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creamflix · 2 days ago

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UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 3/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [in this chapter: oral (f. & m. recieving), whole lot of teasing, dirty talk ohohoho, praise too, very crack/fluffy/soft, first time], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: we're on the last couple of chapters aaaa!!!!! this has been such a ball to write, thank you all to everyone who has been patient with me and my work <3 if you're wondering why my ao3 "has more chapters," that's because i split the story's chapters on the basis of setting, if that makes sense? but the content posted here & there stays the same! hope this makes sense, or you can just hop on my ao3 and read it there if you're confused.

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

you watched suguru disappear through airport security, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

he’ll be okay, right?

you kept telling yourself he would be, that he was suguru, and if anyone could handle this gracefully, it was him. his quiet resolve when accepting the wedding invite was proof enough… but there was still that little worry.

then, of course, there was your own life to consider.

you had a lot on your plate, and maybe that was why you didn’t have as much time to let your mind dwell on suguru’s situation. because just as suguru was closing one chapter, a whole new world of chaos was opening up for you.

the explosion of “mating with the dragon king” on social media had brought nothing short of madness for the team at gojo-sonic. toji’s voice acting was all over the place, going viral within days, with fans clamoring for more and turning audio snippets into memes, thirst tweets, fan edits — the whole nine yards.

toji had gone from your secret boyfriend/situationship/“is this a real thing?” guy to a sought-after voice icon practically overnight.

and that, in turn, meant everyone at gojo-sonic was running overtime. gojo and shoko were handling the bulk of the social media cross-posting, with gojo obsessively upgrading gear and insisting on “maximum quality,” dragging shoko into his whirlwind plans. there were sound tests, new mic placements, adjustments to soundproofing in the studio, and — thanks to a trend gojo had seen online — experiments with “immersive audio.”

then there was the fan engagement: gojo insisted on answering every single question in the comment section, which kept shoko up at night to keep up with the influx. she even started experimenting with a few out-of-the-box ideas herself, like limited-time merch drops (her idea, of course) that ranged from mugs and t-shirts to an official “mating with the dragon king” plush.

but your role was far from a background one.

no, you had a looming deadline for the sequel of “mating with the dragon king” — one that fans were now waiting on with an impatience that bordered on feverish. because once the sequel was out?

toji would inevitably be back in the booth, bringing it to life with that deep, rumbly voice that had captured everyone’s attention.

oh, god, you thought, a sudden wave of panic hitting you. you had imagined the sequel, sure.

but had you imagined it being this big? and this soon?

you could already picture toji smirking as he teased you with lines from the new book. the idea of him bringing your words to life again was thrilling — and terrifying, all at once.

what if i can’t finish it in time? what if it’s not good enough? what if fans hate the new direction?

and still, you had to admit… something about the insanity of it all was exhilarating.

it was one of those late, cozy nights where the three of you — megumi, toji, and you — were all huddled in your apartment, which was sparklingly tidy since toji’s last visit, thank you very much. no empty cans of mountain dew rolling under the table, no fast food bags piling up in the corner. you even caught him glancing around with this pout, practically bemoaning the absence of lingerie on your lampshade.

“dramatic ass,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as he stretched out on the couch, shaking his head as if you’d betrayed him by cleaning up.

“you know, i miss the… ambiance of the place,” toji teased, one eyebrow cocked as he stretched his arms over the back of your couch. “nothing quite says ‘writer’s den’ like takeout and underwear draped everywhere.”

you snorted, turning back to your laptop. “sorry i deprived you of such art. maybe i should throw my socks around the place just for you.”

“wouldn’t be the same,” he sighed, leaning back and watching you type away.

and then — surprisingly — toji started… actually giving you advice. as you typed out the next few scenes of your book, he leaned in, reading over your shoulder with a squint that softened into genuine interest.

“you know,” he started, “if you’re gonna have the dragon king confront the knight here, shouldn’t he be a little more… i dunno, cocky?”

you paused mid-keystroke, surprised.

“cocky? you think he’s not cocky enough?”

“yeah, i mean, he’s the dragon king,” he said with a little shrug. “doesn’t need to hold back. if he’s as powerful as you say, he’d probably be flaunting it more. show the knight he’s completely in control, get into his head a little.”

you considered it, nodding slowly. “huh. i hadn’t thought of that. but that’s actually… kinda perfect.”

he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “see? this is why you need me around.”

“oh please,” you scoffed. “you think you’re an expert now because you read, like, half a chapter?”

toji chuckled, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. “just callin’ it how i see it, sweetheart. think i might know a thing or two about intimidation.”

you rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “okay, sure, ‘intimidation expert.’ so… what do you think should happen next?”

“well,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “what if instead of outright threatening the knight, the dragon king pretends to befriend him? y’know, make him lower his guard. he could talk about how ‘understanding’ he is, maybe even share a drink or something, but all while he’s setting up the knight to fail.”

“you’re onto something,” you said, eyebrows raised as you typed up a few notes. “i could use that to build tension between them.”

“exactly. you get it,” toji said, leaning back with a smug smile.

you couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head. “who would’ve thought you would be helping me with plot development?”

“hey, i’m full of surprises,” he winked, giving you a little nudge. “besides, i like helping my girl out.”

your cheeks warmed, but just as you were about to respond, a small voice piped up from behind you.

“why can’t the dragon king be friends with the knight?”

both of you looked up to see megumi standing there, his arms crossed as he squinted at your laptop screen.

“what’s that, kid?” toji asked, leaning over to ruffle megumi’s hair, but the boy dodged it with a huff.

“i think they should be friends,” megumi repeated, tilting his head as he studied your document. “it’d be cooler if they were best friends, even though they’re supposed to be enemies.”

you looked at toji, who blinked, then shrugged as if to say, well, he’s got a point.

“friends, huh?” you mused, considering it. “but they’re, like… sworn enemies, ‘gumi. they’re on different sides.”

“so? friends can be on different sides,” he replied, completely serious. “maybe the dragon king can teach the knight things about dragons and fire, and the knight can show him sword stuff.”

toji chuckled, folding his arms. “sounds like he’s thought this through more than we have.”

you leaned back in your chair, nodding thoughtfully. “you might be onto something, megs. maybe they could start off as enemies, but end up working together at some point.”

megumi’s face lit up, clearly thrilled that you were taking his suggestion seriously.

“yeah! like, maybe the knight is only fighting the dragon king because he doesn’t understand him. and then they talk, and he realizes the dragon king isn’t so bad.”

toji let out a low laugh, raising a brow at you. “well, looks like we have ourselves a new co-writer. you hiring, sweetheart?”

you laughed, ruffling megumi’s hair. “you know what, maybe i am. you wanna help me write this book, megumi?”

megumi grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “yeah! i’ll make them the bestest friends ever.”

toji smirked, pulling megumi onto his lap as he sat back, arms around him. “guess we’ll have to make this a regular thing, then. family book nights, huh?”

your heart melted a little at the sight of them together, and you couldn’t help but smile. “sounds like a plan.”

the word family rang in your ears, echoing over and over, refusing to quiet down.

family book nights.

it sounded so casual, so… certain. as if the three of you already were a family. like the idea of you, toji, and megumi spending evenings together was just normal. something he assumed you’d keep doing.

a gentle warmth crept over you, but it mixed with a twinge of confusion, and maybe a bit of worry, too. megumi clearly saw you as someone close — close enough to leave his prized legos on your shelves alongside your makeup, which you had given a special spot as if they belonged there. and you’d gotten used to him padding around your apartment, lounging on your couch like it was his second home.

but what about you and toji?

what did it mean, the two of you making quiet breakfasts with megumi’s chatter filling the space, or all those little private moments, where he’d pull you close and kiss you in a way that made your heart race? it was something that felt like commitment, like you were both slipping into each other’s lives piece by piece.

yet… you’d never actually talked about it.

about what any of this was, what the kisses or the way he always wanted to be around you really meant.

it wasn’t like you were just casual, either. toji had been there for you through your chaotic schedule, your looming deadlines, even giving surprisingly thoughtful advice on your writing.

and you’d been there for him, too, sharing these quiet, vulnerable moments that went beyond a simple fling. but despite all of that, there’d been no explicit commitment. no labels, no official this is what we are conversation.

and maybe you hadn’t minded, up until now.

but toji’s offhanded mention of “family” — it had shifted something. your heart was suddenly tied up in knots, and you found yourself wondering if you were just reading too much into it, or if maybe, just maybe, he thought of you in the same way you were beginning to think of him.

lost in thought, you barely noticed the soft smile tugging at your lips as you watched him with megumi. your mind buzzed with a hundred questions, each one sparking new uncertainties and hopes.

is this what we are? a family?

is that what he wants, too?

“hey, you okay over there?” toji’s voice broke through, his eyes glinting with amusement as he noticed your far-off expression.

you blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, cheeks warming under his gaze. “yeah, i’m… just thinking.”

“about what?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he gave you that familiar smirk, but there was something softer in his eyes.

you opened your mouth to answer, but found yourself hesitating.

what would he say if you just blurted out everything you were feeling?

if you just asked him what this really was?

instead, you gave him a little shrug. “oh, just… book ideas. plot twists.”

with megumi finally dozing off in the middle of your bed, the soft sound of his steady breathing filling the room, you and toji tiptoed out to the living room.

time to tackle the smut section, you thought, dreading it a little. this part always managed to be equal parts thrilling and exasperating to write. and tonight?

you were completely, hopelessly blocked.

every draft seemed stale, as if you'd used the same recycled phrases one too many times.

toji noticed immediately. he always did.

leaning back on the couch, he smirked as you groaned in frustration at yet another blank page.

“y'know,” he said, voice a little too casual, “if you’re really struggling here, i could offer some… hands-on help.”

you shot him a warning look, rolling your eyes as he just grinned back. “oh, real helpful, mr. cliterature.”

toji snickered, unaffected by the jab to his ego. “i’m just sayin’. i happen to be good at this stuff,” he drawled, stretching his arms out across the back of the couch, looking entirely too smug.

“and i’ve got a lot of ideas. call it… creative inspiration.”

you gave a small laugh, even though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. was he serious?

toji caught the look on your face, his grin turning almost… inviting. “look, maybe it’s not writer’s block you’re dealing with,” he teased, leaning in just a bit closer.

“maybe you’re just… unmotivated.” his voice was low, coaxing, and damn if it didn’t make your heart beat a little faster.

“so… should i help you get in the right headspace?”

for a moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he had a point.

the minute toji offered his “help,” he felt a little like a perv. a line had definitely been crossed, but what was he supposed to do? you were asking for inspiration, and he just happened to have a few… ideas of his own.

sure, he knew you were kind of jittery when it came to the physical stuff, but god, if he didn’t want to see you beneath him, to hear you whimper and moan. he was getting ahead of himself, though; this was supposed to be about writing, right?

“you sure you can handle it?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching up as he leaned closer, a teasing glint in his eyes.

you shot him a nervous look, your fingers hovering above the keyboard. “well, it’s either this or staring at a blank page forever,” you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

cute, he thought.

“exactly. so let’s start simple.” he leaned in, capturing your neck between his lips, pressing soft kisses that sent a jolt down your spine. this was nice, you thought, trying to focus on the sensation instead of the racing thoughts in your head.

“m-maybe i should… um… write this down?” you managed, hands shaking slightly as you fumbled to adjust the laptop on your knees.

“no need to rush,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “just feel it.” he nibbled softly at the curve of your neck, and you nearly dropped the laptop.

“toji!” you gasped, trying to keep your composure while your heart raced in your chest. “this is… um, kinda distracting.”

“good. that’s the point,” he replied, his lips continuing their exploration. “i’m just setting the mood, babe. think about how this feels.”

you let out a shaky breath, the heat pooling in your stomach as you tried to jot down your thoughts, but all that came out were half-formed sentences that didn’t make sense.

“this is supposed to be… research!” you squeaked, but the way he was sucking and nibbling at your neck made it hard to think straight.

“isn’t research supposed to be hands-on?” he teased, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with mischief.

this was definitely a line crossed, you realized, but god, did it feel good.

“y-you’re a terrible influence,” you breathed, half-heartedly trying to push him away, but the playful smirk on his face told you he wasn’t going anywhere.

“and you love it,” he shot back, diving back in to plant more kisses along your neck, and all you could do was gasp and try to write through the haze of pleasure.

you were trying desperately to type something coherent, but your fingers were like they had suddenly developed a mind of their own, hitting keys at random and producing a glorious mess of gibberish.

great job, you genius, you thought sarcastically. get all hot and bothered over a few neck kisses — what’s next?

your concentration shattered as you felt toji’s hands slide beneath the hem of your loose shirt, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

oh, lovely. just what you needed.

now, instead of articulating the tension between characters, you were supposed to describe both sensations — his mouth on your neck and his hands groping your tits.

“you’re making this a little hard, you know?” you managed to squeak out, trying to keep your voice steady while your heart raced.

your fingers fumbled over the keyboard, and all you could think was how you were definitely going to get a solid “F” for focus on this assignment.

“oh, really? hard, huh?” toji’s voice was laced with playful arrogance as he continued his exploration, thumbs pressing into your chest, and you could practically hear the smirk in his tone.

so much for being a good influence, you thought dryly, almost wishing for a second that you had stuck to research papers instead.

“look at that, you’re not even writing,” he teased, pressing his palm against your chest, a bold move that made you gasp. “where’s that award-winning author i’ve heard so much about?”

you glared at him, half amused and half exasperated. “she’s currently being distracted in the middle of a very important research session.”

he laughed, the sound rich and infectious. “who needs research when you can have a firsthand experience?”

“this is supposed to be about character development!” you protested weakly, trying to make sense of the disjointed words on your screen. “how am i supposed to write about a dragon king and a princess when you’re busy turning me into a blushing mess?”

“focus on the feelings,” he replied, his hands moving with a confidence that made it hard to concentrate. “feelings are important, right?”

well, you thought, he wasn’t wrong.

your cheeks flushed hotter as he squeezed gently, the sensation conflicting with your need to maintain some semblance of writerly dignity.

“i guess i’m just…trying to find the right words,” you mumbled, practically squirming as he continued to toy with you.

“good luck with that, babe,” he said, an infuriatingly charming grin spreading across his face. “but i can assure you, all that gibberish on the screen isn’t gonna help. sometimes you just need to let go.”

let go? the idea sounded almost freeing, but the practical side of your brain was still wrestling with the fact that you had a deadline looming.

“what if i don’t get my manuscript finished?”

toji leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “then i guess we’ll just have to come up with some creative solutions, won’t we?”

you groaned internally, realizing you were in way over your head, but the way he looked at you made it hard to care about anything else.

“this is not how i envisioned my writing process,” you sighed, but even as you said it, the thrill of his touch made your resolve waver.

what a disaster, you thought, but at the same time, a part of you was absolutely here for it.

the heat radiating from your laptop on your thighs mixed with the warmth pooling in your core made you feel dizzy, and suddenly, the manuscript didn’t seem to matter at all.

screw the deadline, you thought wildly. screw the manuscript.

you needed this hunk of a man right now.

without thinking, you pulled your shirt off, feeling an immediate rush of adrenaline and regret.

oh god, what have you done?

the cool air hit your exposed body, sending chills across your skin, but it was nothing compared to the look on toji’s face. his jaw dropped comically, eyes wide as he took in the sight of you in your bra.

“well, hello there,” he said, his voice low and almost reverent. “are you trying to kill me? because it’s working.”

“i — uh — ” you stumbled over your words, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson.

you are not a main character. why the hell did you just do that? your inner monologue was spiraling, but the heat of the moment overshadowed any logic you might have had.

“what? do you expect me to be cool about this?” he asked, leaning closer, his eyes practically devouring you. “you just stripped in front of me! how am i supposed to react?”

you fumbled to cover yourself, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. “i thought… maybe it would help with the writing? you know, get in the mood?” you mumbled, feeling ridiculously silly for saying it out loud.

“get into the mood?” he echoed, half-laughing, half-incredulous. “baby, you just put me in a state of absolute chaos! this isn’t about mood anymore; it’s about survival!”

survival? you thought, but then you caught the glint of mischief in his eyes, and suddenly, the weight of your insecurity felt a bit lighter.

“you could just, um, you know, not look?”

“and miss this view? no chance in hell,” he smirked, leaning back slightly, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “besides, why would i want to miss the chance to admire a beautiful lady?”

your heart raced at the compliment, battling between feeling flattered and mortified. “but you said i write gibberish!” you retorted, the words tumbling out before you could think better of it. “how am i supposed to be taken seriously as a writer when i’m sitting here in my bra?”

“oh, you’re serious, alright,” he said, unabashedly leaning closer again. “and if you keep this up, you’re going to be more than just a writer.” he paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “just think of all the inspiration we could gather right here.”

you swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks heat up even more. “toji, you can’t just say things like that!”

“why not?” he challenged, amusement dancing in his eyes. “if you wanted me to shut up, you shouldn’t have given me a show like that.”

you felt your insides fluttering, a strange mix of embarrassment and thrill surging through you.

what was happening?

“i didn’t mean to…” you trailed off, unable to articulate your thoughts, feeling ridiculously caught off guard.

“oh, don’t even play coy with me now,” he teased, his voice dripping with confidence. “besides, the real question is: what do you want?”

your mind raced at the implications, suddenly realizing the gravity of your actions.

what did you want?

you thought you wanted to write, but right now, with him leaning in, the idea of writing seemed worlds away. maybe you wanted this?

the thought was tantalizing and terrifying all at once.

“i —” you began, but your voice faltered as he reached out, brushing a thumb against your bare skin.

“just say it,” he urged softly, his gaze steady and inviting. “what do you really want?”

you took a shaky breath, caught in the moment, knowing you were dangerously close to stepping into a territory you had only ever written about. but you were here, in the flesh, and he was waiting for an answer.

“i want…” you started, feeling both exhilarated and terrified.

the moment you said you wanted him, toji nearly cheered.

it took everything in him not to let out an actual whoop of excitement, but he had to remember the little sleeping figure in your room. megumi was tucked away, blissfully unaware of the chaos unfolding just a few feet away on the sofa.

and here you were, about to lose your v-card to your super hot colleague.

“so, uh, just to be sure,” toji started, trying to play it cool even as his heart raced. “you know we have to keep it down, right? can’t wake the kid.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you looked up at him, and damn, you looked so cute it nearly drove him wild. how could you be so oblivious to how breathtaking you were?

“right, good,” he said, clearing his throat, his brain whirling with the implications. “and just so we’re clear — this is what you want?” he leaned in closer, the air between you thick with anticipation.

“yes, i want this,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. god, you were so cute.

“okay, okay, but…” he paused, feeling the weight of the moment. “i need a pinky promise.” he held out his pinky, the humor of the situation almost making him chuckle.

his massive frame was caging you against the sofa, and yet, here he was, asking for a pinky promise.

“are you serious?” you laughed, a mixture of disbelief and amusement lighting up your face.

“hey, it’s important! this is a big deal, alright?” he insisted, trying to keep a straight face. “pinky promise me you want this. like, for real.”

you reached out, your smaller hand wrapping around his pinky, and he felt an undeniable rush at the gesture.

“pinky promise,” you said with a grin, your confidence shining through.

“alright, then. let’s get to it,” he replied, his voice low and steady, even though he felt like he was about to explode.

he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, teasing kiss, savoring the taste of you. he could feel the tension in your body, the way you melted against him, and it only fueled the fire in his belly.

“just remember,” he murmured against your lips, “we’ve gotta keep it quiet.”

“right, quiet,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he trailed kisses down your neck.

he couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling the thrill of the moment.

“you know, this is definitely not how i pictured your writing sessions going,” he teased, pulling back to look at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“yeah? how did you picture them?” you shot back, a playful glint in your eye.

“i don’t know,” he said, smirking, “maybe less —” he gestured to your exposed torso, “ —and more brainstorming about literature.”

“this is literature!” you protested, your cheeks flushed with heat.

“sure, sure,” he laughed, leaning in again, capturing your lips once more. “but it’s not just about writing. it’s about the experience.”

your breath hitched again, and he felt your body responding to him, the way you leaned into him, craving more.

“so, you’re saying i should take notes while you —”

“now you’re getting it,” he interrupted with a chuckle, pressing another kiss to your lips before continuing down your neck, relishing the way you squirmed beneath him.

“this is so distracting,” you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to keep your focus.

“distracting?” he echoed, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “that’s the idea. if you’re gonna write about it, you might as well get some real-life experience, right?”

“right, but — oh!” you gasped as he nibbled at your skin, sending sparks shooting through you.

“just relax,” he whispered, his voice low and sultry. “i’ll take care of you.”

this was going to be one hell of a writing session.

you were trying your absolute best to keep track, really, you were.

you had a job to do — a manuscript deadline that was breathing down your neck, and this was… well, technically research, right?

but as toji’s mouth pressed hot and needy kisses along your shoulder, then to your collarbone, the exact order was getting fuzzy.

was it the nip to your bra-covered chest first and then that delicious pressure against your pulse point, or the other way around?

honestly, at this point, even your notes looked like gibberish.

“mm, you’re really focused, huh?” toji’s voice was smug, with a lazy grin that could probably melt glaciers. he glanced down at your not-so-steady hand trying to type one-handed on the laptop next to you and chuckled. “this part of the book that important?”

you swallowed, nodding as you scrambled to refocus, even if every nerve in your body was firing off for entirely non-work-related reasons.

“y-yeah. research. gotta… capture the sensations. the character dynamics.”

but god, your voice wavered, betraying exactly how not on top of things you were.

“uh-huh,” he said, raising a brow as he leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with that wicked look. “and do these characters also get this close?” his hips pressed insistently against you, the not-so-subtle hardon pressing against you making it extremely difficult to focus on anything but him.

“it’s… it’s a… a very passionate story,” you managed, trying to keep up some semblance of professionalism, but the words came out more like a breathy whimper. you could practically feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed along your jaw, his hands wandering in ways that made coherent thought feel like a long-lost friend.

“just remember, babe,” he murmured, low and teasing as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, “you’re the one who asked for hands-on help. gotta commit to the scene, right?”

you bit your lip, focusing — or at least trying to. “yeah, i just… need to remember every step for… for later.”

as if you could even think straight with him leaving trails of kisses down your neck, his rough fingers skimming over the bare skin of your waist.

“oh, every step, huh?” toji’s mouth moved lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses over the fabric of your bra. “you’re gonna write about how the dragon king’s all riled up too?” he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“because ’m guessin’ he’d be… pretty hard to ignore, wouldn’t you say?”

you swallowed, cheeks flushing hot as your eyes flicked down to where his hardon pressed against you, demanding attention.

“y-yeah,” you managed, cheeks burning. “can’t ignore him at all.”

he chuckled, low and sultry. “that’s my girl.” one of his hands reached up, teasing along your sides, slowly moving up until it found its way to your bra strap.

“you, uh, want help describing this part too?” his tone was innocent, but the glint in his eyes was anything but.

“toji,” you squeaked, shooting him a glare despite the warmth pooling in your core, the heat from his body practically radiating into you. “i don’t think the dragon king was this forward in chapter fourteen —”

“oh, he’s forward in this chapter,” toji murmured, his lips quirking up as he let his fingers trail along the edge of your bra strap. “trust me. he’s been waiting.”

“right,” you said, your voice embarrassingly shaky as his lips found their way back to your neck, a little nip to your skin that had you gripping the sofa beneath you.

“he’s… he’s definitely waiting…” your voice trailed off as the pressure of his mouth sent a spark straight through you. you could practically hear your own characters’ voices narrating it in your head—

damn it, you were turning into your own leading lady.

“you know,” you muttered, desperately trying to find some control here, “this is technically a writing session. so maybe you should… y’know, help me keep notes on this?”

toji grinned, fingers skimming down your waist. “oh, i’m helping, alright.” his thumb brushed over the skin of your hip, pulling you just a bit closer. “but if you need the full experience babe, you gotta put that laptop down.”

“the full experience?” you repeated, breath catching as his mouth found your collarbone again, your hands tingling as you felt every inch of his warm, solid weight pressing you into the couch.

“you know i’m not a —”

“a main character girl?” he interrupted, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “yeah, right.”

his gaze softened, though, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “trust me, sweetheart. you’ve got that in you. just… let yourself have it.”

the laptop was abandoned — gently tossed to the coffee table, where it settled with a thud you barely registered. all you could focus on was the feeling of his rough hands tracing your shoulders as he finally slipped the clasp of your bra free. you could practically hear him exhale, a low, reverent sound that was part sigh, part growl, as he took in the sight of you, flushed and breathless, beneath him.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he murmured, almost to himself, his gaze intense, drinking in every inch of exposed skin like it was some forbidden treasure. he looked at you like he could hardly believe his luck, and for a moment, you swore you saw his focus waver.

it was… endearing, actually, how his usually cocky confidence stumbled when faced with you, bare and vulnerable and trusting.

“toji,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath, as his hands skimmed down your sides, drawing goosebumps in their wake. he chuckled, a warm, raspy sound, but you could tell he was just as rattled as you.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours for a beat. “and here i thought i was supposed to be the big, bad dragon king.”

you snorted, half-dazed, your hands moving to grip his shoulders instinctively. “well, this isn’t very dragon king behavior, is it?”

“oh, trust me, babe,” he growled, fingers trailing lower, making you shiver under his touch. “’m just… gettin’ warmed up.”

then his mouth was on you, lips closing over your nipple, and you had to actively bite down on your lip to muffle the high-pitched squeak that escaped your throat.

you’d been prepared for his hands, the calloused fingertips brushing over you, but his mouth — hot, teasing, so much more than you’d expected — was a whole new battlefield.

“t-toji!” you gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as his tongue flicked over your nipple, sending a spark of pleasure through your entire body. he chuckled, a low rumble, mouth curving in a smirk against your skin.

“now, now, you were supposed to be quiet,” he whispered, voice laced with that familiar teasing edge. “megumi’s right down the hall, remember?”

you glared at him, though it was probably more of a pitiful attempt given how out of breath you were.

“you — god, you’re the one making all the noise…,” you muttered, squirming as he only doubled down, his mouth leaving trails of heat across your chest, lingering in a way that made you feel absolutely undone.

he paused, lifting his head just enough to grin down at you, his eyes gleaming. “oh, you’re blaming me, huh?” he teased, raising a brow. “thought you wanted my… hands-on help.”

“yeah, but…” you trailed off, cheeks burning, as his mouth moved lower again, tracing around your tit again.

“not like this,” you whispered, and it came out more as a whimper than you’d intended.

“oh, trust me, it’s exactly like this,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. his hands came up to hold you steady as his lips found their way back to your tit, tongue flicking over your nipple just enough to draw out another, higher-pitched squeal.

you could barely focus, let alone remember how to breathe, as he skillfully coaxed more sounds out of you, like some damn orchestra conductor who knew every one of your weaknesses.

“okay, that’s… not fair,” you choked out, fighting the urge to arch into him. “i thought i was supposed to be taking notes.”

“oh, you’re taking notes, alright,” he chuckled, pressing a final, teasing kiss to your chest. “bet this’ll make one hell of a chapter, don’t cha think?”

you froze for a second, realizing that while here you were, topless and feeling vulnerable under his heated gaze, he was still fully clothed.

well, almost.

toji was lounging in just his gray sweats and that black compression tee stretched over his ridiculously broad shoulders, hugging every line of muscle like a second skin. and you, like a fool, were only just now noticing how unfair this was.

"wait a second," you muttered, hands coming to rest on his chest, feeling the firm warmth of him through the fabric. "why am i the only one halfway undressed? where’s the equality here?"

toji’s lips quirked in that half-smirk of his, eyes glinting with amusement as he tilted his head.

“oh? so that’s how it is, huh?” he teased, his hands tracing light circles along your waist, his voice a low rumble that you felt more than heard. “you just wanna see the goods?”

"maybe," you mumbled, a little breathless despite yourself. your fingers slipped down to the hem of his shirt, tugging just enough to let him know you weren’t kidding.

“well, since you’re asking so nicely…” he leaned back and, in one fluid motion, pulled the compression tee over his head and tossed it somewhere behind him.

and wow.

your jaw might have actually dropped.

your eyes traced the defined lines of his torso, all hard muscle and taut skin, shadows dipping into those sharp v-lines that disappeared into his waistband. each detail seemed sculpted to perfection, his pecs broad and firm, abs visibly tense, and his shoulders…

good lord.

toji fushiguro looked like he was carved straight out of a fantasy.

you swallowed, heat pooling in your stomach, very aware of the way his gaze was fixed on you, almost predatory.

“so? what’s the verdict?” he asked, voice cocky but still a little rough as he watched your reaction with clear satisfaction. he shifted, arms tensing a bit like he was showing off — not that he really needed to, honestly.

you tried to play it cool, but your voice came out breathy, betraying you. “well, uh… equality’s restored,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

he chuckled, leaning back in closer, and his breath was warm on your neck as he murmured,

“oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to hold back on my account.” his lips brushed the shell of your ear, teasing. “go on, touch all you want.”

you swallowed, hands trailing over his chest, tracing each ridge and groove of his muscles with your fingertips. every time your fingers brushed over him, he’d inhale a bit deeper, his muscles flexing in response.

"didn’t know you were hiding this under all those sweaters and hoodies,” you murmured, lips twitching into a grin as you kept tracing along his torso.

“mm, well, if i’d known it’d get me this kind of attention…” he grinned, hands tightening on your waist as his voice dropped to a rumble. "maybe i’d have stripped down sooner."

you rolled your eyes, still taking him in. “you’re insufferable, you know that?”

“and yet, here you are, practically drooling over me,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“you wish,” you retorted, but it was weak, considering your hands were still exploring every inch of his chest like it was your personal map.

“oh, i know,” he said, and before you could sass him back, he dipped his head to press a trail of hot, slow kisses along your collarbone, his voice dropping even lower as he murmured, “now, where were we?”

the air felt thick, heavy with every shared breath, each soft whimper from you met with toji's low, gravelly groans that reverberated through his chest and straight into you. there was nothing between you now — just skin on skin, the heat from his body practically searing into yours. his hands were gripping your waist, pulling you closer, almost as if he couldn’t stand even a millimeter of distance between you.

you both let out a sharp exhale at the same time when that familiar, aching throb in your core made itself very known. you could barely focus, hips shifting slightly, seeking… more.

and then you felt it — a certain twitch against your thigh that made your cheeks flare up instantly.

“shit,” toji mumbled, pausing just for a second to meet your gaze. his pupils were blown, gaze dark, and yet he somehow looked almost surprised himself. “you feel that, huh?” his voice was rough, low, like he was barely holding himself together.

you could only nod, biting your lip, feeling that throb intensify in response.

you wanted to say something clever, something to keep the mood light, but all that escaped you was a quiet, desperate “yeah…"

he chuckled breathlessly, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “look at you,” he murmured, one hand trailing down to squeeze your hip, his thumb tracing small circles just to keep you even more on edge.

“you sure you’re ready for this?”

“toji…” you practically whimpered, squirming in his grip, his voice sending another jolt straight down to where you ached. “you’re the one who offered, remember?”

“mm,” he hummed, his voice going even lower, the words barely a murmur as his hand trailed up your thigh. “i did. and trust me… i’m gonna make damn sure you don’t regret it.”

the throb in your core turned into a full, needy ache, and from the way he was looking at you, it was clear he was just as affected, every breath deep and slow like he was savoring this moment.

it took every ounce of self-control not to just… well, throw yourself at him, but he was giving you that little smirk that said he was definitely going to take his sweet time with this.

oh god.

you didn’t even get a chance to formulate a comeback before he had your pants halfway down, those dark eyes glinting with way too much satisfaction at your wide-eyed, barely-composed look.

this man was on a mission, and your brain was rapidly short-circuiting.

“matching set, huh?” he mused, a smug grin spreading across his face as he glanced from your discarded bra back to the lacy underwear you were currently trying to keep from absolutely melting in. “dare i say you were planning this, sweetheart?”

oh, you wanted to snap back. something witty, maybe a sarcastic quip — but his hands settled at the curve of your hips, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to send a shiver up your spine, and it’s like every coherent thought just fizzled out right there.

"don't push your luck, fushiguro," you managed, voice barely a whisper, trying your best to sound confident.

"oh, i'm not pushing anything...yet." he smirked, leaning in close enough that his breath fanned over your exposed skin, and oh god, was he eyeing your underwear like he was already halfway through devouring you with just his gaze?

as if it couldn’t get worse — or better — he hooked a finger around the waistband, tugging just slightly and raising an eyebrow.

“tell me when to stop,” he murmured, teasing, waiting for a sign, a word — anything.

you gulped, feeling the air go heavy, and the words came out before you could even stop yourself. “don’t stop.”

toji could swear he heard a damn orchestra kicking off in his head the second he finally got you out of those damn panties, his eyes fixed on the sight of you bared beneath him.

honestly, he felt a little dizzy — a grown man, practically undone by this — and he was not about to mess it up. yeah, he was ready to dive in.

but god forbid he skip over anything as important as making absolutely sure you were okay with it.

his breath came out uneven as he leaned closer, warmth fanning over your core. "you... you're sure about this, right?" he asked, voice barely more than a whisper, his thumb grazing your inner thigh as his other hand tightened its hold. "you can stop me anytime, really. swear on our little pinky promise." he gave a small, reassuring squeeze, but you could hear the faintest tremor in his words.

“toji,” you murmured, breath coming out in frustrated little puffs, but he just kept talking, checking and re-checking because he wasn’t about to mess this up.

"just gotta be absolutely sure, sweetheart," he said, now with a crooked smile, eyes twinkling like this was both the most serious and hilarious thing he’d ever done. "if this is too much, just tell me." he pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh, half-expecting you to push him away or maybe even change your mind.

instead, he felt your hand on the back of his head, fingers gripping tight and — oh.

well, that was his answer then, wasn’t it?

“just — stop talking,” you mumbled, shoving him down in a way that left no room for ambiguity, and he couldn’t help the groan that escaped as he finally made contact with your cunt.

that was all he needed.

any restraint he’d been clinging to snapped, and he closed his mouth — well, not literally — because he was about to put it to much better use.

the minute toji’s mouth latched onto you, your brain might as well have been yanked out and replaced with static.

this was nothing like what you’d written — no, this was raw, needy, almost overwhelming.

in your books, eating out had been... gentler? polished, even, with words like “savor” and “caress.” things like “he licked her like she was the sweetest dessert,” and even “he lapped at her like she was honey.”

but this?

this was... messy. desperate.

each flick of his tongue sent jolts through you that words could never do justice to. “velvet-soft licks” and “feather-light touches” — pfft, no, you were beginning to realize how off the mark you'd been. where was the “velvet softness” in the rough warmth of his tongue, the almost urgent pressure he was putting on you?

you could practically see your own overly-romanticized lines flashing in your head as if taunting you: “gentle ministrations left her a quivering mess.”

yeah, you were quivering all right, but the way he worked his mouth was anything but gentle. in fact, the “gentle assault,” as people liked to call it, felt like he was trying to unravel every last nerve. every hum he let out against you sent another wave of heat straight to your core, and every swipe of his tongue was this maddening blend of rhythm and chaos, hitting spots that made you gasp and clutch at his hair with abandon.

“you really wrote all that poetic stuff?” he mumbled between licks, barely lifting his mouth from you, smirking against your skin like he knew exactly how thrown you were. “guess you’re gonna have to rewrite it all, huh?”

you wanted to retort, but words were beyond you.

instead, a strangled, nonsensical sound escaped, and he chuckled, letting his mouth return with more insistence, even nipping lightly just to see you jolt.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. ’m just givin’ you some material to work with,” he whispered, eyes flashing up to meet yours, clearly relishing in how absolutely wrecked you were under him.

not even a couple minutes in, and already, you were close to cumming — so close that all your earlier attempts at keeping it together turned into outright babbling.

“oh — god, toji, that — right there, don’t you — ah!” you whimpered, cutting yourself off with a sharp inhale as his tongue found that one spot that made your thighs start trembling around his head. “don’t... oh my god... don’t stop — please don’t —!”

your fingers clawed into his hair, trying to keep him right there, as if he even needed a reminder. and if your writhing and half-coherent pleas weren’t enough encouragement, toji could feel the telltale quivering of your legs, see the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath.

yeah, you were gonna cum, and he knew it.

“that good, huh?” he muttered against your folds, the vibration making you moan even louder. “wanna tell me what you’re feelin’ right now so you can remember it for that research of yours?”

“t-toji, please — just —” you stammered, your brain too fried to give him anything but desperate babbles. “need you to... oh — just keep going, don’t — don’t talk, just...”

he chuckled against you, but his mouth never slowed. in fact, he redoubled his efforts, tongue pressing firmer, alternating between those long, slow drags and quicker, flicking strokes, every one sending electric shocks through your body that you could barely process. all you could do was clutch at his hair, unable to find the words to tell him how close you were.

he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying every second of this, watching you like this, your usual sharp wit and composure reduced to nonsensical pleas and gasps, and all because of him.

“come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, slipping his hands under your thighs to hold you steady, his fingers digging in just enough to keep you exactly where he wanted. “you’re so close, can feel it. don’t hold back — show me how good it feels.”

and that was all it took.

your body seized up, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the tension finally snapped, sending a wave of pleasure that left you reeling. you barely registered your own voice, the words spilling out somewhere between a plea and a demand.

it took a solid sixty seconds for reality to come crashing down on you — that the whole time, you’d been squealing like a lamb to the slaughter, blissfully unaware of the fact that megumi was literally sleeping in the next room over, across the hallway.

god, you wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. you’d just hit new decibel records, loud enough that anyone within a two-room radius would be alerted to the whole scene unfolding out here.

you covered your face, cheeks blazing as post-nut clarity came barreling in like an uninvited guest at a party.

the first realization: holy hell, you’d just had an orgasm coaxed out of you by another person.

and not just any person — nope, the man looking at you with that trademark smug look, his brow cocked as he tried to keep from laughing.

“what?” he asked, his tone as infuriatingly self-satisfied as ever, his lips glistening with the very evidence of your... uh, situation. “you look like you’re about to combust or somethin’.”

"no! i just... can’t believe... that really happened,” you stammered, swallowing the absurdity of it all, hardly able to meet his eyes.

“and with you, of all people.”

“oh, yeah? who were you thinkin’ about when you were writing that smut of yours?” he grinned, lounging back, way too pleased with himself.

you swatted his arm, finally managing a scowl. “oh, shut up! this wasn’t — i wasn’t — this was supposed to be a research exercise.”

“well, you did get a little, uh, hands-on learning,” he teased, eyes twinkling, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“toji! i was practically screaming,” you hissed, scrambling to pull a pillow over yourself, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “megumi’s in the next room! do you know what i’ll do if he heard that?”

he just chuckled, completely unfazed. “oh, he sleeps like a rock. trust me. he’s not gonna hear any of this. but if you’re worried about it, guess we’ll just have to work on our volume control next time, huh?”

next time?

you almost spluttered at the very idea, but there was something addictive in the way he said it, like this whole scenario was already just the beginning of some ongoing arrangement.

and you?

well, after that, the idea of another round didn’t sound half bad — embarrassment and all.

“oh, don’t act like you’re not into the idea,” he teased, catching that glimmer of interest despite your efforts to seem outraged.

you sat there, a confusing blend of irritation and... something else, as you noticed toji’s situation.

his hard-on was still very much an issue, evident in the way his sweatpants strained against him. at first, he tried to play it off, waving his hand like it was no big deal. “eh, don’t worry about it,” he muttered, attempting nonchalance despite the clear discomfort in his voice.

but that just felt like a challenge.

“oh, so you’re just gonna sit there like that?” you asked, a mischievous smirk curling at your lips.

toji cocked a brow, clearly sensing where this was going. “what are you gettin’ at?”

you scooted closer, feeling a surge of confidence at the sight of his expression changing, almost as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

"well, since you put so much effort in, maybe i should... return the favor?” you murmured, your fingers slipping down to graze the waistband of his pants.

the second those words left your mouth, toji practically choked, his composure unraveling just enough for you to catch a flicker of nervous excitement.

“careful what you’re gettin’ yourself into,” he rasped, voice thick, though you could see the flicker of a smirk.

but when you tugged his pants down, just enough to free him, that cockiness took a swift exit.

“you’re serious, aren’t you?” he breathed, his usual bravado slipping as you took him in hand.

“oh, don’t act like you’re not excited,” you teased, shooting him a wink as you started slow, savoring the way his head fell back, a low groan escaping his lips.

by the time you took him fully, sliding your mouth down and earning a strangled, “shit — fuck, careful, sweetheart,” you knew you were onto something.

his fingers found your hair, gripping lightly, though you could tell he was barely holding on, his muscles tense, jaw clenched.

“if you keep goin’ like that, i swear... i won’t last,” he ground out, practically panting. but that only spurred you on, determined to make him unravel completely.

and toji? with the way his hips bucked, his hand clenching and unclenching, he was clearly in blissful agony, barely holding back.

it was almost surreal, really — the flashes of every single “m oral” scene you’d ever meticulously crafted in your stories were running through your head. it was like you’d written these moments for a thousand characters and now, finally, you were experiencing one yourself.

only… no scene you’d ever written could’ve fully prepared you for this.

the way your mouth stretched around him, the warm weight of him against your tongue, the salty taste mixing with the faint scent of him — it all just felt so real.

and “death by dick?”

well, you’d imagined it a hundred times in jest, but with toji... you couldn’t think of a better way to go.

him, on the other hand, looked completely floored, eyes dark and half-lidded as he watched you, mouth parted in disbelief.

“this… your first time doing this?” he asked, almost incredulously, voice hoarse and breathless, like he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact.

his question earned a sly, humored look from you, but you didn’t stop, dragging your tongue along his length in a way that made his grip tighten in your hair. “shit, babe, you… you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, though there was a distinct pride laced in his tone — like the idea of being your first made him want to last as long as he could and cum in a few minutes all at once.

“you’re too damn good at this,” he rasped, brows furrowing in concentration as he struggled to hold back, the feeling of your soft lips and the light suction nearly enough to make him lose it right then and there.

toji was doing his best to keep a gentle rhythm, letting you adjust, guiding you slowly — because damn did he want you to be comfortable.

but the closer he got to cumming, the harder it was to hold back, and before he knew it, all kinds of filthy words were slipping out of his mouth.

“you’re really using your colleague for this, huh?” he rasped out between heavy breaths, his voice low and rough. “actin’ like you’re all sweet ‘n innocent, but here you are, puttin’ that pretty mouth to good use…” his fingers tightened in your hair, every word spilling out dirtier than the last as he fought to stay coherent. “couldn’t wait to see what it’d feel like, huh? what i’d feel like?”

you could only hum in response, both stunned and electrified at how he spoke to you, a thrill shooting through you with every low, teasing word. he alternated from murmured praise, telling you how good you were, how perfect your mouth felt, to more degrading words that made your cheeks heat up, his voice dripping with that gruff, amused edge.

“never thought my sweet author would be down on her knees, looking so — ah, shit — filthy.” his grip on your hair grew firmer, his breaths coming out quicker, as if he was barely holding himself together. “look at you… chokin’ on me, takin’ it like a good girl…”

and just as he’s about to cum, his body moved on instinct. his hand tightened in your hair, and he pulled you down until your nose brushed against his stomach, feeling him pulse against your tongue. you choked a little, the sensation overwhelming, and with a shuddering groan, he finally came, riding out his release.

the second he did, though, his eyes went wide.

“oh, shit, shit — baby, you okay?” he was practically tripping over his words as he pulled back slightly, his hands cupping your face with an almost frantic gentleness.

“i didn’t mean to — god, i… i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t mean to…you alright?”

as you tugged your shirt back on, toji slumped back into the sofa beside you, throwing a very dramatic sigh your way.

“really? you’re putting the shirt back on already?” he scoffed, throwing his head back, one hand over his heart like he’d just been personally betrayed.

“oh, please,” you rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh. “i think you got a pretty good view already, mister dragon king.”

he snorted at the nickname. “still, it’s a shame. i was just getting used to you, y’know, without it.” he gave you a playful grin, eyes wandering a little too purposefully down your now-covered torso. “it’s practically disrespectful to put it back on after that.”

“disrespectful?” you shot him a look, pretending to be scandalized. “says the man who had the nerve to yank my pants off like I wouldn’t notice.”

“hey,” he chuckled, holding his hands up in mock innocence, “in my defense, you looked way too good with them off.” he shrugged casually, though the gleam in his eyes said otherwise. “besides, you didn’t seem to mind.”

“maybe,” you admitted, leaning back against the sofa with a little smile. you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you just a bit closer until you could feel the warmth of his bare chest against your side. “still... not sure i’ll ever live down what just happened.”

“which part?” he raised a brow, looking amused as he tucked you closer to him. “the part where you tried to suffocate me or the part where you shoved my head down?”

you smacked his arm lightly, laughing. “shut up. i didn’t shove you — i just... suggested very strongly.”

he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “yeah, yeah, you ‘suggested.’ guess it’s good i’m into pushy women, huh?”

you both laughed, and as the sound settled, you realized just how right this felt.

there was something strangely comforting about this moment — the two of you, just sitting there, basking in the quiet after all the chaos. you couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, the kind that made you all too aware of how special this moment was.

“hey,” you murmured, glancing up at him, suddenly feeling a little shy. “i’m... glad it was you, for, well, you know... all of this.” you gestured vaguely, but toji’s gaze softened, like he understood exactly what you meant.

“yeah?” he asked, his voice quieter now, thumb brushing a gentle circle on your shoulder. “didn’t think i’d be the one, honestly. but... i’m glad it was me too. you’re kinda... unforgettable, you know that?”

you laughed, cheeks warming. “you sound like one of my romance novels.”

“oh, please.” he gave a little scoff, though the smile tugging at his lips was unmistakable. “if i were a romance novel guy, i’d be way more dramatic than this.” he paused, then threw in a mock-swoony, “oh, my darling! i shall never forget this evening of rapture!”

you burst into laughter, nearly doubling over as he continued, exaggerating his voice and gestures, “the way you, my fair lady, shoved my head to the heavens... or rather, between your —”

“okay, stop,” you wheezed, playfully slapping his arm again. “you’re impossible!”

“impossibly charming,” he corrected with a smug grin.

the laughter settled, and you found yourself just gazing at him for a moment, savoring the warmth and the easy comfort between you. it was a strange feeling — new, yet familiar at the same time. with a sigh, you leaned into his chest, letting your fingers trace little patterns along his arm.

“thanks, toji,” you murmured softly, “for being... you.”

he looked down, his expression softening as he pulled you closer. “hey, anytime.” after a moment, he added in a playful whisper, “and for the record, i’m still protesting the shirt.”

you rolled your eyes, but nestled deeper against him, smiling to yourself.

toji let out a low groan, glancing at the clock. “ugh, we should probably get to bed,” he muttered, reluctantly shifting on the sofa.

“yeah,” you agreed with a little sigh, realizing how late it had gotten. “megumi’s probably sprawled all over, snoring up a storm and drooling on my pillow.”

he chuckled at that, standing up and stretching. “kid’s probably babbling away about frogs or something. you know he was talking about ‘frog powers’ the other night?”

you laughed, following him as he headed toward the bedroom. “he’s got an active imagination. wonder where he gets it from...”

toji gave you a teasing smirk. “oh, yeah? well, you’re the writer in this house.”

you both reached the door, easing it open gently to peek in. sure enough, megumi was lying right in the middle of the bed, completely hogging the space with an arm thrown over your pillow, tiny mouth open, drooling a little as he mumbled something unintelligible.

“my pillow’s gone,” you whispered with a chuckle, shaking your head. “but look at him. i can’t even be mad.”

toji just stared for a moment, the soft rise and fall of his son’s chest filling him with a strange warmth. he was quiet, but there was this look in his eyes — a mixture of tenderness and awe.

he leaned close, murmuring, “every time i see him like this, i can’t believe i got so damn lucky. that i get to be his dad, y’know?”

you reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “you’re a great dad, toji.”

he smiled softly, wrapping his fingers around yours. “thanks,” he said quietly, his gaze still on megumi. after a beat, he added, “c’mon, let’s get in there before he wakes up and realizes he can kick us off the bed.”

you both carefully slipped under the covers, but this time, instead of settling on either side of him like usual, there was a silent understanding — a new, natural shift. you curled up behind megumi, your arm wrapped around his little body, while toji slid in behind you, his arm settling around your waist. he felt you press a soft kiss to megumi’s head, and something about the moment felt... whole. complete.

toji nestled closer, his chest warm against your back, his face buried in your hair as he whispered, “this... yeah, this is pretty perfect.” his hand found yours under the covers, intertwining your fingers together.

you smiled, feeling the warmth of him surround you. “feels... right, doesn’t it?”

“more than right,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “never thought i’d be the guy lying in bed, cuddling up with... with you, and him.” he swallowed, a hint of emotion in his voice. “never thought i’d get this lucky.”

you squeezed his hand, and the silence that followed was soft, peaceful. after a moment, toji’s fingers traced slow circles over your knuckles as he mumbled, “think he’ll mind if we’re both here when he wakes up?”

“probably not. he’s got his favorite people right here,” you whispered back, feeling his thumb brush along your hand. “plus, i don’t think he’d mind waking up to his frog-loving dad next to him.”

toji chuckled, his chest vibrating against your back. “yeah, frog powers and all. kid’s got taste, huh?”

“must take after his dad,” you teased, grinning.

he snorted. “oh, don’t go putting ideas in his head.” he shifted slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your head. “but hey... thanks. for this. for... y’know, letting me have this.”

you leaned back into his embrace, closing your eyes. “wouldn’t want it any other way, toji.”

and with that, the three of you drifted into a warm, quiet sleep, held together by a bond that felt as strong as anything you’d ever known.

sitting at your laptop, you found yourself typing with a newfound intensity, almost unable to keep up with the words spilling out of your mind and onto the screen.

the romance between the dragon king and the princess — previously a plot device to add some “spice” — now felt infused with something else entirely. something raw, something softer, something more... real.

toji’s touch, his voice, his warmth — all those things lingered in your mind, guiding your fingers as you breathed life into scenes that once felt staged. now, they felt natural, like they were flowing from some deep, hidden well. it was almost laughable how last night’s escapade had changed everything, but you couldn’t deny it. you smirked as you wrote, feeling every word resonate with a clarity that wasn’t there before.

and then, after hours of relentless typing, a quick text to shoko:

you [12:30 pm]: hey, mind taking a look at the new chapter?

within minutes, she was at your place, reading your screen as you paced in the background, trying not to hover.

“alriiight, what do we have here…” shoko began, her eyes scanning the text. she paused. blinked.

then slowly lifted her gaze to you, one eyebrow arched. “you... did write this, right?”

“hey! what’s that supposed to mean?” you huffed, crossing your arms with a smirk. “just... tell me what you think, alright?”

she raised her hands in mock surrender. “alright, alright.” then her eyes dipped back to the screen, and this time she read aloud,

“the dragon king’s fingers traced along the princess’ collarbone, the gentleness of his touch a stark contrast to the weight of his strength. ‘you’re safe with me,’ he whispered, his voice a low murmur against her ear.”

she stopped reading aloud, her eyebrows raised a little higher, and then looked at you.

“...safe with me? wow. last time i checked, this guy was like, ‘get in my lair, princess,’ but now he’s a softie? who is this dragon king, and what did you do to the one who existed, like, two days ago?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the heat creeping up your cheeks. “well, maybe he’s... evolving. finding his softer side, or whatever. i don’t know, shoko, do you like it or not?”

she leaned back, a mischievous smirk spreading across her face. “oh, i like it alright. you’re actually writing a romance. like, a legit one. not just something with ten billion euphemisms for —”

“don’t say it,” you interrupted, laughing and waving her off.

she just laughed. “fine, fine, but seriously, what happened? you’ve always been good, but there’s something... different here. it’s like you’re channeling the romance instead of just writing it.”

you swallowed, feeling that flutter in your chest as you recalled the night before, with toji and the way he made you feel so... cherished. it was so much more than just physical, and it translated into every keystroke.

“maybe i just... i don’t know, felt inspired?” you muttered, giving her a small, sheepish smile.

“inspired, huh?” she grinned knowingly. “well, whoever gave you that inspiration, tell them i say thank you. this stuff? it’s gold.” she leaned forward, her expression softening a bit. “this isn’t just commercial smut anymore. this has heart.”

you felt a sense of pride bloom inside you as she kept reading, the quiet tapping of her finger on the edge of your desk as she occasionally mumbled things like, “oh, that’s good,” and “damn, that’s really good.”

“sooo... what’s your verdict?” you asked when she finally looked up, a grin teasing at her lips.

she closed the laptop with a flourish, fixing you with a smirk. “well, i can’t wait to see where this story goes. you’ve finally gotten to the real heart of it. don’t stop now. oh, and if that dragon king of yours has any friends... i’d like one. just sayin’.”

laughing, you gave her a hug. “alright, alright, if i find one, you’ll be the first to know.”

and as she left, you sat back down at your laptop, fingers hovering over the keys.

inspired? maybe.

but something told you it was more than just that. and as you resumed writing, you knew this was exactly where the story was meant to go.

toji ^.^ [6:26 pm]: hey, you busy? you [6:30 pm]: yeah 😭 but i'm thinking about you both! toji [6:32 pm]: yeah? thinking enough to take a break and maybe come over later? you [6:40 pm]: :((( i REALLYY wanna, but this chapter has me by the throat. gotta finish while the inspiration’s hot. toji [6:40 pm]: yeah, i get it. toji [6:40 pm]: still, kinda wish you could be here… you [6:41 pm]: i know! i’ll make it up to you and megumi, promise. you two are always on my mind 💕 toji [6:41 pm]: alright. don’t work yourself to death, alright? we miss you. you [6:42 pm]: 🥺🥺 hug him for me, yeah? toji [6:42 pm]: always. but holding you to that promise.

it was late, and toji had just finished reading megumi his favorite story, watching him drift off, all tangled in the blankets. toji was barely leaving the room before he heard megumi mumbling sleepily, almost to himself.

"when's she coming back?"

toji felt that pang, the same one he got every time you were too busy to swing by. he tucked the blanket a little tighter around megumi’s small frame, brushing a hand over his hair.

"she’s got a lot of work, bud," he murmured, low enough that megumi might not even hear. "she’ll come soon, i promise."

megumi nodded sleepily, giving a tiny, droopy smile before settling back into the pillow, and toji let out a soft sigh, watching the little guy drift back off.

a few days later, toji was back at gojo-sonic, caught in the back-and-forth about the upcoming project when satoru, who was way too perceptive for his own good, leaned over with that smirk of his.

“soooo, toji, how’s the ‘inspiration’ been treating you?” satoru teased, one eyebrow arched.

“shut it, satoru,” toji muttered, rolling his eyes but not able to hide the hint of a smile.

satoru shrugged, grinning like he’d struck gold. “hey, i get it. long-distance love, practically a tragic romance. she’s probably typing away, ignoring you...”

toji groaned, already regretting sharing any details. but then satoru’s expression softened, just slightly.

“hey, she’ll come back around. give her time. just means she’s actually doing what she loves, right?”

toji nodded, a bit of that weight lifting. he missed you, sure, but there was something about seeing you so passionate about your writing, knowing he’d sparked even a part of it.

and if that meant a few late nights alone, well... it was worth it.

toji dragged himself down the hallway, nearly ready to collapse with each step. the recording had been a nightmare — a mic malfunction right in the middle of his best take, a last-minute script revision that completely changed the character’s tone, and a sound engineer who wouldn’t stop fussing over the tiniest background noises. all he wanted was a strong drink and a bed to crash in.

maybe both, at this rate.

as he turned the key in the door and stepped inside his suite, though, he heard... giggles? his eyes blinked, adjusting to the dim light. in the middle of the room, megumi was squealing, running from none other than you, who were wearing an iron man mask, arms outstretched like you were going to scoop him up at any second. the sight stopped him dead in his tracks, exhaustion washing away in an instant.

of course, he remembered giving you a spare key, but it still surprised him to see you here, like a surprise balm to his long day.

“daddy!” megumi yelled, darting over to him, grabbing onto his leg. “look, it’s iron man!”

toji huffed a laugh, setting his bag down. “yeah? well, iron man better be careful before he gets ambushed.”

you lifted the mask, peering at him with a grin. “hey, dragon king. long day?”

“you have no idea,” he muttered, shaking his head, but he couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto his face.

seeing you here, with megumi so happily engaged in a silly game, felt like walking into a whole new world, one where he could just breathe.

“want me to blast him with my repulsor beams?” you joked, wiggling your fingers in megumi’s direction. the little guy shrieked, pretending to hide behind toji’s leg but clearly loving every second of it.

“better not,” toji chuckled. “he’s got a long night of running around ahead of him, looks like.”

“oh, come on,” you teased, tossing the mask aside and crossing the room to wrap your arms around his waist. “i think the dragon king deserves a break.”

he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “yeah, i’d say so. didn’t expect to find you here tonight.”

you smiled, looking up at him. “thought i’d surprise you. guess it worked?”

“yeah,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “worked a little too well. can’t say i’m not happy about it.”

“okay, ew,” megumi said, tugging at toji’s pant leg. “can we go back to iron man now?”

toji laughed, ruffling his hair. “yeah, yeah, don’t get jealous, kiddo. why don’t you show her the move i taught you earlier?”

megumi’s face lit up as he immediately struck a pose, fists clenched, trying to look all tough. “look, iron man! i can fight like daddy!”

“oh, wow!” you gasped, feigning surprise. “i don’t stand a chance, do i?”

“nope!” megumi declared, clearly proud.

toji watched you both with a softness he rarely let show.

somehow, you just fit right in here, with him and megumi, in a way he didn’t think was possible. his life was so often filled with tension and challenges, but seeing you like this, in his space, making megumi laugh like it was the most natural thing in the world... well, it did something to him.

the world outside could keep its troubles. right here, right now, this was all he needed.

“y’know, i was about to make myself a drink,” he said, glancing at you. “but this... this might be better.”

you gave him a soft smile, squeezing his hand. “well, lucky for you, i already poured you one. just sitting there on the counter waiting for you to notice.”

toji raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the drink he’d completely missed. “oh, so you’re full of surprises tonight?”

“just for you,” you murmured.

toji sank onto the sofa, cradling the glass you'd poured for him. as he took a sip, he let out a satisfied hum, leaning back and watching as megumi raced around the room, still brimming with energy. you were crouched down, arms out and dramatically dodging his attacks, fully committing to the role of iron man battling his formidable opponent, the "evil dragon."

toji couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing his son’s face alight with happiness, and decided he’d add a little fuel to this game.

he cleared his throat, straightening up on the couch as if on a stage, and dropped his voice to a low, gravelly tone. "ah, iron man! you’ve come to challenge the mighty dragon!" he boomed, lifting his drink dramatically. "but little do you know... i have an army of minions at my command!"

"oh no!" you gasped, feigning shock, as you glanced at megumi. "the mighty dragon has backup?"

megumi cackled with delight, waving his arms around. "yeah! and i’m the strongest one!”

toji held his hand to his chest, fighting back laughter as he leaned into his role. "you’ll never defeat us, iron man. my son, the evil dragon prince, will make sure of it."

megumi, now fully invested, stomped his foot. "get her, dad!"

"aha, but iron man has a few tricks up her sleeve!" you declared, lunging forward with playful swipes, causing megumi to dart behind the sofa for cover.

toji watched, transfixed, as you and megumi continued the game, your laughter blending together in a way that filled every corner of his suite. his heart swelled as he saw the ease with which you fell into this little world with them.

he wasn’t sure exactly when he’d started to imagine it, but in this moment, the thought fully settled in him: this was what he wanted.

a life where you were more than just a visitor, where you were there every day, filling their home with laughter and warmth, where megumi had a mother he adored just as much as his father.

"don’t think you can escape my wrath that easily, iron man!" he called out, smirking as he put on an exaggerated serious face, holding back a laugh. "this villain is relentless!"

"oh, we’ll see about that!" you shot back, now crawling over to the sofa, reaching for toji’s leg as if to pull him into the fray.

toji raised an eyebrow, pretending to be horrified. "wait, no! not me! i’m just an innocent bystander!"

"yeah, right!" megumi giggled, pushing toji’s knee to “trap” him. "you’re on my team, daddy, you’re evil too!"

"right, right!" toji winked at you, lowering his voice. "well, if i must play the villain… then let it be known that the evil dragon prince and i have one weakness."

megumi’s eyes widened, and he immediately looked to you, curious. "what is it?"

toji glanced at you, a soft smile on his lips. "our only weakness is… iron man’s hug attack."

"ah-ha!" you shouted triumphantly, launching yourself forward and wrapping both of them in a bear hug. megumi squealed in delight as toji laughed, caught up in the warmth of your arms around him. for a moment, the three of you were just tangled up on the couch, the room filled with the sound of giggles and breathless laughter.

as he held you close, toji let himself fully sink into the feeling.

he knew then and there, more clearly than ever, that he wanted this to be his life.

he wanted you as his wife, as megumi’s mom.

he wanted this laughter, this warmth, every single day. his hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, a silent promise he hoped you’d understand.

you looked at him, your gaze softening, a knowing smile on your face. "thanks for the assist, dragon king," you murmured, squeezing his hand back.

"anything for iron man," he replied, his voice low and affectionate. "besides, someone’s gotta keep this dragon prince in line."

megumi pulled back just enough to look up at you both, an innocent grin on his face as he pointed between you. "you two should team up more often," he declared, clearly oblivious to the deeper meaning of his words, but making toji’s heart race nonetheless.

toji chuckled, wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulder. "you know, kid… i think you’re right."

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thisismeracing · 2 days ago

Note

Can I please request a charles dating a Greek girl *like the Korean girl you did*???👉🏻👈🏻🥹🥹🥹🥺🥺

Hi, love!!! of course <3 here you go! sorry for taking forever, I was off for a bit and just got back hihih

MICK DATING A GREEK GIRL | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to greeks and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Mick already knows Greece, but when you two start dating he's in for a whole new adventure aka getting familiar with culture, sayings, and the idiom;

He becomes obsessed with Greek cuisine. To him, everything is better when it's Greek - greek rice, greek break, greek spaghetti, and the latter let it slip during an interview, and you bet Ferrari fans we're mad for a week or so;

He would encourage you guys to visit the less tourist-centered cities and islands, instead suggesting places where you grew up or had stories to tell;

Mick would make sure to always have his camera on him and register random photos of you - he has a 'Greek girl <3' folder that consists mostly of pictures of you;

Randomly learned to introduce himself in Greek, but got his age wrong and it didn't matter how many times you tried to correct him, he would always forget and say it wrong again, so you just accepted that he was one hundred five instead of twenty-five when in Greece;

Though Mick loved the homey cities, he also loved the famous islands and whenever you traveled there at least one weekend would be spent in one of those. Athenas, Santorini, Corfu, Mykonos, Crete, Zakynthos, Ithaca, you name it, he will pack his bags at the speed of light and be ready to tag along;

He would watch movies that were ambient in Greece and ask you if things were accurate. He looved Mamma Mia and Greek Wedding;

Totally hints that he wants to have a greek wedding after you attend one together; The plates breaking? The common cup? the wedding face? He watched it all in awe;

Now when it comes to meeting the family Mick is nervous. He wants to make everything right so he will try to at least introduce himself in Greek -and he'll most likely get nervous again and say he's one hundred-five years lol it becomes a family thing, and he feels at home around your folks;

Same to you and his family that will definitely put Greece on their next vacay destination just to spend some quality family time with everyone.

Overall Mick is just super curious and open to learning about you and your culture, and will go around talking about how cool things are in Greece because he's this type of person. He's obsessed with your country, but he's even more obsessed with you.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts, it means a lot to me <3 *mwah*

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘 ▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

#millies inbox #anon #ms47 #mick schumacher #op: headcanons #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #greek!reader #mick schumacher headcanon #mick schumacher imagine #f1 imagines #f1 headcanons

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artslovergirl · 1 day ago

Text

art & patrick at mark rebellato academy

[headcanons]

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

wordcount: 3.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

like i mentioned in my other post these two were BITCHES

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

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

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

actual mean girls LMAO

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

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

but it also wasn't bullying or anything

they were just judgy and loved to talk shit

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

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

art wore glasses from ages 12 till 14

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

also because it gave him a nice sense of rebellion.

most things he did with patrick gave him that feeling.

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

if you saw one the other wasn't far behind

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

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

especially when playing doubles.

it felt like they could communicate telepathically

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

tennis felt different when they were playing together. better.

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

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

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

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

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

yes!

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

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

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

he is a professional yearner as we all know

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

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

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

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

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

OK SO!

the beds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

even now they were two opposites making a whole

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

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

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

which is still pretty intimate to me idk about you guys

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

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

also patrick for sure twitches like a dog in his sleep

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

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

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

so naturally he asked art to do it for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

“stop trying to change the subject.”

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

“can you focus?” patrick groaned

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

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

“shut the fuck up.”

“you shut the fuck up.”

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

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

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

so all that drama was for nothing!

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

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

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

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

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

so yeah

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #artrick #challengers fanfic #challengers headcanons #challengers fic #ames writes~!

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arecoveringpeoplepleaser · 1 day ago

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So, it is super easy to leave the country.

For anyone that needs to know. Look up the Dutch American Friendship Treaty

Basically, to move to the Netherlands all you have to do is show up and not leave*

Like seriously you do not need permission or a Visa or anything to just show up and not leave.

*You do have to start a business within a year. This business does not have to generate enough income to support you (etsy, book writing, making art).

You can then apply for permanent residence and be qualified for their health care which includes gender affirming care.

Any job you get there will guarantee a basic quality of life not guaranteed here.

If a plane ticket to The Netherlands is a bit expensive, flying to England is often much cheaper and then take the train to The Netherlands. Seriously, in February you can often find plane tickets for 300 to England if you start looking now.

I do not speak Dutch and had no problem navigating several cities in The Netherlands.

It was wierd how often I was told I was loved as an American. I asked why and was told "you know because of the war" they are happy they are not Nazis. I wish I could say the same for America.

Also, you can continue to vote as an American while living there. So, please, consider making this country better for those of us who cannot leave.

You can find other American refugees there and bum on their couch until you can get a job.

As a bonus: The Hague is in The Netherlands and when the angry yam gets tried for international crimes, you will have a front row seat.

#lgbt pride #blacklivesmatter #transgender #asexuality #us politics #lgbtqia

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exocynraku · 2 days ago

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i finished star, so here's my opinions on the book and ASC as a whole; (spoilers!!! obviously!!!)

star was... mediocre HEAVILY leaning bad. i felt like every single conversation until the last couple of chapters was either an arguement or cats calling out to eachother while fighting. i truly think this book highlights how 90% of the time these cats are so delusionally stupid. riverclan willingly following splashtail because they thought he could make the group stronger was so, so stupid. like, i get what they're trying to do, the kin and misttstar/reedwhisker's deaths DID suck for the group, so obviously they'd want to be strong. but did seriously no one go "erm... guys... this Might be a bad idea.." when he started threatening people and kits and making them fight with their claws? "oh but they were scared from the threats" Riverclan, excluding we'll say splashtail, berryheart, podlight, fognose and brackenpelt (who i think were the two exiled? i literally just read the book and i already can't remember) is EIGHTEEN to FIVE. seriously? and if we was threatening kits if they tried to fight back, couldn't you just... devise a plan to get the kits out before attacking? it just felt like such a shambled together plot. and further switching it, pretending they were ONLY fighting splashtail, he's even MORE outnumbered. if you're worried about him coming back to life after dying, just... kill him again! it's so egregious. i'm not going to lie to you guys, so little this arc made sense plot wise with what happened with riverclan and shadowlcna's conflict. this series bring the clans' xenophobia to another LEVEL, highlighting it in a way that shows how seriously stupid it is. there is quite literally ZERO! reason for the clans to dislike each other other than the idea of """loyalty""". i don't really know how to tell you guys! but you are all exactly the same! if anyone had a brain larger than a pea, riverclan would've willingly accepted help from shadowclan and had been FINE! mistystar and reedwhisker's deaths may have been the catalyst, but it was the clans own prejudice against each other that caused riverclan to have a genuine problem. the clans have, very easily, come together before to help eachother or fell a common enemy. it keeps happening! that's been a plot point of so many of the recent arcs! as i've grown up (i read a lot of wc when i was a kid), i've seriously reailzed how EASY it would be for the clans to stop having issues if they stopped having this loyalty complex. so many character decisions are completely illogical once you actually think about them. okay, back to the book. i... didn't really like splashtail's arc of taking over shadowclan? solely from a quality-of-writing standpoint, not really the plot exactly. something about it just felt so weird, in a way i can't explain? i'm not sure. (1/?, see reblogs)

#wc #a starless clan spoilers #asc spoilers #warrior cats spoilers #ray talk

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lairofsentinel · 16 hours ago

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Since this user's posts seem to have been deleted in previous opportunities I copy-paste their words here because they express exactly what I feel about this game. Dragon Age has died, unfortunately.

I'm a big time Dragon Age lover and have enjoyed every game in the series. Personally, I think Inquisition is the best in the series. And I was excited for Veilguard right up until I actually began playing it. Now, I want to clear things up at the start as to what I look for and believe makes a good Dragon Age game. To start, I DON'T CARE ABOUT COMBAT. I. Do. Not. Care.

You can make it Origins tactical. DA2 fast tactical. DAI hybrid. God of War action, I don't care. Dragon Age has always had combat that was...fine. A nice distraction and breakup in between the bits I actually care about: narrative ROLEPLAYING, story, characters, and exploration. I don't give a crap how great the combat is if the narrative roleplaying and writing are poor, I'm not playing BioWare titles for amazing gameplay. I am here for the story, the characters, and the roleplaying. Truth is, for a time I considered DATV's combat to be the best in the series.

And this is why I feel the game is a terrible Dragon Age, because it lacks or fails to respect those elements concerned with narrative roleplaying, story, characters, and exploration. Now, in many reviews and online videos you'll hear some reference often to the drop in writing quality. And a lot of time people will incorrectly say that the writing with the characters is to "modern" or "Marvel quippy" or not "dark" enough. I think these people are wrong, they recognize there is a drop in writing quality from previous games but aren't able to articulate why that is.

Dragon Age has never adopted any sort of faux medieval speech and vocabulary (though we'll get into this more later). This is a series that used "epic fail" as a thing someone uttered in the very first game. It's always had anachronistic dialogue and banter. So why is it such a drop then? Why is it considered poor? Simple. This is a game that does not believe in the world it has setup for over a decade. It does not believe in or engage properly with its own world and lore. I mean, look no further than the title "The Veilguard" a phrase that is never uttered by anyone in our group, and further proof it was a last minute marketing change. Compare to Inquisition where the title is apparent from the start in the game and has actual meaning.

You see, characters in DATV do not feel or react to events the way they should based on the lore. Why is no one constantly asking what the hell the Inquisitor is doing? The Inquisitor is kind of a BIG DEAL when it comes to Solas and Elven Gods, my Inquisitor drank from the WELL OF SORROWS! So why are we sitting around thinking at the start, "hmm lemme think who I can contact who might know more." The Herald of Andraste! They know more Rook, the guy that is technically your boss. The Inquisitor! Who else have you been working for this entire time? Who do you think told Varric to recruit you?!

But even removing the Inquisitor, the Elven Gods being real and also near synonymous with the old Tevinter Gods is kind of a BIG DEAL. It was only a theory fans crafted long ago that slowly revealed itself to be true. And it completely upends known religious dogma on all sides. Yet, why aren't people we meet going through a massive existential crisis? For instance, the Veil Jumpers we initially meet were presumably told off-screen about Fen'Harel, and are seemingly cool with this massive knowledge alone. But then we talk about those two other Gods being released and they're like, "well, shit those two aren't good." As if they have any clue if the fables about those Gods are real when we previously just upended everything they thought about the Dreadwolf! Why are you acting like this is another Tuesday?! Your entire religion is wrong. In that same conversation, Strife notes "Solas might be a bastard, but compared to the Evunaris? Let's just say they weren't know for being kind rulers."

My brother in Anduril, what are you talking about! Elven religion teaches that Elgar'nan was so beloved by the Earth that it "the land brought forth great birds and beasts of sky and forest, and all manner of wonderful green things." And that he fought the jealous Sun that tried to burn the land and all beasts away. Custom says that he and Mythal, "created the world as we know it" after defeating the Sun. He is literally described as one of the "good" Gods. WHY ARE YOU ASSUMING HE IS EVIL! It's like finding out Satan is real, but not as evil as have come to believe and then being told Jesus Christ is back and a devout Christian going, "well shit, that can't be good." WHAT?!

The same goes for Andraste and the Chant of Light, it took me 30 hours of playing before ONE character mentioned Andraste and the implications with the Chant and it was never brought up again. Our entire party is seemingly made up of unphased atheists. Now compare to something like Inquisition which explored this aspect HARD and was amazing for it. You'd get into great debates with religious figures and party members about the implications of Corypheus actually being a Tevinter Magister of old. And you'd talk about what it means towards the religious dogma preached and how much is true. And these intense political and religious discussions are present in every previous game, and not confined to a single conversation with one party member where it is seemingly resolved.

These conversations do not happen in DATV because there is no depth to the writing or engagement with the world. The Elven Gods are evil and need to be stopped. That's it. We don't need to think about the implications this has on Dalish customs and religion. Fuck it, all the Dalish are going to still wear their Vallaslin slave brand tattoos. Let's forget about Trespasser implying Solas was removing them from followers coming to join him. Let's even forget they were likely all told at this point that they are slave brands, nope still going to wear them yet speak blasphemy with every sentence against our Gods. No one cares about Andraste or The Maker or the Chant. Big deal if these Elven Gods contradict the overwhelming majority religion in Thedas. Not a single party member has religious or cultural objections to killing the Elven Gods; not a problem. Not one single elf wants to join Solas in tearing down The Veil and getting immortality again?

Again, let's forget about Trespasser setting up Solas gathering MANY Elven followers from Dalish clans who would be super inclined to join him after experiencing CENTURIES of discrimination and slavery by humans. The better question is what Elves wouldn't join Solas at the start? And what Elves wouldn't look at the other two Gods and go, "meh, maybe we should give them a try. They can't be worse than humans, right?" In DA2 you had elves joining The Qun to escape the discrimination of humans, but not ONE ELF wants to join Solas or Elgar'nan? Those Ancient Elves in the Temple of Mythal? I guess they all died, right?

This extends to EVERY single element of Dragon Age that previously had depth to it, it now has been completely removed. Those murdering Antivan Crows? Oh, they're just good Italian Mob Family that protect their city. Tevinter? Yes, it has poor people, but we're trying to do better. Oh, slavery? No, no we don't show that here. The Qun? The what now? No, they are all Antaam now, and so that means they are all generic evil warlords. No, they don't even attempt to follow their own hardcore view of The Qun like when Templars split from the Chantry, they're just warlords now that like plunder. Dwarves and their rigid Caste society? We don't do that here. Elves and racism across Thedas? Elves used to experience racism? News to me, what's a Shemlen? Never heard of that term, we like all humans. Pirates? That is insensitive, we are Lords of Fortune and we are sure to return any cultural artifacts found to their rightful owners; it belongs in a museum after all. The fucking Fade and spirits? Wait, you mean its different than generic fantasy spirit world? I'm sorry, that's too complicated here.

This either intentional disregard of the lore or plain ignorance also extends to environmental design. The asset reuse from Inquisition is particularly hilarious and must speak to the developers not having time after the switch from MP. Why are the same statues found in Val Royeaux in DAI also in Tevinter and Antiva? Why are those stupid Fen'Harel Wolf statues EVERYWHERE? Even in the catacombs of other Elven Gods! There are no statues of Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain. Nothing for June or Anduril. Dirthamen. Falon'Din. Nothing. No, the only Gods that seem to get statues are coincidentally the ones who already had assets created for DAI or past titles that could be reused. Hmmm.

This continues into character designs too, why do the Veiljumpers and Shadow Dragons all dress richly? They are supposed to be poor as fuck. There's a codex entry about Veiljumpers finding a lost cache of old ancient elven armor and weapons and so boom they all get to dress like High Elven Lords and not the dirty, poor, wandering Dalish clans they are supposed to come from. Why do this? There isn't even an attempt to explaining why the Shadow Dragons, an organization supposed to be secretive, has branded clothing in bright rich colors and fabrics for all members. Naturally, it must be incredibly difficult for Tevinter authorities to not identify them.

This lack of depth and verisimilitude, naturally, affects all the characters. Because in this game you cannot roleplay and you cannot ask questions. In Dragon Age Inquisition, once you started the game, you could immediately interrogate Varric about what happened to every DA2 character despite the Inquisitor never meeting them, you know because it respects its players. You could speak to shop keepers, blacksmiths, your horse master. You could interrogate every single person to learn more about them and the world. The same goes for your player character in DA2 and Origins. You show in Denermin and find yourself knee deep in a quest to help Wade the Blacksmith craft the perfect armor. Here you can't actually speak to a single shopkeeper to ask questions and get some lore bits. You can't ask party members questions about their background, religious beliefs, upbringing, their factions, etc. You can't ask any returning characters any questions either about what they've been doing. Enter a brand new area? Great, you're not asking anyone questions about this never before seen place.

How does a lost Dwarven thaig survive every single blight? How are their immortal lichs in Neverra? How long has that been a thing? Why haven't they told anyone about the Elven gods or any other knowledge they've accumulated in an immortal lifespan? If immortality is so "easy" why can't Solas just do that to restore the Elves? Why are the Venatori, Tevinter Supremacists, following Elven Gods? Wouldn't that be a major identity crisis? Why would Antaam, who still preach the Qun, follow an Elven God that speaks blasphemy with ever breadth? Sshhhh, no questions. You get what is directly told to you and that's it, no follow-up questions.

Party members do not conflict with each other or interrogate each other's beliefs which is why their banter feels inconsequential and meaningless. Lucanis is a assassin, he kills people for money. The same organization that marked Zevran for death for failing a contract. The same one that took him as a kid and trained him to murder, often brutally, for coin. And yet no one really seems to care. He's just a nice Italian assassin from a nice assassin organization. Who cares. Let's instead talk about cooking, at length. Harding, a devout follower of Andraste, has no qualms with Elven Gods wreaking havoc on known religion. We get one conversation you can tell her to believe what she wants, and that's the end of that debate. Bellara also gets about two whole conversations about the conflict concerning her Gods wreaking havoc, both easily resolved. We don't need to think about any larger implications or doubt her loyalty when the Elven pantheon are seeking to restore her people that have been discriminated against since forever. Emmerich, a necromancer of Neverra, apparently has no religious belief. A codex entry even states that those of the Mourn Watch don't know where the soul goes after death. They don't like to think about it. Buddy, Mortalitasi belief is literally that our souls return to the Void alongside The Maker, but to keep balance a exchange must be wrought with The Fade to allow a spirit to house the now empty vessel. How do you not know the religion and customs of your own faction and land? This man has a whole quest line about funerary rights, yet not ONCE mentions religion and what he believes happens after death?! Sshhhh, no questions. No thinking.

Hey, remember The Fade? Remember how mages go to dream there every night. Remember how The Black City is always visible there? No? Well, we don't either. You won't see The Black City in The Fade. You might see it in The Crossroads in a closed off section, even though it is NOT The Fade. Oh, we're going to have you physically enter The Fade in multiple quest lines and no one will think it's a big deal. No, you still can't see The Black City. Now, The Fade is reduced to nothing more than your generic fantasy spirit world. It has none of the previous rules and lore that bound it before. Demons can bind to non-mages and we won't attempt to explain it. Solas fucks with The Veil and not a single mage notices a change in their dreams when they sleep at night. No biggie.

Lastly, let's return at last to the actual minutiae of writing. I stated at the start the writing isn't bad because of Marvel quippiness, which the series has always had. I was partly lying. Yes, the series has always had anachronistic dialogue. It has had meme language in its own previous titles. But, it was just that, a small joke here and there. For the most part the series actually tried to use it's own sort of "older" speech patterns. I think a perfect example has to do with Taash, she eventually finds her own identity and declares she is proudly "non-binary." Literally stating, "so, I'm non-binary." I have no issue with this sort of inclusivity in Dragon Age, it's what the series is known for. Yet, why does that sound wrong? Simple, it's far too anachronistic. It doesn't belong in Dragon Age. In Inquisition, Dorian let's us know he's gay. But he doesn't say, "I'm gay!" or "I'm a homosexual" those terms would not exist in his world. Instead he says, "I prefer the company of men."

And it's these little subtle changes in writing that makes it feel all the more different. We went from "I once ventured in to The Fade to serve the Old Gods of Tevinter in person. I found there only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. Now I shall return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world gone wrong. Pray that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the Gods. And it was empty."

To: "Well, shit. That can't be good."

So, what do we have when all is said and done? Well, we have a decent generic fantasy action game. An intentional attempt by the developers to remove every edge from the world of Dragon Age in place of a very simple, easy to understand world with not much depth beyond what you see. You don't need to think, just play and have fun. This is beyond turning a MP game into a SP game, which so blatantly obvious in this game. DA2 was developed in 16 months, but is carried strong by its writing. You see, nothing prevented them from just acknowledging their own world they created. It costs very little to write around what already exists. Even if you can't make no assets or redesign the world. Writing is cheap and having characters voice these elements is not as costly as a redesign. No, they chose to remove the edge in every element because this was design intentionally for the masses with easy to understand world and zero depth.

But I wanted to play Dragon Age. I wanted to get into intense religious debates with party members as known lore is completely upended. I wanted to debate Elvish clans deciding to join Solas or the other Gods due to their treatment by human society. I wanted to debate the ethics of necromancy with the Mortalitasi of Neverra's Crypts. I wanted to engage in intense debating with Solas on the ethics of his goal. I wanted to see Tevinter react to a real push for anti-slavery and actually see the slavery in the slave capital of the world. I wanted to butt heads with the Antivan Crows and call them out for the murderers they are. I wanted to see the Black Divine and debate the Chant of Light with them. I wanted to speak to the Archon of Tevinter and see how he felt about the Venatori's past efforts in Inquisition. Hey, what happened to Meredith Reborn in Kirkwall and her idol and Red Templar worshipers? Forget about it.

We got none of this. I got a game that is pretty much disrespectful of its own world. I waited 10 years for this? Why even bother if this is the result? They may as well have just killed every previous character we ever knew, including Solas, offscreen and started anew with this game. Because as a Dragon Age game and sequel, it's terrible and no returning character is how they should be.

And when we get to the ending, that's pretty much what they did. Everything you did in all the past games? Well, that was pointless. Everyone is probably dead. King Alistair. Gaspard. Celene. King Bhelen. The Arl of Redcliffe. The Divine. The Circle of Magi. The Templars. The Seekers. Everything, everyone, and every organization that existed in the South is likely dead and destroyed. And now Dragon Age can become what they wanted, a generic fantasy IP.

But I just wanted to play Dragon Age.

#dragon age #dragon age critical #dragon age spoilers #I finished this game... and now just mourn the end of a fantasy world that was so much and now is nothing

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