#probably bought him and the project a lot of time

[marielle555]

Thank you so much! Everything you said is spot on. And helped me realize, what it is this feeling that at one time specifically ruined the perception of BG3. Metagaming. I'm a big fan of DnD and RPGs as well. Before I met BG3, I'd had the great pleasure of going through both Pathfinder games and a few other interesting games before that and they gave me quite a few amazing hours of immersion in a fantasy world. BG3 also first gave me that immersion, and then threw me out of it, making me become for a while an exceptionally sad average person from real life, sitting next to a PC screen and writing feedback, in which behind the “wall of text” hid the same meaning: "***! What the ***! Fix your *** in the game!" A unique gaming experience and a uniquely striking contrast, the likes of which I couldn't have imagined if I hadn't encountered in person - an amazing, truly extraordinary character - Astarion, who makes you fall in love with him so much, that you simply don't want anyone else, that I didn't want to give up on him “without a fight” after patch 6, and such, to put it mildly, “ flaws” in his romance, that if someone had told me about it in advance, before I had time to get attached to the character personally, I would not only never touch this game, but even the studio itself with any other projects I would probably avoid it like the plague. But thanks to this interaction with a real player, I learned a lot of new information - what a non-con is, what modern game-therapy approach to healing trauma is, how bad it is to sexualize game characters, and that “all modern vampires,” it turns out, are “tragic”…

Why should I even care what they have going on with “modern” vampires? I bought BG3 because I adored the BG series games, I need Faerûn to be there, my character needs to be a resident of it, and she fell in love with a vampire on Faerûn. This world exists separate from all this “modernity”, therapy language, all this ‘'sexualization’' stuff, some rules of ‘'healthy/unhealthy relationships’' and whatever else is fashionable at this particular stage concretely in Western culture. This world has its own lore, its own rules by which it exists. This idea of “vampire fetishization” that “should” bother a vampire-Astarion, living on Faerûn, completely spits on DnD's lore. And that "There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire, is there? “, which completely defies logic, and is in irresolvable contradiction with realistic and actual: ”People don't trust vampires - perhaps understandably - so I needed to get someone on my side“, makes Astarion cease to be Astarion, and become a signboard for those, who for some unknown reason wanted to declare vampire romance as something ‘bad’ and ”unhealthy". And replace it with a healthy sexualization of bears to “improve society”, no other way…

Up until Act 3, the game was going great. There were some rough edges and “stumbles” that didn't kill, but somewhat spoiled the immersion, like the inability to tell the companions trying to seduce Tav, that you are already in a relationship with Astarion. The first sense that you're not the hero of the story comes in the dialogue with Halsin, when that line about you already being in a relationship comes off as completely obnoxious, as if you're okay with Halsin's proposal despite Astarion's love... And you're no longer the heroine of the story, but a boring monogamous heterosexual woman, who has to realize that being monogamous isn't cool or modern. Okay, here I can still imagine that the heroine of the story, unlike me, is a slight-talker, and isn't going to spend any more time on Halsin than it takes to say one word: “No” and move on. But in Act 3 it's just not possible anymore, when you can't pick a line in a scene because they're all no good, but you have to poke your mouse at something or the game won't continue, it's a really awful feeling. And yeah, without spoilers we can't know for sure, without spoilers I honestly assumed that “I want your body” was also some other modern day bullshit, like “it's cool to talk frankly about sex” because the game itself is unabashedly sexualized, with everyone hitting on Tav all the time, including illithid. It was just done poorly, but without spoilers I didn't realize it was done intentionally.

And after the check with mind-reading and “you're degrading yourself...”, to which it is impossible to react, for the first time in my life I had an acute desire for negative interaction through “kinetic discussion” directly with the author of the scene, especially because of the combination of these rails with the ‘possibility’ of “kicking him in the balls”. Why was such an abomination added, filmed, and no normal reactions? I generally find it disgusting that the game has such an “opportunity” and the only way to justify it in and of itself would be if it was possible to hit everyone, absolutely everyone in the game in cutscenes - Karlach, Jaheira, Wyll, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel, Halsin, Mystra (in Gale Origins), only then would it pass as an opportunity for roleplay. This kind of feeling seems to be due to a side effect of Welch's desire to constantly interact directly with the player rather than the character, the player also starts thinking about “Who wrote this?!” instead of enjoying their favorite escapism.

The only thing that makes the situation better and allows you to continue enjoying the game is the mods and the realization, that Astarion can't think you helped him ascend just because you're thirsty for vampire lords. I used to not be very fond of mods, even cosmetic ones, so as not to disrupt the original story in any way or bring something into the fantasy world that couldn't be in it. BG3 was an exception - mods become a “magic pill”, modders are amazingly talented and, what is especially nice, mods do not break immersion, but, on the contrary, help it, making the story better and more realistic.

I agree with you, and I can't say that Baudelaire Welch is a bad writer. It's entirely possible that they are a good writer. They are a bad scriptwriter for RPG games. A player character in an RPG should not be any kind of “narrative tool”, much less one with emotions spelled out by the author. Even Tav's inappropriate facial expressions at many plot points are annoying. This would be fine in a game with a pre-made character, who already has their own appearance, personality, and backstory, but in a game, where you create your own character, it spoils the game. And it could easily be avoided by simply moving the camera more often to companions or NPCs at times, when the PCs' emotional reactions might be different - the player knows how they feel about it, and besides, looking at a companion while talking to them is much more realistic than looking “at yourself”. And when you're a character in someone else's fanfic, why doesn't the game description say FPG (fanficplay game)? It would be better to invent a new genre than to cheat fans of a genre that has been around for a long time. And the very idea of inviting a fanfic author is really bad, since the script should be written by a professional screenwriter. Wouldn't Stephen Rooney, a professional screenwriter, have written the entire Astarion's romance on his own? A screenwriter of that caliber, who clearly doesn't need anyone to “help” him with his writing at all. Fane's romance in Divinity 2 was perfectly written, and if I'm not mistaken, there was no “special writer” for the romances when Larian did Divinity 2, and there were no major problems with the romances in Divinity either. The fanfiction community has always been perfectly fine gathering around any interesting game setting, people were perfectly fine realizing their fantasies using RPG plots written by professional screenwriters. And among the authors of Astarion fanfics there are people, who write better than Baudelaire Welch, Larian could at least organize a fair contest, if they wanted to add a fanfiction author to the scripting team....

And the anti-AA “fandom” is made up of people who don't understand a damn thing about roleplaying, RPGs, or DnD. Astarion “loses his soul” (I think that even sounds ridiculous to any DM or relatively experienced DnD player), then he has “textbook signs of abuser” (you can take a textbook, find signs of abuser in anti-AA themselves, find signs of abuser in Tav in the UA route - it's not hard, but I'd really like to do without textbooks at all, which can't be written on Faerûn).�� “Your Tav feels this or that, your Tav is ‘”asking for freedom“’, right down to multiple statements about real players really '”wanting a hot vampire daddy“, ”gooners", and so on. Maybe some “media literate” people need someone to write everything for them, including reality, need authorities to tell them what to think, what to say, and who are the ‘'gooners’' here, but I would hate to be forced to apply my own media literacy to games, figuring out what's the reason that my game is being ruined, what's the “agenda” and what's the preaching in honor of. When in the real world you need this very media literacy to be able to separate facts from lies, in a game you want to take a break from it all. The very essence of escapism is a temporary escape from reality. People whose level of “literary literacy” is at the level of a middle school student, when it is necessary to memorize from the textbook “what the author wanted to say”, to mumble it or write it in an essay and get praise for it, are probably attracted by such simplistic stories about “the cycle of abuse”, “power corrupts” and they accept the metagame and the author's attempts to “teach them”, the main thing is that it was clear, what button to press and how to sexualize someone correctly, so that they could write “good person” in their notebook for it. But I personally buy a book, when I want to read a book, and watch a movie, when I want to be a spectator, and the main pleasure of RPG is the possibility of immersion, the possibility of being inside these events, personal interaction with the characters. If you don't like a book, you can easily drop it, if the series has gone downhill, you can just stop watching it and find another one, but when your character in an RPG is replaced by a doppelgänger created by the author and you can't do anything about it - it's a completely different feeling. And when they try to force you to part with your beloved character, your LI, who looked at you through the screen and interacted with you and not with the heroine of the series - that's a completely different feeling too.

In Daeran romance (Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous) there is a moment, where you can kill the character Liotr, who has learned his secret. Daeran can also kill him himself, you can persuade Liotr, and not kill him. Funny thing is, I found out about the fact that you can choose not to kill him after playing the game by reading the guide, I also found out that it's killing a story NPC, turns out to be a very bad thing, “doing evil for Daeran's sake” according to some people. And I seem to have gotten what is considered his “evil ending” or not, I don't know, the ending was great and very happy, was too lazy to dig further on the internet to find out what it was called. The main thing is that the authors didn't try to “teach” me at all, there was no “very bad” in the game, immersion wasn't interrupted for a second. Pathfinder is perfectly playable blind, without requiring a single spoiler or any guides during the first playthrough. You can read the guides afterwards to marvel at the possible branching of the scenario and the thoughtfulness of the plot and wonder: “Wow, it was possible even that way!” I would never have thought, “being inside the plot”, that it would be possible to let someone who knows such a terrible secret of my beloved person live, and killing Liotr feels like a necessary decision. Yes, an evil act, but an evil act in a “do what you have to do” kind of way, sometimes you have to get your hands dirty, and I wasn't even robbed of the alignment of chaotic-good for that act. In Daeran's romance, there's a line for the PCs, “I will always support you” or “I will always be on your side” (not verbatim) that you choose, and interestingly enough, it's a non-alignment line - love has no alignments, it's something more important than '‘good’ and “evil”. In BG3 for Astarion, we don't have anything like that after he Ascended. Although there was a similar answer in one of the dialogs before that, in the dialog when Astarion wants to find the other spawns. Where did that intention then disappear to? In the same dialog with Daeran, next to this main line, there was also a line leaning the player's alignment “towards good” - something about “you can always be a better person”, something in memory directly giving away the waibes of the UA route. And the line “towards evil” - something about Daeran being a tool for you. When such a line is just there - well, maybe that's how someone roleplays, it doesn't get in the way. In a good RPG bad lines are not noticeable, you just slip a glance and choose another, “your” line, and they can not be called bad, when they are not imposed on anyone, when it is one of many options. In Daeran's romance, it's one “evil” line. In the dialog after the ritual, it's ALL lines. “I want to become a vampire” and “I want your body” - Astarion is seen as a “tool” for Tav + two lines for lecturing and scolding.

After I killed Liotr, Daeran didn't think I was “sexualizing” him. When Daeran says “freedom at last” and you ask him why, he says: “because it's the most beautiful thing, except life itself, and many fail to appreciate it”. The Ascended Astarion would probably think the same thing, not that I “lust for him as a vampire”. When I asked Daeran “does he feel lonely around me” in the romantic dialog, he said “no, especially after you got your hands dirty for me”. And Astarion has instead “You're degrading yourself by staying with him...”  And one really gets sad for such a unique and wonderful character like Astarion, when you compare the writing of his romance to Daeran's romance, which was written by professional screenwriters.

“Escapism is the main point of any roleplaying game” - thank you, and I'd awfully like to see studios that produce roleplaying games have a sign with that inspirational phrase hanging in an office somewhere.

I often read that Astarion has two authors, Rooney and Welch. I'd be interested to know what influence Welch had on the AA story. Some also say that his story was "watered down" by Larian. Objectively, though, only Tav's facial expressions changed, so I don't know what else would have changed in his story. Thanks for your answer.

Baudelaire Welch, a former “the companion character designer lead” who has been working on Baldur's Gate 3 as “the romance feature lead”, in their own words, “wrote quite a few of the Astarion romance dialogues in the later period of production”. Unfortunately, this author's work, their views, and their personal perception of how game romances affect real-life romances have been largely a bad influence on the romance of Ascended Astarion. It was Welch's view that the Ascension was a “bad ending” for Astarion that was subsequently hyped by AA haters (Stephen Rooney, the author of Astarion, himself corrected this by saying that the Ascension was not Astarion's ‘bad’ ending, it was his “evil” ending). Their somewhat twisted understanding of romance and desire to make the players feel like failures was expressed in this one:

Article: "Baldur's Gate 3 writer's explanation of Astarion's 'bad' ending is a wake-up call for players lusting over RPG characters".

This kind of insult to the audience, the portrayal of players as sex-crazed (which was later used heavily against Astarion's fans) goes a long way towards explaining where this single mind-reading check in the game came from, which is impossible to react to, and provides no additional options for interaction. The author “wrote” a certain sex-crazed player, creating scenes without the possibility of any roleplay. Accordingly, the scene of dialog with the worst lines (“I want your body”, etc.) and the same impossibility of roleplay, also belongs to Welch's pen. As a player I can only reply: "I failed to see a good RPG in the third act. It's beyond my understanding of classic RPG games". These lines and this check have already been criticized and discussed many times, but the essence of the logic of this narrative is best conveyed here:

(Picture taken from Larian forum, author Ametris, was published on the forum during the period of active indignation of players after patch 6)

How the author managed to ascribe such motivation to the players is, of course, a mystery, as is where the theme of sex is traced during the Ascension ritual, why Astarion can be helped without having romance with him, and why sex can be refused (the romance is preserved). And of course, for submitting to this imposed narrative, the player who leaves Astarion a spawn forever will be rewarded with sex. But without the cutscene. As for the post-Ascension sex scene itself, Welch claimed she didn't know it existed.

Thank you so much to Larian's animation team! You are the best! We can roughly conclude from this that the Welch's authorship of the scene of the night after the Ascension may only include the lines. I even suppose that the very notes of the developers for this scene could belong to Stephen Rooney himself (but this is only an assumption, it is impossible to find information about who wrote these notes).

These developer notes clearly describe how Astarion and Tav love each other and how Astarion is powerful and free. So, thanks for everything we love about this scene, to the animators and to Neil and his beautiful acting. And if you compare the lines for the player, you'll see a strong difference in the quality of writing compared to other scenes of Astarion's romance - Act 1 scene (this scene is written by Stephen Rooney and it's great) everything is fine with the roleplay, Act 3 is a scene of 4 bad lines, it's just impossible to make a choice while maintaining immersion. You can even just compare Tav's facial expression in act 1 scene (when you offer Astarion your neck and he bites you) - the facial expression is adequate to the situation, it's real, as it should be - a smile, you can see that Tav is enjoying it, and in act 3 they imposed a stupid frowning face, and the surprise is as if it's the first time Astarion bit you, and in general everything is bad and Tav just tolerates it. One is left to fantasize about how great the romance could have been if Stephen Rooney had written the entire story of Astarion and every line in it by himself. “A Gentle Line” would have been beautiful for sure. But these are dreams, and in reality, unfortunately, the post-Ascension scene was regularly made worse starting in patch 4:

(From Larian Forum, author Ametris)

Also in this interview with Welch and Schick: “Baldur's Gate 3 Writers Break Down the Craft of Video Game Sex and Romance” you can learn more about the writers' approach to romance. Interesting that:

“In contrast, romance was baked into Baldur’s Gate 3 from the beginning, and Larian developed its dynamic animation system to account for characters having to hug and kiss.” As a result, we have one hug in the Act 2 scene (and that in this scene for confession of feelings for me this action seems too weak, compared to the possibility to open the mind, which I find more serious and sincere). Except it's possible to regularly load a save just to hug Astarion, but within the story Astarion wasn't hugged once until the mod.

“It used to be set up so that the only way that romances could begin was this one night in the party, where you could only pick one character,” Welch says, “And then basically, that character would end up being your love interest for the whole rest of the game.”

This locked fans into dating the same character simply due to a few choices made toward the start of the game. As a fan before coming to work at Larian, though, Welch wished players could experience love triangles and multiple partners.”

It's unfortunate the resources went into this. I was honestly rather saddened to learn that BG3 was originally intended to be a good classic RPG with a romance with a single companion. I can imagine how rich the romance could have been, if all the resources wasted on bears, cheating, “choices between the two” and whatnot had been shared between the romances with LI. For Act 1 there's 2 hours of extra content created for all those triangles (including lines, scenes, and companion reactions), but a hug for Astarion - no, not even in the epilogue, just as there's no kiss in the epilogue, nor is there any opportunity for a “gentle” romance.

And to this:

“People often write fanfiction that is deeply about conflict, about angst, about actual challenges that are being overcome in a relationship,” Welch says. “There are quite a lot of really heartbreaking break-up scenes that happen in Baldur’s Gate 3. That’s the thing that people don’t necessarily consider being an important part of romance.”

I think there's a reason people don't consider breakups an important part of romance. Games are about escapism and fun after all. There's no way I'd pay $70 to get frustrated and get something as unpleasant as a relationship breakup in a game. Fine, let it be, if someone likes it, as an extra option that doesn't get in the way and doesn't take a lot of resources away from the main romance line. I believe that romance in the game and lines for the player should be made for those players, who love the character, and all this side stuff like breakups and fights can be added as an option for those, who want to break up the romantic relationship, but not in the amount of tons of nasty lines for Tav for more than half of the content with no possibility to say “I love you”, hug and kiss gently (which is unfortunately the case in the Ascended Astarion romance). The possibility of a breakup is a common sideline for romance, yes, it should exist in RPGs, but to give it so much importance, to define the romance by it, is ridiculous. But the haters really fucked up AA fans with their “you can't break up with him”. And it's worth pointing out the hypocrisy of praising “Endless Thirsty Fan Art” and sex speedruns on the one hand, and on the other - note the very title of the article, “Baldur's Gate 3 writer's explanation of Astarion's ‘bad’ ending is a wake-up call for players lusting over RPG characters.” Players are being insulted and called gooners for… Wanting to help their beloved character in a plot quest! Just to prevent a tragic outcome for him with “Astarion will remain a spawn forever” and a finale that looks and is essentially a poorly executed quest for an evil companion. And I'm not at all against the first one, I fully support diversity and providing different options in games so people can fulfill whatever sexual fantasies they want without any judgment, but just without this kind of hypocrisy and trying to insult and ruin the game for a portion of the audience who paid the same price for the game as everyone else.

In the game Baudelaire Welch seems to have decided to “shame” fans of vampire romance - in the dialog of non-romantic Astarion after meeting Oblodra in Act 2 we can hear his line: “There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire, is there?” and their favorite “degradation” (“It's degrading that people like her fall for it”). This gives haters the opportunity to compare fans of the Ascended Astarion to this very same Oblodra. In order to learn about Oblodra's attraction to Astarion one must play through the game without having a romance with him. Otherwise the meaning of the insult slips away (as it did for me the first time I saw such a comparison, thanks to Arachnomancer for commenting on my previous post with detailed lines). How unrealistic this line sounds in the world of Faerûn, where vampires are feared and clearly not “desired”, well, it's a pretty well known phenomenon that when the agenda comes to the forefront, the lore of the world, realism and other things of little importance to preach cease to matter. It's possible to imagine that Astarion might have encountered something similar in the past, but in the rest of the game, except for this place, attitudes towards vampires are shown differently. In the romantic dialog, Astarion can say, “People don't trust vampires - perhaps understandably - so I needed to get someone on my side. And seducing you was easy, frankly.” He needed protection, because people don't trust vampires, which sounds logical. And the motivation to seduce Tav for the sake of that protection made sense too. Astarion admits that Tav was his first (in terms of a bite, the first person to voluntarily give him their blood, and Astarion took it as a gift “This is a gift, you know. Thank you - I won't forget it.") And he definitely was hiding the fact that he was a vampire, when he was forced to seduce victims for Cazador. The Curse of the Vampyr book (the first of which is literally right in the first tomb) - also illustrates how vampires are treated in the world of Faerûn. Companion reactions after the bite scene. The girl in the sewers (whom Petras has invited, in order to drink her dry, celebrating what he thought would become his freedom), we can tell her that the guy she's waiting for is a vampire, and she'll be scared and completely unwilling to stay waiting for the most desirable lover. Astarion also didn't want to risk stirring our desire too quickly and hid the fact that he was a vampire, early in the adventure. What fans of vampire romance got was preachy, and RPG fans got degradation. The degradation of the genre, when in Act 3 you suddenly get an RPG novelization.

And it's funny how with one hand, bestiality is added to the game (Baudelaire Welch also authored the infamous bear scene, which they say was done for the sake of some “horny shitposting” fans who do it with their friends on Discord, you can see more about it in their “Romance Design in Video Games” lecture below, and game magazines have also written about it, “A sort of shit-eating grin was on my face when I was pitching it”), and the other hand is an accusation for players who like vampire romance. Well, okay, they don't accuse all vampire sexualizers (if you don't let Astarion Ascend, he won't stop being a vampire, but he is allowed to be sexualized), they only accuse players who like healthy vampire romance (when the vampire is healthy, not burning or starving), and try to claim that we're “experiencing the pleasure of degradation”.

But, the main thing is that Larian did not force players to finally break up with the game and changed Tav's facial expressions in the kisses to adequate ones. The animations of the D/s scenes for Ascended Astarion's kisses were filmed separately, and the words “scared, sad and pained”, (were discovered by the modders in the game's code) were used in order to draw the facial expressions of a rape victim on the faces of the player characters as a “Valentine's Day gift”. There is no confirmation that this was the entire studio's idea. Stephen Rooney, sadly, left Larian before patch 6 was released and he had nothing to do with these disgusting scenes. Patch 7 fixed this, and most likely led the kissing to the version of the content that was previously intended as fanservice. During Larian's appearance at PAX West 2024, when answering a question about sexuality in BG3, Adam Smith mentioned that they purposely added "kinky" sexual scenes into the game to make things more authentic, and that they consider that a good thing that they're proud of. He said, "We wanted it to feel authentic... I don't think sexuality should be controversial; different kinks, arousals, fetishes, whatever it might be... I think it's okay for things to be sexy.” Larian positioned the romance in BG3 as a dating simulator before, and by including BDSM romance, they chose Astarion for the dominant role because he's best suited for it. And the horrible faces for the player character is like Welch's attempt to “finish their novel” (as their fans used to threaten that “the novel must be finished”) at the expense of a wonderful character written by Stephen Rooney and at the expense of cheating players (patch 6 in regards to Astarion's fanservice was a fraud and consumer deception - given that the genre of the game purchased was RPG and the roleplay in the romance line was absent and replaced with low quality fanfic). Unfortunately, these scenes were also triggering and triggered PTSD in many people. (“New Astarion kisses in Baldur's Gate 3 have a disturbing effect on fans and here's why”).

Perhaps Mx Welch thought this was some kind of uniquely innovative approach. In his lecture Romance Design in Video Games:

Welch presented a list of what they think will make romances in games more interesting for players (and what I would call “A Practical Guide: How to Make a Player Unhappy in Your Game with Romantic Relationships.”):

It seems like the disgusting “kisses” designed to victimize the player by stripping them of agency and painting horrible faces on their characters was a failed attempt at realizing point 6. And the haters “fandom” with their “Cazador 2.0”, “soul loss” and other nonsense that is based on nothing is a realized point 5. So seeing gaslighting in a BG3 game definitely succeeded, albeit not in the romance of the game, but in the fandom. In AA romance, there's an opportunity for a roleplay of a toxic partner, all the negativity goes through Tav - lines for Tav (like “You're like Cazador”), imposed facial expressions, no opportunity for roleplay there, where it might have elicited some particular deep emotional reaction from Astarion (you can see the potential of AA's romance in chatbots, even in hater's chatbots, how much he loves and reacts if the player has the opportunity to write their lines, but, in the game, alas, we have a scene of 4 negative lines). Plus “mind-reading” with “degradation” is an imposition on the writer's (Welch's) position. It's a tricky screenwriting move (but “tricky” in a bad way) - the line reflects Astarion's inner state, combined with his character, his inner pain and his self-esteem because of his trauma, and that's what Welch used. But combined with the inability to do anything about it, we get trapped. We have to validate this self-perception of his, while at the same time allowing the author to stigmatize ourselves and fit us to their narrative, as in the tale of the Little Mermaid, who gives her voice to the Witch to save the prince. Plus it gives an opportunity for someone to take that line as if Astarion sees Tav as inferior to himself, or twist it to favor their propaganda. The dialogue scene before this is also a deliberate violation of all laws of the RPG genre - it's purposely done this way, in order to make the player look like a “sexualizer” and give a “feel bad ending”. I believe Welch's contribution is primarily Tav and the lines for Tav (yes, and all those relationship-breaking lines). Of course, Welch did some good stuff ("Aeterna Amantes. Lovers forever, until the world falls down” is their line, according to their fans, the scene of Act 2 is also good and very touching). Exactly what other Ascended Astarion lines belong to their pen is probably unlikely to be known for sure. I've read that Stephen Rooney wrote the epilogue and Astarion at the party after the epilogue, but I have no confirmed evidence of that. But it seems true - the adorable animations of Astarion at the party - the bat, the costume, the way Astarion throws the cup, plays with daggers, etc. seem to me to match Rooney's writing. And the lack of hugs and kisses just for us, just for our fandom, just for our Astarion is more like Welch's solution. Although, considering that even after Welch left, even though they changed our faces, none of the other requests were fulfilled, perhaps the blame for the deterioration of Astarion's romance also lies with those who officially own the rights to the BG3 characters - Wizards of the Coast. Shortly before Patch 6, Wizards of the Coast had mass layoffs of people, many of whom had worked with Larian and interacted with them about the BG3 game. At the very least, don't blame it solely on Welch, there were probably other individuals willing to shove this trashy preaching to players in romance and label Astarion as an “abuser”.

I would also like to call attention to this quote from the Baudelaire Welch lecture:

“In this dialogue, I directly wanted to make the player feel bad for having learned the mentality of click-the-right-dialogue-options-to-get-sex-in-video-games, as that's kind of been baked into us as romance players of previous generations of RPGs. In this scene, it's you click the sex options and you'll further traumatize a traumatized person.”

Yes, this is referring not to the Ascended Astarion romance, but the heavy and rare scene where Tav can force Astarion to have sex with them during the act 2 confession scene. Yes, it's a hard scene, I watched it on video, Astarion is really painful to watch. But… Where has the esteemed author seen players with this “mentality,” who will actually click on lines with a hint of sex in any situation? Specifically this scene in BG3 is only experienced by game testers, with the desire to check all of Astarion's reactions, to watch maximum content, and they choose every possible option to get to know the game and the character from all sides. Well, or post a rare scene on their youtube channel. Even the very first line that leads to this scene, “I was hoping that as a reward for my support you'd throw yourself to me” is for a roleplay of an extremely weird character, to whom a headshot won't damage their brain. And even though the scene itself is strong, heavy and tough, but no one sees it, “roleplaying themselves” and choosing what they want to choose. Treating the players like idiots, that will actually choose this and wanting to “teach them something”? Again, there's no problem with that in this scene, it's not in the main playthrough, you can watch it from youtubers, you can play it yourself in “test mode” to analyze the character and learn more about Astarion. But, ahem, isn't the same attitude shown already in the main story scenes, like the dialog after the Ascension and the attempt to show/impose something through a check that you can only agree with? I really wish that authors of games in the RPG genre, where player agency and choice are supposed to be present, would realize that players are mostly adults and are not going to “learn” anything in games, much less dislike any kind of “preaching” towards them. And if you consider the audience to be idiots, it might produce bad writing, and the audience, in turn, will certainly judge the quality of such writing and criticize it. True wordsmiths may influence the audience, but they don't try to “teach” or “force”. They tell a story - logical, coherent, with room for roleplay and choice. You probably need to be a genius and a master of manipulation to introduce some ideas without being noticed, but it's very difficult, it's better to just write a good script.

Baudelaire Welch is also very fond of fanfics:

“The last part of how do we make our romance feel better for players? Wish fulfillment is forgettable. Players who go to write fanfiction are just as interested in hurt as they are in joy. Hurt is something to analyze. Hurt is a dilemma, and behind it is a moral choice.”

“I know because I was writing fan fiction about Baldur's Gate 3 before I worked on it”.

“It feels like a watershed moment in gaming history, where the fanfiction community felt like we were not a subculture within a fandom, but the majority audience that the game was catering to”.

Well, it doesn't take a statistical expert to realize that the main audience is still just playing the game and not writing fanfics. And those who do write, write completely diverse plots and completely varying quality. There are quite a few beautiful, strong and interesting works written about Ascended Astarion, but there are also some nausea-inducing “abuser” fantasies. Patch 6 was only suitable as a video insert for this, rather disgusting, mediocre and very far from the real image of Astarion category of fanfics. It's not the best option to take a small fraction of the total number of players (those who write fanfics at all), from them choose an even smaller fraction - those who write crappy fanfics, and make a romance for them, screwing up the story for the main consumer - those who bought the game according to its genre (RPG) and with faith in the already known Baldur's Gate setting.

Welch is also known to have worked on Dark Urge and on Astarion's dialog for Dark Urge:

The post with this message has been removed from Reddit. An Imgur link with a screenshot of the post was saved by one of the commenters. The quality is poor, so here's a reprint:

"It was me! So thank you! I am the Dark Urge writer, but I worked on writing for Astarion for several months during crunch. Because I had the opportunity to, I added a lot of extra interactions between the two characters. That’s why Astarion gets a bunch of I dialogues for the Dark Urge, and none of the other characters do. I'm sure we would have liked to have every character repeatedly check in on the dark urge, but there wasn't really time/budget for it. I just was working on the two characters at the same time and wanted to squeak in him being super supportive and worried about you throughout the game.

Neil absolutely killed it, though. I'd totally forgotten I'd added the scene where you try to break up with Astarion because you're worried about endangering him, and he absolutely doesn't let you.

But the Neil delivery of those lines have now totally burned that moment into my brain endurindly, he's just so sweet and anxious for you there".

Baudelaire Welch was selected for the role by Swen Vincke himself because their "mother worked partially on the script for Silence of the Lambs, the movie". (source: "The lead writer of Baldur's Gate 3's Dark Urge was extremely squeamish at first, which shows you can do just about anything if you set your mind to it.")

In general, that's the major of what I know about Baudelaire Welch's contribution to AA history (I apologize for the occasional digression in the form of my own assessments of this or that aspect, but it affected me a lot as a player at the one time). And about what you said about “the story was watered down” even though it was really only the expression on Tav's face that changed - the player character (!), a character that in RPGs has always belonged to the player and the job of a good writer is to provide enough choices and reactions for the roleplay so that the player can find a suitable option and make their own choices - that's a good point. Haters constantly claim that we were demanding a “rewrite of AA”, whereas we were demanding a return of agency, actually, something that has always been there in the same wonderful old games that Mx Welch criticized for supposedly superficial romance. These games didn't have such superb motion capture as BG3, thanks to that and Neil Newbon's superb play Astarion and his romance was so beautiful and clingy, and of course thanks to Stephen Rooney for creating Astarion (a character like Astarion hasn't been in any game before either). But the romance in these old games was written perfectly. I never had such problems with roleplaying as in BG3, in any RPG game I've played, I always had enough lines and reactions, so it can't be called some kind of picky or inflated requirements, if all other games of this genre were fine with it. In interactive novels, where you play as some ready-made character with their own prescribed personality, who act independently in some scenes, and somewhere you can choose options/replies for them and these options are limited - this approach is perceived normally and will not be an imposition, you may not like the character, but it happens. But for an RPG, having the player create their own character/self is just bad writing. As if you “have to” feel, perceive events the way the author demands. No, it's authors who have to write in such a way that immersion is not interrupted. And those whining about “rewriting AA” basically wanted the PCs to be part of their “story” and Astarion had nothing to do with it. By the way, Astarion himself is really great in the romance, I love all his lines, so for the lines of Astarion that were written by Baudelaire Welch, I can only thank them. But not for “Tav.” In general, the very idea of forcing a reaction and trying to fit the PC to “their own vision” is a big mistake. I'll make my decision to buy the next Larian game based on whether they'll treat Tav as a “storytelling tool” or make an RPG with enough roleplay and choices. And whether they'll listen to some next bunch of haters who want other players' beloved character to “not have a happy ending”. After patch 6, Astarion's “romance” looked like this:

(From Larian Forum, by Ametris)

Fortunately, this “novel” was not completed, and player agency is now present in the game, at least for those players who are fans of D/s romance. Modders have returned agency to the rest of us (at least PC players).

And yes, if someone starts “accusing” me and other people who gave negative criticism of Welch's work of “hating”, I would ask them to first find out the difference between “hating” and evaluating the author's work. Well, and evaluating the author's attitude towards the audience, based on their statements (it's pretty weird to spit at an audience and expect the audience to take it enthusiastically). Baudelaire Welch is currently no longer at Larian, and I wish them every success in their future endeavors.

[the-silver-chronicles]

Thinking of an AU where Adam sold Silva off to Joseph and Eden’s Gate (in some delusional sense that she would destroy it because honestly that’s the only reason he’d ever give her to the Project) as a child and the Voice convinces Joseph to take her up as a protege. Maybe Paul plays a part into this AU, maybe he doesn’t. Not sure with him yet, since this would be the first time they wouldn’t meet under regular circumstances (the “save the child from drowning and visit her occasionally and eventually gain her trust and adopt her then and there” kind of circumstance).

Anyway, it made me realise that “holy shit, the idea of an Eden’s Gate/Seed-aligned Silva is an utterly terrifying concept” regardless how it happens… because this is a version of Silva who is willing to look past child sacrifices, mass murder and oppression (depending on whether or not these had happened to her in this timeline/s). This is a version of Silva who is more than willing to forgo morality to do as she pleases. A more selfish and malicious Silva.

Could be even worse than the Seeds combined because she’s also better than them too. Opens up a horrific can of worms. The amount of potential this has.

God the Resistance and whichever deputy unlucky enough to face her would be so super fucked. Doesn’t matter if she has learned something (bad) from her experiences with Adam and Paul (probably Apostle-aligned), or if she took an interest in some of the things they taught her but through the Seeds this time around, Hope County would be dealing with a Silva who can physically, psychologically and emotionally outwit, overpower, and destroy them… at any time if she wanted. A very dangerous opponent with a strategic prowess matching up to Jacob and Alexander (probably because they helped perfect her capabilities).

I don’t think most of Eden’s Gate’ members would be safe, as she’s likely prioritising the Seed Family and the select few people she likes.

(More possible ideas! Maybe she managed to convince a GFH/Resistance member to join Eden’s Gate in this timeline? Maybe she has a greater popularity and influence over the Eden’s Gate community than Joseph does? Maybe this was the Voice’s plan? Maybe it needed Joseph to raise the perfect Prophet for it? Endless ideas! I must write it down!)

[obxsummer]

leave me again ii // rafe cameron

pairing: rafe cameron x routledge!reader (she/her), ex!jj maybank x reader

summary: you left the cut with nowhere to go. it’s rafe cameron that finds you and shows you the life you deserved to live

warnings: sorry jj lovers, that man does not get our girl back so sad jj and probably ooc rafe but i love it when that man is soft

navigation || part one

--

Six months.

It had been six months since any of the Pogues had seen you. No social media, no sight of you around town, no letters. Nothing.

The past six months left you to do a lot of reevaluations. You’d walked aimlessly after the group had left for the dive with nothing but your backpack and phone, no destination in mind. Until you found one.

“Lost or something?”

“Fuck off, Rafe,” Your response was instant as you continued to walk without sparing him a look. The car shifted into a different gear, you guessed by the noise, before Rafe was hopping out to approach you.

“Are you okay?” When you didn’t answer, he moved in closer and grabbed your shoulder before turning you to face him. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

You stared at him with the knowledge that you probably looked like a mess with the tear streaks across your cheeks. While Rafe had a lot of issues with your friends and brother, he usually stayed clear of you. Whether that was because you were close with Sarah, or what, you didn't know.

Twisting your fingers together, you dropped your gaze as tears started to build again. “You ever watch someone you love choose someone else over you, every single time?”

The question felt like a punch in the gut to Rafe. He had. His whole life he watched his dad choose Sarah. Watched his mom choose another family over him. Watched Wheezie choose another sibling over him.

“Get in, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”

Six months ago, you hopped in Rafe Cameron’s Range Rover and left The Cut behind. You didn’t question the decision, knowing you’d worry about everyone else before taking care of yourself, and that clearly didn’t work in the past. You felt horribly guilty about leaving John B with no indication whether you were okay or not, but you knew if one of them found out, JJ would be busting down the door to Rafe’s bedroom before you had a chance to say no. 

While you weren’t sure what the original intentions had been, Rafe was so different with you after bringing you back to his new house. One he’d bought after selling Tannyhill, free from the haunting of his father and the screams that echoed off the walls, he had turned it into a safe space for himself and anyone he invited in.

Things blossomed quickly and you realized the Rafe in front of you was not the bully, coke-head addict you’d once known. He was such a gentle person, and so much more attentive to you than JJ had ever been. Whether it was making you breakfast in bed before you left for the day, or prepping a warm (actually warm, like hot water you’d hadn’t had in forever) candle lit bath, or popping an expensive bottle of wine just for you to taste, he was there in ways nobody had been. You were his girl, his only girl, and you never once had to question that.

Rafe had even invited you to sit in on his investment meetings and he was slowly pulling your name into his business so you’d have a professional background to grow into. You were steadily becoming an educated little couple in his home, something he was so proud and grateful for. He had someone to lean on for advice and give him fresh eyes on new projects with no judgment or fear of anger. The two of you soaked up your bubble of peace for as long as you could before shit hit the fan. 

Little did you know, on the other side of the island with your brother, there had been absolutely no peace. John B and JJ barely spoke, everything ending in an argument when they did. Pope was sick of playing mediator, and Kie had more of less shut down out of guilt. Sarah was still searching for you, but you’d gone ghost. Cleo was treading lightly with the knowledge that everything would explode eventually. 

So, they did what they could, and dove into treasure hunting. When JJ pulled the amulet out of his pocket in the back of the Twinkie, John B’s emotions were mixed. Sure, he was stoked that he’d found the object the group was looking for, but he wished you were here. It was your birthday, and John B was inches away from losing his shit without you.

“Dude, are you okay?” Pope asked as the group stood in the office area of the house, trying to find more information on the amulet’s inscription.

John B tossed the heavy object on the desk in frustration. “No, I’m not okay! We can find decades old treasure like it’s the easiest thing ever, but we can’t find jack shit about my sister? That’s bullshit, Pope. And you know it.”

Pope knew things would be sensitive today. Even JJ woke up grouchy, which John B told him was deserved since he caused your absence in the first place. The lack of your presence weighed heavy on the group, so Pope suggested going to visit one of your favorite beach spots. 

Little did he know what he was getting himself into.

--

“Rafe!” The house was filled with your laughter as Rafe twirled you in the kitchen lighting, your favorite song playing from the interactive speaker on the counter. The two of you had spent the day together, visiting the country club for lunch before Rafe took you shopping for something to wear tonight.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Lemme love on you, it’s your birthday” He mumbled as he pressed soft kisses into your neck, hands squeezing your hips teasingly. The soft fabric of the dress he’d picked out covered your frame, the color matching your skin perfectly. 

You hummed in content, fingers holding his biceps tightly as if your knees would give out any second. “You loved on me a lot this morning.”

“Can’t help it.” Rafe’s thumb traced your bottom lip before he kissed you softly. “You make it so easy.”

The two of you got lost in each other for a few more moments, soaking up the quiet as the orange sunset started casting through the windows. Today had been the best day you’d had in so long and you were so grateful of Rafe for giving you so much patience and love.

It had taken time for you to adjust to this kind of life. You walked in here with three outfits to your name, a busted cell phone, and a stuffed animal John B won you at the town festival as kids. And Rafe embraced every bit of it, let you keep your Pogue pieces while building you a life around it that was filled with items you needed but would never ask for, all while loving you so gently.

You climbed out of his car (technically the one he’d bought you but you refused to acknowledge that), and stepped down into the soft sand below. This was your spot, the spot you came to whenever you needed to clear your head or take a moment alone. You’d shared it with Rafe shortly after everything changed, and now, it was a shared spot that you both considered special.

Rafe moved around the car to grab your hand and guide you toward the area he had organized for the two of you. A small white table had been set up with your favorite snacks and two glasses of wine, surrounded by the fluffiest blanket and pillows you’d seen. 

“Did you do this?” You squeezed his hand tighter, tears in your eyes at how sweet and thoughtful the gesture was. Your jaw dropped as the two of you walked closer; everything was thought out down to the tiny forks you loved so much being there to pick up the appetizers. 

“Course I did, baby.” Rafe kissed your temple softly and grabbed one of the glasses to hand to you before taking hold of his own. You clinked your glass against his, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply in appreciation.

And then everything went to shit.

“What the fuck?”

Rafe’s hand tightened against your lower back, both of you looking over to see the handful of figures standing a few feet away. Your heart went to your throat went you made eye contact with your brother, whose hand was wrapped in Sarah’s. JJ stood behind him along with Kiara, Pope, and Cleo, all of them looking at you expectantly.

“Shit,” You whispered and took a step back from Rafe, eyes meeting his in dread. His expression had hardened at the sight of JJ, all the anger rushing back when he thought about how you’d been treated in the relationship, how unfair everything had been. You clocked the frustration in his gaze and placed your fingers on his cheek to redirect his focus back to you. “Don’t. I’ll handle it.”

Rafe’s jaw ticked but he didn’t argue as you slipped your wine glass back into his hand and left his side to approach the group standing in front of you. You weren’t even worried about JJ or Kie, you were worried about John B more than anything.

“Hi,” The greeting was so quiet you almost didn’t hear yourself. How do you talk to people you disappeared on six months ago?

John B’s only response was to pull you into the tightest hug he had ever given. You stumbled with the force of his body colliding with you before regaining your balance and returning the embrace. 

“You’re okay,” He repeated the words to himself as if convincing his mind that they were true before stepping back and holding your cheeks in his hands. The smile on his face was huge, and you were so so confused. “Holy shit.”

“Hi,” You laughed quietly, placing your hands on top of his. “I’m so sorry.”

John B shook his head, his thumb brushing the random tear from your cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I told you to take a break, yeah? And you did.”

You glanced back to where Rafe was surprisingly conversing with Sarah with no anger in sight. The pit in your stomach slowly disappeared as you took them in and turned your attention back to John B. “I um… there’s a lot to catch you up on, and I want to tell you. I wanna tell you all of it, JB, but-”

“And I wanna hear it,” He reassured softly. “But someone put a lot of effort into your night and I don’t wanna steal any of it.”

You were so goddamn grateful for your brother. Pulling John B into another hug, you spared the look over his shoulder to see Kiara stomping away from the beach. You tried to keep a smirk off your face but it definitely made its way through. 

Stepping back from John B, you shared hugs with Cleo and Pope, promising that you would see them soon before you were face to face with the reason you made it here in the first place. JJ looked rough. His hair was chaotic, arms thinner than you remembered, and he just looked tired.

“I don’t want your apology,” You spoke as he opened his mouth. “And it looks like you have a girlfriend to go find anyway.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” JJ replied quickly as he stared at you. “Not anymore.”

You pulled your lips in and shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you around, JJ.”

He reached a hand out toward you when you moved to walk away. You paused just out of his reach and looked back. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

You nodded. “I know. I should be thanking you actually, because if you had said it back to me that day, I wouldn’t have found something so much better.”

And with that, you walked away from JJ and the empty promises he had always given, walked away straight into the arms of someone who would give you the world and more, if you just so much as asked.

--

navigation 

[ds-angel1]

could you do a rafe!drugdealer x reader who is constantly talking about reader’s weight

cw: a lot of talk about weight, calories and scale mentioned, very toxic rafe, mention of sex, crying

It started small. Just a flicker beneath the surface, too subtle to name, too quiet to call out.

"You gonna eat all that?" he asked one night at Tannyhill, eyes locked on your plate as it had offended him. His tone was light, almost teasing, but his gaze didn’t waver.

There was something coiled beneath his words, something not entirely playful. You paused, fork halfway to your mouth. He tilted his head slightly, that smug half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Just saying. You looked better last summer.”

You laughed it off, cheeks burning with confusion. Back then, you still did that, smiled through the sting, convinced yourself it wasn’t a red flag, just a weird comment from someone who loved you. That’s what love was, right?

Honest. Raw. Unfiltered.

But it didn’t stop there. It never does.

At the gas station a few weeks later, you grabbed a bag of chips from the shelf, craving something salty. Without a word, he plucked it from your hands and dropped it back like it was poison. “Empty calories, baby. You already said your jeans felt tight, remember?”

His voice was low, edged with casual disdain. You looked around, embarrassed, but no one seemed to notice. Or maybe they did and just didn’t care.

In his truck, he’d reach over and rest a hand on your thigh, not lovingly, not protectively, but like he was inspecting something. Measuring. Evaluating. His fingers would press into your skin, hard enough to leave a dent. “Gotta keep this from getting out of control,” he’d mutter, almost to himself, like you were some project he was managing, some vessel he needed to sculpt into something acceptable.

Then came the scale.

He bought it one evening after dinner, setting it in your shared bathroom as if it belonged there.

“Step on.” When you hesitated, his voice dipped, smooth but dangerous. “Why? Got something to hide?”

On days the number dropped, he’d grin, pressing kisses to your shoulders, your collarbone, your lips. “See? When you listen to me, things go right, angel.”

His praise felt warm, intoxicating, like sunlight on your skin after a cold spell.

But if the number stayed the same, or worse, crept up, the warmth vanished. He’d go quiet. Distant. His silence stretched through the day like a wall you couldn’t break through. No goodnight kiss. No affection. Just cold detachment, as if you’d failed some unspoken test.

He noticed everything. Every bite, every bloated day, every extra helping. Nothing escaped his attention.

“Two desserts now?” he said once at a dinner party, his voice low but sharp, just for you. “Your greed sickens me.” No one else at the table reacted, your friends were too caught up in their conversations, laughter echoing while your stomach dropped.

Later, after sex, those dizzying highs he was so good at crafting, he’d lie beside you, fingers idly tugging at the flesh on your waist. He’d pinch the soft part of your stomach, chuckling. “I probably weigh less than you at this point.”

You’d flinch, shrinking under the blanket, trying to turn away from him. But his grin only widened.

The next day, you fasted. The hunger was sharp, almost holy, and when he noticed, when he told you how proud he was, you felt a surge of victory. Like his approval meant you’d won something. Like his love was a prize you had to keep earning.

You cried more often. Quietly, mostly. Into your pillow, in the shower, on your way to work. But every time you fell apart, he was there, arms around you like a savior, like the only person who could piece you back together.

“I just want you to be perfect,” he’d whisper into your hair. “You know I love you more when you take care of yourself.”

It sounded like tenderness. It sounded like care.

But it wasn’t about health. And it was never about love.

It was about control. About reshaping you into something that made him feel stronger, more powerful, more admired.

Because to Rafe Cameron, you weren’t just his girlfriend. You were a mirror. And any imperfection he saw in you felt like a flaw in himself. Every pound on your body wasn’t just weight, it was a crack in his image, a threat to the story he was trying to tell the world.

And that’s the cruelest part of it all: how he convinced you, little by little, that your body was never truly yours to begin with.

[saetiate]

itoshi sae x f!reader (can be read as gender neutral), sae gets jealous and feels guilty that he hasn't been making enough time for you, and how he reconciles with you

sae’s eyes follows your figure as you stand at the arched glass of an array of cakes, watches as a man enters the cafe just to say hello to you.

he always watches you, even (especially) when you’re not looking. this is no different. the man is standing a little too close to you as you laugh at something he said, his hand coming up to brush something off your shoulder, and sae almost goes to interrupt. almost stands from his seat, sits up with his feet flat on the ground ready to pounce and do exactly that, except —

except he remembers this is the first date he’s taken you on in the last three months. that he hasn’t made the time for you in three months.

what kind of man, of boyfriend, does that make him? (what right does he have to prevent you from finding something better?)

“who was that?”

you’re happily propping back down on the seat across from him, telling him about which cake you ordered, when he asks.

“hm? oh! he’s from work, we’re on the same project,” you thank the barista as the cake is placed in front of you, wide-eyed with glee at the sweet treat.

“does that happen a lot?” he tries to act like it’s nothing, a hand resting gently on the table. “guys flirting with you?”

“what? sae,” you laugh. you laugh like it’s a joke and he doesn’t get it. “he wasn’t flirting, he was just saying hi. he was probably just being polite.”

sae wants to say he knows polite. polite is sitting across from an interviewer who’s asking stupid questions and answering them anyways. polite is saying thank you to the barista as they set your drinks down.

polite is not the way that man leaned into your space, the way his hand rested on your shoulder, the way his eyes drifted over your body.

“are you jealous?”

you look like you’re about to laugh again, incredulous. but it strikes him then. that even with the jewelry he bought you around your neck and wrist, he can’t stop everyone in the world from trying to have you. can’t prevent them from imagining you the way he has you.

“sae,” you try again, a bitterness in your tone that you try to swallow with a bite of sweet cake.

he just looks at you.

“you’re a pro athlete.” there’s silence from him, a deep breath from you when you realize he doesn’t see what you’re getting at. “you’re surrounded by models at every gala you go to.”

your cheeks are pursed to the side, tight lipped, as if a box with an unpleasant thought had fallen from the top shelf. the silence between you both stretches, a clink of ice melting. he’s looking at you (always is, don’t you know?), something nondescript over his face.

and then there’s a flurry of his graceful moves as his jacket drapes over your shoulders.

your doe-eyed, confused look at him makes his heart lurch, your hands going to wrap the jacket together around yourself automatically, like a subconscious note to the way he takes care of you, at how you still seek to surround yourself in the comfort of his cologne even after all this time.

(or maybe, especially, after he hasn’t seen you for a while.)

and then he’s cupping your jaw in one hand, the tips of his fingers delicate over either side of your cheek, his elbow resting over the table, bringing your faces close —

sae doesn’t do this. you and sae don’t do this. always careful with making sure you’re private, never overly affectionate in public, even in something like this secluded corner of a cafe.

“sae,” this time, you say his name with a soft warning, your hand coming up to rest on his arm, pushing gently as a reminder, but he doesn’t budge.

instead, his nose brushes yours, his forehead resting against yours. he breathes in sync with you, lets the closeness take over all his senses. your hand runs up his arm, squeezing the hard line of muscle there.

his lips brush against yours with a feather’s touch, moving to press a kiss to the corner of your lip instead.

you know itoshi sae best. this is as close as he gets to saying it.

something like you’re mine. something like i belong to you.

“let’s take the cakes home.” it’s a whisper against your skin. an apology for not being around, an unspoken promise that he will be going forward.

unspoken, but sae doesn’t break his promises.

thank you for reading :>

"you know itoshi sae best" is a line originally used by coco aka tohruies who sent me this lovely fic she wrote in my askbox

[artstennisracket]

Gamer!Patrick

who… you started dating in college. you guys met in your second year finance class after working on a project together. you thought he was cute but a little egotistical, always answering teacher questions without raising his hand. always contributing to class discussions aka saying his opinion louder than everyone else

who… always wears sweatpants or board shorts to class. no in between. always paired with his nike killshot’s, a watch his father bought him, and soft sprays of his expensive tom ford cologne. he clearly doesn’t care what people think of him. he’s also stupidly charismatic. all the business professors love him.

who… always insists on hanging out at your dorm instead of his off campus apartment. you never knew why until one day he finally gave in. his place was nice. expensive. he said his parents paid for the rent. it was a two bedroom apartment that he shared with his best friend Art but he was rarely home. but Patrick’s room was a disaster. dirty clothes everywhere, half eaten cups of ramen, half drunk water bottles, and suspicious socks strewn all over that made your stomach turn at the thought of what they were probably used for.

who… essentially ignores you everytime he’s on the game. his pc would be the only source of light in his room most nights. even if you spent the night, hoping he’d join you to sleep, most times he wouldn’t until an ungodly hour. staying up until 4/5am screaming at his teammates through his headphones, you’re surprised you can even sleep.

who… jerks off to porn videos of his favorite video game characters. he would never tell you, but one day when you’re over at his place, making cereal in the kitchen (because there’s no real food there), Art outs him. he busts out laughing saying “oh you didn’t know? yeah you should ask him about that.” you’re not even sure how Art knows this information.

who… denies the accusation stating that “why the fuck would I do that? that’s fucking gross.” only for you to catch him jerking off at 4am to overwatch porn. t-shirt pulled up, hand shoved down his boxers, abs flexing, eyes locked onto his phone screen. he doesn’t even notice that you woke up until you inch closer to him and spot the visuals on his phone. he drops his t-shirt from where it was between his teeth, “it’s not—whatever. fuck you,” he groans, hand picking up its pace. so you pull his hair (for being a brat), kiss his neck, and whisper dirty things into his ear while keeps watching his phone, making him finish in record time.

who… loves when you sit under his desk to blow him while he’s playing. trying really hard to concentrate and play well but it’s hard. the obscene squelching noises everytime he hits the back of your throat, the drool falling from the sides of your mouth, your other hand toying with his balls at the same time. he has to mute his mic when his friends keep asking him why he’s breathing so hard. he calls you a slut for trying to get his attention this way, “such a fucking slut. only way you know how to get my attention huh? want all my friends to hear me? so they know how much of a whore you are for my cock?”

who… hates loves playing video games with you. he has to teach you a lot, and you keep forgetting which buttons do what. it’s cute at first when you guys are playing co-op games like It Takes Two, but eventually after you try to make an ‘easy’ jump 5 times (dying everytime) he grabs the controller from you and does it for you, “Jesus fuck, it’s not that hard.” playing fortnite is a hit or miss because sometimes it’s fun but eventually it becomes stressful since Patrick is carrying you, making all the kills but also trying to watch your back while you’re doing the Taste dance emote in your Sabrina Carpenter skin.

who… can’t function when he sees your halloween costume. you dressed up as Kitana from mortal kombat (with the help of Art since you wanted to surprise Patrick). back to back frat parties on frat row. you keep getting wolf whistled at as you guys walk from house to house. Patrick keeps at least one point of contact the entire night, he can’t keep his hands to himself. a hand on your waist, around your shoulder, on your thigh, on your ass. and his favorite obviously being when you dance on him. he makes sure neither of you drink too much that night so he can fuck you stupid when you guys get back to his apartment. he already texted Art earlier to fuck off unless he wanted to hear you getting wrecked. it’s sloppy and rough and of course you keep your costume on. he pulls out his phone to record while you guys are in doggy.

who… actually is really sweet. he builds you guys a house in minecraft (with cherry blossom wood as you requested). will always put himself in harm’s way when you guys go mining. so he takes the lead and if there’s a creeper or a zombie he takes care of it. goes on crazy stupid long adventures with you just so you can find an ocelot, “this is fucking stupid, jungles are rare biomes it’s gonna take us forever to find one.”

who… thinks you may actually be the first girl he’s ever fallen in love with. the first girl to see all of him and still accept him for who he is. the first girl who never tried to change him. the first girl to enjoy just sitting in his presence, even if he’s on the game. but he’d never tell you any of that. not unless you said it first anyway.

taglist: @tacobacoyeet @newrochellechallenger2019 @antxnxlla @hanneh69 @urmomsucksfrogs @ctrl-mari @cha11engers @jesuistrestriste

want to be tagged when I post? click here!

[bewitchedme-body-and-soul]

Random headcannons I have about Bob

Mdni some nsfw themes present

Warnings: not edited (maybe a lil ooc in some parts it’s been a few weeks since I last watched the movie and I haven’t bought it yet cause o want a physical copy), talks of periods, brief reference to bob’s past. Talks of oral, dom/sub play.

Tagging bb cause they get me @bbsgarbagebin

Loves to cuddle, or any type of physical affection with his partner actually

Not a big fan of pda but still wants the physical affection so I personally see him as the type of partner to link pinkies with you while you walk

Loves home dates over ones where you go out, especially movie night

blocked out a lot of his childhood and adolescence so definitely think he’d love a kids/family movie marathon (projecting a lil)

Great bf if you get periods, lots of cuddles, reheats the hot water bottle/heating pad without being asked, learns what you prefer to use and if it’s a non reusable product learns what brand and absorbency. Definitely did NOT start out as a great period bf, definitely went to yelena for help and then panicked when she said she couldn’t help him

I hate to be the one to say it but definitely a 3-in-1 man. I love him but you cannot convince me he doesn’t until someone shows him otherwise

The only part of his Sentry powers he can use without Sentry being present is his strength and invulnerability but he cannot control it. Like the invulnerability is obviously always there but I feel like he definitely sometimes overdoes it with the strength.

Probably has a few small possibly shitty tattoos, like I’m talking stick n pokes, they’re definitely a little faded and some scared over but they’re there.

NSFW from hear out

Not a virgin when you meet but not experienced.

Loves giving more than receiving, maybe a little awkward the first few times but once he gets the hang of it he memorizes what you like

Gets shy when receiving

Switch, soft but stern dom when he dominates, usually a service sub BUT can and will occasionally be a brat. Have you seen how sassy he is? Tell me I’m wrong. You can’t.

Gets turned on by domestic things, but mostly just turned on by his partner.

Because of the sentry project is refractory period is INSANE, can go for hours and will unless you want to stop.

Consent king, asks permission constantly

That’s all I have for now, but maybe I’ll post another at a different time. Who knows

[jarofstyles]

Flower

Hello… here is another mini series I started even tho I have other things I definitely need to finish…. But I’m kinda obsessed with them so I hope you guys like them 🫢

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 2 and 180+ exclusive writings!

WC- 2.8k

Warnings- y/n being oblivious, stupidly sweet h, things alluding to masturbation

“Y’know that isn’t normal for him, right?” Gia murmured as she came up next to Y/N. The low light of the bar had her squinting slightly, but thankfully the rock music wasn’t blaring too loud over the speakers over here. Coming after work, she had looked forward to meeting up with her friends for some much needed socialization- even if she was exhausted.

Confusion painted her features, looking at her friend with furrowed brows. “What are you talking about?” 

“Harry. He’s like, all over you. All the time” She looked over to the man  with a smirk, who had previously excused himself to participate in this round of pool. Y/N wasn’t much for the game so she stayed back in their seats, taking a moment to decompress. Or, try to. Sometimes it got a bit overwhelming with so many people talking at once.

“He’s just touchy, isn’t he?” Y/N had only known Harry for a few months, moving here to teach and one of her coworkers so kindly helped integrate Y/N  into her friend group. Harry owned a contracting business, actually, and Y/N had been getting lots of help from him on a variety of projects. Specifically, the latest project regarding his expertise in what sort of bannister she should have for the staircase. It was antique, and she didn’t want to be like those flippers she saw online who ruined the charm of old houses. If she wanted a brand new build, she would have bought one. “See?” 

Harry had his arm around Mitch, laughing about something probably a little dumb. The man was borderline tipsy but he’d just started his water rounds. He seemed to be an affectionate person, cuddly. At least to her and Mitch and Niall, all of whom seemed used to it. 

“Yeah, but not with women. He’s more reserved when it comes to them but not with you. Like… what was that before?” Her cheeks flushed slightly as dhe knew exactly when her friend was talking about. Harry had come back from the bar with their soft pretzel and another drink for her, and when he sat down she was promptly dragged into his lap. She’d let out a yelp but it turned into a laugh, settling in his thighs. Of course there was no admitting that her stomach had erupted in butterflies and she felt them kick up every time he rested his chin on her or squeezed her a little tighter to him. That the scent of his cologne had become something that grounded her anxiety in the moment, and it was weird how he seemed to be an anchor for her every time he pulled something like that. Somehow he just had that sort of effect on her.

Now that she mentioned it, she had noticed Sarah’s eyes widening when he did that, but she had assumed it was just for the pure audacity of a man manhandling a woman into his lap and ripping off a piece of cheese dipped pretzel and bringing it to her mouth. 

Y/N knew Harry was a cuddle bug. He was needy, like a pup, nosing and pawing his way into peoples hearts. But she assumed he did this sort of stuff with everyone. Maybe she wasn’t paying enough attention, but she had been too nervous to allow herself to think of his touches as flirtation. It would bring down the wall she’d tried to set there to not get her hopes up and look too deep into things. It had gotten her heart bruised a few times already. “Oh.” She replied, looking at her slowly emptying glass. “I, um, didn’t really think about that. He’s been pretty handsy for a long time.” He was also a flirt. Said things on purpose to make her flustered, but only in her ear so she’d get even more worked up. That was something he really liked to do- whisper in her ear or close to her to share something only with her. 

“Babes, you need to open your eyes. That man is completely gone for you. Smitten kitten. I was convinced you guys were secretly banging but I was trying to mind my business… but you mentioned a dating site earlier and I got confused.” She’d wholeheartedly thought they were already an item. “You need to talk to him or make a move or something. He’s all but pissed on you to claim you from the rest of the group, and he keeps looking over here to check on you. He acts like your boyfriend already, but there are more benefits you can cash in on if you just go for it.” She wiggled her brows making Y/N groan, hiding her head in her hands. 

She was way too sober for this conversation. 

Of course she had interest in Harry. Some feelings, even, but he’d never expressed interest in dating anyone. How could she not? He was almost unreal, checking loads of boxes she had in her mental list of ‘what my dream man would have’, including the dimple thing. The fact that he always said he was “waiting for the right one to find me”  when she’d ask floated back into her mind, clearing a bit of the fog that usually surrounded her when she thought about him. Had he been trying to tell her something?

Y/N could admit she wasn’t the most perceptive at times. She was a little oblivious, some could say, and didn’t read into signs well. The trait was something that used to get her into trouble when she was younger, her head always off in the clouds instead of where it needed to be according to the adults around her. It was possible she missed something, but she wanted to find out how to rectify that. 

“Speak of the devil…” Gia whispered, moving over a bit with a snicker as Harry seamlessly slipped back into the booth and ran his hand over her hair. Y/N felt his presence like a blanket, face turning to look at him and his concerned features. That little wrinkle between his brow she always noticed when he was upset or focusing heavily on something.

“Hi, petal. Something wrong? Headache?” He asked delicately in case the answer was yes. She got migraines frequently, as much as it sucked- but Harry had brought her some pain relievers while she was at work once to save her ass. God, her head was a mess but it wasn’t from the migraine this time around.

“No, I’m okay.” She lifted her head, feeling his hand slide under her hair to hold the back of her neck. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the chills settling on her skin as his thumb rubbed over the side of her throat, concern still etched on his features. “Was just a bit dehydrated but I’m fine now.” Her smile must not have been as convincing as she tried, his lips pursing as he shook his head. 

“Got t’be careful with eating the salty chips and then having the drinks… one glass isn’t gonna be enough.” He sighed. “Stay here for me, yeah? I’ll be right back, let me get you some water.” Without thinking he leaned in and pressed a peck to her temple, sliding back out of the booth leaving the spot tingling. Sitting there with rapidly blinking eyes, she watched the stretch of muscles flex under his tee shirt as he made his way towards the bar to order said water.

Okay. Yeah. Now that she mentioned it, she definitely knew he didn’t press little kisses to the rest of the girl’s heads, or give that amount of attention to her but… again, she had tried to ignore it. Tried not to get her hopes up.

“Girl… you’ve got to see it now.” Gia’s brows were raised up. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” 

Maybe she was right. 

——

“I’m okay, H. I promise.” Y/N laughed out the words as he brought the straw back to her mouth and gave her a look. “Fine. But I’m gonna have t’piss soon if you keep force feeding water down my throat.” She shook her head as she took another drink, making a show of swallowing it. “See? Done.” 

Harry’s eyes had dipped down to her throat when she swallowed and back up to her mouth, taking a beat too long to respond. “Good. You… we can’t have you feeling poorly tomorrow. Are y’still up for it?” His hand was traveling around her body. Not in a sexual way, not really, but over her shoulders. Rubbing her arm. Cupping the back of her neck. Fiddling with her hair. For the first time, Y/N could consciously see what Gia was talking about. Maybe it was sad she needed someone else’s validation of it first, but now that she had it she didn’t feel as crazy for the emotions she felt. 

“Of course.” Harry was taking her to a sick used bookstore that he had helped remodel a few years back. When he found out she had gotten back into a reading mood lately, he’d suggested it immediately over text under the table, which now that she was thinking about it…. It was obviously to ensure it would be just the two of them. No one else.  He wanted to take her by herself, a little outing for just the two of them.

Stupid butterflies kicked in overdrive. “I’ve been dying to grab some new books.”

“I know. I remembered it when the owner called me a few days back about something and knew I had t’take you.” He grinned, leaning in a bit as he tucked the hair behind her ear. “I really hope you’ll like it.”

Y/N didn’t have much time to respond before the chatter got louder and the group that had gone back up to the bar for more drink ambled back and climbed into the booth. This time it wasn’t as much of a shock when she was scooped up into his lap, but it still made her hot under the skin. Her tummy swirled as he wrapped one solid arm around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, the other running over her thigh. It wasn’t suggestive, closer to her knee as he began to rub his thumb over the soft skin there. 

For some reason it was getting to her, making her worked up. The gentle touches, the wholesome nature of it made her feel a bit ashamed as she felt herself throb between her thighs, but it only got worse when he adjusted her in his lap, lifting her like it was nothing. Of course he had strength, the man hauled lumber by himself and did all sorts of superhuman shit when it came to construction, but it still shocked her every time she got to experience it first hand.

Taking a moment to think about it, it was always apparent that he was a beautiful man with a beautiful body. One thing that she really liked were his arms. Just as a whole. Hands, arms, how they’d built out a bit from all the hands on work. His hands could be a little rough with some callouses from those tools, but her grandma always did tell her that was the sign of a hard working man. It wasn’t something she focused on before because she had tried to deny the possibility of not only rejection but not being able to be in the friend group if things went sour..  At the moment she was past that. 

She could see the vein in his arm just a bit, near the anchor tattoo. His hand curled over her knee, almost possessively. This entire position was him claiming her. Realizing now he’d never pulled any of the other girls as close as he did her made her head spin. Hell, he really didn’t do much than give a friendly hug or hand to help them if they were stumbling. Fuck, he could actually feel something for her. Far past friendship.

“You’re quiet.” His words were so close they almost vibrated in her ear, making her startle a bit. “Shit, sorry Petal. Didn’t mean to scare you.” The little smile given to her made its way into her bloodstream, heating her up the longer he looked at her. “Why are you in your head, hm? Tired?” 

The way he spoke to her was so tender and sweet… gah! Now that she was allowing the possibility to be a thought, it was shaking her up. 

“Yeah, getting tired.” She wasn’t lying.  Her Friday classes had been a handful. That was the truth. “Need to take a long shower and sleep until an hour before you come to pick me up.” 

“Sounds like a good plan. What kind of soap or shampoo do you use?” He asked, a noticeable shift in his voice. A little deeper, softer for her ears only. It was intimate, she realized. How he spoke to her privately with her tucked in his lap. Her body melted further into him, but the lump in her throat had expanded from the realization. “You always smell fuckin’ amazing.” His nose skimmed over the side of her jaw making her exhale shakily. He was taking an inhale of her as he hugged her body against him. Her poor vibrator was in for it when she got home. 

“Uh- it’s like a coconut citrus mix?” She had to think about it. It was hard to focus on anything with her revelations at hand and the man of the hour touching her so liberally. Like she was his to touch. It wasn’t disrespectful and she knew he was the first person to read her body language- hell, he probably could read her mind better than she could process her own thoughts. But it was still sinking in, the feelings gripping her stomach. “Thank you. I try my best. No one wants to be stinky.” Nose crinkling in disgust, she felt him shake his head against her. 

“Trust me when I say you’re the best smelling person I’ve met. Wouldn’t complain if all my things smelled like you.” Oh? He didn’t elaborate, but there was a barely there kiss to the hinge of her jaw rendering her speechless. His reaction was to place his chin back on her shoulder, interjecting into Niall’s rant while Y/N sat there trying to process what that was. 

Deciding to test something made her really nervous, but she wanted to see what he’d do. While he was always the affectionate one and she never pushed him away, she didn’t usually return it as much. He always sought her out and she reciprocated but she wasn’t one to initiate a lot… so she wanted to see what he’d do. 

Letting out a yawn, she leaned her head against his shoulder and let her head nuzzle into his neck. Without saying a word, her hand went for his on her thigh and weaved their fingers together, pulling it further up her thigh. Holding his hand, she could feel his body stiffen ever so slightly for a mere moment and his heart rate pick up. His other arm around her tightened, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “Comfy?” He mumbled to her.

“Mhm.” She nodded, letting his hand squeeze hers. He was just solid and sturdy. She could lean against him and feel protected in a way. Why she hadn’t tried this sooner she didn’t know, but she could hear his mood get better as he spoke. It was palpable, like he was vibrating a little bit, squeezing her hand every once in a while to remind her he was there. Or maybe it was for his own mind? 

It continued like this for a bit until everyone decided to get going, Harry being the last to stand. He was gentle about helping her off his lap, beating her to get on his feet and offered his hand to her to help her up. “C’mon, sleepy Flower. Time for your shower and sleep. Can’t have you too tired for the selection of books, hm?”  His hand steady on the small of her back, he led her to the car with a bit of a delay as they said good, a hug tight and lifting her off the ground a bit as he did so before having her promise to text when she got home. 

She fulfilled the promise, as well as her guilty vibrator session thinking about that tiny kiss on her skin and his hand on her knee, hoping that would make her chill out. It didn’t. 

[babyleostuff]

brain fluff rot. cause red hair sulky baby cheol is on my brain.

you were working at home because its a saturday. so while you and cheol is at home. he decided to be clingy while you do your project at your computer. he would pout tho when you stop petting his hair. (so beware!)

- 🖼️

i love your brain so much, how do you always come up with the fluffiest and cutest ideas ever 🫠

okay, so finally the day has come - you and cheol are both at home, at the same time, together. he has a day off, doesn't need to worry about anything (except for if he should get up at 4 or 5 pm or maybe stay in bed for the whole day), and he has a whole day for you and kkuma with no schedules.

except you decide to be a responsible adult and do some work which is so??? hello, he's right there, half naked in bed, all warm, bulky and cuddly, and you still prefer to work on your project instead of cuddle him in your bed. this is unacceptable, and cheol does not tolerate this behaviour.

you don't have to be looking at him to know he's pouting, with his lower lip jutted out adorably (do i have to mention his big sparkly eyes, begging you to come back to bed?). and oh my god, why are you so stubborn? he's been looking at you like that for the past hour and you still don't pay him even an ounce of attention. and choi seungcheol, general leader of seventeen, age 29 needs attention. a lot of attention.

at this point his hands are itching to touch you, like he's practically screaming "PLEASE HOLD MY HAND, BABY". eventually, he somehow succeeded in persuading you to come to bed with your laptop, mumbling something about it being more comfortable than your chair (even though he himself bought that chair, the most expensive one, to make sure it would be very very very comfortable and good for your back).

the second he covers you with the blanket his head is on your chest, and arms are tightly wrapped around you (he won't let you get away for the next couple of hours) (the rest of the day probably), and as a cherry on top he places your hand on his head clearly signalising he wants his head pats.

and you do just that, a bit amused with you boyfriends neediness. nonetheless, you keep patting his head, and running your fingers through his red hair strands that have already began fading, and stroking his cheek, and running your thumb over his hand that is resting on your tummy. all that to make up for the audacity to leave him alone in bed.

dare to stop petting his hair, though, and you're met with a very very whiny choi seungcheol, who starts talking in pout how you have betrayed him, and that you don't love him anymore.

this man just wants to be babied, i don't care if he's a hard dom or whatever - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL IS A SULKY BABY.

EXHIBITS OF POUTY RED HAIRED CHEOLLIE:

[lkfarrout]

I need everyone to understand that Stan and Mabel are SMART. Ford and Dipper are often portrayed as the smart ones while Stan and Mabel are the "stupid twins" but here's the thing: Stan and Mabel are just as intelligent as their twins, they just care about different things.

Alex himself, in one of the episode commentaries (Little Dipper, I believe) says that Mabel is just as smart, if not smarter than Dipper, and could beat him at chess if she wanted to. But she cares more about playing pretend with the cute horses instead.

Mabel is also a genuis when it comes to crafting. If you've never done something like knitting before, you have no idea how hard it is and how impressive it is for Mabel to make all the sweaters and things that she does. Maybe not all her sweaters are handmade, but the Waddles sweater and Goodbye Stan sweater are crazy impressive on their own. There's also Wax Stan, all the puppets, and many other examples. Those types of things take a lot of planning, math, practice, and expertise.

Stan is portrayed as being lazy and dumb in high school because he copies off of Ford in class and has a very lame science fair project compared to Ford, but Stan shows ambition in other areas during that time of his life.

For one, he builds what we can assume to be a sea-worthy vessel out of basically scraps of old wood ("Tony Stark was able to build this in a cave! With a box of scraps!"). I personally don't know anyone - much less a teenager - who could do that, especially in a time before youtube. And while Ford definitely did help Stan with the boat, we can tell by their feelings about it that Stan really did put in most of the work and care.

Another example, and a more subtle one, is that Stan was able to save up and purchase a nice, new (7 or 8 years old at the most) convertible catillac by the age of seventeen. He probably spent a lot of time working outside of school to accomplish that, while Ford was more focused on work inside of school. It's highly doubtful that Filbrick would have bought the car for Stan. Stan was highly ambitious during this time in his life, just like Ford was, but in different areas.

In the Land Before Swine commentary, Stan talks about working on the portal and says he had to learn "high school math". He really thought that what he was doing all that time was high school level math when really, it was probably closer to masters-level theoretical physics. This tells me that he probably didn't struggle with the math parts all that much, and because it wasn't super hard for him, he assumed it must have been high school level because he's far too dumb to do anything harder than that. Yes, it still took him 30 years, but that's mostly due to him not having access to all the blueprints that Bill helped Ford create.

All in all, I believe that Stan and Mabel are just as smart as their twins, but it isn't picked up on because the areas that they like to focus on are seen as silly and girly (in Mabel's case) or unprofitable and a waste of time (in Stan's case). In constrast, Dipper's intellectual efforts of solving mysteries, cracking codes, and doing things like converting a CD into a record (impressive!) further the plot of the show and are thus seen as more important. Just like how Ford's academic efforts are seen as profitable and thus more worthy of praise.

I'm of course not saying that Stan and Mabel are better than Dipper and Ford in any way - all the characters have their strengths and weaknesses and I love that about them. I love all four of the Pines Twins so much - they all have so much to offer and are all so smart. I really love this show and they way it creates depth with the characters, and I love analyzing them and writing commentary on them.

[twst-drabbles]

Heartslabyul 8

Summary: Ace and Deuce are fighting again. You watch from the window how the rest of the plant nymphs handle this, because you’re kinda in pain from a not so good fall, and horrible sleeping posture.

(Every time I imagine these little plant nymphs, I always imagine a kazoo playing in the background. Specifically for Ace and Deuce.)

While you’ve been slowly upping your daily activity, your body is by no means a tough one. Years upon years of just isolating yourself in your house and rarely venturing beyond the needed groceries really put a number on you. You’ve only started hiking, but even with the best safety measures, it was only a matter of time before you ate shit.

It was just real unfortunate that it was your knee that took the brunt of the fall. Never have you despised moist weather and mud more. You did hobble your way back home, and at first it wasn’t really all that bad, but then after a day of rest, the pain just got worse. It’s not enough to warrant a hospital visit, but you definitely can’t stand to put much weight on it.

Today is a day of suffering for you. If you didn’t want to do things before, you definitely don’t want to do anything now. You don’t even want to go outside to do your usual sun bathing routine.

Haa… you’re going to have skip Riddle’s tea party. He’s not going to like that. You really don’t want to do anything.

Which is why you didn’t bother getting up from the sofa when you saw Deuce pounce on Ace’s head. Ace screamed and ran around as a distressed chicken would, arms flapping and trying to pry Deuce off, but Deuce continued to whale on him.

You tapped your cane on the window’s edge. “Hey!”

But they didn’t listen, too caught up in whatever plant nymph arguments they’re having.

You shrugged. Oh well. They’ll probably solve it eventually. It’s happened before, where Deuce tried to use Grim as a steed but ended up crashing into Ace’s tulip garden project. At least this time, they’re not biting each other.

Off to the side, you heard a loud leaf whistle. So loud that it even temporarily stopped Ace and Deuce’s fighting. There was shuffling, lots of shuffling, and then there was a storm of Cater’s, all packed together and kicking up dust as they ran towards Ace and Deuce.

Trey, atop the shoulder of the front most Cater, looked very focused, as though on a hunt to take them down.

Oh. Oh, Ace and Deuce probably did something bad huh?

“Oh wow.” You turned off the TV and adjusted yourself, wincing when your knee twitched. It isn’t as swelled as it could be, but ugh, the muscles within hurt. The burning was horrible when you woke up this morning, but at least it’s stopped now.

To your right, there was a set of sharp clicks and clanks. You take a look and found Riddle to be there besides you, his little table and chair right next to your elbow as he set up his tea set.

Riddle attempted to return your gaze with grace and poise, but the stiffness of his body and the slight frown on his face told you all. He’s grumpy. And annoyed, but is trying so hard to keep it all in via that prince-like attitude.

You chuckled then pointed to the flattened Ace and Deuce after failing to fight off the stampede. “Aren’t you going to do something about that?”

When Riddle looked towards them, both Ace and Deuce’s head popped up and looked upon their main flower with dewy, watery eyes.

Riddle blinked, thinned his eyes, then sat himself on his chair and sipped on his tea, fully and completely ignoring them.

“Guess not, huh?”

Ace and Deuce flattened further, practically sinking into the grass beneath them, probably drowning in misery now.

Oh they definitely did something. Whatever they did, it wasn’t against Riddle but probably Trey or Cater. Or both of them. Either way, Trey is looking down upon them with crossed arms and eyes full of disappointment, now that the battle-fire vanished from him.

Riddle, with the help of his root system, set down your own teacup. One of the newer cups you’ve recently bought and placed in the shelf inside the shed. At the bottom of the teacup, there was an image of a hedgehog, napping the world away.

It was soon filled with Riddle’s own tea mixture. Riddle has stopped sipping his and stared unblinkingly at you. He’s watching, waiting for you to drink it all up. He’s not very good at hiding his concern for you.

You sipped, nice and slow, and laughed when two Cater’s carried off Ace and Deuce towards the little bathtub spring they’ve recently built. Trey followed with his brushes, and comically sized toothbrush on his back.

Riddle sighed and all the tension on his little shoulders left him.

“I’ll be fine.” You relaxed as well. “I just need a few days. I just took a really bad fall, is all.”

There was a light hum from Riddle as he sipped his tea. He grumbled a little, but fell silent upon you lightly patting his head. He huffed in embarrassment, but ultimately didn’t stop you.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi, hope you're alright. I came up with a story idea: the reader is married to Gasly's/Daniel's close friend but their marriage is hanging by a thread. The driver invites her to a few races so she can change the environment, they spend some time together and unexpectedly become lovers. And maybe later her husband is trying to fix their marriage but she and the driver can't stop thinking about each other

His Best Man || DR3

A/N: I took some creative liberties with the plot but I think it does this request justice 💕 ps: never condone cheating, it's horrible and this is purely fictional

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, alcohol, cheating, smut WC: 7.6k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Dinner with James was a quiet affair, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Why would your anniversary be any different when his indifference was the only constant at this point?

You watched as he smiled at his phone, something you hadn’t been able to elicit from him in months, before he locked the device and placed it facedown on the table. The sigh that wanted to exhale from your flared nostrils barely remained silent as you focused on shifting the food around your plate, your appetite gone like the connection to your husband. 

“Daniel sent us some passes to the race in Melbourne next month. I thought we could go, make a little holiday out of it?” 

There was no excitement in your tone, it was more a question borne out of politeness because he would have seen the paddock passes sitting on the kitchen side if he ever looked away from his phone. The blasted device vibrated again and his fork clattered on his plate in his rush to read the incoming message. 

“Well?” you asked as his thumbs flew across his screen. 

“Can’t. Work project is going to keep me busy until the deadline,” he answered without looking up. “Take one of your friends, have a girls trip.”

Friends…those people you never saw anymore because James hadn’t liked them, though he never outright said it, those friends who had warned you that you were marrying a narcissist. 

“It’s our anniversary,” you reminded him. “You know, falls on the same day each year.”

“Mhmm, yeah,” he nodded, clearly not listening. “Sounds good.”

You propped your elbow onto the glass tabletop and dropped your chin onto your palm as a familiar burn of resentment simmered in your soul. “The mailman gave me a pearl necklace.”

“That’s nice. Put it on my credit card.” He reached into his back pocket and tossed his wallet across the table, narrowly missing the glass of rosé. 

You opened it and saw the polaroid from your wedding day no longer sat in the clear card slot but was stuffed behind his drivers licence. You shouldn’t have felt hurt after months of being ignored but the pain still surprised you, almost as much as the condom that you found with his cash. He hadn’t bought a box of condoms in at least three years, not since the wedding when you started trying for a baby - something that was probably best that it didn't happen.

“He must eat a lot of pineapples because it tasted delicious,” you murmured as you took his cash and the platinum credit card too.

James nodded and pushed his empty plate away. “Yeah, tasted good, thanks. Need to finish this project.” He rose from the table with his phone and started to make his way down the hall to his office. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You had a trip to plan. 

You weren’t going to have a girls weekend but you were going to Melbourne. He may have been James’ friend first, but no one had the ability to turn a bad day (or year) around like Daniel could. 

When you arrived in Perth you hadn’t expected Danny to be the one personally waiting at the airport. It was impossible to miss him with the amount of people that surrounded him, asking for pictures and autographs before he spotted you stepping out of customs. 

You didn’t need to read lips to see him apologising to everyone as he made his way towards you, holding up a large welcome sign for ‘Roo’. You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you after one drunken night that ended with you tangled in a hammock, your head poking out of the material like a joey in a kangaroo pouch. You were only grateful he hadn’t nicknamed you Joey since the name had stuck over the years.

Your greeting turned to a peal of laughter as he dropped the sign and swept you into a hug that lifted your feet off the ground to spin you around. 

“I’ve missed you, you beaut!” Danny’s smile was contagious and even when your feet were securely back on the ground he still kept his arms around you. “A shame James can’t come, but we can totally make his jealous as fuck for ditching us. One week, you, me, road trip to Melbourne.”

Day One - Perth to Kalgoorlie “I hope you know where we are going.”

Daniel laughed and just winked from the driver's seat of his Ford Ranger. It had been three hours of driving on the highway and you had not passed one town in the dusty landscape. 

“It’s not far, just down the road a little more,” Danny said for the third time. “We still have half a tank of gas and a crate of Vitamin B, we’ll be fine if we need to camp.”

You quirked an eyebrow up as you looked in the backseat and saw the green box of Victoria Bitter beer strapped with a seatbelt.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to camp anywhere,” you scoffed, tucking your knee up as the song changed to another country song from his endless playlist. “Spiders, snakes, dingoes, and your snoring. I think not.”

Daniel laughed and indicated to pull off the road despite there not being another soul within what felt like hundreds of kilometres. 

“I’m sorry I said you snore, please don’t leave me here.”

His laugh only intensified as he turned the engine off and turned to face you. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roo.”

“Then why have you stopped?” You tested the window but it had powered off with the engine. “It’s a freaking sauna in here.”

“Because you haven’t been yourself all day and there’s no cell reception out here so there’s nothing to distract you.” He took the useless device from your hand and tossed it in the glove compartment. “What’s going on with you and James?”

“Nothing,” you muttered as his brown eyes narrowed. “Seriously, there’s nothing going on with him. We hardly speak anymore and he sleeps in his office when he’s not out of town on another ‘business trip’. It’s just…nothing.”

Daniel’s brows pinched together in confusion as he sucked a lungful of air through his teeth. “But…what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” you exclaimed as you threw your hands in the air, just as clueless. “What do you want me to say? That he’s having an affair, or that one day he just stopped caring, or both?”

You turned away as it wasn’t a bead of sweat that rolled down your cheek when you sighed in defeat. Unable to withstand the heat without the air conditioner, you tugged the door handle and checked the dirt for any unwanted animals before jumping down from the running boards. 

Daniel was already getting out his side and circling the bullbars before you could wipe the tears away but the sob you had tried to suppress clawed its way out when he pulled you against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly as he rubbed your back and let your tears soak into his shirt. “He can be a bit of a cunt, but I never thought he could do that to you.”

“He did and it’s done,” you admitted with a raspy voice that was still strained from the emotion choking each word. “I moved my stuff out last week, not that he even noticed. I thought I could have a break to get away from it all and deal with a divorce when I get back.”

“That fucking idiot,” Daniel said as he pulled his shirt up to wipe your tears away. “He just lost the best thing in the world and he doesn’t even know it.”

Day Two - Kalgoorlie to Caiguna It was another long day of driving but after the broken sleep spent tossing and turning you weren’t much of a companion. You had eventually drifted off to sleep to the country music that Daniel loved so much and dreamt of crawling through fields of watermelons but the paddock soon turned to mud and you sank under the suffocating weight with it filling your lungs. 

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Danny soothed as you startled awake, his quick reflexes throwing his arm out to catch you from hitting the window. You could still feel the filthy fluid on your skin and shivered as you changed the song over and took a shuddering breath. “Bad dream?”

You rolled your shoulders and twisted your stiff neck, groaning at the crick that had come from using the seatbelt as a pillow. “Just weird.”

His eyes darted away from the endless road ahead and saw you trying to massage your neck before he brushed your hand aside. There certainly were perks to his strength training because his fingers were a godsend as they erased the knots that had formed.

“Hmmm, thank you,” you sighed deeply and his lips tipped up at the sound.

“Anytime. Hope you got the rest you needed, there’s a stop ahead and these guys know how to throw down.”

You narrowed your eyes at the horizon that was blurred by heatwaves and tried to see what lay beyond but gave up after a few seconds. “Throw down what?”

“Huh?”

“What are they throwing down?”

“Throw down,” he said slowly as if it would somehow make you understand but you were still confused. “Party, drink, dance. Throw down.”

“Oh, throw down, why didn’t you just say that?”

He laughed at your sarcasm and squeezed your knee. “You could definitely do with a drink or two and loosen up. Then I can get my old Roo back.”

“As long as I’m not expected to sleep in a hammock again.”

The motel was a little rough and run down but it had four walls and the bathroom was clean enough to last one night. Daniel had barely given you enough time to get changed into fresh clothes before he was knocking on your door ready to escort you next door to the bar. Coincidentally, the bar was also the restaurant, service station and grocery store all rolled into one.

You and Danny were by far the youngest people in the place but it didn’t stop the warm welcome from everyone. If any of the patrons knew who he was they hid it well because they treated him just like any other stranger passing through.

“Where ya from?”

“Where ya headed?”

“Watch out for ol’ Deloris, she’ll try take a bite out of ya.”

The questions came in quick succession and you looked around the room trying to figure out which of the ladies was Deloris only to find the name on a plaque beneath a huge crocodile head suspended from the rafters.

“Fuck me,” you gasped as you took a step back, bumping into Danny as he laughed along with the bartender.

“Gets ‘em every time,” he chuckled as he placed two large bottles of beer onto the well worn bartop. “Looks like ya sheila could use something a little stronger.”

Daniel’s large hands landed on your shoulders and started to massage the tense muscles. “There’s no crocs ‘round here, isn’t enough water,” he whispered to calm your nerves. “Deloris was probably a pet.”

“Who in their right mind would keep that as a pet?”

“Probably someone not in their right mind.” His warm laugh tickled your ear before he turned you back to the bartender to grab your drink. “Cheers.”

Daniel found a small table in the surprisingly busy restaurant space and it appeared as if most of the locals were keeping the economy running in the place. It was strange to think that the faded walls decorated with old photographs of the glory days gone by felt more homely than the one you had built with James.

You could easily see yourself placing a coin on the pool table to save your place in the queue or ordering the fresh market fish off the menu without questioning how it was fresh so far from the sea. You could see yourself walking in to see the same faces at the end of a long week and the barman would listen to your complaints as he poured your usual without needing to be asked.

You took a generous gulp of beer that Daniel swore was ‘the good stuff’ and hummed at the hoppy flavour as it quenched the thirst that hadn’t stopped since you stepped foot in the country. It was no wonder why they liked their beers so much, they needed whatever they could to cool their bodies down.

“I like this place,” you said with a smile that Danny returned with pride.

“Thought you might, and tomorrow’ll be even better.”

“Where are we going tomorrow?”

Daniel shook his head and occupied his lips with the bottle so he could keep you in the dark a little longer. You didn’t mind this type of surprise, knowing he wanted to make you smile and was planning everything could to make that happen on the road trip.

The doldrum tune that was playing from the corner of the bar was interrupted as a coin was slotted into the jukebox and Josh Turner’s Your Man came on the machine. Couples around the bar and restaurant left their belongings and made their way to the dance floor. Where you came from no one would do that, and if they did their belongings wouldn’t be there when they returned.

Beneath the table you could feel Daniel’s foot tapping in time to the beat and his fingers drummed on the long neck he lifted to his lips. He caught the longing in your eyes as you watched a grey haired man holding his wife, slowly swaying together like you had imagined you would with James in 40 years.

“Come on, Roo,” he invited as he pushed his chair back and held out his hand. His palm was cold and damp from the beer bottle but it was refreshing on your skin with the heat that still lingered with the setting sun. Leading you to the edge of the dance floor he pulled you close and curled an arm around your waist as he started to sing along. “I've been thinking 'bout this all day long, never felt a feeling quite this strong, I can't believe how much it turns me on, just to be your man. I know you know the words, don’t be shy.”

It was impossible to feel embarrassed with him, even if you butchered the song he would still smile like he was listening to his favourite artist live. So, you placed your hand in his and the other rested on his shoulder as you started to sway and sing along.

“There's no hurry, don't you worry, we can take our time. Come a little closer, let's go over, what I had in mind.”

Daniel let go of you and your head fell back with a laugh as he spun you away and pulled you back. You could only giggle as you returned out of step and ended with your back to his chest instead of face to face but he adapted quickly and held your waist instead.

“Baby lock the door and turn the lights down low,” his voice was deep and rich in your ear, intimate and full of promise that hit you unexpectedly. “And put some music on that's soft and slow. Baby we ain't got no place to go, I hope you understand.”

You were glad you weren’t facing him as his words affected you in a way you couldn’t remember feeling for over a year. The very air seemed to thicken in your lungs as you felt every inch of his body fitting against yours. You could feel the veins on his hands as you laced your fingers with his and guided them down to your hips.

This was the first time the lines had blurred throughout the years of friendship and you allowed yourself to feel wanted, if only for a song.

Day Three - Caiguna to Yalata The pounding in your head turned out to be banging on your door and you somehow found the strength to answer it. Bright sunlight flooded in through the crack and you groaned as you covered your eyes.

“Good morning sunshine,” Daniel greeted brightly as he stepped inside. “It’s 7am on another stunning day here in Straya.” 

You playfully shoved Danny and he rolled with it to splay across your bed, the blankets still tucked in from collapsing atop them last night. 

“7am is too early,” you complained as you climbed into the small space he left on the twin sized bed, curling onto your side and throwing your arm over your face to block out the light. “Let me sleep.”

“You can sleep in the car.” His fingers danced teasingly over your ribs and you jutted your elbow back into his hard abs before he could properly tickle you. “Ouch, you’re not very nice in the morning.”

“This isn’t morning, this is still night,” you grumbled as his arm draped over your waist instead.

“The sun is up.”

“Tell that to the people of Norway. It can be sunny at midnight there.”

You could feel him silently laughing at you as it shook the bed. “But we aren’t in Norway.”

“Shh,” you murmured as you snuggled closer to him. “Let me go back to sleep.”

“Fine,” he conceded, making some adjustments to the pillow before shoving his arm under your head, “but just because I’m comfortable now.”

The hangover was gone by the time you woke naturally and you felt refreshed as you stretched lazily. Rolling over in Daniel’s arms you found his eyes closed and his lips parted slightly with soft snores. You raised your head a little to see the alarm clock that was probably considered vintage in the 80’s and saw it was well past check out time. Luckily it didn't appear that the No Vacancy sign was ever used, so there was no rush to leave.

The small movement was enough to wake him and your stomach clenched at the smile that brightened your day more than the blistering sun outside when his honey brown eyes opened. 

“I can’t believe this,” you tutted as you let him pull you closer against his chest. “I was ready to go at 7 and you just went back to sleep…so lazy.”

“How rude of me,” he chuckled. “I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Woah,” you whispered breathlessly as the truck bounced to a stop on the hard sand of the tidal line. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it just,” Daniel grinned as he opened his door and looked across at you. “Coming in?”

You bit your lip as your eyes feasted on the picturesque scene. Big barrel waves crashing out in the bay and white sand welcoming bare feet on the shore, it was a sight pretty enough to make angels cry. Hopping out, you rounded the four wheel drive ute and sat on the metal bar running across the front, distracted by the breathtaking view. “What about sharks?”

Daniel’s door shut and you turned to the sound in time to see him pulling his singlet over his head and tossing it through the backseat window before unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans off too. It was impossible not to stare at the hard planes of his chest or the definition of his abs, and then the thick thighs that were barely covered by his boxers. 

“The chances of a shark attack are less than…” His words trailed off as he looked up and caught you blatantly staring, his teeth sparkling as a big smile grew on his face. “The view is spectacular, am I right or am I right?”

“You or the beach?”

“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” he said as he started to flex his arms, “but if you think I’m spectacular then I would accept that.”

You closed your eyes from the harsh sunlight and tipped your head back to feel the rays on your cheeks as you laughed. “You’ve never had to worry about your ego, have you?”

He sent you a playful pout as he walked towards you, his thongs flicking up golden sand behind him with each step. “It would take a hit if you didn’t come swim with me.”

You hadn’t realised quite how many types of heat there was until that moment. There was the heat of the bonnet from hours of driving beneath you, the heat of the sun in the sky above and the heat of his hands that landed on your knees. It was the heat of his hands that seeped into your blood and spread throughout your body, increasing to boiling point as they slowly ran up your thighs.

Your knees unconsciously parted for him and he stepped into the space so you were eye to eye and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “There’s nets out past the reef, you’ll be safe with me.”

You took a sharp intake of air as his fingers caught the hem of your shirt and his knuckles grazed your skin. “Well?” he asked quietly. “Trust me?”

You swallowed deeply as you nodded and he rewarded you with another of those smiles you had come to love before he lifted your shirt up and left it on the hood of the truck so he could grab you around the waist and haul you over his shoulder.

“Daniel!” you yelped as the world was suddenly upside down and he kicked his thongs off before jogging towards the water. “Don’t you dare dunk me.”

You expected the next sudden shift when the water reached his knees but as quick as he tossed you up off his shoulder he caught you again with a booming laugh. His arms were bound around your thighs and your hands planted on his shoulders as you looked down at his amused face. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” he promised as he eased his grip, your body sliding down his until you were once more eye to eye. “I just want to make you smile.”

Day Four - Yalata to Port Lincoln  As much as you had found yourself enjoying the historical rich motels in the outback, you were just as happy to find the accommodation in Port Lincoln was a five star resort on the waterfront. The sun was just starting to set when you arrived at the hotel and checked into the two bedroom suite with a gorgeous view of the harbour. 

“I never knew driving could be so exhausting,” you said as you dropped into the swing chair on the large balcony. 

“Don’t worry, tomorrow’s a rest day so you can recover from all that driving you didn’t even do,” Daniel pointed out with a smirk, taking the spot beside you and taking over the leg exercise of swinging it back and forth. “We can do whatever you want, just can’t miss the boat to Adelaide tomorrow night.”

It was nice spending so much time alone with Daniel on the road, comfortable conversations rolling like the tires on the highway, but a change of pace would be welcomed. “What is there to do?”

“Hmm,” he frowned and stood up. “Let me go see.”

Daniel disappeared out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a stack of brochures that he had taken from the tourist stands in reception and you met him on the couch inside where the pleasant offshore wind couldn’t whip them away. Together you flicked through them, separating them into three piles of yes, no and maybe. 

“Sure you don’t wanna cage dive?” he teased as you threw that particular brochure across the room. “You could get up close and personal with a Great White. Once in a lifetime opportunity right there.”

You snorted and shook your head. “Once in a lifetime because it would kill me. Not happening.”

“Here, that’s a yes for you.” 

You took the advert for a farm park where you could hand feed the animals and added it to the yes pile. “Maybe next year we can go to your farm…unless James gets you in the divorce.” Your lips turned down at the idea and you realised you had hardly thought of your husband, but now that you had he had disturbed your peace even though he was thousands of miles away.

Daniel reached over the coffee table to the stationary set, grabbing a hotel engraved pen before pulling his shoe off. “It’s just like Toy Story,” he said as he waved the pen in your face. “Put your name on me first.”

You managed a small laugh as you took the pen and clicked the nib out. “Should tattoo it so it doesn’t wash off.”

Daniel squirmed on the couch as the pen tickled his foot and you grabbed his ankle so he couldn’t move too much but he started to giggle uncontrollably as the nib ran over his instep. “How long does it take to write Roo?”

You laughed and kept going before he wretched his foot free and crossed his leg over his knee to see your full first and last name on it - maiden name, not married.

“For legal purposes,” you said as you clicked the pen nib away and tossed it on the table.

“Fair enough.” He grinned at the writing everytime he looked at his crossed leg and draped his arm over the back of the cushion as you returned to the seat. “You can come by the farm anytime, don’t have to wait for next year.”

“Except for shearing season,” you smirked as you remembered that mistake where you were roped into helping the jackaroos round the sheep up and shave them. “I have no interest in losing all feeling in my arms again.”

“Earned that beer though,” he said with a chuckle as he started to massage your neck. “I was so proud, you weren’t afraid to get stuck in and help. I kinda thought you were a bit of a princess ‘til then.”

Your nose crinkled at the endearment James used to call you. “Well I’m glad I got rid of that image. But, out of curiosity, what do you think I am now?”

The smile could only be described as devilish as his hand spread across your nape and guided you closer to him. His eyes held you captivated and his lips parted with his answer but it was silenced by the sound of ringtone breaking the tension and like a puppet whose strings were cut he fell back into his seat. The emotion in his eyes was erased with a blink and you reached blindly for your phone, answering the call without needing to see who it was from.

“Hey, isn’t it like midnight?” you asked as you lifted the device to your ear but there was no answer at the other end. “Hello? James?”

“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby. God, Laura, you’re so perfect.” The phone slipped from your grasp as you heard the muted but unmistakable sound of James’ voice.

Daniel frowned as he picked the phone up from your lap and lifted it to his ear, shock registering before it transformed into anger and he hung up the phone without breaking the screen with the force of it. He discarded the phone and pulled you into his lap in the same instance but you didn’t hear what he said as you buried your face in his neck and grappled onto him for dear life.

Day Five - Port Lincoln to Adelaide You didn’t feel like doing anything other than staying in bed and sleeping the day away but Daniel wouldn’t let you waste another minute of your time because of James. In a way you could understand the logic and as a big ‘fuck you’ to him you were going to get your shit together and go and have fun.

Daniel worked even harder to get a smile or a laugh out of you and kept his camera on hand to capture the moments he succeeded. The animal farm did make you feel a little better and holding a joey as you bottle fed it was finally enough to break through the invasive cloud that had hung over you. 

“Roo and Roo Two,” Danny commented as he moved around taking a million shots of you.

“Need a hand?” a passing couple offered after watching Daniel try and extend his arm enough to get in the shot too.

“That’d be a dream,” Daniel nodded and he handed his camera over before sitting down beside you and curling his arm around your waist. The joey was almost asleep from drinking all of the milk and Daniel grinned at you as he stroked its neck. “Looks like you when you sleep.”

You grinned back, forgetting about the camera. “Cute, right?”

“Yup, that’s, uh, exactly what I was thinking.” He cleared his throat and scratched his neck awkwardly before laughing when your elbow connected with his ribs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re a cutie-tootie when you sleep…it’s another story when you’re awake.”

His laugh was loud enough to wake the joey when you nudged him again with an offended look. “What? You’re beautiful when you’re awake.”

“That’s totally what you meant,” you said sarcastically before rolling your eyes. “Just look at the camera and smile like a normal person.”

He tipped his head to yours and smiled brightly for the camera, but he couldn’t resist whispering, “Bold of you to assume I know how to be normal.”

Day Six - Adelaide to Portland It took a moment to recollect the events from the night before and it wasn’t because of the many wine tastings you had gone to around the Port Lincoln area. Perhaps that had a little bit to do with it, but mostly it was because you had fallen asleep in the truck to the gentle rocking motion of the ferry but now you were tucked into an unfamiliar bed. 

“Danny?” you called out as you tossed the covers back and found you were still in yesterday's clothes. You could hear some sounds outside of the room but Daniel hadn't answered your call so you picked up the coat rack from the corner and quickly opened the door.

“Jesus Christ.” Daniel jumped back as you waved the long pole his way. “What the fuck?”

You sagged in the doorway and dropped the makeshift weapon to clutch your chest. “You gave me a fright.”

“I gave you a fright?” he asked incredulously. “You gave me a fucking heart attack. What were you going to do with this?” He swiped the coat rack off the floor and couldn’t stop himself from laughing at it. “Please don’t give me a concussion before the race.”

“But any other time is good?” you quipped as your lips tipped up now that your heart rate was returning to normal. “How did I get to bed?”

He flexed his arms with a cocky grin. “I tried to wake you up but you were dead to the world. And now that sleeping beauty is awake, how about we go out for breakfast? There’s meant to be a huge market that sells a bit of everything that we could check out after.”

You held a finger up as you looked down at your clothes and heard your stomach rumble, answering the question of whether to shower or not first. “Just give me one minute to change.”

Daniel had obviously been awake for a while being an early bird so he was ready and waiting at the door when you reappeared, his hand held out and waiting for yours. The lines between friendship and more were getting blurrier each day but it no longer felt wrong as you laced your fingers with his and stepped outside.

“Are you limping?” you asked with a frown as he kept his weight on one side the entire walk to the market.

“No, just got pins and needles in my foot.”

An hour later he was still favouring his right foot so you steered him back towards the hotel so he didn’t make it worse before you got to Melbourne. “You should probably see a doctor.”

Daniel dropped onto the couch and stole the remote to choose a movie, patting the space beside him so he could kiss your temple after joining him. “You worry too much, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re quiet,” Daniel commented as he turned off the tv. “What’s got you thinking so loud?”

You chewed your bottom lip as he called you out. He was too observant, or you were too easy to read. “It’s our last night together.”

“You’re still going to stay with me for the weekend, right?” He shifted in his seat to face you and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand as he waited for an answer.

You nodded and he relaxed a little only to freeze as you spoke, “But you’ll be busy, we don’t have time to hang out.”

“I’ll always make time for you,” he promised as he pulled you into his lap. “This week with you has been…spectacular.”

“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” you reminded him, much to his amusement.

His smile softened as his fingers trailed along your jaw and down your neck to trace your collarbone. “Which is why it’s reserved for very, very good things.” 

You were almost certain he could hear your heart racing like thunderous hoof beats in a quiet desert. The blood was pumping around your body carrying the oxygen you needed to replace but couldn’t seem to draw the air into your lungs as he leaned forward.

“You were his best man,” you whispered with the last of your breath as you felt the heat of his lips so close to yours.

“But I’ve always been the best man for you.”

The first kiss was softer than the wind, tentative and testing as you learned how your body responded to the caress before hunger yearned for something deeper. A deep moan rumbled from Daniel’s chest as your tongue rolled across his lips that parted for you and his arms encircled you to hold you tight, as if he were clinging to the spell so it couldn’t be broken.

“Please, Danny,” you sighed longingly as his hands slipped under the summer dress you wore and his thumbs teased you with painfully slow circles on your thighs. “You have never been a patient man, don’t start now.”

His quiet laugh heated the skin of your neck that he kissed with such tenderness you wanted to cry. It had been so long since you had been touched in such a way that you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please,” you begged as you rolled your hips over his cock that was straining against his shorts. You moaned as the hard length brushed over your panties and a reciprocal sound came from Daniel before he stood up abruptly. 

“Fuck, I wanted to take my time with you,” he murmured against your lips as he blindly walked to the closest bedroom. 

“Later,” you promised. “Right now I need you to get me out of this goddamn dress and fuck me.”

Day Seven - Portland to Melbourne “Oh, fuck off,” you growled as your phone rang on the bedside drawers. You rolled back into Daniel’s embrace and wrapped your arms around his waist as he saw at the voicemail notification before it started to ring again. 

“He’s just going to keep calling,” Daniel said with a sigh that turned to a yawn after the late night spent getting to know each other's bodies intimately. “You’ll have to talk to him at some point.”

“I know, I just want to savour this moment before the drama starts. I can’t remember the last time I woke up like this, happy and content. I’m not ready for that to end.”

“What makes you think I’ll let this end?” he teased as he rolled you onto your back and trailed wet kisses down your neck. “I might just write my name on your foot too and call you mine.”

The warmth of the blankets disappeared as Daniel made his way down your body, kissing the entire length of you before settling between your legs as the phone rang again.

“Answer it,” Daniel ordered as his fingertips delicately traced the stretch marks across your hips, committing every inch of your body to his memory. “Or he won’t go away.”

You tried to find any hint of resentment in his face as you reached for the phone but there was only an air of smugness as he made himself comfortable, resting his head on your thigh.

“I think we have been robbed,” James said without even a hello as you answered the call on speakerphone. “Everything in the guest room is gone.”

A huff of amusement bubbled at the image of him standing in the empty room, his face crumpled in confusion as he scratched his head. “It’s at my apartment.”

“What apartment? What are you on about?”

“The apartment I rented before I moved out two weeks ago. The one I will be living in when I get back.” Daniel’s fingers traced the waistband of your panties and your breath hitched as they slipped beneath the lace.

“Bullshit,” he laughed but there was a hint of uncertainty in the sound. “Just come home and talk about this before you make any rash decisions. I know I have been busy with work lately-"

“More like busy with Laura.” The air that hissed between your teeth could have been mistaken for anger but it was entirely from the devilish look in Daniel’s eyes as he bit the soft skin along your inner thigh.

“Laura’s my assistant.”

The laugh turned to a gasp as Daniel pushed the lace aside and ran his tongue through your folds, his eyes rolling up to watch your reaction, the phone falling from your hand as you reached for his hair.  You tugged the strands as his tongue circled your clit and you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping as you arched your back at the growing pleasure.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby,” you begged shamelessly and he chuckled as he felt your walls flutter around the fingers he curled into your cunt. “God, Daniel, you’re so perfect.”

A round of expletives filled the air as James heard a real orgasm take over your body but they fell silent as he realised why the words seemed so familiar. You weren’t just accusing him of fucking Laura, you knew. And you were using his best friend to show him.

“Some friend you are, sack of shit,” James growled as you whimpered with the aftershocks of the orgasm.

“Some husband you were,” Daniel snickered as he tore your panties off and climbed up your body to kiss you, sharing the taste of your pleasure on his tongue before he picked up the phone. “You lost the best thing you had, mate. I won’t make the same mistake you did.”

Daniel ended the call stared down at you in wonder as a slow smile started to spread across his face. “I don’t think he will be calling back.”

It may have been the high of the orgasm, or it could have been the knowledge that after a year of enduring the decaying marriage, but you were free - either way, you were giddy with joy as you wrapped your legs around Daniel’s hips and pulled him closer. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” you giggled as you hooked your fingers into his boxers and pushed them over his hips. 

“He had to know who you belong to now, he had his chance.” His voice was pure decadence in your ear as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds before stretching you wide as he thrust forward and stilled. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size and brushed a gentle kiss across your lips before captivating you with his golden brown eyes. “Still want to know what I think you are?”

Your fingers ran softly down his back, feeling each bump on his spine right down to the twin dimples at the base. “Tell me,” you whispered as your hands grasped the firm muscles of his ass, your nails digging in to spur him into moving.

“Mine.”

Melbourne Grand Prix - Race Day The screams of Daniel’s home crowd were intoxicating and you couldn’t help cupping your hands around your mouth and joining in as he parked front and centre of the pitlane having won his home race. Climbing out of the car, stood atop the halo and threw his fists in the air before tearing his helmet off and holding it up too, tapping his finger on the large number 3.

You couldn’t help but notice how he still favoured his right foot after he jumped off the car and rushed towards his team, grappling them into strong hugs that probably crushed the air out of their lungs - not that they cared as they ran on adrenaline after the race.

“Wow, Daniel, what a race! You were absolutely flying!” the interviewer praised after he took his microphone and joined her in front of the Sky Sports camera. “Looking at some of those high speed corners, it looked like you were fighting to keep the race line.”

“I couldn’t brake hard if I tried,” he laughed and combed his sweaty hair back through his fingers. “Got a fresh tattoo and it’s still a little tender.”

“On your foot?” Naomi asked as she pointed to his Red Bull boot. 

“Yeah, glad it wasn’t on my throttle one or I don’t think I’d be up here,” he joked.

“I’m certain I am asking on behalf of everyone when I say, can we see it?” A cheer from the crowd confirmed her statement and your fingers gripped the metal barrier as goosebumps broke over your skin.

“No way,” you mumbled under your breath as you shook your head to get rid of the ridiculous thought you had.

“Sure, I’ll need this off for my shoey anyway,” he said as he pulled the boot off along with his sock. Turning around, he bent his knee so the sole of his foot could be seen and looked over his shoulder, grinning as he found you at the barrier with his team. 

“Aww, look at that, it’s adorable,” Naomi gushed as she saw the basic outline of a kangaroo on the sole of his foot. “What a way to pay homage to your nation!”

You bit your lip from smiling too hard when he started to laugh as she completely misunderstood what the picture meant. “Of course!” 

He excused himself quickly and hopped towards you, not wanting to get the days old tattoo dirty on the ground. 

“You’re actually insane,” you gasped as you slapped his chest playfully, still in disbelief that he had the word Roo tattooed on his foot beneath the picture. 

He leaned in closer so he could talk without fear of being overheard and you inhaled the purely masculine scent of him enveloping you as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “It was your idea, and if you didn’t sleep so much you would have been awake to come and get it done with me.”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as his hot hands came to rest on top of yours. “I must admit, I’m a little disappointed that it isn’t my full name.”

“Do you know how ticklish that was? I would have wet myself trying to get your whole name.”

You smirked at him, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with his growing smile. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Does anyone have a marker pen?” Daniel asked loudly and about half a dozen were thrust his way in an instant. 

“What are you doing?” you asked as you took a step back but the crowd was so tightly packed there was nowhere to go.

“Foot,” he said as he tapped the barrier, “up. It’s not a tattoo…yet.”

“You’re insane,” you laughed as you shook your head but instead he dropped to his knees and caught your ankle under the barrier.

“And you’re mine, I just need to…stop wriggling,” he complained as he pulled your shoe off and bit the cap off the marker before inking your sole. Twisting your foot about you saw his driver number covering the skin and bit your lip at the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he flipped the pen in his hand. “There, that’s better.”

“Is it?” you joked as you slipped your shoe back on. “I would have said spectacular.”

You were always surprised that his smile could somehow brighten, even when it seemed like it couldn’t possibly grow any more. But his smile grew as stepped closer and his hand reached for the back of your neck, pulling you to meet him as much as the barrier allowed.

“Spectacular?” he echoed before crushing his lips to yours until you were breathless and forgot where you were. “Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Daniel's Road Trip Playlist: Cruise - Florida Georgia Line Watermelon Crawl - Tracy Byrd Your Man - Josh Turner You Make It Easy - Jason Aldean Right Now the Best - Zach Bryan Over For You - Morgan Evans Live Like You Were Dying - Tim McGraw Die A Happy Man - Thomas Rhett Butterflies - Kacey Musgraves

Click here for additional part.

Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery

[cherie-doll]

hear me out.. cod men with a loser male reader boyfriend.. like reader never goes outside, doesn’t do but sit and play video games for hours has poor social skills and probably smells bad but they still love him regardless.. totally nto self projecting!! hehe!!! >_<

i think you called everyone out w/ this one xd

( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

☆ Price doesn't understand what the term 'losercore' means and only describes you as a quiet man when asked about you. He may not be able to relate to you in that way a whole lot, but what he looks forward to when he comes back home is finding you there waiting for him. He knows you almost never leave the house which is sort of a comfort for him when all he wants to do is to hold you, and he's always certain you're there.

★ Ghost loves that you hate going out. He doesn't care if you believe you truly are a loser because you've just bought another video game after getting bored of all your other ones. You're his loser and that's all that matters. Honestly, between you and him, I don't think there would be a single word spoken throughout the entire day. You've been sitting in front of your pc all day and he's been switching between napping and going on his phone. Talk about spending quality time with your partner.

☆ Soap is the opposite of everything you are. He isn't quiet, at all, there is nothing subtle nor discreet about him. Yet, there was something about you that he found charming. Under that messy, unbrushed hair that covered tired eyes and dark eyebags, he was into that. Maybe it was your slow, deliberate manner of talking whenever you were forced to talk to people that had him hypnotized. Despite you being so tired from staying up all night trying to speedrun a game, your sleepy voice sounds oddly attractive to him.

★ Gaz is the pretty boy you've had your eyes on for a while. But how does a loser get their crush to notice them? You had resigned to just observing him, your heart beating softly within your chest whenever he walked by. Even though you were considered opposites in some ways, it's sort of what pulled him to you; like a magnet. It started out with small things, him gently tugging on your shirt, your eyes travelling down to where his fingers were pulling. What you weren't aware of, is that he was silently watching your reactions, his lips curling up in a smile.

☆ Roach understands the not wanting to socialize much part. He himself isn't the best with his social skills but didn't think he'd meet someone more introverted than himself until he saw you. When he noticed you, he knew right away you were someone he wanted to get close to, he just didn't know how. And with both of you being hesitant to approach others first, it took a lot of circling hoping the other would take the first bold step. Eventually, he just sent you a friend request online and that's how y'all started talking. Now, you two can just be in the same room together, not having to talk but instead slipping into a comfortable silence and enjoying one another's company.

★ Alejandro will always tease you a lot whenever you do decide to come out of your room. You always look so out of place stepping into the bright living room where he's drawn the curtains aside, opened the windows to let fresh air in and you're standing there in your pajamas, wet hair from having just taken a shower, blinking trying to get your eyes adjusted to the sudden change in lighting. You just came out of your cave because you recognized the smell of something good cooking in the kitchen.

☆ Rudy is lowkey down bad for you. Even you are confused as to how he's into someone who can't speak coherently when you really do want to respond back to him. If it weren't for him, every surface of your room would be filled to the brim with old cups and dishes with leftover food. And you don't know how to react to his affection or acts of love, you've never had anyone pining over you. Still, you have your own little ways of showing you love him even if you can't say it. Like burying your face into his neck when you feel bored, like you're sick of just sitting around, none of your comics are interesting but you're not desperate enough to go outside so you've only got your boyfriend to comfort you.

★ Phillip would LOVE someone he can provide for and do things for. So, you two are perfect for one another. He doesn't ever have to worry about keeping track of your location when you go out because you don't leave the house. Don't ever think of getting a job because he much rather prefers to find you home on his days off. The only thing he "struggles" with is when you act like your little games are a lot more interesting than him. He'll be asking you questions about your day and your answer are unintentionally dry and short, not because you're annoyed at him, you just don't have much to tell him.

☆ Makarov likes keeping you around like a cat; you do your own thing but will let him set you on his lap, pet your head while you're absorbed in gaming or watching something. If you ever try to stand up to get away from him so you can go back to your cave, he'll drag your ass back asking where you're going. He may critique the alarming number of hours you have logged on each of your games, you could have spent that time with him. Yes, he sulks over that, although he'd never admit the real reason why your pc sometimes won't run a new game you just bought knowing you're about to pull another all-nighter playing it when you could be cuddling up in bed with him.

★ Keegan can't stand to see you stay inside all the time. Sure, he's also a quiet guy but unlike you he can socialize when he needs to, it's just rare for him to do so. Sometimes, he'll forcibly take you out, there's not many places you're fond of going but he considers it a win if you sit contently through the car ride. Your only excitement is when another package you ordered arrives and you'll be inside for a minimum of two days enjoying that new thing you bought.

☆ König will listen to you go on and on all day about your hyperfixations and interests. Since you barely go out, you don't talk to many people, and the one person who listens to you has the unfortunate fate of having to sit down and just nod along even if he doesn't understand anything at all. That person is König. He's not the fondest of video games, not that he hates them, he just never got the hang of them and would much rather watch you play. He'll let you talk his ear off as you excitedly tell him about anything really.

★ Horangi likes being mean to you. He knows how much you HATE having the big light on in your room, because you only ever turn on your LED lights and it also messes you up when playing video games. The menace will walk in and stand ominously by the light switch until you notice and he flips the switch and you have to cover your eyes before you go blind. Other than that he loves spending time with you, will order delivery and sit with you to play video games or watch some series or movie you're both addicted to. He himself was a loser at some point so he still has loser tendencies.

☆ Nikto doesn't care much about what you do to occupy yourself when he's not around, but on days he is home, he prefers to pull you away from your video games and spend your day with him. You don't mind spending time with your boyfriend, but he's clingy... will watch and question everything you do when your attention isn't directed at him. Why do you keep sitting at your desk? What could be so interesting on that computer? You don't work... then why do you spend so much time on a silly video game as if it paid you? He'll sit next to you, staring at the screen as you play, not knowing what exactly he's looking at. But if it's interesting to you, then it should be to him as well.

[shroomerr]

My Fashion HCs for Teenage/YA Stan Marsh

Disclaimer: These are just my design notes that I consider when designing/drawing Stan and my personal interpretation of how I think he would dress and present himself! You're free to disagree or even take inspo from this. I don't own clothes nor your opinion. 🫶 Please also feel free to let me know your personal fashion HCs through the comments or tags as well. I'd love to hear other people's interpretations of these characters and I'm always collecting new HCs!!

Starting off strong:

A loser

Alt/grunge/punk kind of style.

He likes to think he’s well dressed, and he wouldn’t be too wrong, but that’s if we’re assuming he has the energy to put in effort in his fit. If he’s depressed, it’s whatever’s the cleanest in his room. 

Typa guy to wear his undies inside out (thanks @mantequillamcwhoremick)

He’s got some DIY piercings.

One earlobe piercing, one eyebrow piercing, and one lip piercing. He got them in that order. Was a wuss for each one, and stopped getting more after the lip piercing.

Definitely cried the first time around, lol. Kenny helped him walk through the process.

Not like he knew any more than him though. Stan just assumed Kenny would be familiar with this type of stuff.

He was not.

They ended up looking up a tutorial on youtube and prayed for the best

He’s also got small DIY tattoos

Not exactly sure what kind? Something small and generic, like a star. Or a music note. Somewhere inconspicuous like on his wrist or his ankle.

He also got help from Kenny for that one. And once again, he’s just as clueless as Stan.

OVERSIZED EVERYTHING. Idk I'm projecting my NB-ism onto him but I like to think it gives him gender euphoria for when he doesn’t want to feel particularly masc. 

Will occasionally wear eyeliner (got this hc from the bitchless au author)

Only when they're feeling comfy though.

He wishes he was sooo punk and sooo alt, but he is a fast fashion king (thanks @alottodix). He does not customize, DIY or add studs to his clothes. He gets that shit straight from Hot Topic that was probably made by some child in China working in an industrial factory, being paid pennies.

Colors

Reds and blues. Colors like burgundy, carmine, and vermillion for the reds. For the blues, he’ll wear navys and denims the most.

The usual neutrals of course, like black, white, sometimes beige. But his go to is brown that he uses for accent colors.

I don’t think he’d really incorporate a lot of patterns. The most he’d go is big stripes. He prefers more graphic elements.

In terms of actual clothes:

Tops

Band. T-Shirts. This should be self explanatory.

Sometimes ripped. Alterations were either already included when he bought it or someone did it for him (either Henrietta or Kenny).

Green Day, My Chemical Romance, Deftones, Arctic Monkeys, Linkin Park, Radiohead, etc. etc. The list goes on. 

He’s tried bleaching some dark t-shirts to give it a cool design. It didn’t go too well. Now he just has t-shirts with bleach marks on them.

He’d probably wear his Tegridy shirt out of convenience occasionally, but he’d wear it inside out, or he’d find a way to cross out the Tegridy logo.

Hoodies. Oversized ones, too.

Sometimes some shorter sleeved hoodies that he layers on top of longer sleeve stuff.

Oversized dress shirts, but it’s not his go-to. Has one pair of long sleeves and one pair of short sleeves and that’s it.

Pants

Baggy jeans. 

Baggy cargo pants. 

The baggy pants are all frayed at the ends because keep getting caught under his shoe and dragging against the concrete, but also he has no normal belts. All he has are studded belts and sometimes that’s too edgy for the occasion. 

Oversized jorts that reach his knees. 

Cargo shorts. Esp those with the little belts/strings hanging down.

Normal jeans too. Ripped. Probably bought them ripped and didn’t rip them up himself.

Jackets/Coats

Flannel but he wears it well. Specifically a red flannel. 

Oversized jackets. Specifically this one brown leather/aviator kind of jacket he got from Jimbo that just swallows him whole. 

And normal leather jackets too, of course. 

Denim jackets with patches on it (Kenny sewed it for him)

Letterman/varsity jackets from his quarterback days (he doesn’t play anymore, but they still fit).

Bomber jackets

Barn coats

For winter, just a regular old winter jacket or a puffer jacket.

Shoes

Thickkkk boots, like Doc Martens. He thinks he’s soooo fashionable for wearing them (he’s not). The tall soles give him the extra height he wants.

Incredibly worn red sneakers with frayed shoelaces from years or not tying them properly.

Oh and high-top converse shoes too, lol.

Accessories

Some alt/punk-ish jewelry he got from the goth kids and the occasional outings they’d do at Hot Topic. Jewelry includes: 

Rings (specifically the kinds that are chunky and/or have some kind of cool engravings on them)

Earrings + piercings. Some have crosses on them

Wallet chains.

Studded leather bracelets.

All silver.

Arm sweatbands. He started wearing them while working at Tegridy but ended up thinking he looked good with it, so he sometimes uses it to accessorize.

There’s a point where he’s embarrassed about his goth phase and doesn’t wear it as often, but when the trend resurfaces and becomes “cool” again he starts testing the waters again and wearing his stuff more.

Wears Jimbo’s dog tag, esp to piss off Randy. Almost as a “fuck you, Jimbo’s a better dad than you’ll ever be.” 

Studded belts. The only belts he has. If he needs some normal ones, he’ll raid Randy’s closet.

Leather bangles, specifically a thick one. He likes to use that whenever he’s cosplaying or LARPing.

Leather rope bracelets that he wraps around his wrist (like the kind you have to wrap around your arm yourself, not the kind that's already weaved)

And also this piece of loose leather string that he just wraps around his wrist as a makeshift bracelet (that he also uses for cosplaying and LARPing).

Occasionally he has to wear an arm brace for wrist/hand pain because of his carpal tunnel (from playing League too much) 

Oh and residual pain from when he got shot ig

One time he wore some ripped up arm warmers and got called gay for it. Never wore them again.

Wool mittens when he’s younger, wool gloves when he’s older.

Fingerless gloves when he wants to be edgy

Band button pins and whatever thing he wants to virtue signal

Oh and glasses. Lol.

Hats

All of the hats are to hide his greasy hair

Such as:

Beanies

His stupid puffball hat/toque (im canadian we call them toques here)

Caps

Other miscellaneous stuff:

Bro is NOT well groomed:

It’s hard to shower when you’re depressed and working on a weed farm.

Speaking of weed, he has the faintest scent of it lingering on him, even if he doesn’t smoke it.

He doesn’t smell horrible, but he certainly doesn’t smell like daisies and roses either.

Definitely leaning more towards bad.

He’s at the very least self-aware when he does smell bad and feels bad for it.

Tries to put on deodorant. If he can remember it.

Definitely wrinkly clothes. All of his clothes are on a pile and he just picks one from it.

Hair

His iconic overgrown, badly bleached hair, of course.

Or just his regular black hair.

Either regular length or getting near shoulder length.

He’d rock a mullet well.

Leaves it hanging or ties it with a hair tie. 

He tries not to let it get too long because he gets sick of Cartman calling him a hippie.

His outfit combos:

I didn’t include this section in Kyle’s HC, but that’s because he’s the exception. That ginger has no outfit combos to be had.

Anyways! Stan’s pretty good at layering, so these are some of the ways he’d layer his clothes:

Oversized t-shirt on top of anything: long sleeve dress shirt, short sleeve dress shirt, turtleneck, etc. 

Jacket over hoodie.

Jacket on jacket on whatever’s underneath (t-shirt or whatever)

He wears his flannels buttoned up (not all the way, of course), open, wrapped around his waist, and wrapped around his neck. It's more of an accessory than anything.

Diagnosis: Kinda queer. But passable 👍

[pretzel-box]

PROLOGUE: WELCOME TO URBANSHADE

Word count: 3,3k

Tags: GN!reader, Graphic mention of surgery and experiments on a human body

Summary: You get hired by Urbanshade, thanks to your father, but every start has its obstacles. And some obstacles might feel deeper than they should be.

The time on the wall clock showed it was just a few minutes past noon. Warm sunlight gently crept into the waiting room through the tall panoramic windows of the building. A quick glance to the side, catching a glimpse of the clock, was enough to tell you that it would still be a few moments before it was time to move from the comfort of the leather chair you were currently sitting on. Your freshly disinfected hands clung nervously to your phone as you swiftly scrolled through the list of contacts you had saved over time. You were so focused that it startled you slightly when another caller ID popped up on the bright screen, displaying the picture of your father's face.

This particular man had called you a lot lately, sticking his nose into your business after you dared to ask him for a tiny favor, hoping he would help since you are his beloved only child. But one thing you didn't expect from him at that specific moment was that he would take the opportunity to call you, considering that he was somewhere on the ocean.

He works as a high-class businessman, primarily sponsoring a company called Urbanshade. You didn't know much about them, but your dad mentioned something about how they specialize in underwater mining with some high-tech inventions. This explained his temporary stay on one of Urbanshade's ships, where they were testing and showcasing another new underwater mining robot of some sort, called Trenchbleeder. Your dad had funded the whole project over the past few months, so he was more than excited to see how his money was being put to good use.

"Did they call you yet?" Despite the slight static, the seagulls, and the waves in the background, you could make out the strict tone in his voice. Of course, he was curious. You had asked your dad if he knew someone who would hire you, his child. And naturally, the first thing he applied you for was a position at one of Urbanshade's research facilities. They weren't really looking for new employees in the first place, but your dad was very close to the higher-ups, so he bought the job for you. The fact that he paid the company to hire you made your stomach twist in discomfort, but it was too late to turn back and say no. "I risked a lot by doing that for you."

He referred to the payment he had made on your behalf, and you could feel the pressure he had placed on your shoulders.

You nodded, even though your dad couldn't see it over the phone. "I'm at their building, sitting in the waiting room. We're signing the contract today." You tried to sound confident, but you knew your dad could see right through your facade. "They should be calling me into the office soon."

Your name was called loudly through the room before your dad could reply, and he would probably have given you another warning not to mess it up for his reputation's sake. "Sorry, Dad, it's time."

You ended the call with a swift push of the red button, putting your phone on mute so nothing would distract you during the meeting with one of the higher-ups at Urbanshade. The lady at the reception told you where to go, and another employee guided you to a glass room, where a middle-aged man in an expensive-looking suit was seated. His arms were crossed, and the way he scanned your application papers made your stomach turn.

The man must have noticed your little stare from the other side of the glass wall because he looked up from the file, and it wasn't hard to miss the coy smile on his lips. The previous expression on his face was quickly replaced with a more welcoming one. "Ah, we finally meet. Your father has already told me a good deal about you."

"I am grateful for the opportunity to work for your company, Mr. Wiltshire." First impressions count, especially at a company like Urbanshade. So you took the opportunity to present yourself in the best possible light, even if it meant pretending to be something you're not—in this case, motivated and interested. Your hand almost raised itself to offer a polite and respectful handshake.

"I assure you, we are the ones who are honored to welcome you to our team. Welcome to Urbanshade."

A few months passed after Urbanshade recruited you, and it didn't take long for you to get the hang of all the small details involved in your job at the luxurious office—details like how the overpriced coffee machine worked, how to sort the endless stacks of paper files, and even how to avoid getting on your new boss's bad side. At this point, you'd even admit it feels like being a well-paid version of an intern since your higher-ups only trusted you with minor tasks so far.

Despite the simplicity and comfort of the tasks, you volunteered more than once for harder assignments, showing your most motivated side in the hope of getting a little more action in your otherwise boring life. But every single time, Mr. Wiltshire blocked you off with a polite smile and a shake of his head. "You're not ready yet."

It was frustrating; you felt there was more behind it than just a lack of skills, but you couldn't force your way into the deeper levels of the job without risking ruining it all for yourself.

A high-pitched female voice suddenly pulled you out of your regular daydreams, making you aware that you were indeed not alone at the moment. "Ah, look who's here!" Your black-haired co-worker beamed at you with the fakest smile you had ever seen, making you raise your eyebrow slightly. The action didn't go unnoticed by her, and you could feel her sharp acrylic nails digging uncomfortably into your left shoulder. "Be a sweetheart," she started again, leaning in from behind and speaking directly into your ear, "and take care of my files too, alright?" She no longer tried to hide her snarky tone and instead showed you her true nasty attitude. "We don't want Mr. Wiltshire to see how much you slack off at work, right, hon?" The pain slowly disappeared as she lifted her hand from your shoulder, wiping it off on her expensive business blazer. A glance over your shoulder to meet her gaze was enough.

Her smug smile hit a nerve deep inside you, but you swallowed your newfound anger like the smarter person and just nodded without a word. In the end, it wasn't worth the drama, and maybe you could use the opportunity to score some extra credit points with your boss if he saw you doing some well-executed extra work.

The fake woman left the moment you tried to open your mouth to give her a straightforward answer, leaving you behind like some worthless object in the middle of the office. By this point, it wasn't really offensive to you since you strongly disliked that woman for her weird attitude toward you, and every second without her was surely a good second. After watching her leave and get into the elevator at the end of the hall, you turned around too and slowly made your way to the coffee machine in the plain break room, pouring yourself a nice cup of dark liquid into your favorite mug. You would surely need it if you had to put in some extra hours to get the work done. With newfound motivation, you left the room and headed to your co-worker's personal office.

It was a neat space inside a glass room, furnished with minimalist-style furniture and a nice office chair made of quality leather. Some of the woman's personal items were scattered across the mahogany table, and your lips curled up as you felt the smooth surface of the table, thinking you could earn one of those fancy offices yourself if you worked hard enough.

Then you saw the stack of brown files on the table. It was in an unacceptable, messy state, with paper corners sticking out from all sides and some mysterious stains on the front covers. Yet, the weirdly pleasant smell of cigarettes and old paper hit your nose, filling you with a strange, comforting feeling all over again. Your eyes also didn't fail to notice the bright yellow note on the stack, with a hastily written message in black ink:

"Please sort by Thursday night. Return Z-13 file to higher-up when done."

Reading it gave you a sudden boost of excitement, seeing that there must be an interesting file usually in the hands of higher-ranked people. You didn't question it but rather saw it as an opportunity to dive deeper into the business that Urbanshade conducts, sensing a way to escape the boring intern tasks and join them on the front lines, maybe even leading a mining operation in the exciting underwater world.

Your hands took the small note from the files, discarding it without a care into the bin, assuming your co-worker was aware of it since she knew about the work the files required. It was another simple job of sorting papers and making sure everything was in its place before returning them to the basement archives below the building.

The warm, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee replaced the smell in the small office as you took a careful sip from your favorite mug. The dark liquid was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the tension of the day. Your fingers traced the rim of the warm cup absentmindedly as you scanned the chaotic stack of files on the mahogany desk.

Determined to make a good impression by sorting through the files with precision, you placed your mug at the edge of the desk, within easy reach. You started to carefully separate the documents, making piles according to their categories, when your mind began to wander.

You reached for another file, but just as you were about to grab it, your elbow knocked against your mug. Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror as the mug tipped over, spilling hot coffee across the desk. The dark liquid cascaded like a wave, soaking the neatly sorted papers in seconds.

"No, no, no!" you gasped, frantically grabbing at the files, trying to salvage what you could. But it was too late—the coffee had already seeped into most of the pages, leaving large brown stains that spread and blurred the ink in matter of seconds. The once crisp documents were now soggy and wrinkled, some of the text smearing into an illegible mess.

Your heart pounded as you stared at the ruined files. A wave of panic surged through you. These weren’t just any papers; they were official documents, meant to be returned to the higher-ups. And that one file—about something called Z-13—it was supposed to go directly to someone important. You remembered the note and its simple instructions, now crumpled in the waste bin, and felt a sinking dread.

Grabbing a handful of napkins from the small break room drawer, you desperately tried to blot the coffee from the papers, but the evidence of your mistake would be painfully clear, no matter how hard you tried to save the files. The edges of some files were curling up, the ink bleeding out, and some of the pages were beyond saving. The more you wiped, the worse it seemed to get.

You slumped into the leather chair, your hands trembling as you stared at the coffee-stained disaster in front of you. What would Mr. Wiltshire say? Worse, what would your father think if he found out? The pressure to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of handling the job, suddenly felt crushing.

With a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. There had to be a way to fix this. Maybe you could reprint the damaged documents, or perhaps there were backups somewhere in the archives. You needed a plan, and fast. But first, you had to get rid of the evidence of your mistake—before anyone saw the mess you had made.

Forcing yourself to think clearly, you carefully gathered the soaked files, praying that you could come up with a solution before anyone found out about the spill. And then you saw it, the important file with big red letters on the cover, slightly drenched in warm coffee. The damage seemed to be at a visible minimum, making you slightly relax despite all the panic in your body.

Your finger traced over the paper cover before picking the file up from the messy table. It was slightly heavy, and as you felt the weight of the file in your hands, a ripple of curiosity surged through you. You hesitated for a moment, wondering what kind of secrets might be concealed within these pages. But the urge to know won out, and you carefully opened the front cover, revealing a neatly typed summary that seemed to offer a glimpse into the contents of the file.

The first thing that caught your eye was a series of police reports, meticulously detailed and organized, each one stamped with the official seal of Urbanshade. They were followed by a set of photographs, their glossy surfaces reflecting the dim light of the room. The first image you saw was a clear mugshot of a young man. His face was striking, not in the sense of beauty, but in the way it conveyed a deep weariness, as if the weight of the world had been pressing down on him for far too long. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and they censored his eyes, leaving them to your imagination.

His expression was a frown in each of the photos, a look of quiet defiance mixed with something else—something that sent a strange sensation through your chest. It wasn’t pity, exactly, but a deep unease that you couldn’t quite place. There was a coldness in his expression, yet also a flicker of something more, something human and raw, buried beneath the layers of exhaustion and anger.

You turned the page, your fingers brushing over the edges of the police reports that followed. The papers were old, some of them yellowing with age, but the text was still clear. Your eyes skimmed the lines, taking in the grim details of a murder case that had been closed years ago. The words felt heavy, each sentence a stark reminder of the horror that had unfolded.

The reports detailed a series of brutal killings—nine victims in total. The descriptions were uncensored, each one more gruesome than the last. As you read, a chill ran down your spine. The level of violence, the cold, methodical nature of the crimes, it all painted a picture of someone deeply disturbed, someone with a darkness that ran far deeper than you could have imagined.

And there, at the center of it all, was the young man from the photos. His name was typed in bold letters at the top of the report: Sebastian Solace. The name seemed almost ironic—“Solace” suggesting peace or comfort, while the man it belonged to was associated with such unspeakable acts.

You stared at the name for a long moment, trying to reconcile the tired, defiant face in the photos with the monstrous deeds described in the reports. The file mentioned psychological evaluations, interviews, and even some speculation about his motives, but none of it seemed to add up. There was a note in the margin, scrawled in a hurried hand, suggesting that the case was far from closed, despite what the official records stated.

A photo paperclipped to the back of the file caught your attention—a grainy image of a dark, empty room. The caption underneath simply read, „Day of Execution“ The picture showed the electric chair that they used in Solace his execution, but any sign of his presence was missing in it.

Then you turned the pages and the police reports changed into a large series of lab reports, endless lists of medication and a collection of pictures that left you in a nauseous state.

You read and read for what felt like hours, your eyes moving mechanically over the pages as the horrors of Sebastian Solace's life unfolded before you. Each detail seemed more grotesque than the last, painting a picture of a man who had been systematically stripped of his humanity. It wasn’t just the surgeries—those brutal, invasive operations where limbs were removed and reattached like parts of a machine. It was the utter disregard for the person he once was, the complete and total annihilation of his identity, his very soul.

The deeper you delved into the file, the more your hands began to tremble. You could feel your stomach churning as you flipped through page after page of graphic images and cold, clinical reports. The pictures were the worst—high-resolution photographs of Sebastian’s disfigured body, his skin pale and sickly under the harsh fluorescent lights of a laboratory. There were stitches crisscrossing his limbs, metal tools embedded in his flesh like cruel mockeries of life-saving instruments. His eyes—those once defiant, tired eyes—were vacant now, lifeless, as though the man he had once been was already dead.

Your breath hitched as you turned to a page detailing an experiment labeled "Procedure 17-C." The accompanying photograph showed a close-up of Sebastian's chest, where wires and tubes had been inserted into his heart, his blood replaced with a thick, unnatural fluid. The caption beneath it coldly described the experiment’s purpose—to test the viability of synthetic blood in deep-sea environments. The thought of what he had endured, of how much pain and suffering had been inflicted upon him in the name of science, made your vision blur with tears.

You forced yourself to continue reading, even as nausea clawed at your throat. The reports became increasingly more deranged, describing how Sebastian’s body had been treated like a puzzle, dismantled and reassembled in ways that defied all logic and ethics. The word "specimen" appeared frequently, a stark reminder that to his captors, Sebastian was nothing more than a test subject, an object to be used and discarded.

It was around page 35 that you couldn’t take it anymore. You shoved the file aside and staggered to the bin next to you, emptying the contents of your stomach. The bile burned your throat, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to steady your breathing, but the images lingered in your mind, imprinted there like a brand.

Sebastian Solace—the name now felt like a curse, a grim reminder of the horrors that could befall anyone who crossed paths with Urbanshade. And the Hadal Blackside... it was no longer just a place. It was a living nightmare, a twisted abyss where humanity was stripped away,

The weight of the file in your hands felt unbearable as you reluctantly picked it up again, your fingers trembling as you closed the cover. The secrets contained within were like a lead weight on your soul, pressing down on you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. When you finally set the file back on the table, it was as though you were laying down a burden too great for any one person to bear.

But even as you tried to distance yourself from what you had just read, the haunted eyes of Sebastian Solace refused to leave you. They stayed with you, those hollow, lifeless eyes, staring back at you from the depths of your memory. They were a reminder that in the Hadal Blackside, there were things far more terrifying than the dark waters and the lurking creatures within. There might were men—once human, now monsters—who had been twisted by the same forces that now ensnared you.

You were tangled in their web now, caught in a nightmare from which there was no waking. And as you sat there, in the dim light of that office room, you realized that the true horror wasn’t what had been done to Sebastian. It was the knowledge that, in time, the same fate could await you, if someone found out what you saw.

[probablysimpledreams]

hello!!! congrats on 200!! could I get shigaraki + "said you're not in my time zone but you wanna be" + maybe online friends au? (You can really do whatever kind of au you want, i don't mind!) Thank you for doing these, congrats again!! 🖤🖤

Hiii lovely<3333 thank you so so much Kisa!!!!! AA I LOVE ONLINE FRIENDS AU WITH SHIGGY it's so good for him hehe I had fun with this I hope you enjoyyyy (throwing lots of love your way) <333

cw: fluff <3 you two are in love but this is like predating situation (and had to add Shiggy being in a band bc LOV band is so real to me)

wc: 1254

You groan as another email popped into your inbox, announcing its presence with a sharp ding that has been haunting you all week. Usually you had no issues with your job as it paid well and the work was relatively easily. However, this past week had you rethinking all those positive thoughts after being thrown onto a last minute project with a team that does not work well together. You've been having to come in much earlier than usual all week too, and now that it was Friday that exhaustion was catching up to you. Before clicking on the new emails demanding your attention, your eyes travel down to the corner of your laptop to find the time. 12:06 pm. Great.

You rub your eyes then take a deep breath as you work through the next tasks that needed to be completed this week. If you could just power through these last few hours then you could get home and spend the rest of the evening with Tomura, as Fridays were designated as movie nights for you two. You and Tomura had met in a random Discord server almost a year ago, bonding over a similar taste in video games and music. You two connected instantly, spending many of the early days of getting to know each other pulling all nighters to keep talking. However between the responsibilities in both your lives growing and Tomura being in a timezone hours ahead of your own, these all nighters got harder to do. That's why Friday movie nights were so special to you both, as it was a guaranteed day you both could be online all night and just sleep in the following day.

Buzz buzz. The vibration from your phone grabbed your attention away from the laptop you've been staring at for hours on end as you pulled it from your pocket to read the message.

tomura: What's the name of that restaurant you're obsessed with again? With the ramen you like so much

you: Ramen House lol why?

[tomura liked your message]

You shake your head giggling before putting your phone away. Who knows what he's up to, you can just ask him later. A couple more minutes pass before your phone goes off again.

tomura: Why the fuck is food so expensive in your city?😐

you: Don't even get me started😩 why do you think I only get that place on special occasions LMAOOO

[tomura laughed at your message]

After what felt like ages, the workday finally wrapped up and you could head home. A wave of energy washed over you as you skipped to your car, shooting Tomura a quick message before speeding off home.

you: IM FREE🙌 idk how I did it😩

tomura: Yay :) Rough day again?

you: Yeah :/ just happy it's over and finally our movie night <333

tomura: Same :) btw there should be something at your door when you get back

you: huh ????

[tomura laughed at your message]

As you make the drive back to your apartment, you can't stop thinking about that message. He had sent you mail before, but only twice for different holidays. Also, if he had bought you something he probably would have told you much earlier in the week so you could be expecting it. What could possibly be waiting for you today all of a sudden? And that's when you see the bag of food and drink sitting right outside your day, a DoorDash receipt stapled to the bag listing your favorite meal in a size large enough where you will definitely have leftover to enjoy tomorrow.

you: TOMURA YOU DID NOT

you: crazyyyy way to ask for my hand in marriage but my answer is yesss <3333 making out with you through the screen (with tongue)

tomura: Nevermind, telling the driver to come back and get it now that you made it weird🙄

you: oh pls you love me just as much

[tomura liked your message]

tomura: Get inside so we can start the movie idiot

Tomura was happy you weren't on the call just yet as his cheeks were still flushed from your cute message. You grab your dinner, smiling and humming happily as you enter into your apartment. After kicking off your shoes and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you practically jump onto your bed to pull up the video call with Tomura.

"Thank you again for my dinner Tomu," you smile as the call connects. He offers you a small smile in return, avoiding direct eye contact as he works to pull up the movie he has picked out for tonight.

"It's really no big deal, I know how hard the week has been for you. And knowing your lazy ass, you probably wouldn't have even cooked dinner if I didn't order you it," he joked. You stuck your tongue out at him before taking another bite of the noodles, humming happily as the flavor and warmth enters your body. You're too focused on the food to notice the way Tomura watches you with a gentle expression. God you were too cute.

Before starting the movie, you ask him about his week. He shares with you how work has been treating him lately, and how band practices have been laster longer with an upcoming gig in their future. He shares some funny stories of his bandmates, making you giggle as you love hearing about his friends. You then share your latest work endeavors, how you finally finished that project up today and how earlier this week you and your friends went to the drive in movies since the weather has been warming up. All your worries and stresses just melted away whenever talking to Tomura. And he took note of it too, his heart beat quickening as your eyes lit up whenever you talked to him. You made him feel special in a way he'd never imagine someone could.

After a couple hours of conversations, though it felt more like twenty minutes, you and Tomura started up the movie. The movie was one that had been on both your watch lists for a while now, and Tomura felt it fit the vibe well as it featured the type of actions he enjoyed and many actors you adored. It's about half way through when Tomura looks away from the movie and over to you, excited to see your reactions to the latest plot development occurring. His eyes widen before letting out a chuckle at the sight of you fast asleep, mouth open and drooling slightly with your favorite stuffed animal in your arms. You must have been truly exhausted to have fallen asleep so quickly tonight, but Tomura didn't mind. You both had tomorrow off so could always rewatch the movie then, or even just play some video games. As long as he gets to spend time with you the details don't matter much.

As the movie wraps up, Tomura moves to stretch his arms and upper body. He then turns towards the window, watching as early morning sunlight begins filling the room slowly. He looks back over to you on the screen, smiling as you're still deep asleep and probably will be for the next few hours. He whispers "I love you" as he watches you before ending the call. Before he climbs into bed for a quick nap, he pulls out his phone and sends you a message.

tomura: Hope you sleep well, don't drool on your laptop loser💀 Call me when you're awake