#am i being overly silly to handle it? a bit

[izzy-b-hands]

Memorial icon change to Tits Out Izzy. Would he appreciate it? Potentially, but he'd also still probably call me a twat for it (and I would be honoured 🖤❤️)

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

if you're still doing requests- nsfw alphabet with switzerland 👉👈

i am my motivation just doesn't agree if that makes sense and most of my requests i'm either far too ambitious with and keep re-writing or are just not something i'm interested in rn. thank u for handing me an excuse to write about the guy. was an easy and fun write. might have minor errors. very sorry this took a bit ! (also- should i redo the yandere alphabet with him? i feel its REALLY ooc now that i re-read it..)

Switzerland NSFW Alphabet

warnings : nsfw ofc, nothing intense otherwise though. made him dominant here, request again if you want him submissive.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Not the most extra individual, but it's definitely not non-existent or anything. he will be ensuring you're not in pain, not thirsty, not uncomfortable.. He'll probably want to clean up and whatnot though once confirmed that you're all good.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his own eyes, they're always useful and a lot of his activities frequently require good eyesight, which he has. Definitely enjoys his hands too though, he's pretty used to work that requires physical labor so they're helpful too.

He's never said it, but it's easy to tell your thighs and hips are a favorite of his regarding activities such as these. His hands frequently drift there, and so does his line of sight when he thinks you're not looking.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He prefers it inside, just more convenient in his opinion. He'll understand if you want it outside though, then it'll usually just end up somewhere else on your body, no particular areas of interest really.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Although he feels really creepy for doing it, if you gave him literally any shirts, pants, or anything along those lines as a gift, he likely smelt it while jerking off. It just really gets him going, and he hates it (loves it, just won't admit it to himself).

Also, side note, has thought about fucking in the forest. He usually doesn't like risks, but he feels really in his element when out in the woods and his mind can't help but drift to such thoughts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Unexperienced, but not really dumb to what he should do and the alike. Might secretly read a bit to learn what all he should look out for, or do. Keeps looking away every ten seconds though throughout his research because he's sort of a prude.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Usually goes for Missionary. He's a very simple man, and doesn't like to get too weird when it's up to positions, so it just fits him. Would also be willing to do some other ones though, as long as they aren't too squished or require too much flexibility. It's not like he can't handle either of those, it's just very distracting to him and this is definitely something he likes to focus on.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not a silly guy in general, even less lighthearted when having sex. Finds it awkward if you make any jokes, but wouldn't mind if you laughed at any accidents or anything like one of you slipping.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Doesn't see the point to shaving that which very few people will ever see, but he also doesn't like being overly hairy. He keeps it trimmed to a shorter length, just seems like a waste of time to do anything more. It's the same colour as his hair too, not even like the slightest difference.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not overly romantic, but it's the small things he does that shows his affection. Always keeps an eye out to make sure you're comfortable, has a tendency to adjust you without asking just to be sure you're in a nice spot. Still embarrased to kiss you, by the way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only when he finds it neccessary. Switzy is a rather prudent man, and sexual activity doesn't really land on his mind that often. Sometimes though, he does have those straying thoughts. Ones he has to handle himself. Ones he internally punishes himself for, but exist nevertheless.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sorta likes the idea of outdoor sex. Just scared of getting caught, is all. He's very much a fan of nature, and he's spent lots of time in it. He largely prefers it there over cities any day of the week. So maybe on some of his property, further out, after he's scoped the whole area and put a million "no trespassing" signs up. (And likely brought a gun.. Just incaese.)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom, usually. Bathroom, occasionally. Elsewhere, in your dreams. Too horrified at the idea of his sister coming to visit him just to get scarred for life. Hates to do anything outside his/your own home, ignoring the above section of course (when he gets brave enough to test that out).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As I might've mentioned earlier, he loves your thighs and hips. Size doesn't matter, scarring doesn't matter.. HE JUST LOVES THEM! If visible, they instantly catch his attention, and sort of distract him. Only a teensy bit though, he's not gawking at you or anything.. Also likes it if you give him lots of big kisses while you rub him up. Anywhere on his body too, really, it's his favorite thing. (Even more- he loves if you squeeze his butt. He might huff a bit if you do, but trust, he secretely adores it.)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that risky. In any way you can think of. Literally all forms of risks are a major no for him. Physically risky, reputation risky.. All of them.

Also, anything gross. Won't go along with watersports, emetophilia.. Anything along those lines are a no-no for him. Would completely wreck his mood.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Sort of nervous on recieving oral? Not really for himself too, he just doesn't want you to feel physical discomfort or choke or anything.. It's not really his thing. Totally up for giving, though. You might not expect it, but he's actually rather big on giving. Would honestly be satisfied if that's all you two do for the night.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He tends to gear towards a happy medium pace most of the time (exceptions can be made..). Sensual isn't really a word to describe it, nor is it rough. Not harsh, but not fluid. He feels if he goes rough he'll hurt you, and that's really not something he wants. But if he goes slow it just makes him feel shy, if that makes sense. It gives you the opportunity to really focus in on him, and he isn't exactly talkative in sex either outside simple questions and the alike, so it makes him feel awkard. A speed that's gentle but not too calm.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's not a fan, and he'll rarely ever agree to go along with them. If he does though, then those are the times that the exceptions mentioned above happen. Though, admittedly, even though he isn't neccessarily a fan, he doesn't hate them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Okay, unlike above, he's actually a real hater of risks. And there's really no elaborating on it either, as it's pretty much already been covered. Will not agree to risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While usually he tends to try and keep it at one to three rounds, he can do more. He's a physically abled man, and has quite a bit of stamina due to all the training he does and the alike. If he really wanted to he could go for.. Five? Probably could do seven, but he's just not that much of a sex fanatic, so that won't really happen.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would never buy any. Why get such a thing if he's already equipped with parts for this activity? Might be willing to try some simpler things though, if you get it. Don't expect him to go for any BDSM stuff though, that's just really not his thing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not at all. He simply doesn't have the patience for it. Teasing him does get you somewhere though, if you're interested. Just don't expect him to humor you for too long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Tries to be as silent as possible. Naturally, he isn't that noisy anyways, but it still embarrasess him. Panting, grunting. Maybe lower-sounding very muffled whimpering (only if you work to get it out of him).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has considered jealousy sex.. On multiple occassions. Only racked up the courage for it once. Just finds it too silly and stupid to do it any other time.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Uncut, six inches. His pubic hair is a slightly darker blond, but similar to his hair. Only keeps it trimmed since he just doesn't get the point to shaving. Too much drama for something that doesn't really cause any difference besides aesthetics.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not high. It's non-existant, supposedly. It's mostly just due to the fact he chooses to ignore it instead of actually indulging himself in sexual pleasure though! Realistically, it's likely just a bit below average.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he does go to sleep afterwards, it's likely after a couple of hours. He has a few things to do beforehand so he won't get to it immediately. Would definitely stick with you for a bit after you fall asleep though, even if he himself decides to not rest.

[beefrobeefcal]

https://x.com/discorobak/status/1696111755909300397?s=46&t=WH4bIMHLTxVR1rMw3VWJ_w OKAYYY i saw this tweet and thought: what if mouse and frankie go on a camping trip and mouse packs a bunch of classic camping food like hotdogs and burgers and popcorn… but especially S’MORES. and frankie loves them so much that he have a little fun with it… (along the same lines as the just desserts update if yknow what i mean 🤭) so excited for more updates, i love frankie and mouse so much !!

HELL YEAH, NONNIE. This is dedicated to all the new Friendos Beefro has made on the platform-formally-known-as-Twitter. Y'all got me riled up!

Beefro 👌🥩💜

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Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Camping Can Be In-Tents

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a dry spell, Mouse gets Frankie into the wilderness.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,326

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, oral (m receiving), p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), eating, belly praise, belly stuffing, rough sexy stuff, fingering (f receiving), hair pulling, tail-gating.

Author's Notes: I know it's been a bit... between a crisis and a cold, your friendly neighbourhood Beefro was shooketh. Thanks for kicking around! Thanks to @nevergoingbacknowshine and the TDS brigade, and of course to the lovely @theywhowriteandknowthings and @harryleatherfit

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You had both been so wrapped up in your work lately. The stress of your jobs made the time you were spending together strained; arguments leading into tense bedtime routines had become more normal, and that intimate connection had become something neither of you could bring yourselves to admit you needed from one another. It had been over a month since he’d fucked you, let alone touched you like that and it sucked. You missed your sweet, soft, gentle, fuckable Frankie, him being replaced with an irritable and short-tempered grouch, although you did see the odd fleck of his old self come though occasionally. And you knew he missed his Mouse; you’d become an overly emotional and temperamental silhouette of yourself. That’s why this weekend was so important – it was your reset, your chance to reconnect. You’d suggested it, knowing that Frankie would jump at the chance to go camping.

You could hear Frankie swearing in the garage as he collected all the camping gear while you packed the food in the various coolers and bags.

“Mouse? Need your help.”, he called out.

As you started to move towards the garage, his calls out to you became a little more panicked.

“MOUSE?!?”

“I’m coming, Frankie!”

Opening the door to your garage, you tried not to laugh aloud at the sight before you. Frankie was wedged between the wall and your spare fridge, trying to reach the packed-away tent on the shelf above and had caused several other stored boxes to come dangerously close to toppling on his head from the top of the fridge.

“What are you doing?”, you laughed as you pushed the offending boxes back into place with a broom handle.

“I don’t know what happened! I guess I bumped the fridge too hard or something....”, he grumbled as he unwedged himself. “I got in there no problem when I put the tent away last year.”

You smiled and patted his belly, straining against his now-too-tight t-shirt. “Well, I would say that there’s a bit more to you than last year, honey.”

He looked down at your hand on his tummy and huffed a laugh as he gave you a blushing smile. “Yeah... I guess so.”

You helped Frankie collect the rest of the camping gear and load up his truck for the morning.

*****

Pre-dawn departures were Frankie’s specialty, not yours. Despite him not being a morning person, the prospect of getting out of the city and on the open road, along with years in the military, had him all sunshine and rainbows at 4:30 am, while you were trying to keep your eyes open long enough to get from the bed, into your jacket and into the truck. Frankie already had your air Pods, a blanket and pillow in the passenger seat for you, knowing that it would be a lost cause to ask you to bring them yourself.

By the time Frankie backed out of your driveway, you were back asleep and didn’t answer him when he asked if you wanted a coffee as he turned into the McDonald’s Drive Thru. Even without an answer, he got you one, as well as enough breakfast sandwiches to keep himself entertained for a good part of the morning.

You finally felt rested enough to open your eyes by 9:30 am to see Frankie humming along with his music, tapping gently on the steering wheel.

“Hey... have a good sleep?”, he asked smiling when he saw you pull your air Pods out.

You nodded and groaned as you stretched and yawned. “Not a bad sleep... where are we?”

“About an hour or so from the lake.”, he responded with a grin.

Frankie was about to be in his element; in the outdoors, his survival instincts kicked in high gear, and he loved every minute of it. You, on the other hand, felt lost without cell service or Wi-Fi, and detested with every fiber of your being the creepy crawlies that seemed to come out in droves at your arrival. But part of Frankie loving the outdoors was trying to keep you as comfortable as possible so he could enjoy you at the same time.

*****

Arriving at the secluded and private site was the easy part; setting up was not so much. Frankie was trying to get the tent set up, and since it was put away in a hurry last year and he didn’t check it when you got home or when he pulled it out the day before, everything had come out of the bag in a jumbled mess, and you had made the mistake of pointing out his folly right after he’d realized he’d forgotten his hammer.

"If you would just let me help, Frankie!”, you pleaded with thinly masked frustration at his inability to take your help.

He grunted as his eyes narrowed at you from under his ball cap and you stared right back at him.

He broke the stare first with an eyeroll and a huff, returning to the tangled mess that would hopefully be your tent and you turned and started to unload the truck. By the time you’d unloaded, gotten the bags and containers arranged, and set up the chairs around the vacant campfire, Frankie had gotten the tent up and was crouched down, hammering the pegs into the ground with a rock. You couldn’t help but watch as his broad back moved and flexed under his t-shirt, while his thick, beefy arms were bursting out from the sleeves. You longed for those arms to toss you down onto whatever surface was available and have his body pin you down and fuck you senseless. God damn it, you missed him in a debilitating way that made you feel hollow.

He caught you staring and briefly gave you an unreadable look then went back to hammering more pegs, and you could feel the flush of heat wash over your body. God damn it, you needed him.

It was well passed noon when Frankie got the fire going and you’d gotten the stuff out for hot dogs. Maybe you could ease yourself into his arms with food? You were so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t realize your mouth was open and you were staring at him again until a bird flew far too close to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. You quickly tried to look like you knew what task you were trying to complete, but Frankie saw the whole thing. His eyes met yours for just a moment and you gave him a small, forced smile, trying to play it off like it was nothing, like he didn’t see what he thought he saw. Your eyes went back down to the cutting board on the picnic table and the onions you were slicing up for the hot dogs.

Getting the metal rods out, you pierced the hot dogs on their ends and started cooking them. Frankie set up the air mattress and set out the sleeping bags. You were tempted to tell him yours could be left in the truck so you could share one, but you kept your mouth closed and focused on the hot dogs. Once ready, you silently plated them in the buns, dressed exactly how Frankie liked them and you placed the plate in front of him. You forwent your own, your stomach in knots, and started cleaning up, knowing the lecture you would get if it weren’t done properly because it could attract bugs and god knows what else to your site.

Frankie sat and ate his hot dogs, and after he finished one, his irritation cooled down. He watched you, his desperation for your touch had increased after he caught you ogling him. He knew he’d been completely out of line as of late, his frustration at his work dog piling on you for no other reason than you were in the line of fire. Your back was to him as you dug through a bag, and he watched the way your lithe body move. He imagined the sweet noises you would make for him as he railed you against the truck. God damn it, he needed you in a way that should have made him feel filthy.

He realized you were looking for his pajamas to put in the tent for him. His heart skipped a beat when he looked in the tent and saw his toiletries and swim trunks laid out on his sleeping bag; you were taking care of him, and he felt like a complete asshole. God damnit, he missed you.

*****

For the rest of the afternoon, the two of you moved through a slow dance of silent, touchless fore playing, catching one another giving once overs and longing stares, while trying to break the other’s resolve with movements. By the time you pulled out what you’d planned for dinner – two big cans of Chef Boyardee ravioli and garlic toast – you’d decided that he was going to fuck you, whether he knew it or not.

“We can just have hot dogs again, baby.” Frankie’s voice, although softer and gentler than it had been in a while, cut through the silence between you, but you didn’t want to look up to him, you wanted him to come to you and make you stop. So, you pretended you couldn’t hear him while you stood with your back to him and the fire.

You had no idea he’d gotten so close to you when he gently put his hand out and took the can opener from you, placing it on the picnic table. He held your hand in his, feeling your body tremble with just his touch, and turned you around to look at him. This was the gentlest with one another in over a month, and you could barely contain the utter arousal and excitement at this small, sweet act of intimacy.

He pulled back from you, and you looked up at him. His soft brown eyes were screaming in need, scanning your face and begging for you to say something. So, you did.

 “I miss you, baby, and I – “

Frankie cut you off abruptly by smashing his lips onto yours, his mouth fiercely fighting to get any kind of barrier between you gone. Your body melted against his as he pulled you further into him. His tongue ran along your lips, looking to deepen the kiss further, and when he was granted entrance, he moaned into your mouth and his hand ran down your side and hitched your knee up onto his hip.

Finally parting, and both panting to catch your breath, your lips still almost touching.

“Fuck, Mouse… baby… I miss you, too…”

He kissed you again and as you both found your rhythm again, his belly grumbled loudly, telling him it was time to eat.

“Fuck…”, he grumbled as he pushed his forehead against yours, and you smiled at him.

“Let’s get you fed, baby.”

*****

Almost a full pack of hot dogs later, Frankie was getting full. Sitting back into his camping chair, he stifled a burp and smiled at you.

“You want any more?”, you asked, holding up one of the metal rods.

He raised an eyebrow at you, then grinned. “No, princess… I gotta have room for dessert.”

Frankie stood up slowly, and as he reached his full height, his full tummy pushed up his t-shirt. He stood in front of you and cupped your jaw, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he looked down at you. Your lips parted and your breathing quickened, anticipation of what he would do or say at an all-time high.

“You got any marshmallows, princess?” His voice was low and thick with need as his eyes looked into yours.

It took you a moment to realize what he’d asked you, not anticipating that.

“W-what?”

“Marshmallows.”, he spoke slowly with a dark grin on his face.

You turned and reached for the grocery bag of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. He removed his hand from your jaw and took it, then reached for the metal rod. He winked at you and returned to his chair by the fire. As he got few marshmallows onto the rod, you stared at him, confused and horny.

“Frankie?...”

“Better get those clothes off if you don’t want to get s’mores all over them, princess.”, he said in a nonchalant voice, not even looking up at you.

You hesitated but remembered that you’d specifically booked a private site, and other campers would only be able to hear you. Once fully naked, minus your slider sandals, you stood off to the side of Frankie, and he looked over at you.

“Fuck, baby… missed you…”, he groaned slack jawed, his eyes racking over you. He reached out for your hand and pulled you to straddle one of his legs, and his sticky fingers tweaked one of your nipples.

“Frankie… fuck, I need you…”, you moaned as you shivered at his touch.

He grabbed one of the toasted marshmallows off the rod and a piece of chocolate, squishing them together between his fingers and dragged the warm concoction down the valley between your tits. You yelped and his other held you firmly in place.

“Told you I needed room for dessert, princess.”, he said huskily, then licked his wide, flat tongue up the chocolaty trail and sucked on your neck.

“Please, Frankie… need you so bad… don’t tease…”, you begged in a breathy, desperate voice.

You began to rock your core against his rough denim as he smeared more s’mores on your nipples and chest. He licked and sucked the sugary residue off you as your weeping, aching cunt drooled, and you grinded your core into his jeans. Every time the rough denim texture hit your clit in just that way, you arched your back into his mouth and moaned, while he repeated his smearing, licking and sucking. You needed more so you reached your hand down and began to palm his crotch and could feel the weight of his thick, heavy cock coming to attention. He whined as he held your nipple between his teeth and his hips bucked, pushing his full belly into you.

Your bodies were screaming for the other, too long since you’d touched one another like this, and the need and desperation was heavy in your breathing and grasping of each other.

He dropped his head back and grabbed your arm, pulling you hand away from his rock-hard cock, but your hips grinding against his jeans kept going.

“Mouse… gonna come in my pants if you keep that up… wanna fuck you… please baby… gonna come on my jeans? Huh, princess?... So fucking needy… Jesus… missed this body… come on, baby… keep going…”

He watched you, his hands only holding you in place and not assisting with your movements. You could feel you were close, and his words just egged you on to your climax. You cried out as you came but didn’t break eye contact. Frankie’s grip on you tighten, and his hands began to move you to keep your hips grinding his leg, and he groaned at you while you came through gritted teeth

“Atta girl… good girl, yeah… make that pussy weep, princess… that’s it, baby… soaking my jeans… can’t wait to fuck your sweet little pussy again… been too long…”

Before you could fully come down, Frankie had you standing and was bending you over the open tailgate to his truck, then ran a finger into your glistening, swollen folds before plunging it into your weeping hole. You cried out and arched your back, but his hand rubbed between your shoulders, coaxing you down. His hand splayed out on your back and held you firmly in place as he added another finger and increased his speed.

“Yeah, baby… pussy missed me… I missed her so fucking bad…”, he panted, his eyes focused on watching his thick wet fingers disappear over and over into your cunt. “Never want to go that long without you again, princess… fuck you look so good getting fucked on my fingers… so fucking wet and warm… come on, baby… know you’re close… I can feel it… let go… come on, princess… be a good girl and come on my fingers then I’ll fuck you raw…”

His final words shot through you, and you came loudly and squirting all over his hand and arm. You could hear the liquid splashing onto the dirt; it was obscene, and it was perfect.

“Good girl…”, he praised breathlessly, pressing a kiss to your back before sucking his fingers clean.

You could hear his belt being undone and then heard his jeans being tossed onto the ground. He grabbed your hip with one hand and used the other to line himself up with your entrance. Slowly pushing in, he moaned, and you whined, trying to push your hips back into him to make him go faster.

“So fucking impatient… So fucking needy.”, he grunted as he held you in place and buried himself to the hilt into you, and you felt his full, heavy belly resting against your ass.

“Frankie… please move, baby… need you to move…”, you begged, crying out pathetically.

He huffed a laugh and gripped your hips hard in his large hands.

“Need me to be rough, princess? … need it hard?”, he grunted as his hips began to move slowly. Frankie wanted to savour this with you, he didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want to spoil it.

“God, please, Frankie!”, you cried out, his slow movements agonizing and leaving you needing so much more.

“Promise me, princess… promise me you won’t let me go that long again from burying myself in your gorgeous pussy…”

His hips started to thrust at the same pace but harder, and you panted a whiny “uh-huh!” in response to him. It was enough of an answer for Frankie. His hips began to snap into yours faster and harder.

The weight of his bulk behind you mixed with the momentum he was building pushed him deep into you each time he thrusted and forced out a loud cry from your mouth. You’d more than likely have bruises on the front of your thighs from the tailgate, but you didn’t care.

“Oh fuck… Mouse…. Baby… missed this… god damnit, your pussy’s like heaven… fucking Christ… yeah… oh fuck, fuck, fuck… baby, not-fuck!... not gonna last much longer… need you to- ugh - come…”

“I’m cl-close… oh fuck… oh god… Fr-Frankie… please… please, please, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!”

You came with a loud cry, arching your back again and Frankie pulled you flush with his belly and he thrusted into you.

“Frankie… please… come in my mouth… wanna eat your… your come…”, you panted, and he groaned, pulling out of you.

You turned around and he grabbed your hair, pulling you down on your knees, and he shoved his hard, glistening member into your mouth. He fucked into your mouth for a moment, and his hot spend shot in ribbons into your throat and mouth, spilling out onto your chin and chest with each thrust.

He finally stilled and grunted as he stood back and watched you run your fingers over your chin then suck his come off your digits, humming in satisfaction.

“Fuck…”, he groaned as he watched you, moving backwards to sit in the camping chair again.

You stood up and walked towards him; leaning forward, you pressed a messy kiss to his mouth, sharing your combined taste with him and receiving a hint of chocolate from him. You pressed a hand down on his full belly and smiled.

“You still got room in there for more dessert, Frankie… What can I get you, baby?”, you asked with a wry grin, lifting his shirt and rubbing his stomach.

He looked up at you, eyes looking glazed over in desire. “You, princess.”, he breathed back.

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TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball

[directdogman]

hey howdy hey! first off, i wanna say that ive been following dialtown since it was a wee baby demo and i have loved to see every inch of progress it has made. i love this game to bits. i can't accurately express how much of a comfort game it is to me, or compliment the writing enough, but rest assured that i believe it's a fockin masterpiece (even if that means i am damned to hell. i welcome u, phone-satan)

that being said! woe be upon ye, i have lore questions for ya (and i'll probably ask more at a later date)

i would love to hear more about callum crown. literally any detail(s) you can comfortably give that wouldn't spoil a potential sequel or that 30-page lore doc (tho , gotta say, i wanna see that lore doc real bad).

you've said before that you'd like to expand on the singular timeline (how all of the routes coalesce in chapter 3) in dialtown, but that it's tough to put the words you have on paper into words on tumblr. i've got time. lemme read info on the timeline i beg of you

is there any particular reason that phonegingi's head resembles callum's, to the point that callum's 3D model head uses gingi's as a base?? there are hints (i use that term loosely) on your blog that gingi might have modeled their head after callum's. is there anything to that?

moreover, i'd like to know if there's more of a connection between callum and gingi than the heads alone. i mean, gingi literally hears callum's voice before hearing anything about the guy, and they can also somehow read his postcard (without the narrator) DESPITE being illiterate?

finally, a silly one, since winter is upon us! how does norm handle dialtown's winters, being a native arizonan/texan and all? as somebody who lived in arizona, lemme tell ya, the folks there don't take kindly to winter.

i know this is a lot, so thank you if you even took the time to read lol

Some really interesting questions here. I could write an essay in response to some of these questions, which means you’ve undoubtedly asked some good questions heh. You're a sharp one. Lemme answer these as best I can without anticlimactically revealing essential lore in this random tumblr post heh heh

> "i would love to hear more about callum crown. literally any detail(s) you can comfortably give that wouldn't spoil a potential sequel or that 30-page lore doc (tho , gotta say, i wanna see that lore doc real bad)." The stupid thing about that lore doc is that it should be even LONGER. While parts of the Dialup are explained, parts are left out, because I realized that explaining it would require adequately explaining a piece of very strange context regarding another character. Long story short, it connects to something that should ordinarily be very far removed from Crown's tale, so I left it out. I actually left entire pages out to avoid having to explain who someone previously unmentioned in the doc was. Crown's story is funny in the sense that so much of it is why Dialtown (both the game and the city) is the way it is, but the main story of Dialtown is so far removed from it, the only connections to it remaining being Mingus/Norm's beef. Norm's account of Crown's life isn't exactly inaccurate, no one thing he says is technically incorrect, but it misses vital context that completely changes parts of it. Norm missed the end of Crown's presidency, so he also had to learn from revisionist/secondary sources. Some parts are overly detailed, while other parts aren't. EG: Crown's early life has a LOT of focus, but as the timeline gets closer to the end, the detail slows down. Crown's two years of 'honorary leader of the UN' is brushed over, a title that implies he had control over the entire world briefly. As Norm's extras menu implies, Norm is (just like in Mingus) in partial denial about aspects of Crown's leadership and is also in the dark about the behind the scenes stuff from Crown's presidency. Crown's vice president (and best friend, Milton R. Wallace) ended his life after falling out with Crown over the Dialup, and the postcard read in chapter 3 heavily implies that Marla had returned to Dialtown without Crown after he left office. Since Mingus exists, we know Marla + Crown had at least one kid together. Could you imagine trying to raise a young family with the most powerful man in the world, a man who plans his day down to the hour, all without even having a permanent address? Crown’s final days were lonelier than Norm knows and I’d love to discuss them more one day.    

> “you've said before that you'd like to expand on the singular timeline (how all of the routes coalesce in chapter 3) in dialtown, but that it's tough to put the words you have on paper into words on tumblr. i've got time. lemme read info on the timeline i beg of you” There isn’t much I can really say about the timeline without just calling attention to what’s already seen in-game. Any instance in-game where time seems to be falling apart, there’s common visual signs that reality itself is tearing apart at the seams, hell, even outside of the main endings. Only one character in the cast seems to be really aware of this and... Well, seeing God binge-drinking on the curb is usually a bad sign of what’s to come. Hitchcock’s advice for writers who wanna add suspense to a scene is to make people unaware of something significant that’s about to happen. Example: Two men sitting at a table in a diner, talking about something, say, like football... Not a massively suspenseful scene. However, add a live bomb underneath the table, and establish that neither of the men know that it’s there, and every second of that scene will feel like hours, as you hope to GOD that one of the men will look under the table and notice the bomb before it goes off. The bomb under Dialtown’s ‘table’ has a long fuse, but the clock’s ticking down. A lot of what people have noticed regarding Dialtown’s time fuckery is a symptom of something (or someone?) desperately trying to plug up holes in a sinking ship. Anyway, I think I’ve said enough.    

> “is there any particular reason that phonegingi's head resemblescallum's, to the point that callum's 3D model head uses gingi's as abase?? there are hints (i use that term loosely) on your blog that gingi might have modeled their head after callum's. is there anything to that?” Fun question, and a tough one to wrap your head around. Callum Crown’s fame makes it impossible to tell if there really is any connection between him and Gingi’s appearance outside of an eerie coincidence. If Gingi’s head resembled a frankensteined JFK, I don’t think anyone would think for a moment that it meant that JFK and Gingi shared a direct connection, of course, and same for say, Mr Bean and the like. But Crown himself also being connected directly to Norm + Mingus makes it strange. Maybe it’s just the universe’s weird way of doing things, or maybe caused by an intrinsically unknown force? Maybe whoever built Gingi’s phone head just felt that it should look like the most powerful man on earth? Lotta possibilities. I mean. Like, I know the answer. But, for you guys, maaany possibilities!  

> “moreover, i'd like to know if there's more of a connection between callum and gingi than the heads alone. i mean, gingi literally hears callum's voice before hearing anything about the guy, and they can also somehow read his postcard (without the narrator) DESPITE being illiterate?” Again, gotta commend your sharpness, I’ve heard very few people really ask about this. The big issue with the question, of course, is how utterly abnormal Gingi is. God outright implies that Gingi is some sort of time anomaly, since he’s never seen anything quite like Gingi before, and with some of Gingi’s 4th wall breaking dialogue, it seems Gingi has some fleeting awareness of events in other timelines, somehow. That’s excluding Gingi’s weird biology or the fact that Gingi can hear sentient voices. Gingi is unique. You’re right that Gingi being able to hear Crown is abnormal, and combined with, like you said, them having similar appearances (and hell, I’ll add fuel to the fire: how transfixed Crown was with Gingi in that memory Mingus tearfully recounts during the climax, the one where Crown stares at Gingi while Gingi rummages through the garbage outside his window at the nursing home), there’s enough of a connection to be weird, but not enough of one to say anything conclusive. In my eyes, though, I reckon that some universal force could be drawing these two weirdos together, almost like a moth to a lamp. Birds of a feather.   

> “finally, a silly one, since winter is upon us! how does norm handle dialtown's winters, being a native arizonan/texan and all? as somebody who lived in arizona, lemme tell ya, the folks there don't take kindly to winter.” I imagine when he lived in the cabin, during the winter, Norm CONSTANTLY had a fire lit and basically didn’t leave it. Probably had some kind of insane insulation through hunting animals and shoving the pelts into the walls, or something. I guess he wouldn’t had the time to kill, alright.

Thanks for the great questions. Sorry for the vagueness, but hope you got something out of these answers regardless! Some of this stuff will for sure be coming up in future Dialtown stuff! Knowledge is pain!

[reds-ultrakill-brainrot]

Hello! I'd like to ask for a music match please :)

My pronouns are they/him (he/him preferred atm), I'd like to get matched for Gabriel (I headcanon him as trans, and that he's insecure about his face a little bit so he wears the helmet! I think it's lovely)

I... Don't entirely know where to start. On the positive, I'm a big fan of music, I love art, I looooove machines. I really wish I was one; the kind of vibes I would give would be immaculate.

I'm big into like, either the most sopping wet pathetic men imaginable, or women who could probably like, crush my skull or something. Don't know why.

On the negative, I've got DID (two alters but they almost never show up), really bad memory loss & migraines, and a complete lack of understanding of myself. Each new day is like learning I'm a different person all over again, and I kind of mold to the people around me, but this is getting better with help.

Additionally, I'm very insecure and I've got a bit of a savior complex. I love dark themes in media, but need a happy ending or I'll cry. I need a good amount of validation or I'll totally fall apart (once again, also getting better with help!!!), but I'm very open & communicative about my needs and willing to negotiate things with people.

I love music with themes of rebellion and attitude, and I love a good story about sticking it to the man and going your own way. In media, I've always loved seeing stories of tragic heroes falling at their own hands but being swept up by someone stronger and sturdier than them, even if it's just for the moment. I've seen myself in the weak one, and I've always wanted to be the strong one.

I've always wanted to save someone from the same situation I was in when I was young, and that's carried onto my adult life. I think this carries into my taste of music and partners; I can't handle anything too happy, or it feels fake. There are very few people who I comfortable with being overly positive towards me.

My life is almost defined by labels. Without them, I would feel lost. I wouldn't be able to just point to a section of the DSM-V and go "oh, right there, that's me."

Silly note, I am mad autistic and start crazy stimming and squealing whenever I hear either a honking bicycle horn, or the KLING of a coin as it's being flipped. I also like to gnaw on things, I'm the guard dog of my friends, and I constantly flip between insanely high-energy and insanely low-energy.

Gen really sorry if this is wonky or too much at all, I'm not good with these... Tysm :))) Also, I'm an INFP-T and an Aries, if either of those help!!!

- TT

♫♪.ılılıll Gabriel Music Match llılılı.♫♪

INFP-T Aries He/Him/They/Them Alias-TT

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1. Remember My Name - Mitski a song about feeling valued for what you give others and feelings of inadequacy both past and present. i feel both you and Gabriel would connect over this. for him, his entire creation and purpose was centred around his service to heaven, the council and ultimately the Father. losing this along with his trust in the council and the belief in his creator would undoubtably leave him with questions about his own worth now he was unwilling/unable to fulfill his duties. for what is the fate of an angel scorned by Heaven? "just how many stars will i need to hang around me to finally call it heaven?"

2. Til We Run Out Of Air - Hatchie a song for the saviour complex in you. ultimately about hope after dark times, this is sure to prompt a happy daydream/scenario or two. this song also has parts alluding to self worth issues, which as previously mentioned could be applicable to either of you. true connection and compassion untied to his performance of his duties or role in Heaven is something Gabriel is truly unfamiliar with, but now he has you. you're here for the ups and downs, not keen to give up on him so quickly. "to spend your whole life as your enemy such a crime"

3. Lovesong - The Cure seeing Gabriel struggle with emotions/feelings you similarly have delt with, you recognise and empathise with him in a way that was never provided for him before. i feel this song could apply both ways, your love and care give him the motivation to continue to find his own purpose and worth, and for you he would provide the same compassion in return. as you mentioned appreciating validation the repeated admissions of love could once again go both ways, depending on how you feel at the it might help to imagine this is him talking to you, or you to him. "whenever i'm alone with you you make me feel like i am whole again"

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i apologise for the lack of overtly punk/rebellious music, however finding songs that were about a relationship in some way that fit that theme and weren't about unhealthy dynamics was very difficult. that being said i hope you like what i came up with, and if you want an additional 3 songs please feel free to send in another request. also apologies again if i sound clinical/uncaring when i speak about insecurity or similar negative self ideals/perceptions, i'm being direct about what i see patterns/connections with. thank you for reading

[fanfic-gallery]

Manager's random thots #4 [ NSFW MDNI ]

: ̗̀➛ Manager's/Author's note : I've only now realised that despite how obsessed I am with yanderes, I don't post much about them- let's change that ~<3

✦˚ more nurturing, maturnal yanderes have habits of 'babying' their darlings, some would even go to the extreme of 'baby-proofing' any and everything, especially those who are unnaturally paranoid and overprotective

✦˚ would purchase rubbers for the corners of tables and cabinets. giant custom made 'baby gates' installed on the stairs and every door in the house. would cushion proof everything in your room, from the floor to the frame of your bed, sometimes he would take away plushies he had bought for you previously due to him noticing sharp edges sticking out of the fluff

✦˚ plastic plates, bowls and utensils. if you think about stabbing him with it, good try sweetheart, but that spork was specifically made for babies to handle. won't settle for paper plates, even if you manage to snap all of your plastic dishes into two, he would rather place your food on his glass plate [ of course you aren't the one handling it, he is feed you himself ] than to give your own paper plate. what if you managed to bite some of the paper and swallowed it? he just can't let that happen, even if it's only a small percentage of that happening

✦˚ speaking of food, he would take the time to grind up homemade baby food for you to feast on. why, you may ask? so you won't choke, silly~ his heart can't bare the thought of you slowly coughing and grasping to death when he let's you get the privilege of eating on your own.

✦˚ bands you from even being an inch near the kitchen. you might slip from the oils that had founds its way on the tiles when he was cooking, or you might burn yourself and ruin your perfect skin. would literally faint if he sees you with a knife in your hand even if it's just a butter one, would either launch at you or sneak up from behind and take it away

✦˚ if they had some muscle to them, would insist on carrying you everywhere, bridal style of course, they could never be that barbaric with their love~ you need to have a bit of a bathroom break, you'd be already in their arms as they book for the nearest restroom

✦˚ most would have sensitive tits or for better phrasing, very sensitive nipples. absolutely loves when you 'suckle' at their pink bud, trying you're absolute hardest to milk them dry. would literally cum on the spot when only given a few hard nips

✦˚ 👏ser-👏vice👏tops, 👏soft👏doms, 👏ser-👏vice👏switches, the works. would treat you like their little princess/prince/baby, no degradation, always sicklingly sweet praises in your ear as their cock pushes at your spot over and over again, your back arching, your lovely moans and whimpers filling the room to his heart's content

✦˚ 👏ser-👏vice👏subs, their tongue dragging against your sex, nipping and grasing the expose skin, drinking up all that pre and the juices leaking from your slit, eyes in direct contact with yours, o' so hazed with lust, relishing in the fact that they are the only ones that could make you act, feel and be this way

✦˚ aftercare? 100 out of 10, literally nothing can beat it, sometimes dealing with their overly clingy attitude afterwards is so worth it. him scrubbing away at your skin so softly during baths, remedies of a warm tea with honey, and cuddles. whether you being the small spoon or big spoon, his touch and body are like literally pillows

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hey there! I wasn't sure if this was something you're comfortable writing, so if not, feel free to skip! I couldn't find anything in your faq but I just wanted to make sure!

Can I request a reader who never really drinks getting a little tipsy after a particularly stressful day? Just acting kind of giggly and clingy to their s/o? Nothing dubious ofc just some fluff 🥰 for Diluc, Xiao and Kaeya?

^ This made me laugh. I am a LIGHTWEIGHT, so I tend to get drunk after like ... one beer - haha! Anyway - enjoy ;) 

Tipsy, Touchy

Warning -> flirty, touching, fluff, mentions of alcohol, and getting drunk

Includes: Diluc, Xiao, Kaeya

Character x GN Reader  |  Anthology

Diluc

He’s a bit shocked when you go beyond your normal one drink, in fact, he’s a little surprised at your demeanor in general - normally you only had a drink if the event warranted it, but today, you seemed to be throwing them back all on your own 

“Did something happen?” he asks you, his attention on the third glass you’ve begged him to pour. 

“Today,” you groan, your words already slurring a little, “was … not. good.” He can see the alcohol already making an impression on your skin. Your cheeks were flushed and you kept fussing with your hair, little strands making their own decisions as if in defiance of your touch. 

“Hmm, well don’t go overboard.” 

Once you reach your fourth drink, we gotta cut you off, too drunky. And worse, you were starting to get a little handsy with the people around you. You’d already given a few of the female patrons a hug goodbye, telling them you were the designated “send-off committee”

In fact, you were having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself especially when it came to Diluc. When he forcibly switched you from wine to water you grabbed onto his arm, or tried to convince him to lean in close so you could share with him a secret - he wouldn’t 

You thought everything was funny, and he often caught you giggling to yourself or chuckling after the small conversation you and he shared 

He wasn’t really on board with your ostentatious behavior, but he did enjoy seeing you smile in the grandiose way you were - unreserved and relentless 

As the evening beings to slow and patrons leave the bar, you were trying to work out a thought in your head. It had been floating around for a while and you weren’t doing a good job keeping it off your face. 

“Hey,” you finally speak up. You wait to finish your thought until Diluc looks at you. He’s been gathering the final glasses from the tables so he takes a bit to react to you. “Come here.” You beckon, uneasily, with your finger for him to walk closer to you. 

When he does, you wave him down so his face is close to yours. 

“You.” You point your finger at him, “are my favorite person.” There is a smirk on your face and playful energy in your eyes. 

He scoffs at you and tries to retreat but you grab his face in your hands, “Wait. Wait. Diluc Ragnvindr ... “ he’s so close to you, his face, his eyelashes, his lips … it’s too much and in defeat you let him go, dropping your head in your hands. “Ugh, you are much too attractive for me right now.” 

“You are a lot of things right now.” You peek your eyes out from over your arms and see him rubbing the back of his neck, his head turned to the side. There is no doubt in your mind he is blushing. 

“You’re blushing!” you shout. The excitement of his reaction is too much to handle. 

“Shut up.” He tosses a towel your way and disappears into the back office. 

Diluc makes a mental note to not let you drink that much in public again, not only is he worried you might do something dumb, but he worries how he will keep his composure

Xiao

Xiao would have no idea what to do with alcohol. He doesn’t touch the stuff, so he wouldn’t really know the common behaviors of inebriated people 

He’d probably take whatever you were drinking and dump it out in front of you the drunker you became - he could barely handle normal humans, let alone a drunk one 

“What are you drinking anyway?” He looks at the bottle, turning it over in his hands. 

“I don’t know, I picked it up on the way out here.” You rub your hands over your face, the wine hasn’t fully hit you but you know with the amount you drank it’s only a matter of time. 

“Is it normal for humans to drink so much, all at once?” 

“Meh, maybe? Today was the worst though, so I’m giving myself permission.” 

It’s hard to tell if he would have any reaction to your tipsy behavior other than being exhausted by it

The way you laugh at things, that to him, aren’t funny or how you try to ask him really silly questions about things he wouldn’t know anything about 

Xiao is prickly, so you’d have to push through a lot of spikes to get to the gentle core he’s given you flashes of, so don’t get offended if he reacts to your clingy-ness in an irritating way 

He just doesn’t let people in very easily, and even though you two are together, and you’ve been physical before, this level of touch might be overstimulating for him 

You look at him from the floor of the inn. He is sitting on a pillow with his eyes closed. There were many nights you spent with him where you just fit yourselves into each other's space, like pieces of a puzzle nestled tightly together. He looked so regal, and you wondered how he would act if you poked at him. 

Carefully, you crawled your way over to him with wobbly limbs. When you got close enough you whispered his name. 

“Xiao…” He opened his eyes and is startled by how close your face is to him. His arms launched to his sides to steady himself as he leaned back away from your proximity. The reaction made you laugh.

“What?” 

“Nothing, I just wanted to get closer to you.” you desperately want to touch him: his cheeks, his forehead, his collarbone, his arms and hands, you wanted to touch them all. The alcohol emboldened you. You scoot closer to him, your sides practically touching, and, in an instant, you wrap your arms around his. The grip you have is possessive. 

He sighs but doesn’t push you away. So you tread onward. You slide behind him and wrap your arms around his chest, each of your legs on either side of him Rubbing your face against his back you breathe him in, he smells like rain after a thunderstorm. 

“I like you.” You place a kiss on his exposed shoulder before resting your cheek against him. 

It’s quiet for a time, all you hear is his beating heart and slow breaths. You don’t expect him to answer you, or say anything, you know he likes you by the way he lets you cling to him like this. That’s all you’ll ever need him to say. 

“Are you always going to be this clingy when you drink?” the question breaks the silence. 

“Mm, possibly, I don’t normally drink this much. Why.” You return his question with your own, slightly tilting his body to the side so you can strain your head to look at his face. 

“No reason.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see the blush on his face. 

Kaeya

Kaeya finds your behavior hilarious. He’d be so enamored with the way you were acting and amazed it happens with only a few drinks of alcohol in you

“You’re putting those away,” he’d muse over his own beverage. 

“Well,” you’d say as you empty yet another glass. “Today sucked! So i’m drowning my stress in sweet, sweet alcohol.” 

“Cheers to that!” 

When you laugh he melts, when you giggle he nearly passes out, and he’s having a hard time not fainting right now. Everything he says to you sends you into a fit of laughter and he just can’t stop himself - he’s obsessed with you and when he can see something new that he’s never noticed before he is filled with pride 

For instance, he didn’t know that when you laugh when drinking that you shield your eyes and nose and let out breathless laughter. He didn’t know that when you had several drinks you started to get louder and louder - which may have annoyed others, but he found it endearing

“... and after finishing the bottle he passed out for three whole days. And that is why our aloof bar owner doesn’t drink.” You can’t help but laugh, you’ve heard this story already but it makes you chuckle every single time. 

“Kaeya, how many times are you going to tell that story…” Diluc warns from behind the counter, his hands dangerously wrapped around the neck of a wine bottle. 

“Oh, come on. Look at how happy it’s made them.” 

“I’m cutting you both off.” 

“Hey!” Even with the cap on your drinking for the night, you couldn’t stifle your laughter. 

Normally, Kaeya is the overly touchy one. His hands cannot keep themselves from your tempting body. So when you cling to him he finds the action rather refreshing 

Wrapping your arms around his, leaning your head on his shoulder or digging it into his arm. Scooting closer to him, practically sitting on his lap, he finds it all a riot - don’t be shocked if he helps you into a comfortable position on or between his legs 

“Kaeya,” you look at him, your head bobbing around, your cheeks the color of pomegranates, and your hair falling out of place. 

“Yes, lovely?” He helps steady you, a possessive hand wrapping around your lower back and his other moving from your shoulder or lower arm, whichever one needs the most support. 

You giggle, and the sound pulls at his heart, “Do you know that you’re handsome? Like, really, really handsome.” 

“I’m glad you think so.” 

“No, listen, it’s kinda ridiculous how attractive you are. LIKE … WhO do you think you are with this face?? hmmM?” You wave your hand in front of him as if to drive home your point. You aren’t sure what answer you wanted from him, but his laughter seems satisfactory enough and you join in shortly after. 

He finds everything you do to be adorable, but multiplied by ten when you start drinking - he will always make sure you have a good time, and as long as you are safe and happy he will be there to join in on the fun

[jen-o-jam]

[12:10 am] 

Johnny gripped the metal handle on the swing glass door of the school. It wasn’t like Sooyoung to get in trouble. If anything she avoided it. Even when Johnny and you argued she tried to hide away, or stop it. Not that you and him argued all that much anyways.

“What could she have possibly done..?”, he wondered as he walked into the building. His eyes scanning curiously for the office portion. He had never really been inside more than a few times. Johnny picked up Sooyoung a lot, but this was different. Her teacher had called you, while you were in a meeting, which you couldn’t really miss. So you had Johnny go in your place. There was no problem with that for either of you. Sooyoung saw him as her dad anyways.

“Could you possibly point me in the direction of room k4? I’m here to talk to the teacher about Sooyoung. Her mom couldn’t come, so I’m in her place”, he babbled out as the woman at the desk was obviously caught off guard from his presence. Johnny wasn’t one to be nervous, but he was now.

“Oh- Um, certainly. What’s your name?”, she asked back. Typing away on the computer as she pulled up Sooyoung’s file, making sure Johnny was on the visitor list. Otherwise she would have to call you

“Johnny Suh, I’m her step dad”, he announced. Throwing that name out there instead of trying to explain he was just the guy Sooyoung’s mom was dating.

“Oh. I see! You are good to go! It is straight back and to the right. It should be the fourth door.”, the younger girl instructed, standing up to hand him a sticker that just said “visitor”.

“Thank you for the help!”, Johnny hummed, placing it on the right of his chest. Making sure it was viable, before slipping out the door. The strange but familiar smell of a primary school gracing him. It was quite, almost eerie as his shoes stopped making noise against the tiled floor as it switched over to carpet. Walking past the empty kindergarten classrooms till he reached his destination. Taking a liberty he knocked on the open door.

The little girl noticing him befor her teacher. Quickly jumping up from whatever she was coloring to run to him. A puzzled but happy look played on her face as she cupped Johnny’s cheeks. Looking around to find you, before smiling at him.

“Your not mommy”, she stated with a giggle. Johnny obviously melting at the echo of the little girl. He was smitten with her. He couldn’t help but to dote on her.

“Well, no, silly thing”, he chuckled, setting her down as her teacher walked up. Happily greeting her as Sooyoung held his hand.

“It is nice to finally meet you. I’m assuming your her step father. Sooyoung talks about you all the time”, she chuckled, smiling at the little girl as she lead Johnny into the room. The woman putting an emphasis on the fact Johnny wasn’t really Sooyoung’s father. Which was more than a little off putting for him. The only reason the teacher knew this was because of the call earlier. She had called you, and you explained the situation, how Johnny would be filling in her place and all.

The three taking a seat at a desk. Sooyoung slipping out of Johnny’s lap to go back to her coloring, getting rather bord of the talking.

“As you know, I called you here to discuss something that happened today. Her and another little girl had a bit of an argument. From what was said the little girl pushed Sooyoung’s friend over a toy, so Sooyoung tried to stand up for her friend. I decided it was best to talk to both sets of parents. I didn’t see all of it, so I figured it was best that way”, Johnny already knew with the way her teacher was talking, Sooyoung wasn’t proud of herself at all. She was a sweet little girl.

“Ah...I see..I’m sorry for the trouble”

“I’m not sure how much authority you hold over her compared to her actual dad, so I would discuss it with her mother. See what should be done?” The woman continues. The slight jabs setting Johnny off. Why did she feel the need to keep bringing that up. It wasn’t anything overly malicious, but off putting.

“Miss, I mean no offense, but I am her father. Me not being her biological father makes no difference in how I help raise and love her. She has grown up with me in her life and that will not change. I’m sorry to come across rude, but I would appreciate it if you stop referring to me as her step dad the way you are. Sooyoung means the world to me, love is more than just blood”, Johnny ranted. His obvious frustration showing on his face as he continued, but never got loud, or even aggressive with his tone. Slowly softening once again.

The teacher caught off guard a bit just nodded. Staying quiet for a moment as she tried to apologize. Yet, Johnny was already moving to get up.

“Princess, it is time to go~”, he hummed sweetly. Taking her little hand in his once she reached him. His attention going back to her teacher.

“I’m sorry for that, it was nice to meet you...”

“Same for you”, her teacher responded with a smile. She clearly felt bad over the comments she made. It was a poor judgment of Johnny. Yet, Johnny couldn’t really focus on that as him and Sooyoung left. The little girl was too busy distracting him with stories about her day and all the exciting things she did

[cloudy-rainn]

greetings and salutations~

hope you’ve been well! id like to request a matchup for bsd, jjk, and tokyorev pleasee

im a 20 year old, 5’3 or 5’4 (one of those two..) pinay. i have short black hair with some bits of dark brown at the ends from when i bleached it before and an undercut at the back. i have big black almond eyes with round glasses and am kinda light to med skinned. im relatively lightweight but still have some tone cuz sis lost sum muscle 😭

personality and etc:

MBTI: INTJ

heterosexual/genderfluid (she/her is my go-to default)/asexual

(im not a firm believer in zodiac since i get along with everyone anyway but-)

western zodiac sign: sagittarius

moon: sagittarius :>

rising: libra

eastern zodiac sign: dragon

enneagram: 8w9

(im sure this explains most of my personality but ill jus put into detail here if ya wanna know)

my core personality:

more on the chill and vibey side. i express more ambivert energy. ive been described as patient, kind, realistic, understanding, quiet, straightforward, open, honest, tsundere¿, creative… and wacky?? lmaO i got sum crackhead energy too so gotta love that. i love to take care of those i cherish deeply, im BIG strict on mental health, im kinda quiet and reserved first impression, zero tolerance for toxicity, nocturnal (night owl over here ;-;), hard worker, a bit more tomboyish but womanly if ya know ya know 💅🏼i still embrace my childish antics :3 so i tend to wander and get distracted sometimes and stare off into space o-o, rather sweet and gentle with things i find precious and am naturally kind/affectionate to those i endear, im sometimes clumsy and hurt myself. i was one of those kids that sees a lizard and yells “LIZARD” running after it. im also giddy and stupidly silly :3 like i would laugh at something i found funny even after it has passed LOL. im a teaser :> i love to be playful with people. it’s basically a hobby at this point. like i tend to laugh at my own jokes lmaO im always in for a good time

however, when it gets serious, i can be aggressive. i can b a hypocrite sometimes.. i dont always take care of myself when im super focused, tend to heavily isolate when in the deep end but quite forgiving and understanding nevertheless. im quite comfortable with my dark side and can handle myself well but i require a lot of patience and determination. im quite empathetic with people as i pick up energies in a room. i will scold you if you’re not taking care of yourself and will tell you straight up what i think. if it’s serious time, im respectful and polite. but also im naturally curious and can be keen to seeing things that people dont usually pick up on

Love Language:

physical touch and quality time. so - yes ( ͡≖ ‿ ͡≖) - im a big time cuddle bear for sfw and a bit more dom in the not 🤭. but i get flustered with small affectionate gestures or doting behavior. i jus get so MMMM O////O. im not inclined to superficiality because bonding is what matters most to me

Etc:

my favorite color is pumpkin orange

Likes:

acai bowls, jelly beans :3, animals, criminology/forensics, video games, collecting things, formal events (tho i favor more of a humble living than luxury), baking and artsy stuff (sewing, crocheting, drawing, occasional designing, etc), performing arts stuff (dance, music), fashion: streetwear/comfy style and sometimes more bold wear 👀

Dislikes:

disrespect, overly sensitive controlling and exclusive people, aggressive confrontation, unreliable people, avocado, sausage, out of tune singers, unsatisfying things, unreasonably-hard-to-open products 🤨

sorry for the essay hope it wasnt too much!

hsjdjdkhaha, it’s okay, the more the better :)

also hello fellow intj ��✊

i match you with RAMPO EDOGAWA!

- the agency is tired of the both of you (even though you don’t work there). y’all basically are like twins.

- you are the one that approaches him first. you were just being a normal civilian until you heard rather suspicious noises. you follow the sound and you see rampo. vending machine. his hand was stuck inside the vending machine and he didn’t know what to do. fortunately for him, you quickly helped him while also secretly telling him how to scam the machine.

-and that’s when he knew you were the one. after that encounter he would definitely give you his number and would frequently text you, asking you the most random and weirdest questions.

- he’ll ask you to join during his investigations. very chaotic i say. you two would definitely fool around for a while but will always get the job done.

- you would ask him out first. he’s definitely the type to playfully flirt but when it comes to confessing how he feels, it’s not an easy task for him.

- he would take you to a serene & quiet place for a date. he feels more comfortable and open when it’s only the two of you. he’ll definitely ask a lot of questions because he wants to get to know you better.

- you’re the only person he shares his snacks with.

- a lot of playful fighting. sometimes when he’s being sneaky he’ll steal a kiss or two, to throw you off guard.

- maNS loves giving back hugs. also he constantly kisses the back of your hands and forehead.

i match you with GOJO SATORU!

- yes y’all are the entp x intj troupe. 🤡

- also please get this man a leash. he is wild.

- you two knew each other from high school days. you used to hang out with him and getou. then everything took a terrible turn and you just lost contact with him.

- then, one day out of the blue as you were walking home with your weekly supply of jellybeans a tall figure stands in front of you. " do you believe in love at first sight or should i walk by again?"

- it definitely took you a couple of seconds to register that annoying voice. you looked him straight in the eye and walked away. of course mr. man whore here followed you, pestering you with millions of questions. you getting annoyed decided to have a catch up with each other at the cafe.

- you noticed how he hasn't changed one bit, still the same annoying brat from before. you missed this.

- you two start to hang out more often. he usually drops by your place, bringing sweets and pastries (when he is supposed to be helping the first years) for the both of you.

- when he asked you out the first time, you turned him down. you weren't exactly sure about your feelings but after some time you did come around and BOOM- y'all were one weird ass couple.

- the most random date night. sometimes this man will BRING you to help him during an investigation and call it a date <3

- megumi can't comprehend what you find appealing about him.

- okay okay, enough gojo slander now but i now he DEFINITELY spoils you. you want it, he buys it.

- mans gets jealous if you spend more time with the first years than him.

[bosspigeon]

Dara prompts! I love Dara. Dara being badass and protecting the MC?

Tiziri has never been struck with a mace. He counts himself lucky such is the case, and can only hope he should never have to know how it feels, especially seeing, hearing, the way the would-be assassin's armor dents under Dara's mighty blow. Surely, their ribs are cracked, if not outright broken.

He watches them crumble with a strange sort of calm fascination, clutching their middle and moaning pitifully as they roll about on the ground. They are one of several that have been felled in much the same way, the last and presumably the leader.

He wants to ask Dara if they will die, if he needs to do something, but Dara is... Oh.

Dara is looking right at him with a face like thunder, and suddenly every thought in the Crown's head comes screeching to a halt.

The general is much taller than Tiziri, and so dropping to a knee before him puts him only slightly lower than eye level. There is an instinctive part of him that wants to complain, for a moment believing Dara is going to do something silly, like prostrate himself before his Imperial Majesty in penance for "allowing" such a thing to happen, but instead, his gauntlets cup Tiziri's face, stiff and cool, and he gently, but firmly, bobbles the Crown's head with a wordless growl of frustration.

"When I tell you to run," he says sternly, dark eyes boring into Tiziri's with an intensity that leaves him breathless, "You need to listen."

Tiziri finally regains enough of his composure to furrow his brows and stubbornly set his jaw. He can feel the twitch of muscle flexing against Dara's gauntlet. "I am not a coward, and I won't leave you behind," he says sharply, grasping at Dara's wrists.

"It is not about bravery," Dara scolds him. "It is about self-preservation. It is about keeping yourself safe."

"Where else am I safer than by your side?" Tiziri insists, frowning stubbornly.

The general's helmet was knocked off in the skirmish, and so there is nothing to hide the ruddy flush that blooms on his high, sharp cheekbones. "I— That's not— You—" He tries to pull his hands away, but Tiziri holds on tightly to his wrists. He could break the grasp easily, they both know well that he could, but he doesn't. His hands remain on Tiziri's face, cupping his cheeks with care. "You are infuriating."

Tiziri can't help but be a bit shocked by such honest exasperation. Dara is always respectful, always careful with the way he behaves toward the Crown, ever patient and ever conscious of his manners and propriety. Tiziri smiles. "I have been called worse," he tries to tease, but it comes out softer than he intends.

The way Dara says it makes it sound more of an endearment than anything, really. He is only infuriating because Dara was scared for him. As his general, yes, sworn to protect the Crown with his life, but also as someone who cares. Someone who wishes for Tiziri's continued existence not for the political stability or for honor, but for the Crown himself.

It is nice to be reminded that he is cared for as an individual person rather than a figurehead. Tiziri turns his head and brushes his mouth against the general's armored palm, murmuring a soft "Thank you, Dara," against the cool metal.

Dara's face reddens further, but his sharp, dark eyes soften. "Of course... my Crown," he says, and while Tiziri has never been overly fond of the weight of his title, and he is not sure he ever will be, there is something about the way Dara says it that sits heavily in his chest.

He is not just any Crown to Dara. He is Dara's Crown.

Behind them, there is a weak groan of pain, and a confused jumble of syllables come tumbling from Dara's mouth in lieu of words. This time, when he pulls away, Tiziri lets him go, and the general leaps to his feet with surprising swiftness under all that heavy gilded armor. "I will handle the assassins," he says, his voice a bit too loud and quite strained as he whirls around to do just that.

Tiziri ducks his head and hides his own flush beneath his wild curls, fists twisting in his heavy skirts and biting his lip to stifle a smile.

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 1

Peter Parker x reader

A/N: This is some type of wish fulfillment writing for me because I like to imagine becoming a hot and badass superhero when I fall asleep and I thought other people may be entertained as well :) If you enjoy it, like or reblog to share!

REMINDER: in this story, the reader gains superpowers and I do describe the appearance of her body. i hope you know every body is a superhero body and weight does not impact your beauty at all-i just needed to show how drastic the changes were!

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, attempted kidnapping, guns/violence

The sun that came beaming through your window brightly as you opened the blinds in your room immediately brought a small smile to your face. Summer had always been your favorite season. As smart as you were, a three month break from Midtown has never sounded better. Junior year had not been easy for you.

Small goosebumps appear on your arms as you shiver when the memory of that night crosses your mind.

***

You’d been walking home after your first day of school, distracted as images of the day flicker through your mind. The first day was always exciting, new classes and people. Probably why you were too distracted to notice the man creeping up behind you until he wrapped his hands around your backpack and yanked it off of your back, making you let out a yelp of surprise.

Or, he’d tried to. Unfortunately, this dumb ass criminal didn’t know how backpack straps work and when he tugged, the straps caught around your arms and yanked you off your feet, slamming your body into your attacker with a groan.

Panic immediately clouded your mind. You’d never been mugged before. You try desperately to remember anything from the self defense class you’d taken in seventh grade. The attacker seemed surprised that your bag hadn’t slid off your body and this gave you the opportunity to scream. “Help!” You shrieked. “Somebody!” It was the middle of the day in New York and yet, the street you were walking was dead empty.

“Shut the fuck up.” The man growled in your ear and you suddenly became aware of his death grip on your arm. Before you could contemplate punching him in the face or kneeing his dick, a sharp poke on your arm made you whip your head, just in time to see a needle full of glowing blue liquid being injected into your arm by the man. He hadn’t wanted your backpack at all.

The shock you felt as you watched the unfamiliar substance enter your body was amplified at the burning sensation quickly spreading from the injection site to your whole upper arm. The man lets out a harsh laugh, and you finally turn to see his face. He did not look like a homeless man. Or a thief. The sight of his groomed beard and expensive jacket made you feel like you’d been plunged in ice. What the hell was happening?

“What did you do to me?” The sound of your voice is much stronger than you expect it to be, and it helps to ease a couple of the butterflies going mental inside your stomach. At least you didn’t sound terrified. He just lets out a low laugh and begins to drag you by your backpack towards a car parked on the opposite side of the road you hadn’t noticed until now.

“You’re coming with me.”

The burning had spread to your entire left arm and was now taking over your left shoulder. If you didn’t have adrenaline coursing through your veins due to your current situation, you would’ve been doubled over with pain. You struggle against the man’s hold on your backpack as he drags you closer to the large black SUV.

Hell no. I am not getting kidnapped today. You force yourself to calm enough to quickly think of a plan. Any plan. When the man reaches the car despite your struggling, a disgusting sneer on his face, he lets go of his grip on your arm to reach for the handle, and you take your chance to head-butt him as hard as you possibly can-letting your arms slide out of the backpack as you do.

“Ow! Get back here you little bitch!” But it’s too late. In the two seconds when the man doubles over to clutch at his head, you’d snatched your backpack from the ground where he’d let it fall and sprinted down the street. You try to tell yourself that the unbearable burning sensation now settling into your chest is from running, not from whatever the fuck he’d injected you with.

***

A loud beep, beep from the clock on your bedside table snaps you out of reminiscing on your near death experience and a large smile grows on your face. Finally it was 5 p.m, the time when your mom usually went over to her boyfriend’s apartment across town. Every night, like clockwork, since you were 13.

It used to bother you, but now the silence gives you the opportunity to do what you needed to do alone. You get up and move towards your closet as you let your mind slip into your memories again as you reminisce on the events after the attack.

***

You’d run home like hell and had never been so grateful to find that your mom had left early. Within ten minutes, the burning had spread and you were left to writhe around in pain on your bed for hours. There was no let up, no break. You knew you were going to die.

Whatever the man had injected in you was breaking apart every muscle, every atom in your body so slowly that you could feel it. Eventually, your pained screams became quieter as exhaustion began to take over. This is it. I’m really going to die. My mom is going to come home and find me like this-

Before you could finish your thought, a harsh gasp involuntarily left your mouth and you launch forward to sit up. Okay, maybe I’m not going to die. You thought as the pain suddenly ceases. You slowly bring your hands up to stare at them, scared that the pain will return. Just as you’re about to let out a breath of relief, it hits you again.

And it’s so much worse. The burning sensation shoots through your body, and every broken muscle and molecule felt as though it was being bound together again. The minutes bleed together as exhaustion and pain take over your body.

***

Looking back, you still have no idea what was in the injection. All you know is what happened because of it.

***

Beep, beep.

Beep, beep.

BEEP, BEEP.

The incessant beeping of your stupid alarm wakes you from quite possibly the weirdest dream you’ve ever had. You’ve never had pain in a dream feel so vivid before, and the memory alone draws your body inwards, hugging your arms in for comfort.

Your arms. Hold on.

They didn’t feel like this last night. You glance down at your skin, the shadow of your blanket making it hard to see. You rip the covers off and storm over to your full length mirror-and all you can do is let out a gasp. I’m going crazy.

With shaking hands, you grab your phone and unlock it, scrolling until you find a mirror selfie you had taken at the pool over summer, just two weeks ago. You glance at the photo, then back up at the mirror. Then at the photo, then the mirror. Photo, mirror, photo.

A shocked laugh rips through your lips as you stare at the photo of yourself. Smooth skin and curves. A couple extra pounds of baby fat you had yet to lose, a spot or three of acne on your forehead. You weren’t an extraordinarily insecure person, but you were a teenage girl and a couple of those things had bugged you but-

Your eyes flicker up to the mirror. You run your hands along your arms. You used to describe them as flabby, but you can feel and see the toned, tight skin. You move your eyes to your boobs. Were they bigger? They definitely looked bigger.

Any “baby fat” you carried had seemingly disappeared overnight. You slowly lift your shirt and let your jaw drop, running your hands over your small waist, not missing the muscle you can feel under your skin. Your skin was perfectly clear and your hair and lashes both seemed longer and healthier.

When you were younger and more naive, you’d hoped puberty would involve waking up one morning looking like a Victoria’s Secret model. But that was stupid. Things like that don’t happen, right?

Slowly, the events of yesterday began to register in your mind. The attack, the injection, the pain. A million questions flooded your mind. The most prominent being what the actual fuck??

“Y/n? You almost ready to leave for school?” Your mom’s voice rings out into your silent room as she knocks on your bedroom door.

“Yeah, Mom! Just a couple minutes.” You call out nervously, waiting until you hear her footsteps walk away from your door. You let out a curse as you race into the bathroom, the harsh lighting illuminating even more changes to your face.

Your lips were bigger, your eyes more open, and your cheekbones and jaw more defined. Fuck. If you weren’t so worried about anyone noticing your overnight transformation, you would’ve taken more time to think about the positives of this situation.

You were always shy and quiet at school, choosing a small group of people to hang around and mostly focusing on your classes. But every teenage girl dreams of being beautiful, and now you finally were. You pull your hair up to brush your teeth and wash your face faster than you ever have before, electing to ignore the fact that you should have a nasty bruise from your head-butt yesterday.

You choose to skip makeup completely, knowing it would draw more attention to your new face. You took one last look at your body in the mirror before pulling on the baggiest sweats you owned and a loose hoodie, hoping they would mask your new curves.

You had no idea how you were supposed to hide this all year.

***

You smiled as you remember how silly you’d acted the next day. You were overly paranoid, covering your face with your hoodie as much as you could and choosing to sit alone in the library rather than at your usual table. No one questioned you, not once.

You had felt a pang of loneliness at first, knowing that no one at your school even cared enough to notice the obvious change had hurt just a bit, but it made dealing with the powers easier.

***

You’d first noticed it on the walk to school. It was barely September and the summer sun was still coming down on the city. This paired with your heavy layers of clothing and the long walk to school would normally leave you slightly breathless. As you arrived at the school feeling more energized and alive than ever, you noticed you’d gotten there in a fourth of your normal time without even trying.

You next noticed it in gym, when the daily pushups the teachers forced you all to do every year were suddenly easy. Effortless. As soon as the final bell rang, you ran home within minutes without feeling winded at all and winced as you threw your door open, nearly ripping it off it’s hinges.

Something else was definitely going on. Your appearance was not the only thing that seemed to go through an upgrade. You said a quick hello to your mom before running up to your room.

For the first time since you woke up that morning, you relaxed once your door was closed and locked. Your shoulders release as you sink to your bed, dropping your head into your hands. You try to recall anything you’ve read about people being totally changed after some sort of injection.

Your heart sinks. Captain America jumps to mind. The Winter Soldier, Wanda Maximoff and her dead brother. They’d all been injected.

You bite your lip and glance at a book sitting on your bedside table. You straighten up and thrust your hands towards the book, trying to make it move. Unsurprisingly, nothing happens. You close your eyes and breath out a small breath of relief. Ok so I’m beautiful now and have great endurance, at least I’m not a superhero. You let yourself relax slightly, your eyes still closed. Now you feel dumb for throwing your hands around like some kind of knock off Scarlet Witch.

When you open your eyes, your blood runs cold. The book is floating in front of you, a blue glow surrounding it. Slowly, you raise your, now shaking, hands again towards the book until they flash with the same blue and it launches towards you, the force of it making you rock back as you catch it in your hands.

Well. Fuck.

***

After that, you were thankful that no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. You bite down a smile as you remember the first few months after, thinking about how much you’d changed since then.

***

You spent nearly every night for weeks studying every superhero fight video you could find on youtube and practicing the moves alone in your empty house, over and over.

It didn’t take much for you to perfect them as your new body seemed to be built for this kind of shit. Black Widow was your favorite to watch, and you made sure to spend extra time working through her signature moves, letting the flips, kicks, and punches become muscle memory.

You spent time practicing your real powers as well, though those seemed to come to you naturally. After that first delay with the book, it had almost felt like second nature to lift up the heaviest objects in your house with just a wave of the hand, but still, you practiced. Over and over and over. You quickly learned you could move people as well, namely yourself. Flying over New York in the middle of the night was something that would always leave you breathless.

Once winter settled over New York, you decided you were finally ready to try and use your abilities for good. You had near perfect control over your “magic” and you were pretty sure you’d spent more hours in the past month punching the air than sleeping.

You spent all day Sunday bent over the dusty sewing machine you dug out of a shelf in your kitchen closet. The trip to Joann’s reminded you of your mother teaching a younger you how to sew, though you two never bought yards of spandex to make a skin tight suit.

It had taken a couple minutes for you to remember how to use the machine, but you were extremely proud of the final product. You’d made a simple skin tight black suit with a zipper up the front and a mask to cover most of your face, but you figured no one could recognize you by just your mouth.

Once you finished the last hem on your face mask, you took the suit and the mask and hid them in your closet next to a pair of black combat boots. You put the dusty machine away and finally made your way into your bathroom, glancing nervously at the box on the counter.

Although you had exactly zero friends at Midtown, you had grown up with some of these kids and you couldn’t risk one of them recognizing your hair color if they saw you in your superhero suit and the box advertising temporary spray on hair color seemed to be the perfect solution.

You take the small can out of the box and spray blonde-ish highlights into your hair and brush it through until your long hair is shades lighter than your natural color and you’re happy with the results.

Your hands shook as you pulled on your suit, then your mask, and finally, the black boots. You move to your mirror and nervously give yourself a glance, only to be pleasantly surprised. You really do look like a superhero, even more so when you will your hands to glow blue with your powers.

***

That night, you learned that you had severely underestimated yourself. You thought memories of your own attack would flash before your eyes every time you knocked down a criminal, but it didn’t.

Every time you would wrap your thighs around someone’s neck to drag them to the ground you felt strong and every time the person you just saved would begin to thank you aggressively, you knew you made the right decision to help people.

You kept your guard, and your hood, up during the school days but your months of training and now your late night rescues, had caused a spike in your confidence. After a particularly hard 18 vs. 1 fight in which your zipper had gotten yanked down a bit, you just left it. It looked better like that anyway.

You wished you had someone to show the new you. You used to be so unsure of yourself, and now because of a seemingly random attack, you had the ability to help people. It definitely felt good to be doing something good.

Unfortunately, your endeavors started to become sensationalized. New York was obsessed with superheroes, you knew this. But you never thought people would start paying attention to you.

You should’ve known better. A girl with enhanced curves in a skin tight suit, flying around the city with glowing blue hands and fighting crime with her front zipper pulled down, and you thought you could remain invisible in the media too?

Luckily for you, the spotlight was cast upon another new superhero around the same time-a Spiderman. Once he entered the superhero scene just weeks after yourself, you noticed the articles you’d previously seen sexualizing you and your costume turned into articles about the two of you instead. If only those reporters knew you were 17.

You were thankful for him even though you’d never met him, and your two names “Spiderman and Sapphire” were often used in the same headlines to discuss you two newcomers.

At first you hated the nickname the media gave you simply because of the increased attention, but you learned to love it. It was nice to see people appreciating what you were doing, even though every camera that was ever pointed your way made you anxious to protect your identity.

Ever since your first winter night spent fighting crime, you’d quickly fallen into a pattern. School with your eyes glued to your desk the whole time, sweats and hoodies concealing your body, then homework until your mom leaves, then go out and help your city.

Your fighting has improved to the point that you almost prefer hand to hand combat rather than using your powers. On especially slow nights, you’ve let yourself drag out a fight with some bank robbers or kidnappers just to entertain yourself.

It was your escape. In your suit, with your face covered and your hair thick with the lightening spray, was the only time you felt like yourself. Really yourself.

But you had a plan to change that. As easy as it had been to lay low throughout the last year at school, you’d had enough. You wanted more. So you had a plan. A new body and face overnight is impossible, but over three months? Totally plausible.

You were excited for three months with nothing to do but go out as Sapphire, and you knew these few months were going to be the calm before the storm if you really decided to go back to Midtown as the new you.

God, enough with the reminiscing. You told yourself, but you do allow yourself to feel pride at how much you’d matured from your first day of school this year to your last as you tug on your familiar suit and mask.

***

You glance down at the buildings beneath you, eyes silently scanning every dark alley and corner for trouble. Your hands glow blue as you fly yourself gracefully through the sky. Suddenly, loud sirens and screams sound from beneath you and you look down to see 8 large men climbing into a bank as they smashed the windows.

You quickly fly yourself down and through the hole behind the men as they point guns towards the only two people in the bank, a janitor and a man you assume is the manager. “Give us the fucking money.” One of the men growls and the others laugh menacingly at their friend’s threat.

The manager notices you standing behind the men and his eyes widen, causing the men to start to turn towards you. You grab the gun out of one of their hands using your powers and smirk at the oh, shit look on their faces. Before you can make a move to knock the man nearest you off his feet, a web snaps through the broken window and snatches the gun from his hands before you can blink.

Spiderman comes swinging through the opening, landing gracefully. “What’s going on here, fellas?” He asks, and you can’t help but smirk at the sound of his voice. The two of you seemed to live similar lives, and yet this was your first time meeting him.

The white eyes of his mask flicker from the men, frozen with fear, towards you, and his eyes grow with recognition and maybe shock? Hard to tell with the mask. He opens his mouth to say something else, but one of the men still holding guns raises it and fires towards Spiderman without a second of hesitation.

You raise your hand quickly, stopping the bullet in mid-air and everyone around you stares at the bullet suspended in mid-air, your glowing blue hand outstretched, almost as if you were catching it. Spiderman’s eyes widen even more. “Holy shit.”

You smile to yourself and clench your hand into a fist, letting the bullet crumble to the ground in dust. “Nice try.” You say to the man. “But you’re getting on my nerves.” You turn towards the 8 men in front of you, 5 still holding guns. You move your hand to face the men, and with a sweeping motion, the 5 guns are yanked from their hands to suspend far above their heads, where they couldn’t reach.

You can’t help a small laugh as one of the men tries to jump up and grab it. You turn towards Spiderman who’s standing there with his mouth wide open. “Sorry if I stole your moment.” You say genuinely. You had no doubt that he could’ve taken care of this himself, but you had gotten here first.

“Are you kidding?” He nearly squeaked. “That was amazing, oh my god! I can’t believe we haven’t met until now.” Your cheeks blaze slightly under your mask from his praise, you’ve never had a superhero compliment you before. You adjust your focus back to the men quickly, who seem to be thinking of a way to run.

Your eyes meet Spidey’s again. “You wanna web ‘em up?” He nods excitedly, his eyes finally breaking from yours as he jumps into action. As impressed as he was by you, you couldn’t help but watch in awe as he swings around the room and with a thwick, he webs all of the men together in a cocoon, hanging upside down from the chandelier of the bank ceiling.

He swings himself one last time to land next to you again. “Cool.” You say before you can even realize your mouth is open. “I mean, you’re not too bad yourself.” He bows his head a bit, seeming shy even though it was a half-compliment to cover up your embarrassment.

“Sorry to bust in on your fight,” He says, glancing around the room towards the two terrified employees staring at the two of you in shock. “Not a lot happening tonight, and I didn’t know you were here.”

“Ugh, I know.” You agree. “Not to complain about less crime, but our jobs have been a little bit too easy this past week.” His mask crinkles as he smiles.

“We could...work together sometime if you wanted too, of course.” He says nervously, nearly stuttering on his words. “It’s just, you’re really good and you seem really cool and I-”

You interrupt his word vomit. “Of course I want to! I’ve been wondering when we would meet.” His eyes move from staring at the eye holes in your mask down to your lips when you smile. “How’s tomorrow?”

“How’s right now?” You don’t think your smile can get wider. “One sec.” He holds up a finger before quickly running over to the two bank workers, who thank you both over and over and then they both hugged him. You were wrong, your smile grows and remains goofy and big as he runs back over to you. “Let’s go.”

That night you found out that your view of the city is 100 times better when you can also see a red and blue suit swinging from building to building out of the corner of your eye.

[beetlemancy]

That Twitter drama with Brian is weird, cause on the one hand I get why people are upset. It just looks like someone with a lot of followers being mean to someone who's a lot smaller because they said something kind of dickish. On the other hand I get where Brian is coming from in regards to responding, though the QT probably wasn't a good idea.

Okay so this is a bit complicated because its also tied up into the 'C2 is ending' drama which I also have a lot of Thoughts about so I will try my best here but I might miss a lot of points that I'm thinking of but just won't type fast enough for my brain lol

Brian's mentions have always been a shitshow. The simple fact that someone was being a dick to him is not, I presume, the main issue with that tweet he RT'd first. I personally think it was because it specifically accused him of something he did not do. Brian left Twitter before because of similar accusatory dogpiles so I imagine that's really the crux of the issue - or at least it would be for me if I were him. I want to stress that this is just my own POV though and none of us really know a damn thing about someone else lol

So, firstly, I do not ascribe to the worldview that people with more followers have to just take whatever is given to them if its given by someone with less followers. I think categorizing people based on follower count is, frankly, heinous and a step backwards for society. I do believe that in real life there are power imbalances, but Twitter is an app on your phone. You can hit the off button. You can also be personally responsible for what you put out on the internet. I don't know when that lesson missed some people.

Secondly, he's now being accused of name-searching himself in order to find the tweet in the first place, but this is also false. The person did actually QRT him, which is essentially a tag according to Twitter because it puts that tweet directly onto your timeline. They may not have realized that, but its not hard to then just be like 'whoops, didn't know you'd see this.' (which, honestly, I'm not a fan of either because I think its silly that so many people expect to be able to say whatever the fuck they want without consequence simply because they didn't tag someone directly. like, you still fuckin' typed it)

Thirdly, yes things got quite heated after that and things were said by a lot of people. There's a thread of screenshots of Brian's going around claiming that he should be canceled because of the content. I understand why some people were massively offended by the Mom joke tweet (the other tweets I legitimately don't get how they could be angry about tbh tho) - and, frankly, I'm not overly fond of that kind of humor as well. It makes perfect sense that people who were otherwise not paying attention to see that tweet and be shocked and offended by it. This does not excuse it at all, but it IS very out of context. People in that thread were being ridiculously gross to both him and each other (for instance I find it interesting that people are really angry about a sexual joke about someone's mother but not about a homophobic sexual insult that one of the 'fans' said but that IS Twitter for you)

Brian's way of handling the internet mudpile is not for everyone, but he has always been this way and done things this way. So many of the people who are Big Time Angry at him now have previously been supportive of him calling out Reddit in particular. I am TIRED of people literally running headfirst into traffic and then claiming they were hit by a car. Like, no. YOU made that choice. YOU take responsibility for it. God damn.

But all of this STARTED because the -fans- were the ones being absolute assholes to the CR cast about C2 ending. People are pre-mad about a thing that hasn't happened yet and are letting it dictate how they react to literally everything. I don't understand it! I get being sad about things ending but sooooo many people on Twitter and Reddit especially are acting like they're the second coming of Anticapitalist Christ because they can type up several dozen threads about how CR is Bad because ... their DnD campaign is ending eventually???

There are some people who think I'M being parasocial because I think its bullshit to act this way towards real human people, but they're the ones who are living and breathing sheer anger and hostility because a game is ending.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

i have only one wish for the egg vines arc, and that is i do not want tommy to take it over, like no hate to him but i would really like if the focus stayed on the badlands+ puffy, its a really interesting plotline and im happy that its gunna be center stage and get the attention it deserves but i dont want tommy to take it over and move the attention away from the badlands +puffy.

I’m hoping that this is more of a temporary thing or like, his involvement is just as a side character.

This was good for getting new people to actually pay attention to the plotline though, because if Tommy never once acknowledged the vines then everyone would continue thinking that it was an irrelevant side plot (which is a bit unfortunate)

The Egg plot’s been kind of overlooked or seen as silly or unimportant the past months, but Bad’s really worked hard on it and he’s really enthusiastic about what he’s been up to :( A lot of the time it was just that “dumb, wacky side plot” that could be ignored, I guess. The plot’s weird, must not be canon to the main storyline, right?

Bad’s done so much work over the past months to develop the exposition of the Vines, to get other people who aren’t usually involved in the “main” plot like Eret and Puffy involved in this one. 

I dunno. I don’t want to sound overly bitter or petty (I hope I don’t come off that way)

Like, I get it. The Egg lore streams happen at weird times and people obviously don’t need to keep up with every single plot if they don’t want to. That’s completely fine! That’s not what I’m bothered by at all!

I’m instead bothered by the idea that the Egg plot wasn’t worth taking seriously as its own thing until it became relevant to Tommy. 

I mostly just wish it didn’t take Tommy streaming a plotline in order for it to be seen as an actual, valid thing, y’know? To be considered canon? 

Because if we as a fanbase want to have plotlines where Tommy doesn’t have to be the main protagonist all the time, we also gotta be able to take plot lines seriously without him in them too.

Arcs where Tommy isn’t the main character have happened before. He hasn’t been the main character 100% of the time. 

It got a lot better in this regard with Season Two. Ranboo’s character arc’s been amazing, the season started off with a great plotline around Fundy’s character, Quackity’s fight with Dream and the Dream Team split, the development of the Blood Vines plot, etc. etc. A lot more happened in Season Two than just the Exile Arc.

That was one of the reasons why I was always a little iffy on critiques of Season Two’s writing saying there was too much going on. Like, those are valid critiques, it was very chaotic, but changing Season Two’s writing to be more like Season One’s would’ve meant more cohesion at the cost of Tommy being the only plot going on, and I honestly just prefer the chaos if more people get to be involved, y’know? That’s just my cup of tea.

I dunno. 

Sorry for doing this whole rant thing, I know it probably sounds super salty (though I hope it didn’t come off that way, or like I’m being whiny)

 Just wanted to get some thoughts out, I guess! I’ve got optimism that Season Three will continue on the path of Season Two with everyone continuing to handle their own characters’ arcs and just having them intersect more, which would be amazing.

I am happy that Tommy and Tubbo are involved, especially if it means Tubbo and Fundy bringing the Dreamon Hunters back in collaboration with Badboyhalo.

Bad’s spent over a month carefully cultivating and planning out this plotline. It’s worth paying attention to and appreciating how much work he’s put into it with the rest of the Badlands! 

(And as always, everyone is welcome to disagree! This is just about my personal taste)

[twin-books]

So I Finally Watched SentiBubbler

I would like to say the only reason I watched SentiBubbler is I was extremely out of the loop when people would complain about the whole Chat Noir thing and I had no business talking about it if I didn’t see it. I would also like to add that as of now I have only seen the episodes Truth, Lies, Furious Fu (or Monster Fu or whatever), and SentiBubbler of season 4. I have gotten bits and pieces from the fandom of the basics like the big thing with Alya and the hinting at Chat Noir’s sudden push to the side and so forth. That’s it. So I may still be lacking context. But I have to be honest. I am on no side of this argument and on both sides. Let me explain. I found it a bit childish the way Chat spoke and acted after hearing what Rena had to say. Not that I condemn him for it. Sometimes we just feel like being a little childish especially when we have been hurt over and over again. Being childish just means being immature (and/or being overly silly) and the reaction, I found, was immature but understandable. I can’t figure out why this even needs to be an argument. I don’t get why this even needs to be a big deal.  Let me speak from my POV as someone who can similarly react to Chat Noir when bottling things up. (Grant it, I never really destroyed anything besides maybe tearing some paper and throwing things while considering if they were light or if they would land on a flat surface and not hurt anything or anyone). It’s childish to me.  I may have perfectly valid reasons for being upset over tiny things that in the end, won’t matter. I would like to clarify half the time I have no idea I’m that upset instead someone tells me. Or if I do realize it I don’t know why I’m upset. People have to provide me reasons as to why I might be upset because I can’t figure it out because I say, “I just don’t know what happened. I don’t feel that stressed. I like what I’m doing. I don’t feel anxious. I just got angry out of no where. I don’t understand.” But regardless whether I’m suffering or not that doesn’t make what I do/did okay. It doesn’t mean it’s a mature reaction. It doesn’t mean I am in the right. Whether I was hurt or not. However, I also recognize (thanks to friendly help which Adrien unfortunately does not have) that what I’m feeling may be just as silly as I think it is but that doesn’t matter because I’m feeling it and I’m having those reactions. Right now they are a big deal even if I think they shouldn’t be. And what I need to do is figure out why. Why is it such a big deal now? And then... I need to take care of myself and find ways to handle myself appropriately when I get that way or nip it in the butt as soon as I recognize it’s coming. I recognize that I have people to tell me what I’m doing isn’t okay and to help me through the emotions that led to it so I don’t make the mistake again. Adrien doesn’t have that. Adrien is responsible for recognizing when he does these things and finding someone to talk to but if he doesn’t know how and no one bothers to help him... Well then... It isn’t entirely his fault, is it?

No, the chimney didn’t deserve it but neither did Chat. Chat is responsible for his own impulsive actions but that doesn’t mean he’s an awful human being every time he has a negative reaction. It doesn’t mean that what he feels isn’t there and that it doesn’t matter. Because it does matter. It’s a big deal to him. And he needs someone to help him figure out why so another chimney doesn’t have to take the fall. 

Chat needs help recognizing he can’t deal with what he’s feeling on his own and he shouldn’t have to. It’s not something that will just sort itself out on its own. That’s not how emotions or trauma works. This was basically a very longwinded way of saying; Chat has immature reactions to things that may seem silly to some others but is a big deal to him. He needs help figuring it out and taking control. He needs help recognizing when he gets that way and how to handle it. Basically, I don’t get why this is even an argument. He’s a child that will make some brash choices because he’s suffering and fails to properly take care of it because he doesn’t know how and no one is there to help him out. He’s not in the right and that’s okay. He doesn’t have to be good all the time. It’s absolutely silly to have to defend Adrien’s actions as if he can’t just make a mistake and be extremely hurt. It’s silly to condemn him as if his negative reactions don’t have real feelings behind them that need to be approached. I think what’s more childish is the need to make this such a big deal. I don’t care who started it. Whether it was Adrien salters or Adrien stans or both or neither. People are allowed to think Adrien is in the wrong. They may not be entirely right but they aren’t entirely wrong. People are allowed to think Adrien is in the right. They may not be entirely right but they aren’t entirely wrong. Chill. Take a breath. Let people feel what they want about a character and don’t let it get to you. In the end no one’s opinion is better than the other and I see valid reasons on both sides I just think the fact it turned into an argument is silly with childish pokes at each other back and forth. You’re human. I’m human. Adrien’s fictional. He doesn’t need to be burned at the stake or defended. Just enjoy his character the way you want. : )

[goth-surana]

The People Will Talk

Title: The People Will Talk

Pairing: Anders/Male Hawke

Main Tags: Secret relationship, banter

Summary: All of the main companions react to Hawke's new relationship, some before Hawke has even announced it. By the way, why hasn't he?

I participated in the 2021 Handers Gift Exchange run by @handers-time, here is my gift for @samsnak who wanted the companions commenting on Anders and Hawke’s relationship. I hope you enjoy!

Read on Ao3 or read under the cut

---- Part 1----

Merrill was more observant than people gave her credit for. Sure, she missed a lot of innuendos but that was just because they were different from the Dalish! She could tell a dirty Dalish joke with the best of them, but none of the others would get it.

Anyway, that was beside the point. The point was that Merrill seemed to be the only one of their companions who noticed that Hawke and Anders were a couple now. A very cute couple too, if you asked Merrill.

Anders was so much happier now, he looked less like a man holding up the weight of the world. He smiled more often, and his jokes didn’t have the same undercurrent of sadness.

Hawke was a tactile person, but he just could not keep his hands off of Anders. Not in a dirty way! Or, well, probably some times in a dirty way…

He took every opportunity to brush up against Anders, to put a hand on his shoulder, to give him a friendly hug. It was a wonder Hawke was fooling people at all with how obvious he was being.

That brought Merrill to the confusing part - they were keeping it a secret. Why? Why keep something so joyous a secret?

The group was off to Sundermount for some mercenary job Hawke took. Even with his mansion he still needed to pay for things, and he also couldn’t help but say yes whenever Kirkwall inevitably needed his aid.

Right now the group was clearing out a cave of spiders. Hawke had brought Anders, Merrill, and Fenris. A bit of a contentious group, but they were making it work. Hawke’s witty remarks had a way of defusing most situations.

“Even the spider guts on my clothes are covered in spider guts,” Hawke complained. “This cave had better have something of value in it…”

Soon enough they did find some locked chests, which Hawke went right to attempting to open. He fiddled with the lock a bit, but it wasn’t working.

“You know,” Anders offered, “I could just set fire to the thing and burn some of the wood away. Valuable treasure usually won’t burn.”

“Could be useful documents,” Hawke replied, his lock picking tools moving quickly.

“From what, a hundred years ago?” Anders asked. Hawke didn’t reply. He kept trying to open the chest and kept failing.

“One tiny tiny fire spell…” Anders reminded him, leaning against the cave wall and grinning. Even as Hawke grunted in frustration Anders looked at him fondly. Hawke wasn’t the only one who was obvious.

“Okay,” Hawke announced, “trying a new strategy.”

“Secret rogue technique?” Fenris asked him, a little sarcastically.

“Of course,” replied Hawke. Then, he picked up the chest and threw it across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed, not a dent on the thing.

Anders burst out laughing, which is something he never would have done before. Hawke looked over at him, and all frustration melted away. He wore a small satisfied grin, watching Anders laugh with open fascination. Oh creators, they were cute.

Eventually the group agreed to take the chest back to Varric and Isabela and see if either of them had better luck. The group decided to camp out that night in the cave since the sun was setting, and Merrill noticed how close to Anders Hawke put his bedroll. They could just be sleeping together if they weren’t trying to hide. It was quite silly, watching Anders look with open longing at the space between them.

At some point Hawke went out of the cave to gather some elfroot, and Merrill decided now was a good time to ask him why on earth he was hiding his relationship.

“Hawke…” Merrill said, walking beside him.

Hawke jumped, clearly not noticing her presence until just then.

“Maker!” He exclaimed. “You should wear shoes… why are you out here?”

Merrill grinned. “I just wanted to congratulate you! You and Anders,” she whispered.

Hawke was completely caught off guard, raising his eyebrows. “Me-me and Anders? What about us?”

“You’re together now!” Merrill continued. “Come on Hawke, don’t lie!”

Hawke let out a sigh, but then smiled. “Alright, alright. Yeah, we’re together now.”

Merrill let out a small squeal, clapping her hands. “Why ever are you keeping it a secret though?”

Hawke’s smile slipped from his face. “Anders. He’s nervous… about him getting me in trouble somehow. Lots of eyes on me, being the new blood in Hightown. I also don’t…. oh, never mind.”

It wasn’t like Hawke to sound that uncertain about something. Hawke always knew what he was doing, or at least looked and acted like it.

Right now he looked like he was holding onto something and desperately wished to unload that burden.

“Hawke,” Merrill chided gently, “you can tell me, whatever it is.”

Hawke considered her offer for a moment, an uncharacteristic look of vulnerability in his eyes that so often sparkled with mischief.

“I don’t know if he even knows how to be in a proper relationship,” Hawke said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Relationships are discouraged in the Circle,” Hawke explained. “So everyone had to be secret, and no couple were really an item exactly. It was all fleeting. This isn’t fleeting, but I don’t know how to tell Anders that.”

Well, the answer seemed obvious to Merrill. “Tell him just like you told me! You just said it.”

Hawke chuckled, slightly subdued. “I know, I know. Look, I may have a particular talent for running my mouth but I’d rather not be that careless with Anders. He deserves security.”

Merrill smiled. That was sweet, she thought. How ridiculous that Hawke was worried about this when he was clearly everything Anders needed.

“Well,” Merrill told Hawke, “however you have been handling Anders so far is-“

Hawke let out a snort of laughter.

“Stop it!” Grinned Merrill, realizing what she had said. “I’m trying to tell you something. I’m saying no matter what you’re afraid of, you’re good to him. I can see it, he’s so much happier now!”

Hawke’s expression was open, hopeful. “You think so?”

“I do think so, very much.”

—— Part 2 ——

Fenris and Hawke were drinking together at Fenris’s dilapidated mansion, trying to unwind from a stressful battle. Hawke had wanted company and a stiff drink but not the noise of the Hanged Man, so Fenris had offered his mansion as a suggestion.

Hawke was able to unwind quickly, going right back to his boisterous self. The man was somewhat infuriating and overly-witty, but he was Fenris’s friend. One of his closest friends.

It was getting late, and Fenris was just about to suggest they turn in for the night when Hawke says something that nearly makes him spit out his drink.

“I should really get going, don’t want to keep Anders up waiting.”

Hawke realized a second after he spoke what he had said, and just looked at Fenris for a moment. Fenris looked back.

“Fucking finally!” Fenris exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “Fasta vass, you two were insufferable.”

Hawke just blinked at him a few times. “Insufferable? Really, I know you don’t like Anders but-“

“Both of you,” Fenris clarified. “You, Hawke, were insufferable around the man.”

Fenris did not like the mage, he was not happy for the mage per se, but… he could be happy for his friend. And happy he could finally tell his friend what a lovesick fool he always looked.

“You two make doe eyes at each other from across the room, find any and all excuses to make physical contact, you stare at him when he’s not looking and he stares at you when you’re not looking - it was madness!”

Hawke still looked somewhat stunned, but seemed to be taking Fenris’s comments in stride. Maybe a little embarrassed. “I didn’t look that often,” he said.

Fenris actually laughed. “Oh please, you are the worse of the two!”

“Am not,” Hawke responded a bit drunkenly. He was slightly flushed, either from the alcohol or from embarrassment.

“What I am confused about is why,” Fenris continued, the wine making him bolder than usual, “are you not flaunting your sickening love to the whole of Thedas?”

“I don’t know!” Hawke said a little too loudly, waving a hand. “It’s...Andersdoesntwanna…”

“What?” Fenris asked. It was unlike Hawke to mumble. He said what he thought and made damn sure everybody heard.

“Anders wants to keep us a secret,” Hawke said, slumping his shoulders. He looked like a disappointed Mabari. How very Fereldan of him.

“And,” Fenris said, not quite believing he was actually trying to help Hawke figure out his relationship problems with the abomination, “you do not want to be secret?”

“Yeah,” Hawke frowned, leaning his chin on one hand. “Fenris, I wanna treat him right,” Hawke whined. “I wanna take him places and buy him flowers and-“

Fenris tuned Hawke out after that, waiting for him to finish his list of things.

“I had no idea you were such a romantic.” Truly, this was a side of Hawke he had not seen yet. Hawke was irreverent, not one for traditions like flowers.

“Well,” said Hawke, “mages don’t get to be romantic in the Circle. So I want to give him that. And I don’t know, I just… he deserves romantic gestures and all that.”

That was disgustingly sweet.

“But I can’t do any of that if we have to sneak around,” Hawke continued to complain. “And I don’t know why he’s so intent on keeping us a secret! It’s not the Circle anymore, no one will punish us for loving each other.”

“”Love” is it?” Fenris asked with an amused smirk. Hawke really did open up when he was drunk.

Hawke looked slightly mortified, but tried to collect himself. “So?” He asked defensively, “people fall in love quickly all the time. And it’s not like I just met him-“

“Certainly not, I have been there throughout the literal years of pining.”

Fenris thought he might have some idea of what the mage’s motivations were, but it was a little too close to empathizing with him… oh, fuck it he was trying to help his friend. He could imagine himself in the mage’s shoes for once.

“Hawke,” Fenris said gently, “have you considered…” ah, how to phrase this? Even going down this line of thought was a little too close to home for Fenris. He didn’t want to think of the past, did not want to admit to Hawke how it still clung to him.

“Have you considered that in some ways the man has not left the Circle?”

“Whadaya mean?” Hawke asked, squinting. Hawke had better not be too drunk to remember Fenris pouring his heart out to him.

“I… in Tevinter… at Danarius’s estate… the slaves were not permitted to form romantic attachments. Those who were found were punished or sold.”

Fuck, it felt like there was a rock in his throat. The damn things he did for Hawke… Hawke had better be grateful that Fenris was such a good fucking friend.

“I, even now…” okay, just breath. Just breath. “Find it frightening that I even have friends.”

There, he said it. Bandage ripped off, wound disinfected. It hurt, but it was over.

Except that Hawke still looked confused. Fucker.

“Just because the mage is out of the Circle does not mean his mind will operate so. Habits are hard to break. You said yourself that he has never known stability. He will resist it.”

Hawke frowned sadly. “That’s… wow. I’d never thought of it like that.”

He suddenly looked much more sober.

“Thank you, Fenris. And I’m sorry that you still struggle.”

Now the conversation was turned back on Fenris, and Fenris did not like that one bit.

Fenris took another drink.

—— Part 3 ——

Isabela gleefully stabbed her attacker in the throat, spinning around and slashing at another. There were a lot of Tal-Vashoth on the Wounded Coast, after the same bounty as them. Isabela tried to have fun during fights, it was better than fear.

Unfortunately her strategy began to fail as the battle went on. They were outnumbered, and even with magic aiding them it was a struggle. Finally, Isabela killed what she thought was the last enemy. She almost sank to her knees in relief, but that relief was short lived and cut off abruptly as she heard Anders scream out for Hawke.

Isabela whipped around to see Hawke on the ground with blood spilling from his chest. Anders was kneeling over him, putting pressure on the wound and casting. Fenris stood to the side, having just killed the man who injured Hawke.

Even though Isabela wasn’t a mage, she could tell something was wrong. The spell came in fits and bursts, unstable. Anders was breathing heavily, sweat beading on his brow. His mana must be running out.

Isabela wished they had been fighting someone who might carry a lyrium potion, because Anders was clearly out.

Isabela watched on helplessly as Anders’ mana made one final surge before the man collapsed across Hawke’s chest. Isabela ran to them, pulling Anders up and looking Hawke over.

The wound was closed. He was still covered in scrapes and bleeding from a few smaller cuts, but the main danger was over. Hawke opened his eyes, blinked up at the sky.

“Anders?” He asked, seeing the man leaning on Isabela’s shoulder.

Anders shot up at his name, and then something unexpected happened. Or rather, very expected but startling nonetheless.

Anders grabbed Hawke by the lapels, pulled him up and kissed him hard.

Isabela just stared for a moment, but then began to clap. That was certainly a good ending to a fight. It was just like them to need a life or death situation to finally - wait.

Wait. Hawke didn’t look surprised, just stared up at Anders lovingly. Wait a minute.

“How bloody long have you two been together and I didn’t know it?” Isabela asked in exasperation and amusement.

Both men turned to her. Anders averted his eyes, Hawke just laughed.

“About a month,” Hawke said, still sounding somewhat out of it. He still managed to sound casual though.

Anders covered his face with one hand and groaned.

“Now everyone will find out,” he sighed. “You certainly won’t keep your mouth shut…”

“I can keep a secret,” Isabela replied haughtily. She was still grinning, caught up in the rush of a finished battle and the relief her friend was okay.

“I already knew,” Fenris shrugged. Now Isabela wanted to know how that happened.

“Fenris knew before me?” Isabela protested at the same time as Anders turned to Hawke and asked “Really? You told Fenris?”

“Didn’t mean to…” Hawke said sheepishly as he slowly sat up. “I was a little drunk.”

Anders was still grimacing, avoiding the eyes of his companions. For someone so unapologetic, he was adorably shy about this. Isabela simply had to tease him.

On the way back Fenris had to carry Hawke on his back, as Hawke was still quite injured. Anders had offered to carry him, saying he was stronger than he looked as a Grey Warden, but Hawke insisted that he had overworked himself healing. Anders relented, walking silently beside the group.

“So,” Isabela asked, “which one of you asked the other out?”

“Oh Maker,” Anders muttered, “here we go…”

“I bet it was Hawke,” Isabela continued, “you’re too mopey and sad to say something first. Although lately you’ve been better, which I’m guessing has something to do with Hawke.”

“Yes,” Anders replied, blushing and still frowning,, “Hawke makes me happy.”

“Awww,” Hawke said, grinning.

“It’s also about time you got laid,” Isabela continued with a wicked grin.

“You have no boundaries whatsoever,” Anders complained. “None at all.”

“Hawke, you’d better be good,” Isabela said. “He deserves good.”

Hawke just laughed. “I’m the best.”

“Sure, sweet thing,” replied Isabela. “I’ve never met a man who didn’t think so.”

What followed was a playful argument about Hawke’s prowess, which was only ended by Anders declaring “Alright yes he’s good! Now shut up.”

Isabela grinned. Fenris made a disgusted face.

“You must cease this conversation until you are not on my back.”

“Save it for when Anders is on his back,” Isabela agreed, nodding.

“I hate you all,” muttered Anders. “See, this is why we were secret!”

“They’ll get over it,” said Hawke, unusually giddy for a man who almost died. If Isabela had to guess he was riding the high of being public with his relationship. Hawke always had to be the center of attention.

“What are you smiling for?” Anders asked Hawke.

“What? Can’t I be glad that I can finally talk openly about my handsome, kind, talented, sexy, selfless, amazing-“

“Oh Maker please stop!” Anders pleaded, blushing hard. He was so pale he couldn’t hide it at all.

“-Striking, strong, perfect boyfriend?” Hawke finished with a pleased look.

This was great. Isabela was absolutely loving this.

“Save it for your mansion,” Fenris grumbled.

“You two finally agree on something!” Isabela smiled, nudging Anders.

“Lucky day indeed,” the man replied. Then, “Varric will be the worst.”

“Oh definitely,” Isabela nodded, “he’s going to ask all sorts of questions. Better prepare your answers.”

“What’s to prepare, we can just tell the truth,” said Hawke.

“I’m not telling him about my sex life, that’s the limit,” Anders declared.

“Then hope Hawke swears off wine,” added Fenris. “He’s chatty.”

Anders looked over at Hawke, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll not say a word,” he promised. “As long as I can keep talking about my special, sweet, beautiful-“

“Maker...,” Anders muttered again as Hawke went on another tirade of Anders’ good qualities.

Isabela spent the rest of the trip needling the pair with questions. Eventually even Anders started to smile, though he hid it well.

—— Part 4 ——

Aveline saw the absolute last person she wanted to when she responded to a claim of a bar brawl. Hawke. Of course it was Hawke.

He was slumped against the wall, face sporting a black eye and a bloody nose. The other guy didn’t look well either, leaning against one of his friends who also looked worse for wear.

“I’ll take him,” Aveline sighed to her fellow guardsmen.

Aveline led Hawke away, letting her friend put an arm around her shoulder to steady himself.

“You owe me yet another favor,” she grumbled.

“I’ll help with an investigation or something,” Hawke replied flippantly.

“Eventually you will run out of favors from me. What got into you this time?”

Hawke tensed beside her, stopped walking.

“He was a Templar, talking some shit about the mages under his “care””, Hawke sneered the last part. “Thought of them like animals, wasn’t afraid to let the whole bar know it. Bastard needed a good punch in the face.”

Aveline sighed. Hawke didn’t used to be like this.

“Hawke, that sounds like none of your business,” Aveline reminded him. “He wasn’t attacking you, you’re not even a mage.”

Hawke pulled away from her, stumbling slightly. “Bethany is, Anders is!”

“Bethany would not want you fighting Templars, she is perfectly at home in the Circle. Do not make this about Bethany, I know full well who is causing you to act like this.”

“Like what?” Hawke argued, “like someone willing to stand up for what’s right?”

“Like a troublemaker,” Aveline answered.

“Sometimes trouble needs to be made, it’s better than staying silent.”

Aveline rolled her eyes. Hawke was a ruffian at the best of times, and his new relationship was making him even worse.

“That sounds like a line straight from his manifesto,” Aveline replied.

“And that surprises you?” Hawke asked, raising his voice. “It surprises you that I support the man I love?”

“I had hoped,” Aveline told him, “that perhaps you would be a good influence on him. It appears he has influenced you.”

“You just want him silent, compliant, like all the rest!” Hawke snarled. This was worse than Aveline first thought.

“I do not hate mages,” said Aveline. “You know that.”

“But you don’t support them,” said Hawke as he leaned on a brick wall to take pressure off of his injured leg.

“I don’t support madness, needless violence.”

“You’re fine with me,” said Hawke. “Am I so different? I may live in Hightown now but I’m still a mercenary.”

Aveline contemplated this. It was true that her friendship with Hawke was somewhat...strained, but they had been through a lot together.

“You’re like family to me, Hawke,” Aveline decided on saying.

“Well Anders is my family now,” said Hawke. “And I won’t sit by while some asshole talks shit about my family. He needed a reminder to keep his shitty opinions to himself.”

“Hawke,” Aveline sighed. “Let’s just get you home. You’re still hurt.”

Aveline didn’t want to fight about this, they would never see eye to eye. This new development did worry her though. At first Hawke’s biggest flaw was that he cared too little, he breezed through life on nothing but witty one-liners. Now it seemed he took things too seriously, or at least believed that needless violence was the answer.

But as Aveline had said before, Hawke was her family. Hawke may flaunt his disregard for law and order constantly, may live by his own bizarre moral code…. but he was family. Aveline looked out for her family.

Hawke begrudgingly threw an arm around her shoulder, knowing he needed the support. The walk back to Hightown was awkward, neither of them speaking.

Aveline knocked on the mansion door, and a startled Bodahn answered. They were quickly ushered into the living room where Hawke collapsed ungracefully to the couch.

“Hawke?” Came the voice of Anders. “It’s about time you got home, I was getting w-“

Anders, looking a little sleepy and wearing Hawke’s house robe (which was enormous on him), rounded the corner.

“Maker’s breath, Hawke! What happened?” Anders rushed to Hawke’s side and sat next to him on the sofa.

“He fought a Templar,” said Aveline.

“Two Templars,” Hawke clarified. Anders looked mildly horrified.

“And why did you think that was a good idea?” He asked, placing a hand delicately on Hawke’s cheek as he began to heal the bruises on his face.

Hawke rattled off the same story he told Aveline, all the while Anders fretting over him and admonishing him for putting himself in danger. Unstable as he was, at least Anders knew how stupid what Hawke did was.

“This isn’t your fight, love,” Anders told him sadly. “When-“ he glanced over at Aveline, considering, but then continued talking to Hawke anyway.

“When we became involved I never wanted this for you! I want you to be safe, and my life isn’t safe!”

“It is too my fight,” Hawke replied. “It should have been my fight a long time ago, but it is now. I’m the son of a mage, brother to a mage, and now the lover of a mage.”

Anders bit his lip nervously, still looking upset.

“So what if I get into a few scrapes,” Hawke continued, trying for levity. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. And now I have a handsome healer to patch me up.”

Aveline pulled a face. “You can flirt when I’m gone.”

Aveline made for the door, but before she left she looked back a moment. Hawke was still trying to keep Anders from worrying, saying some nonsense or another. Anders continued to heal him, looking at Hawke with more care than anyone else did.

Maybe in a way, Anders was good for Hawke. Hawke looked after others, and until now no one was there to look after him.

Anders may be volatile, may be trouble, but… Aveline could see the devotion in his eyes. He may be dragging Hawke into trouble, but she could see he would do whatever he could to drag Hawke back out of it safe. Hawke needed someone like that.

—— Part 5 ——

Varric was waiting in Hawke’s living room, dressed far better than he ever had before. Kirkwall was throwing a party in Hawke’s honor after he was declared Champion, and Hawke had made sure all his friends got invitations. Varric had come to Hawke’s mansion to help him get ready.

“This is a bad idea,” came Anders’ voice from a room away.

“Nonsense!” Hawke replied jovially as he donned his fancy new coat. “Come on, show me how good you look!”

Anders entered the living room, wearing attire worthy of Hightown in a deep navy color. It looked striking against his pale skin and blonde hair.

Hawke whistled, and Varric could see why.

“You clean up nice, Blondie.”

“Hey, back off,” Hawke laughed.

“Told you, not into humans.”

Hawke continued to grin and Anders continued to look worried.

“I...I’m not sure I should go,” Anders said. “Everyone will be watching you, and a great many of them probably saw me use magic during the invasion.”

Hawke’s expression softened, but he still smiled. “Love, I couldn’t face those nobles without you.”

Anders didn’t look convinced. He wrung his hands nervously, not meeting Hawke’s eyes. “The Knight Commander will be there.”

“I won’t let her touch you,” Hawke said, voice suddenly hard.

Anders let out a sad laugh. “I’m not entirely sure you’re in control of that, love. But besides that you need to make a good impression on all of Kirkwall and that includes the Templars. You taking me with you as your guest is just...it’s as if you’re declaring…”

“That I love you?” Hawke asked, slightly incredulous. “I damn well hope that’s what it looks like I’m declaring, it’s what I’m trying to declare.”

Anders looked startled, his reply dying on his lips.

“You two are such a cliche,” Varric added, hoping to ease the tension but also unable to resist teasing two of his closest friends.

“If I wrote you into a story the reviews would all call it unrealistic!”

Hawke smiled, slightly abashed. Hawke was a shameless man, but when it came to Anders he was sometimes like a youth with his first love.

“Anyway,” Hawke said, his voice becoming serious once more. “I’m not hiding us. You’re part of my life, and those nobles can deal with it. I’m the fucking Champion, if that doesn’t let me dance with the man I love them what’s even the point?”

“You don’t like making things easy on yourself, do you…” Anders muttered, blushing slightly.

“I don’t care about easy, I care about you.”

Oh ancestors, they really were a cliche. It was so cute it was almost sickening.

“Writing that one down…” Varric smirked, indeed pulling out a notebook.

Anders frowned and Hawke laughed.

“I still don’t know about all this…” Anders said, voice soft and unsure.

“Anders,” said Hawke, getting to his feet and walking to him. He took the other man’s hands in his. “I want you there with me for all of Kirkwall to see. I want to be known as the lover of a mage because that’s who I am, and the world can screw itself if it doesn’t like seeing us happy. Your fight is my fight, always will be.”

Anders looked like he didn’t know how to respond for a moment. Then he spoke, only a soft “okay.”

Then promptly he decided he needed to check his hair in the mirror again and left.

“Your man’s a skittish one,” Varric told Hawke.

“Only about this,” Hawke sighed. “But one day he won’t be. I’ll make sure that one day he’s not afraid of happiness.”

“He’s probably more afraid of what could ruin that happiness,” Varric told his friend.

“If that were the only thing…” Hawke shook his head. “Well, I’ve got my work cut out for me, that’s for sure. Doesn’t matter though,” Hawke finished, smiling his usual carefree smile. “I’ll be with him ‘till the end, I’ve got time.”

Varric laughed at Hawke, fondly. “Maybe he’s just embarrassed because you say things like that. You truly have no shame.”

“The world’s got too much shame in it,” Hawke replied easily with a wave of his hand, “why add more?”

Varric decided to write that one down too.

—— Part 5 ——

“Come on Fenris,” said Isabela, leaning languidly against a pillar, her cleavage absolutely spilling out of her dress. “Admit it, they’re cute.”

She was looking out onto the dance floor where Hawke had finally coaxed Anders.

“They are repulsive,” Fenris huffed.

“They are not!” Merrill chimed in as she sipped from a champagne glass. “They’re adorable.”

Hawke’s band of misfits had somehow ended up all clumped together, enjoying the festivities but not the nobles.

“Well, I am happy for Hawke,” said Aveline. She wore her ceremonial armor, opting out of a dress.

“But I also saw the look the Knight Commander gave him. She’s not happy.”

“Lighten up,” said Isabela. “Hawke will be fine. He always is.”

“And I don’t think Hawke minds getting into more trouble,” said Merrill in a matter-of-fact tone, “certainly not if it’s for Anders. He does love showing him off.”

“Hey, it’s giving me more book material,” said Varric, “so I can’t complain.”

“I don’t know who is more shameless,” said Fenris, “you or Hawke.”

“Are you talking about my writing or Bianca?”

“Both,” Fenris said, a slight smirk on his lips.

The group watched on, somewhat captivated by how Hawke and Anders moved through the dance floor. It was a relief to all of them that the pining was now over, and they were all happy for their friends.

Anders had been right about their relationship bringing trouble, but Hawke was also right that he did not give a damn.

“Fine,” Fenris scoffed. “They are...cute.”

[diffuserlover]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a personality ship with NCT 127, Stray Kids, and Ateez? No rush of course.

Basics about me: My big three are Gemini Sun, Leo Rising, and Taurus moon (quite an interesting combination I've been told). I wouldn't say I'm shy but I'm a more quiet individual. I'm not always the best at expressing myself through words so I tend to communicate through actions and expressions instead. I also tend to get lost in my own thoughts a lot and can end up zoning out without realizing it. However overall I'm a very open and affectionate person. Someone you can go to if you need emotional support or just someone to listen to you vent rather than give advice (lowkey awful at that). Once I'm close to someone I am loyal to a fault and will do almost anything for them. A lot of my love language comes from actions whether that be physical affection, giving them random gifts, or just doing cute/silly things to make them smile. I will admit I can also be kind of clingy and sensitive when it comes to my inner circle so I try my best to avoid confrontation and often take things to heart when I shouldn't. Since I'm awful at voicing how I feel about something I'll often just go quiet if somethings wrong until it either blows over or someone forces me to acknowledge it.

I'm that really creative person who takes on a million jobs and hobbies but never actually commits to any of them. My attention span is basically nonexistent and I have a million ideas at once so I start projects then never finish them. I'm also very committed to my studies and often burn myself out by taking on too many tasks at once if I don't pay attention. Like I think I can handle all the work and very quickly realize I can't. The few hobbies I actually managed to keep interest in are baking, writing, and watercolor painting.

Other likes and interests of mine include: Music, Movies (specifically fantasy or horror), nature and going on walks, animals, sweet foods, nighttime, cold weather, and jokes/riddles as I have a rather childish sense of humor. Things I dislike include: being too hot, clothes that are too revealing, dark humor, and I am extremely scared of heights and "deep" water (things like swimming pools, the ocean, etc. Anything that goes above my knees essentially.) I also startle easily since I'm not always paying attention which is pretty embarrassing.

My ideal partner would be someone who I can just be open and comfortable around, they balance my personality but also push me out of my comfort zone a bit. Like it doesn’t matter if we go out on a fun date or just sit in the same room enjoying each other's presence because the mood is the same. They don’t have to be overly affectionate but I can be clingy or cuddly so they would have to be okay with that. Also someone who is passionate about what they do is really admirable to me. Bonus points if they can match my sense of humor and help me break out of my shell a bit more.

This is kinda long and I apologize but thank you so much in advance! I hope you are doing well!

Hi! Thank you so much for requesting!! No need to apologize for it being too long!! I hope you like them<3

NCT127:

I ship you with…

Jaehyun

He has said that he can be quite sensitive and emotional sometimes and we wants someone who he can lean on, I think your that person

He leans on you a lot for support and sometimes just to have someone listen to him and of course he listens to you and let’s you use him as support

You guys definitely like to cuddle, he hates to admit how much you guys actually do

He has tried multiple times to have you get over your fear of water but he doesn’t push you too far, but you guys still go swimming together even if that means you watch him from the side he still enjoys being with you

You guys are the definition of comfortable silence, Jaehyun and you don’t find the need to always be talking

He told himself that he wouldn’t like the amount of physical affection you give him but he absolutely adores it

Give him back hugs as he makes you breakfast in the morning, if you don’t no breakfast for you(I’m serious)

He loves that you always try to cheer him up and always make him smile, even the thought of you makes him smile he’s that whipped

Jaehyun is an active person so you guys go on a lot of walks and hikes to get out of the house and it’s something you both like

He can always tell when your zoned out and he just loves being an asshole, he always grabs your shoulders scaring the hell out of you

He appreciates the fact that your loyal to him because he takes relationships seriously

One thing Jaehyun hates is when you close your self off, he likes communicating instead of pushing those problems back so he’s pushing your limits to get more comfortable with confrontation but this is one of the only big stressors in your relationship

Overall, you guys have a comfortable and loving relationship<33

Stay Kids:

I ship you with…

Hyunjin

Hyunjin likes to read so he often asks to read your writings and give you feedback, none of his feedback is super bad he mostly just praises you for your hard work and good writing

You guys paint together a lot, your art styles are very different but you still paint with each other

One time you two decided to paint each other, he loves his so much and has it hung up above his bed at the dorms

Hyunjin is also a more sensitive guy so he comes to talk to you a lot

He just loves the way you actually listen, he goes to you with things he doesn’t want or can tell the members

Wipe his tears please, he cries during sad movies a lot

Clingy couple, you guys are both hella clingy but you guys don’t mind, Hyunjin just doesn’t like to do it in public

He loves gifts, handmade to expensive he loves and treasures them the same

I feel like you both aren’t very good at expressing with words your emotions which can make growing as a couple stand still but you guys support each other into opening up more

Hyunjin always gets scared during horror movies, protect him I’m begging you

He probably teases you a little bit about your fears but doesn’t take them too far

I say Hyunjin fits your ideal type pretty well, he’s very dedicated to his job and loves the support from you

Overall, you guys are really fun and sweet:)

ATEEZ:

I ship you with…

Wooyoung

He is the complete opposite of you and he brings how a more open and extroverted person out of you

He makes you feel comfortable and you surprisingly got close to home pretty quick compared to before

Another clingy couple

Wooyoung is all about physical affection

He often stares at you when you zone out laughing a little before scaring you out of your daydream

Wooyoung loves to mess with you but sometimes it can go to far

But Wooyoung always feels bad, he can tell when you get upset

Wooyoung finds it so funny how quiet you are compared to him

When Wooyounv gets in his feelings and is upset he feels embarrassed about it cause he is known as the funny guy the one that’s always happy, so he GREATLY appreciates you listening and trying to make him feel better

He likes the fact that you guys listen, you don’t even have to say anything back just being there and listening is enough for him

Wooyoung also has no attention span, so the two of you do a lot together because you can’t just sit still and do one activity

You guys definitely go out more than you stay in

Wooyoung loves the food you make, especially the sweets

He loves to push you outside of your comfort zone and support you in that

Overall you guys have an interesting relationship!!