#Im so embarrassed sometimes

[baconcolacan]

Any aus that you're interested in? I would love to see something like police officer/criminal from your hands, whether it be a drawing or a fic

Also, (Regimen) Tord sometimes feels like his only purpose is Tom and all, but does he care about Pat and Paul? Equally as much? If so, Were Tom to hurt one of them (physically) what would Tord do?And would his treatment change, if Toms actions were reasonable (idk like self-defense) or not?

Does regimen Tord still hate "sunshine lollipops?" What would his reaction be were Tom to somehow hack the base's system and have it blasting throughout the whole base/army?

If Tord were to, lets say kiss Tom (in the state he's in now, hospitalized, unstable, and all that) what would toms course of action be?

And lastly, if toms team (the ones he departed from in his capture while being given to the red army) if his men could tell him something before he left, what would each one say? (Including matt)

Also i sincerely hope that you'll be able to take a break with all the work and ur siblings, i honestly admire how u can do all of these things at the same time, you give me strength! Sorry for asking so much, if you want you can respond to all the answers individually/on different posts since its so many!

Whew~! Had to grab my coffee before I answered this one buddy! And don't worry! I'd be happy to answer this in one go, never apologize for asking about my current brainrot no matter the length :3c Warning long post below

Any aus that you're interested in? I would love to see something like police officer/criminal from your hands, whether it be a drawing or a fic

By this you mean AUs that I might want to create myself? Well, at the moment I'm very attached to all the current AUs I have. That being Stay and Military Dads (Regimen if you count it as one, though its canon divergence, but technically thats also AU???). But if you means AUs outside of me, I really like the Frankenneighbors/Stitched Up AU by lunareclipse06, years before this one was Crisis AU by sleepyeule but don't bother them about that, Eule left the fandom long ago. Officer/Criminal hm? Weeelll, I'll think about it.

Also, (Regimen) Tord sometimes feels like his only purpose is Tom and all, but does he care about Pat and Paul? Equally as much? If so, Were Tom to hurt one of them (physically) what would Tord do?And would his treatment change, if Toms actions were reasonable (idk like self-defense) or not?

I wouldn't say he cares about them as equally as he does Tom, if they were all drowning and he could only save two, he'd save Tom twice. Still, he does care about Pat and Paul a lot more than most people, they're friends in some capacity and he has fought with and defended them before. He trusts them, and thats saying a lot for this version of Tord, being that he's so paranoid of everyone around him. If Tom were to hurt them, and he has (see: Pat's nose), he'd probably just sigh and chide at whoever got hurt 'I've already warned you before: Thomas is not to be underestimated.' But he would also probably punish Tom, just a bit of a light smack is all. Generally though, Tord thinks his verbal warning about Tom was sufficient enough, and if people still got hurt knowing Tom can and will hurt them, he'll just think they're stupid for taking it lightly. He'll be very disappointed in Paul or Patryck if they continue getting bodied by Tom though.

Does regimen Tord still hate "sunshine lollipops?" What would his reaction be were Tom to somehow hack the base's system and have it blasting throughout the whole base/army?

Yes he still very much hates it, and for everyone's sake lets hope Tom doesn't do that because it will result in the loss of a significant amount of lives, though knowing Tom he'd do it either way given his whole mental instability thing. But Tord is also mentally unstable, so after the initial damage has been done, Tom is most likely going to suffer something really bad.

If Tord were to, lets say kiss Tom (in the state he's in now, hospitalized, unstable, and all that) what would toms course of action be?

Canon-wise in my fic, Tord would never initiate, but sure I can answer this what-if. Atm, Tom is very very vulnerable, his body is all broken up and mentally, he's not doing well. He'd most likely just let the kiss play out, but he'd probably try to bite Tord if it goes on too long.

And lastly, if toms team (the ones he departed from in his capture while being given to the red army) if his men could tell him something before he left, what would each one say? (Including matt)

Aw you cheeky bastard you :]c Are you looking for unofficial-official closure for this scenario I wrote? You've got a lot of gumption coming to the actual author of the fic for this, as I never ever intended for them to have proper closure, as that's just how it is sometimes, we don't always get to move forward in life with everything tied up nicely. But for you, because you've been so sweet, alright. Here you go, an unofficial-official scene for Regimen:

The snow was too thick to walk through, reaching up to a concerning level at his legs, he feared what that meant for Matt, for what he’ll have to endure once his unit had been given permission to leave, he had hoped that their way out of London wouldn’t be too arduous, but that was a much too frivolous wish on his part, and he knew that.

 The air was so cold that breathing it in seemed to sting at his lungs, he shivered as he walked, breathing out shaking breaths that brought about a fog around his chin, circling his face before dissipating into the air. His injuries throbbed painfully, pulsing against his wrappings, shifting his temperature from hot to cold in quick flashes. The weather didn’t help with this.

Tom squinted against the wind, blinking furiously as his skin was pelted with the sharp chill of the raging snow. He gritted his teeth as the rebel in front of him pulled too hard at his restraints. They had tied him up too tightly, his arms ached from behind him, his joints creaked in protest, threatening to dislodge if he moved the wrong way.

His throat burned, the pressure from the rope around his neck worsening how it tightened with his anxiety. He feared that he wouldn’t be able to breathe, but every time his thoughts began to spiral, the rebel at the front of the group who were guiding him seemed to sense this, and abruptly pulled the rope forwards, like he were a misbehaving dog in a choke leash.

“Watch it, Mask.” The rebel jeered, his smirk only growing at the glower he received in response. “Can’t have you passing out before we get to those dead men you call your unit.” He scoffed, the other rebels around him snickered as they too watched for Tom’s reaction. Now that the once mysterious rebel leader was unmasked, most of the rebels who he had scorned hungered for any kind of retribution.

Tom didn’t give them that satisfaction, instead grinding his teeth against the gag they forced on him as he kept his head down.

“Pathetic.”

Tom heard one of them whisper as he was tugged forward again, though he didn’t expect it this time, which caused him to let out a garbled, choking, cry as he stumbled on his feet. He was able to steady himself before he could fall, but he could feel himself shaking, his body was at its limit, and this rough handling wasn’t helping to stabilize his condition.

One sweeping glance around him revealed an unabashed glee in the eyes of the rebels at the sorry sight of him. Tom committed their faces to memory, a small part of him still raging at their audacity to do this to him. After ALL he had DONE when they were too WEAK, too COWARDLY to do anything themselves.

Traitors.

Traitors the FUCKING LOT OF THEM!

He has had ENOUGH betrayals.

“You have 3 minutes, Mask. Make it count.”

Tom looked at the rebel who addressed him with the barest tilts of his head, but the man had already faced away from him and was opening the doors to Waterloo block without much preamble. The doors opened with a loud creak, the light from outside spilled in like a flood, illuminating weary faces on the other side, squinting against the sudden intrusion and billowing cold.

“Say your goodbyes scum.” The rebel who opened the door addressed Tom’s unit with a sneer, the other rebels stepped up to his sides, weapons on standby, which made those closer to them back away in trepidation.

Tom was pulled into the middle, the rope around his neck tightened too much as it happened, he choked on his spit, his mouth tried to open to take in a gulp of air, but the gag wouldn’t let him. His vision blacked out for a moment as he fell to his knees, unable to cushion himself with his hands tied. His head snapped down concerningly fast, but he felt the rebel pull the rope up, causing his head to lift up with the movement, he let it happen, as he felt his strength leave him exponentially.

He found himself staring up at a blurry ceiling.

“3 minutes.” A voice beyond him said, sounding too far away to his ears.

“What the fuck DID YOU BASTARDS DO TO OUR LEADER?!”

“THOMPSON!!”

“LEADER!!”

“THOMPSON?!”

“HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?!”

“THOMPSON! THOMPSON!!!”

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling

Stop yelling.

Stop yelling for him.

He doesn’t want to save you.

This isn’t for you.

This wasn’t ever supposed to be for you.

He’s not a hero, this isn’t a selfless act. He doesn’t fucking care so STOP FUCKING YELLING.

He only cares about…

“…Tom…?”

Hands. Gentle hands on his face. Familiar. Smooth and unscarred by injury. It means safety. It means silence. It means home.

Tom slowly came back to awareness, enough that he realized that his unit had surrounded him, a few of his remaining fellow Corporals had put some distance between him and other panicked unit members, the ones who looked at him in concern, and the ones that looked at him with hope. As disgusting and vile as that is, at the moment, this moment, it didn’t bother him as much.

He looked directly into two blue eyes, shining with tears that fell freely down freckled cheeks. The droplets heavy with grief, and the tiniest sliver of relief at seeing him again.

Not many people looked at him like that anymore, with concern, with happiness….with grief, knowing that they might never see each other again.

The gag was gone, crumpled on the floor next to the person in front of him. He worked his jaw, testing it out as he tried to get the soreness out.

He smiled, small, pained, but happy.

“Hi Matt…” Tom leaned into his friend’s touch, his lower lip quivered as he tried to keep up his smile. Matt’s expression broke out into anguish, crumbling so pitifully that it made Tom’s heart ache. His friend began to shake, shoulders jumping as his sobs began to escalate. Matt bit his lower lip in an attempt to stop himself, his sobs turning into strangled whimpers as his tears flowed out in earnest, a bead of blood seeped out from between his teeth.

The hands cupping Tom’s face were trembling, badly. Tom never let his smile waver even so, he shook his head and made small clicking noises with his tongue. “Shhh, shhh…Hey, don’t cry…” He whispered softly between them, slowly moving forward as he did so. “Matt, come on, shhh its okay. You’ll be okay. Look at me, Matthew, hey. You’ll be okay, I promise…” Once he was close enough, Tom gave him his best reassuring smile as he rested his forehead against Matt’s own. “No more tears now, okay? You’re safe now…”

Matt blubbered, Tom’s words only proving to renew his tears. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around his friend as he cried into his shoulder. Tom grunted, a sharp, short pain lancing through him at the motion, but he didn’t make it obvious as he leaned against Matt’s body.

This was a warmth he was never going to forget.

“W..What about y-you??” Matt hiccupped against his shoulder, muffled enough that only Tom could understand it, being so close. “T-Tom…I can’t- I can’t without-“ Matt let out a pained wail, unable to finish his sentence, his cries muffled into the fabric of Tom’s bloodied uniform.

Tom’s throat tightened, stinging with something sour. He swallowed hard and willed away the tingling sensation around his eyes.

He looked up around them, seeing the saddened gazes of his unit members as they watched Matt cry into his clothes. There was a hint of confusion in their eyes, no doubt wondering why Matt was reacting like this towards him. He wanted to shield his friend from their looks, he knew that once he was gone, there was a possibility of Matt becoming a target, it was obvious now they knew each other on a more familiar level than what they had let on at the start.

He didn’t want Matt to be his replacement. Never.

Tom locked eyes with Corporal Devinson, who was the only one watching them neutrally.

“Devinson…” Tom said, his voice rough and gravelly. “I struck a deal with the rebels, they’re allowing the unit to leave London, on the condition that you never return.” Devinson’s eyes widened at that information, along with several other unit members. Tom continued. “Corporal, do you remember what play our Colonel was fond of?”

Devinson’s gaze sharpened at the coded words. He glanced up at the rebels waiting by the door, watching them intently. He looked back at his leader. “It was cursed.” He replied.

Tom smirked. “You should give it a read, at least. My favorite line was from Act 5, third scene.”

“I’ll try, leader.”

“Good..” Tom felt Matt beginning to settle as his sobs pattered away to small whimpers and hiccupping. He gave Devinson a softer look, wishing he could hold Matt the same way his friend was doing to him. “Take care of the unit, Devinson. Promise me you will.”

Corporal Devinson stood at attention, he nodded his head sharply. “Always, leader.” Then his gaze turned sad. “I’m….I wish we could do something….I’m so sorry Tom….”

They weren’t friends.

Tom didn’t comment on the use of his name. He regarded his whole unit silently before he spoke. “Look after each other, listen to Devinson. I’m sorry it ended like this. At least this way, you’ll be far from the conflict.” He shook his head when some of them seemed to want to protest, Baxton most of all. He clicked his tongue, quieting them. “No. This is how it ends. We failed. I failed. You have to leave. This is my last failsafe, this is my last defense to keep this unit safe.”

It was terrifying how easily he could lie through his teeth.

He couldn’t care less what happened to them now.

But Matt still needed them. Need their protection. He doesn’t trust any of them, but their sentiments were always easy to play to.

Hilarson had influenced them like that.

Tom felt something constrict his heart, but as always, he ignored it.

For Matt’s sake.

“Promise me. You’ll look after each other.”

The unit was silent.

Then they voiced out their agreements, though seemingly strained, as they looked down at their leader and at each other.

Tom sighed, he moved back a bit, causing Matt to sit up a little and look into his eyes again. His friend’s face looked a bit puffy, his eyes were red and still tearing up, his breath shook as he took in air in small gasps. Tom smiled sadly, knocking their foreheads together one last time before he moved to stand. Matt was immediately at his side and helped him up.

But before he let go, Tom whispered into his ear.

“I’m sorry, about everything.”

Matt’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Tom was suddenly pulled backwards with a cry, he fell to the floor but was still dragged backwards as he choked and gagged.

“TOM!” Matt shrieked, along with the startled and angry yells of protest from the unit members around him as they all surged forward, trying to get to their leader.

They were stopped as guns were pointed at their faces.

“Time’s up.” The rebel who had pulled Tom back spat. He watched in satisfaction as Tom curled in on himself on the floor, wheezing. He looked back up at the rebels with a scowl. “Get out of London.” He sneered before he jerked his head back, signaling for the others to follow him out while keeping their weapons trained on the unit.

Tom cried out as he was roughly pulled to his feet again.

“YOU’RE HURTING HIM!! STOP!! STO-!”

“Prince.” Devinson stood in front of Matt, who tried to run forward. The Corporal put his hands on Matt’s shoulders, he ducked his head down and shook it slowly. ‘Don’t’ He mouthed as a warning.

Matt’s eyes darted towards his own, panicked. A protest rolled up to his tongue, but in a split second, he managed to catch Tom’s gaze just as he was lead out of the doorway.

Tom’s eyes, despite the situation, was just as soft as it looked when Matt had held him on the floor.

“Shhh…”

Matt wouldn’t hear it, of course, but he knew what Tom was trying to say.

Tears fell freely from his eyes again, seemingly freezing on his cheeks this time, without the warmth of his friend nearby.

Tom smiled at him, sad, slow, final.

Then he was gone. --- OOH MINI FIC? HAHAHA ANYWAYS SOME NOTES: “Corporal, do you remember what play our Colonel was fond of?” "It was cursed." > Theater kids like me know we don't say this play's name: The Scottish play. Tom smirked. “You should give it a read, at least. My favorite line was from Act 5, third scene.” > "Bring me no more reports; let them fly all: Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane," - Macbeth Act 5 Scene 3

That whole section was basically just Tom telling Devinson to go to Hilarson's safehouse in Scotland. The SCOTTISH play. Dunsinane Hill is in Scotland. Tada, I'm a fucking nerd. BUT ALSO TYSM FOR THE WELL WISHES!! Im rlly tired these days so Im unable to draw much for the blog but yknow. I'll have my time again.

[anartificialsatellite]

The older I get the more I admire people who are earnestly, genuinely into whatever their thing is. I know it sounds like an annoying cliche but unless you're being cruel or hurtful there is really no need to be normal about things. The dude with the bad fake accent at the renaissance faire is having the time of his life. The people having photoshoots with their fashion dolls are loving it. The old lady with a yard unreasonably full of tacky ass lawn ornaments is having a blast, HOA be damned.

Don't waste your time being too cool to have fun, y'know?

[sushiisiu]

thisis so fuckin embarrassing but the spirit of jayvik just wormed its way back into me after i realize how close arcane s2 is

[wildstar25]

[homemadesterekpie]

sometimes people forget that Stiles is a Derek Hale simp

[good-beansdraws]

It's LOVE that guides my cleaver with such tenderness ♡

From Butcher Vanity 🍽

[skitskatdacat63]

2011 Italian Grand Prix - Vettonso

[valtsv]

i've discovered in the past few months that i actually really enjoy socializing and listening to people, and that people like what i have to say and how i say it and my sense of humor (when i'm comfortable and familiar enough with them to be able to be able to be quick witted in conversations). however i'm unfortunately also extremely unsocialized due to a childhood spent alone almost 24/7 and often emotionally abused and neglected, so whenever i stumble (which i frequently do like a baby deer on ice) i default to word vomit, stock photo formulaic responses i've clearly rehearsed before, and that awful kind of defensive, insincere irony that makes it obvious i struggle to trust people and don't feel comfortable in my own skin. and i'm slowly improving and getting better at recognizing it and practicing so i can be more relaxed and self-assured and charismatic, not because i'm trying to be but because i'm genuinely confident and content with being myself, but it's fucking mortifying having to learn and catch up with like 20 years of experience that a lot of the people i talk to had when they were young enough for people to dismiss it as just the process of growing up and being allowed to be immature and make mistakes because you're literally a child (thank fuck for fellow neurodivergent people or i'd feel incredibly lonely despite my newfound joy in human interaction).

[dollopheadedmerlin]

Gwen really just kissed Merlin on the mouth and he still was like huh what a nice friendly gesture

[medichamcham]

re-uploading an old drawing i did because im reminiscing on the idea that gio is a tiny bit insecure about his skin visibly aging as he gets older. so rose happily helps him out with it !! ^_^

[oceanwithouthermoon]

sometimes i think about how the people who hate on my takes on here would talk to each other and its always phrased like the twitter fandom drama i see but completely irrational and it makes me giggle

"calling kusuke abusive just because he shot his brother with a lethal weapon, plotted his murder, planned to use their grandparents to assist in hurting/killing him, and tried for years to expose his secret to the entire world against his will and through knowingly hurtful means in order to destroy everything he cared about is so stupid! what a stretch!"

"the saiki k fandom is so damn sensitive. i shoot my brother with massive guns all the time and its not abusive because he just blocks it!" HELPEKSJJSJSKSKKS

[slightlyunconventional]

long overdue second dbhwks fic (2.8k)

SLAVED AWAY at this for days (i didnt. i could have done it in one but i procrastinated so much it’s unbelievable. but heres some food) quite happy w how it came out too if i do say so myself,, hope u enjoy!! 🫶

-

“Sorry I’m late.” Dabi. He’s picked the damn lock again. 

“Oh my god, do you seriously not know how to knock?” Hawks calls back, practically skipping into the living room. 

“Don’t wanna stand around outside your door like a creep, thanks,” deadpans the villain. Hawks rolls his eyes.

“You look like more of a creep picking the lock, but sure. Come here.”

He takes Dabi by the hand and leads him toward the couch. His fingers are warm, like usual. God, has Hawks missed that. Between hero work, villainy, and conflicting schedules they’d barely had time to see each other and, man, was it miserable. It takes everything in him not to bowl Dabi over with an absolutely suffocating embrace - it’d probably kill the man. 

Dabi raises his eyebrows. “You cleaned?” 

Hawks had expected Dabi to notice, but not point it out, so he’s a little caught off guard by the halfway-question. “Oh, yeah,” he says, a fraction sheepishly, “Is it too much?”

“Mm, no, looks good,” Dabi smirks, “Makes a nice change from all the crap you’ve usually got lying around.” Hawks hits him playfully and he laughs, clear and smooth, not at all like the peals brimming with malice he’d usually hear from Dabi.

“Uuugh, I hate you, leave me alone,” he complains. When Dabi’s eyebrows raise again, Hawks pulls a face and adds, “I’m a busy man! I don’t have time to clean!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m flattered.”

He sits Dabi down on the couch, maybe a little too eagerly, and comes down to straddle the taller man’s lap. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, before pressing his lips to Dabi’s with an urgency that only comes from being deprived of seeing one’s lover for far too long. Dabi loosens underneath Hawks and they quickly fall into a long practised pattern, all pretences dropped for this moment of touch-starved tenderness. Nothing exists outside of this room, everything is so warm, and Hawks melts even more when he feels Dabi smile against his lips.

“Seems like someone missed me,” murmurs the villain, voice sleek and low. The response is simply a hand laced through the dyed-black hair at the back of Dabi’s head, taking hold of him and pulling him closer with nothing short of absolute need. In turn, Dabi’s hands find the small of Hawks’ back, and heat begins to pool in his stomach as they slowly threaten to sneak closer to the bases of his wings. And his lips are warm, so warm, and he always seems to know exactly what to do with them to make Hawks collapse like putty in his hands. For a crazed villain who incinerates shit for fun, Dabi’s a fucking good kisser. 

…And a tease, apparently! Hawks knows that Dabi knows how badly he wants this, and how long he’s been waiting - yet he still seems to be taking his sweet time. He can feel the villain absently tracing circles into his back, with the same pace as his mouth is working against Hawks’. The little shit. He knows exactly what he’s doing; well, two can play at that game. Hawks takes it as a challenge, takes Dabi’s scarred face between his hands, and takes control. He presses closer, kissing the man with some previously unseen vigour, practically forcing him to match the increased pace. A little wave of triumph passes through Hawks as he hears Dabi’s breath catch in the back of his throat, nearly silent, but they’re close enough that nothing can really go unheard. Feeling like he’s succeeded, Hawks goes to indulge further, perhaps elicit some more reactions like that, when he feels Dabi’s hand leave his back. Before he can register it properly, the hand is upon his chest, pushing with some insistence. Hawks pulls away, panicked.

“Oh, shit, fuck, sorry, was that too much?”

The arm Dabi has outstretched towards Hawks’ chest slackens slightly, as do his facial features. He doesn’t reply, but rather his lips part and his eyes glaze over, forming an expression so laced with vulnerability that Hawks is almost taken aback - though, he can’t dwell on the display for long, as he’s quickly instead watching Dabi bring his other hand, curled tightly into a fist, up to his own face and press it most firmly to the underside of his nose. His chest rises once with an inhale not unlike before, only this time a little louder and deeper, and he ducks forward slightly with two slightly-awkwardly stifled sneezes.

“hhahh-! ..hh’nGXT! kxNTsh! Ugh, fuck.”

“Oh!” Hawks says, a little surprised, “Bless you.” A part of him wants to chide the villain for holding it in like that, but he refrains, knowing full well he himself would stifle exactly the same.

Dabi hums in lieu of a thanks, and Hawks returns his hand to his boyfriend’s face and leans back in.

“Can I go back to kissing you now?” he murmurs.

Dabi rolls his eyes but drapes his arms lazily over Hawks’ shoulders, an invitation, yes, you can go back to kissing me now. Their lips interlock once again, picking up where they left off, with Hawks feeling absolutely on top of the world from the fact that he’s doing the work here, he’s the one kissing Dabi, not the other way around. He’s never been opposed to Dabi taking control, in fact he loves being ravaged by the man, but sue him, sometimes it feels good to be the one doing the ravaging. However, his elation at this seems to be poorly concealed, or perhaps Dabi just wants to knock him down a peg, because Hawks feels teeth closing on his bottom lip. Not so hard that it hurts, but just enough to tease an audible gasp from him as he tenses up on Dabi’s lap. He’s fairly certain he’s never needed someone all over him so badly until this point. Clearly it shows, too, since Dabi insists on being such a menace and playing the long game with him. Well, Hawks decides that’s not going to fly; he presses in closer, almost entirely closing the gap between them and slides his other hand behind Dabi’s head, not-so-subtly tugging him closer and kissing him harder, once more regaining the upper hand. He takes to gently thumbing back and forth against the base of Dabi’s neck, to which the man lets out, involuntarily, a little noise of satisfaction, finally accepting submission. Hawks is almost tempted to bite Dabi back, but maybe that’d be pushing his luck. Besides, this side of Dabi - soft, pliant, accepting - is one he rarely sees, and he’s kind of into it. It’s a good look on the villain. 

Before long, however, their rhythm is broken once again. One of the arms laying around Hawks’ neck begins to move, and the hand meets his shoulder. Hawks has a sneaking feeling he knows what’s coming (for the second time), as Dabi’s hand pushes against his shoulder - slowly, though, as if he’s really trying to prolong the inevitable. It really doesn’t seem like he wants to pull away, so Hawks does it for him, gently separates their faces, strangely endeared by Dabi’s reluctance - and it seems he did so at exactly the right moment. Being so close to him, Hawks can easily see the way his face immediately crumples, eyes flickering shut and lips parting with an inhale that sounded as though it had been waiting to be drawn for… a while. In a split second, he’s tugging the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand with some urgency, and Hawks catches the flare of his nostrils right before he pinches his nose, clamping the thick black fabric over the bottom half of his face. There’s hardly six inches between the two of them, so Dabi twists awkwardly to the side with a set of cruelly stifled sneezes.

“hh’GKTtch! ‘KXXSHh! Ugh, god– h-hahH’KGXt’sh!”

They sound harsher this time around, harder to stifle, probably.

“Bless,” says Hawks, “You okay?”

“Mm… yeah, just something really… stings,” Dabi replies. He’s knuckling the side of his nose with some force.

“You’re, uh, not getting sick are you?” Hawks asks, unable to conceal the tinge of nervousness that seeps into his tone. As much as he loves the man, he’s got some long days on patrol coming up soon, and a cold from Dabi would severely compromise him.

Dabi raises an eyebrow. “I’m not that much of an asshole, Kei.”

“Right-! Yeah, no, of course not. Sorry, I didn’t really think there.” Hawks grimaces internally at himself, and Dabi shakes his head.

“Ugh, Jesus, hold on–” He turns away again, breath wavering, “hehh’nGXKt!” A shaky exhale escapes from him as he releases his nose.

“So, what’s got you all worked up, then?” asks Hawks, teasing.

Dabi half-sighs, half-groans, and replies, “Don’t know, but I wish it would fucking stop.” As if for emphasis, the sentence is punctuated with an irritated-sounding sniffle.

“Well, it probably would if you stopped stifling like that,” Hawks says pointedly. That earns him a hazy blue-eyed glare… that doesn’t last long, since Dabi’s squinting again, and his mouth curls up into the beginnings of something akin to a snarl. Hawks smirks as he ducks into the crook of his sweater-clad elbow to muffle yet another sneeze.

“hehH’DSHHh’uh! What the fuck?”

At least he didn’t stifle it.

Hawks hums. “Bless you.” He sends a feather to retrieve a box of tissues, then decides the villain probably also needs some space, so he manoeuvres himself gracelessly off Dabi’s lap to sit beside him on the couch. 

“Very elegant,” Dabi remarks.

“Ugh, shut up,” he replies, elbowing Dabi in the ribs. The laugh this elicits almost straight away rises into a staggered gasp, that itself turns into a pair of hastily covered sneezes.

“hhahH’KXXTshuh! hh’huuhh’DZSHHhue!”

“Jeez, bless you.”

Dabi sniffles thickly. “Yeah.”

Hawks’ feather zips back into the room and drops a box of tissues into Dabi’s lap - the thicker, softer ones that the hero always insists on buying despite them being double the price of regular ones. 

“Sounds like they’re getting stronger,” Hawks observes, a note of concern in his tone, but then adds, more teasingly, “Not allergic to me, are you?”

Dabi scoffs and tugs a couple of tissues from the box. “I wish,” he says, scrubbing at his nose. “Then I’d actually have an excuse to avoid your annoying ass.”

“Wow, okay, that was so uncalled for. Just say you hate me at that point.”

It’s Dabi’s turn to elbow Hawks back. He probably deserves it. 

 “Ow, bitch,” he says in mock offence. 

“You’re the bitch,” comes the reply, from behind a handful of tissues (which are then promptly screwed up and tossed, flying in a neat arc, straight into the trash on the other side of the room). 

“Whatever, bitch. Are you done sneezing yet? This couch isn’t as comfy as your thighs-”

“Ugh, shut up, you are so weird,” Dabi interjects in fond disgust. 

“Oh my god, what if you’re allergic to my apartment being clean? Then I never have to clean ever again, hah!”

Dabi gives him a look. “You say that as a joke, but honestly, you migh-might be right…hh.. hehH’KXNTtsh’uh!”

Dabi’s expression falls midway through his sentence, brows drawing together and eyes narrowing as he gives into another sneeze, hastily half-stifled against the back of his hand.

“Seriously,” Hawks deadpans, eyebrows raised. That’s new, he thinks.

“Well, unless you’ve suddenly acquired a pet cat - which I doubt - then yeah, seriously,” says the villain flatly, though with a note of congestion starting to creep into his voice. “Last I checked, your place didn’t reek of fuckin’ –all of spring and then some.” 

Hawks suddenly remembers the air freshener he’d used–the only one he had, some floral one found right at the back of a cupboard, unused for entirely too long. He hadn’t had a clue what clean apartments were supposed to smell of, so he’d sort of just… went ham with it. Definitely a mistake.

“Don’t slander my choice in scents,” he teases, “Are you sure it’s… that?”

“Nothing else changed ‘round here, has it?” Dabi pauses to give his nose a brief rub. “I’m here practically every week and I’ve been fine, so, you tell me.”

Hawks will never not poke the bear when he’s got the opportunity, so he says, “So this does mean I never have to clean the place ever again, right?”

Dabi’s mouth falls open as he feigns offence. He says, dramatically, “Wow. That’s all you have to say? When I could literally die right now in front of you? I’m.. hah- I’m-”

Hawks snickers. “Bless you,” he sing-songs prematurely, utterly pleased with himself. It’s almost cute, the attempted glare Dabi gives him through his glazed over expression. Nobody can look menacing in the slightest when they’re trying not to sneeze (and that’s a fact!).

“Sh-shut uhhhp..” replies Dabi, his voice quavering. He lifts a hand slowly, bringing it to hover weakly before his face. His breathing is unsteady and his eyes half-lidded, and the crease between his dark brows deepens.

“Okay, point proven, idiot,” Hawks says with a laugh, “Just sneeze, this is torture even for me.”

The hazy glare returns, and Hawks clocks it. 

“Oh!” he laughs, giving Dabi a slightly bewildered smile. “Oh my god, I jinxed it. You deserve that ‘cause you’re mean to me.”

“I hahh-hate you-” Dabi responds breathily. He rubs at the side of his nose with two knuckles, pressing decently harder than is probably necessary. The bridge crinkles in irritation when the rubbing clearly has no effect. “Jesus, it won’t go away.”

“Mm, what a shame.”

There goes a third bleary glare from the villain. “I’d like to remind you wh-whose fault thhihhs.. was in the first place,” he says. Any malice intended to be behind his utterance is immediately negated by his breath catching and wavering through the words. Though, at a point, Hawks begins to feel a little… voyeuristic just watching Dabi struggle. Sure, he’s his boyfriend and all, and yeah, he’s definitely seen worse, but it’s easy to tell Dabi’s getting a little self-conscious about this… spectacle. He’s never been a fan of having things out of his control, especially not displays of vulnerability like this, and Hawks knows this, so why prolong it?

“Well, I guess there’s only one thing for it,” he says, taking matters into his own hands. 

“Fuck off- what–” Dabi gets out, as Hawks takes his face between his hands and begins to press kisses softly down the bridge of his nose. Hawks doesn’t let him twist away from it, trying not to laugh to himself about how dumb this probably looks. At least one of them is having fun. He considers pulling away with a “Gonna sneeze yet?”, but refrains - he’d probably end up on fire. He does, however, pause for a moment when he reaches Dabi’s trio of silver nose studs, hovering. There’ve been feathery, wavering breaths coming from his boyfriend consistently but, nothing has come to fruition, so Hawks decides–those piercings have always been sensitive, a fact he’d discovered about Dabi rather early on (and maybe, possibly sometimes used to be a menace). He plants a final, delicate kiss right upon where the three studs lie, and finally lets Dabi pull away.

“Oh, oh, fuck– s-screw you–hh’ehH’IIDTSSHh’uh! ‘kXXTS’SHhue! …Christ, you’re such an ass.” The pair of sneezes that result are harsh to say the very least. And even after all that, he still tries stifling the second– unsurprising, but at that point is it even worth it?

 “Sorry! I had to!” Hawks says, really trying to look like he isn’t laughing. It doesn’t work.

“You absolutely did not have to,” corrects Dabi. 

“Okaaay, okay, sorry. It was funny though.”

“Yeah, for you, maybe,” Dabi mutters, shaking his head, “Oh, fuck’s sake, hold on–”

“I’ll wait till you’re done to say bless you, this time,” says Hawks with a fond snicker. 

“Good plah-an–! hhuh’hHDSHH’SHuh! …Ugh, fuck.”

“Bless,” Hawks replies. He averts his eyes, a little sheepishly. Dabi pulls a face.

He asks, “What the fuck’s with the guilty face?” to which Hawks throws his head back with a groan and slides his hands across his face.

“I just wanted to do something nice,” he says, “You know, clean the place up a bit. Since it’s always kind of a massive mess.”

“Jesus, Kei, I don’t care about that,” says Dabi, breathing a laugh. “It’s you I’m here for, not your fuckin’ apartment. I can kiss you whether or not there’s crap on every surface.”

Hawks isn’t used to Dabi outright saying nice things, so his cheeks flush slightly hearing this. He’s unsure what to say. Thankfully, Dabi speaks again.

“Okay. Where didn’t you spray that shit?”

Hawks scoffs. “I sort of went crazy with it, uh… my bedroom? If that works?”

“Very forward,” Dabi replies, raising his eyebrows. “Almost like you wanted me in there.”

Hawks jabs him in the ribs but still smirks. “Yeah, maybe I did.”

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

why do u think people r so ashamed of loving danron??

I mean, honestly, there's a lot of reasons, which makes it kind of complicated to tackle. I can list out a few from the top of my head, based on personal experience Feeling the shame and observation of other fans

•The problematic content in the games themselves. People feel embarrassed to like the other parts of the game because of the amount of bigoted moments (and sometimes whole characters) within these games. They don't want people to think they like those parts too, so they couch their appreciation in embarrassment.

•The reputation of the fanbase. On tumblr at least, things have normalized significantly and I find this fandom a very chill place to be. But the danganronpa fandom at its peak (2012-2016ish) was RABID. Like any major tumblr fandom, there was tons of drama, discourse, and toxic fan behaviour, but DR was genuinely on another level. This is especially true because of the young average age of members of the fandom at the time. Even though thats not generally true anymore on tumblr, this fandom still has that reputation to non-fans, and so people don't want to be associated with it.

•Cringe culture. At its peak, the DR fandom on tumblr was made mostly of teens, especially younger teens. I think the earnest way young teens participate in fandom led to it being seen as cringe, just like many other fandoms. Also, even outside of its problematic content, DR's plot can be weird and, frankly, even completely ridiculous. Similar to hom/estuck, I think this esotericness adds to people's kneejerk reaction to it when hearing about it second hand.

•The tendency of tumblr to turn on popular media when the magic is gone. This is something I've noticed with a lot of tumblr's number 1 big fandoms. Once a lot of people's interest in it starts wearing off, for some reason people will pivot to hating it. It happened with T/MA a little, it happened with Und/ertale, it happened with S/U, and so many other fandoms that tumblr went crazy over initially. Maybe its because these fandoms became so vocal they started to annoy those not participating, so they started to meme and make fun of it and its fans. Then, when people start to leave as their interests change, they join in on the teasing to displace the shame they might've felt from being teased. Eventually, people usually turn around and come to appreciate the piece of media casually again. That didn't really happen with DR... probably because of the other three reasons.

DR gained this reputation of being "irredeemable, problematic, cringe media" with a toxic fanbase and never shook it off. Before I played DR, I knew nothing about it except that tumblr hated it, for some reason. I had learned literally nothing else through fandom osmosis! And I think that general feeling, that Good People who like Unproblematic Things* (*requirement of being a good person) would never touch DR with a 10 foot pole outside of to make fun of it, sticks with people.

So when people finally check it out, usually through irony-poisoned letsplays of it, and end up actually liking it, they don't know what to do with themselves. How do you balance genuinely liking this piece of media with the site-wide perception youve grown so used to? With the idea that everyone will hate you if they know you like it, that you are a bad person for even posting about it? And thats how you get everyone's first DR post having a caption essentially communicating "im so sorry for posting about dr- I know its terrible and associating myself with this game makes me look disgusting- people who've followed me up until now, please dont hate me!"

[softerhaze]

idk if it was the venus retrograde or what, but july 2023 was quite literally the worst month i've ever experienced in my life like.....every single day? awful? worse than the last? it's more likely than u think

[skitskatdacat63]

He is so 🤏

+

[fure-dcmk]

SPIRITUALLY REBLOGGING YOUR KAIHEI WIP TEN BILLION TIMES IN MY MIND i love your stuff so much… going bonkers…

AND A BILLION KISSES TO YOU SWEET ANON THANKS FOR ENABLING THE INDULGENT CONTENT

here is reblog-able dramatic kaihei just for you 😚