#they're no longer JUST in the friend space

[corviddusk]

Transmasculine oppression functions in two methods

The first is by treating him as a weak and confused woman. He is given space in various communities and groups with the sole intent and purpose to manipulate him into detransition and "fix" him. This is when bigots claim to see them as poor "groomed girls" either groomed by older method 2 trans guys and mascs or transfems who are always painted as predatory.

The second is by treating him as a systemic threat to the cissexist patriarchy, which he is. But this leads to false accusations of predation, danger, and violence, which he is not and does not. No longer is he allowed in "women's groups" they can't pretend he's a woman anymore and their own attempts to force detransition failed. He is danger to other fragile "cis women" and must be destroyed at all costs. He is slated as just as much a danger as transfems at this point. Violence is the only way that he is engaged with.

This dual method of oppression is why so called "women's spaces" (social spaces not medical) that allow in trans men are dangerous. They will inevitably brutalize and cast him aside if their attempts to force detransition through social pressures fail. If he rejects the idea he is still a "female" man then he is no longer of use. To try and push young transmascs who need actual genuine friends and real support not from people who show faux concern you must encourage them to find queer spaces or those that see them as the men or mascs that they are.

This is the framework I was operating on being the case when I spoke about the insidious nature of telling trans mascs that they SHOULD be in those "women's spaces" it is directing them to be groomed and abused, then ultimately abandoned or detransitioned.

These spaces are not safe for my brothers and I'm genuinely deeply concerned at how much people overlook the way they actively play a role in radicalizing them. The reason they're kicked out and abandoned is not because of fear of men it is because trans men prove the idea that men are an inherent born in class wrong. It proves man is just as sociological as all other genders and they are scared of that.

"Transandrophobia" theory is based on believing what TERFs are trying to force transmascs into believing. If you see the posts from TERFs talking about transandrophobia you will realize they're celebrating the faulty theory as it relabels transmascs as "female" it involves them in being the ultimate oppressed group of "wombyn". This is purposeful.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

As someone who wants to join the fandom more but it’s too scared to do so, I’m wondering how did you cultivated this community…? It’s so sweet to watch the way you talk to others and helping their works and such. How did you meet like…??? people ??? Like I always see you tagging the artists (ngl I found your blog because of Gomz) and I’d really want to learn, I’ve tried joining previous fandoms and it was always too competitive in some sense, like everyone was busy pushing their works for likes and retweets (maybe it’s more of a twitter thing)

Oh yeah. That's a Twitter thing. Twitter is a cesspit and I only go there for porn. The whole thing is set up to make people feel shite because people that feel shite scroll for longer/look at more adverts. Lock your account, bud. You'll feel a lot better.

But everywhere else? Gratitude and humility. Also, understanding what I wanted from fandom; a small community that hypes each other and encourages new people. Those are my bros (non-gendered). My Cakeshop Bros I found five years ago in fandom; they have slept in my spare bedroom, I've gone drinking, played boardgames, and we laid on the floor in London in a space art installation near Soho being weirdos drunk off our heads. Not just fandom friends now, friends for life.

When I first started posting for CoD, I was dead nervous as I'd been stung in a previous fandom. People took a chance on me as a new person; they reblogged my work with the sweetest tags. They hyped me. They took the time out of their day for a stranger, and they didn't have to. They coulda just read it and moved on. So, I said thank you in their inbox, or in their DMs. We started talking more, I was a bit weird and they vibed back. They are also good people. Genuinely. You mentioned Gomz; literally, so kind, so sweet. Deserves the world.

When I can, I make sure I hype them back; I wish I could do more but my job is absolute pig in terms of time. It's mock season (now over, woohoo) so I have a backlog of fics to catch up on - Nekro, Mikey, T, Oliv, Nikkie, Hexx, Gomz (who I deffo know have written), but there are probably more! I'll set a few hours aside over half term with a beer and crack on.

Also, I guarantee everyone is as nervous as you are. Everyone gets imposter syndrome. And also, everyone gets jealous. Jealousy is a natural human emotion that you need to process into something productive. "I'm jealous" = "this person is really fucking good, has worked hard, I'm gonna encourage them and learn from them because they clearly know their shit". Reframing rather than ignoring or letting it fester. They're just people after all and probably shitting themselves as much as I was.

I also guarantee you I am not everyone's cup of tea. And that's ok. Letting go of the burning desire to be liked by all, sometimes at the expense of my own bloody happiness and seeing it as a personal failing if I wasn't, was probably one of the most powerful things I did for myself over the last five years. The only thing I care about in regards to others is if I acted with integrity and kindness (not necessarily niceness). That's all I can control.

Sorry, mate. That came off as a bit of a rant! But uh, don't be scared. Keep reaching out. Be feral.

[ice-and-starlight]

And! Important note here!

If you do want to write an entire essay on why you don't like a ship, godspeed, have fun (or have a cathartic time, I guess), but don't post it in that ship's tag.

I say this as someone who has both 1) vented my spleen about a thing in fandom I didn't like in an inappropriate place and 2) had a fantastic time 'yes and'ing with friends about a thing in fandom I abhor.

Option one makes you the asshole. Don't do it. Don't go into the specific tag of the thing you don't like and spew hate. It's a bad time for everyone, and you will feel shitty about it once the self-righteous vitriol wears off. And if someone you follow posts a thing without the tag, scroll past (if it's frequent, unfollow them; curate your fandom experience responsibly).

Option two is fun. You hate this thing? Enough to need to burble up all that awful feeling out into the world so it's not festering inside you any longer? Do it! Write that essay! Examine your thought process, explain in detail what it is that gets your back up, pick at all the flaws you can find until the whole thing unravels in your hands.

And if you really must share it, we have #anti [thing] tags. I've used them, and they serve (like #[thing] tags) just as much as a warning as an advertisement. People who like the thing won't go there unless they're looking for a fight (in which case, they're the asshole).

You are allowed to not like the thing! You are allowed to not like it just as vocally as other people like it.

But you have to remember that this is a shared space, and the polite thing to do here in fandom is tag your shit appropriately so that people who don't want to see it don't have to.

Fandoms these days seem just crazy. It's like people in them have gone crazy. I mean seriously.

Vander and Silco is a ship of two adult men who are brothers in arms (and who are basically lovers in that alternate universe), but even here people manage to get offended by this harmless ship and say that shipping Vander and Silco is like shipping Silco and Jinx… and I honestly don't know what to say about those who have such ideas in their heads. I thought that something like this would never happen in the Arcane fandom, but it turns out I was so wrong.

No, seriously, this obsession with so called "family dynamics" is sometimes terrifying.

We are shipping adult fictional men, and shipping them literally doesn't hurt anyone too, but people still manage to get offended and surprised by the fact that there are those who see them as a couple. And it's getting to be annoying.

I mean, shouldn't people by now be used to the fact that if there are two characters on a show with incredible chemistry, someone is going to ship them anyway? And that that's totally okay?

[lettersiarrange]

Has time always moved this fast? I'm genuinely asking. In 200 years we went from Bridgerton to AI. The everyday lives of people in each of these eras feel like universes apart. I'm no historian, but it seems like the everyday lives of people between 1500 and 1700 weren't that different.

Have humans throughout time immemorial reflected on life 30 years ago, 100 years ago and commented on how vastly different it was? It feels like we're running at a breakneck pace in the modern era. The It Gets Better project was founded in 2010 because gay people were so universally ostracized that lgbt teen suicide rates were off the charts. And while we're still pretty far from full LGBT equality, openly having a problem with gay people existing is a pretty fringe opinion now that's fairly universally frowned upon, even in the southern US.

I'm pretty sure the first time a woman wore pants in congress was in the 90s.

Culturally, technologically, resource-wise, it feels like every 5 years we leap 5 decades forward. Is it just our own preoccupation with the era we live in that makes this moment feel so significant? Or are we actually moving as quickly as it feels?

I know people have always laughed at the grandpa's who complain "when I was your age...", but has the gap ever been this wide? Or is there truly something special about now.

[littol-bun]

i love being an age regressor ૮ᴖﻌᴖა ♡⁠ tonight it feels very affirming and comforting. I've kind of always had to look out for myself and be my biggest supporter, and there are a lot of strange ways this feels like a second chilhood at times.

like i regress to being younger, but I'm also a girl now in a completely different place with completely different circumstances/social circles etc. yk?

but when i feel rly small and my reality feels so big, it makes me happy that older me is there for me to make the important decisions and guide us there :3 it's like i am holding my hand through this, i haven't had an adult rly look out for me like this and it's so nice to have one now!!

i don't have to be scared of big changes, I'm doing good and I'm here for me and i can take it easy. i have someone who is helping me ♡⁠ i have someone who is keeping me safe. they work hard so i can be little ^.^ thanks big sis hehe ✌🏾

ouggghh im not little anymore but (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠) ♡⁠ yeah. when i am little i can still like.. function as an adult n talk to ppl n stuff. but it's also like, well like i said before ig 0:

like im smaller but different‚ subtly. still me‚ but someone else since I'm like.. a teen?? that i never was. my childhood was nothing like my adulthood so this rly is a whole new thing little me has needed to learn 2 navigate emotionally/mentally.

but as i become more aware of when I'm in a little headspace and not, the difference in perception stands out to me a lot more. i can't articulate it very well... oughh. this is giving me very specific questions, but on that note — i am happy to feel so safe and looked out for when I'm little 😌💕 i used to feel scared and helpless but it's different now. we're doing this together 👩🏽‍🤝‍👩🏾 i got ya lil sis

[montanamp3]

tatimaxxing (something big just happened to me but i can't talk about it on this blog because ive posted face)

[devotioncrater]

.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

once again in my rickard and mortyanne era. if you couldn't tell

[zanmor]

We are well beyond canary in the coalmine warning levels with the way trans people and particularly trans women are treated on this site.

Maybe you've heard the metaphor of allowing wolves and sheep to share the same space, welcoming everyone. You end up with just wolves because allowing them in that space makes it unsafe for any sheep. Or the story about how a nazi goes into a dive bar and is refused service. The bartender then explains to someone else at the bar that if you serve them once they tell their friends and before you know it you're the nazi bar they all go to and normal customers don't feel safe.

Terfs and other bigots are seeing these targeted harassment campaigns succeed against trans women and rejoicing. They see Tumblr ban them and officially stand by those decisions as endorsement for their harassment. It's a sign to bigots across the internet that Tumblr is a good place for them.

And what's more is that a lot of us probably don't realize just how much trans women contribute to Tumblr. The women banned recently were sources of site-wide memes and posts I wasn't even aware originated from them.any years old memes and references can be traced back to trans women on this site.

How many of these folks have to be removed before this is no longer a site you want to be a part of it? Sure you cultivate your own experience, but you can't follow or interact with people who aren't here. And if I wanted to interact with the nazis and terfs I'd go to reddit.

I encourage everyone to reblog this. Trans women shouldn't have to be the only ones speaking out against the bigotry they're experiencing. They shouldn't be the only ones risking their blogs being nuked by staff. We have to stand with them.

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

every now and then I am reminded that jesus christ my attachment style is extremely disordered. I'm like if anxious attachment was being hidden by avoidant attachment. It's not even like... normal avoidant attachment? despite that being what I largely identify with. Because I talk to other people with avoidant attachment styles and I'm like ??? bruh what the fuck are you talking about 'I don't need other people' everyone needs other people.

[strangerstilinski]

smoke me out

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀��𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends? [ 7.4k ]

𝗰𝘄: friends to lovers, dubcon bc they're high, reader with a vagina & breasts, drug use (weed), smoking & shotgunning, pathetic attempts at dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, and goofy eddie (always)

𝗮/𝗻: the stoner in me came out at the beginning, ngl. this is just a horny culmination of my need to shotgun with eddie and also to rub his sweaty body with my own. and yes, that one part is inspired by the gifs of the hoard scene featuring joe's tight little ass grinding away.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

It's just you and Eddie today.

You're propped up against the headboard side by side, a nest of pillows providing you both with a cushion from the uncomfortable framework behind your bed. The muted sound of James Hetfield's voice floating through your stereo speakers over a heavy clash of drums and guitar has your head bobbing in time with the beat. Eddie has long-since gone from shredding on air guitar to intently staring at the way his own ringed fingers bend toward his palm every time the pitch shifts incrementally, mentally contemplating the chord changes by ear. 

Despite the windows thrown open on either side of the room, your small apartment reeks of smoke and weed. The humid Indiana summer air filtering through the curtains is not nearly strong enough to properly air out the cramped space. It's one of those wonderfully warm days — peak summertime. Not overly hot, but enough to have your skin prickling with heat beneath a tank top and cotton shorts. 

Eddie is still lounging in a threadbare pair of checkered pajama pants and a cutoff tee, the top half of his hair tied back in a haphazard bun to lessen the weight of the thick curls sticking to his neck. 

Eddie is prone to complaining when it's hot. Or when it's cold. And also when it's rainy. Or windy. 

Point is, you're not sure why he's yet to complain about the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but Eddie seems content as ever. It could have something to do with the little glass pipe the two of you have been passing back and forth all afternoon. The bowl on the end had been packed tight, more than enough weed to have both of you thoroughly stoned, well before it's even finished.

The ceiling fan is stirring up the faintest breeze. You've burned yourself thrice on a rogue, billowing flame while trying to light up. The circulating air keeps pushing an errant dark curl down over Eddie's face every time he dips his head to take a hit.. You've combed it back for him four times, already—God forbid he set his hair on fire. Again. You're not sure he's even noticed the way your hand lingers on that smooth strip of skin behind his ear just a little longer each time.

But you can't help it, not with the way everything's gone a little foggy at the edges. Your eyes seem to process your surroundings in near slow-motion, all while the world shines with a barely-perceptible gleam. The last twenty minutes the two of you have spent smoking have done wonders to soften the world around you. Your head is full of air in that familiarly pleasant way that leaves you feeling a bit like you might float away at any second. Like a balloon in the sky. And with the added bonus of Eddie by your side, you're entirely relaxed. Contented.  

Weak beneath the lazy weight of your high pressing in on you, you suddenly flop your weight down sideways across the bed, your head landing over Eddie's thighs. You blink slow up at him, hazy gaze focusing on the underside of Eddie's face while he brings his bony knees up from the mattress to cage you a little closer to his chest. The angle would be outrageous were you looking up at anyone else, you're sure, but Eddie..

He's so pretty.

All rogue-ish boy. Unkempt and wild, but still entirely beautiful.

You can't help the way your hand finds its way up, up, up. Your fingertips dancing across the barely-there five o'clock shadow on the edge of his jaw. You trace the hard line all the way from his chin to his ear, his stubble scratchy and wholly soothing when you lightly scrape your nails against the grain of it.

Eddie, on the other hand, has found himself entirely focused on the way gravity has moved your breasts in your new position below him. The awkward angle has carried them up and out, bra-less and soft and hypnotizing. They shift just a little every time your hand moves across his face. The tank top you've chosen to wear today is thin, indecently so, in his opinion. His brown eyes have been glued to the obvious outline of your nipples beneath the fabric since the moment you'd greeted him at the door, and his ogling has only gotten less subtle as his high settled in. He risks another longing glance down past your collar bones, reddened eyes dragging over the shape of your puffy nipples hidden underneath.

You're thumbing softly at the coarse hairs just under his chin when Eddie gives in to impulse and  purses his lips to blow a cool breath of air over your neck and chest. You can't help but giggle as your skin reacts, goosebumps spreading down your arms, and unbeknownst to you, your nipples tightening into semi-hard peaks beneath your top.

They're not the only things that are suddenly semi-hard. 

Eddie smacks his lips and swallows the drool that he's embarrassed to admit has pooled beneath his tongue. His ring-clad knuckles brush the side of your breast as he reaches to take the forgotten bowl from the blankets. 

He attempts to gather himself as he takes another hit. He holds it for a count of five and then exhales a cloud of smoke whilst urging himself to imagine something utterly repulsive.. His uncle in the shower, roadkill, the way his balls itch uncomfortably after he plays a gig at The Hideout in too-tight jeans — anything that might keep him from popping an unwanted boner while you've got your pretty, unassuming head resting in his lap.

Your fingers are now trailing lightly over the light freckles dotting the bridge of Eddie's nose. His skin is a little pink from yesterday's sun, despite the number of times you'd physically dragged him from Steve's pool to apply sunscreen to his steadily-reddening cheeks. The previous day outside has Eddie's barely-there freckles appearing far more visible than usual, speckled along the round tip of his nose, his cheeks, even the crinkles around his eyes. You think they make him look even more handsome, boyish perhaps, but handsome all the same.

Through the warm fog in your brain, you find yourself smiling up at him. A dopey grin on your face as you poke at the soft apples of his cheeks — Like he's your own personal plaything. Your heart ticks excitedly when the corner of Eddie's lips quirk up at you in response, his pupils blown wide, surrounded by a thin ring of molten chocolate. His teeth flash with his sweet little chuckle of amusement, cheeks dimpling beneath the sparsest area of his stubble.

“You've got freckles,” You comment quietly. “They're cute.” You smack your lips once, mouth dry with dehydration, “I like 'em.. 'nd your stubble, too. Feels nice.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, stoned and more than a bit flattered under the weight of your attention. His chest puffs up a little proudly, his words flowing without any real thought behind them, “Made it all myself.. 'S hard work.. But, uh, y'know. Someone's gotta do it.”

He slips his lighter between two of his fingers and holds the bowl off to the side so that he can drag the fingers of his free hand softly, delicately, over your hair where it's fanned out over his lap. He doesn't want to mess it up, especially doesn't want one of his rings to get caught and pull. But it looks so soft, and through the haze, he can't fight the impulse to simply.. touch. So gently. 

His attention seems intently focused on the careful motions of his fingers along your hair, and you take advantage of his distraction by finally allowing your gaze to drop to his mouth. Eddie keeps slowly rolling and biting his lips between his teeth. Canines dig into the flesh before he's scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, only to scrape his teeth over them again in a never-ending loop. You doubt he's even aware he's doing it but it's beginning to make his lips swell, the skin darkening to a brighter shade of pink from the abuse.

All at once, your trance is broken when his tongue pokes out to wet his smoke-dry lips. Your mind flashes suddenly with an idea. 

The absence of both the Hellfire crew and your other friends was truly a rarity. You hardly ever got to be alone with Eddie like this. You'd tried to ask him out once upon a time- No, not just once. Twice. Twice you'd asked him on a date — both of which had somehow ended in group excursions rather than romantic one-on-one time, how it had happened two separate times, you still weren't sure — and at this point you'd given up entirely. Because maybe it just wasn't meant to be. It was okay, really, you'd almost grown content in your longing. 

But, the way Eddie's lips shone lightly after his tongue stroked over them.. It had your brain reeling with possibility. If you were ever going to get his mouth on yours in private, even just for a fleeting moment, it didn't seem possible that an opportunity so seamless would ever present itself again.

It was worth a shot.

“I want another hit.” You tell him, licking at your own lips as brown eyes refocus on your face.

“M'kay, well, you're prob'ly gonna need to sit up for that, sweets,” Eddie points out, entirely unaware of the way your tummy always swoops when the thoughtless pet name falls from his lips. “Unless you were really lookin' t'get a face full'a ash.. In which case, you can definitely keep layin-” A burst of air leaves his nose with a laugh of surprise, repeating his own words to himself with a sweetly boyish giggle, “Sounds like ass. Face full'a ass. Now, that I'd like-”

Normally you'd join in on the joke. Poke a little fun at him for saying such a thing. Freak. You'd say it fondly, with an eye roll to go with it, maybe you'd throw in a half-serious offer involving his face and your backside- But you don't say any of those things. You can't. You're in the middle making the not-so-carefully crafted scene in your head a reality — And, can't he see that? Why is he trying to distract you? 

“Ash. Riiight, uh huh. Well,” You pause, feign innocence before your next words. “Maybe.. Maybe you could shotgun it to me n' that way I can stay right here?” You suggest cautiously, before adding as an afterthought, “If you want, I mean.” 

Any amusement is immediately stripped from Eddie's expression. He spends a few achingly long seconds blinking down at you with heavy eyelids, gaze hooded and distant. His weed-hazy brain takes a moment to actually process your words, but then, just as suddenly as he'd zoned out, he's nodding and bringing the glass pipe back up to his lips, one hand cupped around the end to shield the flame from the path of the ceiling fan.

The lighter clicks and swishes quietly as he lights up. He lowers the bowl after a long second, ringed hand dipping beneath your head and guiding you oh-so gently to arch your neck upward, until he can lean down and press his mouth down softly against yours. 

That first soft brush of his lips has your whole body thrumming. Butterflies begin a rampage in your stomach, so much so that you have to actively remind yourself to part your lips beneath his.

He presses down just a bit more, lips squishing solidly to your own parted ones and sending your heart racing dangerously, but then he's exhaling the smoke into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in as it comes, letting the warmth of it flow from his body and into your own.

He watches you intently as he moves to pull back and sit upright again. Watches the way you seal your mouth shut, lips rolling between your teeth while your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks. You allow the smoke to simply sit in your lungs for a long moment before relaxing your chest and exhaling through your nose, releasing the diluted cloud up into the air between you. 

Eddie blinks down at you with heavy lids. There's a long moment of silence between you. It's a palpable thing — not quite awkward or tense, but brimming with an unexpected energy that neither one of you can quite decipher. It's charged. Something like static electricity, or the tether between two magnets of an opposite charge. It nearly tingles in the breadth of space between you.

Eddie feels it. He wonders if you feel it too.

“D'you want another hit?” He asks after a minute, his voice scratchy.

You merely nod your head, not trusting your own voice, and the movement has you refocusing suddenly on the soft press of his calloused fingers where they linger against the nape of your neck. You watch with bated breath as Eddie brings the glass pipe in his hand back to his lips again, letting his gentle grip fall from the top of your spine for just a moment so that he can flick the flame of the lighter over the tiny pocket at the end of the pipe once again. 

Eddie drops the items in his hands to your bedside table carelessly once he's gotten a good lungful of smoke. He leans down in a faster movement this time than he had done before, his hand dipping back beneath your head in a flash to bring your mouths together again.

His lips are dry against your own, but so soft. You're not sure if it's the high or simply Eddie, but the barely-there scratch of stubble over his upper lip is delicious. It feels so good it makes you a little lightheaded. 

Your mouth slips open, inhaling as he exhales. You feel the warmth of the smoke entering your mouth, taste the bitterness of it on your tongue as the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

You're preparing to let your craned neck fall back to his lap, to close your lips in an effort to keep the smoke inside of your lungs — but then Eddie is tightening his grip on the back of your head incrementally, and instead of pulling back, he slots your lips together more firmly. Your heart skips in surprise and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. Your brain seems to white out for a moment, unable to focus on anything that isn't Eddie's soft lips moving tentatively against your own. 

A thin cloud of smoke escapes into the air around you as your mouths begin to move together in synchrony. You can't hold back a soft gasp of surprise when Eddie's tongue swipes warmly across the seam of your lips. Your heart pounds, your mouth opening beneath his again without hesitation. 

The kiss that follows is a frenzied rush of lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger blossoms in the pit of your stomach. But it somehow manages to feel so languid, so sensual beneath the relaxed fogginess of your high. 

Your back arches, shoulders lifting from Eddie's thigh to meet him more than halfway. The movement prompts his hands to find your hips and Eddie is tugging you upright in a flash. Suddenly you're wedged between his legs, practically in his lap. Your knees curling around his waist as he leans farther into your space, chasing your warmth until barely any space exists between you. 

Your hands slide idly along his body in a slow trail. Each scrape against your palms feels divine. Every inch of him feels like silk under your fingers. The smooth, worn cotton of his tshirt. The tight ringlets of curls at the nape of his neck, a little damp with sweat. The soft give of warm muscle beneath your eager hands on his chest, his arms, his hips. You attempt to memorize every inch of him, your limbs seemingly moving of their own accord, touch-hungry and weightless all at once. 

He's so warm and- God, you want to be inside of him. You think you might want to bury yourself beneath his skin and make a home there. He smells like heaven, like sweat and weed and masculine body wash. Your fingertips drag leisurely along the length of his inked arms, inching slow back toward his neck like you have all the time in the world to explore every inch of his body. 

Your touch is scorching across his skin, overwhelming and seemingly everywhere at once but simultaneously not enough. It's like all of his wildest dreams have come to life, and Eddie can't fucking believe that this is happening. That you're practically in his lap, your tongue in his mouth, legs draped around his waist, hands tucked beneath the gaping sleeves of his muscle tee to roam freely and grope at the exposed skin of his hips.

Eddie's head cranes just a bit to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss, licking his way deeper. His own arms curl around your waist, tightening at the curve of your spine to tug your body flush against his. The action has a needy noise pushing its way into his mouth as your tongues explore one another with warm, wet licks. He groans at a particularly slow curl of your tongue, he swears he feels it in his fucking balls. 

He's so turned on he thinks his dick might explode. Eddie changes your position in another quick movement, holding you flush to his chest before he's directing you to lie back against the mattress and slotting himself right there  between your thighs. 

Despite the way your head has gone a little fuzzy from lack of oxygen, you can't find it in yourself to pull away from him. All you can do is slide your hands from Eddie's shoulders and up into his hair. Tingles shoot from your fingertips as they slide into his frizzy curls, yanking some of them free from his bun just to feel the way they tangle around your fingers. A hot flush of arousal pulses in your cunt at the satisfied noise that Eddie lets out when you tug lightly, and that noise alone has you suddenly frantic. 

You can't get enough of him; his sounds, his taste, the press of his warm body between your thighs.  

The hand he isn't using to support himself against the mattress rubs along your waist of its own accord, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to brush featherlight over your skin. You swear sparks erupt in his wake. 

You pull back just enough to murmur his name desperately against his lips, but the syllables are barely out before you're licking into his mouth again with unbridled hunger. Eddie's groan meets your ears in response to your weak plea — what you're begging for, you're not quite sure, but then his hips drop against yours with a slow roll and that- 

Oh, that is exactly what you needed.

You can't help the soft whimper that falls into his mouth. The warm line of his half-hard cock pressing against your cunt through the thin barrier of your pajama bottoms has you dizzy. Eddie grinds hips against yours in another slow roll, clothed erection pressing soft into your cunt and prompting the seam on your shorts to nudge at your clit. You both groan in sync, parted lips barely brushing through the breathless sounds.

You also can't help the way you lift your hips in time with each grind of his length against you. The warm weight of his balls squishes against the fabric of your shorts every time his pelvis drags over your own. The thin cotton feels far too thick of a barrier currently between you and his cock. 

Ringed fingers sneak up a little farther beneath your shirt, his hand tightening over your naked breast, and you keen at the feeling. He alternates between brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple and covering the area with his palm to give it a soft squeeze. His lips fall slack against your own, too busy focussing on the way his fingers release and then grope again and again, the kind of distracted intrigue that could only be a result of his high.

A soft whine falls from your lips after a minute of putting up with his lazy fondling. You tug at the hair between your fingers again and nip encouragingly at his lips in a silent plea for a kiss. His mouth finally resumes moving against your own, and you gratefully allow him to direct the kiss. You give him full control of the pace, which turns out to be a give and take of desperate licks into your mouth followed by gentle caresses of his spit-slick lips against your own. Lips smack each time you part, tongues sliding together wetly, heaving breaths rush in and out of your noses as you both attempt to pull as much oxygen in as humanly possible in an effort to not break apart.  

Your fingers find the knob of his spine, and you tug on the collar at the back of his shirt in silent question. Eddie answers by pushing back up on his knees to yank the fabric over his head in a quick movement. His tattooed chest heaves with slightly labored breaths and you watch him with rapt attention, your eyes drawn to the tiny patch of hair nestled between his pecs and lightly dusted around his nipples. Then your focus drops to the thicker trail that leads down into the waistband of his pants. The pale skin beneath the hair glistens with sweat, and good God you want to taste it-

But you're only granted a few seconds to ogle his torso before Eddie is dipping back down to catch your lips with his, your mouths immediately separating just enough that he can strip you of your own top. 

As soon as your naked chest is exposed to him, Eddie is dragging his lips down your body in a slow trail. He pauses for a moment to kiss a spot just below your ear, his voice raspy when he speaks, “You good? This alright?” He checks quietly. 

You reach up to tangle a hand in his hair again, a breathless sigh leaving your lips as you feel the warmth of his mouth pressing against your neck, “Good, yeah. Very, very alright.” 

Eddie wastes no time, his lips trailing lower. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to your exposed breasts, relishing in the way you react to his mouth, the way your spine arches up from the mattress at the attention. 

“Jesus H. Christ. 's incredible,” Eddie mumbles, his words slurred against your chest as he bites and sucks at the skin on the side of your breast. His head has gone hazy with lust, his fingers slipping beneath your body to grab a desperate fistful of your ass, “Hand to God. I swear, I've never fuckin' seen more perfect-”

You interrupt the filth spewing from his mouth with an entirely unintentional moan, slightly overwhelmed by the influx of sensations. His praise in your ears. The feeling of his fingertips sinking into the plush of your ass. The prominent bulge in his bottoms dragging against you. 

Eddie curses under his breath, taking your nipple into his mouth and biting down softly before immediately soothing his tongue over it in apology.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. Sweetly faded and hazy at the edges, but somehow, each touch and sound between the two of you feels heightened — Magnified and all that more intense. As if your high has somehow managed to mute everything on earth except for Eddie. 

You release his hair in favor of sliding your hands down his back to grope the globes of his ass over his pajama bottoms while his hips continue to rock forward in a dizzying rhythm. A knead to the flesh there has Eddie whining sinfully against your tongue and your pussy fucking throbs in response.

"Baby," Eddie pants into your mouth, his voice nearly cracking with need, "Take 'em off, please- Baby? c'n we-?"

He doesn't finish the question but you nod, nose brushing against his as your hands slip underneath the waistband of his pants. Your fingers are very nearly trembling while you shove the fabric down below the curve of his ass. 

You feel the moment that his cock springs free and you immediately have to crane your neck down to take a peek — The urge to see him is too strong. And God is it a glorious sight. 

Flushed red at the tip and achingly hard— Jesus it's thick, gloriously thick. His pubes are dark and untamed around the base, hiding just how big he truly is. It's the most gorgeous cock you've ever fucking seen and it's bumping softly against the crotch of your shorts, wetting the fabric with smeared pre-cum that Eddie's fucking leaked over the head. He's wet with need, same as you, and the thought makes you feel fucking insane. 

Which means you ogle perhaps longer than you should. 

A needy grumble rises in Eddie's throat that has you snapping out of it suddenly and bringing a hand up into the narrow space between your faces. It takes a moment with the dryness of smoke lingering on your tongue, but you manage to gather enough spit to lick a wet stripe up your palm and fingers, and then you're reaching down to curl your fingers around him. 

Half-naked is practically Eddie's default state when he's stoned or drunk, you've drooled over just the outline of him in his underwear more times than you can count, but you're still somehow surprised by the sheer size of him in your hand. The weight of him. Long and curved just a little to the right — so silky and so soft under the slippery glide of your fist. You work your hand slow over him, rewarded with a beautiful little groan of thanks from the man above you, the sound of it guttural as you begin to jerk him with slick strokes. 

“Ohhh my god, that- that's, j-jesus-” His voice fucking cracks. 

Eddie's hips jump as he fucks into your fist. His eyes roll back, a little delirious just from the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around him. You switch from long strokes in favor of shorter ones where you can focus your attention on his tip, your thumb swiping back and forth over the head of his cock with each flick of your wrist. Eddie doesn't even recognize the sounds leaving his mouth. The combination of his high and the wet glide of your hand is too maddening to care. 

You make your own small noise of amazement that has Eddie coming back to himself suddenly. He yanks your shorts down your thighs with an impatient huff, pulling away from you just long enough to discard the last of both of your clothing before he's caging you back against the mattress once again. And then his lips are making their way to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly between these oh-so pretty little groans against your throat, his hips bucking restlessly into your own all the while. 

You give an eager cant of your hips, feet pressing into the mattress until the tip of Eddie's cock brushes the seam of your cunt. Eddie makes another sweet little noise of surprise that has you draping an arm around his neck, your face pressing into his shoulder as you repeat the movement with intention. 

You want him so bad your pussy fucking aches. 

“Ed, can we, please?” You whisper desperately into his skin. 

The question is barely out before he's nodding against your throat, bracing his knees and lining himself up with your hole. His hips push forward until just the tip of his cock presses into the wet heat of your cunt, but good lord-

He's so big. It feels a bit like he's splitting you right down the middle, but it's so good. He rocks his hips forward slowly, each little push stretching you wider than you thought possible. Every time you think he can't possibly have more to give you, he slips in a little deeper. He reaches so far inside of you that your eyes roll back, a long, drawn-out moan tearing past your lips at the slow stretch, the dull fullness behind your navel that you can nearly feel in your throat. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine breathlessly, hands scrambling for purchase along his skin. Your nails bite into the sweat-slick muscles of his back before slipping lower still. You find the dimples at the base of his spine, nails raking over the pale white skin of his hips and ass. Your whole body goes lax underneath him as the wiry bush of his pubes finally meets your own. 

The noise Eddie releases into the curve of your shoulder borders on a whimper, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks his hips forward again and again. His weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, his cock grinding desperately against the absolute deepest parts of you. He gasps with each nudge of your cervix against the head of his cock, practically humping you through the haze of his high as he tries to give you time to adjust to his size. 

“Y'good?” Eddie pants into your neck, words slurred together with need. He feels half a second from fucking begging when your legs spread further, your thighs falling back toward the mattress and allowing him even deeper and holy fucking shit. “Ohh, c'n I move?” He’s all but whining now, “Please. God, please can I-” 

“Uh huh, 'm good, 'm good, I-” Your assurances cut off with a wail when he begins to pull back and drive in again with a sharp snap of his hips. Your fingers tighten where his hairy thighs meet his ass, nails biting into taut muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Ohmygod.” You whine, eyes glazing over with the heat that pools behind your navel with each thrust.

“Y'feel so good.” Eddie mumbles, slack mouth pressed to the sensitive spot below your ear. 

He pushes up on his elbows, but only enough that you can gape up at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed with just how fucking good he feels. 

“Fuucck, y're pretty,” Eddie groans between deep thrusts, his words drawing a moan from your lips. He brings one hand to your cheek, thumb pushing into the plush cushion of your swollen lips before he's covering them with his own in a messy kiss, “Y're so hot. So. fucking. perfect.” 

His words are spoken quietly against your lips between thrusts, his nose squishing your own in close proximity, and you draw him back down to your mouth in a hungry kiss, teeth clashing. 

The pace Eddie has set is intoxicating, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips forward to fill you up again with deep thrusts. Your moans are loud, wanton and uncontrollable under the haze of your high, only somewhat muffled by Eddie's mouth covering yours. 

In a frenzy, you find yourself kissing away the sweat beading on his upper lip. You lave your tongue softly over the light prickle of stubble at his cupid’s bow, but you're only granted a moment to relish in the scratch of it before Eddie is nosing at your cheek and urging you back into a scorching, albeit distracted, kiss. His fingers wrap around your upper thigh to hitch your leg a little higher on his hip, rocking his hips forward again and managing to hit impossibly deeper inside of you. He drives into that spongey spot behind your navel and you writhe-

“Oh-” You gasp into his mouth in surprise, head gone fuzzy as he continues fucking your at the new angle, “Eddie!  I, fuck-” 

He responds with a groan. His lips leave yours to forge a trail of biting kisses over your skin. He wants to kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could kiss every inch of your skin and still keep fucking you. You're weak to do anything but lie there and take it and it makes Eddie feel dizzy with power. Your arms curl around his shoulders again, head thrown back against the bed in ecstasy. 

Eddie's mouth is seemingly everywhere, lips sucking at the underside of your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbones and throat, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. Each new sensation sends another spark of arousal down your spine, sends your brain farther into the clouds. 

It’s almost too much. It has you tightening your thighs around his hips and rolling sideways over the bed to switch positions, his cock slipping free as you find yourself straddling his waist with only a slight wobble from the momentum. Eddie makes a quiet noise of surprise and petulance, but it melts into a grateful, high-keening moan when you sink back down onto him. Your hips press flush to his as you set a new, slower rhythm of your own making. 

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie whines in amazement, hands tracing over the curve of your waist and breasts as you rock back and forth onto him, “Shit. You look so good like this.” His praise comes out through heaving breaths.

You rest one hand supportively over the sparse hair at the center of his chest, the fingers of your other hand trailing up the skin of his arm until you can tangle your hands together against the mattress. You grind your hips down harder, deeper, and Eddie groans, his hips bucking up unconsciously to meet you halfway. 

Your forearms fall on either side of his head. Your weight pressing down against his chest has Eddie immediately fisting your ass and thighs in a bruising grip to help guide your movements. You lean down to bury your face in his neck as you slide back and forth along his length in a slow rhythm, your legs already aching with exertion even with the help of his strong arms.

The loud slapping of skin meeting skin every time the backs of your thighs meet his own rings loudly in your ears. Your staggered breathing falls against his lightly stubbled jaw, lips leaving distracted kisses in apology for the way your hot breath fans out against his already sweaty neck. 

“God, Eds,” You moan into his skin, sucking a mark against his throat while he uses his tight grip on your hips to fuck you down onto himself, “You feel. So f-fucking good-” 

You let out a yelp as Eddie twists your bodies again with a grunt, and suddenly his body above yours once more, his hand on your shoulder as he sinks back inside of you.

“Need it faster. Harder.” He pants, “That okay?” 

You nod, head rubbing against the mattress, “Yes. Please, yeah-” 

Eddie trails his fingers down the back of your thigh and guides you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s fucking into you in quick, punishing thrusts. Your moans only increase in volume at the change of pace, your whole body seemingly flushed with heat. Your hands scrape desperately over Eddie's back as he pounds into you, nails cutting into pale skin. 

“Shit,” Eddie groans, his forehead dropping down against yours in an unexpectedly tender movement, though it does little to take away from the sound of your bedframe creaking, the wet squelch every time he drives back into you. “God, 're you close?” He asks desperately.

“Uh-huh.” You confirm immediately, brain hazy and muscles tensing with each hard thrust that brings you closer and closer to your peak. 

Eddie's nose rubs soft along your cheekbone as he nods, joining your mouths in a kiss that's more breath and tongue than anything else. You struggle to focus on moving your mouth against his as your orgasm begins to creep into the corners of your vision. Eddie's weight drops down onto one elbow to allow him the stability to reach in between you. His hand settles over your pelvis, his fingers swiping messy over your clit as his quick thrusts grow shakier. 

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against your lips, “C'mon, I really-” He's cut off by the groan that rumbles up his throat when you pulse around him, the sound entirely animalistic. “Goddd. N-need you t' fuckin' cum, baby, please.” 

His voice has gone husky with arousal and exertion, the sound has your eyes rolling back. It only takes a handful more thrusts like that, with the help of his fingertips tracing light circles over your clit. Your whole body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you, legs clamping around his hips. You whine brokenly in his mouth, a sharp gasp immediately following as you scrape your fingers down his shoulders, your whole body shaking as you come undone around him. 

The increased tightness of your muscles spurs on Eddie’s own orgasm within a few thrusts, and then he's following you over the edge. He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a whine, hips stuttering twice before burying deep. His weight crushes you to the mattress, your back arching at the warmth of his release filling you. Your eyes water with the strength of your orgasm, Eddie's hips unconsciously grinding into your own as he rides out his own, whimpering into your ear with the aftershocks. 

You both remain unmoving for a long minute, sweaty chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath and come back to yourself. You card gently through Eddie's sweaty hair, his curls having long since broken free from the hair tie that had once held them back from his face. You fingers trail thoughtlessly through the damp tresses while Eddie's hot breath fans out over your neck. His dick twitches inside you when your fingertips scrape softly against his scalp and you struggle to bite back a quiet laugh of amusement. Your muscles tense even with the smothered laugh, and Eddie groans as your cunt pulses around him. 

He huffs when he catches the look on your face, entirely dramatic as he begins to roll away, but he only maintains that feigned annoyance for about half a second before he's cackling madly and dragging you into his chest. He nips sharply at your shoulder as he tugs you into his sweaty chest and buries his face in your hair, fingers beginning to trace soft shapes over the skin of your hip. 

“You feelin' okay?” He murmurs after a moment. 

“Yeah,” You confirm with a sigh, already relaxing into his touch. Your brain is pleasantly dulled from the combination of the lingering high and your orgasm. “Yeah, 'm great.” 

“Oh, same, yeah. Super great. I just, uh-” Eddie pauses and you find yourself focussing on the gentle caress of his fingers along your skin, “I wanted to check, y'know.. Make sure you weren't havin' any.. I dunno, just, regrets-”

You're readjusting in a flash so that you can look at him directly, your head settling onto his bicep as your eyes flick between his, “I don't. Regret it, I mean.” 

It feels much too serious of a conversation to be having considering how deliriously high you currently feel, the previous strenuous activity did little to clear your head, but you mean it with every fiber of your being. You've been hung up on Eddie for what feels like forever now, the thought of him outright regretting the events of the last hour- It has you feeling sick, stomach sinking and twisting and souring all at once.

Eddie's throat bobs as he swallows, “Just, I mean.. Y're real stoned and- Shit. I, fuck. I probably shouldn't've-”

“Eddie,” You cut him off, feeling desperate with the need to reassure him, “You smoked just as much as I did—probably more. I-I wanted this. I wanted it, like, really bad. Unless..” Your heart drops, “Do.. Do you regret-?”

“No!” Eddie disagrees immediately, and vehemently — With urgency to correct you. “No. No, sweetheart, I do not regret it. Could never regret you. I mean, that was- Shit, I've been wanting to do that since-”

Your hand finds the warmth of his chest, fingers scraping at the small tattoo there, “You have?” 

Eddie nods his head against the blankets, sweaty curls sticking up every which way around his head like a messy halo, “Yeah.” 

“Does that mean.. I mean, would you maybe wanna do it again sometime? But, like, when we're not high as all hell?” 

Eddie's dimpled grin has an embarrassingly wild burst of butterflies erupting inside of you, “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

You lay like that for a while, pressed together despite the heat. His fingers wander over your palms, tracing the lines there while you watch the way his rings shift. Your naked bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat. The ceiling fan pushing light waves of blessedly cool air over your skin. 

After a few minutes Eddie suddenly tears himself out of your grip, and he does it so abruptly that your brain is hardly able to comprehend the loss of him. He lets out a quiet yelp of distress and nearly collapses face-first into the blankets in a mad scramble toward your legs. He manhandles you until you're sprawled on your back, pushing your thighs apart before flopping entirely ungracefully onto his belly in the narrow space he's made between them. 

As you push up onto your elbows to peer down at him, Eddie is simply stroking his fingers soft up and down the length of your cum-soaked folds. His eyes are alight with wonder while he watches his own spend begin to leak out. One of his thumbs catches it as it falls, and he pulls his hand back for just a moment to get a better look at the pearlescent mixture of your combined cum. 

“What're you doing?” You giggle after a long moment of simply watching him.

Eddie's head snaps up with such surprise it looks as if he might've forgotten you were even there, if such a thing were possible. 

“Just, uh.. Admiring my handiwork.” He grins like he's all-too pleased with himself, dimples poking into his cheeks. 

“It's our handiwork, actually,” You correct playfully, “Half of that's mine, and- No, wait. Actually, 's all mine now.” You tell him triumphantly.

His eyes narrow in confusion and you redirect your gaze pointedly. His attention follows your own, eyes flicking briefly toward his own hand, where the cum has begun to drip slow down his thumb toward the meat of his palm. 

“What, this?” He questions in amusement. 

“Yes that.” You tell him with a frown, “'s mine.” You have to bite back an honest-to-god cackle at the entirely contrived look of betrayal on his face. “Put it back.” You challenge. 

Eddie's eyes roll in irritation as he repeats your words mockingly, his voice thrown high in an exceptionally poor imitation of your own, but he does dutifully drop his hand down between your thighs again to attempt to push the cum back inside you. 

He looks pleased as punch once he's done. He looks at your cunt with a dopey grin on his face, cheeks still pink with exertion and hair wild. 

“Don't miss me too much, pretty. A'right? I'll be seein' you again real soon.” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes never once leaving your cunt. He punctates his words by pressing a gentle kiss to your mound, just a hair's breadth from your clit. 

And then that dumb, dazed smile takes over his face again. 

You squint down at him, “Was.. Were you talking to me or my-”

“Was talkin' to this pretty pussy.” Eddie says matter of factly, stroking his hand over the coarse hairs between your thighs in the way one might pet an animal. 

“Okay.” You manage, laughter preventing you from saying anything else. 

Eddie tugs a large chunk of loose curls across his face and lays his cheek to your upper thigh. He stays like that for a moment, hidden behind the curtain of his hair, big brown eyes blown about as wide as he can manage through his high.

 “..Do you still wanna fuck me?” 

He pouts. It's ridiculous. It's adorable.

You can't pretend to mull it over for more than a few seconds, your cheeks ache with the need to smile. He makes you so happy you feel borderline deranged. 

Your lips quirk up even as you sigh dramatically, “Regrettably? Yes.”  

He fucking cheers. 

He drums his hands enthusiastically against your thighs and yells so loud in victory that all you can do is laugh and cover your ears until he's finished. 

You don't regret it, not a goddamn bit.

[thedas-elf-lover]

A slightly deranged review from a long time Dragon Age fan.

What this game promised to be in terms of a Dragon Age game: - Most romantic - Offer a few key world state choices that would have great plot impact, which emphasis on wanting to give players choices that have a visual impact, not just codex. - The most complex, deep companions yet. - Choices that matter.

What I got: [SPOILERS] - The shortest, chastest romances I've ever seen, where the end goal is quite literally sex. The final romance scene is the sex scene, after you've been locked in for some time. No sex before marriage, lol. Even the shortest romance in DAI is longer than the longest romance in this game. It's probably the least sex positive game out of them all. - The only choice that has visual impact is the Solas option, and even that doesn't really give anything major. Solas has maybe one unique line? Otherwise, there is no major change. The other two choices (Did you disband the Inquisition? Did you vow to save or stop Solas?) have no difference, either. It's a matter of do you want your Inquisitor to say "comrade" or "friend." The Inquisition doesn't matter. The South gets nuked off-screen anyway. In codex. So two of the three world state choices we get are mostly represented in codexes anyway. - I have nothing against the companions in Veilguard, but to call them the most complex is somewhat... false. Solas is a complex character. Thom Ranier is complex. Vivienne de Fer is complex. Fenris, Anders, Merrill, Isabela, Morrigan, and Sten are complex characters. They are characters who contain complexities that are not easily swept away. ALL the Veilguard companions are your next door neighbors. They're normal. There's nothing wrong about that, but they don't challenge you. There's nothing to think about. Lucanis isn't going to make you seriously consider your morality, despite being the "prince" of the Crows - hired killers. Neve's standing and possible privilege as a human mage in a magocracy is never commented on. These are just two examples, but the same applies for the rest of the companions. None of them are HIDING anything. I will reiterate that there's not anything necessarily WRONG with that, but it does mean they lack the flare of drama that previous companions had that made them brain-scratchers. - Choices don't matter. No matter what Rook does or says, you're railroaded into a scrappy, heroic person who is always right. The worst thing you can do in this game is just NOT do the companion quests. - Despite being a RPG, there is no roleplaying. It's more action/adventure. But it gets a little slow in places for an action/adventure. And it doesn't have enough roleplay value to be a satisfying RPG. - Pretty much the only reason I can see replaying this game is to see the opposite city routes. You don't have to finish the game to get the full romance, either. - No lore continuity. Elves, qunari, dwarves, and humans just living in peace in Tevinter. Some fantasy where poor communities aren't racist doesn't explain this away. - Orientalism in Rivain? - Reducing what was originally a story about slave liberation and rebellion to "love and murder" over Solas' ex situationship. - The game can understand gender that exists outside a binary but somehow can't understand multiculturalism. - Why does Bellara, a Dalish elf, have white guilt?

Some disorganized additions:

- Tonal whiplash. You go from losing a supposedly beloved companion to the final romance scene (the sex scene) in the space of 5 second. - You can't speak to your companions outside cutscenes. However, you can go around the Lighthouse snooping on your companions having nice conversations amongst themselves. - Not a SINGLE companion bothers to check in on the PC even once. You played as a Grey Warden who lost Weisshaupt? No one cares. Emmrich will check in on Davrin but not you. The only point in the game where they show even a smidgeon of care for you is after the Regret Prison, but they don't actually show it. You're pulled out and it immediately cuts to a war table scene. No emotional reunions. - This is Found Family - but only for the companions. Bellara has the opportunity to see Neve as a sister figure, but not you. This could roll into the lack of roleplay value in this game, but it really adds to the lonely element of this game. - "Okay guys, we lost the big game. Let's all take a step back and do some self-care exercises." But the game is Weisshaupt and the South is getting nuked. - Characters often feel like caricatures of themselves. Oftentimes this game feels like a fanfiction of the story and characters it's representing. Some of the things the characters say are not things that normal people would say. Because Rook never builds more than an entirely superficial relationship with their coworkers, it's entirely believable that the most moving thing Rook can think to say, whenever the obligatory Sad Moment happens to a companion, is "[Insert Name Here], I'm so sorry." - You could replace the Inquisitior with a cardboard cut out and it would have more life. - We already had a story about a disapproving parent who is hurtful to their queer child with Dorian. There was a missed opportunity with Shathann to explore the Qunari's view on gender, but only the Tevinter characters are allowed to talk to Taash about different gender identities. When Shathann talks about qunari gender identity, it's oppression. This game's handle on cultural identity is awful. And then they fridged Shathann. - Did you know Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, the ancient elven gods (we won't say Evanuris even though that's shorter and more believable to Andrastians who might balk at the idea of ELVEN gods), have escaped from their prison and are blighting the world? The elven gods escaped and they're blighting the world, because they're blighted and escaped prison and are elven gods and are blighting the world, Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, those gods, who are elven, and escaped and are blighting the world. - This game is Young Adult. This game is YA with all the darker, grittier elements from the previous game filed away, presented as "politically correct" with "ethical piracy" with no continuity in characterization because Isabela Dragon Age 2 would NOT say any of that. It's if Genshin Impact was a Dragon Age game, complete with the canned body language (cross arms). - The villains are one-dimensional. Aelia's "Minrathous dark truth" AKA Batman villain, Butcher dies after 1 moment of glory, the Dragon King is nothing sauce, if Elgar'nan was just a little bit more intelligent he'd have just smashed that moon into Thedas and called it a day, Illario's speech is ripped right from the Lion King. Gone are the days where antagonists had complex reasons for their actions. Gone are the days where characters were put into situations were there was NO good choice for them to make and we could judge them with the nuance they deserved. - Also did you know: Whatever it takes?

On the bright side, the CC is great.

[valalice]

BLINDS WIDE OPEN .ᐟ ft. stalker!caitvi

ꮼ summary. you've unknowingly attracted the attention of piltover's finest, and now they'll do anything to make sure you're theirs. ( inspired by 'she' by tyler, the created ft. frank ocean )

warnings. dark content. fem!reader. reader isn't specified to be from piltover or zaun. stalking. slightly nsfw. established caitvi. allusions to murder but could also be just them scaring off said person. possessive!caitvi. abuse of power (on cait's part). commander!cait. unsolicited note & gift sending. staged meeting/slight savior complexes. pet names (r!receiving : darling, pretty girl, little bird, dear). reader is painfully oblivious. vouyerism. vi takes pictures of reader without her consent. pantie stealing & sniffing & alluded usage of stolen panties. wc. 2.3k

m.list. | arcane m.list.

‣ their little obsession starts out innocent. you're just a civilian, blending into the crowd around you, just another person going about their routine. but to caitlyn and vi you stood out. they didn't actively seek you out, you just happened to also be in the same places as they were at times, and they couldn't complain about that. often moving or forgetting what they were doing to see (follow) you a little longer.

‣ they agree that they've never been so sure about something before. you allure them in, like a flower temping a honey bee. someone so sweet, with such beauty that want, need you. they begin calling your theirs from then on.

‣ it turned sour when once again, out of coincidence you were in the same vicinity as vi, the pink haired woman quickly taking notice of you, her fingers hooking into her hood to pull it over and cover herself as she keeps a sweet distance behind you. not too far and not too close. the bustling streets get rowdier and vi gets thrown around a bit, picking up her pace and ramming her shoulder into who gets close to her, so she doesn't get whisked off into the frown and loses you. she groans when out of nowhere a brutish man blocks her view, putting her scuffed hand on his arm, mumbling something out about needing somewhere to be (a lie), and just within those few moments of vi’s watchful eye on you you've presumably arrived at your destination, a restaurant. she sighs and takes post near by, but as quickly as she was resting, slumped against some wall, her posture straightens out. fist fighting at her side, her teeth begging to grind, hard enough she'd snap her jaw off. you've met up with a woman, and said woman has her hands on you, pulling you into a hug. a glare bores into the mystery woman's head. if vi had glared any harder she's sure beams would've shot out her eyes and straight into her head.

‣ since then, the couple had made sure to purposely watch you. no more coincidences or hopeful wishes that they'd see you a few times out of their week. now they see you every chance they can get. and at this point they're getting bolder, more risky with how they watch you. inching closer and closer into your space as they follow you just to get a whiff of your shampoo, or perfume. going into the same places as you instead of watching from outside. frequenting the same places you frequent and learning your favorites, caitlyn has gone as far, as asking for the same drink as you one time when she was standing behind you in a small cafe. they're even begin starting to work out your relationships with people, keeping tabs on them too. and oh, you haven't seen that one friend in awhile.

‣ caitlyn begins to abuse her power as commander to find and dig through your findings. memorizing your stats; height, weight, hair color, eye color, blood type, ect. she got caught once snooping through your files by a subordinate and quickly sorted herself out, clearing her throat out and making up some lie about needing a file on a stillwater escapee. waving your file at them and briskly walking past them saying that she’ll be in her office, when she's really taking that file home with her.

‣ they’d even begin sending you notes and gifts. notes that read along the lines as “you look beautiful today.” “loved the new hairstyle, did it just for us?” “one day you'll see that you were made for us.” and the gifts are usually items they'd watch you eye in shops or things they'd think you'd like based off of your other preferences, like clothing, books, a new bag, that expensive new technology device you've been saving up for since your old one broke, and of course the classic flowers and chocolate. and they can't lie when they're hurt whenever you come home or open your door to one of their notes or gifts that you have a horrified look on your face, frantically looking around to see you could've given it to you, and vi in particular is hurt whenever she watches you throw out the chocolates she picked for you.

‣ despite all of this, they still have yet to formally meet you, although they're sure you know of them. but they can't simply introduce themselves, they have to make it look natural. accidental and like you needed them. they've learned your entire routine just for a moment like this.

you had just finished up grocery shopping. the sun was just finishing up with rising fully within the sky. you enjoyed going first thing when the store opens to dismiss the morning rush that happens by the time you're bagging your items and leaving. as you're making your way home, your head peeks from over the brown paper bags in your arms to watch where you're walking.

it's quick and sudden, the catch of something on your foot. knowing what's next, so you close your eyes preparing for impact against the ground. at least your groceries will cushion your fall, but not without ruining them underneath your weight.

except you don't and your body stays slanted still at a degree. peeking an eye open you're met with a pink haired woman, she looks familiar, but you can't put your finger on her name. you're reminded of the groceries in your arms from the crinkle of the bags, and they feel lighter in your arms. her hands are placed over your groceries, and there's also a pair of hands on you, but on your waist? who's the person behind you?

“are you alright?” the woman in front of you asks, her voice is low and comforting.

it happens swifty, the woman in front and the person behind you working to place you back upright on your feet. and you're dazed when she also takes most of the bags from your arms.

“she asked you a question, darling.” you twist around at the sound of a new voice, the person from behind you presume, and it's. . . british? upon turning around you're met with the fall figure of commander kiramman, and on instinct you're standing a little straighter.

“c—commander kiramman,” you splutter out. “i’m, uh, i’m okay.” looking down you adjust the bags in your arms, just for caitlyn to swoop down and take them in her arms, and within them, the bags no longer look as big as they did in your arms. “thank you, for, em, catching me from falling to my doom.” you let out a light laugh at the end, trying to make light of your embarrassing situation and to ignore that you're flushed, thankful for the cool morning air against the warmth of your sizzling body.

“it's no problem, really. we hate to see a pretty girl get hurt.” the pink woman smiles. oh! that's when it clicks.

“you're vi!” you enthuse, feeling a sense of pride that you were able to remember her name, you knew she seemed familiar. feeling a little silly it didn't click sooner since she's so recognizable.

“i am,” her smile grows. “and you already know caitlyn.”

it feels like a game as you bounce your head from one woman to the other, but now your attention lies on caitlyn. “no more calling me commander kiramman. no need for formalities, you can just call me caitlyn.” she hums, correcting her name for you.

yet your wide eyes stay strained up at her, “but would it not be respectful to call you commander?”

caitlyn’s exterior remains collected, only vi catching the way cait’s eye slightly twitches, your worries for calling her by her correct title is cute and sends a jolt straight to her cunt.

“like i said, no need for that. calling me caitlyn is perfectly respectful. alright, little bird?”

they both refrain from voicing their distaste of your nod at cait’s words.

it's quiet for a moment, the three of you just looking between each other and you realize both of them still have your groceries in their arms. “oh! i can take my groceries now.”

they both look at you like you'd just grown another head from your neck.

“don't be silly. you should've seen how looked trying to carry all of these bags—”

cait cuts vi off, “you looked comically cute.”

a part of you doesn't really know how to take that they thought you looked funny trying to carry your groceries, but at least they thought you were cute. “i normally don't have that many bags,” that was something they already knew. “but today they had some great deals i couldn't pass up on.” oh, gee, they wonder who tipped off the owner to have such deals.

“well that's great, dear. but what we're trying to get at is that, we want to assist you with your groceries.” caitlyn clarifies, eyes flickering down to her girlfriend.

“so, we’ll carry them. keeping you from stumbling by trying to balance it all in your arms. and you show us the way to your place.” vi finishes, although they already knew the route to your home with their eyes closed.

this isn't something that you'd agree to, but it's vi and commander kiramman, or caitlyn, and that automatically makes you trust them. agreeing to their offering and placing yourself ahead, beginning to walk your way home, and they follow, missing the way they wickedly smile at each as they just perfectly wormed their way into your life.

‣ since meeting you they've become even further unhinged. while caitlyn has duties that distract her from her habits of watching you, vi has complete free will to watch you whenever she'd like. her favorite is when cait is working late, instead of being alone at the estate, she’ll take post at a spot close to you place, to her it's the perfect spot, having a view into your home, able to see as you go from room to room, even your bedroom. both you and her are thankful that your windows don't really point anywhere, so you're comfortable enough to keep you blinds open most of the time and vi is able to watch as you leisure around, cook, clean, when you're fresh from a shower, still damp and drying off your body with your towel. she's seen it all, she's seen you all, in your most vulnerable state when you touch yourself, fingers trailing between your pretty thighs to play with your cunt. vi wishes she could hear the gasp, whines, and moans of pleasure that fall from your lips, but right now the best she can do is capture pictures.

bonus

‣ they're both desperate for you, the run ins, pictures, files, watching you isn't getting them what they need. but they both know that it isn't time to act just yet. so, cait request for vi to break into your home one night, a night they know you'll be out with some friends, to steal a few pairs of your panties. something small that'll take the edge off for a little while. luckily it had been a warm few days and a window in your bedroom was cracked, so vi welcomed herself in as she slid the window open wider so she could slip in. already having the layout of your bedroom memorized as she makes her way to your dresser, opening the first drawer to behold where you keep your socks, bras, and panties. she diligently scours through the stacks of panties, making sure to keep them all nice and tidy as you had them, picking out a few pairs that she and cait would like, mostly cotton, until she got to the bottom of the stacks where you kept your lace panties. she can only imagine that you got them for her and cait to look all pretty when they finally take you. there's a pretty lavender pair, it makes her wet thinking about you wearing them. vi brings them up to her nose, eyes rolling back as she sniffs the fabric, you've worn them before she can tell, they smell of you and your detergent. feeling a high, she promptly stuffs the various pairs of panties in her pockets and exits her way from your bedroom, leaving everything as it was when she came in. caitlyn and her will make great use of them.

and just a few days later cait gets a call from you, the exchange of numbers occurring that morning they helped you with your groceries. “what is it, darling. tell me.”

“it’s—” you pause, rethinking if you should've even called. “it's embarrassing, but i’m scared.” you whisper.

“i ensure you i’ve heard my fair share of things while on the job.”

“promise you won't laugh or call me crazy?”

“i promise.”

you sigh, gathering courage. “i have a stalker, or stalkers. i really don't know but they refer to themselves as 'us' and 'we' a lot.”

caitlyn leans back in her office chair, “oh, darling. i’m sorry to hear that.” faux concern is ridden in her tone. “have they been doing anything to you?” she already knows the answer to that, this is normally the time she'd take out her note pad and pen to make note of the report, but there's no need for that.

“yes. i feel foolish to not think much of it at first, i thought it would just fizzle out over time. but the notes, the gifts, they've gotten odder. and now—” you stop yourself.

“and now?”

you bite your lip, your heartbeat beats rapidly in your chest, it's loud bangs rattling throughout your body. “i think they've taken some of my panties.” you whisper that also, embarrassed to have to admit that.

caitlyn smirks against the phone. oh, you have no idea.

[sturniqlo]

KINKTOBER WEEK 4 | ROOM 373- C.S

summary: when not enough rooms were booked ends up leaves y/n and chris sharing a room on their vacation

cw: cursing, brothers best friend trope, SMUT; wet dream, making out, handjob, cum eating

masterlist | kinktober | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

"this is nice as hell." matt says when they arrived at the hotel they'd be staying at. it was summer now, and both the triplets family and y/n's family always went on a summer vacation together ever since they could remember. "alright, let's get checked in." y/n's mom says. they all walk through the revolving doors and see the tropical vibe that is inside.

"cant wait to take the fattest nap of my life." y/n groans, leaning her head on nicks shoulder. "i agree." nick nods, looking down at her and giggling as she looked really tired. stands of hair had fallen out of her braid, and her lipliner and lipgloss had worn off ages ago.

chris looked over at her and met her gaze for a few seconds before looking away. although they had all been friends for many many years, chris was always her brothers best friend. if chris wasn't with his brothers, he was with him.

the kids, stood in line by their parents as they got handed their key. this year, the parents had splurged a bit and had gotten everyone their own individual room. as y/n got her key, she bolted to the elevators to go to her room to shower and nap. when she entered her room, she opened up her suitcase on the other side of the bed on the floor. she grabbed her toiletries and picked out a sleeping outfit which was just an oversized tee and sleeping shorts.

grabbing her towel, she headed off into the bathroom.

chris was the last one to get his key since his room had a bit of complications since the hotel was fully booked. after he got his key, he took his time into finding his room. when he spotted 373, he tapped the key card and entered the space, closing the door behind him. he dropped his suitcase off by the door and flopped on the bed, closing his eyes.

not even a minute later, he heard some movement in the bathroom. chris got startled and immediately sat up. what the hell. he thought. was he in the wrong room? was someone in the wrong room? the bathroom door opened and y/n came out with wet hair wearing an oversized tee. "chris? what are you doing in here?" she raised an eyebrow, patting her wet hair with her towel. "this is my room, what are you doing here?" chris was relieved that it was y/n and not some stranger.

he caught himself looking at her exposed legs and quickly looked back at her eyes. "what? no it's not." she said, hanging her towel up in the closet space. y/n grabbed her key card off of the night stand and held her hand out. "let me see yours." chris pulled his key card out of his pocket. she sat next to him, too close, and he could smell the sweetness of her shampoo. as he admired her side profile, she spoke up. "they're the same. do you think it was a mistake?" she looked at him.

"i dunno'. don't think so, i took longer because the hotel was fully booked." he shrugged. "i- i mean we could share a room, i won't mind. it's only a week." she said. chris nodded. "i don't mind either."

"well, i'm going to take a nap. please don't be too loud."

two hours later, y/n woke up from her nap and switched on her other side to be met with chris laying on his phone. "hey there, sleepyhead." chris noticed that she was awake. "what time is it?" she asked, yawning. "seven twenty two." he looked at the corner of his phone. she tosses the blanket off of her and sits up, her hair still lightly damped.

chris watched her as she sat up, and putting her slippers on as she made her way to the bathroom. as she entered the bathroom, his eyes wandered down south, seeing the bottom of her shorts ride up. stop it! he thought and shook his head, looking away. chris went back to using his phone trying to the get imagine of the silver if skin that he had seen out of his mind. she was his best friends little sister after all.

a couple of minutes later, she walked out looking more awake. she made her way to her suitcase and threw on a hoodie. "i'm going to the food court, wanna come?" she untucked her hair from the inside of her hoodie. "sure, why not." chris shrugged, putting his phone away and grabbing a key card from the nightstand.

the two of them walked next to eachother down the hall making their way to the elevator. y/n's stomach growled since she was starving. she was thankful that the resort had a food court. when they arrived at the small court, they looked at their options. "what did you want to get?" he looked at her, admiring her facial features. "uhm, probably a burger and some fries, you?" he nodded. "i'll get the same."

they both walked to the burger station and got their food. the food was brought back up to their room. her and chris sat on the bed eating their food as they watched a horror movie on the television. "why the hell would he go out there knowing the killer is there, my fucking god." she said, pointing at the screen. chris laughed, ever since they were kids she'd always made little commentary during movies stating her opinion. that was one of the many things he liked about her.

after the movie had ended, the food long gone. it was nearing ten pm and chris was starting to get sleepy. "i'm going to start getting ready for bed." he said, getting up off of the bed and heading to his suitcase. chris grabbed his toiletries and a change of clothes along with his towel to shower. "alright." she said, scrolling on her phone. y/n on the other hand, was wide awake. the nap she had taken and the food she had eaten, she wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

soon, chris got out of the shower, his hair wet and he was shirtless. she stared for a couple of seconds before going back to scrolling through her phone. "is it okay if i turn the lights off?" chris hung his towel next to hers. "go ahead." she nodded, laying on her side away from chris. the lights turned off and shortly after she felt the bed dip two feet away from her. "g'night." he yawned. "night, chris." she turned her phone brightness and volume down so he can sleep.

it was now a bit past midnight and she was watching a show on her phone with low volume. chris was still fast asleep and shifted a few times in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words. she giggled ever time it happened because whenever they would have sleepover as kids, he'd always deny that he talked in his sleep.

as she continued watching the movie, she felt chris scoot closer to her and drape his arm over her waist. the sudden movement startled her as is was unexpected. however, she thought nothing of it, he was always a cuddly sleeper.

chris kept mumbling and moving here and there. until, she started to feel something poke her lower back. was he having a wet dream? she paused her movie, maybe she was wrong? chris rocked his hips and bit and whined. shit. she was right.

deep in his sleep, the tension in his pants woke him up. and he found himself cuddled y/n from behind and gently rocking his hips against her. "oh my god, i'm so sorry!" he quickly took his hand off and sat up. she followed, turned the lamp on. "it's okay, chris." she said. "i'm so so sorry, y/n. fuck!" he cursed at himself.

"chris, i said it's okay." she climbed on his lap. he was surprised at what she was doing. hell, even she was surprised at herself. "w- what are you doing?" his hands came up to rest on her hips and she settled herself on his lap. "can i help you? is that okay?." she held his face in her hands, caressing his cheek. "yes, fuck, please do." he nodded, answering her questions.

she brought their lips together in a kiss. chris moaned into the kiss. he had been wanting to do this forever. her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands rubbed against her sides, groaning when she pushed her core against his hard on. y/n pulled away, holding his chin. chris tried to connect his lips back with hers but she pulled away slightly and smirked.

she swore she heard him whine. "let me help you." she let go of his chin, her hand traveling down his chest to the waistband of his sweats. he nodded, giving her permission to pull him out. "words, chris." she looked into his eyes. "yes, yes, please." she giggled at his eagerness. "i'll take good care of you, promise." she leaned down to press a kiss on his neck before she climbed off of his lap and sat on her knees near his thighs.

he pulled his sweats and underwear down a bit and his cock sprung up. "look at you, so hard." she cooed, gently taking him into her hand. he hissed. "fuck." he threw his head back. "so sensitive, i've barely touched you." her hand squeezed him a bit. he groaned. y/n smirked, bringing her thumb up to his slit that's leaking with pre-come.

her hand began to move up and down his length at a faster pace. she was awed at the sight of him. his jaw was slacked, and his head was thrown back against the headboard. "doin' so good f'me, babe." her lips came up to his exposed neck. the pet name only made him harder.

"i want you to come in my hand, alright? want every. single. drop. on my hand. we don't wanna waste a drop, now do we?" she bites the skin on his neck, not hard enough to leave a mark. how would they explain it to everyone tomorrow morning?

"so- so close. don't stop." he gasped, feeling his orgasm build up. she let go of him for a bit and he whined. "baby, wha- why'd you stop?" he says out of breath, lifting his head off of the headboard. she smirked, scooting to sit on his thighs. "patience, chris."

chris looked down at her shirt covered chest and saw her nipples poking her thin shirt. "want me to take it off?" y/n noticed his gaze on her nipples. he nodded. "yes, can- can i?" the ache of his cock very much still there. "go ahead." she smiled, moving a piece of his hair that fell on his forehead.

his hands came to the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head. chris' eyes locked onto her exposed chest. he brought his hands up to her tits and gently squeezed them. as he caressed them, her hands were now back on his cock. "yes, fuck, yes!" he groaned. "you like that, yeah? like my hand on your hard cock." she looked into his eyes.

"kiss me, please." he said, bringing his hands from her tits to her neck. she didn't stop the movement of her hands as he pulled her into a kiss. the room was filled with the smacking sound of their lips and her hand on moving up and down his cock.

"so close, shit!" he mumbled into the kiss. "come for me, chris." her hand sped up. "fuck, fuck, fuck!" he chanted, feeling the familiar build up. he couldn't keep up with kissing her, his head falling back against the headboard again. "i'm- shit! i'm cumming! fuck, baby!" his jaw went slack at the intensity of his orgasm.

spurts of his white come dripped down her hand and painted her sternum and his lower belly. "shit-" he twitched as he became sensitive in her hands.

"did so good for me, baby. so good." she smiled, bringing her cum covered finger up to her mouth.

"you even taste good."

[crheativity]

Mc/Yuu that when given genuine affection from their friends such as a small gift or just being told that they enjoy being around them, they just get really quiet and look at their friend with shock and disbelief, tearing up a little bit and just going "...oh..." in a real small voice.

Bonus points if they're not usually emotional like this.

It would be fun if it was the overblot gang since they just got some gifts themselves, or maybe ADeuce duo...idk man, I just want some wholesome friendship, I feel like there aren't enough fics like that in this fandom-

WARNINGS: Can be read as platonic or romantic, some of these might be longer/shorter than others, all of them care about you but (almost) all of them are bad with Emotions. also there are slight references to book 6 in Idia’s section if you squint

COMMENTS: AWH this is such a cute idea! And yes, there should definitely be more wholesome, platonic fics! Also, sorry these are short D:

Wait, crap, you’re tearing up? He just got you a present- are you okay?? He’s low key worried about you, unsure if this is just you being extremely excited about his (amazing) gift or if there’s something else going on. Either way, he’s quick to figure it out and reassure you as best he can. He’s torn between feeling bad about making you cry and being happy you liked his present so much. Either way, he pulls you into a hug and rubs patterns into your back until you feel better.

You’re crying?! Ohhhh crap oh crap oh crap- he doesn’t know what to do! Was his present that bad-? Once you reassure him and tell him you love it, he relaxes a little bit but is still clearly distressed. He isn’t very good at figuring out why you’re reacting this way, but his genuine care for you shines through and helps you feel a little more comfortable in his own way.

Wh-what?? Did he do something wrong-? He did a bunch of research, so he had assumed that this gift would be something you’d appreciate, not tear up over! Riddle is. Confused. And scared. He’s new to this whole “having friends” thing, and he thinks very highly of you, so the thought of messing up is pretty scary. He’s at quite a loss of what to do. When you reassure him and tell him you’re okay, he’s very relieved. He makes a note of how much you appreciated the gift and is determined to do more for you. If he has to get used to having friends, he wants you to get used to receiving the affection you deserve, too.

Awh, come on. You’re seriously tearing up over this? He ruffles your hair affectionately, giving you space to process your emotions while staying nearby. He doesn’t quite get what all the fuss is about - all he knows is he got you something and then you “exploded into tears” (you did not, he’s exaggerating). He sits with you until you feel better and tries to think of ways he could give you stuff without you “freaking out” like this. Maybe some money left in your pockets would be a good idea…

As soon as you tear up, he wants to go hide in his octo-pot. He knew it, it was a stupid idea. He should’ve gone with the other present idea, maybe then you’d be less disappointed. If you even still want to be friends with him after this. The moment you explain that you’re really happy, however, his mood does a complete 180, attempting to both comfort you and gloat a little at the same time. He would pat you a little awkwardly on the shoulder, wanting to express he appreciated your vulnerability. He’s definitely making notes on things he could spoil you with.

He freezes. Dang, he thought it was something you’d like. If not, that’s okay, he did keep the receipt. You can take it back to the store and get a refund if you’d- oh? You liked it? He’s another one that would try to comfort you and feel smug at the same time. The thought of making anyone but particularly you so happy is a little jarring to him, and your way of expressing emotions is definitely unexpected, but he’s glad he got you this. Maybe he’ll get you something better next time.

For once, Vil is speechless. For a moment he just kinda stands there in surprise, before sweeping you into his arms for a hug - completely ignoring how his clothes might crinkle. He didn’t think you would react that way, and - although he’s pretty sure you’re happy - he wants to comfort you anyway. Once you confirm you’re actually happy, he thinks your reaction is sweet and endearing and pure. He’s definitely buying you more things if this is your reaction to it,

The moment you say “oh” and start to tear up he’s internally going say sike rn. Bro was not prepared for Emotions. He can hardly handle his own feelings, why’d fate dump him with someone else’s?! Especially since they belong to someone he cares about. He’s not real good with other people, let alone taking care of them. He wishes Ortho was here - he could google Top 10 Ways To Comfort A Friend Who Randomly Starts Crying. Idia kinda just ends up patting your entire head awkwardly and saying “there there” through his tablet. He knows it’s pathetic, okay?

He’s utterly confused. He followed the Human Customs of buying a gift for someone you care about, why are you displaying a negative reaction? Was the gift not satisfactory? Lilia said this would be enough, although perhaps he should’ve gone with his original plan and bought you significantly more. Were you perhaps disappointed? Once you reassure him, he almost laughs. He thinks your reaction was very cute, he will be buying you significantly more things. Prepare yourself.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[evilminji]

I will NEVER not want Danny to have Multicultural Zone Vibez.

Like? To just... just HAVE shit you CAN NOT GET in "this" Reality.

Is it a tee-shirt? The podcast he's listening too? Those snacks? Maybe it's the tea! He has a distinct accent. No one can place it. He talks about hitting up The Market. Is suuuuper vague about WHICH market, but it sounds awesome. He apparently gets like? ALL his shit from there.

Amazing deals on everything.

You've been over to his place. The linens look like something out of a fantasy novel. HAND MADE sorta shit. Like? It must have taken, what, months? Years? To make that? He got it "cheap", supposedly, because the shop owner is no longer in their "space phase".

None of his plates match. Some look futuristic, some are hand made, a few look CARVED. Is this bone?

"Don't worry about it."

You recognize maybe a third of the movies he owns, AT BEST. But you could have SWORN like three of them weren't out yet. And details are off in two others.

The dude is weird. His PLACE is weird. His FOOD is all knock off brands you've never heard off. They've gotta be. There's fruits you can't recognize in the fridge and he uses a vegetable you've never seen before in the stir fry. Tastes pretty good. Kinda garlicky. But, like?

You've NEVER seen him use any of them local grocery stores. You're half convinced, that even with a gun to his head? He would be able to tell you WHERE THEY ARE.

Dude.

And, yeah, it's a major city. A DC city of your choice. His weirdness lvl is so low, if constant, that it barely registers. Frankly? Everyone just thinks "ah, yes, an immigrant from... somewhere. Don't be a dick about it, me." And moves on. Gives it no further thought. But?

Eventually he's gonna make friends~

They ARE gonna want to know more about him.

And they're gonna realize he's WEIRD AF. Give them the LORE, Danny. It's driving them crazy!!

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation