#and i did not want to talk about it to anyone. did not want them asking questions did not want them accusing me of sh*t

[nadas-dirthalen]

Societal Change in Dragon Age: the Veilguard

I've seen a lot of posts about how Veilguard doesn't really "move the needle" with Thedas' politics, so to speak. While this isn't a callout of any specific one of them (note the lack of links! this isn't about anyone), I wanted to talk about some changes I saw during my first two runs of Veilguard.

I also want to say that a lot of the changes we saw happen in the world of Inquisition also did not involve direct input from the Inquisitor. Dorian, for instance, was always going to go back to Tevinter and make change. The mage-templar war reaches a peaceful(ish) ending no matter which side the Inquisitor chooses to back. The Chantry moves forward after Justinia's death no matter who becomes Divine. The nobles are mad no matter who is made emperor/empress of Orlais. The Dalish flock to Fen'Harel after Trespasser no matter what.

That said... here's what I can remember off the top of my head.

Arlathan Forest and the Elves:

The Dalish got their land back. While the real-world Land Back movement is (obviously!) far more complex and far-reaching than can be portrayed within a companion quest in a video game, the fact remains: in my playthrough, not only did the Veil Jumpers (and by extension, the Dalish) get Arlathan Forest back, the magic there also stabilized. (Editing Note: this stabilization is implied through the slide with high faction strength, and stated outright in the ending with low faction strength, which says, "For the Veil Jumpers, the fall of the last elven gods left raw magic and chaos in its wake." Rook, therefore, decides whether Arlathan is habitable or not, since Arlathan's magic is described as fatal for most people during banter with a Veil Jumper Rook.)

The elves potentially also get their ancient knowledge back. Depending on what you chose for the Nadas Dirthalen, the Dalish potentially got a lot of their old technology and knowledge back, potentially putting them even further ahead in terms of magical technology than Tevinter in some areas.

... Or the Veil Jumpers chose a different path forward for the elves. If the Nadas Dirthalen was kept hidden, Rook and Bellara chose a path where the Dalish refuse to become like their predecessors, forever changing the path of Dalish reclamation efforts. The Dalish, then, become something other than what their ancestors were. Either way, the Dalish are significantly impacted.

(if the griffons were given back to Arlathan) An apex predator was returned to Arlathan. If you want to read more about how cool of a change this is, I suggest reading about how cool it is that wolves were reintroduced to Yellowstone.

(added in edits) The truth about the Evanuris is well-known, or will be soon. Davrin says that while he did not notify many Dalish about the truth of the Evanuris during the events of Veilguard, it is the Veilguard's duty to inform them after. The same will likely prove true with Andrastians, and the Chantry at large. The truth will soon come to light—and even though rapid religious change has already been undergone once because of the cause of the Blights (Tevinter moved away from the worship of their old gods, save for the Venatori, because their old gods were the archdemons spearheading the Blights), the elves are already victims of prejudice in Thedas. The Chantry's response to the truth will likely be influenced by that prejudice. HOWEVER, it is my firm belief that the Evanuris also exist in the Chant of Light as the Maker's first children, and that truth being revealed or uncovered simultaneously has the potential to change the shape of the public's response across Thedas.

Kal-Sharok, Orzammar, and the Dwarves:

The titans' history has been remembered. Remember in Descent where it was said very prominently that Orzammar had struck all memories of the titans? That something political was motivating how the titans were entirely forgotten about? Now, thanks to the events of Veilguard, there is no turning back. No amount of suppression can make the world forget the titans now.

DWARVES. HAVE. MAGIC. NOW. Read that ending slide again! "The dwarven people rediscovering their lost magic, and their connection to the Stone." This is something the dwarven people have not had for literal millennia, and it's thanks to ROOK and HARDING that this change has taken root! Not Valta, but Rook!

Kal-Sharok continues to become more known to the world after being sealed off. We continue to get closer to understanding exactly what happened to Kal-Sharok after it was sealed off, and this is going to inform our understanding of the titans and the blight even more as time goes on.

Healing the titans has huge implications for the existence of red lyrium. Between Solas doing what he can (in his good endings) to soothe the blight's anger and (more importantly) dwarves connected to the Stone like Harding doing work to soothe the titans' anger on Thedas itself, we will likely see red lyrium gradually fade away all across Thedas.

The caste system of the dwarves is likely to be impacted by recent revelations. Regardless of what, exactly, is chosen going forward, it is clear the dwarves will take a good look at their own beliefs and practices about the Stone now that the truth about the titans has come to light. Their feelings about surface dwarves versus those who live purely underground are likely to be impacted here! I can't wait to see dwarf politics in DA5!

The Grey Wardens & Weisshaupt:

The Wardens don't hear the Calling anymore thanks to Rook's actions. You know... the thing that defines the life of a Warden? The thing that shortens their lifespan? That's gone. This has been a PILLAR of their organization since Origins, and the absence of the Calling is absolutely going to lead to massive change within the Wardens.

The blight is less virulent—AKA, it is greatly weakened, and has died in some parts of Thedas. Yes, completely. Read that again. Read that as many times as it takes for it to sink in. The blight has been a huge, looming threat for over one thousand years. For the first time ever, it is on its way out. Perhaps for good.

For the first time, new growth is coming back to the Anderfels and other blighted areas on Thedas. Discovering this—and keeping the Wardens alive long enough to discover this—is forever going to change the directives of the Wardens and the lands that were previously too blighted to thrive. The Anderfels, we know, are coming back to life—but some other zones that come to mind here are the Silent Plains, parts of Antiva, Denerim... anywhere a Blight ended in the past, or anywhere that the blight completely overtook in the past.

Minrathous:

An abolitionist sits on the Archon's throne!!! For the first time ever, someone who wants to end slavery is the head of Tevinter government. This is a huge step forward for the movement to end Tevinter slavery, which has had to exist in the shadows more or less until now (which we see even in the upper echelons of the altus class, in Maevaris, who was kicked out of the Magisterium for her anti-slavery views).

(added in edits) The Imperial Divine is also an abolitionist. While I did not include this point earlier because Rook has no hand in selecting Ashur/the Viper as the Divine, it is important context by the game's ending. Having abolitionists as Archon and Divine means there is tremendous potential for rapid, popular change in Tevinter. I am very excited to see where this goes in DA5!

The blight died in Minrathous when Elgar'nan was slain. Not just eased. Died. Because Minrathous was the epicenter for what happened to the Veil and the blight at the time, all blight in the city is dead. This proves that the blight can truly be ended, as well as cured. That's not secret knowledge anymore, if all of Minrathous knows it.

Treviso:

The Crows have been changed by Teia and Viago's actions during Veilguard. No matter if Treviso is blighted or not, Teia and Viago have brought the Crows into a different sphere than perhaps they were under Talons like Aranai in Origins. The Crows have a direct part to play not just in the governance of Antiva (which we knew about) but the governance of individual cities and even the organization of Antiva's military power. This was less prevalent before Veilguard (because we weren't in Antiva, but also because Antiva didn't have a Blight to defend against), but now that the Crows have stood against the Final Blight, there's no going back from the precedent their actions have set.

The Crows have a new First Talon—one who will undoubtedly bring reform. While Lucanis is no stranger to murder and there's no doubt in my mind that the Crows will continue doing just that, Teia and Viago now have a lot more pull within the Crows (and their humanitarian efforts by extension) because one of their closest allies is now First Talon.

Rivain & the Antaam:

An influx of former Antaam are potentially joining the existing Qunari in Rivain. By appealing to Antaam deserters, Taash and their allies are showing that there is a life possible for kossith (Qunari) outside of the teachings of the Qun—without attacking/invading under the orders of the Arishok. We have not seen this on this grand a scale before, and it will be fascinating to see what ripple effect this has on the rest of Qunari culture.

There is a gap left by the Antaam within Qunari society, too. While not tackled upfront in Veilguard, the fact remains that one of the three pillars of Qunari society left the Qun. Whether this is the entirety of the Antaam or a significant part of its forces, I don't know, but this will have destabilized the Qunari and will open the way for a lot of questions and change within their own society, too.

Knowledge about the adaari and about who the Qunari were before Thedas is emerging. We've seen with the elves and dwarves that when this kind of history is revealed over time, great changes happen within societies in Thedas. I can't wait to see what that means for the kossith/Qunari!

The Necropolis & the Mourn Watch:

The Mourn Watch are aware that an entire lineage of people on Thedas were spirits that took physical shape by crafting bodies made of lyrium. Knowledge of spirits has tremendously shifted. This changes the understanding of what a spirit even is, versus the soul of a living person.

(if Manfred is alive) It is increasingly apparent that spirits "grow" and mature in the same way that living children do, becoming more complex over time. This has big implications for the recognition of spirits as their own sort of people—not just in Nevarra, but everywhere.

It will soon become more common knowledge that the existence of the Veil is what ended elven immortality. This changes everything that the Mourn Watch knows about what mortality even is!

With the blight less virulent, it is possible that other cultures in Thedas start burying their dead, rather than cremating them. This could lead to a widespread rise in necromancy and/or Nevarran belief!

Orlais:

Orlais endured a rebellion of its noble class. While we can presume that their monarch survived it (and therefore probably cemented themselves as an effective leader, surviving the Final Blight and rebellion), there is just as much to be said for if they did not survive it (which would throw Orlais into political turmoil all over again). Either way, Orlais looks different as a political power going forward.

Val Royeaux—the seat of the Southern Chantry and its Divine—fell. While listed as under rebel control, I think there is just as much to be said here: the Orlesian people were likely shaken by the fall of Val Royeaux, and combined with the knowledge that will come of the Evanuris, the titans, and the Andrastian faith after the events of Veilguard, I can see a shift in how Andrastianism is perceived in Orlais, and the South as a whole.

Ferelden:

The Chasind and Avvar have allied themselves with Fereldan leaders, a shift from their former lives secluded from other Fereldan humans after a prior history of conflict with them.

Ferelden made an attempt at peace with Orlais. Whether this attempt was answered remains unclear due to communication difficulties during the worst of the Final Blight, but the Fereldan envoys were not attacked outright. This suggests that tensions between Ferelden and Orlais cooled, if even a little bit. However, it is unclear if this will remain true, given that Orlais might be in a weaker position than Ferelden due to this late lapse in communication.

Free Marches:

The Free Marches united under Prince Vael. From a quick look at the wiki, it's been 700 years since unification was even attempted.

The Free Marches fared better against the Blight than Orlais and Ferelden, and were even marching south to lend aid to Ferelden by the game's finale.

__

And there you have it! That's what I can think of that has changed in Thedas, either because of Rook or not because of Rook, in Veilguard. And again: many changes in Inquisition were either not the Inquisitor's choice (like Dorian going home, or the truth of the Evanuris being revealed over time) or did not have consequences that led into the next game (even in DAI's epilogue, before Veilguard, the nobles are upset whether Celene or Gaspard are on the throne).

But one thing is true: whether you enjoyed Veilguard or not, it is not true that nothing happened during the game. Much did! The Veil may not have come down, and Rook may not have had an omniscient perspective looking down on Thedas at changes outside their immediate scope, but the world did change around them.

[clockwork-hearted]

This was the first queer movie I watched in high school. I remember finally having good, strong WiFi and exploring YouTube one night. Was using my refurbished MacBook that I begged my dad to get me so I can have something to use for school.

I don’t remember how exactly I came across this movie (honestly was probably going through some YouTube rabbit hole of “movies where guys make out” or the classic “two men kissing” search), but it was the full length movie. And it was free.

I was so excited to watch it and see what kind of guy on guy action I would get to see. But being forced to stay in the closet growing up, I couldn’t just outright watch this movie while my parents were home.

So I bookmarked it. Made sure I even saved the link somewhere. And had to wait until my parents weren’t home.

Thankfully, I ended up realizing that I was a teen that was allowed to stay up late on the weekends. So I stayed up, waited until both my parents were in their rooms, fast asleep, and then I went into my room, closed the door (couldn’t lock it though. Locking bedroom doors was an offense that would cause a scene every time for absolutely no reason), plugged my headphones in, and snuggled up and watched it.

I remember sitting upright to start it then getting tired and deciding to lay down. Ended up laying the laptop on its side just so I could keep watching haha

And I remember going through the rollercoaster of emotions seeing these two characters having a connection but being so twisted up about it. Regardless of everything they went through, I still wanted that. I still wanted someone I could kiss passionately. Someone I could go to bed with and wake up next to in our own little world. Someone I could go to the beach with and spend all day with. Someone who wanted to push me for my abilities (don’t have any but it played into my fantasies lol) and strive to be the best I could be at them.

And then reaching the end of the movie and being so happy with it. I remember crying. Crying so much that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop. I remember shoving my face in my pillows to try and muffle my crying.

Oh, I learned to cry silently so very quick in my home. How I learned what it meant to be even more suppressed than I already was. How I had to learn to hold back all the choking sounds my throat would utter and just let the tears flow. Silently blowing my nose into tissues so I wouldn’t wake my parents and cause a scene.

“Why are you crying? What’s happening? What did you watch? What’s going on? Etc. etc. etc.” - yeah, like I was going to come clean about my emotions and be able to talk these things out. Pht. How I wished and how I dreamed that I could. Would’ve made growing up easier. But I didn’t have those kinds of parents.

So the first night I watched this movie, it meant a lot in such little time. Movies like this really saved me as a teen.

I started doing a deep dive into any and all other queer movies I could find online for free (but that’s a story for a different time).

Tbh, I had forgotten about this gem of a movie. Made me feel a little guilty for forgetting, mostly because it really helped me continue pretending, and knowing that one day I would find someone to experience beautiful moments with. It allowed me to realize that queer media (that wasn’t porn) was out there, that I didn’t have to feel alone, and that it was only a few key strokes and google searches away.

For anyone who read through this whole thing (I know I blabbed, but I really needed to get this off my chest and my mind), thank you.

And I also hope that even though the world can feel so against you, even in spaces that are supposed to be safe, that there are people out there that know and understand you and can relate to how you feel.

I know it’s always easier said than done, but hang in there. And if it all gets to be too suffocating, please remember there are resources out there to help. But please, please, please, don’t get snuffed out. Let yourself burn as bright as you can. Because at the end of the day, you will always find Shelter- whether it’s with family members, friends, teachers, chosen/adoptive families, online communities, etc. you will find it. And you will be safe. And you will be loved.

I wish you all the very best. May this movie and many others bring you as much joy as it did to me. <3

Shelter (2007) dir. Jonah Markowitz

[viktorsblanket]

SFW & NSFW Viktor HC’s

Notes — idk if I will write more of Viktor, I love him so much so I might come back to write about arcane..

MENTIONS — S1 Viktor, Sex mentions, fluff, smut, GN!Reader.

— Viktor doesn’t like being called ‘Vik’ or ‘V’ with other people, but with you he allows it. He finds it a term of endearment from you.

— When Viktor works on the hexcore, he doesn’t like anyone seeing him in there, as for he seems ‘vulnerable’ and too engulfed in his work. Though after he finished you’d immediately go to check on him to see if he was fine, as much as he tried to dismiss you, you wouldn’t leave. You held him for a bit and comforted for a bit. Hoping he’d go easy on himself.

— Viktor secretly loves when you’re clingy, he isn’t good at taking compliments but loves when you do so. It makes him feel special..

— Viktor occasionally talks about where he grew up, zaun, he appreciates when you don’t judge or talk bad about where he grew up as a child since most do.

— Viktor isn’t a shy type, he’s just antisocial. He does time from time given you soft kisses on your forehead, lips, cheek, wherever he can reach…

— Viktor loves when the both of you have alone time, just means he can spoil you with attention more.

— Viktor calls you nicknames in Czechia..such as, sweetheart, my love, darling, my sweet, etc. he loves the confused but flustered look on your face when he does so.

— during intercourse, Viktor will also call you those names in Czechia, as well as speak a bit of it to you and praise you by how good you were doing.

— Viktor is very gentle when it comes to you, especially you. He is quite fragile himself but he will always ask you in the middle of sex if you’re okay and if you need a break..he had that look of worry and concern over his face when he did so, wanting to make sure the love of his life is comfortable..

— due to Viktor’s leg and spine not functioning how it normally should, you help him out and even do positions that are comfortable for him, such as him laying down as you rode him, or him sitting in a chair as your limbs were wrapped around him unable to move except take him..

— Viktor is never rough with you..he always makes sure even in bed he treats you like a delicate flower, he loves you too much to ever hurt you. He feels slightly bad when he leaves hickeys on your skin, but at the same time he loves seeing that he’s marked you.

— Viktor is obsessed with your legs/thighs. He loves to push them back, hold onto them, touch them, and even thigh fuck you..he loves how soft and plush they are. He loves the size difference between you both, how you’re bigger than him but he’s still slightly taller than you. And yes. He can handle all of that😼

— sometimes Viktor can get on top of you depending on the way his body is feeling..he’d hold your thighs back, gripping them, as he went completely balls deep inside you.

— Viktor whispers soft praises and sweet nothings into your ear as you take all of him.

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter four. doors and burgers

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pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 2.2k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, panic attack, boobies lol, Scarlett should be her own warning, daddy issues,

authors note ⇢ sorry that i messed up on my last post yall!! i confused scarlett with heather. she was supposed to be Heather but i was like….. heathers get too much crap thank you conan 😒 and i forgot to change it lol sorry!!! also i rewrote this like five times and i this was the one i was most satisfied with, so enjoy!!

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Scarlett leaves from what you can tell. People are talking about the kitchen debacle and there are mixed reviews. Some are still kissing Scarlett’s ass, others don’t like her any longer. But it doesn’t seem anyone’s on your side. You’re still invisible. You’ve since taken off your jacket that was drenched and Rafe has given you his. It’s big but it doesn’t cover you entirely, and that makes you feel so damn embarrassed.

Despite your mission being to get Jonah to see you, neither of you can find him anywhere. Kiara and Sarah had their eyes out for him as well but they’ve since lost the mission at hand. Now, you’re all sat in the living room where there are a few people dancing around Sarah who’s singing obnoxiously bad on the karaoke machine. No one has any idea where it came from but everyone is loving it.

You’re clapping along with Kiara, laughing when Sarah messes up another lyric and blames the song. For the first time in what seems like a long time, Rafe isn’t drinking. He isn’t doing much of anything but staying by your side. He’s sitting beside you, watching his sister with amusement. He refuses to clap though, only doing it when you reach over to lift his hands and make him clap.

It’s Kiara’s turn to sing when you get up off the couch and look for the bathroom in the huge figure 8 house. The home has photographs scattered, a happy family shown in them all. It might just be the beer in you that makes you want to cry. You’ve seen the kid around school before and he isn’t anything to you. Anything at all. But you’re wishing him the best. Yeah, you realize it’s the beer.

You stumble into a random room and let out a screech when a body gets up from a bed.

“What are you doing here?” Jonah’s voice sends a flutter through your belly. Your belly. Your stomach. You take a hold of Rafe’s jacket and tighten it around yourself, hiding your body from the guy you want badly.

“Oh… uhm…” you wipe the tears from your eyes that had bled out at the family pictures. “I’m looking for the bathroom.”

He’s immediately up on his feet at the sight of your tears. Your eyes widen when his hands take a hold of your round face and examines you carefully. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Your breath hitches at the feel of his warm hand. It’s soft. Far too soft for a man who puts his all into the gym and football. “Oh? I… uhm… haha, what? Yeah? I'm… I’m fine. Just…” you sniffle and gently move his hand from your face. You’re refusing to meet his eyes,shy about your sadness. “The pictures… they look so happy.”

The look on his face makes you want to run away. And then, he laughs. “You’re crying because Tommy and his family look happy?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, stuck. “It’s not a bad thing.” Are his words when he seems to realize how stunned you feel. “It’s… adorable.”

You fumble your words, “oh, I, uhm, yeah, okay, that’s… yeah.” To have the guy you’ve been into for years call you such a word is a rush. A scary one. But you like it. And whatever it is you did, you wish you could keep doing it until he saw you as you saw him. Perfect.

You’re still standing by the door of the random bedroom and it’d be easy to just run off. But you can’t. Making a fool of yourself in front of Jonah will only make your plan harder. And Rafe would kill you for letting his effort go to waste. “What are you doing in here?” It comes out more abrasive than you wished, internally scolding yourself.

But he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, he takes his seat back on the bed and shrugs. “It’s noisy.”

You understand. You really, really do. And you want to say it aloud but your tongue is tied as you watch him throw his head back, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows gently. After a moment, you semi-gather yourself. “Did you leave cause of Sarah?” You joke lightly. “That’s what made me leave.”

This garners a soft laugh out of him and you want to jump up and squeal. But Rafe told you to act nonchalant. “Yeah, she’s certainly… singing.”

You take one step away from the door. Just one. You were going to sit beside him. You were going to talk to him. Really talk to him.

The door behind you swings open and hits your head. Hard. “What the fuck?” Jonah’s quick on his feet, rushing to you in a panic. You turn to look at the culprit and your frown turns into a glare. Rafe.

“What the fuck, Rafe?!” You hiss, sending a punch to his shoulder.

“Why were you standing so near the door?!”

“Why would you swing it open like a maniac?!”

“It’s not my fault you were standing there—“

“Maybe don’t open doors like that—“

“Oh, shut up, do you ever not complain—“

“Says you! You’re, like, the king of complaining—“

“King? King—“

“Should I leave?” Jonah’s soft voice speaks and you shove Rafe’s face as you look at him and smile.

“N-no, you shouldn’t have to. He was just leaving.”

“I was? I don’t— ow, fuck, okay, I’m leaving.”

The mood was ruined. Whatever mood Jonah was in was gone. And so was your confidence. It's awkward as you sit next to him on the bed. The palm of your hands are on your knees, anxiously rubbing at them. He’s laid back on the bed, arm crossed over his eyes, the only thing telling you he’s up is the soft twitch of his fingers.

“Does it hurt?” His voice cuts through the thick silence.

Panicked, you glance over at him with wide eyes. “Does… does what hurt?”

“Your head. He opened the door pretty hard.” He still doesn’t move from his position and you’re grateful he’s not looking at you. You do better when people can’t perceive you.

“Oh, my head… yeah, it’s fine, doesn’t hurt. I-it’s a little sore but I’ll make him pay for it.” You shrug, fixing Rafe’s jacket on your body.

“You two are close.” It’s supposed to be a question. It doesn’t sound like one.

You shake your head despite his eyes being covered up. “Not really. I… he’s nice but we’re not like friends.”

He sits back up and this makes you tense up, looking straight ahead at that damn door you hate now. “Just never seen him with anyone but his same three friends.”

“I’m friends with Sarah. We’re just… around each other more.” It’s a lie. But you don’t believe Rafe would want people to know just how much time you’re really spending together. The less people that know, the better.

“You and Scarlett are really done?” He questions, eyes on you. But you can’t look over at him. You’re stiff and awkward and unsure of how to act around him.

You nod softly, “y-yeah… she’s, uhm, not a very nice person.”

It’s quiet for another moment. “She’s been running her mouth about you. Calling you names. Really bad names. And all you can say is ‘she's not nice’?”

Hearing that she’s still talking about you is a punch to the guy and suddenly you don’t care about your crush. You don’t care that you two are sitting so close to each other. All you can think is how horrible she truly is. How blinded you were. And how stupid you feel for missing her. “Well… just because others are doing bad things, doesn’t mean I should. Be the bigger person and whatnot.” You let out a small and awkward laugh to try and shrug off what you’re really feeling.

“Wow.” Are his words as he gets up off the bed and walks to the dresser of the bedroom and picking up a magazine. “You’re really not like other girls.” An even bigger punch to the gut. Logically, you know he’s trying to be kind. He’s only saying this to make you feel better, your feelings on Scarlett written all over your face.

You don’t wear makeup, not like other girls do. You don’t dress up, not like other girls do. You don’t giggle over guys, not like other girls do. You don’t go out and have fun, not like other girls do. But you want to do it all. You want to be like other girls. You never felt worth it. Lipstick on a pig. You’re too big to fit trendy clothes. You don’t giggle over guys because they’d be disgusted that you’re into them. You don’t go out because you’d be the biggest out of the group of girls that are around you. You’d be an eyesore.

In a frantic move, you get up off the bed. “Right. Well, I, uh… I have to go.”

“Huh? What—“ but you don’t pay any attention to his words as you rush out of the random bedroom. There are kids littering the hallway. The steps are being used as seats, shoving people slightly as you go. The music is loud. Too loud. You can feel it bouncing in your eardrums and filling your already muddled thoughts. Theres nothing you can think about other than getting out of that damn house. And in your panicked stupor, you can’t find the damn. The house is too damn big.

There’s a couple making out in the bathroom when you rush inside and when they see the fear in your eyes, they rush out, leaving you to be.

The drive isn’t awkward. Not like you thought it would be. He didn’t question you. And despite his last text, he didn’t bring it up. And you’re grateful he didn’t.

“Where are we going?” You ask when you realize you’re headed downtown. “I want to go home, Rafe.”

He shrugs, hands on the wheel. “I’m hungry. We’re just stopping by The Wreck real quick.”

He doesn’t ask you to get down with him. He parks, heads inside, and he’s out fifteen minutes later. But he doesn’t start driving. In fact, he immediately takes a bite out of his burger, your food untouched on your lap.

“You’re not gonna eat?” He asks with his mouth full, but you don’t grimace like you should. You grab a napkin and hands it to him but he shakes his head refusing it.

“You’re dirty.”

“And you’re not eating.” He swallows his food.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re lying.”

“So because I'm fat, I must be hungry?” It’s a joke but the look he gives you tells you he’s not amused in the slightest. “Tough crowd. Seriously, I'm not hungry.”

“Is this that thing where you don’t eat in front of people cause you’re with a guy? Sarah told me it’s some shit she does.”

“It’s that thing where I’m not hungry, actually.” But it smells divine. Usually, you’d happily eat this but after tonight, you’re not sure if you’ll ever eat greasy foods again.

He scoffs, putting his burger down and holding a fry up at you. “Try the fry.”

“You try the fry.”

“I already did. Seriously, my mom had this trick while we were growing up. Sarah always swore she wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t get anything to eat but she’d make her try something from the plate to realize how hungry she really was.”

“How old was she?”

“My mom? She was pushing forty.”

You glare at the proud look on his face at his joke. “Sarah, stupid.”

“I don’t know… seven?”

“You’re treating me like a seven year old?”

“Try. The. Fry.” He swipes it across your lips and this gets a laugh out of you, shoving him away.

“Okay, okay! I’ll eat a fry. But that one has lipstick all over it now.” You pick a fry from his and he squints his eyes at you.

“You have a perfectly good batch.”

You pop the fry into your mouth with a content smile. “Not as good as yours.” And he was right. The salt and buttery soft fry proved to be true— you are hungry.

With a sigh, you grab your burger and say— “okay… just… don’t look.”

This amuses him. “Don’t look at you eat your burger? Well, there goes my spank bank.”

“Ew, Rafe!” You laugh, nose scrunching at his crude words.

You take a bite of your burger. And it’s absolutely delicious. Just like you knew it would be. Instead of worrying over stuffed up cheeks or looking fat while eating, you share laughs, mouths full and not a single care.

taglist. @pinkyqily @chalahyung01 @lunalvrsblog @teenwolfbitches28 @jayjsbaby @yawnzshit @mytimeiswaiting @tsshifting @always-reading @chimchimjiminie16 @ayy1234567 @acidfeens @congratsloserr @murdockcastleslut @cl4uus @clairesblouse @ange111 @daddydraco @wtfdudesblog @honk4emoboyz @fionaapplelover2010 @raiemarine @totonella1 @lilmixed-girl @enjoymyloves @darlingisntit @c1gsaftewhat @lil-sparklqueen @bambisribbon @easybakeoven7 @vviolets444rroses @aesthetic-lyss @dr3wstarkey @sleepmaster69 @yose2123 @aligned-starz @vex-et-soleil (if your name is red, it’s not letting me tag you for some reason, sorry!)

[playnextdoor]

dating modern abby headcannons

cw: both sfw and nsfw

Abby didn’t know naps could be a luxury until she met you. She was always on her feet, never stopping long enough to close her eyes for a "weak" 30 minutes. But now? That quick nap became her personal slice of heaven. Her cranky, sleep-deprived self would curl up next to you, her face buried in your neck. By the time she woke, she’d be all sunshine, grinning like she hadn’t just been grumbling an hour ago.

Sweet tooth!!!!!!! She loves sweets, especially dark chocolate. If you ever peek into her bedside drawer, you’ll find a nearly demolished chocolate bar waiting for her nightly ritual.

“What?” she says with a shrug, stuffing a square into her mouth. “I like a piece of chocolate before bed,” Her eyebrows furrow as she chews, eyeing you like you’re judging her life choices.

“Nothing,” you chuckle, watching her puffed cheeks work overtime. “I never met anyone who would do that.”

Her arms crossed immediately, mock-offended. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my god, Abigal, nothing, it’s cute.” You lean in, silencing her pout with a kiss, the faint bitterness of chocolate lingering on her lips.

Abby has a thing for books. Not just reading them—collecting them. We’re talking first editions, special releases, and rare overseas copies. This girl gets down. Her study practially a library, shelves nearly touching the ceiling filled with books, some on display and some in special casings. You even catch her one day, headphones blasting as she carefully and meticulously cleaned some of the books. The music was so opposite to what she was doing, her hands handling the covers so carefully. Instantly wet holyyyyyy

This goes with her being veryyyy clean and organized. It was so cute when you snooped in her drawers, her undergarments folded up so neatly in rows, and her socks in perfect little squares. 

She likes her space, which you understood very early in the relationship. Sometimes, the two of you would be on separate ends of the couch, her playing some game on the TV while you color in your coloring books, or when she would carve out days for the two of you and then days for just her. She loved you dearly, and it was just that she needed the only time to recharge.

Really into speakeasies. It’s her preferred place to grab a drink with you. The dim lighting, quiet atmosphere, and cozy corners make it her ideal date spot. She also likes sitting with you in some dimly lit corner, you more tipsy than her, laughing hysterically at some awful joke she said. If you really wanted to go to a club and shake ass, you bet Abby is going to take you, but she’s just gonna stand behind you like an awkward teenage boy getting grinded on for the first time.

This girl is not big on PDA, sorry not sorry. She’ll hold your hand, wrap her arm around you, maybe a kiss here and there, but she will most likely shy away from anything else, not that she’s embarrassed, she prefers to keep things just for you and her.

Food is Abby’s love language! Loves cooking, loves trying new places, loves eating, period. How else do you think she keeps her physique?

Speaking of muscles, the gym is practically her second home. She’s not a gym rat per se, but she’s got a solid routine, especially when it comes to upper body days. She loves how her arms look in T-shirts, but she loves that you love them even more.

Keys clanked into the trinket dish as Abby slipped off her shoes. Just getting back from the gym, all she is thinking about is going straight to the shower; once wet with sweat, her shirt feels disgusting on her. She sees you eyeing her from the kitchen, occasionally looking up from your phone, eyes lingering on her bulging arms; the pump did her good today because you’re ready to strip naked right there. She flashes a knowing smile as she puts her things away. She strides towards you, coming next to you to place a kiss on your head.

“How was the gym?” turning off your phone to provide her the full attention she most definitely deserved, hand creeping to caress the veins that littered down her forearms all the way up to the hard muscle on her bicep, squeezing it.

Abby just watches you, smile bitten back as you look almost in awe at how fucking massive her arms are, your sweet eyes meeting up to hers.

“Good,” she murmurs, watching your fascination. Her voice drops, low and teasing. “Something on your mind?”

“Mmm,” you hum, nails raking lightly over her back. She groans softly, and you know exactly where this is going.

nsfw

Boobs. Loves boobies. Likes to look at them, have them in her hands, in her mouth. Sure, she appreciates your ass—who wouldn’t? But there’s just something about slipping your nipple into her mouth, especially in those early morning hours. The sensation wakes you in a frenzy, loving how Abby does this for herself. Or when the two are cuddling, she’ll sometimes lay her face in them, the warmth of your scent lulling her to sleep.

Pronebone is her favorite position aside from missionary. Any time and any day, she is tightening the straps and fucking you into the mattress.

Speaking of tightening straps, the first time you did it, Abby nearly came, hips stuttering as she felt the firm tug of your hand tightening one of the straps that sat at her hip. Lord have mercyyy just thinking about how she would just pant above you, her golden hair cascading around your face like a curtain. Her hips moved against yours in a rhythm so devastatingly slow and deliberate hnghhhhhhh

Stone top AT FIRST. She told you right before your first time together, you didn’t mind, genuinely. You have always been on both the receiving and giving end, so you were willing to be open for your girlfriend. And fuck how much it turned you on when Abby would slip a hand in her own pants as she ate you out, nearly heaving into you as you both came. It wasn't until a couple of months into the relationship that you asked.

Grinding down on her jean-clad thigh, the rough seam pressed perfectly against your cunt, drawing out a needy whimper that matched the low groans spilling from Abby’s lips. Her soft “mhm’s” spurred you on, the delicious friction pulling the two of you deeper.

Abby didn’t know what shifted in her—it might have been when you slid to your knees with a slow, deliberate grace, your nails dragging down her thighs. Her body moved instinctively, thighs spreading wide as if something had taken over her.

Or maybe it was when you pressed your cheek near where you needed her the most. Her hand came to caress your head, finding it so endearing how eager you had been all night, your fingers lingering for just a second longer, lips finding solace in her neck as you murmured how bad you needed her. She should have known you were going to beg eventually.

“Abby, please.”

You didn’t even need to elaborate, eyes were locked on the belt still fastened at her waist, the buckle catching the light and taunting you. Her own gaze, glossy and heavy with want, flickered down to meet yours.

Fuck. How could she possibly say no?

She can get rough if you would like, but she prefers to cuddlefuck than to fuck you upside down and sideways.

This goes back to the pronebone position, something you didn’t even know had a name until you tried explaining it to Abby in a very clumsy, very horny way. After that, Abby does it at least once when you guys have sex.

She’ll have your face down, your elbows digging into the bed as she fucked your leaking cunt with two thick fingers. Abby always took her time, kissing up the curve of your ass, her lips soft and warm against your heated skin. When she finally slipped her fingers out, you’d whimper in protest, only for her strong hands to press you further into the bed, spreading you open as her groan mingled with yours. The blanket so warm underneath you, mixing with the weight of her body and hands on you, have you in such a blissful haze.

“Yeah?” Abby asked, her voice low and breathless. You could barely process what she was saying, too lost in the feeling, but you nodded eagerly into the pillow, pushing your ass higher in response.

Chuckling, she sat perched on the backs of your thighs, holding you in place as she made your body tremble with anticipation. Sliding up and down with the tip of her black 6 1/2-inch faux cock it only makes you wiggle around impatiently. With a teasing pinch to your thigh to remind you to relax she finally shifts, pushing its length into you so slow you nearly grab it to put it in yourself. The stretch had your whimpers climbing into desperate, high-pitched cries muffled by the pillows. The pillows do what you need them to do because if you remove them, people will think someone is dying in there. Well, kind of, don't the french say orgasm means "tiny death"? Yeah that was happening.

Prefers if you orgasm first. She claims her own release isn't as satisfying when you don't.

“I dunno, Abby.”

The words escaped in a soft gasp as you abruptly sat up. Abby’s lips popped off your mound, glossy and parted, her wide eyes locking on yours in utter confusion. “I can’t…”

Her brows furrowed, her head tilting slightly as if to ask why in the world you’d stop her now. “Can’t what?” she asked, inching closer like she didn’t plan on letting you go anywhere.

“Cum,” you admitted, pushing her head away gently, though you both knew she wouldn’t take kindly to it.

Sure enough, she shook your hand off and gave you a look that could only be described as determined.

“Stop. Lay your ass down."

Before you could protest, she scoots you closer, which causes you to fall back into the mattress, her lips finding the inside of your thighs, skin slightly tacky from her spit and your slickness.

“No, like actually,” you said again, sitting up despite her best efforts to keep you in place, your legs starting to close instinctively.

Abby pouts, and you can’t help but mimic her expression because this poor girl has been following you around like a lovesick puppy ever since you got home from work, clearly bored and horny, while you were too stressed and tired to even think about anything else. She was all smooth with it, too, claiming she was going to “put you to bed,” but your head was still spinning with thoughts of annoying coworkers and unfinished tasks. You were too far in your own head to focus on the woman between your legs who was clearly trying to help.

Her warm hands found your shoulders, pressing with that unique weight only she carried, her thumbs kneading gently. The gesture softened you immediately.

“We can totally stop, it's just..." Her lips find yours in a gentle yet hungry kiss, her teeth nipping then soothing it with the wet of her tongue. You nearly moaned into her mouth, your body betraying every word you were about to say. “I have been wanting to taste you all fucking day. I know you had a shit day, but please, baby, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight if you don’t come on my face”

You couldn’t help it; you burst into laughter, and Abby froze, staring at you ???????

“Oh, you’re serious,” you managed between fits of giggles, your eyes watering as you met her utterly unamused glare.

Two minutes of laughing later, Abby had had enough. With a firm nod, she launched herself forward, tackling you onto the bed and pinning you beneath her. Her body weight pressed you into the mattress, her lips hovering over yours, and you could see that look in her eyes that she was really going to put you to bed this time.

a/n: this sucks butt lol but i hope you all enjoy still.

[princess-of-purple-prose]

[ID: A collection of tweets by bobby 🐀 #BENIGN DEVI… @/bobby_speeds that read:

"the System really convinced Shen Qingqiu that the Jade Guanyin token could be used to save his life later, so he held onto it despite wanting to return it, and then when the time finally came to use it, the System withheld it until it was too late to actually save his life

"I know I'm just theorising but like, it's SUCH bullshit that it had to "load" the item. That had literally never happened before, but it just soo conveniently meant that SQQ had no choice but to choose another "scenario pusher"

"It wasn't enough for SQQ to just pull out the token, calm Binghe down and let them talk about their feelings, which by ALL rights should have been what happened, if SQQ and Binghe had just been people in a real world instead of characters in a narrative

"but it just doesn't make for an interesting climax, so it couldn't be allowed to happen. the audience (the in-universe readers of the revised PIDW, but also, like, us) would have found it underwhelming, so who cares how badly it traumatised the people involved??

"The System is just so fucking horrifying when you look past the cutesy emoticons. It acts cheerful and silly all while threatening SQQ with death or punishment and will happily make anyone suffer in the interests of "the narrative"

"I won't ascribe malicious intent to the System. It's an unfeeling entity that exists for no other purpose than to create an interesting story without regard to its characters' lives, but that in itself is way more scary.

"people LOVE watching characters suffer. I love it!! I like happy endings but I NEED an interesting middle. reading it, analysing it, thinking about it. the maigu ridge scene is horrific, but I'm literally deriving entertainment from it right now!! I'm having fun writing this!!

"and I hate the system so much, but what would this story be without it?? can any of us honestly say we'd enjoy this story half as much if SY had woken up in PIDW and lived a peaceful life of spoiling his disciples with no abyss and none of the major conflicts that resulted?

"The System is just the most incredible villain. It's terrifying and uncomfortable but it's us!! it did those things for US!! for our enjoyment as readers!! and we ate it up. we loved it. WE did that to them.

"The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (Image of a Tumblr post that says: “Based on my obsession with the concept of The Narrative I think we should invent a new kind of tumblr/twitter discourse where we argue that it's inherently immoral to write fiction because its prevents characters from exercising free will” / “'girl help my characters are unionizing'”)" End ID]

[csainzsgirly]

cs55 - "Just sit down on it" smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, sauna sex, public sex (if you squint), riding carlos (he really wants you to), him worshiping you, creampie, cumplay

The delicious electricity is buzzing in your body of just being around Carlos. The air was tense, but in a good way, sucking all the oxygen out of your lungs. His eyes, dark and predator-like, were focused on you, as if you were a pretty deer in the headlights, and he was waiting to consume you. Carlos truly did consume you, but again, in the best way possible. You fell in love with him again every winter break, when his undivided attention was for you, when he was completely yours, his phone was off, and it was just the two of you. You felt the warmth blossoming in your chest at the thought of the past nights, spending the sunsets in the cabana, getting wine drunk and drunk on each other, which would start with innocent kisses and unfolded into the best sex of your life, every night.

Your thighs were even a little sore, the muscles in the back of your legs complaining a little when you hopped on the bike this afternoon. Anyone who looked closer could see the faint marks of his fingertips that had pressed into your hips so hard as he pulled you over his cock over and over again, watching you fall apart underneath him just to bury his mouth between your thighs after, having you make the prettiest sounds for him. The mere thought caused the goosebumps to rise upon your skin, even while the sauna was burning hot and droplets of sweat were rolling down your spine. You looked over your shoulder at Carlos, who was sitting back, thighs spread, arms behind the back of his head, his eyes still boring into yours, gliding over your body in the bikini.

The blue one was his favorite, not just because he was going to be dressed in blue from the start of the new season, but because the color looked so pretty on you. The small panties were tied together on either side of your hips, the top clinging to your tits in a way that never failed to make him hard. You finally made your way back to him, extending the second glass of wine you were carrying. Carlos took it from you, his other hand landing on his thigh, already expecting you to get into his lap. You easily slid onto his thighs, your hand landing on his chest. "Dame un beso, mi reina," he hummed, palm squeezing your thigh. "You use that so often on me and it still works," you sigh, your fingers trailing up his strong pecs, landing on the side of his neck.

His hair was salty, slicked back from moving his fingers through. He was so tan from just a week in the Maldives, it was nearly unfair. "I know it does," Carlos grins, his hand gliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer, pulling you over his erection. The friction made you squirm a little, his hot breath ghosting over your face before your lips connected in a delicious kiss. In combination with the few sips of wine, your mind was already spinning, feeling the heat of his body against yours, his abs against your stomach, how big he was beneath you. And you were talking about not just his goodies, his whole body. You weren't exactly petite, but he made you feel that way, and you loved it.

Within a quick, cheeky move, the strings of your top were loosened, making you pull back from him and cover your tits with your arm. "There are people around," you tssk. "They can look away if it bothers them. Or stay watching," Carlos simply replies, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it, moving your arm away from your chest, eyes dropping to your hardened nipples. "That's sooo naughty," you whisper, earning a low chuckle and another kiss. His hips buck up slightly, drawing a whine from your throat as his other hand put down the glass of wine, pulling on the flimsy panties, intensifying the friction on your clit. "Look who's talking," Carlos teases, leaving hot, open mouth kisses on your neck.

You could taste the wine on his tongue when your lips connected again, his tongue licking into your mouth. Your hips rolled down on him, feeling him grow in his shorts. Carlos' fingertips slipped inside your panties, rubbing circles over your clit and spreading the slick wetness that was leaking from your pussy. His other hand moved into the hair in the nape of your neck, teeth nipping at the skin of your throat while you whimpered. "Ride me?" his voice rasped in your ear. "You're insane," you reply, your hand sliding down his abs, finding his happy trail that led your fingers to the waistband of his shorts. "Solo para ti." His pupils are blown when you look into his eyes, lips parting with a soft breath as your hand wraps around the girth, thumb spreading the precum over the fat head of his cock.

His thighs spread a little further when your hand starts to jerk him off, the sight causing the butterflies to flutter around in your stomach. Everything about him is so beautiful, so manly, so hot. You gnaw at your bottom lip as you look at his cock, the rip red and eager, the vein on the underside throbbing at the touch of your hand. "Mi amor..." Carlos complained, leaning forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, both hands grabbing your ass to hurry you over him. "Just sit down on it," he groaned, making you giggle a little. Carlos shoves your panties aside, and you raise your hips, slowly sliding down on his cock. The stretch is amazing every time, pushing against the walls of your pussy, nearly splitting you in half. Carlos moans at the feeling of being completely inside you, his eyes zoning in on where he fills you up.

His hand brushes over your lower abdomen, pressing against where the tip of his cock was bulging. "Feel me there, hmm?" his voice rasps. "Fuck me," you whine, giving him a high-pitched moan as he slaps your ass. There's a sly smile on your face, damn well knowing he wants you to do the work. You slowly start moving your hips, sliding your cunt up and down his cock, sucking him and gripping him tightly to feel all the ridges and veins. He feels so good. Your palms press firmly against his shoulders, nails biting at his skin. The clip that held your hair up had fallen out when his hands ruined your pretty updo. "Te ves tan bonita así, fuck," Carlos cursed under his breath, watching your tits bounce in his face. One of his hands groped them, thumb rolling over your nipple, watching your head roll back with a moan.

He looked up at you with dark, hazed eyes, leaned back to watch you properly, drinking you in, loving - worshiping, what he was seeing. Your toes curled as you ground your hips firmly down on him, finding an angle that made him hit your g-spot perfectly. Carlos' fingers slotted around your hips again, helping you up and down his cock as he felt you squeezing him. He got lost in how good you felt, how slick, warm and wet your pussy was, the obscene sounds that bounced off the walls in the sauna. A few strands of his hair hung in front of his eyes, which you slicked back with your fingers, his hair damp with sweat. His body was glowing, muscles prominent. You could feel him tense up under your touch, his breathy grunts telling you he was just as close as you were.

"Shit," you muttered, feeling his thumb rubbing firm circles over your clit again. Carlos started meeting your thrusts, hands pawing at your hips to keep you close. "You're crazy," you moan, knowing it wouldn't take long before he'd fill you with his cum. The thought of doing this, semi-publicly, made him throb inside you, especially as he knew you'd have to walk back to the cabana after. The image of his cum dripping down your thighs nearly made him go feral. You didn't even try to push away, you gladly let him slip into you deeply, a few more circles of his thumb on your clit letting you spiral into the most delicious orgasm. You looked down at him as he came, his abs contracting, eyes screwed shut. You admire him for a couple of seconds, moving your hands up his chest again before cupping his face.

"You make me want to bite you," you sigh. "In a good way," you add, nipping at one of his beefy biceps. "If you want me to eat you, you can just ask," Carlos says, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I'll double it and give it to myself later," you muse, toying with the hair in the nape of his neck. You swivel your hips slightly, making him groan. "There are no people in line to use this sauna, right?" you ask, looking over your shoulder before getting off his lap, kneeling between his thighs. Your teeth bite into his equally beefy thighs, satisfied when a smirk shows up on his handsome face. His cock throbs when your lips come near it, blood rushing south again when your hand wraps around it. "Talk about crazy," he sighs, head lulling back when your mouth takes him in.

[swappermanent]

Raw

I love fucking guys raw.

I mean, most muscle tops like me do. It just feels better—the glide, the sensitivity, the tightness—it’s almost intoxicating. But for me, there’s something more to it, something deeper.

You see, I have this ability. I can possess guys, make their bodies my own. Take control, live in their skin, feel their power, their desires. But there’s a catch—I can only do it if I get my cum deep enough inside them.

I don’t talk about it much. Hell, who would believe me? It sounds like some twisted porn fantasy, but for me, it’s real. It’s been years since I last did it, though. Decades, maybe. I’ve been this guy—this towering, muscle-bound hunk—for so long now, I don’t even remember what I looked like before.

Not that I’m complaining. This body’s a goddamn masterpiece. Broad shoulders, sculpted pecs, abs like a carved statue. Every time I walk into a gym or a club, heads turn. People stare. Some with awe, others with hunger. It’s addictive, the power this body commands.

But lately, I’ve been feeling… restless. Something’s shifted inside me. I used to thrive on the dominance, on the control. But now? Now I want something else. Something I haven’t had in a long time.

I want to give up control.

But I couldn’t find anyone worth giving up my body for until I met Bastian.

He was the perfect type of submissive—super muscular in all the right ways but smaller in stature, like his body was built to fit against mine. He had a confidence that was rare in guys like him, but when I got close enough, I could see it in his eyes: that flicker of curiosity, that hunger to be taken and owned.

We met at a straight bar of all places, a spot neither of us belonged in. I was nursing a whiskey, my usual method of blending in, when I noticed him across the room. He was leaning against the bar, his tight black tee clinging to a body that screamed gym rat but didn’t quite cross into the intimidating territory of mine. His dark hair was messy in a deliberate way, his sharp jawline dusted with a five o’clock shadow. He caught my eye once, then twice, and I knew.

After a few glances exchanged and a casual approach, we started talking. The conversation was light at first—what brought us to the bar, work, the usual stuff. But there was an unspoken tension between us, something electric in the way his gaze lingered on my arms, my chest.

“You’re not really into this scene, are you?” I’d asked, smirking over the rim of my glass.

He chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “Not really. I guess I was hoping to run into someone like you.”

That was all it took. Numbers exchanged, a few texts over the next couple of days, and then he invited me over.

Which brings us to now.

I’ve got Bastian bent over the kitchen counter, his shirt tossed somewhere behind us, his gym shorts shoved down to his knees. His muscular back flexes under my hands as I press my body against his, one arm wrapping around his torso to pull him closer.

And good for him—he was responsible and made me wrap it up. You could tell he was doing it out of obligation, not because he really wanted to. He probably had a scare recently, something that left its mark. I could work with that.

After a solid amount of foreplay—my lips trailing over his neck, his hands gripping my biceps like he was hanging on for dear life—I finally positioned myself behind him. I slicked myself up, rolling the condom over and coating it with lube. Then, I pressed forward, slowly, feeling the resistance of his tightness giving way to me.

He moaned as I slipped inside him, a sound that sent a shiver straight through me. His back arched, muscles rippling under his smooth, tan skin. I groaned in response, the sensation overwhelming even through the barrier between us. Damn, this kid was tight. Perfectly tight. Like his body was made to take me.

I looked down, my hands roaming over his toned form as I moved deeper. His abs were firm under my fingers, his pecs flexing with every breath he took. My touch drifted lower, tracing the sharp lines of his obliques, my fingertips gliding over the sheen of sweat that clung to his skin.

Damn, I needed to be him so bad.

The thought hit me like a wave, more intense than anything I’d felt in years. It wasn’t just lust or a passing fantasy. It was that familiar, burning desire—the craving to take over, to sink into him completely, to make his body mine.

I leaned down, my chest pressing against his back, my lips brushing his ear. “You’re perfect,” I murmured, my voice low and rough.

He turned his head slightly, his face flushed, his lips parted as he gasped for breath. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re… incredible.”

I smirked, my hips moving in a steady rhythm now, each thrust making him shudder beneath me. My fingers tightened on his waist, holding him steady as I claimed him. The pull inside me was growing stronger, the energy crackling just beneath my skin. I could feel it, the connection between us deepening with every second.

“Relax,” I whispered, my tone softening as I slowed my pace, giving him a moment to adjust. “You’re doing so good for me.”

His only response was a breathy moan, his body melting under my touch. He was surrendering completely, and I could feel it—the trust, the vulnerability. It was intoxicating.

I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the moment, in the feeling of him around me. My power was there, waiting, ready to take him if I wanted. All I needed to do was get thi condom off.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whisper, my voice low and soothing against his ear as I press him further into the counter. My hands glide down his sides, feeling the way his body responds to every movement I make.

As the rhythm builds, I let the words slip out casually, my tone almost teasing. “You know… it’d feel even better if we lost this condom.” My hand brushes his hip as I emphasize my point. He tenses slightly, just enough for me to notice.

“No,” he mutters, his voice soft but firm. “We’re keeping it on.”

I let it go, for now. Shifting positions, I move him to the bed and pull him upright, his back flush against my chest as I guide him to straddle me. He moves with me willingly, his legs wrapping around my waist, his arms gripping my shoulders for balance. The heat between us is electric, his body warm and pliant against mine.

As I thrust into him, I bring it up again, this time leaning in close, my lips grazing his neck. “You know you’d love it if daddy took this off,” I murmur, my voice dripping with confidence.

His breath hitches, his grip on my shoulders tightening. “No,” he says again, but there’s hesitation in his voice now, a flicker of doubt.

I smirk, pressing my advantage. “Come on, Bastian. You know it’d feel so much better. For both of us.” My hips roll slowly, deliberately, drawing another moan from his lips. “Don’t you trust me?”

His response is a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. I keep pushing, my words soft and coaxing. “You’re so tight, baby. Imagine how good it’d feel without this in the way. Just me and you. Nothing else.”

He shakes his head, but the movement is weak, almost reluctant. “No… we can’t…”

I keep up the pressure, the words spilling out between breaths as I drive into him. Ugh, I needed to become this kid so bad. “You know you want it. You know you want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His protests grow quieter, less convincing, and I can feel him starting to waver. I glance down, snapping at the edge of the condom with my thumb, rolling it slightly down my shaft. The latex stretches but doesn’t give, still clinging to me. He feels it, glancing over his shoulder with a soft gasp.

“Hey,” he says, his tone half-hearted. “What are you…?”

“Relax,” I murmur, holding him steady as I keep moving. “It’s still on.”

His protests don’t come again, or if they do, they’re lost in the sounds of his own moans and the slap of skin against skin. I keep it mostly on, the plastic rolled down just enough to feel the faintest hint of skin on skin when I slid all the way in. My hands grip his waist, pulling him closer, harder, as I push him right to the edge with me.

The tension builds as I pull out of him, the faint stretch of the condom still clinging to me. Without hesitation, I roll it off, making sure he sees me do it. I hold his gaze, the moment heavy with unspoken desire.

His lips part slightly, his breathing ragged as he watches me, his body still trembling from everything we’ve done so far. I smirk, letting the condom drop to the side as I position myself back at the entrance to his hole. My cock, now bare and slick, presses gently against him, teasing just the tip.

He looks at me, his expression conflicted—his body betraying how badly he wants this, even as his lips remain silent. I press forward just enough to make him gasp, then pull back again, repeating the motion to keep him on edge.

“Daddy knows you want his raw cock inside you,” I say, my voice soft but commanding. “I need you to say it.”

His mouth opens like he’s about to respond, but no words come out. Instead, he grips the bed tighter, his knuckles whitening as he fights the urge to give in.

I chuckle, leaning down slightly to brush my lips against his temple. “You don’t have to be shy, baby. Just say it, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

Still, he doesn’t say a word, but his body is speaking for him—the way his legs tremble, the way his back arches just enough to push himself closer to me. I keep teasing him with shallow presses, going just a bit deeper each time.

Until… oops.

I’m all the way in.

I stay there for a moment, letting him adjust, my cock buried to the hilt. His breath catches, his eyes wide as he looks up at me. I can feel his body trembling under mine, his resistance melting away with every second that passes.

I bring my hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently. My thumb brushes over his skin as I lean in close, my lips hovering near his ear. “What do you want me to do?” I whisper, my tone low and intimate.

For a moment, there’s only silence, his breathing the only sound in the room. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper but full of need. “I want you to fuck me.”

A slow smile spreads across my face as I press my forehead against his. “Good boy.”

And then I start to move. Slowly at first, savoring the way his body tightens around me, the way he gasps and moans with every thrust. My hands grip his hips, holding him steady as I pick up the pace, each movement deliberate, purposeful, claiming him completely.

“God, you feel so good,” I murmur, my voice thick with pleasure. His hands claw at the counter as I drive into him, his body rocking with every thrust.

This is what I’ve been waiting for—what I’ve been craving. The raw, unfiltered connection, the way he’s giving himself to me completely.

And I give him everything I have in return.

I’ve got him on his stomach now, his back glistening with sweat, his muscles flexing with every thrust. He’s gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white as I fuck him hard, driving into him with everything I have. His moans echo through the room, mixing with my own guttural groans as I get closer and closer to the edge.

I feel the tension in my body coiling tight, that familiar electric buzz building in my core. He clenches around me, and that’s it—I can’t hold back anymore. With one final thrust, I bury myself as deep as I can and finish inside him. The release is overwhelming, a wave of pure ecstasy that makes my vision blur and my breath catch in my throat.

And then it happens.

I feel it—the shift. My consciousness slipping, unraveling, like a thread being pulled loose. The world tilts, the sounds around me fading to a dull hum. For a moment, everything is weightless, disorienting, and then… nothing.

When I open my eyes again, everything feels different. The weight of my body, the angle of my vision, even the way the cool air brushes against my skin—it’s all unfamiliar. I blink, disoriented, my hands instinctively moving to press against the counter beneath me.

But they’re not my hands.

They’re his.

I’m in his body.

I glance down at myself—no, at him. My old body stands over me, towering, muscular, and glistening with sweat. The realization hits me like a freight train, the shock momentarily numbing my senses. My former body – again inhabited by its original owner completely unaware of the decade possession he just emerged from – looks down with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with hunger.

“Well,” he says, his voice low and dripping with amusement. “Looks like you finally gave in.”

I try to speak, but the words catch in my throat. My old body leans down, one strong hand cupping my—his—cheek, the other trailing down my—his—spine.

“You feel amazing,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening just enough to make me shiver. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

Before I can fully process what’s happening, he’s positioning himself again, the head of his cock already pressing back against me—against him.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, smirking as he slides into me.

The sensation is overwhelming, raw and intense in a way I never could have imagined. I moan—his voice, not mine, escaping my lips. My old body moves with the same confidence, the same dominance I’d always wielded. And now, I’m the one underneath, taking it all.

It’s exhilarating. Terrifying. Addictive.

And it’s just the beginning.

Inspired by Sharok and Bastian.

[gguk-n]

What? How? (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Based off this request. I had put up a poll to decide the driver with a part 1 and thought this would be part 2 but I think that's like the preview/introduction and this is the main part!

Everyone grew up hearing about soulmate; from their family or friends or relatives. Most people looked forward to meeting their soulmate, some people wanted to defy fate and some people never got to meet their soulmate.

Max grew up believing that he wasn't deserving of love and thought he'd never meet his soulmate. But a small part of him hoped that, someone would come along and fall for him and be his person. He found himself dreaming of her. The mark on his wrist was a reminder of the soulmate he was yet to find. His sister had found her's and spoke in detail about what it was like to meet your soulmate. He would always end up talking to Victoria about the time she met her's and what it was like, something Max was embarrassed to admit.

In the time that Max had been at RedBull, he had never had issues with anyone. He did his best and gave the team the result he could. Him and his race engineer meshed well, bringing a lot of synergy to their collaboration until he got a new team mate, which some how also meant a new race engineer for said team mate. He saw Y/N for the first time at the start of his fourth year in Formula One. She was cheerful and bubbly and always wore a smile on her face. She spoke kindly to everyone and a part of Max would always gravitate towards her. He had silently hoped they would be friends since they were both perfectionist but it never happened. Y/N always kept to her work; she was assigned his team mate's garage.

It was in 2021, when Y/N got the bump up and became a race engineer for Sergio Perez, his new teammate. Max never knew he could argue with someone as much as he argued with Y/N. They were always at odds because somehow whatever she did was against him, it felt. The team could see daggers flying from across the hospitality at each race but let it go since they never did anything. Until those fights started escalating, from bickering to arguing to full on screaming matches in the hospitality, audible to anyone who could hear. Horner and Marko had tried to get them to resolve their issues but to no avail, it only made things worse.

Y/N thought she was a part of the soulmate less crew, "I'll register you with soulmatch" her mother told her. Soulmatch was an agency, a app or a website, which ever one you chose to help two soulmate less individuals get together and find companionship in each other. Her mother wanted her to start looking, Y/N couldn't careless since her job kept her busy and she was barely at home anyways. Y/N was a race engineer in Formula One; a job she worked tirelessly to achieve. It barely gave her any time to wonder where her soulmate was. She got to work with some of the most talented and smart people to make machinery that made the car go really fast. But now she was working with her driver, Sergio Perez to make sure the race went as smoothly as possible with the best result as possible; sometimes at the cost of the other driver. "Are you listening to me?" her mother's voice broke through her thoughts. "Yeah" she replied. "I'll let you know once you match with people" her mother stated before cutting the call.

Her parents were late bloomers themselves; having met each other in their late 20's and early 30's so she didn't understand the fuss her mother was making. She was in her prime and a soulmate would come along when he wanted to. Y/N travelled the world; if a soulmate existed, she would run into him eventually.

There were a lot of times you would wish someone was your soulmate and there were a lot of times you wished someone wasn't. For Y/N, it was Max Verstappen. She hated his guts; ever since she had become a race engineer, he had been a pain in the ass for as long as she could remember. He would start fights with her if she prioritised her driver, and honestly, who else would she prioritise. She had good strategies that would work in her driver's favour sometimes and he couldn't tolerate it. Starting fights and unnecessary arguments. The team was done with them, the paddock was done with them and the DTS crew always had so much fun.

At the start of 2022 season, the whole paddock and the world knew about Y/N and Max. The fans would laugh and joke about them being soulmates and the other drivers took the piss out of Max for having an engineer as an enemy. But, everyone knew about them. Everyone knew how much the pair hated each other and wouldn't even look at each other, if not to fight.

It was the Monaco weekend, the two of them had been at odds since FP1. Y/N tried to be calm and mature about it; she didn't want to cause issues for the team. Hence, she ignored any thing and everything he said. It was getting on his nerve; she was ignoring him and behaving extremely rudely to him. It all came to a head when the team finished P1 and P3 with Y/N's driver winning the race, street circuits were his thing and Y/N played to his advantage. You can already see the resentment and anger brewing as Max got out of the car. "Who does she think she is?" Max almost screamed at GP. "Calm down Max" GP tried to reason. But Max wasn't hearing anything.

During the post race interview, there were jabs being thrown but it was during On The Sofa; when Max said something, which he later realised he shouldn't have. But it was too late; Y/N was already there and a fight broke out. A lot of commotion, the media having a field day, Sergio and Carlos driver trying to get them to stop, their team trying to stop them and PR having a crisis. The crowd went silent as Y/N pulled her sleeve up to reveal her soulmate mark which matched Max's soulmate mark exactly; now visible due to the scuffle. A loud whisper broke out in the crowd, Y/N looking at him and then his mark as the pair tried to process what was happening. Over whelmed with emotions, Y/N stormed off, leaving the crowd but most of all her soulmate stunned.

Max walked out off the stage, shocked from the revelation. He found him self in his driver's room with no recollection of what had happened. He kept playing back to the moment when he saw Y/N's mark and wondered if things would be different. He wondered if she hated him because he was her soulmate. He wondered what it would be like to liked by his soulmate since the one he got hated his guts.

Y/N was reeling from the revelation; the man who was supposed to be her soulmate was also the man she hated the most, or did she dislike him? All of these thoughts and emotions swirled inside her as she wondered what just happened and how she had gone this long before finding out. Did he know? Did he hate her because he knew? What was going on and what was she supposed to do? She felt her world crash and her phone wouldn't stop ringing. She looked at the caller and it was her mum. "Congratulations darling" she bellowed. Y/N was confused, "I saw you found your soulmate" her mum said when she got no reply. "How did you find out?" she asked. "It's on the news, sweetheart" her mother stated. While Y/N was still reeling from the revelation, F1's social media accounts had already posted about the two sworn enemies actually being soulmates and how it was straight out of a fairytale. Y/N wanted to disappear. Why was this happening now? she wondered, exhausted from the events of the day.

Max was informed by his father that F1 had posted about the moment when Max and Y/N realised they were soulmates. Max was exasperated. He ran a hand through his hair, ready to rip a new one into the admin. As soon as he opened the door he found Y/N standing there. "Did you see?" she asked. Max just nodded shocked to see her. Y/N made her way into the room, trying to find a place to sit when Max gestured towards the sofa. Y/N sat down, "It's an invasion of privacy" she stated. Before Max could say anything, Horner burst into the room. "So happy to find the lovely pair" he bellowed and hugged Max. "You two will make the best couple" he smiled, clapping his hands. Y/N tried to get up to protest, "I've already asked the PR team to start on the media day and social media stuff. You two have to post and we'll start making new content" he stated. "No" Y/N objected. "I'm the one who pays your bills" Horner said before he turned around. "The PR team will email you two the schedule soon" he said exiting the room. Y/N's shoulder's slumped as she walked towards the door. "See you around" Max's voice came out, weakly.

The PR team had decided to make the two appear in pictures and tiktok challenges together, to show them being lovey dovey. The two of them treated it like a task, they would show up, film it and leave. Max could feel his heart ache, hoping Y/N would look at him with anything but disdain.

Y/N found herself questioning herself, if she even hated Max. She found herself staring at him during debriefs and interviews. She found herself learning his driving style. Max was going to win his second championship too and RedBull had planned for a huge spectacle. When Max won Suzuka; he got out of the car, happy even elated and ran to his team and GP. Y/N was stood there by RedBull's plan. Max hugged her first, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her neck. Max felt tears prickle his eyes, he hadn't hugged her ever; her arms wrapped around him. When he pulled away, he saw tears in her eyes. "I like you Max. I'm so proud of you" she said. Max was shocked, this wasn't in the plan. "What?" he asked. "I like you Max Emilian Verstappen" she stated with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I...I like you too" he stated. "Let's talk after" he said pecking her cheek before being whisked away by their team.

After all the celebration, Max and Y/N were finally able to sit down and talk about the other day. "When?" Max asked. "I guess watching you" she muttered. "You?" she asked. "I don't think I ever didn't like you" Max stated. "I thought you hated me?" Y/N asked. "I didn't. I just thought you hated me" he replied, sheepishly. Y/N broke into a laugh. "We're so dumb" she continued laughing.

As time went on, the two of them grew closer with time. Max was able to stop RedBull from capitalising on their relationship. Y/N was still his team mate's Engineer and they still fought but Max would always kiss her to make everything better.

After the dominance in 2023, 2024 was tough on Max and Y/N too. They found them selves at an odd with the team, never themselves. Y/N would always reassure Max that he could do it, a fourth title was in his cards. "Schat, you are too optimistic" Max mumbled while cuddling her. "I'm realistic. I know Max Verstappen" she said. "Do you?" he smirked. She hummed tracing her fingers across his bare torso up to his chest, cupping his cheeks. "I'll marry you the day you win your fourth title" she said pressing their lips together. "No take backs" Max proposed pulling her on top of him. "Aren't you supposed to propose?" she giggled. "You wear the pants in this relationship" he said kissing her again.

As if Max got all the motivation he needed, he won his fourth title in Vegas. After the emotional team radio, "Y/N I hope you bought your dress because I'm marrying you in the next 2 hours" Y/N found herself smiling; there was chaos in the garage, their families were staring at her. "I told him I'd marry him the day he won his fourth title" she shrugged. Horner and Marko were trying to process the situation. But as soon as Max was done with all the formalities, Max staggered towards Y/N. "Never thought I'd marry you drunk" she laughed. "I'd marry you any way" he giggled.

They said their vows at a chapel in Las Vegas in front of their families and the other drivers. Y/N's parents were crying watching their daughter. Some how Max had planned it all, he had their family present, he flew her friends out; it was madness but in the best way possible.

At the end of the night, the two of them lay next to each other in their honeymoon suite. "I can't believe we got married in Vegas" Y/N said looking at Max. "I can't believe I married my enemy" he laughed. Y/N hit his chest playfully. "I love you Y/N" Max said now facing her. "I love you too Maxie" she replied. "You're stuck with me" he stated. "I've been stuck with you since I joined the team" she laughed.

Maybe the fact that your soulmate used to be your enemy doesn't seem so bad. Maybe enemies to lovers wasn't just reserved for YA novels. Maybe Y/N was happy, Max was her soulmate.

[contamination-zone]

nother fic yayyy

contains: platonic fresh and nightmare. Cuddling. Joint pain [for fresh :<] ~1,000 words

He was back, smarmy grin on his face and eyewateringly bright outfit everywhere else. It contrasted heavily with the deep well of suffering emanating from “his” SOUL.

An oxymoron; the only way Nightmare could describe it. 

Still, negativity was negativity, no matter how… colorful the package was. 

“Exited to see lil old me bro?”

“Hardly.”

It laughed, the noises all bright neons in the air. Enthusiasm mixing with cruelty. It wasn’t as cheery as usual.

“Lierrrr!” 

Within barely a second it was closer than he’d usually let anyone, crowding into his space and almost looming. Terribly reminded of a  cat greeting its owner, Nightmare didn’t think to refute  it.

It seemed one of them was thinking of his answer though, Fresh letting out a victorious crow when he didn’t immediately snarl an insult.

“You did, didn’t ya? We love ta’ see bonds between bros, bro!” 

As if it wasn’t close enough, it pressed against his side. He let it, the negativity pouring out more than worth it. 

“I would hesitate to call what we have a ‘bond.’” He finally answered it, disinterest weaved carefully through his voice. 

“Whatever you say,” Fresh snickered, face leaning down to rest on his shoulder. It seemed in a particularly clingy mood today, though that seemed like everyday, lately.

Hyper aware of its movements, Nightmare couldn’t help but notice something was a bit off. A certain stiffness the parasite didn’t normally have, teeth a hint too straight and claws blunt.

It pressed further into him, barley not sinking into his negativity, almost nervous… 

“Bad day?”

It startled, clearly displeased, and ignored his question entirely. Expected, exposing weakness to Nightmare wasn’t usually in anybody’s best interest. “Nah, my day’s been totes tubular. We don’t needa talk about me anyway. You got any cool plans, bro?”

“Work. In fact, I’d prefer to be alone for it.” He wasn’t going to let it play hard to get.

“…”

“If you require my presence,” he hummed in a way he knew made him sound like an asshole, “you can always inform me.”

He started walking, pace leisurely as he made his way to his office. It fell instep right behind him, silent, considering.

“C’mon, you always like a bro to help ya’ think things through, don’cba boss?”

“I’m not so incompetent as to require that.”

It huffed, clearly displeased.

He made it to his office with the parasite on his heels, and made quick work of gathering some of the most pressing paperwork. It continued prattling off behind him.

“Don’t harsh the paperwork vibe by kicking me out, octo-bro. Sure hanging out would help with that pro-duct-tality”

It grumbled and huffed, trying to annoy a reaction out of him. Cute.

“If it’s only entertainment you want, you can always bother other inhabitants of this castle, parasite.”

That actually got a growl out of it.

With a quick motion he also grabbed few pens and a stamp before he turned on his heel and walked right back out of his office.

Fresh didn’t seem to notice how far off his normal schedule he was acting, pressing close once more. It was so tempting to push it off.

“Are you saying you can’t, broski? The top dog of negativity, unable to amuse a simple lil’ dude?”

“You’re nearly 7 feet tall.”

“Yeah man! Just a little guy!” It grinned.

He let out an amused huff despite himself, finally arriving at their destination.

He fished the key to his room out of his pocket and made quick work of making his way in, one of his tentacles aground Fresh’s wrist pulling it after him.

The fact that this was when it finally noticed he wasn’t doing his normal paperwork routine was a testament to how out of it it must have been. It let out a little click at the back of its throat, confused.

“What’s with this?” A moment later.

Nightmare pulled it further into his room, “didn’t you say you’d prefer to ‘hang out’?”

A slight tug, more a test to see if he’d let go than an earnest attempt to shake his grip. He didn’t let go.

“Preev hang-outs weren’t like this, bro-tato.”

He ignored its words. Sticking out a tentacle easily tripped it, making it land on his plush bed with a thump.

He followed at his own pace, getting all his equipment set up  on his nightstand as Fresh rolled into its side to look at him. It’s voice was squeaky, “Again! What is the deal bro?! I am not the type of guy you bring to your crib. I don’t even do this typa’ thing!”

He rolled his eyes as he made himself comfortable. “You misunderstand me if you think  I’m trying to bed you. You merely seem under the weather.”

It grumbled, its brows furrowing and teeth baring. Before it could start spouting some bullshit about being in ‘tip-top shape,’ he reached over and settled its head on his lap, hands moving to massage at its neck vertebrae. 

It’s mouth let out a squeaky breath of air instead of a retort, and he chuckled. His tentacles reached down to wrap around its joints, and the way it went limp at his cold ministrations let him know he’d been right: joint pain.

It whines, “This is so un-radical bro…”

“Is it?” He grabbed his clipboard and started doing paperwork, letting his tentacles slowly wrap further around the other skeleton. The little shudders it let out only made him tighten his grip.

A little rumbly purr started up, and which seemed to disquiet Fresh even further. 

“Un-radical…” it repeated.

“Of course,” he looked down at it, face a bit flushed and purring like a motor, “‘Un-radical.”

“It was just a bad switch, it’ll pass.” It grumbled, “You really don’t need to do all… this stuff for it.” 

Information; he tried not to look like he was paying more attention. He let out an acknowledging noise.

“You listening? Just said you didn’t need to do this.”

“And if I want to?” Was out before he could think.

It stiffened the same time as him. This wasn’t what their relationship was supposed to be like.

They were both using the other: Fresh for protection and Nightmare for a free meal. It was comforting, expected. I they could always count on the other acting in their own self interest.

“Because… more contact more negativity, yeah?”

“Yes.” No.

It relaxed, taking that instead of the possibility of him caring, “whatever. I guess I’ll stay for your sa-“

He retracted most of his tentacles, making it whine. 

“Fine fine! I’ll stay for my sake.”

“Good boy.” He continued his ministrations, feeling it relax back into him a moment later. Pretenses dropped, it didn’t hesitate to push as far into his space as it could get. A bit too close for him to do his paper-work with maximum productivity but he couldn’t say he minded too much.

[mikalilys]

Please stop publicly hating on fanfics. PLEASE!! Especially in a comment section of a video that’s about the fic or the fandom, because whether you’re aware of it or not, the author could have a social media account on that platform and see the hate. The hate on something they did for fun, for free. If you want more content then you have to stop hating. these authors aren’t celebrities they don’t have pr teams or people dealing with hate for them, they’re participants in fandom, and they’re real people.

Fanfics are not books, yes some are amazing enough to be, but you do not buy them, they’re provided to you for free. A fanfiction being popular is not like a book you bought sitting on your shelf, you should not feel obligated to read it because you spent money on it. Because you didn’t. it’s free. Fanfics no matter how popular should not be treated and reviewed like books, you do not get to publicly criticise or say “how are people buying this?!” Because they’re not. It’s free. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s overrated, it’s something someone did for fun, and you don’t get to criticise that, especially because it’s public for you to read!! Don’t be mad that something’s overrated, be glad that it was even up in the first place, someone could have easily just left it as a draft and never posted it, but they did. They decided to share this piece of themselves, to the fandom for anyone to read and that is a gift.

Ao3 is an uncensored website for fanfics, you can write about literally anything. And yet I see “no don’t read that fic it’s problematic!!” In a comment section. Fanfiction is not censored, if you want morals and every character being perfect and making the ‘right’ choices, then get off ao3. Also reminder that an author can write characters making decisions that they don’t agree with, for depth of the story. Just because your favourite character, that you see as the pinnacle of righteousness, makes a bad decision or says something mean does not make the story bad or problematic. It also doesn’t make the author agree with that decision. All the time authors of published books write about morally grey characters or villains. But when an ao3 author does it all of a sudden they must have committed the war crimes that they wrote their villain to commit. Do you realise how stupid that sounds?? 😭

Also don’t post vague negative videos about something/someone even if you don’t say who or what it’s about, it leads the comment section to gossip about who they hate and that’s just not cool. And tagging the fandom that they’re in??? 90% of the time they’re going to see that.

Public hate is not cool, if you don’t like someone, talk to you friends about it if you’re craving other peoples validation so badly. You don’t need to post something publicly. And I know hate gets more popular then love in fandom, no matter if it’s headcanons or fics or creators, but that doesn’t make it good. I don’t know why people are so negative all the time, like I don’t care what headcanons you hate, why do you even spend that much time thinking about something you hate?? I want to hear what headcanons you like, I want to know you fav characters, your kins, literally anything.

Sorry this is so long, it just pisses me off to see a fun video about fandom and then I open the comments and it’s filled with hate. This is a fandom, have fun with it!!! Please. 😭

[mama-qwerty]

Let's talk about this little scene.

They're looking for Shadow, and Knuckles notices that the GUN truck is falling toward them. He shoves his brothers out of the way, and catches the truck, neat as you please.

He could have grabbed them and pulled them away, making sure they were safe when the truck landed. He could have punched the falling vehicle, shattering it to bits and causing all sorts of rubble and debris.

But he didn't. He pushed his brothers behind him, and caught the truck.

He showed off his strength, following it up with hefting it on one hand, and boasting once again about being "one million percent muscle".

Knuckles may have settled into family life, may have found a new tribe, but he's still a warrior, and is proud of his strength. He's proud of the abilities he has, and I think sometimes feels like they're not appreciated enough, as they're for fighting and after the last movie, he and the other boys have seemingly settled into a nice, quiet, non-violent family life.

Tails likely has been instrumental in fixing or improving various things about the house or town, and Sonic is the first child so he's already found his comfy spot in the family and community.

But what about Knuckles? His strength likely isn't as big a benefit in daily life. May be a bit of a hinderance, if he doesn't pay attention and control it properly. So he may have been hearing "Watch your strength, Knux," or "Not all conflicts require violence to solve, Knux," which is so different from what he's used to.

While he doesn't always immediately jump to violence to solve all his problems, that's his strength, no pun intended. In his journeys through the galaxy, he had to fight to survive. Fight to keep himself safe. And even in circumstances where he didn't want to fight, he was usually forced into it. So this is his norm.

So I feel like he caught that falling truck not only to save his brothers, but to remind them what he's capable of. It was kind of a "Look, I am your brother, I am happy in my new tribe, but I am still someone to be respected because of my abilities."

It could have also been a lowkey show of how he would protect them. Anyone could pull someone to safety, but only he could catch a falling multi-ton vehicle as though it were nothing more than a tossed baseball.

But now it's discouraged. Maybe he feels he's getting weak. Getting soft because he's not being forced to fight on a regular basis. Which is I think why he so willingly rushed to fight Shadow when it seemed like talking wasn't working.

In the novelization of the movie, after Shadow kicks his butt, when the others ask if he's okay he tells them that he "might be a bit rusty". His pride is what took the real beating, and may have added to this feeling of his strength being dismissed. Of him losing what made him special.

This is further enforced by being essentially benched during the raid on the GUN HQ. His greatest asset is his strength, but it's not being utilized except "in case of emergency". Which, based on how the others behaved, they didn't think it would be necessary. So they essentially told him he was the failsafe, the backup, even though they--and likely HE--did not expect to need him.

His constant boasts about how easily he could break the glass may have been as much for his own morale as convincing the others he would be there if necessary. He is a formidable warrior, he has bested many a foe in his years. He is still a force to be reckoned with, even if he hadn't been challenged much in the months since the last battle with Robotnik.

He needs to feel useful. To feel important to the rest of his tribe. And maybe he's felt that the others kind of forgot just how impressive he is in his own right.

His adventures during the series showed him how it was okay to let his guard down and not be so serious all the time. And we see that in the film. We see him content with simply being a member of the family, we see him goofing off with his brothers. Even while they went over the plan, he sat with his little hat and munched on some bread.

(The grumpy face is undone by the beanie, sweetheart.)

Knuckles does best when facing threats head on. He prefers to run in and deal with the problem up front, and get on with his life. Stealth and plans and even working with other people is new to him. But he trusts his brother, he trusts his tribe, and he will stay off to the side until he's needed. (Maybe even moreso now that he saw that rushing in to fight Shadow didn't get him anywhere.)

But when he's needed, he will show them that his strength is just as much an asset as Tails' brains and Sonic's speed. Even if it had unexpected consequences.

Knuckles has a much bigger adjustment to Earth and family life than either of the other two boys. Because his life up to that point was fighting, keeping on the move and ahead of bounty hunters, and searching for the one thing that meant more to his people than any other. He had a huge weight on his shoulders, one that neither Sonic nor Tails could understand. Even the humans in his life couldn't possibly comprehend just how important it was for him to find the Master Emerald and allow his entire species to rest in peace once more.

But now that his quest was done, and he doesn't have to look over his shoulder as much as he used to, he likely struggles with how he fits in with the world. For the longest time he was The Most Dangerous Warrior in the Galaxy, and the Last of the Echidna. Now he's simply Knuckles. And he may be having a hard time finding what that actually means, to him and to those he loves.

~~~

Check out my other Sonic 3 analysis posts

[occasionalsnippets]

I’m curious about Tim and MC’s relationship.

Like, is Tim grateful for the fact that MC took care of him?

Does he know that MC took his shifts as Robin so he wouldn’t deal with B’s bad days/nights?

Does he know that Jack and Janet didn’t really like MC?

How much does he resent Jack and Janet?

How does he bond/show his love for his sibling?

Also, how would the members of the Batfam bond with MC? (Before and After Damian snitched)

And what do the Batfam think of MC?

- Storm.Anon

Focusing on just Tim for this! Send another ask for other Batfam members owo because I do want to individually dig into each relationship.

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream, @shirp-collector-of-fixations

Their relationship is both less complicated and more complicated than it should be. On one hand, you’re Tim's older sister-caretaker-parental figure-best friend- who can’t be categorized neatly into any singular category. On the other hand, none of those categories matter when you are the person he trusts more than anyone else in the world. More than he trusts himself.

Your parents do not hate you. You were an accident (huge, immensely big, giant accident) but they do care for you in some nebulous, difficult to discern, rich-people kind of way. They give you all the money you could want. They teach you the rules of high society and how to deal with the company. They try. Sometimes.

In many ways, you are their protege and student before a lot of things but you are still your mother’s child. A reflection of Janet Drake in every way that matters with a mind like a steel trap and a mouth that murmurs sweet poison. It is one of the main things Tim notes as a child when he thinks of you and mother.

The biggest mark against your parents, really, is the neglect. Their children weren’t their number one priority and both you and Tim knew. They could be worse. They could be better. C+ parenting all around.

Tim’s view on Jack and Janet are a bit fickle? Inconsistent? Complicated? He had wished for a very long time when he was younger for them to come home more often but he never really processed the whole situation until you forced everyone to get therapy. There’s quiet sadness in his feelings about his parents but not really resentment, not like you.

Not that those feelings have anywhere to go anymore. Both of you still grieved during their funerals.

Tim gives you gifts on mother and father's day and overtime the message written in the cards attached get longer and sillier. He still remembers the stillness of your initial reaction when he first presented you with a card.

He hadn't really noticed how much you did behind the scenes until he got older and realized you were internalizing a hell of a lot of things. His early days of existence are marked by your ever encompassing presence in his life. His parents leave. You stay. You always stay even as he digs himself into the pit that is becoming Robin.

He can always rely on you. If there is any truth in his life then it is that you will always be there for him. So, when you tell him with dark shadows cast upon your face that he shouldn't go out as Robin tonight, he accepts with minor protests.

You keep detailed reports on patrol to keep everyone updated when you're filling in as Robin and the ones from Tim's early days are... rough. Tim reads them because of course he does, and talks with you about it. A lot. You insist that he shouldn't have to deal with Batman because Tim is like 13 and Tim keeps saying that he chose this. So, the two of you compromise on it. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?

No one else really reads the old patrol reports. What happens during the early days stays between you and Tim and Bruce. Tim thinks Bruce still feels guilty about it, about both him and you.

Tim shows affection for you the same way you show affection. He'll go to company meetings in your steed. He learns to cook and bring meals to you when you're too busy. He orders materials for your hobbies whenever he notices you're running out.

Your relationship is not immune to normal sibling shenanigans though. You yell, you fight, he stands a centimetre away from the entrance of your room for no apparent reason, the two of you want to kill each other sometimes because "mother and father always liked you better-" and "I never wanted to raise you-"

You and Tim are so crazily co-dependent even if it isn't obvious. You're a bit less dependent than he is but you've also revolved your life around him and everything you do is basically for him so how true that statement is can be debated.

Sometimes you think you need him in order to be allowed to exist. There is no role for you except in reference to him, to your little brother who you'd give the world to.

Tim literally doesn't know how he'd survive or live without you. You taught him unconditional love. You're his favourite person. You've always protected him. He can't fathom the idea of existing without you.

You're impossible to separate from him and him from you. Aren't the two of you one and the same? Where does one end and the other begin? Who is he if not a reflection of you and who you raised him to be?

Alsjfjak so yeah. The Siblings. Them.

[summertimesadnessirl]

You should try just no longer talking to them. Just tell them that using actual words and then bounce.

Self sabotage is not real. In relationships, you are sabotaging the other person. They don't know why you did this.

And "you're not good enough for meeeeeee!" Is actually a terrible excuse to piss someone off or make them miserable or mistreat them or cheat on them or whatever you are doing.

I don't think this is real though.

Every time someone accuses me of self sabotaging it's either a fancy way of saying

"I feel bad for you and that makes me feel bad and I have the ability to discern and manage emotions, including those absorbed through empathy of roughly a 6th grader and won't admit it so now I'm trying to tell you to shut up about your problems and not indicate distress in any way because you being sad near me is bumming me out but that would require me to have a higher level of maturity and self awareness than I have so I'm just going to accuse you of causing your own problems and hope you slink away in shame because I want to lash out at you even though you didn't do anything wrong and I don't know why."

Or

"Actually god is punishing you for negative vibes, because God is also a little bitch with the emotional range of a sixth grader, so... that's for you to fix. I am very mystical and used to people not questioning my philosophy as a result, and I don't realize people can tell I'm a dyed in the wool sadist who enjoys seeing people in emotional turmoil. My main interest in the mystical arts is keeping other people too intimidated with how esoteric I am or too intimidated by my resemblance to religious abuse of a similar nature in their childhood to call me out on pretending to offer advice so I can get off on making people feel like shit after talking to me for not understanding why my advice doesn't make them feel better when I supposedly say all the right things."

Or

"The same, but with the self help industry."

So I've never met anyone who actually self sabotages relationships because the other person is too good for them.

I have met people who don't understand why something isn't working but know it isn't working.

I have met people who claim they self sabotage relationships because they don't feel good enough. Most of those people were victims of abuse and gaslighting.

A few were lying to people about their own motives in order to justify some sadistic behavior they got called out on.

They knew it would make the other person go

Awwwww

And forgive them and let them go another round.

I self sabotage any relationship I have with people bc I know in the end they are better without me in their lives

[honourablejester]

I was watching a video on top battlefield moments from science fiction, and I was delighted to see included the moment from the Babylon 5 episode ‘Severed Dreams’ where Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari shows up to the Battle of Babylon 5 to invite the enemy Earth Alliance ships to run the fuck away. Because yes. That moment is always a correct choice.

“This is Ambassador Delenn, of the Minbari. Babylon 5 is under our protection. Withdraw, or be destroyed.”

“Negative! We have authority here. Do not force us to engage your ships!”

“Why not? Only one human captain has ever survived battle with a Minbari fleet. He is behind me. You are in front of me. If you value your lives, be somewhere else.”

Followed by the EA ships proving that they did, indeed, value their lives. Heh.

With no context whatsoever, this moment is still boss as hell. One lady shows up with three cruisers and a dinky little White Star warship, and she makes the opposing side, which two seconds ago had the station and all its exhausted defenders dead to rights, literally run away. She says go and they do. Immediately, no questions asked. And she implies why, she implies that Minbari are people humans just don’t want to fight, but if you don’t have context, it might not be clear to you the scale of what she’s talking about.

Which is that, fifteen years ago, Ambassador Delenn of the Minbari, in her fury and grief over what she saw as the murder of her mentor, cast the deciding vote that lead to the Earth-Minbari war, which is a nice thing to call what was essentially a genocidal religious crusade on behalf of the Minbari to completely annihilate the human race. And they damn near succeeded. She regretted her decision almost immediately, but by the time she managed to halt what she’d started, it was during the Battle of the Line. The final annihilation of Earth itself. Earth, humanity, fought them for every inch of space in between, but they lost every single fight. All the way to Earth. No one, except Sheridan, the man behind her, survived battle with the Minbari. And Sheridan, it has to be said, basically cheated, to almost war crime levels, by using a distress call to lure a Minbari ship into a nuclear minefield. That was the only victory humanity eked out. The Minbari just steamrolled them, an implacable tide of annihilation that literally nothing they had could stop. The Earth-Minbari War was not stopped by anything humanity did, it was stopped by Delenn herself showing the Council of Nine that humans had Minbari souls (aka that humans and Minbari could reincarnate as each other, making them in religious terms the same species), granting the Council a religious ground to halt the war. Humanity was, essentially, annihilated by Delenn’s fury, and saved by her compassion, and there was nothing they could do to influence either of them.

That, in this moment, is what just appeared on this battlefield. Embodied in this woman. A fifteen year shadow of the end of their race. The Battle of the Line is etched in every human memory in this setting, the moment when they evacuated their homeworld, evacuated Earth, while every fighting ship they possessed died in orbit trying to delay, not stop, just delay, the implacable tide of the Minbari onslaught.

When Delenn shows up and, in cold, quiet fury, says ‘withdraw or be destroyed’, she fucking means it, and there is not a single human being in this galaxy (or, to be fair, anyone else either) who doesn’t believe her. The Minbari have proved it. You can piss off anyone else in the galaxy you like, you can fight gods, but you do not, ever, piss off the Minbari. Especially not this Minbari.

Because she’s learned since then. She has seen the horrors of war, she has felt the almost incomprehensible stain of blood on her hands, she has fought to stop what she started and realised how infinitely more difficult it is, and she has learned. So if she goes to war now, it is with full knowledge of the cost and the consequence. If you tip her over that line, woe betide you. Because it means she’s decided that your death is worth whatever she can’t stop in the aftermath, and if your death is worth that much, then there’s nothing in this galaxy that will prevent it.

God, but Delenn was such an absolute tour de force of a character. This quiet, gentle, soft-spoken woman whose fury had destroyed races and whose compassion had saved the galaxy. She’s not even warrior caste, she’s religious caste. She’s not, technically speaking, a fighter. But hers is the voice that starts and ends wars, and she has never once flinched from personally standing in the face of annihilation to do so.

If she told you to stop being silly and go home before something bad happened, I promise you, you would listen too. Heh.

(Also yes, I’m aware I’ve posted pretty much exactly this several times before, but literally every time I rewatch that scene it brings this wave of giddy awe and wild ferociousness back. Literally. It’s a scene that makes you want to fist-fight god, and a scene that makes you think you could maybe win too. If Delenn is behind you, then even if you don’t win, you will mess them the fuck up in the process. She’s inspiring that way. Heh).

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

Warden: You've never killed an innocent?

Zevran: Now there's an interesting word, "innocent." How many men do you know who can claim to be truly innocent?

Zevran: But if you're talking generalities, such as children and relatives and bystanders and such… never on purpose, but it happens.

Zevran: It's unfortunate, but death comes to us all. If not me, then some wasting disease. Or a fall down the stairs. Or at the hands of a darkspawn. It's all relative in the end.

Zevran: "Death happens," as we like to say. And when I get paid for it, death happens more often.

-

Zevran: In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women… and men, or whatever it is you might fancy.

Zevran: But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty. But confining.

-

Davrin: Lucanis, how do you decide when one of your targets deserves to die?

Lucanis: Usually when the client pays up front.

Davrin: I'm serious. Do you just kill anyone?

Lucanis: No. There has to be merit.

Davrin: "Merit?" Who decides that?

Lucanis: The Talon of the house.

Davrin: And then you just carry out the order?

Lucanis: It's my job.

Davrin: Must be tough to sleep at night.

-

Lucanis: You kill for a living, too, Davrin. How do you sleep at night?

Davrin: Like a baby. The things I hunt are pure evil. Monsters. There are no shades of grey with darkspawn. But you...

Lucanis: Provide a service.

Davrin: What if your target doesn't deserve to die?

Lucanis: Who does? Good, bad, everyone dies eventually. We just speed things up.

-

Emmrich: Do you have any say in your... targets?

Lucanis: You want to know if my victims deserved it.

Emmrich: Forgive me, I shouldn't have asked.

Lucanis: Everyone wonders.

Lucanis: I've never killed an innocent, by my count.

Lucanis: I cannot say if yours would agree.

-

Emmrich: Lucanis, do the implications of your work never trouble you?

Lucanis: Everyone on this team has killed before. I'm hardly unique.

Emmrich: Yes, of course. But in your case, it's a profession, rather than an act of necessity.

Lucanis: I'm not sure the Venatori or the Antaam see the distinction as you do.

-

Emmrich: I find it extremely interesting, Lucanis, that you consider the point of view of your enemies in battle.

Lucanis: I have to. It's much more difficult to find and kill them, otherwise.

Emmrich: Exactly! A utilitarian attitude towards death, and yet you extend empathy to your victims.

Lucanis: Not that much empathy.

Emmrich: Enough to wonder how the Venatori and Antaam view your actions.

Lucanis: Death comes to everyone, in time. I get paid to deliver it. Like a letter not everyone wants to read.

-

I think about this a lot. I'm always... surprised when I see the talk that they're supposedly trying to make Lucanis into the perfect "cinnamon roll" in Veilguard, because his sweet personality doesn't "match" his profession and background. Like, no? That's a very surface level of looking at it, I think.

Zevran is like this, too. He is an incredibly chill guy, and when you romance him, he is also very sweet and vulnerable, despite being an assassin. They're not that different in that department. They were both trained to be assassins since they were children. They're both traumatized in various ways. But neither of them acts like a bloodthirsty, evil freak. But they both also take pride in the job they do (or did), and how well they can do it, and have no intention of stopping. And yet they both express surprising empathy. (Zevran argues against annulling the Circle! Quite extensively!) And they make pretty much the exact same arguments about being killers for hire, as shown above.

Death is a natural part of life. Sometimes it just comes sooner, because we're there to deliver it. There's (almost) no such thing as an innocent person, so my victims aren't innocent people. Therefore, I've never killed an innocent in my entire life, as far as I know. (At least not intentionally.)

And that's interesting and fun about them! It's beautifully deranged. Lucanis completes an assassination mission, slitting somebody's throat or what have you, and then goes on his cosy coffee break, satisfied with a job well done.

The fact that they both say that they've never, in their opinion, assassinated "an innocent", so it's all good, doesn't automatically make it true and doesn't mean it's not complicated, however. Not every line of dialogue can be taken at face value. As video game players, we're rather desensitized to this, but hearing this should normally be at least a little alarming. For a regular person, at least. And it is for the people in the game! Like Emmrich and Davrin. Davrin has several banters with Lucanis about it. Like, who decides when somebody deserves to die and which contract's going to get carried out? Well, the "CEO" of "the company," of course! What could ever go wrong that way? Emmrich tries to coax Lucanis into saying that he does feel something about the whole thing, because he really wants it to be true. While Lucanis is very matter of fact about it. He knows what the Crows are, and that's it. He doesn't glamorize or demonize it.

So, it definitely isn't that "Veilguard says that Lucanis has never done anything wrong ever in his life," just like Origins doesn't do it with Zevran. Both the men's attitude towards killing is warped in an interesting way, completely in line with their background and upbringing. It shows when Lucanis argues with Davrin about them both being killers, because it completely escapes him (or maybe he ignores it for the sake of the argument) how the killing he does (contracts where the targets tend to be people) and the killing Davrin (a monster hunter, a darkspawn slayer) does is of different kind entirely. His logic is flawed at that point. But to him, it boils down to the fact that "it's just a job," and "killing is killing," and "death is death" regardless of form, and that rightfully baffles Davrin to no end. If anything, it shows how the Antivan Crows are taught to hand wave the issue, because the arguments Lucanis and Zevran both present are too similar to be anything else.

Of course, Lucanis, unlike Zevran, as the grandson of the First Talon and her favourite, might have had some extra privileges and wiggle space in comparison, which might have allowed him to bend the rules sometimes, give him space to show more compassion and act more heroically, because people are complex and there are many layers to what each person might consider right and wrong (e.g. killing is okay in various circumstances, and slavers in particular can get fucked - hell, we do it in video games all the time), but still. The fact that his grandmother wanted to tap a new market, so she made Lucanis specialize for hunting mages, which ultimately led to him killing a lot of Venatori and blood mages, makes it cleaner, which is nice, but then again, we hardly know the full extent of all his work. Moreover, when you ask Zevran to tell you stories about his jobs, you don't get much dirt out of him, either. He talks about some of the goofiest ones he's had. One of his targets that he (unsuccessfully) participated in taking out, a royal that got his position through plotting and murder, he also describes as somebody so immoral he basically deserved it. Also very clean. (Compare both these guys with somebody like Blackwall who truly committed a despicable act of murder for money that we do know of. And this single crime sounds so much more upsetting than anything either Lucanis or Zevran describe. None of the things Zevran says is as awful, besides the murder of his lover, which is framed like it wasn't really his fault, because he was misled.)

It's also worth noting that Zevran talks about how he was the best the Crows had before he left and how it brought him respect, wealth, women, men, or "whatever it is you might fancy." All in all, it comes with benefits. By his own admission, he was well off. But of course that came with a catch, as well. The "gilded cage" Zevran talks about. But that's not what made him leave. It was the plotting, backstabbing, and ever present distrust in the end, which led to the biggest mistake he'd ever made. Much like him, Lucanis also mentions that he had a comfortable life before getting captured, in the same quest where he also talks about how he didn't actually have full control of his life. ("Even before I was captured, my life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me.") The gilded cage comes up yet again. And it was plotting and backstabbing that made him lose a year of his life in the underwater prison.

My point is: Lucanis and Zevran are both assassins, because that's what they've always been, they were trained to be assassins since they were kids, they have a very pragmatic approach to death and killing, which they were most likely taught or perhaps were forced to develop, and they both take pride in how good they are at their job, and express no intention of ever stopping. And yet they both show that they have a good heart in various other ways, turn out to be friendly and incredibly loyal, and even very sweet as lovers. Because people can be complex, and so can be fictional characters. Yes, they're very different men, with different problems and personalities, yet also not that different.

You can't think that Lucanis is "too good" without also thinking that Zevran is "too good." You can't have this problem with Veilguard unless you also have it with Origins, is what I'm saying. And I think this may also apply to some of the other Crows we meet in Veilguard.