#I’m sorry I couldn’t be more specific!

[delulupunk]

How the batboys would react to anniversaries!

Dick Grayson

He really tries his best to spend the day with you or carve out some time, but if you’re a civilian then it’s hard. He’s got to lead the titans, stop Mr Freeze, make sure Bruce doesn’t adopt anyone else, stop Mr Freeze again!

When he finally gets to you he makes it well worth your time. He’ll confidently give you your favourite flowers because he knows exactly which ones they are.

Dick is a diehard romantic so he’ll bring you back to wherever you had your first date, or where you first met depending on how memorable the moment was.

“Sooooo, I’m assuming you remember this place…” He’ll say with a cheeky smile- nervously he’ll add, “You do like it right?”

Expect a lot of nostalgia to the early days of your relationship, which will lead to you two falling in love with each other again.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the entire World.”

Jason Todd

“Well… do you want to celebrate our anniversary?”

Jason doesn’t believe it should be any different from any other days in your relationship. Sure he wants to commemorate and appreciate your time together, but you two shouldn’t be doing anything drastically different right? After all you both put a 110% into your relationship naturally.

He’ll definitely buy you a very thoughtful gift, most likely a book that reminds him of you. However Jason doesn’t have the confidence to give it to you in person, because he’s scared you’ll reject the idea or throw his affections back in his face.

Instead he’ll leave the gift for you on the beside table with a note. Which is short and to the point, but again he’s worried that he may be overestimating how much you truly care for him, so he acts aloof.

“For you, happy anniversary.”

Tim drake

He’ll probably be a few minutes late to the date looking totally disorientated. Shoving your favourite flowers into your hand he’ll breathlessly give you an apology.

“Sorry-“ pant, “riddler,” pant, “is crazy,” wheeze.

Tim is looking for more of a casual day rather than a massive extravagant event. He just wants to spend time with his lover and feel free to be himself.

The pair of you will go on a date doing something that you both find equally enjoyable so the day isn’t solely spent on one of you.

Tim’s definitely bought you something expensive to give you after the date is over. It’s something that reminded him of you when he walked past a store in the diamond district a few weeks ago and he couldn’t resist. Secretly he hopes you like it, one because his bank account took a bit of a dent, two the store doesn’t do returns and three he’ll be scared he doesn’t understand you properly.

“It suits you perfectly.”

Damian Wayne

You and Damian have dinner at Wayne Manor, which sounds very simplistic, but the little details are what makes the anniversary special.

Either you or Alfred will make the dinner, while Damian goes patrolling. This means he has the entire night to give to you and not Gotham.

You both dress up as if you’re going to a fancy gala and insist on no interruptions.

It’s just you and Damian with the fireplace silently rustling behind you and the opulence of Wayne Manor to embrace you.

The affair is quiet and romantic, not overstated and tiring. It’s just the right pace for you and Damian.

No words need to be said at the end of the meal as you both stare into the fireplace, save for a previous statement.

“Thank you for trusting me with your heart.”

Duke Thomas

“No it’s next week right?”

Duke is so sweet and loves you to the moon and back. Unfortunately he’s a bit forgetful. Duke however makes things up for you in an impressive fashion. If there’s one thing Duke is known for it’s kindness.

You’d think he hadn’t even forgotten considering how he takes you to all the right places and says all the right things. The day goes by so quickly but it’s completely jam packed with activities.

“I know you always wanted to, so why not today!”

Since he forgot the anniversary he doesn’t buy you a specific gift, but to you the day in itself is a gift. He completely forgoes patrol all together for you.

“Please forgive me, I love you too much to let you go.”

[usomads]

You're My Problem // Tama Tonga x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hiiii, so idk how I feel about this honestly but I wanted to get my first Tama story out (we’re starving out here lol) and here’s what I came up with. Lmk if you have any recs for him, and as always, happy reading!!!

Plot -> You and Tama can’t stand each other. Locked in a room with him by force, will the two of you make up or will the hate continue?

Pairings -> Tama Tonga x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Cursing, Choking, Degradation, Oral Receiving (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Hair Pulling, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, MDNI

Word Count -> 2.4k

It was impossible to point to a specific incident that led to you and Tama despising each other so deeply, it seemed as if from the moment you met it was clear the two of you would never get along. You were assigned as a producer for the Bloodline storyline, which unfortunately meant that you were working closely with him every single week. None of the other members had a problem with you. In fact, they loved you, but Tama never shared that sentiment. So here you were in the Bloodline’s locker room trying to pitch the promo they’d be doing later in the night but, of course, Tama was being difficult as usual.

“You’re insufferable, you know that? I can’t even get this fuckin’ promo out without you bitching at me every five seconds. God, it’s like you do this shit on purpose-”

“Maybe you just don’t know how to do your fuckin’ job, you ever think of that, Y/N? Oh, I’m sorry, you’re never the problem, right? Shit goes sideways at least once a week but hey, it couldn’t possibly be Little Miss Perfect right?” 

“Oh, so now you think you can tell me how to do my own job? I don’t see the other three struggling with it, so that would just narrow it down to you, right? You wanna talk about me not doing my job right, look in the mirror assho-”

“Both of you, please, shut the fuck up already. It’s every week with this shit, I’m fuckin’ tired of it. Can you just get along, for once?” Sefa groaned, clearly annoyed with the two of you constantly arguing.

“Well if she weren’t such a stuck up bitch then ma-”

“The fuck did you just call me?!” You stood from your seat at Tama’s words, instantly being provoked but was stopped by Sefa stepping in front of you, preventing you from getting in Tama’s face.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, enough. Both of you need to calm the fuck down-”

“Fuck you mean, ‘calm down’? Did you not just hear what he said? Now get outta my way so I can-”

“No, none of that shit. We got more important business to tend to. Y/N, your promo idea is great, like always. And Tama,” he looked in the Tongan’s direction, “that was fuckin’ uncalled for. I don’t give a fuck how much you don’t like her, callin’ her a bitch is not cool, uce. But both of you,” he pointed between the two of you, “need to figure out whatever this issue is. I can’t have y’all bitchin’ at each other all the time, shit’s annoying as hell. So you know what, I’ve got an idea…” Sefa trailed off. ��Me, Jacob, and Tonga are gonna go talk to creative about some shit real quick, and you two,” he and the other two walked towards the door, “are gonna talk this shit out. And I’m not lettin’ y’all outta here until ‘til you do.” You and Tama both tried to say something to stop them but went ignored as Jacob, Tonga, and Sefa went out the door and closed it behind them, locking it in the process. You let out a huff of annoyance, slouching in your seat.

“You realize this is your fault, right?” You spoke out loud, not looking at Tama. “If you weren’t such a fuckin’ dick then we wouldn’t be here right now. Once again, you gotta fuck something up...” 

Tama laughed obnoxiously, “My fault? Oh, don’t act all fuckin’ innocent here, Y/N. You know damn well you had just as much a part in this as I did. Don’t play all innocent now, Sefa ain’t here to defend you.”

You stood up abruptly, ignoring him as you walked to the door and tested the doorknob, finding it was indeed locked. “You’ve gotta be kidding… he fuckin’ locked us in here?!”

Tama stood up and walked over to the door, brushing by you to try the door himself. “There’s no way he did that shit, you’re just being fuckin’ dramatic,” he twisted the knob to also find it locked, you scoffing as he had to try it himself. You step to him, forcing him to look at you as you spoke.

“What the fuck is your issue, Tama? I don’t get it,” you asked, demanding an answer. “Like, what the fuck did I ever do to you? I tried being nice to you at first, I really did, but you’ve been such a fuckin’ prick ever since I met you that you’ve made that literally impossible.” Tama fumed as he pushed your back against the door, stepping dangerously close to you. Your mind felt dizzy as he stood over you, him peering down at you with his intense gaze. Your stomach had all of a sudden become a bundle of nerves as you watched his face, anxious of what he might say or do, but deep down there was a small part of you that enjoyed how intimidated you were by him. You hated how much you enjoyed this, trying desperately to put those thoughts to the side and forget about them completely, but he wouldn’t let you. His stare wouldn’t let you. The heat emanating from his body wouldn’t let you. And his next words certainly wouldn’t either.

“You wanna know what my problem is, Y/N? You. You’re my problem.”

“Well, no shit, I fuckin’ knew that dumba-” your words caught in your throat as he stepped impossibly closer and wrapped a hand around your neck, your bodies nearly touching. You gasped at the feeling and felt your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head, trying hard to maintain a level of self control under his touch.

“My problem is every time you talk back or insult me, I wanna shove my cock down your throat right then and there to shut you up.” He growled. “Been tryin’ so hard not to ruin you since the moment I met you, ‘s why I been actin’ like I can’t stand your ass. But the more bold you been gettin’ with me,” he leaned down to your ear, “the more I wanna fuck that attitude of yours right outta ya.” You bite your lip at his words, trying your best to suppress the moans that are daring to fall off your lips. Tama raises his head and meets your gaze once more, watching you try desperately to contain yourself underneath him. Your breath quickens as his eyes scan your features, looking for any sign of surrender to him. “Not so bold anymore, huh?” Your lip bite morphs into a smirk, finding your confidence at his teasing remark.

“You gonna sit here and continue to talk outta your ass, or you gonna man up and fuckin’ kiss me already?”

He chuckles lowly before smashing his lips to yours, the grip on your throat tightening and a moan swallowed by your lips coming from his mouth. You grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, craving his touch as your lips dance along his. He forces his tongue in your mouth, dominating it as his other hand grips your hip. Wetness begins to pool at your core, the overwhelming sexual desire between you two palpable as you both fight for dominance. The two of you switch positions; Tama’s back against the door as you separate. Your swollen lips paint a smirk as your hands travel to the hem of his shirt, tugging on the fabric and prompting him to remove it. The bulge in his pants is prominent, silently aching for you as your fingers dance along his waistline. Tama watches your actions- watches you toy with him.

“Y/N, if you don’t…”

“Don’t what? You were the one who called me a bitch earlier, might as well play the part…” you begin to back away from him but his hand grabs your wrist tightly and pulls you to him.

“I don’t think so,” his eyes darken as he speaks to you in a commanding tone. “Get on your knees.”

“Make me.”

Tama grabs your shoulders, shoving you down and undoing his pants to free himself. His cock hits his stomach as he pulls his boxers down, veins prominently detailing the thick shaft as precum leaks from the swollen tip. You look up at him through your lashes, Tama taking a mental picture of the sight of your doe eyes making eye contact with his. To him, the sight of you peering up at him with bruised lips, mere inches away from having your mouth on him was the sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed. You give him a wink and wrap your hand around him, spitting on his dick and slowly stroking it. He groans when you touch him, weaving his fingers into your hair. Your tongue slowly trails from base to tip, tracing the outlines of his veins and giving kitten licks to the swollen head, making him shiver.

“Mmm, fuck Y/N, quit teasin’,” he moaned, gripping your hair harder. You didn’t listen, continuing your actions until he tugs your head back to look at him, a gasp slipping from your mouth and allowing him to slide his tip inside. “You wanna play, huh? Fine by me, baby, let’s play.” He pushes your head slowly down his length, forcing you to relax your jaw and throat to open yourself up to him. You feel his cock hit the back of your throat and gag, eliciting a groan from him as your throat tightens around him. “Mmm, you think you’re so big and bad, ain’t so big now with this dick down your throat, huh?” You moan around his cock, your eyes watering as he thrusts himself in your mouth. He fucks your throat violently, his hips bucking at an unrelenting pace as tears stream your face and you choke on him. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath but continues to stroke himself as he looks down at you. “Look at you, you’re a mess. Such a fuckin’ slut f’me, chokin’ on my cock.” You whine at his words, you had never been one for name calling but the way it glided off his tongue made you weak in the knees. “Oh, you like that, huh? C’mere, you wanna be my slut so bad imma fuck you like one.” He lifts you back to your feet, kneeling down and taking off your bottoms, leaving you in your panties. He moves them to the side, collecting your wetness with his fingers. “Damn, baby girl, I did all this? You’re a fuckin’ mess for me,” he smirked.

“Tama, I swear to God…”

“Nah, you wanted to play earlier, remember? Now it’s my turn.”

“Tama…”

“Whatchu want, hmm? Imma need a little more convincing than that, sweetheart.” You whined and laid your head against the door, eyes gluing shut as his fingers teased close to your aching core but would never quite touch it. 

“Please…” you mumbled softly.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What were you sayin’?” He smirked, loving how desperate you were for him.

“Fuck, Tama, please. Please, just fuckin’ touch me alre- oh fuckkk.” His tongue making contact with your dripping folds cut you short, your eyes rolling back as his tongue ravaged your pussy. He moaned as he lapped at you, the vibration sending chills throughout your body. He lifts his head and blows cool air on your clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud, making you cry out his name and tangle your hands in his hair. He continued to assault your pussy with his tongue, and it wasn’t long before your legs were shaking underneath him.

“S-shit, Tama I-” He stops his movements, slowly rising back to his feet and giving you a sinister look. 

“Oh, you thought I was gonna let you cum so easily?” He turns you around, pressing your front against the cool surface of the door. “Nah, baby, you cum when I let you.” His tip pokes at your entrance before pushing its way in, the thickness of his cock filling you instantly. He places a hand on the side of your head, pushing it into the door as he pounds into you mercilessly. You moan his name loud, unable to control yourself as Tama fully dominates you.

“Fuckk, such a pretty lil’ slut f’me. Takin’ me so well.. you love this dick don’t you, baby girl? Tell Daddy how much you love his cock.” He continues to fuck you hard, your skin slapping echoing the room. “I- I, oh fuck, s-so good. I-”

“That’s it, mama, let the whole fuckin’ arena know who’s fuckin’ you this good.” He grabs your hair and pulls, arching your back and he slams his hips into you. You cry out his name, the new angle hitting your spot in all the right ways. You know you’re close- your pussy tightens around him and he groans. “Lost that attitude, didn’t you? All it took was to fill you full of good dick and you shut right up… fuck, baby, so fuckin’ tight f’me. Squeezing the fuck outta my dick. Keep that shit up and imma fill this pussy up.” 

“P-please..”

“Oh, you dirty fuckin’ slut, you want that, don’t you?” You whimper in response. “Imma give that shit to you baby, gotta cum for me first. C’mon, ma, nut all over this dick.” His hips drive into you deeper than before, daring you to come undone, and you do. You cum hard, your vision turning white and your limbs shaking violently as you release all over him. Your pussy tightens one last time and Tama curses your name, snapping his hips into you and releasing deep inside your pussy.  He stills inside you, allowing his cum to completely fill you as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. He plants kisses on the side of your neck, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. After a moment he pulls out of you, reaching down to your panties and moving them back in place, trapping his cum inside. You two rest for a moment, skin to skin as he holds you in his arms, the both of you stuck in a blissful trance until a loud knocking raps from the other side of the door. 

“Aye, y’all make up yet? Got a segment to get ready for, we’re coming in.” 

Shit.

[halfwayhearted]

please do a part two of es por ti if ur not busy!! and mayhaps in a specific situation where they get in an arguement and fem!reader talks to one of the guys and he recalls a moment where hector talked about you and it ends where hector’s freaking out and then reader is just like 🫂🫂🫂

thank u!! i love ur work btw 💝

Compartir — Héctor Fort.

Pairing: Héctor Fort x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a small argument with your boyfriend, you’re trying not to show you’re upset around him and his friends. Thankfully, one of his friends noticed and shared stories about Héctor talking about you. You weren’t so upset after that.

Word Count: 590+

Disclaimer/s — Mentions of an argument, just comfort/fluff.

A/N: HI, HI, HI. I LOVE YOU BAAAD, THANK YOU. AND. AND, Héctor Fort if you can hear me please. Please… save us 😭😭 Also, there’s no need to read Es Por Ti before this one, it can just be read as a oneshot! Whatever you want to do :3 !!!

It really wasn’t that hard to just… communicate. Was it? No! No it wasn’t. So you didn’t quite understand why Héctor couldn’t, especially when it involved him being injured. “It’s just a strain, I’m fine!” He’d say, but you’d still like to be aware.

Walking slightly behind him, you keep your gaze trained on his leg, just making sure there’s no limp. He told you there wasn’t… you didn’t listen.

The boy glances over his shoulder, lets out a sigh, and mutters your name, “What’re you doing?”

“Just—” you paused with a frown, “Does it hurt?”

“I told you it feels fine. If it didn’t, you know I’d tell you.” Just as you’re about to interject, he cuts you off, “But I didn’t mention it in the first place, right? I’m sorry I didn’t. It wasn’t really a big deal.”

Your frown only seems to deepen at the sight of him looking away from you to greet his friends. Pau is the first to say hi, and you smile, “Hi, Pau.”

Next is… oh, Pau—Pau Victor. He waves and says his hellos before turning his attention back to Héctor, who’s in the middle of asking questions about their recent match from three days ago.

All you did was stand there. What else could you do while they talked about football? Sure, you’d usually join in, but with you already being upset…

Right. Yeah. Maybe not… perhaps another day!

Feeling a nudge to your shoulder, you lifted your head to meet Cubarsí’s gaze. His eyebrows pinch together when you don’t immediately smile at him, which was weird. Then, he speaks, “Want to hear about what Héctor here did the other day?”

Your interest was piqued within the first three words: “Of course. What did he do this time?”

“We were in the locker rooms, right?” He started, and you nodded. “We saw he got a new water bottle and asked where he got it from. I guess us asking that question pushed a button in his mind, and suddenly he was talking our ear off about—”

“Hey—wait, what are you guys talking about?”

Sparing him a glance, you shoot him a small smile while looking back at Pau, who’s trying oh-so-hard to refrain from giggling. “He talked our ear off about you, saying that you got it for him and that it was probably better than any other water bottle he’s ever had.” In the midst of talking, Héctor swipes a hand to the back of his head, making the boy before you laugh and dodge him.

It definitely doesn’t stop him from continuing! “Did you know that even after he’s done talking about you, he’ll find a way to bring something up that still has something to do with you?”

Your boyfriend groans, “You’ve told her this, Pau.”

“Because it’s true.” He retorted with a shit-eating grin. “I’m sorry! It was way too good not to share.”

All he does is huff and roll his eyes, making you lean toward him. Your hand slides over his hips as you hug him loosely. “Didn’t know you liked talking about me so much. It’s flattering, really!”

“Uh-huh,” he grumbled. “Can you blame me?”

That elicits a smile to grace your lips, and you squeeze him one more time. “I guess not. No.”

Héctor hums, his arm moving to rest over your shoulders. You two stay like that, conversing with his friends and having a good time. It wasn’t how you thought it’d go… you were happy that it did.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[cherryhak]

Always - Leehan

.pairing : Kim Leehan x reader

.++ : bestfriend!leehan comforting reader who’s going through a somewhat depressive episode (depression is not specifically mentioned but reader is clearly going through something), mention of his real name, lowkey angst with a happy (?) ending, crying, proofread once

.warnings : mentions of “wanting to leave”, sensitive topics, hints to depression but could be interpreted however you want it to, hints to su!c!dal thoughts (not directly mentioned), maybe grammar i wrote this at 1am (let me know if i missed anything!!)

.wc : 840

head resting against the cold floor as tears streamed down your face continuously, head throbbing and breath ragged you almost didn’t hear the voice calling out your name from the other side of the door. Through blurry, teary eyes, you could see the door to your bedroom opening, feet approaching your trembling body on the floor, knees dropping next to your figure before a hand softly landed on your shoulder.

« Y/n » the buzzing in your ear finally stopped and you immediately recognized the owner of the voice. Looking up, your bloodshot eyes met with the worried ones of your best friend, Kim Donghyun.

His body repositioned properly on the ground before his hands lifted your head up and laid it on his lap as carefully as possible, making sure you were resting comfortably.

« It’s going to be okay » he said as his hand traced shapes on your back in an attempt to sooth you.

« No it’s not, » you managed to whisper loud enough for him to hear « it’s never going to be »

« I promise it will. Take a breath for me »

« I’m so tired Leehan » you shakily exhale « i don’t think i can take it anymore » your voice was hoarse, deprived of all emotions.

It was not his first time seeing you in this state nor was it the first time you spoke those words but this time it felt different, as if you were really at your limits and the fear of losing you was taking over his system.

« You’re strong Y/n » he quietly but sincerely spoke, a hand making its way to your hair. « Don’t let the voices win, you’re stronger than they are »

« But they’re right » you croaked out

« No they’re not »

« Leehan im so sorry »

His heart dropped. What were these words supposed to mean at this very moment ? What were you sorry for ? What were you planning to do ?

He knew better than to let his panic through so he asked you softly ; « sorry for what ? »

« For all these years, » you started, fresh tears coming out of your eyes once again « im sorry you have to do this,» you sniffled « im destroying you just like everyone else »

« Y/n no » his voice came out soft despite his tone being firm. He will not let you think such thoughts. « I do this because i care about you. I want you to get better and i know you can. I know its hard right now but you need to hold on a little longer, please »

You stayed silent. Did you really have the strength to hold on a little longer ? You did not have anything to fight for anymore. The only good thing in your life was Donghyun but your mind kept telling you that his life would be so much better without you in it. You were just a burden.

Your lack of response increased his panic tenfold.

« Y/n please » he almost begged.

He knew exactly what you were thinking in this moment. « please you have to fight, for me »

More tears made their way down your face. You didn’t know what to think anymore. You loved him, you really did, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that you were destroying him along with yourself. You hate to think about the constant pressure he must feel to keep you happy, the way he has to handle you carefully or else you would break, how you always end up in this very situation, crying in his arms telling him how much you want to leave.

« Y/n i need you with me, if you leave i wouldn’t forgive myself. I know how hard it is for you right now but please stay for me. I swear better days will come. »

« Im destroying you Leehan. » you insisted

« No you’re not. I chose to stay. I’ll show you that life is worth living as long as im by your side, please. »

You sighed, a sigh filled with exhaustion but also confusion. What should you do ? Should you give life yet another chance ? Should you let him show you ?

You took a deep breath in, focusing on the way his hands were brushing through your hair. Leehan was truly the only one able to ground you during those episodes of yours, his presence alone calmed you down.

« Will you stay ? » you asked

« Always, » he sighed in relief at your answer « I stayed all these years i am not going to leave, i promised you »

« Thank you for everything » these were the last words you spoke before the exhaustion took over and your mind drifted to a place of rare peacefulness, one you could only reach when Leehan was around.

✿ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏʜᴀᴋ

[mythalism]

Do you find yourself in almost a state of mourning/grief with datv? I’m literally in an almost emotional distress over it. All summer I built up insane defensiveness due to all the grifter hate train bullshit brewing for it with a dose of insane excitement since I’ve been a DA girlie since Origins 2009 release date and I just… don’t know how to process my feelings?!?

Due to the pre game discourse I almost feel programmed to fight criticism for it and during a new play through I keep having “holy shit that quest was so dialed in” followed immediately by “what the hell did I just listen to” and yet my brain is still in copium mode.

DA fandom discourse has always been poisoned with garbage takes, ESPECIALLY since Solas got introduced with DAI (I’m sorry, I truly believe his die hard haters have the reading comprehension of a peanut) but the fact that there is still a huge pocket of the fandom that couldn’t even get the point of the solas/mythal dynamic when it was LITERALLY SPOONFED TO US kind of… scares me about the future of narrative design in general.

Absolutely development hell and reboot and lack of time to truly sink into the intended story beats from start to finish played a major role. The skeleton remains of bullshit multiplayer factions are here too. But holy shit. Is it just me or does everything else utterly scream “chronically online” to me.

Sorry I have no idea where I’m going with this. I just needed to yap thoughts that weren’t just in the void. I don’t know how to reconcile getting my dream romance ending I waited 10 years for alongside a narrative that doesn’t even make sense leading to that happy ending.

i wouldn't say im experiencing full on grief but i do know exactly what you mean and i sympathize with your experience a lot. i think it might be because ive been in a corner of fandom that has been very critical of bioware and so i honestly had extremely low expectations of veilguard up until the summer. i thought we would NEVER get the game, and if we did get it, i was sure it would be a fucking trainwreck after 10 years of "[insert x developer here] leaves bioware after 20+ years!". my personal bar was truly on the floor, in the deep roads, in the heart of a titan, in the void etc etc.

it does bother me the way it was marketed because honestly i would call it duplicitous. not in the "false advertising" legal sense of the world but in the way it feels like the devs are (and were) very aware of the flaws in this game and more importantly were very aware of how it would be received by long-time fans. and of course i am aware that developers have little to no say whatsoever in marketing, and its also clear that vg's marketing was an absolute mess of conflicting directions considering that reveal trailer that honestly set the game up to fail (i truly believe the grifting and general, casual reception would not have been so negative if they had used the release-date trailer instead) and the way they immediately had to drop 20 minutes of gameplay to reassure people that they werent releasing dragon age: fortnite LMFAO. but i think that mismatch actually tells us a lot about the similarly contradictory tone and writing in different parts of the game, and the direction that EA seemingly pushed for (as exemplified by their attempts to market it as... whatever that was) and the game bioware was attempting to make (which would have undoubtedly been flawed but probably more in-line with past games).

but, this duplicitous marketing was not just EA, and i do feel that the devs played up the game, and specifically our attachment to past characters and franchise entries, in a way that was a bit unfair when you have the context of their comments post-release about how aware they are of it's shortcomings. and i get it, these people have quite literally no choice. they have to participate in the marketing of this game, it's their job, they need to pay rent and eat etc etc like i get it. but just because they have good reason to play on their fan's attachment to their writing via their tweets and comments in dev q&a's doesn't mean i cant say it left a bad taste in my mouth. i think trick being completely absent from the entire marketing cycle is really interesting in this context, lol. i have no proof of there being a correlation, it was just something i found interesting this summer, and that i find even more interesting now, especially considering their role as lead writer.

it definitely felt like the things they chose to show and the things they chose not to were designed specifically to grip fans and rile us up, and though it worked for their pre-sales, i think it actually hurt them in the end because if they had not gotten expectations up so high by dangling varric and solas and morrigan and the inquisitor in front of us like carrots, we probably would not all have been so disappointed! i sure wouldnt be. remember i thought this game was going to fucking blow not even 8 months ago! for me it was precisely the summer build up that left me so bereft in the end. if i had played the game completely blind id still think it was a flop, but i wouldn't feel absolutely bamboozled and pissed off in the way i and a lot of others seem to feel.

legend @scaryanneee said once that the entire game feels apologetic, in both its writing and design and that has stuck with me ever since she said it. the whole game feels like a big "sorry it wasnt better", and even more so due to the release of the artbook filled with ideas that they knew we'd like better, and even MORE so with the game's lack of denuvo or other anti-piracy software, allowing us to data-mine and see the skeleton left behind at some point. idk a lot about game development but i am under the impression that post-release content that feels like a desperate apology to fans + tweets about how you fought and lost that then get deleted are not the norm????

its truly a mess. but i do not feel hopeless, for some reason. gaming is a mess and i think you are right to fear for the future of narrative design but although there are always people who will bootlick to cope, there are also beloved haters like us who will always complain, and not out of transphobia or a desire to grift, but out of a genuine love for these games and the stories they tell. i wish the reviews had been a bit more discerning and critical, but i hope the message will get through to bioware and EA eventually. i also think that tbh, if this game came out 3 years after bg3 rather than 1, it would look VERY different. i would not even really consider myself a bg3 fan and i have a lot of criticisms of it (lol who's surprised!!!) it is objectively a move in the right direction for the gaming industry for a variety of reasons, and i do believe its many accolades have sent a message to greedy execs everywhere.

[gairfowl]

I’ve been thinking a lot about this scene from Episode 8.

It’s very brief, but there’s so much food for thought in it. It’s the only scene in the series where Jopson has more than a fleeting exchange of words with anyone other than Crozier, and juxtaposing these two specific characters against each other is so heavy with potential.

Jopson’s character is defined by loyalty and duty – to Crozier specifically, and to his job more generally. Hickey has no sense of loyalty or duty. His character is defined by self-preservation and the desire to survive at all costs.

At this point in the story, Hickey despises Crozier. By extension, he probably despises Jopson, too. Likewise, Jopson, who is invariably cheerful and polite when around officers, has nothing but contempt for Hickey.

The dialogue’s very brief:

Hickey: Why is Sergeant Tozer being held? Jopson: You’re lucky you weren’t just shot, Mr Hickey. Hickey: Do you have a sudden gift for aim, Mr Jopson? Jopson: Everything we ate growing up started with a gun. My aim’s fine, Mr Hickey. I’ve shot smaller hawks than you.

Jopson’s smiling when he delivers that last line. He’s amused that Hickey thinks he’s soft, that he doesn’t know how to handle a rifle. He’s in control of the situation.

Hickey’s face is briefly emotionless before he looks away and rearranges it into a smirk. I read another post on here recently – can’t remember the OP's name, sorry – that suggests Hickey smirks when he’s embarrassed, and I think there’s something to that. When he’s feeling powerless he can’t allow himself to feel fear or anger; he deflects it all into appearing amused by the situation. It’s how he regains control, by not giving anyone the satisfaction of rattling him.

From here I’m just extrapolating from what we’re given, but I feel this tells us a lot about both of them.

My headcanon for Hickey is that he grew up in extreme poverty and a highly precarious environment. He was an orphan raised in an institution, or lived in an abusive and unstable household. Either way, he missed out on love and stability at a critical developmental stage, and it damaged his sense of empathy. He is not completely unable to care about others – he asks about Tozer, he acts to save people from the fire at Carnivale – but it’s always secondary to survival, and he finds the idea of devotion to others a bit pathetic.

We know Hickey resents the officers. He resents Neptune for being a dog that, in his opinion, gets treated better than he does. So I imagine he also resents Jopson, but it’s resentment mixed with contempt and disgust. Rather than allow himself to feel intimidated, he can easily move those uncomfortable feelings around to “this man is beneath me” – Hickey would never degrade himself by being a servant, especially not to someone he holds in such low esteem as Crozier, and he takes the opportunity to make himself feel better by getting a dig in.

However, Jopson isn’t easily intimidated. Mainly because he’s got the gun, but also because of how he sees himself. My headcanon here is that although Jopson is also from a humble background, he was probably better off than Hickey. And more importantly, he was loved. He had people around him who modeled kindness and respect for others, and probably emphasised duty as a core moral value.

He doesn’t see service as degrading. He takes pride in it. He has a deep respect for Crozier, and having just been given a very unconventional battlefield promotion of sorts, he knows Crozier respects him too. That’s a source of strength for him. Plus, you don’t really need to go deep to consider why he’d hate Hickey; the little bastard just murdered Irving.

In the next scene, it’s Jopson who walks Hickey to the gallows and loops the noose around his neck, and he looks damn satisfied doing it. Barely a minute, all told, but damn, I just love the potential of Most Loyal Guy vs Least Loyal Guy / Good Boy vs Absolutely Terrible Boy / Teacher’s Pet vs The Shittiest Kid In School. (Couldn’t decide on best shorthand for it so you get all three, lol.)

BONUS ROUND -

You know what else makes this fascinating?

Fucking GIBSON. Gibson and Jopson never interact on screen and I wish they had because Gibson is the other shared connection between Jopson and Hickey.

Gibson is a steward, but he has no particular attachment to the officers he serves. He, not Hickey, is the first crew member we see discussing mutiny. Whereas Jopson seems to belong in officers’ country, Gibson is almost always depicted outside it.

Gibson and Jopson presumably cross paths all the time as Terror stewards, but we have no idea what they think of each other. Does Gibson envy Jopson’s closeness with Crozier or does he, like Hickey, think being attached to the person you’re serving is pathetic? Does Jopson have any suspicions about Gibson’s relationship with Hickey or his growing dissatisfaction with Crozier’s leadership? I don’t know, the canon doesn’t go there! But it’s interesting to think about, right?

[eliotquillon]

i have to imagine that at some point during chase and cameron’s fwb era, chase went back to aus for a trip. what about a time zones/jealous cam drabble?

sorry this took me FOREVER and is also not really jealous cam but more…pining cam?? argh. but i tried :) set between fetal position and airborne

In the end, it isn’t House who goes on vacation after they discharge Emma Sloan. It’s Chase; he walks into work one morning, a rare day when they’re not both riding in together, shoulders hunched and face pale, and says, “House. I need to talk to you.”

“You know I hate it when you do that,” House complains, but he must see what Cameron sees: the sunken gaze, the tense fingers. Who died, Cameron thinks, but his parents are both dead already. He leads Chase to his office and shuts the blinds. Cameron looks, and looks, and looks. Chase does not look back.

*

“I’m going out of town for a few days,” Chase tells her at lunch. They are attracting stares: the whole hospital knows they’re sleeping together now, no thanks to House. No thanks to me, Cameron thinks, a little guilty, and pushes another forkful of salad into her mouth. “Can you check on my stuff while I’m gone?”

“Out of town?” Cameron presses, selfishly wanting; she regrets it as soon as she says it. Chase presses his lips together, pushes his fries sullenly around his plate. Cameron is all too aware of the choreography. In two hours, the nurses will all be whispering about the big break-up—false for all the obvious reasons, but also because there’s nothing to break up. “What happened?”

“I have to go to Melbourne,” Chase says flatly. “There’s an issue with my dad’s will.”

“But I thought he cut you out of it,” Cameron frowns. She doesn’t mean to be insensitive with her bluntness. She only means to clarify; she had been shell-shocked, when he spat it out bluntly all those months ago, not at the specifics but at the mere concept of it. It’s the sort of thing you hear about, vague family gossip about a friend of a friend, but surely, Cameron had thought, it didn’t really happen. Surely people—mothers, fathers, great-aunts—were never really so cruel as to deliberately strike someone out with their last act in this world, not for no good reason. Chase spears a fry, and does not eat it.

“He did,” he says heavily. “Including the stuff he had no right to cut me out of. Can you do it?”

No, Cameron thinks. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it. I’d be a sobbing mess, not coming into work every day to flirt with a colleague and snipe at Foreman and save people’s lives. Not casually discussing it over lunch. But that isn’t what Chase is asking.

“Of course,” she says, “just leave me the key.”

*

She gets into the routine of it easily enough. It helps that she knows her way around Chase’s apartment already—though, of course, she knows the bedroom best. Cameron stops by every evening on her way home from work to air the place out, sort the mail, check there’s nothing spoiling in the refrigerator. Chase left at the last minute; there are still clothes in his laundry hamper, a towel on the bathroom floor, electronics still plugged in. When she turns on the TV out of idle interest, it is automatically tuned to a sports channel. Cameron laughs, and the way the sound rings out across the empty room makes her feel absurdly guilty.

It would be so easy to pry. She has the experience, after all—years of snooping around patients’ homes, always careful to put things back where she found them, and she’s far more familiar with Chase’s habits and floorplan than she is theirs—and, secretly, she has the desire. Without him here to distract her with his hands or mouth or terrible post-sex cooking, it is easier to admit her own curiosity to herself. It is easier to admit that she wants to know him beyond the scope of what he has already told her. But easier isn’t the same as easy. Cameron closes windows and throws out expired milk. She ignores the bedroom. She always leaves the key behind.

*

It isn’t that she misses him, at work. It’s simply lacking for a case—House is due to fly to Singapore the day after Chase is scheduled to return—and there’s scarcely anything to do. She has brief, cordial lunches with Foreman, spends the mornings doing clinic duty and the afternoons catching up on House’s permanently-backlogged charting. It is all very companionable; she has always liked Foreman well enough, save for the times he has given her reason to be annoyed, and without Chase to wind him up Foreman seems to return the sentiment. He only tries to broach the subject once.

“About you and Chase,” he starts, and Cameron’s pen leaves a dent on her chart.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. It’s the wrong answer: she should’ve said, there’s nothing to talk about. It’s what she means to say, but for some reason her mouth won’t form the words. Foreman sighs, and his eyebrows make a grand leap of frustration, but he just nods.

“Don’t bring me into it,” he warns, and this time Cameron doesn’t bother trying to correct him.

*

Melbourne is sixteen hours ahead of New Jersey. It is natural, Cameron thinks, to wonder what he might be doing. It is natural, given the circumstances, to wonder if he’s alright. It is not natural to wonder if he misses her, but she finds herself doing that anyway. His voicemail beeps with messages; the sound of the dialtone makes her so irritated that she has to fight the urge to delete them all at once.

*

“Thanks,” Chase says when he comes back to work, jetlagged and small-looking and yet, Cameron hopes, a little pleased to see her. “You didn’t have to clean up after me.”

She didn’t mean to. She didn’t even want to, but her hands were idle and his phone kept beeping and once, while she was intercepting a delivery he must’ve forgotten about, she heard a strange woman’s voice ask about him on the speakerphone, words garbled through the closed hallway door. In Cameron’s experience, it is easier to resist temptation if there is something to be tempted away from. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Did everything turn out alright?”

“More or less,” Chase shrugs. He leans close; he still smells a bit like stale plane air and, Cameron imagines, a certain kind of foreign-ness. “Come over tonight?” he asks in a hopeful undertone.

Cameron is sick of his apartment. She would rather not examine why. “Come to mine,” she says, decisive, and rises to greet Foreman.

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by ...

- alwaysxlarrie -

[1]

Sparks of euphoria shot through his veins, which made it very hard for him to refrain from making loud noises, such as shouting victoriously; he didn’t want to reagitate Harry’s migraine. He resigned to just give Harry a wide smile, poked his dimple, and told him he was happy to help, instead. It was a far cry from how he actually wanted to react, but. Such was life. 

As he peeked over at the dry erase board, he made a vow to, as long as he was able to, always have a sweet message written on it for Harry.

“you’ve got a smile that shines as bright as a full moon on a dark night. i hope you never run out of reasons to smile.”

[2]

When Harry goes back to the library a few hours later to see if he’d left his headphones on the table, he doesn’t end up finding them. Instead, he finds something much, much better. He finds a note from Louis and one of Louis’ hoodies. The note says ‘don’t worry, curly, i have your headphones! they’re safe and sound with me :) i’ll bring them to the next meeting, no worries. I got you xo’

So, no, Harry won’t be able to use his headphones for the next week. And yes, it will suck major ass. 

But. 

He’ll have Louis’ hoodie that’s absolutely magnificently coated in his delicious scent, a handwritten note from Louis, and him telling Harry that he’s got him. 

Harry knows that it can’t be love; it’s too early and too fast for it to be love, but. 

It’s definitely something.

[3]

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he scratches the tip of his nose as he offers, “um, yes. That’s me. I’m sorry, have we met?”

The man bites his bottom lip as he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’m Louis, it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, as well.” Harry reaches a hand out, figuring that even if he doesn’t know who this beautiful man is, it would be a felony to not offer his hand. In marriage. Or a formal handshake. Either or, really.

When their hands touch, a spark shoots up Harry’s hand straight to his spine, making him shiver. Louis seems to notice the effect their handshake has on Harry when he raises his eyebrow. After he squeezes his hand one last time, Louis releases it and puts his hands in his pockets.

[4]

“Do you have any fruits you want in it specifically, or are you okay with all of them going in?” Harry asked. His eyes were on Louis, and his fingers were already moving to open the tupperware with excited impatience.

“Honestly I’m sure whatever you decide to give me will be perfect, bub.” Louis assured him before winking and darting off, yelling to Niall that he wanted to get a few more minutes of practice in before they sat down for a proper snack. 

Harry’s fingers were trembling from the rush of adrenaline, scrambling to find the perfect pieces from each baggie to add to Louis’ little fruit salad; there couldn’t be any black seeds in the watermelon pieces, no brown on the apple slices, no wrinkly grapes, and none of the honeydew melon could be too hard. To Harry, the salad would be Louis’ introduction of how good of a friend and provider Harry could be, and therefore, it had to be perfect.

Answers below...

[1] i swear i could give you everything

Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 each morning. But he did have to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though. Talk about self sabotage.

[2] you give me feelings that i adore

Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

[3] you are my destiny (you are the reason that i still believe)

Being a new employee at a company means that you have to learn to brush off the shitty bosses, shitty coworkers, and not getting the credit you actually deserve for things. At least, that's been Harry Styles' experience. Coworkers who steal his ideas in pursuit of getting praise and a raise, and a boss who's indifferent at best and condescending at worst. Harry has learned to expect this reality for the foreseeable future. He's accepted it.

What he hadn't expected was for Louis Tomlinson to waltz into their company, and his life, and change around everything he thought he knew about fate. -- A Cinderella AU.

[4] wanna wake up with you and say baby let's do it all over again

“Alright, I did some Googling and I think I’ve figured out what your thing is.” Niall announced as he walked into their kitchen.

“My thing?”

“Sorry, is that an offensive way to refer to it?”

“I mean, I don’t know. I’d probably be able to give you a better answer if I knew what you were talking about, though.”

“Harry, it’s okay. This is a safe space.”

“No, it’s not. You throw cheese puffs at me any time I walk around naked.”

“Okay.” Niall tilted his head in acknowledgement, then corrected himself. “It’s a safe space for things I deem acceptable.”

“Of course.” Harry rolled his eyes. “So, what’s the thing?”

“Your service,” Niall flailed his hands in the air for a few seconds, “thing.”

“My service,” Harry paused to mimic Niall’s hand movements, “thing?”

“Yes.”

[grimmsbride]

KINGDOM HEARTS [ daisuke / reader ]

sneaking contraband on the tulpar was totally worth it, especially when you got to share it with the person you’ve been pining for.

tags / pre-crash | reader & daisuke are the same age & she is also swansea’s intern (original i know). | not connected to the past daisuke fics | heavy mentions of weed but more specifically weed pens. i know it’s not accurate to the timeline nor the job, but if you’re looking for complete accuracy in a smutfic i don’t know what to tell you | weed sex | sloppy oral sex | fingering | daisuke is heavily ooc. this is done purposely given he’s literally smoking. if that’s an issue i’m sorry | soft-dom daisuke | hes very mouthy & kind of desperate | mutual pining | coworkers to more?.. | unrealistic descriptions of weed & sex | etc

notes / given it was mentioned daisuke liked to party back home (and also drink) i thought him smoking was right up his alley. also i feel like with weed or alcohol he definitely isn’t as insecure? idk how to word it but yeah that was my thought process. as always please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes

You never thought you would be ontop of a freighter, dedicating time to listening to some old man drone about machinery whilst in the middle of space. But alas, here you were; inside a ship known as the Tulpar, under the watchful gaze of Pony Express. You should be thankful, not everyone has the same opportunities as you. Back home, you could name quite a few people that would kill for your position.

You couldn’t resist your reluctance, though. Leaving everything behind for several months was more stressful than people believed. A constant routine, consistently having to be proper given this wasn’t home— it was work. Not having your usual comforts of tv, the outside, hell even your vibrator.

At least you remembered the most important thing of all— your weed pen.

It wasn’t a hard task, as you were given the most natural hiding place above the waist; and you were able to sneak extra cartridges between your clothes. A full-proof plan, really. The only issue was finding places to smoke it.

You couldn’t always hole up in your room, duties called after all. So usually you took a few hits in the bathroom, using the excuse of steam to mask the smoke. Or other times you would take a quick hit when the living room was free; the blown up screen a perfect trance for your little high.

No one seemed the wiser, not even your fellow intern; Daisuke, someone you’ve grown to enjoy being around. Despite being the same age you simply weren’t so sure he would be into that type of thing. He looked far too.. innocent. Surely an annoying term to use for a grown man, but still— what else could you say?

Like any other day it was packed with chores, tasks stacking on-top of each other with no end in sight. You tried to be as friendly as possible, but with your secret craving and exhaustion playing at the back of your mind you were sure you came off a little snappy at times.

You would apologize later, possibly blaming it on the stuffy feeling of the ship or worse — your period.

Either way, much to your pleasure, the day had ended; leaving you in the comfort of your bedroom. Sitting on-top of the plush sheets you leaned over to sift through your nightstand, fingers soon coming into contact with a slender, metallic piece. You rose, bringing your pen with you and looking at the contraption with such love.

Your last piece of sanity. As dramatic as it seemed.

Routinely you brought the mouthpiece to your lips, forming around it and taking a slow hit whilst your thumb pressed against the button. Pulling it away, you allowed the smoke to sit— eyes closing to really take it in.

So focused on your relaxation you hadn’t even realized footsteps were approaching your bedroom until it was too late.

“Hey [Name] you wanna play this board game? Anya do—“ The door was opening before you could even respond, causing panic to rush towards your chest. In the midst you began to cough, throat straining as ugly wails escaped; struggling to catch your breath.

Through a blurry gaze, your eyes landed on the culprit of your chaos; spotting Daisuke glancing at you oddly for a moment.

“Are you uh… Do I smell weed?”

“No!”

You managed to let out, followed by wet gasps. Very, very convincing. Your attention turned to the water bottle on-top of your nightstand, snatching it quickly and taking a swig. The cool liquid soothed your throat just a bit, allowing you to relax from the attack.

Slowly you calmed down, taking a deep breath and releasing; all under the gaze of Daisuke, who sported a small grin.

“I know what weed smells like [Name]. And how weed coughs sound.”

You slowly set your water bottle back down, eyes taking the other in with a harsh squint. For a moment the two of you stared at each other silently before you sucked your teeth, letting out a whisper-yell of close the door!

Daisuke was quick to listen, shutting the door closed and crossing your bedroom in record time. He found a spot on the edge of your bed, watching in awe as you pulled a thin device from underneath your sheets. He giggled gently, as if already riding the cloud; leaning his head onto his shoulder.

“How did you even sneak that in?”

“I have my ways Daisuke.” You winked, attention turning to your beloved weed pen. It was a simple white color with a pink rim around the actual button. Small but deadly, given the amount that was inside the device. Plus it didn’t help you had switched cartridges recently.

Your focus then turned to the man, “Wanna hit?”

Daisuke’s eyebrows rose, a nervous laugh escaping him before nodding.

“Hell yeah.”

He leaned over, grasping the pen from your fingers delicately and glancing at it. The intern spun it between his fingers for a moment, gaze turning back to you the moment you spoke;

“You know how to take it, right? Don’t waste my weed.”

“Watch..,” Daisuke brought the piece up to his mouth, lips wrapping around it gently as his thumb pressed against the circular button. With ease he was breathing it in, pulling the pen back— holding the smoke for a moment, before releasing it.

“..— See? I know what I’m doing.”

He certainly does.. You thought to yourself, suddenly growing a bit hot. You sat up, legs crossing as you reached for your pen.

“I’m impressed, didn’t take you for a smoker.”

Daisuke shrugged, a lazy smile on his face as he laid across your bed. His elbow dug into the plush mattress, a soft cheek resting to his palm.

“I only did it recreationally, at parties and stuff.”

You hummed in response, slightly entertained by the reveal of such information. Daisuke had subtly mentioned before his activities but you didn’t always believe him. He just didn’t seem like the type. More like a little fawn desperate to gain the approval of his superior, not some party animal. But, looks were deceiving after all.

Especially when said fawn was hitting your pen way better than you did.

You pressed your lips to the pen, tapping it there for a moment before a question crept from your throat;

“You know any tricks?”

Daisuke pursed his lips a bit, slowly shaking his head. You were quick to smile, bringing your finger up.

“I know this one, watch.”

With that you were taking a hit, bringing the pen down to your lap. Daisuke focused on you, watching intently as you.. mouthed? He hadn’t a clue what you were attempting to do, nor was he sure you did either— given you suddenly pushed the smoke from your mouth, quick coughs escaping you.

The man was quick to laugh, grinning ear to ear as a flush of red spread across tanned skin. You struggled for breath, little tears threatening to spill as you held your finger back up.

“I got it, I got it!”

You were desperate to show off, even if it risked getting far too high. You lifted the pen back up, taking another strong hit before dropping it back to your lap. You started off strong, breathing the smoke in— struggling not to giggle when you heard Daisuke small sounds of encouragement.

Yet as strong as you started you failed all the same, doubling over to cough into your blankets; cheeks hot the moment you noticed Daisuke practically falling off your bed with laughter.

“How were you worried about me wasting it?”

“Shut up!” You huffed, though snorting. You could nearly curse yourself for not sharing your little secret sooner. As much as smoking was a delight, it was even better doing it with someone else. Especially someone as fun as Daisuke.

You slowly rose from your position, taking deep breaths to relax as you glanced at the man who was currently doing the same.

“Okay, so.. I don’t know a trick.”

Daisuke gave a really? expression, quickly raising his hands when you tossed a pillow in his direction. Pulling the plush item down to his lap with a playful huff, the man watched as you lifted the pen again.

“But.. I do know this one thing.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

You gave a playful smile, “Shotgunning. You know, passing smoke back and forth.”

His shoulders seemed to straighten, sitting up tall and laying his hands onto the pillow in his lap. An unreadable expression crossed his features, hands crossing to allow his fingers to glide across his silver rings.

“I know what that is.”

Your eyebrow rose, though silently taking in the information. Whether a buzz of jealousy or excitement trickled down your spine, you will never known; as it was quickly washed away with warmth. One such sensation that collected at the pit of your stomach the moment Daisuke reached over for the pen.

“It’ll be better if I do it first.”

The man softly explained, to your puzzled expression. You slowly nodded in turn, watching as he brought the pen to his mouth. A single moment passed before he even took a hit, maybe allowing you time to back out. But you didn’t, watching intently as the man sucked in the smoke— eyes flicking to you with slightly puffed cheeks.

That was your cue. You shuffled from your spot at the head of your bed, coming close enough that your knees were practically touching. You pressed down on the bed to steady yourself, lips parting carefully. Daisuke drew closer, just a breaths away, yet lips not touching. His eyes glanced from your own to your lips, a soft grumble of disapproval rolling at the back of his throat.

Before you could think you felt his fingers tracing your chin, a thumb pressing against the space.

“Like this..” He said rather tight lipped, widening your mouth carefully. Once satisfied Daisuke blew the smoke from his mouth to your own, watching as the white cloud rolled in flowing tendrils, filling your senses the moment it made contact.

You sucked it in, shivering at the sensation and rather heated exchange. You’ve always imagined shotgunning to be rather.. intimate. You were sharing smoke with someone, after all. But, intimate just didn’t seem like a fitting word. At all. This was something beyond it, completely.

As the moment the smoke was touching your tongue, it was as if you could spot Daisuke’s thoughts sprawled across his forehead. Never mind the way those pretty, almond— slowly reddening eyes took you in far too intently.

You backed away a little, releasing a heavy breath straight from your chest. You glanced down before allowing your gaze to land upon the other intern, spotting his eyes already fixated upon you.

“You wanna go again?”

You tried not to nod so excitedly, but with the smoke clouding your focus and the absolute want running through your body— you were sure you looked like an idiotic bobble head. Daisuke either was too high to notice or decided against it anyway, as he was passing your pen back in record time, sitting up and watching.

You took the pen, mirroring his previous movements. Allowing the pen to fall in your lap after, you leaned a bit closer— just as Daisuke did the same. Only this time it was far too close. Your lips briefly touched, only for a moment almost unrecognizable. Yet, you both knew the other felt it.

You decided to ignore it. It meant nothing, right? Simply an accident bound to happen.

You parted your lips, a soft sound escaping as you blew the smoke into his mouth, watching Daisuke consume it eagerly. Sucking up each puffy white cloud under your watchful gaze, he allowed it to dance upon his tongue for a moment before blowing it right back into your mouth.

Just as he closed the distance between the two of you.

You groaned softly, eyes pinched closed as the high of the weed and his lips ran through your entire body. You felt it all the way from your head, to your toes; nerves on fire, as if ready to burst. You were quick to grab him, needing an anchor as the bold kiss quickly muddled your brain. Your fingers curled into his half-dyed hair, twirling soft tresses between the digits and tugging.

Daisuke whimpered right into your mouth, a sound that caused your legs to squeeze and eyebrows to furrow. You felt him moving for a moment before his hands were tracing your body; one finding your waist while the other gently grasped the back of your neck. There, with a tiny push, the man deepened the kiss— tugging you even closer by the waist.

Your arms stretched out, linking around his neck and meeting his eagerness wholeheartedly. You were pleasantly surprised by the sudden 180 of his personality. You especially didn’t take such a clueless, seemingly naive man to be such a good kisser.

But here you were, under his mercy— barely able to keep up with the sloppy lip locking. And with each squeeze of your waist, your mind was spiraling further and further. Again, you could only curse yourself for withholding the weed for this long.

“Wa..wanna touch you..” The words were pushed against your lips so messily you nearly hadn’t heard. Except, they fell from Daisuke’s mouth again; only this time not as muffled given he was pulling away from your lips. His forehead pressed against your own, alternating squeezes on your neck and waist, heavy breaths causing his chest to rise and fall.

“You wanna touch me?”

“So..so bad. I have for a while.” The words came out in drawl as if he was drunk rather than high, red eyes lifting from your lap to your own. “Please, let me?”

He was so desperate, Daisuke’s usual personality peeking through his high facade. The only thing missing was his hands clasped together and whimpers. It was a sight you enjoyed, devouring it greedily with your eyes.

Instead of speaking you slammed your lips back to his own, hands reaching to find his wrists. Once doing so you made his hands drag from your shoulders, down your tummy, hips, and thighs— back and forth, back and forth.. teasing him. It seemed to work as the kiss got even more desperate, his fingers twitching under your hold.

And the moment you released his wrists, Daisuke was all over you— only this time he had full control. The man made quick work of fitting his fingers underneath the shirt you wore, warm digits spanning across your soft stomach. They then rose, flinching the moment they came into contact with your naked breasts— yet eagerly grasping them; cold silver rings digging into your hot flesh.

You sighed into his mouth, grasping his arms and slowly lowering yourself onto your back, pulling him on-top of you. Little sparks of pleasure danced down your spine as he squeezed your breasts, pushing up your shirt to reveal your chest to the muddy air.

The two of you parted, a sticky string connecting your bottom lips together— which broke the moment his head lowered, lips finding a breast. A sloppy kiss was stamped right against your nipple, the swollen bud soon being enveloped by his warm mouth. You stifled a sweet moan, hands finding its place back in his hair, tugging as his tongue swept and circled your areola.

You felt spit trickle at the corner of his mouth from all the attention, sucks only becoming more ferocious as time passed. Caught up in the pleasure you hadn’t realized a hand was descending down your body, not until two fingers were tugging your pants enough that his hand fit through.

Daisuke’s fingers spread across your clothed cunt, finding the edge of your panties and tugging it to the side. There, he was free to spread you, revealing your sopping bud to his finger. He dragged his digit up and down for a moment before running little circles onto your clit.

“Dai..daisuke..—“ You whined softly, nails dragging against his scalp as your thighs twitched. “T—take my pants off, please!”

The man smiled right against your chest, though obliged and with your help, pushed your pants and underwear off your body and down to the bottom of the bed. Now free your legs were spreading easily, hissing as his thumb dragged across your clit whilst another digit circled your wet hole.

Daisuke lifted from your chest, watching with reddened eyes as his finger sunk in all the way to the knuckle. Your walls were warm, enveloping and sucking him in greedily. With each breath you were squeezing, making it just a bit hard for him to move. But, Daisuke didn’t plan to give up now, seeing as — with some effort — he was curling the finger, eyes flicking to your face the moment the prettiest moan fell from your lips.

“That felt good..?” The words fell out as a question more to himself rather than you and instead of waiting, the man repeated his action; only this time a little more confident. And once he received the reaction he was looking for — another breathy moan — Daisuke was more than happy to continue.

Your gasps quickly mixed in with the sounds of your wetness, spongy sounds that echoed with each push of his finger. Curling and fingering, you groaned the moment another digit crept, scissoring inside you. Your thighs were closing at this point, getting overwhelmed with pleasure. You’ve touched yourself while high and as fun as it was, this experience was completely different.

You were sensitive, every sensation on hundred with no chance of coming down. Daisuke’s only been playing with you for a moment and already you felt that familiar band deep in your stomach.

In the midst of your pleasure you hadn’t even realized your thighs were nearly shut until Daisuke quickly slid his free hand to your thigh, pushing and spreading you open.

“I wanna see.”

He said far too calmly, eyes flicking from your face and back to your pretty cunt. Daisuke couldn’t helped but be entranced, watching his fingers disappear and reappear, coated in your arousal. The man swore under his breath, nails dragging against your thigh. He wondered if.. you would let him get a taste? The thought alone nearly made him come in his pants, eating you out just seemed like the second best thing to sharing that weed with you.

Without thinking Daisuke’s face was lowering to your cunt, mouth parted as bated breath fanned against your slick slit. With no warning his tongue was stretching, licking at your bud— quickly glancing at your face for a reaction. He was pleased to see your glossy red eyes and swollen lips open as a pretty gasp escaped your throat. Your fingers tugged at his hair so desperately, back arching as the man’s tongue swiped against you once again— only dragging the thick muscle, allowing you to feel its entire length.

“Please, please..!” You hadn’t a clue why you were pleading, but it seemed Daisuke did— given he repeated that action once more, circling the tip of his tongue along your clit. Little tears threatened to spill from your eyes, hips lifting and grinding into his face; which only resulted in an encouraging squeeze on your thigh.

Moments of this intense pleasure passed before you were practically sitting up, struggling to stifle the harsh moan that escaped you. With a squeeze around his fingers you were coming undone, coating his face with your mess. Daisuke was far too happy to lap you up, cleaning you throughly and refusing to waste a single drop.

Eventually you had to push at his forehead to get him away, groaning as the sensitivity playing at your aching cunt. Reluctantly the man pulled away, pulling his fingers from within you and rubbing his hand across your thigh— soothing you.

“Hopefully you didn’t wake the others.” Daisuke hummed with a small grin, chuckling at the frown you sent his way. He moved to hover above you, leaning onto his forearm and planting a wet kiss to your lips. You mewled from your own taste; hands trailing to tickle the back of his neck.

“We should have done this a long time ago..”

You murmured softly, hearing his own grumble of approval. The kiss continued until you pulled away, hands trekking down to cover his cheeks.

“Daisuke.. as much as I want to continue.. I’m really, really hungry.”

Taking your words in for a moment, the man couldn’t help but release a short laugh, patting the side of your thigh as he sat up from his hovering.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

With that promise, Daisuke was adjusting his clothes before waltzing towards your bedroom door, opening and exiting — probably off to snatch something from the Tulpar’s kitchen.

You certainly hopped no one was awake to notice his red eyes and extremely wet face.

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Let It Snow

Cassian/Reader

Modern AU - holiday fluff

Word Count - 1.1k

Author's Notes - The prompts were pulled from this list by @avabrynne - specifically prompts #2 and #30 - holiday movie marathon and blanket fort. Also shout out to @strangergraphics for the super cute divider.

The commute home had frayed his last shred of weary patience. It seemed there had been some kind of wreck nearly every few miles in the beginning hours of the impending blizzard. By the time he had gotten home, night had fallen and Cassian had never been more glad to see his apartment door, but it was who was on the other side that he was most excited for.

He barely made it through the door before he was dropping his duffel bag in the entry hall and throwing his scarf over the hook on the wall. “Sorry I’m late but –.” He paused, taking in the sight before him.

You were sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, directly in his line of sight. Looking up from your project you smiled brightly at him.

“Hey baby! You’re home! I was getting worried,” you chirped happily as you rose from the floor to greet him with a kiss. 

“Traffic was a beast. What are you doing?” he asked as he pulled you in for another peck on the lips. “What is this?” He gestured behind you to the living room, now unrecognizable.

“Well,” you started as you slipped around him and began helping him with his coat. “I figured since the weather is –”

“Frightful?,” Cas chuckled as he took his wool coat from your hands and hung it on the hook with his scarf.

You laughed merrily. “Exactly. So, I thought I would make inside – delightful.” A proud flush of color rose to your cheeks as you bounced on the balls of your feet in front of him. “Would you like the tour?” 

“After you.” Cas gestured with his arm towards your creation.

Hands gripped in front of you in excited anticipation, you beamed. “Oh, and no shoes allowed.”

Cassian quickly kicked off his wet, slushy shoes before trailing behind you and lowering his large frame to the floor.

The entire living room had been transformed. Couch cushions had been salvaged into makeshift walls and blankets pulled from your bed. Cas was pretty sure the side table and lamp were buried somewhere in the depths of this elaborate structure somewhere but he couldn’t be sure. A quick glance at the kitchen revealed the chairs missing from the small table as well. 

You sat aside, poised on your knees and holding up the flap that made up the entrance to your blanket palace. With a mischievous grin, Cassian crawled on his hands and knees into the depths of the fort. 

Soft light glowed from strands of fairy lights that you had draped over the structural components of the fort. A mound of pillows were piled in the open center creating a cozy nest. You had thought of everything. On one side of the pillows sat a serving tray full of both of your favorite snacks. On the other, Cas spied two large bowls of popcorn along with a makeshift ice bucket full of drinks. 

As he settled himself into the well of softness he noticed the warm light of a crackling fireplace, looping on repeat on your laptop screen. Crawling in next to him you pulled out the card you had written out just minutes ago. 

“And for your viewing pleasure.” You handed him the carefully curated list of the planned holiday movie marathon.

Taking it from you, Cassian scanned the list with a soft chuckle. “Ahh – I see your choice is first. Isn’t that the one with that elf you have a crush on?”

Another flash of color swept over your cheeks as you laughed. “What can I say? The pointed ears do it for me.”

Cas tipped his back with a punch of a laugh. “Noted.”

“But look –” you said, pointing an elegant finger at the list in his hand. “Right after that one is your favorite, which I still insist is not a Christmas movie.”

“Die Hard is absolutely a Christmas movie,” he grinned as he snagged a popcorn bowl before passing the other one to you.

“Whatever,” you sighed, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Besides, you’ll probably be asleep 20 minutes into it anyway.” He winked as he tossed the first piece of popcorn in his mouth.

“Come on, get cozy already.” You teased with a jab of your elbow into his ribs. “The movie is about to start.”

As Cassian shimmied himself deeper into the nest of pillows, you leaned over to queue up the movie. As you flopped back into your spot, his muscled arm draped itself over your shoulders pulling you closer to him.

Settled into the radiating warmth of your partner, the two of you enjoyed the movie in a relaxed silence. It didn’t matter how many times over the years that you had watched this movie, you loved it even more every time, even if the cute 500 year old elf was one of the biggest reasons. 

By the time the end of the movie came, both popcorn bowls had ended up nestled next to Cas after he unceremoniously abducted yours halfway through. Cassian had slowly slumped his way into a relaxed stretch as the movie progressed and you snuggled closer, draping your limbs to tangle with his. 

Your leg now laid over his large thigh, head resting against his hard chest. Cas’s hand from the arm he had pulled over your shoulders now gently ran over top of your hair, fingertips dragging lightly across your hairline.

“Mmm,” you hummed as your eyes felt heavier with each pass. “Keep doing that and I really will fall asleep.”

A soft huff of a laugh sounded from his chest beneath your ear. “You were asleep already. I heard you snoring.”

Shoving up quickly into a sitting position you unleashed a dramatic shocked face in his direction. “I do not snore! And I wasn’t asleep.” You insisted as you landed a playful slap to his shoulder. Leaning forward towards the laptop screen, you shuffled over to the next movie, Cassian’s favorite.

Almost exactly 20 minutes later, Cas paused his gentle stroking of your hair and listened to the soft sounds of your breathing, punctuated with the occasional quiet snore. Reaching out with one sock clad foot, he toed the top of the laptop closed and plunged the fort into silence.

Moving with slow ease so as not to wake you, Cassian reached over and swiped the blanket wall of the fort aside, tucking it behind one of the stolen kitchen chairs. The move revealed the darkened window, large fat snowflakes swirling in the wind as they fell at an alarming rate. Curling his arm back around your shoulders he started the gentle strokes against your hair as he buried his lips against the crown of your head. 

Soon the low, whispered notes of his voice in song crept into the silence of the padded walls.

“And since we’ve no place to go. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

Taglist : @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos @pit-and-the-pen

@prythianpages @c-starstuff-man0 @sarawritestories @lady-of-tearshed

[hurlumerlu]

Hello stranger! Take it, that's all I got.

Call your boy library books:

Plans are reassuring, and his brother loves them, but they rarely survive exposure to reality.

This one for example, the get in, drop the books & get out plan, survived for approximatively five nanoseconds after Bison had passed the library doors.

The spanner in the works, this time, came in the form of a hot, tall, broad-shouldered librarian. He was smiling at someone, half-sat on his desk, rolled-up sleeves showing off intricate arm tattoos that contrasted beautifully with his professional tie and prim golden glasses, and Bison thought… well. He thought yum, mostly.

Plans are reassuring, and his brother loves them, but Bison thrives on improvising.

He walked closer to the desk, books pressed against his chest. The hot librarian didn’t notice him, apparently engrossed in whatever some guy in a crop top was explaining about… Bugatti? One type of Bugatti? Seven specific Bugattis? Bison cleared his throat.

"Excuse me? Sir?"

They finally turned toward him. Other guy was hot too, now that he’d shut up, an interesting combination of delicate and fit. He took one glance at Bison and began with the librarian one of the loudest silent conversation Bison had ever seen. It ended with Crop Top saying "I’ll leave you to it, then!" (aloud) and "good luck, bro" (wordless, yet perfectly intelligible). Bemused, Bison watched him saunter off.

"So, how can I help you?" The glasses weren’t so prim, from up close, adorned with gaudy fake diamonds that wouldn’t have been out of place as ears studs, and a dangling chain that looked more like a lure than anything else. Or maybe it was just the man wearing them.

"I’m so sorry", Bison said, laying it on a bit thicker than he normally would. He had to be efficient. "I have a few books here that are past due? I genuinely thought I had already returned them. Er, I was wondering if there was a late fee..."

The guy got up to circle his desk. "How late are we talking about, exactly?" He really was tall. And broad-shouldered. And, though the reaction was disapointing, that slightly cold tone suited him.

"Two months?"

The librarian sat with a sigh. "Other people might have wanted them, you know."

Bison did know, that was why he was returning them. He bit his tongue and diligently put the books into expectant hands. "Like I said, my mistake. I’m sorry."

"Are you?"

Oh, now he was pushing it. Bison wasn’t opposed to playing nice, on occasion, but he didn’t appreciate being talked down to. He opened his mouth, and that’s when the man’s face broke into a large grin.

It was like a breaking dawn. Like the sun through gray clouds. Like a choir of trite metaphors that suddenly ringed true. Bison closed his mouth slowly.

"Sorry", the man laughed, eyes warm and mirthful. Cold had looked good on him, but this looked amazing. "I couldn’t resist teasing you. These books could be ten years late and I still wouldn’t care. I’ve been basically strong-armed into working here, so I don’t exactly feel like being zealous. I didn’t even sign a contract!"

"Is that legal?"

"Well, they won’t tell if I don’t."

"You did just tell me, though."

An eyebrow slowly raised over the glasses’s rim. "Did I land myself in trouble?"

"Perhaps," Bison replied, putting some of his weight on the desk. "You tried to make me squirm. I might want some payback."

"But you looked so lovely, all contrite. How was I supposed to resist?" He had manoeuvered himself to be peering up, but still managed to sound entirely unapologetic – the kind of aplomb that begged to be broken.

In the spirit of experimentation, Bison hooked a finger around the chain – lightly, so lightly, nothing that could make the glasses fall, but it still meant they would tumble if their wearer tried to lift himself higher. The gaze behind them turned liquid, yet somehow stayed assessing.

"That –" Bison started. The sharp sound of a book being slammed shut made him startle: two table over, a woman was glaring at them. Bison let go of the chain, and the librarian pulled back.

"So, artists handbooks, uh?" He asked, not quite casual. "You draw?"

"Sometimes."

"Nice, me too. I’d love to see your work." He finished scanning the books and smiled. It wasn’t quite the same smile, but it still made for a nice view. "There you go, books returned. It was my pleasure."

"No late fees?"

"I won’t tell if you don’t?"

Bison huffed. Alright, he could admit it: he was a little charmed.

"Well, then." He hesitated. "I’m off." He expected some form of protest, but nothing came, though his librarian seemed disapointed. Perhaps because of that quiet acceptance, Bison found himself adding: "At which time do you clock off? Since you wanted to see my work."

Another grin answered him. Not as wide, lips closed, but eager and sly and tempting. "I’m free at six," the man said, "we could meet right at the front. Or instead…" He produced a ring of keys. They dangled, catching the light in an enticing little shimmer, silver to the glasses’ gold. "I could show you our archives room."

my spouse @noartnowritingsorry put this in my head and now i can't get it out—

HOT LIBRARIAN!KANT

(gif by me)

imagine bison returning overdue books and this guy looks up from his work, judging him from behind his cunty reading glasses

please i need it so bad

[leviiackrman]

Do you have any advice on figuring out photoshop and templates? I’m new to all of this and I’m really struggling :(((((

Oh gosh I’m so sorry anon, life’s been so chaotic that I completely forgot about your ask! But I am here now to help :)

I will say off the bat that I’m v much a trial and error kinda gal/look things up on YouTube lmao so I’m self taught in pretty much everything I know with photoshop (aside from a few helpful tips while at uni) so I’ll try and list some things that I find quick and easy to use when editing:

Templates in general tend to come pretty organised with layers names etc so it’s easier to navigate, but I also always recommend NAMING YOUR LAYERS!!! It saves SO much time and even grouping them into relevant sections (groups) can really help navigate the layers panel (especially when you get to 200+ layers like me lmao)

I always edit the resolution of my documents when creating them to be at least 100px (pixels) because then the final design is higher quality! That being said; that’ll depend on your computers RAM capacity and how much of it is used by photoshop - my desktop has A LOT of RAM cus it was custom built, but laptops etc have a lot less (otherwise it’ll make the app glitch and crash essentially)

I use the magic wand tool religiously lmao - it may not be the most perfect outline but if I’m gonna edit the image more afterwards, just getting the background out the way first helps a lot! (Using the layer effect drop down will also give you options of ‘multiply’, ‘screen’ and ‘overlay’ plus a bunch more to add effects to your layers, but a quick way of removing a white bg from a layer is to use ‘screen’ and it’ll auto remove it! Careful tho cus sometimes it removes TOO MUCH of the image aha)

If that tool doesn’t work for you then the ‘colour select’ option in one of the drop downs will do the same thing but will select every bit of colour on the document that you select - ie if you click on the white background, it’ll also pick up every other bit of white on the document so keep that in mind (I apologise that I’m not more specific, I’m writing this on my phone and haven’t got photoshop open)

For text layers, I ALWAYS turn off the ‘hyphenate’ tick box in the text box settings! Hyphenate is more for professional documentation/printed work, so for template edits and personal use I always turn it off cus it makes it look weird imo (the text box settings will open up on the right when you click on your text, so just scroll down a little until you get to the paragraph settings and there’ll be a little ‘…’ to show more options and it’ll be in there!)

CLIPPING MASKS ARE A LIFE SAVER!! On your layers panel, if you have a shape drawn out (ie a square for example) and you add an image/colour layer/literally any kind of layer on top and move the mouse to the line between the 2 layers and click ALT, it’ll add the clipping mask so the layer on top is only visible within the shape underneath! Works for filter layers as well as images in general etc PLUS they stack!

For templates specifically it’s a lot of fiddling until things sit nicely with one another for me, but one thing I use often is PSD filter packs that you can download! Lots are on tumblr and deviantart etc but you should always credit who you use, unless you make them yourself! They help tie a design together so all the colours match!

I also like using the ‘blending mode’ options on the layers panel. So when you right click a layer - it’ll give you the ‘blending mode’ option at the top and that allows you to add shadows/gradients/texture and a bunch of other stuff to that specific layer!! Including ‘stroke’ outlines around the edge of your layer!

I ALWAYS save my PSD files separate to the final product in case I wanna edit them, and I will export any final designs as an image!! For highest quality in your exports use PNGs!! JPEGs reduce the quality SO much so always go with PNGs but if you don’t want a transparent background, make sure you untick ‘transparent’ in the export window!

There’s plenty more tools to use on photoshop, but I recommend just creating a blank document, adding a bit of text and an image and just playing around with it!! You’ll discover so many new ways of doing things and ways that suit you!

If you ever want more specific advice for something then pls ask! I have 8+ years of experience and a graphic design degree so I like to think I know some things haha!

I hope that helps🤍

[dykedvonte]

Curly had two days to act and Swansea had two months.

I think it’s just interesting that every defense of Swansea not immediately acting are the same ones that are argued against for Curly. “He didn’t want to alert Daisuke or makes things worse for Anya either Jimmy!” I mean people also assume that about Curly and the crew. “He has to think about his plan of action and a right moment!” Again so did Curly, power and authority aside, he still would have to think of what he had to do. “He makes sure he doesn’t have to be around Jimmy!” So did Curly and they only do this to an extent, both give Jimmy more than a few opening to keep harassing Anya.

This isn’t defense of Curly nor a damnation of Swansea. Their actions are very parallel to each others in tragic and sour ways when it comes to how they approached helping Anya. In the grand scheme of it all they both did the same thing: Nothing. No action either took stopped the inevitable outcome of her death nor Jimmy’s continued damage to themself.

The only real difference is Swansea didn’t like Jimmy which is pretty substantial, but also just as damning as Curly knowing how bad Jimmy could get to an extent. He had even less of a reason to wait, even more of a reason to act seeing as he was now worried for Anya AND Daisuke. He is not bound by the possible procedure as Captain and actively does not care about what happens next. So what does it matter if he acted in the moment? Why did he wait? I think he’s just as morally complex and grey as Curly and we hold him on a pedestal that still perpetuates things in rape culture the game critiques.

It’s not just enough to dislike and be abrasive to predators/abusers like Jimmy. It’s not enough to just put yourself between them and the other person. It’s not enough to hold tensions when you know someone is vulnerable. He and Curly do the exact same things but on different sides of the coin. I ask how is it better to not turn a blind eye but still not really do anything about what you are seeing? Not until it affects you atleast…

The game makes a big point to not put men doing the bare minimum or who wait to do more on pedestals and I’m actually surprised so many are missing that point.

[doctorwhommm]

You should um you should um you should draw norton folgate like like doing anything please just norton folgate im going insane

he’s committed so many gay wrongs

(+ bonus)

[prozach27]

.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

i would like to not wake up wanting to cry. like can we maybe not start the day like that as a default, brain. can we do that.