#Hi I have a new interest but also getting into comics is Hard and there's so much out there so I'm just gonna read fic lol

[artslovergirl]

art & patrick at mark rebellato academy

[headcanons]

notes: i really enjoyed writing this because i just genuinely adore these characters and this movie so much. there's so many interesting little details and nuances there that i could just talk about forever and ever. i truly hope i did them justice here lol (also writing this made me jealous of people that are good at writing character analysis' and thinkpieces bc wow it is hard!) but yeah enjoy!

wordcount: 3.4k

they met at age 12 during their first day at the mark rebellato academy in their now shared room. 

when art came in with a duffel bag (that looked comically big next to his scrawny kid body) patrick was already sitting on the bed he had claimed(the right side next to the door) all by himself, his parents didn't have a very tearful nor long goodbye as they sent their son off to boarding school.

in contrast art’s mom and grandma seemed keen to embarrass him in front of his new roommate with their cooing and hugging him goodbye. 

it wasn't even like his mom and him were really all that close though. she just seemed to want to squeeze in all the moments of a loving mother-son relationship into the small segments of time she actually spent with him.

the goodbye hug and small ruffle of his hair from his grandma felt a little more genuine. embarrassing all the same as he could feel the other dark haired boy try not to crack up at the display.

"mom. please." he pleaded with her as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "i’m sorry, artie, but i need to make up for all the time i'm gonna miss with you!" yeah, he bets.

a few minutes later and a tear or two from his mother they did finally leave him be. as soon as he heard the door shut though, the awkward silence enveloping the room almost made him miss them. 

he threw his duffel bag on the left bed and sat down on the edge. he fidgeted with his bottom lip, a nervous habit he's had for as long as he could remember. 

the brunette boy shifted on the bed so he was now facing him. his mouth pulled into a toothy grin "so you're...artie?" 

art groaned and hid his head in his hands, slumped over his knees. "no, that's..just my moms nickname for me. sorry you had to see that." he says in a squeaky broken voice which didn't help the embarrassment he was already feeling.

the other boy just brushed right past all that and said "i’m patrick." and then as an afterthought, "zweig."

"uh." art leaned back up, still avoiding his gaze. it was weirdly intense. "yeah, i’m..art. um, donaldson." he said the last part like it was a question almost.

patrick began to swing his legs a little. it was clear to him that art was the quiet type even if they had just exchanged a few words so far, but luckily patrick didn't mind talking. it was something his father always hated about him. he almost talked enough for both of them which after a little while finally seemed to break the ice of art's shy exterior. 

art didnt know what he thought about patrick yet. he was pretty..confident that was for sure. even a little arrogant, maybe. art scolded himself internally for being so judgemental. it was quality he hated about himself, but seemingly couldn’t get rid of.

despite all of that he had to admit that patrick was easy to talk to. there was never an uncomfortable gap in conversation with him. which art liked since those kinds of things made him want to crawl out of his skin sometimes.

that first night he spent staying up with patrick, slowly realizing how much they had in common while simultaneously being complete opposites, is one of his fondest memories and probably always will be. he never experienced another connection that felt anything even close to that.

their room wasn't too small but with the way patrick would just constantly toss his clothes wherever he pleased it seemed a lot smaller. 

it's not like art was insanely neat or anything, he was still a teenage boy. patrick was just exceptionally messy.

"patrick, this shit is so gross, i told you to use the hamper." 

patrick groaned, "youre such a neatfreak, fuck off." 

at that response a pair of dirty boxers were thrown at his head, courtesy of art. "i don't want to see or smell your worn underwear. that doesn't make me a neatfreak." 

patrick just tossed it back in art’s direction, to which the blonde quickly scurried out of the way to dodge it like his life depended on it. 

"you know if tennis doesn't work out for you, you'll make a good housewife." patrick grinned mockingly.

“ha-ha.” art just rolled his eyes, stuck up his middle finger and let the door slam behind him with his racket bag slung over his shoulder. 

trying to get patrick to do anything was like trying to teach a cat to do a trick without any treats. borderline impossible. so by age 15 art finally gave up.

...until he realized a year later that patrick would clean his side of the room whenever they had a girl over so..

yeah, sometimes he did lie and tell patrick that a girl was coming over just so he would clean his side of the room. 

you can judge him all you want but you never had to room with patrick zweig

 and after the third time that trick stopped working anyway. art was never a good liar. or maybe patrick could just call his bullshit way too easily.

they didn't fight too often, it was more like they constantly got into little tiffs

except for that time where it got so out of hand that they duct-taped a line dividing their rooms into two sides. (i know this is giving sitcom i'm sorry but tell me i'm wrong)

eventually they kind of forgot what they even fought about in the first place but they were too lazy to take the tape off of the carpet, so it just stayed on there for like 2 years till it peeled off.

like i mentioned in my other post these two were BITCHES

they would def talk shit all the time. they were not even trying to be secret about it tbh. (see: them staring at anna crying at tashi's party)

they sat in the bleachers watching one of their classmates play a practice match

“dude, look at that forehand. it sucks.” art muttered. patrick nodded, “i know. no way she’ll even make it through the semester.” “i’ll be surprised if she makes it through this match without fracturing her wrist.” patrick snickered at art’s comment.

actual mean girls LMAO

and to be fair, they were fucking amazing at tennis, especially when they played together

so it's not like anyone could necessarily insult them back

but it also wasn't bullying or anything

they were just judgy and loved to talk shit

art had some decorum about it or felt bad about it sometimes. not patrick though. 

man has no shame. never did. as art so lovingly puts it “the part of his brain that feels shame withered away a long time ago.”

art wore glasses from ages 12 till 14 

he then switched to contact lenses because patrick said girls dont like guys with glasses and that they make him look nerdy

they weren't allowed to have any sort of electronics like computers or flip phones at the academy. not even mp3 players. 

now obviously patrick completely ignored that rule. he had like three flip phones under his bed in case his actual one ever got taken (it did)

he also smuggled in 2 mp3 players (one was for art, patrick is so kind… he did charge him 4 dollars for it though. that rich asshole. lmao)

honestly i would like to insert here what i think they would have listened to but..i was like..a baby when they wouldve been at the academy so..feel free to drop your music headcanons in the reblogs or comments 

they were only allowed one weekly call to their families from the communal landline.

neither patrick nor art were very fond of these calls so even though they weren't supposed to they would always go into the phone room together.

patricks mother always insisted on speaking in german with her son. he thought she only did it because it made her feel more connected to his father’s side of the family. not like it would fix their fucked up marriage though. 

“nein, mama, ich habe mein deutsch nicht vergessen.” (no, mom, i havent forgotten my german) he sighs. art sits on the floor next to him and flicks a rubber band at him. “ja, verstanden. ja, ich weiß.” (yes, understood. yes, i know.) he rolls his eyes. 

art understood a few of the basic words since patrick taught him some german after art asked how to correctly pronounce his last name. 

“..bis nächste woche. tschüss.” (talk to you next week. bye.) he hung up. his mom said i love you but he knew she didn't mean it so he didn't say it back. 

patrick groaned and stretched out his legs that were seemingly getting longer by the day (art secretly prayed for a growth spurt that would make him taller than patrick. right now he was still pretty short for a guy his age.) 

he handed the phone to art. “she always talks so much. it's like i'm not even on the other line.” patrick scowls. art just nodded. he knew that by now.

art called his grandma but his dad picked up instead. it was okay. talking to his dad felt a little like talking to some distant uncle that he only saw once a year, “how's it going, champ?” “good.” “great.” that kinda stuff

the phone call lasted 5 minutes. he stood up and hung the phone back on the receiver. 

“wanna smoke?” patrick asked already reaching for the two loose cigarettes stuffed into his jean shorts pocket.

art nodded. he didn't really like smoking, and he kind of only did it because patrick did. and whenever he did, all he could think about was how bad for him it was. 

he was always pretty conscious about that kinda stuff, it was a little drilled into him by his dad who was the most adamant about art becoming a tennis player since he used to be one when he was younger.

so sugar and fats (basically anything that tasted good) were pretty much banned in the donaldson household 

which kind of resulted in art subconsciously believing that anything that brought him joy or pleasure must be inherently bad for him or followed by a feeling of guilt and shame to make up for it.

needless to say art wasn't the best at indulging. he was a little jealous of how patrick never seemed to have any issue with that sort of thing.

patrick didn't care about maintaining a good diet or depriving himself of life's pleasures for the sake of tennis. he took what he wanted like life owed it to him. 

maybe that's why he smoked with patrick. to try and be more like him?

also because it gave him a nice sense of rebellion.

most things he did with patrick gave him that feeling.

at the academy they were the definition of ‘not sold separately’

if you saw one the other wasn't far behind

its not like they didn't have other friends. they did. they were pretty popular actually

but none of those friendships were anything like what art and patrick had.

especially when playing doubles.

it felt like they could communicate telepathically 

patrick knew when art was going for the ball before the other team even served and vice versa.

tennis felt different when they were playing together. better.

and it felt so easy, it felt like nothing they needed to work on. their friendship was the same. it was so easy, so natural.

after about a year or so of being friends they started being in sync. literally.

they cross their legs at the same time, they pick up their rackets at the same time, they adjust their forehand grip at the same time, they walk at the same pace, they sit down the same etc etc you get it

also that isn't really a headcanon, like this is canon in the movie. and it makes me SICK that they were still in sync in 2019. after not talking for 12 years. shut up that’s some soulmate shit

now let's talk about something else that is canon…the pushed together beds.

yes!

now, i think patrick is a person that is pretty open with his body in general in terms of like being physically affectionate. or just being physical. 

i don't know if art is, i think he's a little more reserved. (repressed if you will! i will!)

but patrick touching him so casually does fill a little tiny (gaping) void in him that yearns for touch.

he is a professional yearner as we all know

and patrick never had an issue satisfying those yearnings for him. (i think we saw that in the fact that patrick taught art how to jerk off ok next topic)

patrick would sling his arm around his shoulder, lay his long legs over arts lap, ruffle arts curls (“stop that, you're messing them up.” “no, i'm not they always look like this”),he would barge into their room after practice flopping his tall sweaty body on top of art to annoy him.

they were very physically affectionate it was just all under the guise of shoving and tripping each other and just general teenage boy roughhousing shenanigans. that counts as a love language to me ok!

art got used to patrick touching him very quick and even reciprocated sometimes 

also i do think that sometimes patrick would smack art’s ass as a joke. lol. (that's inspired by that video of the two doubles players doing that…do you guys know what i’m talking about)

OK SO!

the beds.

they were 16. patrick suggested it. “these beds are too fucking small.” he complained, laying on his staring at the smoke detector that he had covered with a shower cap so it wouldnt detect the smoke from his cigarettes. 

and to be fair…yeah. patrick stood at 1,80 cm right now and his feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.

art looked up from his book which he was only reading to impress a girl he had a crush on. patrick had told him to just pretend he read it but art said that was disingenuous and he wanted to know what she liked and why she liked it. 

“you know what we should do? we should push our beds together.” patrick sat up, grinning like he just had the best idea ever. 

arts features twisted up in thought. “isn't that a little close?” 

“nah, why, we still have our own beds. just more space.” patrick shrugged.

he glanced at their beds. “uhhh…i guess we can do that. the beds are a little cramped. although is that even allowed?” art began fidgeting with his lip like he usually did when he was in thought.

but patrick was already in the process of shoving his bed next to arts after which he let himself fall onto the two beds in a starfish position, with his gangly limbs almost stretching to every corner of the beds. “oh. great. and i’ll just curl up at the foot of the bed then?” art gave patrick a deadpan stare. 

“up to you.” patrick grinned in that specific way that really irked art. 

patrick did make some space for him once they actually went to sleep that night

even now they were two opposites making a whole

patrick always ran cold so he hogged all the blankets and art always ran hot so he immediately kicked them off of him as soon as he fell asleep 

that only made this new pushed together beds thing even better for patrick because he now got to have his own blanket AND steal arts every night

i wouldn't say they cuddled necessarily? i think it was more just like the regular amount of physical touching that happens when you sleep in the same bed

which is still pretty intimate to me idk about you guys

like their legs kind of thrown over each others, art’s arm occasionally draped over patricks chest (or literally on his face. art denies every time that he does it on purpose but patrick KNOWS he does it to annoy him. he knows.) 

one time art had a nightmare of being trapped under a rock only to wake up and find out that somehow patrick had rolled over in the middle of the night and was now laying COMPLETELY on top of art. right before he was about to push him off (because he was making art actively suffocate) patrick rolled over again and fell out of bed. he didn't even wake up from that. genuinely just slept on the floor that night. freak of nature that guy.

also patrick for sure twitches like a dog in his sleep

and i think it used to wake art up because he's a pretty light sleeper but eventually he just got used to it lol

when art went to stanford he never finished the last bite of anything he ate because he was so used to patrick being next to him and just stealing the last bite.

patrick really really wanted to get his ears pierced when he was 15. 

so naturally he asked art to do it for him.

you know…like how they did it in the parent trap. which if you asked them is a movie that they definitely haven't seen. ( but they did see it and art cried at the twins reuniting with their parents, oops.)

unfortunately for patrick art was very very squeamish with needles at that age (i think that mellowed down the older he got but he still refused to look whenever he got vaccinations or anything like that.) 

so now it was midnight, they were in their room sitting on the floor and arguing

“dude, just do it, stop being such a wuss. you're not even the one getting pierced.” patrick groaned, he had numbed his earlobe with ice but he could already feel a little bit of the feeling return to it, that's how long they had been sitting there with art squirming around because he hated even looking at the sewing needle.  

“that's worse though because i have to look at the needle going in your ear!” art argued

“ well, i can't do it myself.” patrick replied.

...

“are you wearing my shirt?” art squinted at him

“stop trying to change the subject.” 

“i told you to stop stealing my clothes. i don't want to do laundry that often.”

“can you focus?” patrick groaned

“dude.. okay, fine. just give me a second.” art took a deep breath.

“oh. my god. you're not performing open heart surgery.” 

“shut the fuck up.”

“you shut the fuck up.” 

and what do you know that response got art to get over his fear of needles for a second and stab that thing right through his best friends ear 

the little high pitched yelp patrick let out in surprise at that is something art didn't let him forget about for like two weeks after

it took about another hour for art to pierce patricks second ear and eventually they managed but then like a week later patrick forgot to put his earrings in and the piercings immediately grew shut

so all that drama was for nothing!

i think art has always kind of been the type of guy to want domesticity. 

i already posted about this somewhere but i kind of came to that conclusion because patrick said “he wants to spend time with his family” to tashi in the alley scene

patrick hadn’t spoken to art for like a decade at that point

and you could say it's a good guess but NO! 

patrick knows art like the back of his hand and patrick knows that art has always wanted a family and how much it probably kills him to miss out on time with them due to his career at that point in time (also just throwing this out there i think art always wanted to have a daughter more than a son, like that just makes sense to me. maybe bc i think his own relationship with his dad is so distant? idk!)

so yeah

also the sauna scene where patrick says that marriage isn't what he was for 

(to me) also implies that he is the opposite of art who was meant for marriage

anyway do i think that art shared his wishes for a family and marriage in the future with patrick? yes

do i think patrick jokingly made art promise to make him his best man? yeah

and furthermore do i think about the fact that patrick then had to read about arts wedding in some tabloid years later? yep!

i’m sure i could think of more in the future but that's all i've got for now! i hope this was coherent enough to enjoy because it’s not as proofread as my fics usually are lol! i just wanted to get these thoughts out there

if some of these seem familiar it might be because i took some of these from my twt!

i also have some more headcanons floating around on my tumblr that i didn't include here if you want to find those, or not, i'm not your mom! 

[science-lings]

I used to not like batman bc he was the epitome of dudebro edgy comic guy, like a Deadpool fan but like... Worse, but after Pattinson turned him into an awkward antisocial pathetic man I have come to reconsider.

I think he's fun as long as he's not this hypermasculine grumpy man and instead a guy that writes goth poetry and wears so much eyeliner that he looks like a raccoon and hates talking to people so he just stands around threateningly barely saying anything, and also he's a dad who grew up almost completely in a mansion after experiencing major trauma who chronically adopts fucked up kids and teaches them how to throw a punch. I think that is cool. Like he's still so emotionally repressed but he loves his kids and it's messy but ultimately he's good. People just think he's secretly a vampire or a demon but he's really just a college dropout with several unidentifiable issues and one of them is Too Much Money.

[ozzgin]

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

[felassan]

Compilation of snippets from the DA:TV acting talent panel at SDCC (Dragon Age: Meet the Heroic Companions of Thedas) today (July 26th). DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Huge props and tysm to the users who live-tweeted and clipped this panel, you are heroes 🙏💜!!

The panel was moderated. In attendance were John Epler, creative performance director Ashley Barlow, and the actors of Lucanis, Neve, Emmrich, and Harding - Zach Mendez, Jessica Clark, Nick Boraine, and Ali Hillis respectively.

The panel ended with a Q&A session.

(BioWare have stated that a recording of the panel will be made available at a later date.)

Edit/update: I've now been through this post and tidied it up :)

---

Here are some pictures from the panel [source]

Here are some more pictures from the panel [source]

In this Twitter thread there are also some video clips of parts of the panel [source]

BioWare tried to avoid spoilers in the panel [source]

Key points/summary of DA:TV: hunting Solas, found family companions, stop the elven gods [source]

When auditioning the companions, BW were specifically looking for character chemistry [source]

BW used motion capture for the game [source]. Mo-cap was mentioned a lot in the panel [source]

Lucanis sees assassination as a job. His mind is as dangerous as his knives and he is also "kinda hilarious" [source]

There was mention of other Crows [source]

Zach Mendez read Tevinter Nights like three times [source]

A clip of the actors doing mo-cap was shown [source]. Photos of Zach mo-capping for other characters was shown [source]

BioWare said that Zach brought a certain darkness to Lucanis [source]

Zach is excited for the romance and is looking forward to the stats [source]

Zach mentioned that he used his own relationship with his brother in his portrayal of Lucanis [source] (surely this means ILLARIO.. ?👀)

Zach played a lot of darkspawn originally while auditioning [source]

Ali Hillis really welcomed Zach into the DA family [source]

Neve is from Minrathous. She has fun banter and is a cynical detective with a heart of gold. They want to show a rebellious side of Tevinter [source]

Jessica Clark loves Neve's loyalty, dedication, and different vision of Tevinter

Neve is fighting for the people [source]. Jessica: "She is really really fighting for those people, and she loves those people. So, yes, she's cynical, and yes she's kind of tough and brusque and all these other things, but when they say there's a heart of gold, there really, like, to have that kind of a passion and dedicate your life to something like that, I think that's definitely my favorite part about her" [source]

Jessica loves how much Neve loves Docktown and its people [source]

Neve sees a different vision for Tevinter than what has previously been depicted in the series [source]

The actors were separate from one another while recording lines but still bonded really well and organically [source]

There are several Veilguard gc [source] (groupchats?)

Ali is an angel and very supportive of the new cast [source]

Emmrich is a "stone cold silver fox" (this is a quote from the panel moderator) [source]

BioWare knew the reaction they would get about Emmrich from the fandom [source]

Nick Boraine feels like he's been preparing for Emmrich all his life. He's obsessed with death (as a comfort and not scary) and enabling people to transition into death. He is attracted to this aspect of the character [source]

"You're gonna need a dictionary for Emmrich" for all the magic spells [source]

"Interesting how this character caught fire compared to the other sexy characters" [source] (I think this was said wrt Emmrich?)

BW had a great time recording with Nick, he is a very consistent actor [source]

Nick and Matt Mercer have never met [source]

Manfred plays off of Emmrich. "I set the tone" [source]

What has Harding been doing in-between DA:I and DA:TV? She's been working closely with Varric and the Inquisition remnants. She and Neve already met in the comics [source]

Ali vividly remembers the beginning of voicing Harding, she says it's brilliant writing. She really thought of Harding's personality and traits. She's so happy to be back [source]

wrt the Covid-19 pandemic and the year 2020, BW had to pivot with working remotely and were able to push through their projects. [source]

"[Harding] chasing Solas for a decade..." "that was a great relationship that [you] developed... and now I'll stop talking now". Ali was excited [source]

John Epler talked about how companions may but heads, and won't be predictable [source]

There are thousands and thousands of lines and so many characters to meet [source]

Zach "unfortunately has been around the DA Reddit before recording as Lucanis" [source]. He feels inspired by all the fans and cannot wait for us to play it [source]

[new textblock due to character limit!]

John Epler on Emmrich: "I mean honestly, I will say, like, we expected a great reaction to Emmrich. Went beyond what we expected for sure. But it’s been fascinating to see, because again, Emmrich is this character, he’s more of the professorial, more, he brings a wisdom and kind of a calmness to the group, so even when things are at their worst, there’s that one person in the group who is kinda like, ‘okay, y’know, we've got, let's figure it out, let’s take a deep breath’. And just his journey through his character arc, and his interactions with the others, it’s been fantastic to see. Even just finding opportunities for him to bounce off the other characters, you know, the way he talks to Bellara, the way he talks to Neve, it’s all so different, but it’s also just, again, based around this core of this warm, kind-hearted, professorial necromancer. Which, again, is not something you see a lot of in media. I mean, usually, necromancers are depicted in a very specific way. But it’s been, it's awesome to see how Emmrich has grown and just, really one of the most, one of my favorite experiences has been just working with Emmrich’s writer, working with Emmrich as a character." [source]

All the actors are excited about the dialogue and narrative, and for us to explore DA:TV [source]

Ali says that we will really find ourselves in this game [source]

During the recording process, the actors all hear the previous person's recording and react or respond to it [source]

Due to Covid-related lockdown, a lot of recording was done over Zoom, and the writers besides Ashley Barlow (creative performance director) would jump in on the call to talk about the previous person’s lines [source]

A question was asked about the background factions. "Characters not causes". [source]

You can work with the Grey Wardens in the game (for example) [source]

The actors all met this weekend. They are an "un-chosen" family [source]

Zach stood in for multiple characters for mo-cap, for example he was Assan [source]

Lucanis has a heart but is stubborn and stuck in his ways. Zach is excited for fans to help his character open up as the story progresses [source]

Jessica is incredibly honored to join the DA universe. She is new to voice acting for video games. “This is play pretend. Playing Neve allowed her to step into her power.” [source]

A question was asked on what their first exposure to fantasy was, and do they implement this into the acting? John talked about Lord of the Rings and how every media you experience will seep out into your work [source]

Ashley didn't want the dialogue to sound modern [source]

Zach loves Theseus and talked about the symbolism in DA [source]

Jessica loves Greek mythology and lore [source]

Nick talked about The Hobbit and how he would dress up in big boots and a cape when his mother would read to him [source]

Ali recently went to Greece and felt like she saw DA everywhere [source]

A question was asked - "From your companion's perspective, which previous companion would you romance?" Zach kind of has a thing for The Iron Bull, saying "oh that awakened something inside of me". He also likes Dorian. Jessica was too overwhelmed to answer. Nick was also overwhelmed by the question, but thinks Solas is sexy [source] [source]

Ali fangirled over Lucanis and Emmrich [source], prefers Emmrich [source]

A question was asked - "Is DA:TV and DA:I streamlined together?" [paraphrased]. Answer: DA games are not as streamlined as Mass Effect and act almost as standalones [source]

The cast were asked about which aspect of their character is their favorite. Ali loves the little quirks about Harding. "Lucanis is a good cook!?" ** Neve is very dry and pretty closed off about it. For Emmrich, it's the "exploration of the idea of death and necromancy" [source] (** FINALLY CITATION for this? :D)

A question was asked: "How do you decide to introduce the lore in each game?" BioWare answered that it depends as they build each game. They always know the base lore, and see opportunities through game mechanics and characters. They try not to infodump [source]

A question was asked: "Any favorite party banter?" Ashley Barlow said to listen for "hand to bone combat" [source]

The game takes place approximately 10 years after the end of DA:I. You start the game hunting for Solas. The game is built on some core principles: be who you want to be in a world worth saving and with characters that matter. The companions are always at the heart of DA and they are at the heart of this game too. [source]

The moderator asked John Epler about what is bringing this party of people ("this rogues' gallery") together. John: "I mean, it's the end of the world, and each character that you bring into your party understands that the world is ending, that they need to stop that, and you're really building, what I would say is, more of a found family. These are characters who may not start off liking each other, may not even start off liking you, but over time they grow to understand the importance of what they're doing and just, how critical it is to stop the elven gods" [source]

"He is kind and has some spectacular lines. He is a natural nerdy scientist. He loves learning." [source] (Emmrich? ^^)

Ali didn't realize that Harding was such a beloved character. She thanked fans for bringing this character back [source]

Ali is super excited that the game is releasing. She said that there has been an evolution to Harding's character and that she's been chasing Solas for like a decade at this point [source]

Jessica loves the writing in the game [source]

Nick loves its narrative [source]

Ali said that this game is going to take you into a world that will blow your minds [source]

On Manfred: Nick was asked what it was like having another character to bounce off of. He said "Oh man! I mean, that is such a hard question, because Matt and I have never met, and we worked completely separately, and, I, I mean I know that the rapport is really great, but it's in the ether, I mean it is just, the magic that these guys create, telling us how to respond, how to do that, but it's, I can't wait to meet Matt" [source]

BW still said that the game's release window is Fall 2024 [source]. Nothing more specific was given [source]

There are also more snippets here in this Tumblr post, go check it out!

[source, two]

[dollfacefantasy]

Playing to Win

pairing: stepdad!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your new stepdad isn't much older than you, yet he has the audacity to ask you to call him daddy?

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon, daddy kink, humiliation kink, spanking, praise/degradation

word count: 4.3k

a/n: i got a little silly hehe. this is technically my first commission. if you’re interested, check out my ko-fi. as always i appreciate the support, smoochies.

this is my first commission written for my beloved @nexysworld. without her, this would never have come about. she's a great writer and such a sweet person. you all should go check out her blog if you haven't already.

“You want me to call you what?” you ask incredulously as you stare down the man standing across from you.

“You heard me,” Leon says with no sense of teasing in his voice.

You laugh in his face, a cruel, unabashed laugh. You could not believe his audacity to ask you to call him daddy. 

Technically, he was your new stepfather, but it was comical to you to even acknowledge him as such. He was right around your age, only a couple years difference, no way in hell were you going to call him daddy.

You had been open with your mother about your displeasure over Leon’s presence in your life. You called her a cradle robber and a cougar but to no avail. She continued her relationship with him; a young, bright eyed, rookie cop who always thought he knew best.

He wasn’t the problem so much. Sure, he was kind of annoying, but he was also pretty cute. He was funny, and if these were any other circumstances, you could see yourself and him getting along great, even being friends. Generally, he was nice to you, maybe a little over friendly if you were being honest. It always seemed like he knew something you didn’t, but you assumed that was just his nature.

“You’re funny, Leon,” you taunt, “Seriously, good joke.”

“It’s not a joke,” he corrects you and folds his arms over his chest, “Now that I’m taking a more serious role in your life, I expect you to show me some respect.”

“Oh, you do?” you laugh, “Leon-”

“Daddy,” he corrects.

You almost can’t speak, stunned to silence by the nerve of him. Was he doing this to annoy you? Was it supposed to be funny? Because there’s absolutely no way he could be serious about this.

“We are almost the same age. You realize this, yes?” you ask, enunciating the words slowly to get your point across, “I’m not calling you anything but your actual name. And maybe not even that cause you’re pissing me off, and I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“All this attitude, sweetheart, and for what?” he says as approaches you, “I’m not asking you to run a marathon for me. All I want is to be addressed properly.”

You scowl at the pet name. He brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before you swat it away.

“What is your problem, Leon?” you say angrily and shove him away, “Is this some fucked up fetish of yours? Like it’s not pathetic enough you’re fucking a divorced woman twice your age, right? You have to feel in control of me too to get it up?”

You laugh at him again when he responds with a glare. Rolling your eyes, you walk closer to him and get in his face.

“Aw, did I hurt daddy’s feelings?” you mock in the sweetest tone you could manage, giving him puppy dog eyes and putting emphasis on the title he was so obsessed with, “I’m so sorry daddy. Please don’t be mad at me.”

You’re about to laugh again before Leon spins you around so you quick the motion nearly gives you whiplash. Your back is flush against his chest, and even though you were teasing, your little performance clearly had some effect as you could feel his dick, now half hard, against your ass. It causes a small flash of heat in your belly that you try to pretend didn’t happen.

“Listen up, I’m not going to tell you again, baby. You do what I’m asking you, or we’re going to find another way to get it through your pretty little head,” he says.

His grip was firm. Despite his usual officer friendly persona, he could obviously be serious when he wanted to be. It didn’t shock you. You knew he was fit and could be intense. You’d caught him working out with his shirt off, sweat dripping down his muscular back while ‘Kim’ by Eminem blasted in his airpods. You tried to deny it, but it had left you feeling a little hot under the collar for the next few days.

You squirm in his hold, but he keeps your wrists pinned to your lower back. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, send me to my room? Ground me?” you say as you try to wriggle away.

“Oh no, we’re past that. You want to be a brat, I’ll handle you like one. I’ll put you over my knee and smack that cute ass until it’s raw, and you understand who’s in charge around here,” he says.

“You’re gonna spank me?” you shriek. You thrash harder in absolute shock. “No way! Are you fucking crazy? My mother will kick your ass.”

“Your mother isn’t here, babe. I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” he says. His fingers only tighten on you, digging into your flesh. An arm loops around your waist and starts pulling you over to the sofa. “Maybe she’ll be grateful that someone’s finally trying to teach you some manners.”

Even though you knew he was in shape, he was much stronger than you thought. He sits down on the sofa and folds you across his lap with no real effort. You’re secure there too, unable to get to your feet or away from him. You still try though, flailing your limbs about and bucking your hips.

“There, there. Let’s calm down, honey,” he coos, now clearly taunting you. He rubs the swell of your ass over the tight dress you were wearing. “Just tell Daddy you’re sorry, baby. I’m not a bad guy. I’m willing to hear you out.”

You don’t even respond. You pound your fists against his leg while kicking your feet.

“Poor baby. There’s no reason to throw a tantrum,” he says in the most condescending voice you’d ever heard. He gives you a light warning tap on the ass. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and Daddy will make it all better, give you all the kisses you need until you’re back to being a good girl.”

He was driving you fucking wild. Your body was taut with anger while your mind ran wild with frustration, not only at him, but at yourself. You could feel your panties getting sticky with arousal as he spoke down to you.

“Shut up, Leon!” you say and continue struggling.

His hand comes down again, cracking a little harder against the supple flesh of your ass. You suck a sharp breath in. It didn’t hurt yet, but it stung. Anymore force behind the swing of his palm and you knew he could fulfill his threats of marking up your ass.

“You wanna try that again, princess?” he says, “I’ll give you one more chance.”

“No! I’m not calling you Daddy you sick fucker! I-”

A loud slap echoes through the room. That was the smack you were scared of. So hard you could feel the burn beneath your skin. There was absolutely no doubt about his strength now. He lands another two, one on each cheek, drawing whimpers from your throat.

“Watch your mouth,” he says, “I’m sick of the whining and the back talk. I’ve given you more than enough chances to fix your behavior. I’m done playing nice with you.”

In a quick motion, he yanks your skirt up to bunch it at the small of your back. You squeal out “Leon!” but it makes no difference. Again, you attempt to wriggle away. All it does though is give him a view of your ass wiggling around in those cute panties you wore. The ones he had seen peeking over the waist of your jeans.

He lays more lashes to your skin in rapid succession. You wriggle slightly and involuntarily whine. Your ‘stepfather’ felt no guilt though. Partially because it was all part of the plan, partially because he could see the light purple fabric between your thighs darkening with arousal. Plus, the pathetic noises spilling from your mouth only made him want to work harder, rip more sweet cries from you. He continues cracking his solid hand against your bottom, sending ripples through the soft flesh. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, your eyes start to water, and your bottom lip juts out into a quivering pout.

“Oh, look at that sweet face,” he coos, taking a break from spanking you to stroke your cheek, “I know it hurts, baby. But it can all stop once you decide to stop being a stubborn little brat.”

He punctuates his statement with another swat. Your body jolts forward at the contact, head falling forward to hang in shame. You hate yourself for playing into it, but you can’t stop the automatic response that exits you in a humiliating whimper.

“I’m not a brat.”

“Oh you’re not? Could’ve fooled me,” he responds. He cracks his hand against your cheeks a few more times before giving you a break and rubbing the sore skin.

“I’m not. You’re just… you’re just mean.”

The words tumble from you in a pitiful cry, physically hurting you to say something so pathetic. To show such weakness when he was being such a prick. You shut your eyes, and a warm tear falls down your face. That only made you feel worse, making you want to cry more. A vicious cycle you couldn’t break out of when all your mind could think of was your stinging flesh and his patronizing voice.

“I’m being mean to you? Aw baby, after all the things you said, you think I’m the mean one?” he mocks.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper out without really thinking about it.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, sweetheart. You know what I want,” he says.

What’s supposed to be a groan comes out as a frustrated whine. You shake your head weakly and open your eyes again. His fingers slip beneath your chin to lift your face to look at him.

“Just say it. Say it and it will all be over. We can get on to helping you feel better,” he says.

The pain radiating from your ass, now glowing red, was almost enough to make you give in on the spot. But you could hear it in his voice. He was so fucking smug, having so much fun watching you cry and shift around in discomfort. You couldn’t just let him win.

So you shake your head defiantly, sniffling as your watery eyes connect with his in a stare. You immediately regret your decision because the amused glint that forms his eyes lets you know that he enjoys the resistance more than your submission. The corners of his lips tick upwards into a slight smile. Now it’s his turn to shake his head and mockingly tut at you before swinging his forearm and blasting your sore flesh with the heel of his palm.

You cry out, the noise strangled with despair. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to restrain the louder sobs that were bubbling in your throat.

“Just give in, sweetheart. There’s no need to act tough for me. Do what I know you want to, and say the word,” he orders, his words coming out low and slow.

You know you should, but god, you don’t want to. It’s like your most basic instincts don’t want you to either. You have to think through it, force your tongue to conjure the word and expel it from your lips.

“I’m sorry… Daddy,” you whimper. A couple more tears leak from your eyes. The humiliation that mounts in your chest is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. But as the heat rises to your cheeks and clouds your mind, making you feel dizzy, you feel a deeper sense of heat spreading out in your lower belly. And it only gets worse when he starts in on you again.

“Oh, that’s my girl. Such a good girl when you want to be. I knew you could do it,” he coos, “Say it again for me, baby. Least you can do after being so cruel.”

At this point, you figure you’d already said it once, so what’s one more time. You say it again if for no other reason than to stop his harsh blows from raining down on your sensitive skin.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you cry.

“That’s right. I know you are, honey. I know you don’t mean that stuff. You just wanted some attention, right? Wanted some time with Daddy all to yourself,” he says as his hand comes up and starts stroking your hair.

You weakly shake your head. You weren’t acting up because of that. He was being an asshole. That’s why you were acting up. Or were you even acting up? Your reaction was justified, wasn’t it? All the attention on you mixed with the shame boiling in your head makes it hard to think through this stuff.

“Oh, are you shy? Don’t wanna tell the truth?” he coos with a cruel chuckle. One of his hands rubs your aching ass while the other trails up and down your thigh soothingly. The latter hand slowly creeps to the junction of your legs. “I know that’s what it is, doll. I can feel it.”

As he says that, you feel fingers petting the damp fabric that conceals your cunt. You take a sharp breath to which his chuckle grows into a short laugh. He presses his fingers against the cloth, and you can tell immediately that even his movements are done in a way to mess with you. His digits drag against your panties, not giving you the pressure you need on your clit. You squirm awkwardly in an effort to find a better angle and not feel the soaked garment cling to your folds.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases.

You nod, any remaining shreds of dignity you have slowly being peeled away. You just couldn’t resist. The potential pleasure that’s just out of reach. The heat of his thick cock against your hip. His voice, like soft velvet slipping over your mind.

“Well honey, show me you can ask nicely, and I’ll be happy to help you out. Won’t even make you wait, we can get right to what you really want,” he says. His tone sounds slightly more genuine here.

“Pretty please, Daddy,” you force out. Your eyes cast down in shame as if you’re studying the pattern of the living room carpet.

“Pretty please what, babydoll?” he says, the teasing returning for a moment.

“Pretty please… fuck me,” you squeak.

He smirks, his victory written all over his face.

“Woah, listen to the mouth on you,” he tuts, “Normally, I wouldn’t let that kind of language fly, sweetheart, but I think you’ve had enough punishment for one day.”

His hands squeeze your waist and flip you over on his lap. He wipes away your tears with his thumb and presses a kiss to your forehead, that stupid smug expression on his face the entire time.

The next move is guiding your body onto the couch. You whimper as your back meets the cool leather. He pays that no mind and instead lifts your hips and tugs your skirt and panties off in one motion. You notice in your peripheral that he takes a souvenir, shoving the light purple underwear in his pocket.

After giving your ass a firm squeeze, his hands drift up and pull your shirt off. His eyes fixate on your tits, his soft hands coming to cup them and flick his fingers over your nipples which were beginning to perk up.

“No bra? I guess I should’ve expected that from you,” he chuckles as he continues fondling your soft breasts. The touch relieves some of the building pressure, the weight in your chest just begging to be squeezed and massaged. He watches the pliable flesh move beneath his fingers before giving your nipples a quick pinch and moving to undress himself.

He doesn’t waste any time, his clothing pooled on the floor in mere moments. He gets on top of you. Large hands hook behind your knees, angling your hips upward. Your legs come to rest on his shoulders as he grabs his cock and swipes the tip through the slick that had collected between your thighs.

“So fucking wet, I didn’t even need to warm you up,” he grunts as he pushes the tip in.

You bite your lip, unable to stop the whine it brings out of you. He exhales with amusement, and his free hand goes to your face to rub your cheek. It was only the tip so far, but you couldn’t even deny how good it felt. And while he moves with a purpose, he draws out this first thrust as long as possible. He inches it in, going as slow as he can. The pleasure he gets just from watching you squirm with desperation is clear in the way he looks down at you.

“There we go. Just what you need. Daddy filling you up. Gonna make you a good girl from now on,” he coos and drags his thumb over your bottom lip. 

Without even thinking, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue against the digit before wrapping your lips around it. You suck on it gently, softly moaning as your saliva coats his thumb.

At this point, it’s physically impossible for him to look more pleased with himself. Honestly, it seemed like he took more enjoyment from watching you slip farther into his grasp than he did from the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him.

Once he’s all the way in, completely buried in your warm, wet embrace, the hand that had been guiding his cock slides up. He gently thumbs your clit, grinning as your sweet mewls become the slightest bit louder.

He begins dragging himself in and out, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping him, sucking him in. It seems you only clamp down harder as he plays with your pretty little bundle of nerves. He keeps toying with it as his hips work back and forth.

Your eyes flutter, becoming half-lidded with the smooth stream of pleasure flowing through you. You whimper and whine while still sucking on his thumb. He started to repeatedly tease pulling it out before pushing it all the way in, nearly gagging you.

“So precious, aren’t you?” he whispers, leaning forward.

Your thighs are now pressed to your chest. His cock so deep it reaches places you didn’t even know about. He picks up the pace a bit, balls smacking against you with each move. To your dismay, he removes his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down and smearing spit down your chin. Your disappointment is only momentary as he’s quick to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His soft lips move against your wet ones while he continues pumping deep. Your head swims with the pleasure he provides. Everything becomes a soft warm haze as he toys with your clit and stretches you out. The gentle kisses combine with the tender feeling of his warm skin sliding against yours.

“Gonna have to do this every time you get bratty, baby. Keep you dumb on my cock, exactly where you should be, making sure you don’t get outta line,” he grunts, eyes closing as a wave of pleasure hits him, “This all you needed, just some time with Daddy.”

You nod lazily, all hopes of keeping a resistant exterior up gone out the window. “More kisses, Daddy,” you mumble as you connect your lips in a messy kiss.

He chuckles at the lack of resistance left in you. He returns your nod and indulges you. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting your own as you make out.

It’s all so good. You can’t get enough. Everything is him right now. It’s all for him. You know you’re getting close and so does he. He can feel the way your pussy rhythmically constricts around him. It’s working him closer too, but he can’t let it end yet. Not before he gets to the final step.

His movements become strategic. You’re teetering on the edge, getting enough pleasure to keep you whining and clutching at him, but not enough for that final push to heaven. Just one more stroke in the right wave, and you know you could get there.

While your head continues to fog up from his efforts, he pulls away from kissing you. He nestles his head in between yours and the couch cushion.

“You know, honey, now that we’re seeing eye to eye, I think I should let you in on something,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across your ear.

“Mmm, what?” you ask. You were only half paying attention, too caught up in the heat of the moment.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, sweet thing,” he rasps.

“Really?” you ask, unsure why he was bringing this up but choosing to go along with it in your dreamy state. He had been dating your mom for a while, so maybe he had this little infatuation for longer than you thought.

“Mhm, earlier than I think you know,” he says with a nip to your earlobe.

“That’s nice,” you murmur and nuzzle your face against his hair, breathing in his scent.

“Aren’t you curious when? When was the first time I saw your pretty face? The first time I wanted to slide into this tight pussy?” he murmurs.

“When?” you ask. You tried to feign interest, but fuck, you really just wanted to cum.

“I remember it, clear as day. It was at a party, you remember that guy from high school who had the 3D tv in his basement. It was at his house. You were down there, looking so fucking cute, talking to some douchebag. And I heard you talking to him. About Fortnite,” he says.

You just nod and moan. You honestly didn’t even remember that he went to your high school, but you didn’t really care at the moment. It still felt so good, him drilling in and out of you. You just couldn’t help but wonder why he thought now was the time to bring this up.

“You told that guy your gamer tag. But I realized I also remembered that name. I had played a match with you before. You beat me, stole my victory royale,” he says with a soft laugh.

“Umm… ok,” you reply, totally lost and not just because your mind was all cloudy from being railed into the couch.

“Tell me, honey: do you remember the name rookiepillz?” he asks.

“No?” you say. Was this really the time for this conversation? That was all you could think. But before you could voice your complaint his hand starts rubbing your clit again with even more pressure than before. All words in your throat tangle up into a string of whimpers.

“You should. I sent you a message after that game. Told you ‘I’m gonna fuck you and your mom sweaty,’” he says with a particularly hard thrust, “Well, look at us now.”

You listen, absolutely lost, until the dots start connecting. You turn your head to look at him, not believing this was real. You did remember that message. It made you and your friends giggle for the next hour, created an inside joke for the next few years.

“No way,” you say. You try to keep your voice even, but despite his insane words, his cock was still hitting just right, “Rookie- fuck! Rookiepillz?”

He puts in a couple of those strokes that hit just right, brushed all your sweet spots, filled you up the perfect amount. All the while his thumb rubs your clit in tiny, quick circles. You couldn’t hold on. A sharp cry leaves you as you gush around his cock. You grip the couch for support as your body rolls with the rush.

“Yes way, sweetheart. Rookiepillz,” he grunts.

When most of the high has finished and you’re starting to come down, you open your eyes and look up at him with disbelief. He’s grinning, so satisfied that he’s gotten the last laugh.

“Wha- you’re… you’re fucking insane… literally why would you remember that? And why would you take it so seriously? It’s Fortnite!” you moan, still feeling the aftershocks of your release.

“I play the long game, baby, and I play to win,” he moans as a strained expression washes over his face. He snaps his hips a few more times before slamming in all the way with one final thrust. “This is my ultimate victory royale.”

With that, he empties himself inside you, hot cum flooding your cunt. You whimper yet again. It still felt good even if you just found out his motivation behind all of this was borderline psychotic.

He pumps in and out a few more times before pulling out. His chest puffs with deep breaths on top of yours. Both of you lay together in silence for a few moments. What had just happened? You could barely even comprehend it. Instead of driving yourself as crazy as he is by dwelling on it, you shove him off of you. You get up and start putting on your clothes again.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you say.

He laughs and sits up on the couch. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun, baby,” he says while stretching, “You were such a good girl for your daddy.”

Your eyes widen and cheeks burn with embarrassment at his teasing. God, why had you ever said that? Now that you weren’t all worked up, you just wanted to go back in time and kick your own ass for even thinking of giving in.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

He stands up, still laughing and clearly on top of the world with his “victory.” You smooth out your outfit as he starts putting his own clothing back on. He holds up his belt and cracks it teasingly.

“Watch your mouth, there’s still time before your mother gets home. That sweet ass might not have enough marks,” he taunts.

You shoot him a glare before storming out of the room.

“Oh come on, babe. If you’re not into that, maybe we could play some Fortnite?” he calls.

[aveloka-draws]

I'm not even that interested in boyfailure squid but

ngh

anyway.

(Pre-apology for the ramble, but you seem to enjoy these, so.)

Another ask was about how in this comic Kallaboy could've been suddenly feeling love from a mortal perspective, and I agree, but also disagree.

It's not that I think CotL gods don't experience love the same way, but that when mortal lives are so short compared to their own, it's hard for that love to be practiced the same way. It's a bit different when you love someone who may as well be gone the next day to a god, vs when mortals decide to spend a percentage of their limited lifetime together with a partner.

I could see this scene as Kallamar being uncomfortably and forcefully aware of mortal instincts and how it likely strengthens his natural cowardliness and fears of death, and him assuming that's also how all other mortals feel due to lack of or outdated experience being one.

I bet Kallaboy was planning this whole scenario out before enacting it, deciding that since he's experiencing mortal fear of death, that Saleos would be experiencing it the same way. He's not taking into account how Saleos has acted towards his own death before, nor the ways in which others loyal to a god might offer their lives to their god.

In short, Kallamar is being incredibly mortal, by forgetting that mortals vary wildly based on personality and other things like devotion.

Before this scene, I bet he'd likely expect some posturing, a bit of threatening, but no actual follow through happening. Either assuming his own threatening/words would be enough to get the result, even if Saleos was unwilling--or he's expecting to not have to care about the follow through. Just because he loves someone doesn't mean their eventual death isn't just something mundane and expected to a god, which is still sees himself as, right? He might have been expecting some feelings around betrayal, if he had to really push Saleos to shift back to worship of him, but nothing like what actually happened in this scene.

How Saleos immediately goes for the sacrifice, so quick that Kallamar barely has time to make the injury nonfatal, slams it home that Kallaboy 1) miscalculated BADLY, 2) almost lost someone who is incredibly useful to him, but also he cares deeply for, and 3) oh shit, he CARES like a mortal cares about whether someone lives or dies--which again, another miscalculation. His OWN death isn't the only death he's worried about now.

I think Kallamar here is experiencing a ton of mind/body betrayal in this scene, I mean his heart is probably going a mile a minute when he's unused to it reacting at all. I'm sure this is all hammering home that he is mortal, but woefully uneducated in How To Mortal.

Basically, imo Kallamar is:

[NEW FEAR UNLOCKED: LOVER'S DEATH] "--WTF????"

Eating this eating this devouring it yes yes y

[tesscourtes]

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

[grimm909]

Red Phone - Part 1

Hello everybody! I'm back and for good! Thank you all so much for your support and comments.

This is a work done especially in celebration of Halloween. Unfortunately, it was supposed to be something small, but again I ended up getting carried away and had to separate it into two parts (maybe three, since the story is still developing). The story will also be posted on a03

Happy reading!

WARNINGS: age difference, non-con, kidnapping, horror, mental breakdown, murder, forced pregnancy

It had been a week since you and your family had moved into a new house. It was large, but had a somewhat morbid appearance, probably due to the time it had been abandoned. Although her parents had renovated it to make the house more presentable, it wasn't exactly an inviting place from the outside. Well, just on the outside, since you really had to give credit for how fascinating she was on the inside.

For example, the attic was an interesting location when you first saw it; full of old and dusty boxes, representing that the previous owner of that place had simply abandoned it there without bothering to come back one day to pick it up. When you went to open the boxes together with your parents to organize that place, there were some interesting things inside like comic books, board games, old clothes and even some somewhat useless objects. Much of it would simply be donated, since you didn't have much interest in most of those things, apart from comics and books.

However, something tucked into the bottom of one of the boxes and carefully wrapped in a piece of black fabric aroused his curiosity. A red phone cordless. Just an old-fashioned device, which was only used for calls and which would probably never pique anyone's interest due to how useless it was compared to a digital cell phone. However, it was curious to see that even though it had been abandoned for years, the device has a appearance new, the blood red color of the device still being quite shiny. It was quite pretty, you had to admit.

When you showed the device to your parents, they both didn't show much interest, although they were surprised to see that it still worked, even after years and years of abandoned it inside. They said you could stay if you wanted, even though it wasn't really useful to you due to the fact that already had a cell phone. You analyzed the device and said that it could be useful if at some point your cell phone stopped working and there was some precision. This would probably never actually happen.

What harm would it do to have it, right?

[…]

You wake up at midnight with your red phone ringing. It was the first time it had rung since you obted gotten it three days ago, since you were the one who normally made the calls.

Trying as hard as possible to get out of bed, you walk over to the phone that was on your desk and answer it.

"Hello?" You ask hoarsely.

“Koebi-chan, I'm so close to you.” A male voice whispers on the other end of the line. It doesn't sound like the voice of anyone you know. “I’m finally going to see what you look like.”

You remain silent for a while, absorbing what that must mean, but quickly concluding that it must just be a wrong call.

“Sorry sir, I think you called…” You didn’t finish your sentence when the call simply fell

Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, you don't care enough about the mystery man, placing your phone back in its place and returning to bed.

[…]

Two months have passed since you and your parents moved into the new house, so you already know a little about your neighbor across the street.

Ace was his name.

He was the only person closest to his house, with no one else around. A handsome man who appeared to be around thirty years old, married to a woman whose name was Elisa and having a ten year old daughter named Alice.

The two of you got along relatively well due to the older's playful personality, which reminded you more of a teenager than an adult.

You always greeted him every time you saw him across the street, also smiling and waving at him whenever you saw him through your bedroom window, since through it you had a complete view of Ace's house.

His wife and daughter were also sociable people and you wich especially became attached to the child, loving to take care of her when Ace and his wife left the house to have some alone time as a couple.

Alice also seemed to like you a lot, almost always knocking on your door so you could play together. Sometimes you accepted and other times you refused because you needed to study for college, in the latter case always earning a sad pout from the little girl.

The red phone rings at eight o'clock at night. The only difference from the first time is that you are not sleeping, but taking notes sitting at your desk.

"Hello?" You answer without blinking and lift the phone to your ear.

“Crab?” The male voice on the other line asks.

"Who?" You respond, confusion written all over your face.

“Isn’t that Ace Trappola’s number?”

"No. You called his neighbor.”

The voice is silent for a moment.

“There are no other neighbors besides Crab.”

“By Crab, you mean Ace?” Even though you think that's exactly what it is, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

”The same person~” He drawls.

“I've been Ace's neighbor for about three months. I moved recently.” You calmly explained, tapping your pen on your notebook. You were new to the neighborhood, so this stranger must have bee confused.

“There’s no one else but my family and Crab’s family here.” The voice says in a frustrated or perhaps nervous tone, you can't quite place it.

“I think there was some mistake. What’s your address?” You ask confused, starting to consider it was a prank.

The male voice gives you the location and you let out a tired sigh, realizing that it really was a stupid joke.

“You just described my address.”

The voice on the other end of the line becomes silent once again, until it breaks into laughter.

“Hehehehe, good Grab. I don’t know what you used to change your voice, but it almost got me.”

He says one last time, before hanging up on your face.

[…]

The stranger's call had piqued his curiosity. Were there really no neighbors around? The next day you explained the situation to your mother, who agreed that it could be a prank, since no one really lived close to there anymore. It was a considerably isolated place and far from everything.

“What about the previous owner of the house?” You asked the older woman who had her back turned, washing the lunch dishes.

“The previous owners sold it to a real estate agent.” His mother stated. “The agent who sold me the house just said that after that some other people came to live here, but that after a few years they usually sold it.”

"Just that?" You were displeased, expecting something more impactful.

“I was more interested in how many rooms the house had than who had lived here before.” She laughed nasally.

You would gain no more useful information from your mother and decided that the next place you would explore would be the attic, where there were five more boxes left that had not been opened.

Maybe it was a fruitless search, maybe you were just wasting time, but the man you had talked to didn't seem like a total liar, like he really had conviction in what he was saying. He even knew Ace's first and last name and you doubted your neighbor was playing a prank with you — it would be quite old-fashioned for a man of that age.

You turn on the attic light and open the first box, spilling all the things inside on the dusty floor, finding nothing that would help you learn more about the house. The second box was simply full of old clothes that were too big for you. The third is where you find a kind of notebook, but when reading its contents you don't find anything truly interesting or that indicates the owner of it.

Clank

Turning another page, a piece of paper falls out and you pick it up from the floor, realizing it is an old photograph faded at the edges. Analyzing the image, it seemed to be a family, consisting of the mother, the father and two completely identical children. On the back of the photo was the date it was taken, along with a small statement that probably referenced the two boys in that photo.

Clank

02/22/2009

My beautiful treasures, ♡Floyd♡ and ♡Jade♡

Even with the information obtained, that didn't seem like enough, especially when you didn't even have their last name. You decide to continue exploring the rest of the boxes, but you don't have the same success as before.

Clank

Putting everything back in its place, you decide to keep the photo for research purposes, keeping it in your pants pocket. Darkness encompasses the room when you turn off the light.

Clank

Going down the attic stairs, that's when you notice a strange sound coming from it, resembling two objects hitting each other. You decide to go back to check what it could be, turning on the light again and finding nothing that could hint at the reason for the noise.

Clank

You feel something fall on your head and run your hand over it to remove any insects that may have gotten into your hair. However, it is not exactly “something” that falls, but rather crumbs that appeared to be wood. Crumbs that continued to fall on the ground around him and on his head.

Clank

You go to the other side of the attic that was free of that dust and look up, expecting to find some termites eating away at the ceiling. However, it was something much worse than mere termites.

Something that could not be seen or touched.

Invisible hands carve the ceiling letter by letter, slowly forming an entire sentence.

JADE IS AN IDIOT BITCH

[…]

That number does not exist.

That's what appeared on the red phone screen when you tried to call the same number that called you last night. Even though he had the number saved on his phone, every time he pressed the button to call back, it was always the same message.

Honestly, at this point in the tournament, you didn't doubt that the house or the phone were haunted, not after what you had seen in the attic. Of course, upon witnessing such a scene, you just hurriedly fled, locking yourself in your room and determined to never set foot up there again.

You were scared of what this could be. However, his curiosity still continued to speak louder than any other feeling. Furthermore, you couldn't even run away from that house, since there was nowhere else to go and your parents would never believe that story about a strange message having suddenly appeared in the attic. His only option at the moment was to stay and find out what the hell was going on.

Therefore, all you could do was wait until the mysterious boy called again.

[…]

The red phone rings at midnight and you hurriedly put down your notebook and pen to put your hands on it, answering it without thinking twice.

"Hello!?" You say in a mix of fear and euphoria.

“So close…” The voice on the other end sounded breathless, almost as euphoric as you were.

“Close to what?” You ask, still unable to recognize who the man on the other end of the line was, even though you knew it was the same voice who had called you the first time.

“Close… pouʇ… of …ʇɹnsʇ… Let’s go …ɥᴉɯ… Together” You can’t hear it properly, the horrible sound of static playing in the background. “You just… ɯnɹ… pǝɹǝɹ… stay on the phone”

The call drops and you look at the small phone screen, noticing strange glitches. You hit his side with the palm of your hand, trying to get him back to normal.

After a few seconds, the static stops.

[…]

At six o'clock the next day, the red phone rings.

However, unlike last time, you seem a little afraid to answer. Maybe that device was the reason for the start of his problems, that was almost certain. You had even seriously thought about setting that thing on fire, maybe then the bizarre things would stop. Still, a part of you refused to do that, thinking it might end up making the situation worse instead of better.

You decide to follow the unknown man's instructions, even though you didn't trust him. Maybe he was a ghost who had possessed that cell phone and was now haunting you, you were starting to come up with some insane theories.

"Hello?"

“Ah, it’s the same voice as before.” The guy on the other line says uninterested.

"Yes. But don’t hang up, please.” You say as politely as possible. “It’s not a prank and I’m not Ace.”

“I know it’s not.” He responds back. “I spoke to Crab yesterday and he was quite confused, saying that this wasn’t even his number anymore.”

"Great." You sighed in relief. “Look, it might be hard to believe, but the address you gave me is actually the same as the one I live at.” You looked out your bedroom window and saw Ace playing with his daughter in the backyard. “My house is literally opposite his.”

“Eehh, mine too.” The boy spoke from the other side, not seeming to fully believe you. “Or would it be ours?” He laughed.

“Could you tell me your name?” You ask, taking the photo you had collected from the attic out of your desk drawer.

“Floyd Leech. And you?"

You turn the verse and see that the name was the same, but you don't know how to describe which of the twins he would be in the photo. The date on which it was taken also arouses your curiosity and you again begin to think that this whole situation was perhaps a bad joke. Could it be that the former resident of that house, Floyd, was just playing a welcome prank on you?

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” The voice on the other end gets louder when you take a long time rambling.

“Sorry, I just got distracted by something.” You prefer not to talk about the photo at hand. “My name is Y/n.”

“Never heard of it.” His disinterested tone returns to the surface.

“Yes, I had never heard of you either until today” That wasn’t entirely true, as you had discovered the photo a few hours ago. “I know it sounds strange, but could you tell me today’s date?”

“What, are you that lost in time?” He laughed. “Seriously, what did you smoke?”

“I swear I’m quite sane.” You respond sharply, but return to a calmer tone of voice, not wanting him to hang up the phone again. “Tell me today’s date, please.”

“Asking me so affectionately like that, I can’t refuse.” He jokes, using a more sly tone. “Today is 04/20/2009”

You cough, choking on your own saliva.

“Exactly at six-fifteen in the afternoon?” You look at the clock on the wall in your room.

“You got it~”

The phrase that appeared in the attic appears in his head like a puzzle piece to be fitted into that mystery. You had thought about the possibility that it was a vengeful ghost writing that, but upon reflection, it was more like an angry brother writing something stupid about his other brother.

“Something appeared in the attic yesterday.” You revealed. “A message that said: Jade is a stupid bitch. Did you do it?”

There is a short silence on the other side.

“How do you know that, huh!?” The previously sly voice suddenly turns into something threatening and you briefly withdraw the phone from your ear. “You’ve been spying on me, bitch!” He spits and you swear that if he were in front of you, that guy would definitely move towards you.

"No! I’m not spying on anyone.” You state with conviction, using your other hand to search your digital cell phone for any information that occurred on the same date that Floyd informed you. “I know it's hard to believe, but it's possible that we are in the same house, in different years.” It doesn't take long for you to find news that matches the date. “At nine o’clock, a plane will crash north of Chica-…”

“You and Jade are making fun of me, aren’t you!?” The boy on the other side looked like he was going to explode with rage. “Tell him to go fuck himself!”

You no longer have a chance to explain yourself, when he hangs up on you again.

[…]

The next day, you look for Ace to talk about the house's previous residents. You knock on his door, but are answered by Alice.

“Come to play with me?” The little girl asks happily, jumping up and down in anticipation.

“Sorry, I just came here to talk to Ace about something.” You break the illusion of the little girl, who makes a sulky expression and goes back into the house, screaming for her father.

It doesn't take long for him to appear in front of you, closing the door behind him and walking with you to the curb.

“Mom said you’ve lived here for several years. Does that mean you got to know the first residents?” You asked bluntly.

"Yes. They were a reserved family, a little strange and even scary, I would say.” He let out a nasal laugh, as if remembering something amusing.

“I found this photo.” You take the photograph from your pants pocket, handing it to Ace who promptly takes it. “It’s them, isn’t it?”

“Ah, man, I barely remembered the faces.” He spoke in surprise, a little nostalgic. “But it’s them, yes.”

“On the back it says Jade and Floyd, but I don’t know who is who. They are identical.”

“Hehe, if you look closely, you will notice subtle differences in each one.” He comes to stand next to you and holds out the photo for you to observe the details. “See, this is Jade who is smiling without showing her teeth, with her hands together in front of her body and correct posture. He was always the most reserved and eloquent, sometimes he even seemed like a butler.” He laughed and you followed him, infected by the energetic laugh that Ace had. “This is Floyd…” The redhead’s tone seemed less enthusiastic and more morbid for a moment, but you thought it was just a bad impression, as he soon returned to his usual playful normality as he talked about the other brother. “Relaxed expression and hand behind the head. Man, he was a whirlwind, the total opposite of his brother.”

"I imagine." You nodded, remembering how he snapped yesterday afternoon. “But why did they move?”

“Well…” Ace handed you the photo. “A tragedy occurred with the family” He sighed heavily, seeming to not like that story. “One of the sons ended up dying.”

His breath came ragged from the shock.

“But… how?” You asked, disbelieved.

“A motorcycle accident.” Ace shrugged. “The mourning was very much for the Leech family, mainly because they were all very united.”

“That’s why they moved?”

“I think they wanted to start again, somewhere else.” He theorized. “Honestly, I would have done the same.”

“But which of the brothers ended up dying in this accident?” You asked, apprehensive about the answer.

No, you already knew the answer.

“Floyd Leech.”

[…]

The accident had occurred on 04/30/2009

Since the days of the past and present were the same, this meant that Floyd would end up dying in seven days.

Shortly after talking to Ace, you returned home and did some research on your laptop to find out more about what had happened. In addition to finding out the date, you had discovered that Floyd died at the scene of the accident, before the ambulance could even provide assistance. Bones broken and fractured, his body had been completely torn apart.

If you still had doubts that this could be a joke, that possibility simply evaporated without a trace. You didn't just seem to be messing with the supernatural, but also with the timeline. That, or the house was haunted by the spirit of young Floyd who never passed on to the afterlife. Well, you hoped it was the first theory, since the latter was pretty scary and there weren't any ghostbusters you could call.

Your only option at that moment was to wait for Floyd to call you again before that date. You wanted to try to save him from that horrible fate, even though you were doubtful about the time lapse it could bring. If you saved him, would you still be living in the same house? Would you end up forgetting everything that happened, including Ace and Alice?

You had watched countless time travel movies and, honestly, the possibilities were endless.

[…]

The red phone rings at four o'clock.

You were in the shower, but you interrupt to hurriedly grab the towel and wrap it over your wet body, leaving a trail of water as you leave the suite and head to your room. You rub your wet hand under the towel before picking it up, worried that you might end up damaging the phone through sheer lack of attention.

"Hello?"

“How did you know?” It was Floyd. You were aware he was asking about the plane crash.

“I saw it on the internet.” You replied simply. “I’m in the same house as you, but fifteen years ahead.”

“What else do you know about me?”

“Honestly, nothing.” You shake your head in denial, even though you know he couldn't see you. “But I know what will happen to you.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, looking annoyed.

“On the twenty-eighth of this month, you will have a motorcycle accident.” You respond impassively. “A truck runs over you and you die before they can even help.” Although it would be a little cruel to say something so scary unceremoniously, you didn't want to beat around the bush. Everything now simply depended on whether Floyd believed you or not. “I would never joke about something so serious.” You finally say.

"I believe." You mentally thank him for the vote of confidence. “But why are you living in my house?”

“My mother recently bought this house from a real estate agent. The first family to live here sold it fifteen years ago, which coincides with the time you had the accident.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” From the tone of his voice, Floyd sounded worried.

“I found out about your brother through a photo I found in the attic” Which was still kept on his desk. “I did some quick research. Apparently he is a partner in a restaurant chain called Mostro Lounge. Quite impressive!”

“Aaah, so he did well.” Floyd didn't really seem surprised by his brother's success. “Cool~”

“I’m sure you too can have a cool future if you stay at home or take your motorcycle in for repairs.” You advise him gently. “Since the accident occurred due to a clutch failure.”

“Eehh, I just lent Crabby the bike until the weekend” Floyd looked annoyed. “I can’t believe that idiot is going to end up breaking her.”

“Haha…” You laughed awkwardly. “As soon as he returns it to you, just take it to be repaired.”

“Why are you helping me?” He questions, seeming really curious about that act of kindness coming from a stranger.

“I can stop someone from dying. I think anyone else would do the same in my place.” You shrugged. “And from what I saw in your family photo, you're still too young to go to the afterlife so soon” You laughed, trying to relax to make the situation less gloomy. “How old are you, Floyd?”

“Twenty years.”

"Coincidence. Me too."

“Do you think that’s one of the reasons we’re breaking the rules of spacetime?” He laughed nasally and you followed him with a brief giggle.

“To tell the truth, I think it’s because of the house or a red phone I found in the attic.” You theorized, choosing not to think about it anymore. “Maybe both.”

“A red cordless phone?”

“That one.” You confirmed, surprised.

“He is mine. The same one I’m using to talk to you.”

Okay, the weirdness hadn't stopped.

“Did you happen to throw some voodoo on him?” You joked and heard him laughing on the other end.

“If I was capable of something like that, I don’t think I would have died, right?” He replied back, dejectedly.

“Hehe, yeah…” The mood took a turn for the worse once again and you were forced to think of something to change the situation or simply hang up, since you were making the whole room wet. “Look, I’m not able to return your call, much less call you directly. So could you call me the day after tomorrow at the same time?”

"Of course~" His mood appears to have improved, to which Floyd responded excitedly. “I really want to know what the future looks like in fifteen years.”

[…]

The next day, you knocked on your neighbor's door again, this time being answered by Ace's wife.

Today you were committed to taking care of little Alice, since the older woman was going to visit her parents and only return the next day. And Trappola would not be able to take care of her daughter, as he would only arrive after six o'clock.

“You’re on time.” Elisa commented with a friendly smile.

“I like to be punctual!” You stated excitedly. “Are you leaving yet?”

"Yes. I won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.” She hands him the house key. “There is food in the fridge if you want to eat, just heat it in the microwave.”

You nod in agreement, waving goodbye to Elisa as she gets into the car and starts it.

You enter the house you were already familiar with and lock the door, finding Alice in the living room watching TV.

“Hi, aunt.” She greets without looking at you, too engrossed in what was playing on the screen.

“Do you prefer to play or watch?” Looking at the screen, you recognized it as the little mermaid movie.

“It starts now!” She turned her head towards him and made those irresistible pious eyes. “Make some popcorn and come watch with me.”

You are unable to deny her request, doing what the girl asks you and after a few minutes returning to the room with a bucket full of popcorn. Already knowing the things that would happen, you weren't very excited about watching the film again, but the songs were still good to listen to and you even found yourself singing one of them together with Alice.

When the film ends, she decides that now she wants to play with dolls, picking up a beautiful plastic baby that was sitting in a child's chair.

“Look, auntie, it’s my new doll!” Alice said happily, practically rubbing the new toy in you face. “She even talks!” The girl presses the doll's chest with both thumbs.

Mommy, I love you.

"Cool!" You feign excitement at the irritatingly childish voice coming out of the object. Dolls hadn't been her thing for years.

“I’ll get another doll upstairs for us to play.” Alice places the toy in you lap and runs upstairs.

Being left alone with that silly toy, you squeeze the doll's chest to hear what other phrases she had.

Let's play!

You squeeze again.

Mommy, I'm hungry.

Again.

Can we go to the park?

One more time.

If you keep going, he'll come get you.

You are startled and let the doll fall from your hands, hurriedly getting up from the floor and moving away. For a moment, you fear that thing will rise up and start attacking you, similar to the killer doll movie. However, seconds pass and the toy remains stagnant on the floor, as lifeless as it always was.

Something in the previously said phrase arouses your curiosity and you raise an eyebrow, wondering who would come to pick you up or if it was just some hideous factory defect, as even the toy's irritating voice had become less childish and more morbid.

Even though you were afraid, you approached and picked her up, squeezing the doll's chest again to see what else she could say.

Mommy, I love you.

You snort, annoyed.

[…]

Ace arrives at eight o'clock, a little later than usual.

“Alice is already in bed.” You tell him as you watch him take off his dress shoes and coat, placing the latter on the hanger.

“Sorry to make you stay late.” He laughs awkwardly and you can tell by the expression on his face that the redhead looks haggard.

“Oh, no. It’s ok.” You reassure him with a gentle smile. “You look tired, is everything okay?”

“It’s just the job.” Ace lets out a heavy sigh, walks over to the sofa you were sitting on and sprawls his body on it, arms completely open under the upholstery.

“What exactly do you do?” You ask curiously, as you never knew about your neighbor's job.

"Counter." Ace responds dejectedly.

You also don't help improve his mood when you burst into laughter, disbelieving that this was the cynical Ace's profession.

"Hey!" The redhead exclaims, annoyed that you're laughing in his face.

“I’m sorry, but this doesn’t suit you at all.” Wiping a tear from your eye, you continue laughing in a less outrageous way.

“Obviously not.” He snorts. “But it’s not like I had a lot of choices.”

"What do you mean?" Calmer after the explosion of laughter, you ask intrigued.

“I was twenty-three when Elisa became pregnant with Alice.” Ace looks towards the stairs where the rooms were, turns his attention to you and lowers his voice. “It was an accident.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, surprised.

“Because of that, I dropped out of college and got a job so I could take care of the baby-”

“College of what?” Although it would be appropriate to continue listening to your friend's story without interrupting, your curiosity gets the better of you and your mouth moves before you can even think.

“Nah, you’ll laugh.”

"No! I won’t, I promise.” You bring your index fingers together to form an “x”, bringing them to your mouth. “Tell me!”

"Teacher." He responds without much ceremony.

You actually keep your promise and don't laugh, but you are truly incredulous that this would be the profession chosen by the mischievous Ace.

“Professor Ace Trappola.” You say slowly, testing how the taste of those words sound to your ears. “Sounds good.”

“Do you think so?” He smiles, apparently more excited by those simple words.

Yes yes." You agree smiling. “But tell me more! What’s the rest of the story?” You question, curious to know more about the redhead's life.

“After two years, Elisa and I got married. We thought it would be good if we got our shit together.” He shrugs and becomes discouraged again. “We already had a baby, we just needed the rings.”

"I'm very sorry." You say painfully, although you didn't know exactly why you were sorry. Maybe because Ace's dreams never came true? For the years lost in a life he never wanted?

“It’s okay, I kind of like being a father.” He gave you a sincere smile and you knew Ace wasn't lying.

“What about Elisa?”

“I like her too.” He responds without the sincere smile from before, just a blank facet. There was no sparkle in his eyes when he mentioned his own wife, you noticed. “You know, I saw you yesterday.” Ace suddenly changes the subject, straightening his posture on the couch to face you.

"As? I didn’t even leave the house.” You raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“In the window, answering an old phone.” A dirty little smile appears on Ace's lips and you feel like you were missing something.

It still takes a few seconds to understand exactly when that happened, until the penny falls heavily on your head.

“Oh, my God!” You cover your face with the palms of your hands, too embarrassed to look at the redhead. “I’m not a pervert, I swear it was accidental!”

“Hahaha.” It's his turn to laugh about your misfortune and it makes you feel even worse, groaning in annoyance between your fingers. Seeing that you really felt bad about that, Ace immediately stopped laughing. “Okay, okay.” He holds your wrists delicately, gradually lowering the hands that covered your face so that you can face him again. Seeing him now, he seemed to have gotten even closer to you face. “Honestly, I liked the view.” The redhead gives you that stupid smile again.

“Hmm.” You just moan in agreement, still embarrassed and not knowing exactly how to react to Ace's compliment.

“You’re kind of bad at reading the climate.” He laughs one last time, before closing his eyes and breaking the distance that separated your lips from his.

Ace is quick to wrap his tongue around yours when you opened your mouth a little in surprise from the sudden kiss, involuntarily allowing the redhead to explore the inside of your mouth.

Even though you're shocked, it doesn't take you more than three seconds to close your eyelids and let yourself be carried away by the moment. Their tongues come together in a delicate way, exactly like a calm sailing at sea.

His brain gradually fills with pleasure, which was provided by the kiss that became more steamy as time passed. His tongue moved with an impressive mastery that you never had with boys your age.

Inside you there was a damn explosion of happiness, which internally clashed with some bitter emotions present, but which were being furiously crushed as the kiss progressed from a peaceful way to a hotter and wetter one.

Ace didn't seem very distant, wanting you more and more to the point of wanting to become just one with you through your lips that he so wished to kiss. The redhead takes his hand to you head and sinks his fingers into you locks, giving more depth to the kiss, but also making the air in her lungs become increasingly scarce.

The fact that you both needed to breathe became an obstacle in the midst of the pleasure you felt, which forced Ace to stop the kiss and move away a little.

He carefully visualizes the delicate features of your face, as he had done so many times without you noticing, considering that your pink cheeks due to embarrassment or the possible ecstasy of the kiss left you very cute. However, the redhead's greatest attention ended up once again falling on his parted lips, which were now slightly swollen and red. Ace couldn't help but feel attracted and mesmerized by them again, as he had been for a long time.

After normalizing his breathing, he was going towards you for a second kiss, but you stopped him by putting your hand in front of his mouth, preventing Ace from kissing you again.

“Ace, you have a wife.” You do your best not to fall into temptation again.

Although you couldn't deny that you had some conflicted feelings regarding what you felt for Ace, it wasn't fair to stab Elisa in the back. You liked her and didn't want to be a home wrecker. Not only would it harm her, it would also harm little Alice.

"I understand." He says placidly, stepping back. “But Elisa and I are going to separate.”

"Huh!?" You face forms into a clearly confused expression.

“Before you even arrived, things were complicated.” He lets out a tired sigh. “She went to her parents’ house to stay away from me for a while.”

“Did something happen?” Maybe it was rude to ask, but you needed to know if that story was really true.

“We fought yesterday.” His shoulders slumped in dismay. “I wasn’t lying when I said I liked Elisa. I like, but I don't love her anymore.”

“Is it possible for someone to stop loving another person?” A line of disbelief forms on his forehead, doubtful that something like this would be possible between two people who have lived together for so many years.

“In my case, apparently yes.” He laughed half-heartedly. “Elisa and I stayed together for Alice and tried to stay together as a family for her.” The redhead looks away to look at his own bare feet. There was a light of regret and sadness in his crimson eyes. “But we hurt ourselves in the process.” You stay silent, feeling a little sorry for Ace and Elisa, but mostly for Alice. Trappola looks at you again and once again gets dangerously close to you, but he doesn't kiss you. Instead, he places one of his hands on the side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb in a clear sign of affection and kindness. "I want you."

You don't know exactly how to feel about this statement. The doubts were still present in his head and apparently the only way to dismiss them was to confirm the words previously said by Ace.

“Are you really going to break up? I don’t want to be a home wrecker, much less be your lover.” You firmly admit.

“In a month. Only a month left until the divorce papers are ready.”

In a bold and unpredictable move that you never expected to come out of your own mouth, the next words would surprise you when you remembered them the next day.

“Let’s go to your room.”

Trappola's crimson eyes shine and a smile of genuine happiness emerges from the corners of his mouth. He jumps off the couch and grabs your hand, dragging you upstairs.

[…]

Before you knew it, Ace already had his face buried between your legs.

His mouth was firmly attached to your intimacy, teasing hickeys with wet and obscene sounds, tasting every bit of your pussy to engrave the taste in his memory.

“You’re so hot.” Ace praises, placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh and then returning to attack her sensitive parts.

Even with one hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, you still moan loudly, feeling him focus exclusively on your clit, licking and sucking with such devotion that you can't stop yourself from taking your other free hand to locks Ace, squeezing a bundle of unruly red strands. He was very good at making your pussy the most appetizing thing in the world.

It had only been a few minutes since Ace was fucking you so fervently, but even in that short time you already felt the heat in your belly building up more and more, ready to explode. He was amazing at oral sex, probably due to years of experience. Your hand would never satisfy you in the same way again after experiencing the wonder that Ace mouth was capable of provi.

Trappola's teeth graze over your sensitive spot and you let out a whiny moan, drops of tears splashing your eyes due to the ecstasy you've never felt. Your soaked little hole was begging for a piece of meat, to the point where your warm, velvety walls tightened around nothing as Ace fucked you with his tongue.

You involuntarily lift your hips several times, while sparks of pleasure cross your body in a clear sign that you were close to finally reaching the fullness of pleasure.

“Ace I… Ah!… I… Ngh… I’m going to…” You remove your hand from in front of your mouth to warn him, but your moans were making it difficult for you to form a coherent sentence.

He looks deeply at you with his scarlet orbs filled with lust and possession, before pulling away to give you that stupid little smile and order in a husky voice.

“Cum for me, dear.” It's the last thing Ace says before he goes back to attacking your sensitive pussy with more frenzy than before, without taking his eyes off you.

You don't know if it's because of the eroticism of those words, the way he looks at you or even the most obvious reason that his mouth was on your vulva, but you scream and finally reach your limit. The knot that had formed in your abdomen dissolves in a hot orgasm and your hips rise again, at the same time that your entire body spasms constantly with pleasure.

Even after he has successfully made you cum, Ace continues to lick you more gently, sucking the clear fluid that comes out of your tight hole. He only moves away when he feels sufficiently satisfied, a thick thread of drool connecting your wet pussy to his mouth, but which soon falls apart the further away these two are.

“Please tell me your room has thick walls.” You inquire heavily, recovering from the newly felt high.

“Don’t worry about making loud noises.” Ace laughs and crawls until he is at the height of your face, kissing you and making you feel your own taste still present in the older man's mouth. Your arms circle around his neck and you reciprocate without any reluctance in that act.

Ace's hand roams your already fully naked body, sliding from your soft abdomen to your newly stimulated crotch, touching your hole. Upon noticing what he was about to do, you quickly close your legs and stop Trappola from continuing with his actions. You break the kiss and moderately push him away with your elbow, sitting on the bed.

“What’s the matter?” Ace asks as he puts his weight under his knees, clearly confused by your quick change in attitude.

“That's kind of embarrassing to say.” An awkward laugh passes your lips and you look away. “I’m still a virgin.”

Ace remains silent for about three seconds, before exclaiming in perplexity:

“Whoa, really?” He quickly removes his hand from between your legs.

“Yes, but I hope that’s not a problem for you.” You bite your bottom lip nervously and look back at him.

“Haha, that’s no problem at all.” Ace laughed, that beautiful energetic smile you loved so much adorning the mature features of his face. “I’m just surprised by that. I mean, you’re so pretty.” You were taken aback by the compliment and your face heated up as you watched the way he looked at you affectionately.

“I don’t want you to take my virginity with your fingers.” You laughed at your own words, quickly changing the subject. Honestly, you didn't want to ruin the mood by commenting on your practically non-existent love life. “And honestly, I think I’m already wet enough to welcome you.” You direct your eyes to Ace's intimacy, noticing a voluminous bulge in his underwear, as well as a dark stain on the tip of his cock protruding forward. "Do you have a condom?"

“Look, married people don’t use condoms.” He mocked with a stupid little smile.

Shit.

“Seriously, I always told myself I would never do this without a condom.” You laughed, disbelieving that you would end up breaking the only rule you had made when you had your first time. However, even more disbelieved given how much you trusted Ace to give in so easily without even thinking twice.

“Does that mean?” Ace inquires expectantly.

You respond to him with actions, lying back on the bed and vulgarly opening your legs, exposing your intimate area with the clear intention of someone waiting to be fucked.

Trappola swallows hard, feeling his cock throb at how beautifully erotic you were as you so willingly gave yourself to him. Even kneeling on the bed, Ace is quick, practically euphoric in getting rid of the only piece of clothing that prevented him from fucking you. The redhead positions himself above you and places one hand on your hip, while the other is responsible for guiding his own cock towards your slippery hole.

“Can I?” Ace checks before taking any action, although his breathing was clearly heavy, yearning to fuck you.

"Yes." You say a little shyly, even though your actions so far have been quite naughty.

With the confirmation Ace needed, he slowly pushes his erect member inside you, sighing in delight at finally being able to feel your warm, velvety walls wrapped around his cock.

On the other hand, the sensation was a little strange at first, until it became painful as Trappola advanced further inside, breaking your hymen and then filling you with his cock. The length of Ace's member inside your vaginal canal was more than acceptable, but you squeeze the bed sheets between your fingers and let out a low moan of pain.

"You are incredible." Ace comments with restrained euphoria, marveling at having you all to himself. However, upon noticing his expression of pain, he asks worriedly. “Does it hurt?”

"A little." You shift uncomfortably in bed. “But you can continue.” You calm down with a sweet smile on your lips, not minding being a little hasty even after having graduated from your virginity literally seconds ago. You hands circle around the redhead's neck again and bring him for you lips touch his in a warm kiss.

He reciprocates immediately, but it doesn't take long for Ace to pull away from your mouth and decide it's time to move after feeling his cock throb in excitement, practically begging to be moved and finally fuck you rough.

The redhead moves his hips away a little, enough so that half of his rigid penis remains outside your gummy walls, then returns entirely inside you with a hard thrust all the way to the bottom. Ace lets out a heavy sigh as soon as he receives a delicious grip around his member, intensely loving that pleasurable sensation of a young pussy like yours.

However, this action was responsible for causing you to gasp in pain, but unlike the first time it was completely ignored by Ace, as he no longer cared about trying to be gentle after you yourself approved that he continued to fuck you.

Addicted to getting more of those delicious squeezes, Ace successively starts to do the same actions mentioned above, but in a slower back and forth so that he doesn't reach orgasm so soon. After all, he didn't imagine that you virgin pussy would be so hot.

You periodically continue to let out one or another moan of pain, without having yet been able to feel any trace of pleasure in it, although it is no longer as agonizing as it was at first. Trying to feel as good as Ace felt when he fucked you, you take one of your hands towards your clitoris, rubbing it with your index and middle fingers. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as spikes of delight begin to circulate through your body even in the midst of the feeling of agony.

“Still bothered?” Ace laughs softly when he realizes what was happening and removes his hand so he can take care of the situation himself, too proud to let you pleasure yourself. “Let me do this for you.” He asks, at the same time that Ace's thumb touches your sensitive spot, making rotating movements with a fixation much greater than you could alone.

“Oh!” You exclaim not only in surprise, but also in jubilation. Touching herself felt good, but being touched by someone else felt even better, bringing her a never-before-felt feeling of ecstasy.

The older man bends down a little and dips his face into the side of your neck, licking and leaving marks of love on your previously immaculate skin. A heavy sigh escapes your lips and your previously rigid body begins to relax on the bed as Ace continues to stimulate you in different ways. His dick inside you wasn't so bad anymore, starting to become less strange and more dizzying.

“Ace, this feels so good.” You say with a ragged breath, enchanted by how sex could be something wonderful and addictive. You didn't regret giving your virginity to Trappola one bit.

“I feel good too.” Ace whispers close to your ear, before gently biting your earlobe in teasing. A pleasant shiver runs through your body through this action and you reciprocate by biting his neck gently, weak enough to not leave marks. You wouldn't be stupid enough to do that when Ace was still married. “Oh, how cute.” He comments with a wicked laugh and you are indignant, taking revenge on him by putting a little more pressure against the redhead's skin, consequently hearing him moan in pain. “I take back what I said.”

You both laugh through sex, captivated by each other. However, Ace breaks the romantic mood by pulling away and removing his still hard penis from inside you. A groan leaves your lips, dissatisfied by the sudden absence of your intimacy.

“It’s okay, I won’t stop.” Ace soothes by kissing the top of his head. “But wouldn’t you like to try other positions?” He suggests, but before you can say anything, Trappola easily handles your body that had been claimed by himself, placing you on your side and positioning himself behind you, resulting in the redhead's penis touching the soft and warm skin of your buttock. Ace appreciates the slightest touch, letting out a sigh and feeling terribly tempted to give you a bite in that area, but deciding to leave that for another time. “What do you think?” He asks, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck.

“As long as it’s good…” You mutter without having an opinion of your own due to a complete lack of experience.

Ace slowly passes his hand down the length of your incredibly hot body, starting at your shoulder, sliding down your waist, feeling your hip and hovering over your thigh, lifting the latter without the slightest difficulty so that he could have better access to your hole and thus calm down his greedy hormones.

You were so deliciously wet, that Ace's member practically slid inside, being immediately massaged by your pussy that already responded to his thrust. Feeling like that, stretching and welcoming him as if Ace's member was already a natural part of your body, was like pouring gasoline on a fire.

It was inevitable. He felt the need to move quickly inside. And with a powerful thrust of his hips, the redhead delighted in feeling the limits of his tight intimacy, at the same time as he was gifted with a heavy moan from you, which only served to elevate his ego even more.

Ace's other free hand reached under your body to return to the work from before, which involved stimulating your sensitive clit. He started to move his hips faster, making a complete mess of you and eliciting several moans. However, if you continued moaning so sweetly for him, the redhead wouldn't be able to last two minutes in the paradise he was in.

Even though he wanted to prolong the fuck he was having, Trappola's body no longer seemed to obey his wishes due to the pleasure that had accumulated in his cock. Fortunately, you don't seem too far from that.

“Y/n!” Ace pants your name and closes his eyes, letting his seed fill your previously virgin hole with hot steady streams.

You come soon after, letting out a sharp scream as your pussy milks him with constant squeezes until the last drop fills you.

When Ace's pleasure is finally released inside you, your body becomes completely limp and your breathing is labored.

The redhead rested your leg on the bed and with the hand that was previously holding it he began to caress and eventually squeeze your buttocks, admiring the sperm that dripped from your pussy and slid down your thighs. Ace had come in very large amounts, pleased that you took all of him

“You were amazing.” Ace praised sincerely, placing an affectionate kiss on her reddened cheek. It was actually funny of him to say that, after all, you did absolutely nothing during sex.

“I hope your wife has some birth control.” You murmured as you recovered from your orgasmic high.

“She can’t get pregnant anymore.” He lets out a muffled laugh against your neck.

“Urgh.” An annoyed grumble leaves his lips.

You would have to buy contraceptives the next day or Alice would end up getting a new baby brother.

[…]

You left minutes after sex.

Although Ace insisted that you spend the night with him, you couldn't because of your parents. They wouldn't be stupid enough to believe any excuse you came up with to stay at the redhead's house all night, especially when your house was literally opposite his. At least you already had an excuse ready for his delay, saying that Trappola had arrived late from work, which actually happened.

Oh, yes. You also stole that doll from hell.

Although he felt sorry for knowing that Alice would be sad to wake up and no longer find her new toy, it was still better than leaving a seemingly cursed doll in her arms.

You burned her the next day and the doll no longer made a sound.

Thank you for reading this far! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

See you soon.

[nekropsii]

ALPHA TROLLS RANKED BY HOW WRONG THE FANDOM AT LARGE IS ABOUT THEM:

This is a personal challenge, based entirely on my own experience and perspective, and also ranked from Most to Least Correct. I was bored, and thought this might be fun.

Putting this under a cut, because it's long as hell.

MEULIN LEIJON

People get her mostly correct, from what I’ve seen… Most of the time, fan content of Meulin is absolutely recognizable as Meulin, but her pride in her deafness + joy of learning new ways to interact with the world through/due to her disability is always removed, and I do not often see people tackle the Toxic Positivity aspect of her character. That seems less like character assassination, though, and more like a combination of people not actually playing through the Openbounds, people not being able to fathom disabled people (especially those who gained a disability later in life rather than being born disabled) being happy, and general fandom distaste for the idea of touching anything uncomfortable, especially when that uncomfortable topic is highly mundane, normalized, and potentially applicable to them or their loved ones. Meulin’s toxic positivity was, of course, commentary on Tumblr’s ecosystem at the time, so… It was much harder to touch back then.

ARANEA SERKET

People tend to get her general, broad strokes personality right, but unfortunately she gets treated pretty roughly for the crime of Being A Serket. People refuse to understand her motivations, and she often gets demonized for what she was doing around/during [S] Game Over, even though that was something she’d gotten pushed to and also was cool as fuck to watch. God forbid a woman do anything.

DAMARA MEGIDO

People are right about the racism, 100%. It is completely despicable, hard to look at, and extremely blatant. She does, however, have character outside of that. No, it isn’t “whore”, it’s more like “angry, dysfunctional abuse victim”, and she’s genuinely a very interesting and tragic character. But, again, people are right about the racism, so she gets to be placed way up here.

MEENAH PEIXES

She is such a chaotic little bastard. I love her. I really do. Please understand that she genuinely does not understand the concept of consequences. This girl didn’t have a Lusus, she didn’t have parents, it was functionally illegal to tell her “No, you can’t do that.” That would fuck up literally anyone’s moral compass. That’s not me hand waving away all the fucked up and bad shit she’s done, we all know what she did, but people tend to forget this aspect of her character and it pains me deeply, because it is a very genuinely interesting concept that I want to see more of. She’s capable of regret, we’ve seen her feel it, I just don’t think foresight is her forte. No one raised her to consider consequences, or help her experience them in a healthy way, because nobody raised her period.

Also, her ass is not butch, she is the girliest girl in the entire comic. She is about hot pink and glitter and kiss marks and unicorns and cute little puns and you will respect that. She is not masculine. Her ass is not masculine nor is she butch. Let her be her hyper-feminine self.

LATULA PYROPE

Please for the love of god there is more to her character than “Gamer Girl” and “Mituna’s Girlfriend”. You are falling for her fucking ruse. Please. Please. Please recognize that her entire character is about internalized misogyny, and being forced to overcompensate for misogyny in gaming circles as a gamer who happens to be a woman. Please. I’m begging.

KURLOZ MAKARA

His character is not that deep, it’s mostly just a string of events he is mysteriously, inexplicably involved with. The Makaras are extremely Function Over Form- their characters practically do not exist, they're mostly just plot devices that exist to push the story along. I'm sorry to Makara fans. You just invented a guy in your mind and decided he was real. He is also not that soft, though, and his relationships with both Meulin AND Mituna are not healthy. Hard to stop people from ascribing cutesy squishy lovey dynamics to random men who happened to have looked at each other once, though. Some people truly haven't graduated from 2012.

HORUSS ZAHHAK

I am begging people to consider that maybe the biggest issue here is not that he is “Bad Otherkin/Therian Representation” and is in fact maybe the fact that Hussie was actually making fun of Systems when he was writing Horuss. Because Horuss is canonically a system. He uses the word system. He uses the word switching. He uses the word host. He literally talks about his Plurality at length in extremely upfront, plain terms. I don’t know how him being “Bad Otherkin Representation” was and still is the main discourse about him. It makes me insane. That is a commentary that truly writes itself. Talk about having your priorities out of wack, honestly...

PORRIM MARYAM

No, she is not a MRA, she’s just a regular feminist who happens to live on a different planet with different politics and social hierarchies from Our Real World Earth’s USA. Whatever argument you’re about to pull out of your ass to say that she sucks is bad. She already explained what she meant by that, in more detail, very clearly, and she was right. Half the time she’s literally just giving you factual information about what Beforus was like, and literal plot synopses. She isn’t saying anything insane. She’s literally normal. I don’t know why people cannot handle or process this. Porrim has not ever said anything controversial. If you disagree with this you’re either misconstruing her on purpose or you fell for Kankri’s bait, and that’s just fucking sad at that point.

Also, she’s more than a sex object, and her tits are not huge. Honestly, half the shit she was saying was just “I am more than my sex life”, and so many people took that and made her main character trait her sex life. Just pathetic.

RUFIOH NITRAM

This man is a fucking war criminal and I will stop at nothing until he is behind bars for his crimes against Damara. Raging misogynist. Total fucking cunt. Just the worst. If I talk any more about this, this part will be 1,000 paragraphs long. But also, I’m begging people to recognize his relationship with disability, too. He was similar to Meulin in the sense that he didn’t mind his disability, and his biggest gripe with it was the way that Horuss tried to “fix” it… Which is an interesting way to expand upon how Beforus’s culling system is not only very explicitly ableist, but mimicking real world systemic ableism. I also want people to recognize that Hussie is actively having a conversation about the reclamation of slurs with Rufioh’s character, and how not letting people reclaim such language is doing nothing but giving the word power against them while stripping away their own personal agency. Rufioh’s a complicated guy, and he’s interesting and also the worst, and I am really tired of how he gets watered down to nothing but “Pretty Boy Victim Of His Inexplicably Psycho Ex”.

MITUNA CAPTOR

Holy Fucking Shit, You Guys Are Ableist.

KANKRI VANTAS

To this day I see people saying he was just Hussie making fun of SJWs. To this day. To this day people think Hussie was trying to make Every Tumblr Leftist look bad, and that he hates them Because They Are Leftists. When will people recognize him as a bootlicker to the oppressive class and the violently bigoted. When will people recognize that. When will people recognize that this is more of a commentary on the legitimate real flaws of Tumblr’s politics at the time. When. When.

When will people stop portraying him as a lovey-dovey Catholic Whore. I’m going to stab my fucking eyes out and then kill everyone in this building. Me when it's based and cool to ship an aroace character with a sexual predator. I GUESS.

CRONUS AMPORA

I say this with every ounce of sincerity I can possibly muster as a person: What the literal actual fuck.

[laikabu]

re: my thoughts on laios’s sexuality (long post ahead lol)

let me start this post with this. first, this contains a lot of references to the new adventurer’s bible world guide book released last february. i can read japanese, but i’m sure they’re translated somewhere. general spoiler warning in case. also… i am ESL, so sorry for any grammar errors

second, if you’re on the team that insists laios doesn’t care about humans enough to form relationships, either read the manga again or at the very least read this thread.

last, please don’t chime in with your acearo headcanons on this post. there’s already a majority of posts here that insist laios is acearo and that anything else is impossible. i don’t like it the same way i don’t like when someone declares they hc marcille as bisexual to a poster who reads her as lesbian. i already have enough people here who declare he’s ace on my own art. at least people on twitter of all places don’t do this sort of thing to me. nothing in this manga is canon, you can headcanon anything i won’t get mad if you hc him as bi or something. just. don’t be weird on my post.

okay. trust me, i love women, and i love the idea of making my favs women lovers but the idea of laios being gay really appeals to me because of his background. this isn’t fueled by yaoi since i don’t even ship the only m/m relationship i bring up here, i just think it adds a nice layer to his disconnect with his own humanity

i do think laios has a very abstract relationship with his sexuality for a multitude of reasons. he grew up in a very conservative backwater village. he has a hard time recognizing his own feelings towards others just as much as vice versa. i don’t really care for the “laios is a monsterfucker” agenda people are pushing but i do think he’d engage in sexual thoughts in his own weird way, i won’t deny his deviantart fetish shit

as an autistic person myself, i relate to how he’d prioritize his special interest over social interactions. after all, he was fixated on monster food so he’s distracted from dark thoughts. he’s not an actual glutton

he’s shy around women, but i don’t think it’s out of attraction. i just think it’s because he’s awkward and doesn’t want to be seen as a threat. there’s a couple of times when, out of armor, he deliberately tries to make himself look smaller and nonthreatening.

he didn’t show any interest towards ashivia (the hubby hunter girl marcille replaced) and just humored her because she wouldn’t leave him alone. his other party members thought he was giving her special treatment so he had to tell her he “doesnt want to give her special treatment anymore”(even though he never did), so she left

ashivia did her best to butter herself up to laios and he didn’t care, but laios thought shuro was his bestest friend in the whole world because he was too much of a pushover to reject him. ironically… what ashivia did to him parallels what he was doing to shuro

also… yeah sorry i keep bringing up that one comic of laios saying if he were falin he’d marry shuro and then begging him to take him back to his country, or that comic of laios wondering why he doesn’t like him(and then the first two questions he asks the magic mirror was what if he or shuro were women). i don’t even ship them! but it’s not a reach to assume that he likes men because of this, even if it’s kinda played like a joke(after all,a lot of people like chilshi even though their ‘shippy’ interaction was played as a joke)

of course, given the setting, i don’t think knows he’s gay, he wouldn’t have the vocabulary to label himself. i do want to dance around with the idea of him forcibly confronting his own sexuality after years of yaad pressuring him to produce heirs lol. laios might not be cishet but he’s a king so he rdgaf about that right now. i’m open to him having female consorts for political reasons, but i don’t think he’s into women, is all.

before anyone brings up his succubus… god forbid an author makes hetbait. a part of the plot twist was that not-marcille wasn’t the only succubus enticing laios, his other party members were copied too. she was the only one who approached him. also… succubi aren’t always inherently romantic. once it realized marcille didn’t work, it switched to appeal to his desire to be a monster.

[pearlzier]

────⠀ RICH.ᐟREADER struggles with showing love.

NOTES ,, might do a tag list specifically for skater!matt and rich!reader if anyone.... is interested... this is just fluff but i think theyre so cute <3.

you don't really know how to show affection towards those you like or love without spending money. you're so used to others doing it for them—your parents throwing a couple of expensive clothes or jewellery at you for your birthday, your friends taking you out to lavish restaurants as a gift as opposed to something homemade or actually thought out. of course, you like all of those things, who wouldn't? but.. they don't know how to not spend money on those you love.

you don't understand the saying, 'money doesn't buy happiness'. it's managed to make you happy your entire life, so how's that supposed to work? like.. it doesn't make sense. so when matt's birthday's coming up, well, you immediately knew you were gonna buy him something nice and take him somewhere expensive.

but you can't help but think that maybe that's not the best course of action, that matt wouldn't exactly want the generic rich kid birthday starter pack. he's got three siblings, damn it, maybe he'd want something a little more.. meaningful? he's probably seen a few birthday dinners at expensive resturaunts in his time, you doesn't want it to be boring for him. you wanted to make an impact, even if you didn't know how.

it gets to a point where you're stumped, completely. you know matt so well, but are so stuck in your old ways and so used to just shelling out some cash for one day only to do it again and again annually, that coming up with anything that he wanted seemed impossible.

a new skateboard? surely he had enough. protective gear? now that was just comical. you hated the feeling of not being able to come up with a meaningful gift to give him. sure, you two aren't dating, but you're close enough to constitute a gift, right? it pisses you off to no end, to the point of upset. you practically storm into matt's room, having been let in by chris when he saw how distraught you were. "you're so fucking hard to please! how am i supposed to get you a gift for your birthday when, when—"

matt's taken off guard. first of all, how'd you get in? he's assuming it was one of his brothers who'd let you in, but.. second of all, you're so upset. he'd thought he'd done something wrong but you're yelling at him about a gift? his birthday? he blinks for a minute, sitting up, "hey, hey, hey," he starts, frowning. the sight of you so upset makes his heart ache in the worst way possible. getting up from his bed, his gaze rakes over you.

it's appreciative, of course, but also concerned. "you're scarin' me, sweetheart, what's goin' on?" he mumbles, taking a little step closer as he reaches out for you. gently, he places his hands on your arms and draws you a little closer. you look up at him with glassy eyes, a little wet with tears that you try to blink away as to not seem weak or make your mascara run. "stop bein' all.." you don't know what you're protesting against, you really don't.

"all what?" his brows furrow a minute, a small, faint smile ghosting his lips. it only serves to make you a little more upset with how caring he is to you, even when you're a bit of a bitch to him sometimes. hey, he's a bitch in return too.

"all nice. we're supposed to fuck 'n' be all passionate, that kinda thing," you mumble under your breath, lashes fluttering as your eyes lift to his. matt feels a warmth flood his chest and he shakes his head, "don't even want you thinkin' 'bout that whilst you're feelin' like this," he murmurs quietly, tone firm but soft. "you gonna tell me what's up, or—'cause we can just watch a movie or somethin'." as much as he was passionate with your body, he was passionate with your heart too.

"wanted to get you something nice for your birthday, yeah? like.. something you'd enjoy, not some shit you'd say you like and then never use ever again," you start to explain, relaxing a little at the touch on your arms finally and melting your way against him. he hums for a moment, slowly nodding his head at your words. "but nothin's coming to mind at all. blank slate—i can't think of anything you like, i've tried every store, every website." you'd spent hours with your laptop and your soft blankets wrapped around you, just trying to find a single gift for him.

"babe," he sighs at the sight of you, the corners of his lips flitting upwards at the realisation that settles upon him. all this over him? over his birthday? god, you're adorable. "really?"

"what do you mean, really—what type of shitty response is tha—"

"hear me out," matt murmurs, interrupting you gently. he rubs his hands over your arms easily, sighing for a second as his eyes meet yours. "what if i don't want all that? what if i just wanna spend some time with you? y'ever think about that?" his hands slide up over your arms to your neck, fingers curling around the back gently. "that ever cross your mind?"

you scoff instantly at that—"well, who'd want that?" he doesn't admit it, but the sound of you saying that about yourself makes his heart ache in his chest once more. shaking off the pang of hurt, he continues after being quiet for a moment. "me, i'd want that. jus' bein' with you makes me happy. that'd make it a real good birthday." you can't deny there's a warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart when he says that. no one's ever said that your company is all they need to be happy.

you bite your tongue momentarily, considering your words. a bashful little look dawns on your face and you look away with a quiet huff. "yeah?" you mumble, looking up at him through your lashes after. damn it, he makes your heart feel all fluttery and warm like no one else has before. you're not sure whether you like it all that much—since it's so vulnerable, but you can't say you hate it, since you don't. "really?"

he draws you into him, his hand sliding up to the back of your head to cradle it before he holds you against his chest. "i mean it, pretty girl," he murmurs, his words completely genuine and true. he really does mean it, he loves you and your company so damn much—even if he can't say it. he doesn't need your alone time with him to end with having sex, or for you to buy him expensive little gifts, he just needs you. "really do mean it. i like hangin' out with you, ain't it obvious?"

"you're so—like," you don't know how to explain it. your head tilts a little, chin bumping against his chest a little as his fingers brush over your jaw. "so.." you're a little lost for words, admittedly. a smile plays over matt's lips once more, his eyes fluttering over your pretty face.

"so what, babe?"

you're quiet again, considering what to say before you make the decision that words can't describe how you feel enough. so you lean in, grasping at the fabric of his shirt to draw him closer and press your lips against his. it's slow, gentle, he blinks a minute to adjust to the fact you're kissing him, but he melts into it almost immediately. his plush lips against yours feels like heaven, parting a little instinctively. resting his hands on the sides of your face, he holds you against him.

after a little bit, he pulls back. "i get it," he murmurs quietly, "no need to explain. i know." he gets you more than anyone else.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @dayzeandhaze, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @https--roman, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7 ִ ꒱

[sammybeann]

So there's been a lil interest in me continuing this lil guy, so I've decided to make it a whole ass fic. So enjoy the filler chapter for now, as I have COVID and have lost my will to live. I promise it'll get more delicious, though, and we'll dial creep!Dean up to 100.

So what if Sam gets injured on a hunt, tossed around like a ragdoll by an angry vengeful spirit and smacks his pretty little head hard against a concrete wall?

Dean ends up finishing the spirit out, but Sammy is out fucking cold so he has little choice but to take him to the hospital. 

Finally, Sam wakes up and Dean's relief is immediate and immense, and that was until Sam made eye contact, glossy, confused hazel eyes meeting Dean's before asking "who the hell are you? Where am I?!"

The doctor comes in before Dean can answer, shooing the older Winchester out of the room so he can assess Sam's condition. 

Minutes felt like hours before the doctor emerged from the room, his brows furrowed as he explained to Dean that it appeared Sam was suffering from a pretty bad case of amnesia, only remembering certain events in his life, but had no recollection of people, unable to name off any family members or friends. And though his physical injuries would heal and he'd be okay, he wasn't sure Sam would ever recover his memories. 

When Dean re-emerged into Sam's room, he was met once again with an apprehensive look from the baby brother who once looked up at him with stars in his eyes instead of caution. 

After some prying, Dean had come to learn Sam knew his own name, remembered Stanford but nobody there, and mentioned memories of creatures and monsters, but still had no idea who the rough looking man in a dirty leather jacket with blood from Sam's head wound still on his hands was. 

"So, who are you, anyway?" He asked for the second time. 

Before he could really think about it, fight with the devil and angel on his shoulder on whether or not he should betray Sam's trust like this, cross a line he'd never be able to come back from, the words already left his mouth. 

"I'm your husband," he told Sam, who's eyebrows shot up comically high. "I...uh... we've been together since we were teenagers. Got married last year, the whole nine. We...we don't wear rings 'cause those monsters you talked about - they're real. We kill 'em."

Sam went white as a ghost. It wasn't as if this man was unattractive, and sure, he had been curious about the other sex growing up but he never thought he'd actually settle down with a whole ass man. There was also the news of the supernatural, sending a shock to his already overwhelmed system. 

"I...I don't...monsters, really? How the fuck am I supposed to kill monsters?! How am I married?! Oh, God. What am I supposed to do?!" An exasperated Sam exclaimed, big, watery doe eyes staring up at Dean, looking at him like he was his lifeline now, like Dean was his God that could fill in all the gaps for him. 

Guilt bubbled up inside Dean's chest, ugly and festering, but damn if that look from Sam didn't make it all worth it. He had his baby brother on a hook now, dependent and reliant on the only person he had. 

Dean bent down and ran a hand through Sam's mop of hair, leaning in to press a firm kiss against his forehead. 

"Hey, s'okay, baby. I'm here. I'll take care of you," he mumbled against Sam's clammy skin. "I got you."

Yeah, there was no was Dean wasn't going to hell for this, especially when Sam reached out to grab Dean's wrist, pulling his hand down to rest his cheek against Dean's callused palm. 

"Okay," Sam whispered brokenly. "I trust you."

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Radio Times magazine from the 29 July-04 August 2023 :)

THE SECOND COMING

How did Terry Pratchett and Neil gaiman overcome the small matter of Pratchett's death to make another series of their acclaimed divine comedy?

For all the dead authors in the world,” legendary comedy producer John Lloyd once said, “Terry Pratchett is the most alive.” And he’s right. Sir Terry is having an extremely busy 2023… for someone who died in 2015.

This week sees the release of Good Omens 2, the second series of Amazon’s fantasy comedy drama based on the cult novel Pratchett co-wrote with Neil Gaiman in the late 1980s. This will be followed in the autumn by a new spin-off book from Pratchett’s Discworld series, Tiffany Aching’s Guide to Being a Witch, co-written by Pratchett’s daughter Rhianna and children’s author Gabrielle Kent. The same month, we’ll also get A Stroke of the Pen, a collection of “lost” short stories written by Sir Terry for local newspapers in the 70s and 80s and recently rediscovered. Clearly, while there are no more books coming from Pratchett – a hard drive containing all drafts and unpublished work was crushed by a vintage steamroller shortly after the author’s death, as per his specific wishes – people still want to visit his vivid and addictive worlds in new ways.

Good Omens 2 will be the first test of how this can work. The original book started life as a 5,000-word short story by Gaiman, titled William the Antichrist and envisioned as a bit of a mashup of Richmal Crompton’s Just William books and the 70s horror classic The Omen. What would happen, Gaiman had mused, if the spawn of Satan had been raised, not by a powerful American diplomat, but by an extremely normal couple in an idyllic English village, far from the influence of hellish forces? He’d sent the first draft to bestselling fantasy author Pratchett, a friend of many years, and then forgotten about it as he busied himself with continuing to write his massively popular comic books, including Violent Cases, Black Orchid and The Sandman, which became a Netflix series last year.

Pratchett loved the idea, offering to either buy the concept from Gaiman or co-write it. It was, as Gaiman later said, “like Michelangelo phoning and asking if you want to paint a ceiling” The pair worked on the book together from that point on, rewriting each other as they went and communicating via long phone calls and mailed floppy discs. “The actual mechanics worked like this: I would do a bit, then Neil would take it away and do a bit more and give it back to me,” Pratchett told Locus magazine in 1991. “We’d mess about with each other’s bits and pieces.”

Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch – to give it its full title –was published in 1990 to huge acclaim. It was one of, astonishingly, five Terry Pratchett novels to be published that year (he averaged two a year, including 41 Discworld novels and many other standalone works and collaborations).

It was also, clearly, extremely filmable, and studios came knocking — though getting it made took a while. rnvo decades on from its writing, four years after Pratchett's death from Alzheimer's disease aged 66, and after several doomed attempts to get a movie version off the ground, Good Omens finally made it to TV screens in 2019, scripted and show-run by Gaiman himself. "Terry was egging me on to make it into television. He knew he was dying, and he knew that I wouldn't start it without him," Gaiman revealed in a 2019 Radio Times interview. Amazon and the BBC co-produced with Pratchett's company Narrativia and Gaiman's Blank Corporation production studios, with Michael Sheen and David Tennant cast in the central roles of Aziraphale the angel and Crowley the demon. The show was a hit, not just with fans of its two creators, but with a whole new young audience, many of whom had no interest in Discworld or Sandman. Social media networks like Tumblr and TikTok were soon awash with cosplay, artwork and fan fiction. The original novel became, for the first time, a New York Times bestseller.

A follow up was, on one level, a no-brainer. The world Pratchett and Gaiman had created was vivid, funny and accessible, and Tennant and Sheen had found an intriguing romantic spark in their chemistry not present in the novel.

There was, however, a huge problem. There wasn't a second Good Omens book to base it on. But there was the ghost of an idea.

In 1989, after the book had been sold but before it had come out, the two authors had laid on fivin beds in a hotel room at a convention in Seattle and, jet-lagged and unable to sleep, plotted out, in some detail, what would happen in a sequel, provisionally titled 668, The II Neighbour of the Beast.

"It was a good one, too" Gaiman wrote in a 2021 blog. "We fully intended to write it, whenever we next had three or four months free. Only I went to live in America and Terry stayed in the UK, and after Good Omens was published, Sandman became SANDMAN and Discworld became DISCWORLD(TM) and there wasn't a good time."

Back in 1991, Pratchett elaborated, "We even know some of the main characters in it. But there's a huge difference between sitting there chatting away, saying, 'Hey, we could do this, we could do that,' and actually physically getting down and doing it all again." In 2019, Gaiman pillaged some of those ideas for Good Omens series one (for example, its final episode wasn't in the book at all), and had left enough threads dangling to give him an opening for a sequel. This is the well he's returned to for Good Omens 2, co-writing with comic John Finnemore - drafted in, presumably, to plug the gap left Pratchett's unparalleled comedic mind. No small task.

Projects like Good Omens 2 are an important proving ground for Pratchett's legacy: can the universes he conjured endure without their creator? And can they stay true to his spirit? Sir Terry was famously protective of his creations, and there have been remarkably few adaptations of his work considering how prolific he was. "What would be in it for me?" he asked in 2003. "Money? I've got money."

He wanted his work treated reverently and not butchered for the screen. It's why Good Omens and projects like Tiffany Aching's Guide to Being a Witch are made with trusted members of the inner circle like Neil Gaiman and Rhianna Pratchett at the helm. It's also why the author's estate, run by Pratchett's former assistant and business manager Rob Wilkins, keeps a tight rein on any licensed Pratchett material — it's a multi-million dollar media empire still run like a cottage industry.

And that's heartening. Anyone who saw BBC America's panned 2021 Pratchett adaptation The Watch will know how badly these things can go when a studio is allowed to run amok with the material without oversight. These stories deserve to be told, and these worlds deserve to be explored — properly. And there are, apparently, many plans afoot for more Pratchett on the screen. You can only hope that, somewhere, he'll be proud of the results.

After all, as he wrote himself, "No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away, until the clock wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life is only the core of their actual existence."

While those ripples continue to spread, Sir Terry Pratchett remains very much alive. MARC BURROWS

DIVINE DUO

An angel and a demon walk into a pub... Michael Sheen and David Tennant on family, friendship and Morecambe & Wise

Outside it's cold winter's day and we're in a Scottish studio, somewhere between Edinburgh and Glasgow. But inside it's lunchtime in The Dirty Donkey pub in the heart of London, with both Michael Sheen and David Tennant surveying the scene appreciatively. "This is a great pub," says Sheen eagerly, while Tennant calls it "the best Soho there can be. A slightly heightened, immaculate, perfect, dreamy Soho."

Here, a painting of the absent landlord — the late Terry Pratchett, co-creator, with Neil Gaiman, of the series' source novel — looms over punters. Around the corner is AZ Fell and Co Antiquarian and Unusual Books. It's the bookshop owned by Sheen's character, the angel Aziraphale, and the place to where Tennant's demon Crowley is inevitably drawn.

It's day 74 of an 80-day shoot for a series that no one, least of all the leading actors, ever thought would happen, due to the fact that Pratchett and Gaiman hadn't ever published any sequel to their 1990 fantasy satire. Tennant explains, "What we didn't know was that Neil and Terry had had plots and plans..."

Still, lots of good things are in Good Omens 2, which expands on the millennia-spanning multiverse of the first series. These include a surprisingly naked side of John Hamm, and roles for both Tennant's father-in-law (Peter Davison) and 21-year-old son Ty. At its heart, though, remains the brilliant banter between the two leading men — as Sheen puts it, "very Eric and Ernie !" — whose chemistry on the first series led to one of the more surprising saviours of lockdown telly.

Good Omens is back — but you've worked together a lot in the meantime. Was there a connective tissue between series one of Good Omens and Staged, your lockdown sitcom?

David: Only in as much as the first series went out, then a few months later, we were all locked in our houses. And because of the work we'd done on Good Omens, it occurred that we might do something else. I mean, Neil Gaiman takes full responsibility for Staged. Which, to some extent, he's probably right to do!

Michael: We've got to know each other through doing this. Our lives have gotten more entwined in all kinds of ways — we have children who've now become friends, and our families know each other.

There have been hints of a romantic storyline between the two characters. How much of an undercurrent is that in this series.

David: Nothing's explicit.

Michael: I felt from the very beginning that part of what would be interesting to explore is that Aziraphale is a character, a being, who just loves. How does that manifest itself in a very specific relationship with another being? Inevitably, as there is with everything in this story, there's a grey area. The fact that people see potentially a "romantic relationship", I thought that was interesting and something to explore.

There was a petition to have the first series banned because of its irreverent take on Christian tropes. Series two digs even more deeply into the Bible with the story of Job. How much of a badge of honour is it that the show riles the people who like to ban things?

David: It's not an irreligious show at all. It's actually very respectful of the structure of that sort of religious belief. The idea that it promotes Satanism [is nonsense]. None of the characters from hell are to be aspired to at all! They're a dreadful bunch of non-entities. People are very keen to be offended, aren't they? They're often looking for something to glom on to without possibly really examining what they think they're complaining about.

Michael, you're known as an activist, and you're in the middle of Making BBC drama The Way, which "taps into the social and political chaos of today's world". Is it important for you to use your plaform to discuss causes you believe in?

Michael: The Way is not a political tract, it's just set in the area that I come from. But it has to matter to you, doesn't it? More and more as I get older, [I find] it can be a real slog doing this stuff. You've got to enjoy it. And if it doesn't matter to you, then it's just going to be depressing.

David, Michael has declared himself a "not-for-profit" actor. Has he tried to persuade you to give up all your money too?

David: What an extraordinary question! One is always aware that one has a certain responsibility if one is fortunate and gets to do a job that often doesn't feel like a job. You want to do your bit whenever you can. But at the same time, I'm an actor. I'm not about to give that up to go into politics or anything. But I'll do what I can from where I live.

Well, your son and your father-in-law are also starring in this series. How about that, jobs for the boys!

David: I know! It was a delight to get to be on set with them. And certainly an unexpected one for me. Neil, on two occasions, got to bowl up to me and say, "Guess who we've cast?!"

How do you feel about your US peers going on strike?

David: It's happening because there are issues that need to be addressed. Nobody's doing this lightly. These are important issues, and they've got to be sorted out for the future of our industry. There's this idea that writers and actors are all living high on the hog. For huge swathes of our industry, that's just not the case. These people have got to be protected.

Michael: We have to be really careful that things don't slide back to the way they were pre the 1950s, when the stories that we told were all coming from one point of view and the stories of certain people, or communities within our society, weren't represented. There's a sense that now that's changed for ever and it'll never go back. But you worry when people can't afford to have the opportunities that other people have. We don't want the story that we tell about ourselves to be myopic. You want it to be as inclusive as possible

Staged series 3 recently broadcast. It felt like the show's last hurrah — or is there more mileage? Sheen and Tennant go on holiday?

David: That's the Christmas special! One Foot in the Algarve! On the Buses Go to Spain!

Michael: I don't think we were thinking beyond three, were we?

So is it time for a conscious uncoupling for you two — Eric and Ernie say goodbye?

David: Oh, never say never, will we?

Michael: And it's more Hinge and Bracket.

David: Maybe that's what we do next — The Hinge and Bracket Story. CRAIG McLEAN

[lowkeyrobin]

still so disappointed that mr pennycrumb [fives dog in the comics] didnt rlly appear much in the show </3

ok ok so its the academy's birthday and the reader is insanely good at gift giving and never forgets to give presents if theres smth special happening. they hand out the gifts to everyone except they avoid five and disappear w/o them knowing where they went, only to come back at dusk w/ a larger box. obviously five went insane and rambles on how worried he was before the reader finally shuts him up by plopping the box on him, and boom. theres a puppy.

[loved the last viktor fic btw. literally bawled my eyes out]

- 🦇

OMG YES the only appearance we saw was in s3 when Luther went on a jog before he got napped :( ; and thank you!! I got bored and I couldn't extend it any further so it's kinda dumb but it's alr haha ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also sorry this is so short and dumb idk writers block is so picky

FIVE HARGREEVES ; mr pennycrumb

summary ; when the umbrella academys birthdays roll around, you get five a whole ass dog

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; some of the gifts are related to hobbies/interests that are more of hcs than actual canon

word count ; 738

masterlist

When you walked into Allison's with multiple boxes and bags for the Hargreeves, they all knew you were at it again with your insane yet accurate gift giving. They started with cake, then moved over to presents.

Gift giving in the family was like secret Santa in a way. Everyone would essentially get gifts for all the others, and they'd pass around gifts one by one, usually by number order. Luther was always first, Viktor always last. Lila usually snuck in around Diego, because duh. Viktor had gotten used to being last, the forgotten one. But around his family now, he knew it wasn't like that anymore. He'd rather go last so everyone else could have their special time on their special day.

So, the group sets the gifts tagged for Luther on the table in front of him. The kids halfway watch from afar, paying attention to the TV and their toys more than their celebrating parents, aunts, and uncles.

You were among the minority in the house that didn't share a birthday with them, thank God. You would've gone insane over big birthdays like this.

Five, meanwhile, was going insane over you basically ignoring him all day.

You'd gotten Luther some workout gear, knowing he'd taken up going to the gym within the past couple of years. Among other gifts were little trinkets and other things he wanted. He was a little hard to shop for, never really wanting anything, enjoying the quality time over any gift giving.

Next was Diego, and inside the gift you got for him, was a knife sharpening kit. He'd lost his old one just in time. Lila came up next, receiving a few nice outfits you found for her and a gift card to Cosmoprof, as she'd been thinking about re-dyeing her hair to white again.

Next up was Allison, grateful for the numerous acting job business cards you'd given her on top of a bunch of books that were on her Amazon wishlist. She was a serious reader who wanted to get back into acting, now.

Klaus was after her, ecstatic about a carry-around cleaning kit. You were going to go with a joint maker to make his life easier before he got sober. Now he wouldn't need a full bag of cleaning supplies, he'd have your perfect gift.

Five decided to go last, wanting to watch his family be happy more than open presents himself.

Ben was next, receiving some letters from modeling agencies. As he should.

Viktor was second to last, very appreciative for the new drink recipes you'd made and found for him atop the pile of clothes you'd gotten him.

You disappeared around dusk, leaving Five to open his presents without presence. He was physically eighteen, mentally sixty-two today.

As he looks up, seeing the lack of you around, he hides a soft frown. He noticed how you weren't standing near him all night, how you barely even spoke around him.

"Did you do something to Y/n?" Klaus asks out of the blue. "They just kinda... dissappeared"

Five shrugs. "I don't think I did. Even if I did do something, they'd talk it out with me"

Allison shrugs. "I think that's them" she comments, looking out the screen door to see you pull up in your car again. "Diego, could you get the door?"

Diego turns around, unlocking the door for you, holding it open as he sees you holding a big box.

"Why is that box bigger than you?"

"Also, why is it moving?"

You set the box on the table in front of Five, a wide smile on your face. "Open it"

He slowly sets aside the large box of coffee pods he received from Diego to the side, slowly reaching for the box flaps. As he pulls them to the side, out jumps a little dog.

"Oh my God?"

Five smiles, pulling the puppy into his lap. He looks up at you, a glimmer in his eyes. "Why did you get me a dog?"

You shrug, moving the box off the table. "You're a lonely old man, you need some company"

He chuckles, petting the pug's head.

"What're you gonna name it?" Ben asks, arms crossed.

"Him" You correct

"Mr. Pennycrumb" Five answers.

"Why?" Luther asks.

The physically younger boy shrugs. "Why not?"

"Interesting choice" Klaus mutters with a shrug.

Five smiles up at you, giddy like a little kid. "Thank you"

"I try"

[the-thing-withfeathers]

Could you please write JJ x reader smut where the reader is new to the team and disrespects/talks back to JJ in a meeting so after it JJ puts the reader in her place!

talking back

a/n: ugh i was sooo happy to get a request for jj!! the loml, i love her so much. thank you sm for sending this in. i tried to make it as steaaamy as possible 😫

pairing: dom!jennifer jareau x sub!reader

warnings: SMUT!! use of vibrator from jj, handcuffs, spanking, hair-pulling cursing, degradation. names used in this are fully fictional & randomly generated!

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

“okay.” emily started, walking into the bullpen. “we have a case.” she said, making a beeline for the briefing room

the rest of you rose from your chairs and followed suit. you followed everyone else since it was your first week at the BAU. you had worked the entire week basically shadowing the team but also being shown around quantico. you hadn’t actually worked a proper case with them yet.

you mainly shadowed agent jennifer jareau. you found her incredibly captivating while she worked. she was beautiful but also had an intensity to her that made her good at her job. she had an intelligent mind and a presence that was hard to miss. it was endearing, you even found yourself having a little work crush on her.

you walked into the briefing room, taking a seat in between luke and jj. penelope handed out the case files to each of you, showing excitement when she handed you yours.

“baby’s first case!” she commented in a cheery tone, she then pressed a button on her remote. the juxtaposition of her cheery tone to the gruesome pictures on the screen was almost comical.

you eyed the dead body on the screen.

“joseph tiller. found dead in an alleyway with wings carved across his back.” she said, “killed in the same way as victoria barley and matthew camrey.” penelope flicked through the photos.

“the wings carved on the back is an interesting MO.” emily noted, pointing to the wings and tracing them on the screen.

“bird wings?” jj chimed in.

“angel wings.” you cut in as well, a little bit more firm than her. you were only trying to be helpful.

“they look too sharp to be angel wings. it could be a sign of predator and prey, they look like wings from smaller birds.” she said, countering you.

“these victims seem like really geniune people.” you said, flicking through the file. “i think they’re angel wings. it could be a sign of resentment, like the unsub didn’t want to kill them and he acknowledges that they’re good people. but he just couldn’t help themselves.” you looked over at jj, trying to read her face. her clenched jaw showed that she wasn’t very happy with her opinion being challenged. she was usually fine with it when it came from others— but you figured it was just cause you were new.

“you’ve barely been here a week, sweetheart. you can’t know that for sure.” jj retaliated, you went quiet.

“my opinion is just as valid as yours, agent jareau.” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“wrong opinions get you killed in this line of work.” she shook her head, glaring at you.

the room fell silent, everyone’s eyes were on the two of you.

“like you’ve never had a wrong opinion before? i find that hard to believe.” you snapped back at her. “nobody’s perfect, jareau.” you huffed.

“oh you—“ jj started.

“i think you both have points.” emily cut in to stop you two from fighting. “we can explore both options, one of them is bound to lead us to the right guy.”

you two slumped into your chairs. you didn’t want to mess with emily, you quieted down and just waited for further instructions. emily briefed all of you on your assignments for when you landed.

“wheels up in 30.”

you stood up, stepping out of the briefing room. before you could even make your way back to the bullpen, jj grabbed your arm and dragged you into her old office.

“who taught you to speak to people with that mouth?” she snapped at you while throwing you into the room and shutting the door behind her.

“what? jj, you seriously can’t be upset about what happened in the briefing room?” you asked in disbelief. you leaned against her desk with your arms across your chest.

“i’m upset. who told you it was okay to talk back?” she asked, stepping forward until she was in front of you.

“jj— come on, we have to get ready.” you said, trying to stand up straight but her stature blocked you from doing so. she suddenly grabbed your face in her hand, her fingers pressing at your cheeks.

“you deserve to be punished for how you talked to me.” she spat out. “you need to be put in your place.”

you would be lying if you said this wasn’t turning you on. you found jj beautiful, you had only seen her in a work setting. this newly sought out dominance only made her more attractive to you.

you tried to get some words out but jj squeezed your face harder, restricting you from saying anything. you let out a helpless whine instead.

“good. you sound so… weak. that’s good. you’re starting to know what you truly are.” she pulled you forward by your face and turned you around, bending you over the desk. she pulled open a drawer that was beside your leg, you heard chains clanking against each other.

oh no.

you felt handcuffs lock around your wrists as she pulled your hands behind your back. you pulled against them at first, trying to get them off.

“no. be good.” she scolded you. she pulled your pants & panties down until they bunched up around your legs. “i’m gonna need you to count, honey.” she said, the kind nickname shocking you a bit.

“count what?—“ smack. “ow! fuck!” you cried out. jj had delivered a slap to your ass, it wasn’t gentle to even start with, she released a lot of tension with it.

“count.”

smack.

“one!” you yelped out.

smack.

“fuck! two!” your hands were trying to reach for anything to hold on to. the pain was mixed with pleasure as you caught a glimpse of how hot jj looked when she was angry. your arousal started to wash over you, sending a wetness to your core.

smack!

“three!” you yelled. you were unsure if people could hear you at this point, jj didn’t seem to care. her jaw clenched and her eyes were filled with rage and lust at the same time.

smack!

“four!” you started getting used to the feeling but it was still pretty unbearable. “i’m sorry!” you tried apologising, hoping that maybe she’d stop and give you some more pleasure for once.

“i’m sorry just won’t cut it.” she muttered, swinging her hand back down.

smack!

“five! please.” you begged, tears forming in your eyes. your arousal started dripping down your legs.

smack!

“six!” you breathed out. you needed to be touched. the cool air coming in through the office air conditioner was hitting your core, sending goosebumps up your legs.

that was the last of it, jj pulled away and went into another drawer. she tinkered with something in her hand and you started to hear a light buzz.

you gasped when a vibration hit your wet cunt and moved around your clit.

how did jj manage to hide all of this?!

she started to move the vibrator up and down your slit. it moved easily with how wet you were.

“god, you’re so embarrassing. i was hurting you and you were still so turned on by me.” she laughed softly, teasing you.

you wanted to retaliate and tease back but you knew she’d probably deprive you more. you layed there and took it. you were moaning softly with each time the vibrator would hit your clit, gripping onto the chains holding the handcuffs together.

she suddenly pressed the vibrator hard against your clit, your knees immediately giving out as you dropped. your upper half on the table helped keep you up but jj didn’t care if your knees couldn’t hold you any longer, she continued to use the toy on you.

you felt your orgasm build quickly, your moans started to get heavier and your body tensed up.

she grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head up, your face lifting off the desk.

“i don’t care how long we take. you’re only gonna cum for me when i want you to.” she whispered into your ear. she pulled the vibrator away suddenly, you whined at the sudden stop.

“jj, please. i wanna cum for you.” you tried to turn and look at her.

“hearing you beg is cute, but it won’t work.” she said, she lined the vibrator up with your hole, gently pushing it in and pumping it into you.

“ah! fuck… jj, feels… feels so fucking good.” you said between moans. she dragged the vibrator up to your clit when it would pump out, then drag it back straight into your hole.

your hair was still pulled back, your back creating an arch. jj stood directly behind you and started kissing your neck, leaving bite marks that you hissed at. your eyes rolled so far back, you might’ve seen your skull.

“mmph, jj…” you moaned out her name. “won’t… won’t talk back again.” you forced out. you were so fucked out that you’d tell her anything just so you could cum.

“good girl… such a good girl.” she chuckled, pleased with her work. this was getting her off too, she was turned on by how easily you were weak for her. she had been waiting to do this with you ever since you started shadowing her.

“okay baby, you can cum.” she said, nodding in approval.

that was all you needed to release all over the toy, your cum dripping down onto the floor of her old office. you cried out her name as you came, you grinded ever so slightly against the vibrator but she quickly pulled it away, using her fingers to help you ride out the high.

she undid the handcuffs as you heard the team start to walk around and grab their go-bags. you tried to stand straight back up to pull your pants up but your legs gave out again. jj chuckled as she helped you stand upright.

“that should teach you your lesson.” she said, proud of herself.

[thankskenpenders]

Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.