest unshaven face ever - which by the way, remember where your razor is, I don’t like getting scratched when I kiss you, you heathen.”

The tealblood chuckled as the blueblood came up beside where he worked at his desk; he preferred to have some stubble, given what it had taken him to have it in the first place, but it was time he shaved.

“All right, all right. Give me a few minutes.”

He dutifully went and shaved, and when he came out, Jamie was on the phone and chattering.

“Yes, please come over here, he’s being boring.” Complained the cobalt. “Much like you, I have little tolerance for dullness! I promise there will be cake.” He said, grinning. “Good! See you.” He tapped a button and ended the call.

“Viltau?” asked Jikiro, bemused. “I mean sure, why not? We better tell Sanata right away about the cake, though.”

“What do you take me for? Already done. Now let’s freshen up the place! It looks the absolute same as it always does, you tasteless lump.”

“Damn, because I’ve just had nothing else to do lately.” Retorted the tanuki troll dryly.

“Excuses!”

Nevertheless, he dug in storage for anything that might be suitable - Jamie sighed over some lights being the wrong colors until Jikiro snapped his fingers and changed the hue with a flick of magic. The kookaburra troll grinned.

“At last, he’s useful for something!”

“I can lock you outside.” Threatened the ink maker. “And tell Hanabi to not let you in.”

The curly-haired little demon grinned wickedly. “I would love to see you try.”

Jikiro instead covered the outside of his spade's glasses in ink and grinned back as the freckled man cursed him out, his usually mild accent strengthening.

They finished decorating with minimal further conflict, though Jamie did wind up with WHORE inked across his shirt and Jikiro had a slight bruise on his arm from a thrown statuette.

The mage felt the distinct ping of magic that meant Viltau had come through the passage Jikiro permanently set up for him, and grinned, smoothing back his hair and trying to look at himself in the room’s antique mirror to make sure he looked as good as he could (if a bit sweaty after decorating).

Jamie mimed throwing up, and Jikiro poked his bony shoulder before going to welcome his matesprit in.

Sanata brought in cake shortly after - 12th perigee’s celebration cake, the whipped cream filling perfectly light and yet full of flavor - and the three men enjoyed themselves, talking and catching up.

Jamie left after a bit to, in his words, ‘finish his argument with Hanabi’, at which Jikiro rolled his eyes and laughed.

He and Vil finished the last of their cake, and he took his matesprit’s hand, wanting to show him a custom invitation card that could actually smell faintly of hot chocolate (or any other treat) that he was working on for him - then walked directly into something.

The midblood grabbed it to get it out of his face, and then realized it was some kind of…plant? Weird.

Vil looked at him, amused and expectant, and then Jikiro remembered what this plant was. Of course Jamie had hung it.

The tealblood grinned, and kissed the indigo full on the mouth, hand to the man’s freckled cheek.

The cards could wait a moment.

[leastrife]

It’s not that there’s anything particularly wrong with any of the women. They’re all polite, beautiful at least in society’s definition of the term, none were mean at all despite his obvious lack of interest in all of them. He just wasn’t interested in looking for a princess.

If he were to tell anyone that though, he’d be disowned, shamed, never looked at the same again. Perhaps stoned. That was a punishment of the old ages but it still crossed his mind. It was already afternoon and he was getting nervous. He knew he had to choose one of them or his father would make the decision for him. Even though he’s rather not marry any of them, since that wasn’t an option he’d like to choose that for himself.

The last princess met him at the gazebo as the sun was starting to set. He was sick of this setting since the gazebo is where he had met all of the princess today, but at least he was to the last one. Then came the most difficult part of choosing which bride would be the most likely to rat out his true interests to his father and the entire kingdom.

This princess wore a frilly pink dress with white laces and orange embroidery. Her hair was done up in a fanciful combination of braids. She was as beautiful as the rest, but still didn’t not particularly strike him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your hig-“

“Zip it. None of the getting to know each other stuff I’m not here to actually try and court you,” she said crossing her arms irreverently. “You just passed up dozens of beautiful kind women who all would count themselves lucky to marry you. There’s only one reason for that.”

The prince’s face went white and he shrunk back into his seat not liking where this was going.

“You don’t like princesses,” she said. A million things ran through his head of all the horrible things that could happen now.

“Okay, okay fine, no I don’t, please I’m begging you don’t tell anyone. Do you want money? We have plenty or if you want to come up with a trade agreement I’m sure my-“

“What? No. I don’t want anything from you. Sort of. It’s fine, I couldn’t care less. Because even if you don’t like princesses, I sure do.”

The prince stared, mouth gaped open for a moment. “You- you’re like me? You’re like me!” He said almost too giddy. “I’ve never met someone who had feelings like that. Well, opposite sides, but same general concept. Wait- this is amazing! We can pretend to marry each other, but we don’t have to do any romantic stuff!”

“Exactly what I was thinking. Nice to see you think fast.” She extended her hand out. “Cathrine. But call me Kate.”

“Sebastian. Seb.” He shook her hand.

“Glad we’re both in agreement.”

Today was suddenly going much better.

You, the prince have been suffering through the parade of prospective brides all day. They’re all beautiful, wonderful women. But you’re gay.

[primalspice]

beautiful pokermo (poker emo)👕 6, 13, 19 📦 1, 5, 11 🍽️ 12, 15 🌤️ 5, 13, 18 🤝 2, 9, 20 💓 2, 6, 11, 🎲 1, 9, 14

yayy

👕6.) How much interest does your character take in trends?

Enough to find out what they are and then immediately go be a hater about whatever it is. Somewhat more openminded if it is within the Emo Community.

👕13.) What is something your character would refuse to wear?

idk shes pretty strictly butchy so no dresses or anything like that. also like. tshirt of whatever band/musician she is most a hater of. its THAT serious.

👕19.) If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

I think she Also has some but i Also dont know what they are. Probably something generically emo like a star or angel wings or swallows or something. Or god forbid song lyrics.

📦1.) Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

Depends on the situation but I think wallet and like. glasses are the bare minimum. Doesn't really carry anything interesting around. OH and her flip phone and mp3 player :3

📦5.) Would your character ever try to haggle?

Yes. If it was more socially acceptable she'd do it all the time. NOT afraid.

📦11.) What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character?

Anything from Spencers or Hot Topic. Easy.

🍽️12.) Which mealtime is your character's favorite?

Dinner, i know she goes crazy on some latenight post-concert fast food. One of lifes greatest pleasures.

🍽️15.) What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

not sure but i think she deserves to inherit my love for an xxl slurpee. also strikes me as a Hot Chips individual.

🌤️5.) Has your character ever had an animal phase?

Yea probably a cool one like wolves or foxes or warrior cats. probably a furry by association (cant draw and doesnt have an official fursona but definitely has had friends who are furries and have assigned one for her)

🌤️13.) What element best represents your character?

Probably fire; conveniently accurate to her Leo Zodiac

🌤️18.) How willing would your character be to nap outside?

Not particularly willing bcz its hot and sunny as fuck out 90% of the time but i think she'd be fine with it if it came down to it and if it was somewhere she felt safeish. Not unfamiliar with sleeping in strange places as someone known to Couch Surf, but is more likely to do it indoors somewhere like the library or the lounge at the college she's technically enrolled in.

🤝2.) What is your character's favorite kind of social event?

Concerts ofc. Could argue that this doesnt count as a social event but it is for Her. The shittier the venue and the longer the sets the better.

🤝9.) Where is your character's comfort place?

Aforementioned shitty venues primarily. But she also likes hanging out with her friends (that i prommy she has) at their places <3

🤝20.) What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

Not very much she's kinda loudmouthed and hater-ly. I think it's mostly just Talk tho. More likely to be the one holding a friend back from a fight if it was anything beyond a punch or slap (kinda funny bcz she is tiny)

💓2.) Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

loud music. sorry if thats an obvious answer its just true.

💓6.) How well does your character act under pressure?

Pretty well. I think in a social situation she's likely to want to take the lead. even if she's not the calmest person around she is usually the most Assertive. In more individual situations such as Poker or Arguing she can go quite some time without being bothered.

💓11.) Does your character have strong willpower?

for the most part Yes. See above + i think she's also just kinda a do-er. if she wants to do something she will find out a way to do it and get it done and smile happily about it. isnt as fun when it comes to shit she doesnt feel like doing tho, such as finishing her degree or finding a longterm place to stay or a steady job. because why should she HAVE to when what shes DOING already works

🎲1.) What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

Ones where she can win money mostly. texas hold em poker is the go-to but she also likes other card games and also billiards. Also kinda strikes me as a call of duty mt dew gamer but is probably pretty casual about it, i dont think she owns her own xbox.

🎲9.) What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about?

Her band, music in general, poker, gambling in general, the latest vegas gossip, ancestry dot com, etc etc. She's an extrovert and a talker and a gossiper you could get her going about anything i think. and i RESPECT that.

🎲14.) What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

HATES IT AND UR GOING TO HELL if it happens to her. But would do it as revenge <3 Really depends on the game/how high stakes it is, but shes horribly competitive in general so does not take kindly to it in most cases.