#It's just so awful and it's so normalized here

[anto-pops]

Envy's Grip - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: There was no field guide on how to handle your best friend coming back to life. But in hindsight, maybe keeping it from your crime lord boyfriend wasn’t the best course of action. 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, miscommunication (kind of), a sprinkle of jealous Sylus (or as jealous as he can be, he knows he's fine)

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3

Sylus was perceptive. 

It wasn’t a new trait, by any means. He had always been annoyingly aware of everything. Sometimes it seemed like he knew your own thoughts before you voiced them– though he insisted you were just easy to read and that it had nothing to do with him using his Evol to his advantage. Now was one of those times where you could tell he was scrutinizing you from afar, having picked up on the influx of emotions that overwhelmed your mind and left your body tense. 

Caleb was alive. 

The revelation had left you breathless– utterly at a loss for words as you had stared at him standing before you whole and well. Well, almost whole. The mechanical arm had thrown you for a loop, but it was his eyes that had broken down the wall of doubt between the two of you. Those bright, violet irises silently conveyed a lifetime of emotion that told you then and there that somehow, someway, your childhood friend was back from the dead. 

How the hell were you supposed to go about your day after discovering something like that? 

When Sylus had asked you the day after what had you looking so dreary, you had waved off his concern with a lie. “There’s a mandatory work meeting next weekend. All my plans with Tara are ruined.” 

He had furrowed his brow at that statement, evidently confused as to why he hadn’t heard anything about your weekend plans up until that moment. You were terrible at lying, and it felt awful to do it– especially with Sylus. You had just prayed that he would overlook your nervous behavior and let you get away with it. 

That same day, Sylus’ eyes had narrowed during lunch while you’d chewed your own nails off in favor of the roast he had cooked for the two of you, but you had done your best to play off the anxious habit as something else work related. Then you had jumped– actually jumped– when he’d walked into the living room while you’d zoned out staring at a wall, his sudden presence jerking you back to the present with your heart hammering and your eyes wide. 

“You need to wear a bell,” was all you had said when he’d asked why you were so jumpy. His lips had pursed while he’d worked a muscle in his jaw, opting to keep his innermost thoughts to himself. 

Then there was right now; your form was sloppy, and your shoulder was aching from the lack of control you threw your punches with. The boxing bag hanging from the ceiling of Sylus’ home gym swayed towards you listlessly, the lack of power in your attacks barely causing the chain to rattle the way it normally would. Using your gloved hand, you halted the bag’s momentum, your chest heaving as you drew in deep, steadying breaths to ground yourself. The sweat that dripped down your temples chilled your otherwise heated skin, and you hastily wiped the moisture away using the back of your forearm before swallowing thickly. 

You were a mess.

As you turned to make your way to the edge of the ring for your water bottle, Sylus tracked your movements with predatory-like precision. He didn’t blink, didn’t shift from his spot against the wall. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. The floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the entirety of the gym clued you in on the dark expression that crossed his face the second you turned your back to him, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the air vent overhead snaked its way down your spine. 

“How do I put this nicely…” Sylus’ deep, throaty timbre reverberated off the walls, and you did your best to ignore him as you brought your bottle to your lips. “The way you’re performing now, you’re on par to fight a toddler.” 

Prick. Water dribbled down your chin as you tightened the water cap and set the container down. “That’s what the practice ring is for. Practice. I’m not trying to show out.” 

“No, clearly you’re not. You’re trying to distract yourself.” 

Ever the discerning crime lord. “I’m working out, Sylus. Since when does that require perfect form?” Placing your hands on your hips, you glared at his reflection in the mirror. “More importantly, why are you just standing there watching? It’s weird.” 

He feigned disinterest by looking at his nails, a move that infuriated you as much as it intrigued you. Sylus always looked so effortlessly handsome. The sight of him posted up against the wall with his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest almost distracted you from the rampant thoughts about Caleb that had plagued your brain for the last two days. Almost. “You might be ‘practicing’, but you’re doing yourself a disservice by not utilizing your full potential. That stance is pathetic, and your punches couldn’t hurt a fly. To add insult to injury, you already know all of this.”

“And I really don’t care. Go find Kieran or Luke if you want to criticize someone, I’m not in the mood.”

Sylus went quiet behind you as you began unstrapping your gloves, and a few beats of silence passed before you lifted your gaze back to the mirror. He was staring at you intently, ruby red eyes flickering darkly and narrowing. It wasn’t exactly the expression he wore when he was angry– not when it still hid a sliver of possessive longing within his dark pupils. But even so, it was enough. You felt arousal curling hot in your gut at the sight, and Sylus’ eyes flicked up to your damp hair clinging to your forehead as a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Then what are you in the mood for?” Sylus purred the question, pushing off the wall to stalk over to the boxing platform. He shrugged off his jacket as he walked, tossing it haphazardly over the rope barrier before effortlessly hoisting himself up and stepping into the ring. “Want me to leave you alone? Completely? Back off and let you think about your long lost friend in peace?” 

Oh, shit. 

Your mouth fell open at the realization that he knew. How? When had he found out? Your mind whirred with the possibilities and your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin and imbuing you with an overwhelming sense of guilt. It had never been like that with Caleb, but did Sylus know that? Did he think the worst? How much of the impromptu reunion was he aware of? 

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” He goaded you further, prowling towards you without an ounce of hesitation. You held up your palms towards him as though to stop him, but he captured your smaller hands in his larger ones and threaded your fingers together, pulling you against his chest with a throaty chuckle devoid of any humor. “Did you really think I didn’t know why you’ve been so out of it lately?” 

“Sylus, I–” you stopped yourself, indignant anger taking root as you realized he had somehow invaded your privacy. “Did you follow me? You ass! How do you even know about that?”

He ignored your pointed line of questioning and pressed on with his brows furrowed. “Were you ever planning on telling me? Or would you have kept quiet and silently debated on whether or not rushing back to his side is a good plan?”

“What? Don’t you dare turn this back on me, you spied on me!” 

“I was in the city on business. Nothing special, but I wanted to stop by to see you once I was done. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in the park with him on the way to my meeting.” 

You tsk’d in annoyance, rolling your eyes in disbelief. “Business. It’s always business with you. Why does it matter that I didn’t immediately run to you to fess up about my friend not being dead?” 

“Because you lied to me.” The way he growled the blatant fact made your retort die in your throat. The anger that had burned hot in your veins cooled instantly, and you blanched as Sylus continued icily. “Taking your time to process it? That I can understand. But you looked me right in my eyes and came up with some half-assed excuse about work. You didn’t trust me with this, even though we agreed we would always be honest with one another.” 

You stammered, “Sylus, wait– I wasn’t–” 

He let go of one of your hands to capture your chin in his firm grip, forcing your eyes to meet his as he stared down at you. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was unrelenting, and the angle left you wholly at his mercy as he slipped his other hand around your back to hold you flush to him. “You weren’t what? Keeping secrets? Giving me unwarranted attitude?”

“None of this is your business!” You jerked your head out of his hold and wedged your hands between the two of you, shoving him away so abruptly that the tiniest grunt escaped his lips. Your eyes were frantic as you exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have left– I just– dammit! Just give me a minute here!”

He gave you ten seconds of uninterrupted silence. The tense kind that set your teeth on edge and made your skin crawl. Then you looked back at him, shocked to discover an icy cool expression painted across his sharp features. The unyielding wall that had existed between you both when you’d first met had been reconstructed in record time, the lack of warmth in his eyes speaking volumes of how he really felt. 

“Take all the time you need, Miss Hunter.” 

When he turned his back to you and started towards the ropes, your heart nearly gave out as your stomach plummeted into your feet. He couldn’t walk away from this– not after he had implied the worst without letting you explain. You had no clue how he even knew about Caleb, but clearly Sylus assumed your relationship with him was something more, and it scared you to think that your lover doubted you. Worse, that he doubted himself. 

Your body acted of its own accord, carrying you forward fast enough that you were able to coil your fingers around Sylus’ thick wrist. He stopped dead in his tracks, but he didn’t turn to look at you. On instinct, you darted around him so you were standing before him, then rose up onto the tips of your toes so you could crush your lips to his. 

Sylus’ reaction was slow; he inhaled sharply before his hands slowly came to the back of your neck, holding your mouth to his as an animalistic growl resonated from deep within his chest. He stepped closer to you, blindly leading you towards the edge of the ring until you felt your back press against the ropes, and Sylus used the newfound barrier to his advantage and rolled his hips against yours while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth. It was equal parts suffocating and exhilarating. Your every sense was overtaken by him– his heady scent, the muscular feeling of him, the guttural sounds he made as he devoured you. 

Sylus’ lips trailed away from yours to mouth wetly at your jaw, and your head fell back as a raspy moan escaped you when he ground his hips into you. The hard length of him was tangible through his dress pants, and the thin pair of leggings you wore did little to deter the feeling. Your hands drifted down his toned biceps and along his taut stomach before your fingers curled tellingly over his belt buckle. The tug you gave the leather material was ardent, your desires taking over your better judgement. Rational thinking had suggested you talk things out with Sylus like adults. To speak to him about loyalty and remind him that he had nothing to worry about as far as Caleb was concerned. 

But bringing up Caleb right now was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Fucking like adults might also do the trick. 

An airy whimper sounded from you as Sylus roughly brushed your hands away from his belt, taking control of the situation and yanking your sweat-soaked t-shirt over your head. Your sports-bra went next, and the peaks of your breasts pebbled in response to the cold air surrounding you. When you blinked up at the man through hazy eyes, his own orbs were dark and hooded, and the way he licked his lips made you want to kiss him again badly. You weren’t far gone enough to think you deserved it yet, though– not even when Sylus leaned forward to start mouthing down your throat, his tongue trailing against your sweat-slick skin as he descended lower and lower. 

Just when you thought Sylus would end up on his knees in front of you, he was back to his full height. He wasted little time taking you by the hips and assertively guiding you down to the floor of the boxing ring. Dazed, you blinked up at the white haired man, staring at him long enough to catch sight of the strained expression he hid behind his calm facade. It almost looked like he was pained. It confused you, but questioning it wasn’t possible once Sylus shuffled down to settle between your legs. 

You felt his blunt nails scrape against your hip bones as he tugged your panties and leggings away, tossing both of them aside before laying flat between your bent knees. He wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t talking with you the way he normally would when the two of you were intimate. In fact, there wasn’t anything that was intimate about this aside from you being fully exposed to him. There he was, fully clothed between your legs and inches away from your womanhood, and yet not a lick of warmth emanated from him. 

Suddenly, your morose thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Sylus licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, your breath catching as the man took care to add a sinful amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you managed to wheeze, your hands flying to Sylus’ soft locs as he wrapped his lips around your clit, then sucked hard enough that your back arched off the floor. Another rough moan escaped you as Sylus splayed his fingers against the underside of your thigh and dug his nails into the tender flesh there. He did the same with your other leg, and the bruising strength he held your legs apart with was something that enticed you as much as it confused you. 

Make no mistake: rough sex with Sylus was always phenomenal, and it was most definitely something you enjoyed partaking in. But there was a missing puzzle piece here– something irregular that had your heart weighing heavy in your chest as you gazed breathlessly to the ceiling. 

You wished Sylus would say something. He hadn’t since you had grabbed for him just minutes prior, nor had he let you undress him like you’d wanted to. The disappointing memory of him crudely swatting your hands away from his belt returned to you then and imbued you with a lingering sense of remorse. Shit, you would settle for him just looking at you by this point. Anything other than the cold, rigid version of your lover before you now. 

Unbeknownst to your internal turmoil, Sylus sat back on his haunches and slid his hands to your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach and allowing for him to manhandle your legs apart. Part of you wanted to protest against the position, but then you felt your lover begin to mouth hotly down your spine and press chaste kisses to your warm skin, and your inhibitions started to melt. It was the first real show of Sylus’ softer side. The gentle press of his index finger against your entrance further derailed your train of thought, and as Sylus slowly breached your fluttering walls with the digit, you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft moan.  

The tenderness left you shaking– trembling–  for more. 

As Sylus started to pump his finger slowly, he took care to remain incredibly attentive to the way you wriggled and keened for more, your face half-buried in the crook of your arm. His free hand came to rub soothing circles against your hip as he gingerly added a second finger to join the first, and the tantalizing stretch had you gasping and squeezing your eyes shut. “F-Fuck, Sylus,” you mumbled, the words muffled slightly by your own arm pressed against your lips. 

You felt Sylus lean forward, his warm breath fanning across your ear as he asked, “Does it feel good?” 

You rocked your hips back onto the fingers easing you open, nodding and gasping breathlessly as the crime lord pressed against your inner walls incessantly in search of that one spot he knew would reduce you to a babbling mess. It didn’t take long for him to find it. Before long, Sylus slid his fingers deeper and curled them up, and the sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through you caused you to mewl your lover's name loudly. 

Taking your reactions as his cue, Sylus proceeded to work you with his fingers faster, brushing the pads of his digits over that magical spot within you every time without fail. The overwhelming sensations left your body quaking as fiery hot arousal coursed through your veins, the beginnings of your climax festering in your gut. As blissful as it was, you had no desire to end things like this; on your knees and with your back to Sylus while he used his damn hands to undo you. 

Blearily, you pushed yourself up with your arms, craning your head around to stare at the man through your lashes. “C-Come on, Sylus,” you implored him weakly. “Please?” 

Sylus met your gaze for the briefest of moments, his eyes dancing away before you could get a good look at him. He mercifully withdrew his fingers, trailing the appendages against your inner thighs and inducing a wave of goosebumps along your skin, then sat back to begin removing his clothing. It was methodical– swift, even. All you could do was watch in the reflection of the mirror as Sylus stripped himself bare without your aid, tossing his clothes off to the side of the boxing ring before returning to his kneeled position behind you. 

Sighing, you ran your hand through your hair dejectedly, accepting that Sylus’ colder nature was your own fault. How could you blame him? Beyond keeping the truth about Caleb from him, you had pushed him away when he’d tried to get close to you. It didn’t look good for you, and you found yourself lowering yourself back to the ground with your face buried in the crook of your arm. Whether you were hiding from Sylus or your own embarrassment, you didn’t know. 

As Sylus lined himself up with your wet entrance, the tiniest sigh escaped him when the blunt head of his cock rubbed softly against you. His firm, warm hands settled on your hips as he asked, “Ready?” 

You could sass him, or rush him along, or just generally be an ass to him in response to him being so closed off, but you didn’t. The air between the two of you was different than it was before, even though Sylus was keeping all his sweetness to himself. You told yourself that you didn’t deserve it anyways and nodded shakily. 

At your confirmation, Sylus sighed and squeezed your hips, then began to sink his thick, perfect cock deep inside of you with slow, gentle thrusts. You gasped and hid your face in your arms, rocking back onto the larger man as you muffled needy little noises against your skin. When Sylus bottomed out, he moaned and ran his hands up your sides, over your ribs, so gentle and so fucking nice that you kind of wished he would just rail you through the floor of the ring. How amazingly soft he was being while distancing himself was making your chest ache. 

It didn’t last long, thankfully. When Sylus gave an experimental roll of his hips and found you more than a little eager for his cock, he groaned and pulled back farther before ramming his dick into you, and the way you cried out for it covered the throaty moan that had escaped his lips. The crime lord set the pace just like that; hard and fast, impaling you and wringing gasping cries out of you easily. The arch of your back let Sylus’ cock slide along your sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the feeling had your eyes fucking crossing. 

It was too good. Your thoughts were crashing, noisy moans sounding from you freely. You were entirely sure you were drooling all over the padding of the ring’s floor, but you didn’t really care when Sylus was fucking you so thoroughly. The fingers digging into your hips pulled you back hard even as Sylus pounded his cock into your wet, tight heat, leaving you completely and utterly helpless for it. 

You didn’t know if Sylus had a cruel streak or a merciful one, because eventually he peeled one hand off of your hip and wound it immediately into your hair, and then you knew you were fucked. So very fucked. And not just by the cock driving you crazy. 

Sylus yanked your hair– just a little on the side of painful– and you couldn’t help the way you fucking wailed Sylus’ name, your thighs shaking and your hips slamming back into his fast thrusts. When he pulled again, you obediently scrambled up onto your weak hands, your shoulders trembling and your stomach churning with wanton pleasure. Sylus leaned down and moaned in your ear, his grip on your hair unrelenting as he urged, “Say my name, say my name for me, come on…” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You leaned your head back against Sylus’ shoulder and gasped his name over and over, your voice pitched high and desperate from the way his cock owned you so perfectly. Sylus’ soft sounds were driving you mad for him, eager to hear his voice again, to hear the white haired man tell you how good you were. The hand pulling at your hair made it impossible to form words, though, save for the increasingly needy cries of Sylus’ name and shaky iterations of please, please, please. 

The floor of the boxing ring creaked as Sylus pressed the two of you back down against its surface to speed up, his hips slapping against your ass so aggressively that you couldn’t help but scream for him, the pleas coming in shaking sobs. 

Even though Sylus was so thoroughly possessing you and fucking his cock straight into your cervix, something was still keeping you from getting close. It felt so good, absolutely amazing, but you couldn’t finish like this. Not when Sylus was biting his lip against his own noisy moans. Not when Sylus hadn’t said your name once this entire time. Not when Sylus had yet to look you in the eyes. 

Whining, you turned your head forward so you could look at him in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead. The muscles of his back rippled with effort as he continued pumping his hips, and his own forehead was pressed into your shoulder so he didn’t have to look at you. The change in your breathy sounds caught his attention, however, and Sylus slowed his hips to a rough grind to give the two of you a damn break. He finally lifted his dark, fucked-out gaze to yours, and proceeded to finally made eye contact with you in the mirror. Even hazy with lust, you could still pick out the hurt in Sylus’ eyes. 

You had put that there. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered and spread your fingers out against the padded floor, an unspoken invitation. After a long moment of consideration, Sylus mouthed at your sweat-slick shoulder and carefully unwound his fingers from your tangled hair to twine them together with yours. You gripped his hand tight and shivered for him, rocking back into now-gentle thrusts with a soft moan of his name. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you breathed, looking back at Sylus from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sylus.” 

He stilled then, his free hand moving to tenderly brush your sweaty bangs out of your eyes. He didn’t respond yet, though, instead pulling out entirely to ease you over onto your back. 

Winding your violently trembling legs loosely around his waist, you wiggled as Sylus leaned back over you and aligned himself with your throbbing center once again. When he slid home, it was slow and easy, leaving the two of you gasping. To make things even better, Sylus reached over to grab both of your hands before lacing your fingers together again, balancing easily on his elbows so his chest was nearly flush to yours. It was so close, so damn intimate, and so much better than you deserved that you couldn’t even begin to hope for anything more. 

Sylus was so kind, though. He was thoughtful and courteous and so damn sweet, and he nudged your nose with his own before he finally kissed you again, thank god. You whimpered pitifully, squeezing his hands while he slid his tongue easily between your lips, deepening the kiss and drawing a keening moan from your sore throat. 

This time, Sylus’ thrusts were steady and slow, following an even tempo that left you sputtering against his lips. 

It was a world apart from earlier. Before, Sylus had been fucking you, marking you like you were his territory, holding back even as he let loose some wild, animalistic part of himself brought on by you pushing him away. 

Now, by some grace from god or by virtue of Sylus’ incredible capacity for dealing with your shit, it was like he was making love to you, his cock continuing to fill you up so good but just slow enough that you had time to understand how amazing he made you feel. Sort of. As much as you could understand when you were whispering Sylus’ name against his lips, your voice still rough from screaming and hitching audibly when he thrusted into you. 

You swallowed thickly to coat your dry throat, then opened your eyes to stare up at him again. 

Sylus had pulled back enough that he could see the faces you were making perfectly, how flushed your cheeks were, and how watery your eyes were. Being watched so intimately caused you to flush darker, and you closed your eyes again and arched your back with a broken groan when Sylus’ cock slid over your sweet spot once again. 

“Sylus,” you moaned, sliding your thighs further up his sides and spreading them wider. “Sylus, you’re so good…”

You felt as Sylus bumped your noses together again, squeezing your hands with a contented sigh. You were more than okay with the pace things were moving at, especially once your lover brushed his lips against your cheeks so incredibly tenderly and thrust deeper into you. Spine rounding again, you let loose a shuddering gasp before your mouth fell open with an airy whisper of Sylus’ name. 

“You look so good like this,” Sylus purred, the sound of his voice sending you reeling once again. It was beyond unfair how Sylus had you wrapped around his finger. You instinctively tightened around his cock, and the lecherous moan the action pulled from him made your stomach flip. He chuckled softly shortly thereafter and squeezed your hands again, “So pretty, you know that, kitten? And you take me so well, with the prettiest little noises. God, the noises you make…” 

You were losing your fucking mind. You rolled your head to the side with a bitten-back whimper, your body rocking perfectly into Sylus’ thrusts. There was no way you could have known that the way Sylus whispered to you would set you so on edge, but you had missed it so badly in the seemingly endless period of time you’d had to go without it. Sylus’ praises made you so hot, so damn brainless that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, and the bastard knew it. When Sylus sped up, you were still helpless– still unable to do anything other than gasp your lover’s name into the humid air between you both. 

Even as he smiled down at you and chuckled at the way you fell apart, Sylus’ own voice was growing breathier, his moans louder. Apparently you weren’t the only one so deeply affected. 

“I can feel you getting close, kitten,” Sylus moaned against you, his hips moving in deep, quick thrusts that filled you up easily. You licked your lips and cracked open your bleary eyes to watch as Sylus’ brows pinched together in response to your walls clamping down on his cock harder. With a stammered moan of your name, Sylus’ head drooped between his shoulders as he murmured, “You feel incredible. You’re so good for me.” 

That was what you needed more than anything. Sylus moaning your name while his thrusts picked up with more force, his teeth worrying his lip as he fought against his bone-deep urge to finish. Your name spoken by Sylus would forever be your favorite sound, and hearing it now was driving you straight to the edge and building your orgasm up quickly in your gut. Your moans spiked into breathy cries, your muscles tensing and twitching in earnest. Unable to stop yourself, you started to beg, “S-Sylus, Sylus, I’m almost– I’m– please, Sylus–”

Sylus obliged your senseless word babble. He untangled your fingers from his so he could sit up on his heels, looping his arms under your back to bring you with him. With you balanced easily in his lap, Sylus kept one arm around your midsection while the other came to grip your hip before he started thrusting again, his cock angling up and hitting you so deep and so perfect that you were certain you were seeing stars. Your hands flew frantically to Sylus’ toned shoulders, your nails digging in for purchase as that telltale sensation in the pit of your stomach grew stronger and more potent. 

Once Sylus breathed your name again, his voice trailing off into a raspy, rumbling moan, it was more than enough to carry you over the edge. 

Your breasts pressed into Sylus’ chest as your spine arched, your climax crashing over you violently and rendering your brain useless. Sylus groaned long and loud as you clenched impossibly further around his cock, and as you clung desperately to him and buried your face into the crook of his neck, he managed to thrust once, then twice, before he came with a shuddering groan. 

Sylus curled around you possessively and ground against you mindlessly, his large hands gripping you so tightly that you were certain they would leave bruises in their wake. He continued to mumble your name breathlessly into your ear as the two of you came down together, and eventually you were able to think through the pleasured fog that still tinged your vision. 

You continued to breathe heavily, your limbs shaking and twitching as you clenched your eyes shut and continued to hide your looming shame in the crook of Sylus’ neck. The only thing that pulled you out of your makeshift cocoon was the feeling of the larger man’s lips pressing against the top of your head, and you jolted almost violently at the attention. 

“Damn, sweetie,” Sylus said roughly, his hand trailing up your bare back to hold the nape of your neck. “You’re still shaking an awful lot. Are you alright?” 

You were silent for a long time, trying and failing to get your breathing under control again while Sylus simply cradled you. There was nothing you wanted more than to keep holding him, to keep him from leaving you and walking away, but as the dust settled around the two of you, you remembered how bad you had actually fucked up. So you waited for Sylus to release you, to stop mumbling sweet nothings into the top of your head, to banish you from his home entirely and send you back to Linkon City. 

But he didn’t do any of those things. He surprised you by lowering his own head so it was right beside yours, using his chin to gently nudge you out of your hiding spot in his shoulder so he could look at you. “I’m going to need an answer, sweetie, because I’m becoming increasingly worried that I hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry, Sylus,” you mumbled, avoiding meeting his gaze in favor of directing your words to his chest. Your voice was meek and pitiful, and your lower lip trembled as you tried and failed to fight the influx of tears that welled in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

At first, Sylus was quiet. You felt his arms slide away from your back, and for a split second you were convinced that he was going to shove you away and end things with you then and there. But then his hands reappeared between the two of you, tentatively cupping your jaw to angle your face up at him. He looked at you curiously, sweeping his thumb under your eyes to catch the stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. His voice was calm and gentle when he finally asked, “What exactly are you apologizing for?” 

“For lying to you. For saying those hurtful things. I know I was overwhelmed by Caleb just… showing up the way he did, but that was no excuse for being so cruel to you.” You swallowed, your brow furrowing as you stared up at the literal love of your life and became overtaken by a fresh dose of remorse. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want Caleb. I don’t want you to think that you’ve been some replacement for him this entire time because I never had feelings like that for him. I should have been honest from the jump instead of getting so defensive. I’m really, really sorry, Sylus.” 

Sylus seemed to mull your confession over– always so careful about picking his words. It was a trait that you could certainly stand to learn from, if only you could manage to stop talking out of your ass for five seconds. 

“I didn’t exactly broach the subject with you delicately,” he admonished with a grimace. “I didn’t stop to consider that your childhood friend was back from the dead. I just assumed the worst and jumped head first into the conversation with that thought driving me. So for that, I’m sorry.” 

A watery smile stretched across your face, and you wrapped your arms around Sylus’ waist with your ear pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing your previously frayed nerves. “So does this mean you forgive me?” 

To your mild surprise, Sylus laughed. Softly, and far from the mean-spirited kind. He returned your embrace eagerly, tracing small circles against your back with his fingers as he shook his head to himself. “There’s hardly that much to forgive. You’ve said worse things to me in the past, remember?” 

“Don’t make me beg. Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, kitten. I forgive you.” 

Sighing contentedly, you felt Sylus press a quick kiss to your forehead before holding you tighter to him, then he rose swiftly and easily, not at all slowed down by hoisting you up along with him. You yelped a little in alarm and wrapped your legs around his waist, entirely at his mercy as he somehow managed to duck under the ropes of the boxing ring with you coiled around him like a baby monkey. “Where are we going?” 

“To shower. I have every intention of making the most of your apologetic mood. And I think I might like to see you beg a little.” 

You sat upright in his firm hold, placing your hand on his chest to put a modicum of space between the two of you. “But you said you forgave me! What about Luke and Kieran?! Your room is on the other side of the house– Sylus, we’re naked!” 

Undeterred, Sylus flashed you his trademark smirk– the one that never failed to lower your inhibitions. “Oh, I forgive you. But since I have heard worse things from you before, the way I see it is you can go ahead and earn some more forgiveness while you’re at it.” 

Anxious beyond belief at the prospect of the twins seeing you in the nude, you shoved at Sylus more and scrambled to get out of his hold. He was having none of it, however, and swiftly readjusted his grip so he could toss you over his shoulder, your rear on full display in the event anyone crossed paths with the two of you. When you frantically started kicking your legs and hitting his back, he returned the motion with a playful slap to your ass that pulled a loud yelp from your lips. 

You loved the man with all your heart. You truly couldn’t fathom yourself ever leaving him, nor could you imagine your life without him. He brought a certain excitement to your otherwise dull day-to-day that you treasured and valued endlessly. 

But be that as it may, you were so, so going to kill him for this. 

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I No UD AU I SFW I Aged Up Characters I Fluff

I have no idea how many words this is, I banged it out right here in the Tumblr app. I was possessed by a demon, I think. Anyway! Behold! Baker!Eddie and Smitten!Steve for your viewing pleasure...

***

"Sir? Your drink."

Steve, startled back into the moment, blinks at the barista as she holds out his latte. He takes it from her, apologizes, and starts to walk away but...

"Sorry again, but, uh, is that Eddie Munson by any chance?"

She turns to look through the pass through window into the bakery. "Yeah. Why? You need him for something?"

"No!" He winces. "Sorry. No. I just haven't seen him in years. We went to high school together. I had no idea he worked here."

She smiles like she's placating him, 'fascinating' that smile says. "He's the owner, actually. His brownies are world famous."

"No shit? That's awesome. Good for him."

He doesn't get a response to that, so he leaves her alone to finish making other people's coffees.

What a weird coincidence, Steve moving to this neighborhood and finding...well, not an old friend exactly, but a fellow Hawkins High survivor.

***

Two days later, Steve is still thinking about Eddie. His goofy hairnet, the flour dusted up his arms, the adorable apron, decorated with skulls, of course. His smile. With the dimples and everything.

"Ugh."

He's gonna go back. Probably make a complete ass of himself.

"Ugh!"

Maybe he'll go just for another look. Eddie won't even notice he's there.

***

He doesn't get a chance to sneak in and out, Eddie himself greets Steve as soon as the bell goes off above the door.

"Steve Harrington is the mystery alumni?! Can't believe you saw my ugly mug and decided to come back. Wait..." He raises a suspicious eyebrow. "Are you stalking me?"

Steve sputters in horror, feeling caught out, but Eddie just laughs at him, throwing his head back, sending his already loose bun jiggling. Steve breaks into a nervous sweat.

"I'm just fucking with you, man. Come here, let me get a look at you."

Jesus Christ, why is this more nerve wracking than buying pot off the guy behind the school?

Because now you're aware of the reason why he flustered you in the first place, dumb ass.

He steps up to the display counter anyway, trying to be unobtrusive to the people in line. "Hey, Eddie. How are you?"

His smile could lure people into the fucking ocean. "Livin' the dream. You? What brings you to Chi Town?"

"Oh, I just moved in a couple doors down, actually. This neighborhood is great. Super friendly, great shopping, cool bakeries." He motions around them.

Eddie gives him an 'Aw shucks' wave. "You're just saying that because Lilly's salted caramel latte is to die for. You haven't even tried the other wares."

He glances down at the glass case. Normally he doesn't do sweets for breakfast but Eddie's 'wares' do look pretty good. "I hear your brownies are world famous."

His eyes light up, despite how cool about it he's trying to be. "I mean, we were featured on a British travel show... No biggie."

"That's really cool, man. Congratulations."

He casually wipes at the counter with a tea towel, the epitome of nonchalant. "Thanks. You wanna try one?"

"Sure." He glances at the selection but there are so many and they all look good. "Recommend anything in particular?"

Eddie bounces on his toes for a second before whirling around and rushing off to the back. His hair is pinned up in that bun but Steve remembers how it used to trail behind him when he moved, as though working with Looney Toons physics.

When he reappears, he's got a wax paper bundle clutched between two hands. "Voila! Salty Turtle Dog."

"Salty Turtle Dog?" Steve confirms, moving to take the thing from Eddie's presenting hands.

At the last second he pulls back. "You're not allergic to nuts, are you?"

There's a joke there but he's not ready to make it. "Not so far, no."

"Cool." He allows Steve to finally take it from him.

The unwrapped package is still steaming warm. It's been a really long time since he's had a fresh out of the oven brownie. He pinches a bite off with his fingers and pops it into his mouth.

"Oh my god," he groans, head rolled back in pleasure. It's like crispy, gooey, salty, caramel heaven. "What the fuck did you put in this?"

"Blood of a virgin. And walnuts."

"I'll take the whole pan." He shoves another bite into his mouth before he looks up to see Eddie watching him, a pleasant smile upon his face and a bit of color on his cheeks. Embarrassment rolls through him as he realizes he's been moaning like a cat in heat for the last half minute. He rushes to save some sort of face. "It's good. Really good."

"Thanks." He calls out to the new girl making coffee orders, getting Steve another latte. "The secret ingredient is actually the flakey salt on top."

He looks down and sure enough, flakey salt on top. "Neat."

"You working nearby? I'm not usually in during the lunch rush but you could always stop by. We do sandwiches for the lunch menu."

"Nah, I'm Uptown. About fifteen stops." Unfortunately, he thinks, desperately wanting another excuse to stop by. He'd already checked, they close at 3pm. He doesn't get off till 5.

Eddie nods, wiping at the counter again, though it's not dirty. "Doing what?" He looks Steve up and down, noting the button up shirt and khaki pants.

Steve cannot tell Eddie Munson he does data entry, he'll never want to talk to him again. "Uh, boring office shit. Tell me about this," he waves around the bakery, "how did you get into it? Baking."

That makes him laugh. "By accident. You remember my...side gig?"

"Of course." The first time he had to buy directly from Eddie, after he and Tommy parted ways, Steve nearly chickened out, he was so scared of Eddie.

Turns out fear wasn't exactly the thing churning in his gut.

"Well, I got curious one night, thought I might try my hand at edibles. Sounded like a safer option to be transporting around school, ya know? I started small, chocolate chip cookies, but eventually I started branching out, brownies, cake, whatever. And they were a huge hit. My friends actually loved it so much we made the classic mistake of eating too many in one sitting. I'm talkin' like a whole pan in an hour-"

Steve winces in sympathy.

"Yeah. Long story short, I met the devil that night and he pointed out to me that I could, in fact, make baked goods without the weed. Ya know, brownies for eating purposes."

Steve giggles against his will. "Helpful."

"Right? And now here I am, ten years later, averaging four hours of sleep a day, but really, truly livin' the dream."

"That's really cool." Steve has always been attracted to people who have passion. Probably because he hasn't been passionate about anything in his entire life. "You should really try to work on your sleep schedule though. I learned that the hard way during school."

"I'd love to but it's impossible. I'm too much of a night owl to sleep at night and I have to be here at 4am, so I'm usually crashing out after work and sleeping till 2 or 3pm."

"Aww, that sucks. If we lived together, we'd never go to bed at the same time."

It occurs almost immediately that that's an insane thing to say to a virtual stranger. Eddie is frozen solid behind the counter, eyes taking up forty percent of his face, silent as the grave.

Steve turns tail and marches right out of the shop.

***

He swears an oath to never return to Eddie's shop, on pain of death, but then he remembers he left half his brownie sitting on the counter and left his latte too. Without paying! The embarrassment is overshadowed by the guilt, so much so that when Saturday morning rolls around he finds himself standing outside on the sidewalk, waiting until he gets confirmation that Eddie is there to go in.

He is, passing back and forth across the kitchen window behind the counter, bobbing his head wildly to some unheard music.

Steve desperately wants to get to know this version of Eddie, so similar but so different to his high school self. Maybe he'll forgive Steve for being such a weirdo and they can be friends. Eddie doesn't seem the type to hold a social faux pas against a guy. He once made a giant dick out of paper mache in Advanced Art. They made him destroy it before Steve got a look but he heard all about it. Five feet tall, they said. Veiny, they said.

He shakes the thought away and steels his spine. Now or never.

The bell dings above his head. He waits. Nothing dire happens. Eddie doesn't leap out from the kitchen, pointing a finger and screaming 'Creep!' Not that Steve thought he would... But you never knew.

"Hello. What can I get for you?" The barista greets, pleasant but by rote.

"Umm. Salted caramel latte? Medium. And, uh, whatever brownie Eddie recommends."

She gives him a look, confused, before something clicks. "Ohhh." She then turns and shouts, "Eddie, your guy is here!"

Steve goes to correct that horrific statement but the loud clattering of a metal bowl hitting the floor cuts him off. Eddie swears, loudly, before his head pops around the pass through.

"I didn't say that," he frantically tells Steve, "she said that. Not me. Dana! Don't say shit like that."

"What? I thought you said-"

"If you finish that sentence, his order comes out of your paycheck."

She scowls. "Whatever." Her scowl doesn't lessen when she turns back to him. "Was that all?"

Steve glances up at Eddie in the window. "Brownie?" He asks, articulately.

"Get him a Valencia." He turns back to the kitchen, only to pop up again a second later, sans hairnet, and ask, "You got five minutes?"

Steve will hang out all day if Eddie asks, but he can't say that. "Sure. I'll be over there." He points towards the window seats.

"Cool. Be right back."

Steve pays and takes his latte and his not fresh out of the oven brownie and moves to the aforementioned table. It's after the morning rush so there are only a few other people scattered around. The closest person is a student doing homework, and thankfully has headphones on. He's pretty sure whatever conversation Eddie wants to have is going to be embarrassing.

His hours old Valencia brownie is still to die for, tangy this time but soft as hell. If Eddie lets him come back he's gonna get as big as a house.

He's halfway through his breakfast when Eddie flops down across from him. He's lost the apron this time too, looking sexy as hell in just a regular black t-shirt and jeans. Still every inch a rockstar even if he's not shredding a guitar. And he's got a little smudge of batter across one cheek... God...

"Hi. Thanks for sticking around."

"No problem. I'm off today."

"Right. Saturday."

"Right."

They stare at each other, painfully awkward, until they both make it worse by trying to speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry about-"

"What did you mean-"

"Oh, sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. You go."

"No, you, seriously."

Steve slaps both hands over his face and whisper shouts until he feels like he's not gonna run out the door again.

"You know what?" Eddie quips. "It's not important right now. How's the brownie?"

He's so sweet. God dammit.

"Really good. Is it orange? Is that what the crunchy bits are?"

"Yeah, candied orange. How's the latte?"

He hesitates a second too long and Eddie cracks a laugh.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You can't fire someone for being straight but I swear they can't work a milk steamer for shit. I can't prove it yet but I know it's true."

Holy shit, the implications of that... There were rumors about Eddie in school, of course, but you had to take everything said about him with a grain of salt. Just because he's implying that he's queer doesn't mean he's single or that he's open to dating Steve in particular. He decides to focus on the other implication.

"So Lilly is queer? Is she single? I've got a lesbian I desperately need to get laid."

Eddie snorts. "Oh yeah? Wait a minute. Buckley? Holy shit, you still talk to her?"

"Talk to her? I just left her on the couch eating an entire sleeve of my Oreos." He sips his mediocre latte and grunts in annoyance. "If she doesn't get over Penelope soon I'm gonna stage an intervention."

"Oh no..." Eddie makes a face.

"What?

"Penelope Williams? Works at the stationary shop on Ashford?"

What the hell? "Yeah? How did you know?"

"Lilly is on her second date with her tonight." He winces even harder, as if it's somehow all his fault.

Steve just laughs. "Why does every lesbian in a five hundred mile radius know each other?"

"Witchcraft, probably. Ouija boards?"

He pops the last of his brownie into his mouth and nods. It's as valid a reason as anything else. He decides to keep the news of Penelope moving on already to himself. Rob just stopped sobbing into his neck three days ago, and he's been waiting on her to feel better before he tells her about Eddie.

"You think if I had Rob come over and put the moves on Dana, she'd make a better latte?"

Eddie cackles. "Couldn't hurt to try."

They smile at each other. It doesn't feel weird, it feels nice, like they can do this, be friendly. Or it would've been if Eddie didn't open his mouth and blurt out, "Did you mean what you said the other day?"

Steve throws his head back and groans. When he looks back, Eddie is waiting patiently for a response. "I'm sorry, okay? Sometimes my brain to mouth filter is busted."

"No, it's cool." He waves Steve's explanation like it's nothing. "I meant, like, was that meant to sound like...what it sounded like?"

Steve cocks his head. He's not sure how else what he said could be interpreted. Like, did Eddie think he was obsessed with sharing a bedtime with Robin too?

He catches Steve's confusion, leans in and whispers, "I just didn't think that was...an option for you..."

"Ohhh," he drawls. Right. "Yeah. Uh," he looks around to make sure no one is listening in, "I'm open to all kinds of...options."

He watches as Eddie processes this, does a frankly upsetting amount of lip licking, and then looks up from between his lashes. "And the thing your brain didn't filter was me being one of those options?"

Fuck. It was embarrassing right up until this exact moment, Eddie looking at him like that. He feels his throat constrict as he tries to swallow.

"Is that okay?" He whispers.

They're leaning really fucking close together - Eddie smells like cinnamon and Camels - so whispering to stay inconspicuous is stupid at this point. Neither of them seem to care.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie draws his name out long and meaningful, as though that's answer enough. Steve supposes it is, coupled with the look he's sharing.

"Five minutes ago."

"What time do you get off?" Eddie practically twinkles at him. Steve groans. "Oh my god, what time do you get off work?"

"Oh." Steve chugs the dregs of his adequate latte. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Not to your place if Robin is still on the couch."

Steve blushes from top to bottom. God dammit, he used to be slutty, why is this so hard? "Right. Your place?"

"All clear." He flashes Steve a grin, full and tempting. Like Steve isn't a sure thing.

They scramble out of their seats and head for the door. At the last second, Steve stops.

"Wait, I almost forgot." He grabs his wallet and starts fishing out a ten. "I forgot to pay last time."

"Keep your money."

He looks up. "What?"

"I wasn't gonna charge for that stuff anyway."

"Okay... But...Why?"

He shuffles in place, all sheepish for some reason. "I kinda over-charged you for the weed. Every time you paid. For years."

Steve is so gone on him already, he just finds that charming.

***

Later that night, while Eddie is asleep, Steve slips the ten under his pillow.

It'll become a back and forth in-joke they share for years.

saw this on instagram (yes, instagram) and i can’t stop thinking about steve recognising eddie at a bakery and immediately falling in love with the guy he kinda had a thing for in high school but never allowed himself to think about too much. like, he’s always had eddie in the back of his mind since finishing school but suddenly seeing him has him all heart eyes and also kind of surprised with what eddie ended up doing with his life. idk, you can think about the statistics, i’m not a writer (please someone write something and tag me 🙏) but THIS will be in my head all day at work

[nickeverdeen]

Fireworks | Vi x fem!reader

Pairings: Vi x reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Fluff, Small Comfort

Warnings: Light Flashbacks

Summary: Going on a date with you is something was very much looking forward to and while taking you to a promised location there’s a change of plans when a certain public event pops up.

——————————

Vi stood in front of the mirror, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. It wasn’t like her to fuss over her appearance, but tonight wasn’t just any night—it was a date night with you.

Normally, she wouldn’t bother much, but you deserved better than the usual. So, for the first time in a long while, Vi had made an effort. She’d washed her hair until it gleamed, the faint scent of a spicy, woodsy perfume clinging to her skin. Her usual torn-up jacket was replaced by a fitted button-up shirt and clean pants. The look wasn’t overly fancy, but it was polished enough that she hoped it’d impress you.

She took a deep breath, trying to ignore how much her hands were shaking. It’s just her. She already likes you, idiot.

The knock at her door snapped her out of her thoughts. She opened it to find you standing there, looking stunning as always.

“Wow,” you said, giving her a once-over with a warm smile. “You clean up nice, Vi.”

She smirked, though the tips of her ears turned pink. “Only for you.”

The streets of Piltover were bustling tonight, and you led Vi through the winding pathways, chatting easily about your plans. Vi listened, but her attention was split between your voice and the way your hand brushed against hers as you walked.

When the crowd thickened near the plaza, Vi’s instincts kicked in. Without a second thought, she reached out and took your hand in hers, lacing her fingers through yours.

You glanced back at her with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

“Just… didn’t want to lose you in this mess,” she muttered, squeezing your hand lightly.

You didn’t let go, which made her heart skip a beat.

As you reached the heart of the crowd, Vi suddenly stopped. You noticed her hesitation and turned back, stepping to her side.

“Vi?” you asked, following her gaze.

She was staring up at the sky, her eyes wide and glittering with wonder. You looked up, realizing what had caught her attention—fireworks. Brilliant bursts of color exploded across the dark sky, painting the city in vibrant shades of red, gold, and blue.

“Ah, that’s what all the commotion’s about,” you said, understanding why the streets were so packed. “Fireworks happen a lot here during the season.”

Vi didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed locked on the sky, her expression filled with awe. But as each firework burst, the loud pops and crackles made her flinch, her shoulders tensing involuntarily.

You stepped closer, gently wrapping your arms around her from behind. She stiffened for a moment at your touch but quickly relaxed, leaning into your embrace.

“You okay?” you asked softly, resting your chin on her shoulder.

She hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Just… remembered something.”

You held her a little tighter, understanding without needing her to say more. You kissed her shoulder gently, offering comfort in silence.

“I’ve never seen them this close before,” Vi admitted after a moment, her voice quiet. “We used to see them sometimes in Zaun, but they were so far away. Like little sparks, not… this.”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over the back of her hand. “Well, now you’re up close. They’re kind of magical, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice soft, almost reverent. Her gaze flickered down to you, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thanks for bringing me here. Even if it’s… loud.”

“Anytime,” you said, squeezing her hand.

For the rest of the show, you stayed close to her, watching as the fireworks reflected in her eyes, making them sparkle brighter than you’d ever seen. And despite the tension in her frame with every crack and boom, Vi looked happier than she’d been in a long time.

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 9

AN: How have we come this far omg- Anyway, I recently hit 100 followers!!! SO I wanted to thank you all so much for your support on this journey! It's been such an amazing ride and I've loved every second. Being a part of this fandom is so fun, even if it's a jail sometimes (Looking at you Tiktok) and I just- I hope to repay the joy you guys have all given me.

This is a request! BUT I combined two requests because I had a really good idea for it! Twisted! Reader makes an appearance again!

Now, I know y'all love Teagan, and I do too! But their mains pmo so for the sake of the story they're the villain for now. Unless you main them, you're cool. This is just based on my experience and since I can't draw them pregnant this is what I need to do.

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2 -> Part Seven -> Part Eight

Warning: Teagan gets a bad rep here, some physical violence (People get slapped), and Sl*t shaming (Reader doesn't let that shit slide though).

☁ You were ecstatic. That much was plain to see. You were practically jumping off the walls as you ran from toon to toon, each asking them the same, excited question. "Aren't you excited?!"

☁ The other three could only watch in exasperated awe as you cheered and bounced from foot to foot, trinkets bouncing off your hip. You were like a kid on Christmas, waiting at the elevator for the others willing to do a run to show up.

☁ You had finally, finally, gotten the all clear to return to distracting, even if the other three lowkey dreaded it, and were practically vibrating to return to your work.

☁ You had agreed to start at a normal run, no hunt for Dandy's twisted, and with all three of them with no pleading, which eased them just a bit. They'd be there should worst comes to worst and monitor how you were doing. If at any point you were unwell, they'd pull you from the run and work back up to what you normally were used to doing.

☁ You took what you could get in all honesty, just excited to be back, catching Pebble when he excitedly yipped up at you, his little tail wagging wildly. He was coming along as a back up. Just in case.

☁ Admittedly, the other three dragged their feet when it came to entering the elevator, even as you ran circles around them, yanking and pulling at them, urging them to hurry up.

☁ Pushing against Sprout, you groaned as he let his weight fall back, giving some grand show as to how "Gravity was increasing!", making you screech at him.

☁ You did surprise him when instead of crumbling under his weight, you stayed upright, pushing him up straight with a call for him to "Stop dragging your clown feet!"

☁ It was the four of you, Pebble, Teagan, Shelly and Glisten. Shelly too was excited as this would be her own first run as well, her own tail wagging happily behind her as you and her cheered in excitement. It was an adorable sight, really, there was a fond eye roll as the lever was pulled and the elevator brought you all to the first floor.

☁ While Sprout was trying to find common ground with Teagan about the tape situation, which she was being rather flippant about, Cosmo had cornered you with Astro's help, ticking off a number of things the keep in mind with your return to the field. You nodded along, even if they were sure you weren't listening as much as you tried to portray.

☁ "Additionally," Astro spoke up after Cosmo stopped to take a breath, the sudden glum loon on his face making you perk your attention up as you turned to him. "Your twisted is bound to be more active. We've noticed that more recently someone was turned, the more likely their twisted is to show up. If you need to, take a floor, let Pebble do it."

☁ His eyes shined with a domineering spirit you very rarely saw in the celestial, making you swallow tightly as you nodded. "I will."

☁ His eyes scanned your own before a star shard was ruffling your fur, making you yelp as you swatted at it. It made Astro chuckle as Cosmo tried not to laugh, making you squeal out a number of curses at the cake roll and celestial. The elevator opens just as the star shard retreats and Astro's gentle hand cups your cheek, pressing a hand to your lips. "Stay safe, starlight."

☁ "I will." You nod, standing and smoothing yourself out. Cosmo doesn't let you go far, wrapping his arms around you and smacking a hearty kiss onto your lips. "Just remember who's bed you sleep in, Pudding! Don't get hurt!"

☁ The unsaid threat makes a shiver spin down your spine as you turn, even if the happy fuzzies from the affections make your entire body buzz. You glance around for the final individual, making your way over to where Sprout looks ready to tear his leaves out.

☁ Teagen carried on anyway, passing you even as Glisten warned her to give you a minute. You let her go though, knowing that if they could last as long as they did without you, they'd last a few more minutes. You focused on Sprout, who took a long, deep breath before giving you a soft, tired smile. "Go get 'em, bud." He hums, setting his hands on your hips as you hold his cheeks to press a kiss to his lips. You nod happily before taking off at last, ears pricked for the twisteds.

☁ You find them quick enough, with Pebble staying nearby just in case. He's chasing his tail, you note, finishing another circle around the large boxes near broken. It seems to be a easy enough first floor, tranquil and calm with a number of fallbacks. It makes things fall into place that much easier as the machines are completed one by one.

☁ From there, floor by floor is completed each one a more welcomed reprieve than the last. There are some tensions, you note, as Sprout grows increasingly frustrated with Teagan, bringing up his concerns several times- more of you piping in as you went. Alas, she remained flippant, scoffing at each of you as if exhausted by your mere presence.

☁ You weren't sure if something had happened during your time as a twisted and subsequent recovery, but you knew Teagan always had some sort of...attitude. You tried to remain as accommodating as possible, but sometimes you just couldn't please everyone.

☁ When the elevator door opened and footsteps echoed in the hall, you tilted your head at the sound, not recognizing them right away. Looking behind you, you frowned at the faces you were faced with. Oh.

☁ "Pebble," You say, breaking the tense silence. "Stay close, buddy. I doubt this twisted is gonna like us very much." Not that any of them did, but still.

☁ You waved at your boys, who evidently didn't look thrilled at the prospect but let you go, nodding slowly as you began to take off. Your Twisted spotted you almost immediately and you felt your blood run cold at the sight.

☁ Their side oozed ichor, eyes beady and red and locked right onto you. It made you swallow as you picked up the pace, looking back at the sound of their hands hitting the floor. The development made your eyes widen as they took off much faster, claws outreached and ready to strike.

☁ You nearly tripped over your own feet, Pebble looking ready to jump in as he whines only for you to quickly recover, taking off to where you knew a good distracting spot was. You picked up a twisted Coal as well, which Pebble took so you could focus on the other twisted, even if he stayed nearby- which you appreciated.

☁ A part of you knew that he would though, as you have grown rather close with the pet rock, who slept in your bed with Blu more often than not these days. (Thats right y'all. Blu and Pebble friendship. Pebble sleeps in your bed. Coal sleeps on the floor.)

☁ So you continue, making sure you were distracting around a metal shelf, that managed to hold strong against your twisted's charging. It clanged everytime it rocked against the shelf, but you continued your little song and dance with the twisted. It was like distracting Goob or Scraps.

☁ Still, seeing your own face look like that makes your gut churn bitterly at the thought of being that at any point in time. You regret turning greatly, but if that was the only way to save Vee, you'd do it again in a heartbeat.

☁ You almost debate zoning out like you used to do, but that hope is quickly dashed at the sound of an air horn. It makes you skid to a stop as the Twisted you immediately turns tail to the other direction.

☁ You try yelling and using your ability to get them back, but they've already focused on someone else and you can't get them back until you get between them and the toon they're locked onto. Which, with your twisted, is a challenge.

☁ Anger boils in your gut as you take off once more, Pebble debating leaving the other twisted or following you. You call out a command for him to stay, which he does with a whine.

☁ You can't even help the growl of anger that slips out as you spot Teagan running, the version of you hot on her trail. You take off after her, even if your joints make their distaste known. This would be the final floor for you, you decided a while ago, promising to power through this one in the very least.

☁ You're not sure where Teagan is going, but you can't catch up. You're low on Stamina and without Astro nearby, you unfortunately just have to hope that Teagan has a trick up her sleeve.

☁ Speaking of Astro, you're practically gutted as you follow Teagan around a corner, the teacup making a beeline for the machine he was working on. You yell out for him to be aware, but have no real worry as even you've missed him a few times. He looks up, noting the situation with a nod, only to immediately gape as Teagan throws down a smoke bomb and the Twisted version of you locks onto him instead.

☁ He's trapped in a corner even as you take off once more, the version of you pouncing. It's claws dig into Astro's shoulders, making him cry out as you reactivate your ability. The twisted version of you immediately turns to you, screeching, but you pay it no mind, running in the opposite direction. Anger positively boils in your stomach as you curse and snap, acting more like a beacon than any airhorn could.

☁ You call for Pebble, making the rock run over, barking to call your Twisted's attention to him as you turned back to Astro. He was standing now, if a little woozy as you ran up to him.

☁ "Oh my GOD- I am so, so sorry. I tried catching up, but I couldn't and I didn't know you were here-" You began to babble, reaching into your inventory bag to grab...anything that could help really. You come up empty, but not for long as you see Sprout jogging down the nearby hall. You call to him and he whips his head over, eyes widening as he sees the ichor on your hands, dashing over.

☁ "We told you to be careful-" He's mid-scold when you stop him, shaking your head. "It wasn't me! Astro was hit!"

☁ Sprout pauses, face immediately taking a new tone. "Astro?" He turns and sees the claw marks on his shoulders, staining his blanket as the celestial groans. "Oh shit- Okay, yeah, let's get you to elevator, honey bun." Sprout bends down to scoop up the other main, making him groan. He goes to tell you to follow, not having the mental capacity to track both you and an injured partner, but you're following anyway.

☁ "I don't have any meds." You mutter forlorn, immediately looking defeated. Sprout frowns at that, giving a sigh. "I don't have enough tapes. I told Teagan there would be enough for both of us, but does she listen? No."

☁ "I'm sor-" Astro begins to groan, but you cut him off with a barked "Don't." Sprout raises a brow at your sudden temper, never knowing you to be one to act so...aggresively? You've always been a happy go-lucky angel of a being, never failing to light up the room with a smile.

☁ But to see you? Snarling with anger and sharp teeth on display, leftover from your time as a newly turned twisted? It makes his skin bristle. "What happened?"

☁ "That airhorn?" You practically spit. "Teagan blew it. Took the twisted from me and led them right to Astro! Then smoke bombed and let him take the hit!" You're seething and Sprout blinks in surprise at this, looking down at Astro. The Celestial's eyes are wide, looking between you and Sprout himself, as if uncertain how to go from there.

☁ Sprout wasn't sure either, simply taking you both to the elevator. Glisten and Cosmo are already there, hiding behind a box. Just as Sprout's about to call to Glisten the directions to the last machine, it goes off and the Elevator opens.

☁ Sprout quickly ducks inside, calling Cosmo over. The cake roll immediately gets to work, digging into his inventory for a first aid kit, getting to work on Astro's wounds. The celestial pouts, but sits, having seen first hand what Cosmo's glare is like when you dared disobeying.

☁ Admittedly, Sprout's still watching you. You're standing at the brink of the elevator, positively livid, but waiting. Like a predator would wait for its prey. You're poised, muscles tight and ready to strike the first chance you loosen your iron clad will just the tiniest bit.

☁ If nothing else, he's excited. To see you? The peachy keen, bushy-tailed, absolutely beaming beacon of hope and sunshines and rainbows and everything nice in the world absolutely let lose? Oh he's buzzing. Even if it's quelled a bit as Astro squeezes his hand, cursing at the sudden infectant on his wound.

☁ Glisten himself steps inside, with Shelly jogging in soon after. Pebble makes his appearance with a yip, immediately running to Astro's side with a wag in his tail, even if he whines at the main.

☁ Then, you're prey arrives. She's panting as she turns the corner, the elevator slamming down behind her as she bends down to lay her hands on her knees.

☁ Everyone is watching you, and your boys are sure you know it. Sprout swears on his life that your eyes flash red as you stalk over to her, growling as you do with a sneer on your lips.

☁ "Where were you so-called-distractors?!" Teagan snaps, turning to you with an indignant scowl on her face. "I nearly got hit!"

☁ "Oh. did you?" The snarl on your face falls for a second, replaced with a grin so sweet even Cosmo avoids looking over too long, cleaning the last of Astro's wound before pressing a bandage to it and a parting kiss. It makes Astro grin before he's gently pressing his own peck to Cosmo's head, immediately turning his attention back to you.

☁ Astro debates stopping you, but figures she's more than earned it with the attitude she's been giving Sprout all day.

☁ "That's funny." You continue, stepping close enough that every step forward makes Teagan take one back before she's pressed against a wall. Faster than any of them can react, your hand snaps out, claws digging into the metal of the wall, and this time Sprout's sure there's a flicker of red. "Because you know who did get hurt? Huh? After someone blew an airhorn? Then led the twisted right to him? Then smokebombed to ensure they saw him? Because I do."

☁ Teagan tries looking for an escape, but you're domineering in every aspect of the word. You're not even focused on them and Sprout wants to bow his head in shame.

☁ It's in your stance, the tone of your voice and your general aura around you. You're enraged and everyone in the elevator knows it.

☁ Everyone, but apparently Teagan. After realizing she doesn't have one, she rolls her shoulder and stands straight, getting in your face despite the snarl on your features. "If he would've moved, it wouldn't have happened! He's as much to blame. In fact, if anyone is to blame, it's you!"

☁ Pebble barks at this angrily, running up to your side, but he's momentarily ignored as whatever patience you had snapped. "MY FAULT?! You blew an airhorn for no reason. We had it under control. You've been a selfish, greedy bitch this entire time with no regards for anyone but yourself! You refuse to share tapes with Sprout, constantly get in mine and Pebble's way and damn near took a medkit from Cosmo! You're snotty at the best of times and too righteous for what I know you've done at the worst. I get your family system has a metric fuck-ton of drama going on, most of it self-inflicted by the way, but that does not give you the excuse to take that out on us, especially not my family."

☁ Teagan gapes as the elevator moves to return to the Lobby, Glisten standing by the lever with a grimace on his face as he stared at Teagan. Shelly is avoiding looking at either you or Teagan, making sure Astro is okay while Cosmo finishes up. Pebble is dashing between you and Sprout, whimpering up a storm.

☁ Sprout himself is watching carefully, torn between stepping between you two and letting you handle yourself. You're on a thin fuse and it's been snipped from her accusations. But Teagan has been a pain for awhile, the drama between her and Rodger reaching several boiling points which she takes out on the rest of the toons. It makes Sprout snarl to himself at the thought, keeping to his spot beside the other two. Astro, at least, looks thoroughly entertained and Cosmo seems neutral about the whole ordeal.

☁ There's a crack in the elevator and Sprout's immediately looking over. Your head is snapped to the left, cheek already looking swollen as Teagen's raised hand quivers. There are tears in her eyes, but she's just as angry as you're slowly looking.

☁ Sprout steps forward to intervene, but Astro's tail swipes against his knees, pulling his attention to the celestial, who shakes his head. So Sprout stills an watches as you move your jaw.

☁ "You have no idea what I've been through! You have no right to mention that! It's not my fault you- you sell yourself out! You're cheap and a dime-a-dozen toon! You should stay in your lane before I force you back into it!" Teagan snaps, clenching her hands.

☁ You look back at her, almost stunned but you quickly recover. "Let me make this one thing explicitly clear to you." You begin, tone chilling the air in the elevator. "Everyone knows what happened between you and Rodger. How? We've heard your screaming matches for weeks. Either break-up or don't. Just figure it the fuck out, if nothing else but Toodle's sake. Second," You hold up a second finger, eyes narrowing. "If you think for one ounce of a second that your relationship is anything comparable to mine, I have some bad news for you. There is nothing even remotely similar between our relationships. Ours is healthy, but you wouldn't know anything about that now would you. And third," You pause.

☁ Then there's another crack and Teagan is backed against the wall. "If you ever lay your hands on me again, I'll feed you to a twisted." You glower just as the elevator opens. You look at it then at your boys, grinning like normal.

☁ "C'mon, lets get Astro to bed. He's injured so he loses rights to complain about getting babied."

☁ "I do not!"

☁ Sprout's already laughing as he carries Astro to your room, Cosmo coming up behind you with an arm around your waist. He waits until you're out of earshot of the others before nudging you. "That was pretty hot, you know, pudding."

☁ You flush before laughing, pushing him away by his face. "Yeah, yeah, keep it to yourself. Don't you have a celestial to heal?"

☁ Cosmo snickers, pressing a kiss to your lips under the guise of healing you just as Pebble runs up to join you guys, beating you to your own room where he sits with Blueberry cake against Astro.

☁ Pebble isn't sure what really went on, but watching you laugh again makes it all seem alright.

☁ Even if it was at the expense of Teagan.

☁ She seemed like a cat lady anyway.

[secretlyazombi3]

Nightmares... ⊹₊⟡⋆

RE4R leon x GN! Reader

๋࣭ ⭑⚝word count:  1.5k words ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ SFW, 2nd person,  gender neutral reader

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ summary: Leon’s no stranger to nightmares, but this time his nightmare involved you, and he needs your comfort.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ a/n: I’m so sorry for not posting for a month 😭 I genuinely have no ideas for what to write, pls send me requests yall. I just wrote this to get back into the flow of writing .

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It wasn’t unusual for Leon to fight sleep like it was his enemy. He remembered having nightmares as a kid, dreams about his parents' deaths plagued him, even when he was in college.

Raccoon City just seriously escalated things. His mind warped every memory of that damned night and looped it in his head like it was his brain’s favorite film. It was like Leon’s personal hell, and it often felt his brain was working against him. 

His nightmares slightly eased up since you moved in - he felt safer with you in bed next to him. The warmth of your body next to him made his muscles relax, cuddling with you felt therapeutic. 

But the nightmares didn’t stop. 

This night, Leon jerked awake from his nightmare, sitting up in bed. Sweat slicked his forehead, his hair was damp and sticking to his skin. 

He felt hot, but he didn’t want to throw the sheets off of himself and risk waking you. 

Leon leaned back against the headboard, placing a hand on his chest as he tried slowing his breathing. He could feel his heart racing even as he assured himself it was just another stupid nightmare. A cruel prank played on him by his brain.

Leon was looking around the room, mentally naming five things he could see to try and ease his mind. Focus on anything but the dream. Ground himself back in reality. 

As Leon felt around for 4 things he could touch, he finally noticed you had stirred awake from Leon jerking awake and breathing heavily.

 The moonlight peeked through the blinds, giving enough light in the room for you to be able to see Leon’s pretty face. You made eye contact with him for a second, sitting up as you looked at his face - he looked so distressed. “Did I wake you?” Leon asked quietly, his voice raspy from just waking up. He gently brushed some of your hair out of your face. Even when he needed comfort, more than anything, he stayed focused on you. 

“Yeah, but it’s fine.” you replied, noticing Leon’s breathing was still shaky and uneven. “Another nightmare..?” You asked. It wasn’t your first time being woken by Leon being jolted awake from a dream. 

Leon nodded slightly. His expression made him look like a lost puppy. 

You moved a bit closer to Leon before speaking again, “You wanna talk about it? You seem upset.” You asked as you tilted your head slightly. 

Leon glanced down at the bed before looking back at you. “Yeah.. I just,” Leon started, swallowing and taking a quick deep breath before continuing. “I just had another stupid nightmare… about Raccoon City.” Leon said quietly. He ran his fingers through his hair - the hair sticking to his skin was making him feel overwhelmed on top of being hot and trapped under blankets. 

“Yeah…? That must’ve been awful. I’m so sorry, Lee.” you replied quietly, watching his expression carefully. 

“It was a pretty typical nightmare. I was trapped in that city, being chased by that tyrant. I saw innocents die, watched parents kill their own children, saw the city go up in flames.” Leon said. He exhaled slowly. 

You nodded your head as you listened. “It’s okay…” you said, gently placing your hand on his back. “You’re safe here, okay?” you assured him. Leon looked at the bed, closing his eyes for a second and furrowing his brows as he thought about the dream. Images of dead bodies he had seen that night in Raccoon City flashed in his mind. 

“I… I mean, it- it was a bit different than my normal nightmares.” Leon admitted, opening his eyes and looking back at you. He studied your face for a second. 

“Yeah?” You replied, your hand stroking Leon’s back. 

“Yeah. This time, you… you were there. It’s stupid because I know you weren’t actually there that night, but I guess my brain just remixed my memories..? It felt so real in the moment, I didn’t even think about how little sense it made.” Leon said. 

Leon watched you tilt your head a bit as you listened to him describe his nightmare. He felt choked up seeing your face.

“You were there, in the middle of the mess. I… I was trying to help you, save you from that hell. But I couldn’t get to you in time, it-it was like I was running in slow motion, I guess is how I’d describe it.” Leon added. He sighed and shook his head. 

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled, looking away and towards the window. “I shouldn’t be getting upset over a damn dream.” “No, it’s not. It’s okay to be upset by a nightmare, it sounded awful. There’s nothing wrong with being upset about this. That’s just a normal response.” you assured him. 

He looked back at you. His lip trembled ever so slightly. His expression stayed about the same as it always was, no real emotion on his face. You knew he hated showing any emotion.

 He paused for a second before continuing. “I feel like I shouldn’t be this stressed over it, I’m a grown man, I’m not a child,” Leon said, his voice slightly cracking. He furrowed his brows as he looked at you. “Seeing your face now just makes me think of what you looked like in that dream. Screaming for me to help you. Getting brutalized by zombies…” Leon said, trailing off slightly. 

He turned his head ever so slightly and the moonlight showed he had watery eyes. Tears were forming in the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t want to cry in front of you. “I regret a lot about that night. I wish I could’ve saved more people. And all those innocent families that were in that city before it was blown to ash.” Leon said. “I-I know I can’t save everyone. Trying to save just one person will lead to the deaths of hundreds of others. But if I could try to save anyone, I’d want to save you.” Leon added, his voice beginning to tremble. You continued to stroke his back. He leaned into the touch, your presence was comforting and your touch could soothe him better than anything. 

“That dream reminded me that I’m a failure, I can’t save anyone, I want to protect you, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to.” Leon’s voice trembled. He felt a tear finally escape his eyes as he blinked. 

“Lee..” You whispered as you noticed his tears. 

He quickly wiped his face, sniffling. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” he said. He hated this feeling of vulnerability, he hated feeling weak. “No, no, it’s okay.” You assured him. He avoided your gaze, feeling embarrassed that he let someone see him cry. How could he ever even try to protect you if he was crying over a dream? “Leon, look at me, please?” you whispered, you placed your hand on his cheek and forced him to look at you. 

Leon furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you, clearly fighting back even more tears. “It’s okay to cry, you don’t have to apologize for that, baby. I’m not mad at you, or upset at you or anything at you for crying.” you reassured him. “It’s normal to cry. The shit you went through is so much more than anything most people go through.” your thumb rubbed against his cheek. “You’re very strong, you know?” 

Leon’s lip quivered and he shook his head. 

“You are strong.” You assured him. Leon felt more tears leak. “Stronger than anyone I know. I know you want to protect me and keep me safe, but you should know I want to keep you safe too.” 

Leon moved closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you. He didn’t want you to ever leave his sight. “I love you.” Leon mumbled into your neck. He inhaled your scent, which was calming. It helped him ground himself - you were here, alive, comforting him. Not being torn apart by zombies. 

“I love you too.” You whispered back, your fingers combing his hair as he held you closer. “I really don’t deserve you.” Leon added. He couldn’t believe you didn’t find it embarrassing or unattractive or unmanly for crying. He gripped you tightly. 

“Don’t say that.” You replied. “It’s true, you… you’re so understanding. Even though I’m being weak.” 

“It’s not true. I’m not too good for you because I’m doing what any partner would do and comfort you.” Leon didn’t say anything back. He stayed there for a moment, enjoying the warmth of your body and your fingers in his hair. 

Once he felt better, he laid back down in bed. He knew he’d have trouble falling back asleep, but at least he had you. You rested on top of him the rest of the night, Leon used you as a weighted blanket. 

Your ear was pressed against Leon’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he stroked your back. You shut your eyes, feeling Leon’s hand slowly stop moving and feeling Leon’s chest slowly rise and fall as he fell back asleep. Once you were sure Leon was back to sleeping peacefully, you felt like you could fall back asleep. It hurts you to see Leon always put himself down for not being able to keep you safe. You wished he could realize how protected you felt falling asleep in his arms every night. 

[pillowspace]

Back to MDP-posting, hold on.

Sticking to my interpretation of Mal du Pays being very protective of Siffrin but in all the wrong ways, I was trying to think of how MDP could occasionally actually do healthy things. In its eyes, its always doing what it thinks is for the best, but sometimes it does actually hit the mark.

Siffrin's too depressed to get out of bed. Similarly to what I described with the nightmare, MDP just crawls into his bed and lies there with him. UNTIL Siffrin starts getting very hungry and/or thirsty, and MDP, as an extension of Siffrin's feelings, senses this. So it leaves to go find food or water. And thus the party only needs to see MDP wandering about in search of something to know that Siffrin needs something.

This can mean the party going to help Siffrin get out of bed so he can eat and drink, OR, MDP suddenly returning to the room with a plate of food and water and Siffrin squinting at it from his pillow like "how did you get that??????"

Normal answer: the party handed MDP food to bring back to Siffrin because it was clearly getting frustrated.

Funny answer: MDP walked into town, found a stranger's meal unattended outside of a restaurant, just thought "oh! Food!", picked it up, and walked back. Now no one knows where MDP got that.

This is not to imply that MDP is Siffrin's self care exactly. The following is an explanation of how I view this dynamic:

1. Siffrin: I'm hungry... // MDP: we need food then.

2. Siffrin: I want to be alone right now... // MDP: you're a burden to your party.

3. Siffrin: I feel guilty for just lying here all day... // MDP: that's because you're awful.

4. Siffrin: but I don't want to get up either... // MDP: *climbs in bed with them* then don't bother.

And then boom. Cuddling cats. Normal and ethical dynamic.

Hi. Good morning. I just woke up. Thinking very intensely about Mal du Pays being """comforting""" towards Siffrin. Aa one does directly after waking up

[ploppythespaceship]

So to absolutely no one's surprise, the new Section 31 movie is quite bad. Critics are tearing it to pieces, and rightfully so. As IGN said, "Section 31 will infuriate Star Trek fans and bore everyone else." And... yeah, that's about right. I don't know if it's the worst Trek movie ever made, but it's certainly in one of the bottom slots.

This post has no major spoilers, but I am putting it under a cut because it turned into a long rant.

The core problem here is the cast. It's an ensemble piece consisting of characters ranging from mildly boring to actively irritating. There's no depth or interesting dynamics at play here. Just a bunch of characters trying to be zany and edgy.

Which brings me to the next issue -- the tone. Basically, this movie wants to be James Gunn's Suicide Squad, but it doesn't understand the careful balance needed to pull that off. It wants to be the edgy, gritty Star Trek movie where people get to murder and be bad, while also having wacky side characters that get to joke around. The result is that half the cast feels like it's in a gritty drama, and the other half feels like it's in a bad comedy.

To emphasize how bad this issue is -- the very last line of the movie is a yo mama joke. No, I am not kidding.

The pacing is pretty bad. You can tell that this was conceived as a miniseries before being cut down to a 90 minute film. The whole thing feels choppy and uneven. They spend too long in some sections and then not long enough in others. At one point halfway through, I literally said out loud, "Oh that's where episode one would have ended," because you could practically feel the entire film switch gears.

We also don't see enough of Georgiou and San's relationship, which the climax sort of hinges on. All we get are flashbacks of them pressing foreheads together in a backlit room, saying that they're one.

This either needed to be stretched back out to a full miniseries -- which probably still would have been pretty bad -- or it needed to be drastically reworked to better suit its runtime.

The style is also absolutely all over the place. It's trying to emulate something like Suicide Squad or Guardians of the Galaxy, but with a laughable incompetence. The first scene left me gaping in awe of how terrible the editing was. There are so many badly placed cross-fades, extended establishing shots, weird almost-music-sequences that aren't willing to commit... then other scenes will just be filmed normally. If they wanted this film to have its own distinct style, they needed to fully commit to it, and make that part of the story's core identity. This just feels like they tacked things on without fully understanding how to actually utilize them.

And the QUICK ZOOMS. This might be a weird thing to fixate on, but I genuinely felt like I was losing my mind. This movie would not stop doing quick zooms, on everything, for every scene. You'll be watching two characters exchange quiet, calm dialogue, and the camera just keeps cranking in closer to their faces. It's just another stylistic choice that they're doing without any real understanding of why.

Perhaps most irritatingly, this movie fundamentally misunderstands the concept of Section 31. First, they just don't get the most basic premise of the organization they based their entire movie on. A Starfleet officer is an official part of their team, expressly there to serve as their Federation oversight. Excuse me?? Did you watch a SINGLE previous Section 31 episode?? The entire point of this group is that they exist beyond official oversight.

But even worse, I'm not sure these writers understand that Section 31 are the bad guys. One of Georgiou's lines is, "Section 31 is just the place for officers who bend the rules, never quite break them, until they do." The final scene has Garrett fondly calling Georgiou a "bad bitch." And the team doesn't really do anything all that morally questionable -- they all just crack terrible edgy jokes the whole time. In this movie, Section 31 genuinely is just Starfleet but edgy, and it pisses me the hell off.

Genuinely, the utter misunderstanding of Section 31 is one of my least favorite things about modern Trek. I really hope this movie's reception will convince them to just shelve the group entirely for a while.

I do think a decent version of this movie could have existed. Cut the entire side cast to have a tighter focus on a trio of Georgiou, Alok, and Garrett. Georgiou and Alok have a similar enough backstory that they could develop a really interesting dynamic with more screentime. And Garrett can be there as the Starfleet officer who stumbled into the situation against her will, and tries to maintain her moral compass while also recognizing that drastic action is needed to defend the Federation.

Then you could actually explore the meaningful differences in morality between these characters. Touch on the core themes of what Section 31 was originally meant to be. Do the ends justify the means? At what point have you gone too far? And with Georgiou specifically -- is it even possible for someone like to her to seek redemption? Can she truly earn it?

Instead, we get a bland movie that isn't interested in exploring any deeper meanings. It just wants to be an edgy Star Trek version of Suicide Squad. And that's a damn shame.

[marshmellin]

Galadriel is a kick-ass, legendary warrior in Arondír's eyes. I suspect other rank-and-file elven soldiers view her similarly.

Every time (every. time.) Arondír is on screen with Galadriel, we get to see how much true awe he looks at her with. Arondír gives us the unique perspective of how Galadriel is perceived as a warrior among other elven soldiers. Gil-galad and Elrond (as well as Círdan and Celebrimbor) are all very familiar with Galadriel and her bullshit. They know her great deeds on the battlefield. In some cases, their in-show vibe has been like: Yeah, the darkness, the shadows, the evil. Valar, we know, you are older than the sun itself. YES, we will text you if the darkness returns, grandma, just staaaaaaahp fighting so much.

Arondír looks at her in a completely different way. He looks at her with the eyes of one who knows of her great deeds, and can not believe he is now in the same room as her. The look on his face, IMO, says she's damn near a mythical warrior at this point for him. (To get poetic and therefore less accurate with it; Galadriel's status to this rank-and-file elven soldier is: Athena. The Morrígan. Freyja. Ishtar. Durga.)

Arondír's face when Galadriel:

"So, Theo, m'boy, that is Lady Galadriel, commander of the Northern Armies, and she's here to save every Valar-damned one of us. I can not believe she's here, are you kidding me? She is a LEGEND. Put some respect on her name and heal her already, Elrond, why are you standing there like an idiot if you have a magic ring? Are all High Elves this insane?"

Arondír's face when not Galadriel:

I think there’s a deep beauty in seeing just how much Galadriel has inspired other elven soldiers, and how long she has been fighting. For Arondír to say her name like that, with such relief and awe in his voice, truly says something to how he — a normal elven dude who used to be a grower before he was hauled into mandatory watchguard duty or whatever the hell — views her.

I don't get the sense that he and Galadriel are work besties, so to speak. So that makes me think Arondír knows of Galadriel and her skill from what he has heard of her — her renown, her reputation. Potentially her magical hair color.

And this warrior respect she has won is highlighted again. Arondír knows her enough to trust her and listen about when to attack Adar outside Eregion. The man wants blood even if it's his own, and she talks him down. Galadriel is the reason he is alive rn, candidly. Her on-the-field advice to both him and Theo — to pause, to show restraint, to plan for tomorrow — is indicative of the type of leader she is.

This, to me, also makes the nearly-kinda-sorta mutiny when we first see Galadriel hit so much harder. If she is this near-mythic warrior and general known by all, and soldiers like Arondír know of her greatness from stories of what she has done — if she's THAT GIRL from a warrior and leader perspective and yes JRR did in fact make her that girl — then yes, that mini-mutiny at Gil-galad's order stings so much more. Not only that Gil took command of these five troops and said "follow her until you reach X and pull back regardless of her command." That sucks a lot. But I see additional pain there, IMO, because she could interpret that move as Gil-galad saying "her judgment as a warrior and leader can't be trusted. She no longer is the mythical warrior we need." A hit to her reputation in front of other soldiers, not just a censure of the actions she took. Yikes bikes on your timing there, Ereinion.

Bonus Trek Thought:

Truly, the first time Arondír said “Galadriel” with wonder to Theo, he instantly made me think of BOIMLER in the SNW/LWD crossover ep! He is bashful and giddy about meeting Number One on the original Enterprise. GIDDY. Every time he sees her, he is in awe. And it's because she was a legend to him. Her story inspired him to join Starfleet; set him on his life's path, literally. She was the coolest officer and fighter and scientist he had ever heard of.

his hero. and now he's meeting her.

An additional note: We can read the look on Arondír's face as romantic, too, don’t get me wrong -- ship and let ship. Would it be the Arondriel girlies (gn)?. But jokes aside, I don’t want to relegate Arondir’s closeness and warrior bond with her to romantic only. Miv has unstoppable chemistry and so does Ismael. Hot people are hot, more breaking news at 11.

[wizardlover124]

dirk the character

dirk's core motivations come from being inadequate. on one hand it's because he's not enough his friends-- he's too neurotic, he's too emotional, but he loves them to death (as he literally says about roxy) and would give anything for them to enjoy talking to him. on the other hand—and this is what this meta will mostly focus on—he's inadequate compared to his older bro (alpha dave). to dirk, alpha dave cannot be a real person-- he's more akin to a fictional character, a completed NARRATIVE. alpha dave made a space for himself in the world-- he was massively successful, had fans, and orchestrated massive plots to fight the condesce all while carving his own creative niche in the world. most importantly, he was the only source of guidance as to "what to be" dirk had.

by definition dirk cannot access any flaws a!dave might have had, because he didn't-- in a well-written story, any flaw is only part of the "character," and it's not like dirk ever really knew a!dave anyway. i think he adopted this mindset for himself and too began viewing his entire life as a story, in which he's a character and not a person. partially because it literally is— alpha dave prepared this apartment for dirk because dirk was destined for something greater, e.g. sburb, and dirk spent sixteen years waiting for his own story to begin. but there's one critical problem here. dirk cannot be enough compared to alpha dave. alpha dave is an IDEAL dirk constantly measures himself up to and at every turn fails-- suddenly, when he's trying to place himself in the hero role he thinks a!dave had, nothing he does is adequate. even normal human flaws become akin to sin. his interactions with his friends just remind him of that-- he can't live up to roxy's desire, he can't seem to get jake to love him, and this complicates things with jane too. he doesn't think he'll be enough—not for his friends, and not for the story that lays ahead of him.

his solution is to turn to the machine. he creates the autoresponder, thinking that is the most "ideal" version of himself—the character that he's been waiting for—and has it talk to his friends instead. but this doesn't work either. if hal is the perfect version of himself, then what use does dirk have in the world? plus, he's completely fucking insufferable-- does that mean dirk is, even at his best, awful? if hal ISN'T the perfect version of himself, that means that dirk's best solution-- the one he's been trying at since he realized this flaw--the machine fails.

dirk spends the rest of sburb, at least i like to think, unlearning some of these ideas. he meets dave in person. he has long conversations with his friends (also in person!) who he . he spends time deconstructing himself as a character and as a person instead.

which brings the real point of this essay: ultimate dirk.

postcanon dirk, who did ALL THAT, learns that actually he was CORRECT— there's been an audience watching him and all his failures this entire time—he IS a character, and so far he's been almost utterly meaningless. he doesn't fight the condesce. he gets decapitated thrice. he fails to save the game over timeline. the one thing he tangibly does, unite synchronization, is barely done by him (arguably hal). this realization undoes every piece of character growth that may or may not have happened. and now his timeline is thrust into irrelevance, precisely because this audience no longer cares about postcanon. so he takes up the role he thinks he was always meant to—he becomes a character. and because he's failed his entire life in becoming the hero, he opts to become a villain—the way he knows that beta dirk, his "previous" version, was to dave—and puts dave in the hero position alpha dave was in before.

dirk is the worst version of himself when he, instead of actually TALKING to the people he's around, holes up into himself and interprets everything through his own narrative. this habit which he had to unlearn is both literally and meta-textually the fucking epilogues. which is also a creative work that he's trying to carve his own space in the world through. the epilogues are dirk's sbahj. dave's story is about leaving beta dirk's shadow, and dirk's story is about imitating alpha dave—still his only point of reference—still dirk's most coveted narrative. this is where his obsession with narrative and relevancy comes from and this is what fundamentally makes ult dirk compelling as a character to me!! anyway how are we doing

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic. (Part Seventeen)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and is all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Seventeen: Y/N tries to convince herself of her thinking patterns invalidity - reminding herself it's just anxiety - but she still has fears. A soft Saturday out with Cillian helps to both cement her anxiety and soothe some, perpetuating the paradox. But she's happy, and he's responsible for that. [Domestic life/Teasing Cillian a lot]

@remembering-angels @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @strangeions @meadowshelby @lavender-haze-01 @watermeezer

Páidi - kind of pronounced like "Paw-dee" as the A with a fada (á) gives an "aw" sound.

Naas - in Kildare; you say it like "Nay-s" but NOT like "says", keep the S short, so it sounds like "place"

If there's any more you're not sure on just ask.

Not proofread - sorry

......

When you open your eyes to a gently lit room as day peeks through the sides of the curtains, you lie perfectly still and stare up above you. Beside you, Cillian's soft breaths are huffed into the pillow and you can feel the warmth of his body close to yours. The urge to turn into him and hold him is great, but you don't want to disturb him. You reach out for your phone and check the time, surprised that it's actually just gone nine am. Awake, though, you don't want to risk waking Cillian, knowing he's exhausted, and you slip carefully from the bed. You find your slippers, and a cosy hoodie, and take them and your phone with you out of the bedroom. You awkwardly pull the door closed behind you and creep across the landing, so as not to disturb the others, and make your way down the stairs. Once at the bottom, you shrug your way into your hoodie and thrust your feet into the warm fleece slippers. You push your phone into your pocket as you approach the kettle. Satisfied with the amount of water left in it, you flick it on to boil and reach for a mug and then coffee. You can hear no movement above you and surmise that everyone is still sleeping - you consider you too could be sleeping at this time on a Saturday when you've no solid plans, but here again your heart is a-flutter, and it isn't for the lust of Cillian in his boxer shorts.

You make an instant coffee solely for the speed, and situate yourself on the couch. You draw your legs up for the cosiest position you can get yourself into, and use the controls to switch on the TV. You settle down with a Real Housewives marathon and sip your coffee. But your dream is bothering you, and you don't even know why. You'd been waiting for Cillian to come home, you'd parted on good terms before he left… where is the anguish and anxiety from? You know your choices and decisions, and you are fine with them. So why is your subconscious telling you that you aren't?

Unable to concentrate on the TV, you find Spotify in the apps and simply select it to play through Cillian's liked songs list: you know this is a mixed bag and will present you various moods. You bring your empty coffee mug into the kitchen as a slow-going jazz track begins, and place it into the sink. You empty last night's dishes from the dishwasher and stack them away where they belong, and find yourself wandering around the kitchen with the look of a busy woman without any real task. You sigh as you push into the laundry room at the back and throw a load of Cillian's clothes into the machine, careful which softener you use as you know there's one that irritates his skin at times, and set it onto a quick wash to get through the nearly month's worth of items. You don't know why he brings it home, and doesn't use the available laundry services, but you also like the knowledge that you've done your ‘housewife duties’ for him, too. He's gone so long, you miss having the chance to do silly, normal things like this. As the machine fires up, you slip back out of the room and pull the door across to shut out the noise of the machine, and jump out of your skin as you're met with Síle and Griff, still in their pyjamas too, walking towards the island.

“Christ!” You gasp, then laugh a little with your hand on your chest. “Sorry! Made me jump.”

Sîle gives a cheeky smile, “Sorry, Y/N.”

“It's fine,” you keep smiling. “Did you guys sleep okay?” You ask her, and walk towards the kettle. You bring it with you to the sink to fill it as they both begin answering you at once. You're overwhelmed by the depth of their accents and smile back as they seem to get faster as they talk both to each other and you.

“Yeah, grand. Sure that's a lovely wee room there. It's Malachy's room, is it?” Griff says.

“Ah is it not Aran's? I thought it was Aran's with the wee thing on the wall.” Síle says with a laugh.

Griff shrugs. “Did Cillian not say there last night it was Malachy's room? Jays, I thought he did. Sure maybe he didn't! But come here, Y/N, that bed’s fierce comfy now.”

“Ah it is!” Síle agrees immediately.

You place the kettle back onto the base and click it on to boil. “Tea?” You offer, “Or coffee?”

“Ah tea’d be grand,” Griff nods immediately.

Síle nods her head, “Yeah, tea. Thanks Y/N.” she takes a seat at the island and Griff follows suit. “Is himself still snoring away?” She asks with a smile.

You smile back as you nod your head, “He is.” You shrug your shoulders. “Loves his sleep.”

“You said he'd been busy; sure he's probably needing to catch up after running all over England in the flat cap.” Griff teases brightly. “We got watching the Small Things film there, too. Was good, that.” He says. “Deadly stuff.”

“Yeah, it's such a wonderful thing they've done.” You smile, pride filling your insides with warmth. “He's proud of it too, but he's so humble he won't say a whole lot.”

Síle smiles as she nods her head slowly, “Uncomfortable with praise in any capacity yet does what he does, so public.” She laughs, “He's a contradiction of himself.” She says with raised eyebrows.

You turn as the kettle boils, and you're relieved it does. You're not sure how to respond to her observation. You quietly make their tea as they chat together, commenting on the photograph magnets on the fridge - some of you both in Rome, some Cillian and his friends and colleagues in England, and many of the boys through the years - and that their own wedding invitation is still on there too, which sends them into a recount of the day. You turn back with their tea and smile as you hand the mugs over.

“Youse did out the kitchen, did you not?” Griff asks, glancing around.

You nod your head, nursing your own coffee and silently cursing yourself from having got a fresh mug. “Yeah, the guys that did it were here for weeks. But we got what we wanted.” You smile, “Cill was insistent on that,” you jerk over to the cooker which is in the style of a classic aga without the power to control the heating for the whole house. “Doesn't match the generally modern look, but he thinks it's the best thing ever.” You laugh lightly.

“Does he even cook?” Síle laughs.

“Sometimes, yeah,” you defend him good heartedly. “He recreated these bagels recently, that we'd had in Monaghan in the summer…” you laugh as you do a chef's kiss and they both laugh a little. “And don't tell him I said so, but he makes this vegan, sort of lasagna thing. It's actually really good.”

“He's the weight on him more right now, for Peaky, and he's looking well. Is that back on the meat and all?” Griff asks.

You twist your lips a little, “High protein,” you say, “Sometimes it's a meat option. But he prefers the veggie options, you know what he's like.” You smile. “As long as he's not thrusting that vegan cheese under my nose, he can do what he likes.”

“Oh we got a smell of a few of those at that farmer’s market in Douglas, there's a few that are rotten!" Síle validates your aversion with a grimace.

“Tell me about it - and it's ten times worse when he has it warm, like cheese on toast or something. It stinks!” You fake a gag. “So what time are you two off to do your thing today?” You ask when a quietness falls.

“Around half twelve,” Síle says, checking the clock above the cooker. “You don't mind if we get a use of the shower, do you?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, not at all. I'm sure when Cill emerges he'll be cooking breakfast - he likes to when the boys are here so I'm sure you'll get the same treatment. But if you want to go on ahead and shower while he's still in bed, go for it. He won't hear it running with the doors shut. There's a rack in the bathroom, I'm sure you saw it, with the towels and all on. Help yourselves.”

Quiet falls over the house again, and the playlist on Spotify kicks out Dreaming Again and you instantly feel a loving warmth, coupled with a marching of goosebumps over your body. This song will never lose its meaning, or its appeal, and you smile softly as it plays through. It's as it is ending that you catch the sound of the stairs, and turn your head to see Cillian step off the last step. “Morning,” you smile. “Was it too loud?” You ask, and nod towards the TV. He walks up beside you, standing at your left as you lean on the island, and he gently places his hand on your back.

“No,” he shakes his head. He's croaky and sleepy, and his hair is a mess, and if his sister wasn't here you'd want him on the sofa. “It was herself cackling that did it.” He nods at his sister, then laughs as she looks back at him with a playful scowl. “Ah no, sure I was only half asleep there after you got up.” He says, and he moves his hand gently up and down against your back. “Are youse all sitting here waiting on me making breakfast?” he asks, and removes his hand from your back.

“Well you're running the hotel, you'd better be including breakfast, so.” Síle chuckles. He smirks, turning to boil the kettle.

“I'll do it, no bother.” He says, moving about behind you at the counter by the kettle. “What do youse want?”

“No cheese,” Síle laughs, and you giggle along with her.

You jump as you feel Cillian's hand slap down against your sides and his fingers begin tickling against your ribs. “You been bad mouthing my cheese?” He accuses, joking, and you squirm under his childishly playful assault. He stills his fingers and runs his hands gently up and down your hips before he turns away again. “Will I make a fry?” He asks, busy again as the kettle boils.

“You're the chef, boy, you do what you want.” Griff nods in approval, though, at the suggestion. “We were saying to Y/N, there, we're away after twelve. Do you have a spare key or something for later, we can come back and just hang about if you're busy, if that's alright?”

“Ah, yeah, work away. There's a spare one on a hook in the cupboard out there in the hallway,” Cillian nods.

“I had a thought,” you say, turning around. You rest your back on the island and stare at him with a wide eyed expression, “We could go and have lunch somewhere. You and me, or if you wanted to see if the boys want to come. We could go out into Dunshaughlin if you wanted, or drive out into Naas even to that pub, so we're out of the city, or stay cityside and head up to Dundrum shopping centre?” You suggest, watching him as he rests back on the counter and sips from his cup. “Or not.” You say, when he doesn't offer any response.

“Mal’s working,” he says, shaking his head, after swallowing his drink slowly. “But we could do whatever, where do you want to go?” he smiles gently, lovingly, and you wonder if you're blushing under his gaze.

“Naas?” You raise your eyebrows. You hadn't been near the shopping centre in some time and while you'd have liked to run up, you assumed a Saturday up there with Cillian would be a little overt. “That little pub does those sweet potato fries with the dip we had that time. We could go to the garden and home place that's over the flyover opposite, then go back across for lunch.” You smile gently. “That garden place has the wood and turf bags, too, which you wanted for the fire.” You remind him, and you laugh to yourself as his expression changes.

“We’ll go out to Naas then,” he nods his head slowly. “Breakfast first,” he says, putting down his cup. “Youse all want a fry, yeah?” He asks.

“Go for it,” Síle nods, “But I'm going to get a shower while you're cooking, and you can jump in after,” she puts her hand on Griff's back as she gets down from the stool at the island. “I won't be long.” She says, heading to the stairs. “And don't be giving me vegan sausages, Cillian!” She calls out over the banister and you laugh loudly, watching him raise a single eyebrow and shoot up a V despite her being out of sight.

You put down your glass of gin and tonic, and smile across the small two-top table in the pub restaurant. You'd ordered a few minutes ago and you were looking forward to your fajita wrap and chips. Cillian sets down his phone and leans forwards slightly and rests his elbows on the table. He folds his left hand down before him and settles his chin into the palm of his right hand. His Guinness is before him, and he's looking at you like the first time you met up deliberately; there's a sheepish smile and a softness over his eyes. You frown a little, amused and curious, and mirror his positioning. “What?” You say, raising your brows slightly as you smile again.

He rolls his eyes slightly and his smile widens, showing his teeth. “Nothing,” he says quietly. “Just nice to be tipping about with you, you know? Missed you these last weeks.”

“Yeah, I've missed you too.” You whisper. “Tuesday can fuck off,” you scoff. “Don't go back.” You joke.

“Ah, it's the home stretch.” He says, “Then it'll be us at home for Christmas.” he drops his arm, crossing it over the other one on the table. He takes a deep breath. “How're you feeling?” He asks you, and his face looks concerned. “After last night.”

You consider the question. How are you feeling? Still anxious, tormented by the dream, embarrassed… “I'm okay.” You push a soft smile up your cheeks. “I am,” you insist when he raises a single eyebrow. “I don't know if I should go back to the therapist, or maybe see a doctor and get some medication.”

“You think it'll help if you did?” He asks, “Medication, I mean. You said after…after the abortion that it was good for the short term, but not something you'd like long term. If you think it'll help you, like, then consider it. But maybe the therapist, or talking to me about what goes around your head, is a better option first?”

“Like you talk to me?” You say, like your filter is down, and as you hear the word leave your lips you watch his face for his response.

He sighs deeply, and his tongue swipes quickly over his lips. “Touché.”

“I didn't say it to be a bitch.” You say gently.

He shakes his head, “It's alright. Sure, I said it first.” he smiles softly. “Look, you'll do what you want to and what's good for you, so just do that. But talk to me, will ya? You make things big in your head and we can sort it out if you just talk.” He reaches out over the table and touches his hand on your arm resting on the table.

He draws back his hand after a moment and you fall into a slightly strange silence. It's not awkward, but you genuinely have nothing to say in relation to his comment. For a moment you consider telling him that you don't think you're okay not having children, now that you'd reached that point - but you like you'd then be the one going back on what you'd said, after telling him so insistently that you were okay with his choices. You know he wants a baby, but you know that what trumps that want is the anxieties that he had himself over the future - the boys reactions, the strain it could put on yourself and him, and you suspect he has fears that repeating his steps in life from before will equate to the same outcome. That being, kids with Yvonne eventually caused issues, and it would do with you, too. Not that he'd ever said that, he didn't say much about his feelings at times (at other times he could be hard to shut up discussing his feelings). But you feel bothered, if only a little, by his audacity - he can't tell you one thing by demanding you talk and do another himself by what he did in not talking to you, but you don't want to fight. This long weekend isn't about therapizing one another, or arguments over things that feel small or one sided; he's here to love, to sleep next to, and to fuck into the matter before he disappears again for weeks.

“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows as a thought comes to you, and chuckle a little. “I think they were asleep last night.” You say, and you watch him go from frowning to smiling with a dash of embarrassment.

“Small mercies,” he smirks, “Don't think I could have lived with knowing my sister was listening to us having sex.”

You draw down the corners of your mouth and laugh a little bit louder, “There's always tonight.”

He closes his eyes and purses his lips, then scoffs a laugh as he shakes his head. “I'm all for the sex,” he raises one eyebrow and laughs lightly again. “I am not for deliberate porn noises to get them holding a glass to the wall!” Drawing on his minor discomfort, you make a stereotypically orgasmic expression and softly moan. You can see he's mortified, but he's laughing too. Repeating it, daring to make it a little louder, you taper off into a laugh when he kicks your shoe under the table. “Ah, Y/N!” He hisses, “Give up, will ya!” He's laughing, though, and you're so tempted to do it again until you catch sight of a waitress heading towards you with plates in her hand.

“Preview!” You raise your eyebrows and whisper just as she reaches your table.

It is almost ten thirty pm and you're beginning to feel tired, despite a slow and gentle day. You sit curled against Cillian on the sofa. He has his arm wrapped around your back and you feel safe and happy pressed so close to him, laughing into his chest, as Síle and Griff delight you both with the story of their day. Their event had been less than what they were expecting - their featured friend hadn't shown - and they'd spent their time giggling before abandoning the whole thing and instead tipping around the wax museum, laughing like children.

“Hand to God,” Griff laughs, “It was a shit show.” he shakes his head.

“And there was nothing there?” Cillian asks, smirking as he shakes his head.

“A few six-by-four photos pinned to a washing line,” Griff laughs loudly, and Cillian throws back his head in amusement. “Yer wan at the desk when you go in the door, she was looking at us like we just didn't get the visions but sure there was no vision to be getting!”

“That's gas,” Cillian chuckles, settling slowly.

“I was on the phone with Páidi, he had the same reaction.” Síle laughs lightly.

“He's alright, yeah? Páidi?” Cillian asks. It's been some time since you've seen his brother, but you always like his sense of humour when you're together.

“Ah, yeah, getting on the best.” Síle nods.

“Did youse get back here early?” Cillian asks as the room goes quiet, and brings his beer bottle to his lips.

“About three,” Síle says, “We powered through your fridge there for sandwiches.” She said, “When you text there that you were on your way back is when Griff said he should do the dinner.”

“Well, we're grateful you did.” You smile. “Cillian doesn't make me country food.” You grin and squirm a little as he tickles his fingers against your hip where his hand rests. “But sometimes you want mashed potatoes and gravy!”

“Too right, girl!” Griff agrees cheerfully. “Come here, I'm going to be a bit antisocial here and head up to the bed.” He says as he gets to his feet. He walks to the kitchen with his empty beer bottle and drops it into the bin beside the fridge. “Youse don't mind?”

“No, work away. We'll see you tomorrow.” Cillian insists.

“I'll come with you,” Síle says, uncurling her legs from the sofa. She hands Griff her empty wine glass to place in the kitchen and gets up off the sofa. She stretches as she stands and fixes her shirt as she relaxed her body again. “And youse will keep it down tonight, yeah?” She says, fixing Cillian with a falsely serious stare. “Hearing my brother orgasm isn't on my bucket list.”

Your mouth drops open and, in a flutter of embarrassment, you turn your face into Cillian's chest and groan against his sternum. He laughs, though, and it vibrates your entire body. “Fuck off,” he says, still laughing, and tightens his arm around you as you pretend to cry.

Síle is chuckling as she walks away and you look up again, shaking your head, and watch the two of them disappear up the stairs before looking up at Cillian. “I am so embarrassed.” You shake your head.

He laughs again and pats his hand against you, a silent ask for you to move, and he gets up as you draw away from his body. “Ah stop, she's only messing.” He says. He scuffs his socked feet across the floor as he takes his beer bottle and your empty wine glass into the kitchen. “And judging by the display earlier, I'd say it was you she heard, not me.” He teases, coming back around the wall, and runs his hand through his hair as he yawns. “Wanna go to bed or are we putting that movie on?” He asks.

“Bed,” you say and stand up. “The boys wanted picking up before ten tomorrow. Well, Aran. I still got nothing from Malachy.”

“He's working the whole weekend,” Cillian says, “He wants to drop in on Monday before Síle heads home.”

“Did Aran speak to you again?” You ask. You flit about the room, turning off lamps and sockets before you both head up to bed.

“Yeah,” he says, as he heads to the front door. He checks that it's locked - it always is - and sets the alarm. “He was grand,” he says, “So whatever he was in bad humour over before didn't seem to be on him then.”

You smile, “I told you. He's a young man, let him be arsey occasionally.” You smile.

He nods slowly - he knows you're right, you know. He sighs deeply and jerks his head towards the stairs, “C’mon,” he says with a smirk. “Well put up the volume for Síle.”

[ejzah]

Blunt Force, Part 8

Kensi woke up with a terrible headache and feeling completely unrested. It took her a moment to remember why she felt so awful, then it came back to her with awful, stunning clarity.

She’d kissed Deeks. Or he’d kissed her. Either way, she hadn’t stopped it.

Honestly, Kensi couldn’t say exactly why she’d decided to cross that boundary. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to connect to Deeks when he couldn’t remember anything about their relationship. At least that sounded better than taking advantage of her recently concussed partner’s memory loss.

The last time they’d kissed had been fleeting and underscored by the immediate danger of their undercover operation. This time, she’d had enough to remember and appreciate the feel of Deeks’ lips on hers, the softness of his hair between her fingers, and the overwhelming desire that filled her. Then, after admitting how much she’d wanted to kiss him, she’d run off like a lunatic.

Groaning, Kensi rolled onto her stomach and pushed her face into her pillow. She’d just made their already complicated relationship that much messier. Their next interaction was going to be incredibly awkward.

She sat up suddenly as she realized the sun shone brightly through her open curtains. Ignoring the pain that spiked through her forehead, and grabbed her watch.

“Dammit!” she hissed. It was after seven, which meant she’d left Deeks to fend for himself for over twelve hours.

Fumbling for her phone, she checked for any new messages. Realistically, she hadn’t expected Deeks to contact her, but she was still disappointed when her only notification included a meme from Nell. Normally, Deeks would have sent her half a dozen messages, pretending nothing awkward had happened.

After a few moments of hesitating with her thumbs hovering over the keypad, she typed out a simple message.

Hey, how are you doing?

Kensi waited a full five minutes for a response. When none came, she put her phone to the side, and slid out of bed. He was probably just sleeping and didn’t need her hovering over him.

She managed to forget about Deeks for approximately two minutes straight while getting ready. As she brushed her hair, her thoughts started to spiral again.

What if something had happened to him? He could be sick from another bout of vertigo. Or god, what if the doctors were wrong and he actually had a brain bleed?

That last thought stopped her mid-brush through her hair. She couldn’t risk it. Throwing her still-damp her back in a clip, she pulled on the first pair of shoes she found, grabbed her keys, and texted Nell on her way out the door to say she’d be running a couple hours late.

***

Kensi knocked in Deeks’ front door for the third time, waiting impatiently for some sound of life. Again, images of Deeks passed out in the middle of the floor assaulted her and she started to reach for her keys again, intending to use the emergency key Deeks gave her during their first year as partners.

Just as she started reach for the lock, she heard a bolt being thrown and the door opened a few inches. Deeks’ face appeared in the opening; he squinted at her, wincing against the morning light.

“Kensi?” he said after a slightly too long pause.

“Hey.” Now that he was in front of her, clearly alive, if not completely well, she felt a little foolish.

“What are you doing here?”

“I—um, I just wanted to check in on you. I didn’t hear from you all night,” she explained, automatically doing her own assessment.

He looked awful. His skin had that slightly grayish tinge she associated with sickness with darker stripes under his eyes.

“I am so sorry,” she apologized, and Deeks gave her a confused look.

“Why?”

“For abandoning you. I said I’d stay with you and then I just left, and now look at you.”

“I’d be offended if I didn’t feel so terrible,” he said, and Kensi’s guilt surged. He opened the door a little wider, turning away as he waved her through with a grimace. “Come in. It’s too bright out here.”

All the blinds and curtains were drawn inside, leaving the living room as dark as it could get during the daytime. The coffee table had a few cups that hadn’t been there yesterday and a collection of random objects that made Kensi think Deeks had been trying to distract himself.

Making himself comfortable on the couch, Deeks rested his cheek on his fist, suppressing a yawn.

“Do you want some coffee or tea? I can make some. Or breakfast. I mean, I don’t really cook, but I can pour cereal or go out and get you something,” Kensi offered.

“Coffee sounds nice,” he sighed. “But you don’t have to wait on me.”

“I don’t mind.” She hurried off before Deeks could question her motives or she could say or do anything else to embarrass herself.

It took about ten minutes for the coffee to brew, and like a complete coward, she didn’t leave the kitchen the entire time. She poured them each a cup, carrying it back out to the living room.

Deeks had switched from one side of the couch to the other, an arm thrown over her face. She thought he might be sleeping until he peeked out from under his elbow, sitting up enough to accept the coffee.

“Thanks.” He inhaled deeply and took a cautious sip.

Kensi stayed standing, acutely aware of the uncomfortable silence, but not sure how to break it.

“So, are we going to talk about why you left last night?” Deeks asked, cutting right to the chase.

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping we’d ignore it. Go on with our lives like it never happened,” she joked.

“Ouch.” The word didn’t have its usual snap behind it, but once again it was such a Deeks thing, her Deeks, to say, she found herself moving closer. “Obviously you can do whatever you want, but it doesn’t seem particularly healthy.”

Well, that was the understatement of the year. Sitting on the other side of the couch, Kensi heaved a sigh. It was so hard to dent Deeks anything when he was hurt and confused.

“We have a ‘thing’,” she explained, gesturing expansively with her hands to encompass their unique relationship.

“A ‘thing’,” Deeks repeated dubiously.

“You know, we flirt and probably have way too much physical comments, but never actually talk about how we might feel and mostly pretend nothing’s going on.”

“That sounds…confusing.”

“Yeah, well, we’re kind of a mess,” she admitted, and Deeks laughed softly, his grin lazy, and a little slow.

“So when we kissed last night—?” He gave her a questioning look and she ran her hands over her thighs before facing him fully.

“It was the first time.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” She offered him a grim smile, clutching her mug of coffee like it would solve all her problems.

“Where does that leave us?” Deeks wondered.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with any of that just yet.” She gestured again to indicate the kiss. “I do know I’m not going anywhere, I mean unless you ask me to get out.” Deeks smiled again and it gave her the courage to continue. “You’re my partner and friend and I will be here with you and for you as long as I can.”

“I think I can handle that.” Holding out his free hand, Deeks waited for her to bridge the gap between them and take it. When she did, he squeezed with just enough pressure for it to feel like a promise.

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Could y'all imagine adult Jason todd if he had a significant other that likes to bake especially when stressed or sad or whatever and one night he comes home and finds her absolutely devastated in the middle of the kitchen floor just sitting in the middle hysterically upset over a tray of cookies that just did not cookie (totally not based on something that has happened to me lol) anyways here's how I think that would go..

Jason stepping into the main living area notices a beeping noise coming from the kitchen along with the scent of smoke and what he could only assume was burning chocolate chips? He really wasn't entirely sure though of course he slowly made his way into the kitchen only to find the love of his life curled up in a ball on the floor crying over a tray of what he assumed was some sort of baked good maybe an attempt at cookies... He's quiet as he takes in the situation and tries to assess exactly what happened but after a moment or so if tanaajdng in the walkway he walks over to her and gently lifts her into his arms with one hand wrapped tightly around her and his face partially buried in her hair, he gingerly reaches down and picks up the trayy off the floor.

She said something like "Came full it's pot", which he knew she meant careful it's hot but still he couldn't help but chuckle.

The rumble of his chest made it a bit easier to breathe and relax but still she spent all day on those cookies and it's all she wanted after seeing all the awful things on social media that involved the government and the constant fear mongering on the news, plus with her period all she wanted was a sweet treat and maybe to surprise Jay and they were fucking ruined, she didn't understand the dough acted like cookie dough in the mixing process the oven was at the right temperature why was it such a fucking disaster why was she..

Gingerly Jason placed the tray on the stove still keeping a firm grip on his girl taking care to not drop her nor burn her by mistake he shuts off the timer to the stove and turns that off too, he could feel her overthinking, and gingerly he reached over and broke off a piece of the crispy chunks on the tray and began to munch on it despite it tasting of burned chocolate and a strange salty bitterness, there was also a nice sweetness to it as well, honestly he could see these being really good cookies.

"hey it's alright love, it happens to the best of us, honestly it's not bad they just need a bit of tlc, how about we take a break from the kitchen just for tonight, and tomorrow we'll try again together, no need to beat yourself up over baked goods, ya know even Alfred messes up from time to time".

While she appreciated his attempt she just couldn't find a way to smile gingerly Jason walked back out towards the living room with her in arm and gently placed her on the couch, her eyes were big and a tad bit puffy, he could tell she's had an especially hard day, he wasn't normally one for many words but tonight he felt like for her he had all of them.

"hey love I promise you it's alright what's got you so upset over these cookies, I know your the best baker around even better then Alfred, you make amazing things all the time tonight was just , a flook its not a reflection of you or your worth, messing up a batch of cookies doesn't make you worth any less, I'll love you always regardless of any kitchen mishaps and shenanigans come on we all have kitchen blunders, you remember that time I tried to pressure cook spaghetti and it turned into paste?! And you and Alfred tried your best to at least try it but I just would not let you anywhere near it because even i knew it was awful."

At that she finally did crack a small smile, but it was a bit short lived tears began to well up in her eyes she tried to hide it she hated her emotions more then anything she still struggled to be vulnerable with him, the way she grew up emotions were dangerous he couldn't blame her for her reactions or how she felt about things it's why he always treated her with extra care.

Gingerly he reached out and brushed the tears from her face and gingerly turned her head to face him eye to eye, he noticed the slight red flush that seemed to creep up her neck and it's like he could almost see the anxiety working through her he wasn't quite sure of how he could tell but now he thinks he figured out why she was so upset and heartbroken over the cookies.

"love is it the fact that it feels like you wasted ingredients or food, cause you don't have to worry about that anymore I'm more then capable of providing for you, for us, I know you're also independent but it's alright it was a mistake I'm sure this type of thing happens all the time".

Slowly she nodded her head the redness was still there but slowly she found herself speaking but it was hard because she couldn't fully grasp her thoughts verbally speaking was not something she was good at and her emotions god that was the worst it made her anxious when she tried to open her mouth all she could do was just sit there and cry which made her feel that much more worthless first the cookies now she was soaking her boyfriends shirt with her tears and he probably already had a really long night.

She felt the warmth of his arms wrap around her and vaguely she felt herself getting lifted into the air with a gently muttered command if wrap your legs around me she complied and honestly it was nice to feel his warmth and listening to the steady rhythm of his heart beat, yet even still it was hard to find any real joy when she peaked out from over his shoulder she found he was headed to the kitchen again towards the pan of nightmares, she felt him shift her weight just slightly, it made her a little uneasy but out of all the years she's been with him he's never once dropped her.

Soon there was a scraping noise to be heard of metal on metal when she looked again she could see through slightly blurred vision that he was scraping the burnt mess that was her cookies off the pan and onto a.. plate?!

As he did this one handed he began humming a soft lullaby in Arabic, in a way it was soothing listening to him hum she felt her eyes getting just a tad bit heavy she felt herself relaxing in his grip she knew she was safe when he was here, even from her own thoughts she slowly found herself feeling as though she were drifting and maybe she was in a way she felt weightless and free...

CRUNCH.. CRUNCH..

Her heavy eyes snapped open only to blurrily make out the shape of jay eating some sort of snack off a plate it took a few moments of squinting to realize that's the monstrosity from the tray of doom she wanted to reach over and stop him, what if it made him sick surely eating that much burnt chocolate would make him ill, when she reached out towards him he gently swatted her away and instead pulled her closer to his side wrapped her up in his arms.

"they're delicious I've never tasted anything better, and they're that much better because you made them no one I know can bake like you do, now relax and sleep, don't worry about me I grew up on the streets remember this isn't nearly the worst thing I've eaten in fact it's the best thing I've had in years maybe we could put this on rotation for snacks every few weeks," .slowly he picked up another burnt clump and chomped it despite herself she found herself smiling at him, though still she couldn't fight back the tears that threatened to come down, and she didn't because this was the first time all day today that she wasn't crying from despair or anxiety but because in this moment she knew what real love was and that it existed only with him she found herself pressing herself into his chest nestling herself there taking comfort in the sounds of his quiet crunching somehow she felt better and as though the sun existed again. She began to drift off and the next day she awoke to find Jay by her side with his arms wrapped around her and when she looked towards the kitchen there seemed to be a pile of new groceries on the stove and various boxes that looked like they housed recipe cards.

When she looked over back at Jay she found that he was watching her with his lazy smile and shining eyes.

"I see you've noticed the surprise, today if your up to it we'll bake together Alfred put together a bunch of recipe cards he found in his old families storage and some recipes from Martha and Thomas Wayne, he gave us full access to them and Bruce also gave his blessing, so whenever your ready I'd love to help you in the kitchen and this time I'll ensure nothing goes wrong and if it does regardless it'll get eaten, he said this last part with a playful lazy smile and she found she felt incredibly light and actually happy

...

[boobersandstuff]

Just wanted to say, I 100% agree and also don't understand how it was homophobic. I think back then it would've been but over time & the context of how rick writes queer characters has changed so much that, you look back at that scene and you realise, damn, that's good rep right here. In my oppion anyway.

I'm happy that nico made you feel so seen because honestly I'm exactly the same! Not with the queer (I'm aroace but not a gay man) stuff, I grew up lucky that at a young age I learn what queerness was and fell in love with it! It my favourite thing, my hyperfixation for about 2 Years or so. So I never hated myself for it, but I did & do have really bad self-esteem.

Instead for a time, I had internalised abilism, wishing I wasn't autistic or adhd and instead normal. Hiding it and masking because I was so ashamed about who I was. So I can relate to nicos internalised stuff to a certain point.

I also grew up an outcast, ostrosaed, alone, lonely for my premative years. So I understand nicos trauma & stuff a lot more.

I feel so seen by him in so many ways, so while reading the sun & the star, to see that, not only does he heal & get a happy ending, he gets a boyfriend. Nico gets a special person who's always been around, it's just not until then that the universe allowed him to have him.

Honestly it just makes me so happy and seen because nicos struggles & my struggles are nearly 1-to-1. Even the ages of when our worst traumas are 1-to-1.

So to read a character who's been nothing but miserable for so long, not only heal, and get a happy ending, a special person (boyfriend in this case), makes me feel so seen because, as of Writing this, that's me. I'm in my own healing arch from the awful stuff that happened to me, I've found my special person, my friends, people who I love so much and treat me right.

It just feels so extra right for me, and I know if I had read nicos character arch back then it would've felt even better, like a hope I would get better one day and I would be happy. And I can say with full honestly, that... I did. I got better, I am better, I'm happy.

I have almost achieved all my dreams (almost), so I'm ok, and for once I mean it. So again, nico getting a happy ending while me myself having my own, feels so right and I just look back at mini me and just smile, proud of myself for sticking it through :,]

Saw this tiktok and it perfectly articulated what I've been thinking when I saw some posts on here nitpicking the comming out scene in tsats!

Like, YES!!! THANK YOU!! it was so upsetting to see that, and demigods are more atune to their mortal side rather than their godly side. They don't know wether its safe to come out to EVERYONE here. I'm sure demigods have come out to their friends in private, but definitely not the entire camp at once!

Can we celebrate character coming out scenes instead of nitpicking and getting angry because "it doesn't make any sense" or "is unrealistic" or even "not perfect". Especially with nico, when he did that, it shows just how far he's came and that he's healing and that, he's not afraid anymore, he doesn't hate himself anymore. He isn't ashamed.

After the shit-show with cupid this is a scene he more than deserved! I'll probably go more into depth in my video essay on him but yeah, he deserved that and it makes me really angry seeing people say that sort of bullshit.

Just wanted to share this :]

[madqueenalanna]

i've been relistening to "would've, could've, should've" by taylor swift and "29" by demi levato and sadly i can relate to both of them but the worst part is reading the comments and seeing how many girls share that experience "i was 16, he was 28" "i was 17, he was 28" "i was 19, he was 30" and me personally, i was 17/18 and he was 32. it's just horrific how many of us have this in common. almost every girl in the us has the experience of being preyed upon/catcalled/harassed/"dating" a fully adult man when we were under age. and a 17 yr old girl and 20 yr old guy doesn't mean much but so many of us have a SIGNIFICANT age gap and it's just so sad and awful. i hate it. if my daughter ever experienced this, scorched earth. just so sad

[14dayswithyou]

💖 Day 3.5 is now available! 💖

For the last couple of months, only Server Boosters had access to the 3.5 update... Buuuuut now it's available for everyone to play in the 14DWY Discord — and soon itch.io once I'm happy with the QA and state of the game — so please don't feel pressured to join unless you want to!!

The full devlog + even more screenshots are under the cut ^^

What's been added to the 3.5 version?

📺 Streamer Mode!

I've been told that it's difficult to stream and monetise age-restricted videos on YouTube and Twitch, so I added an option to remove the sexual content and strong language used in the demo.

Now y'all can invite Ren into your bed for cuddles without putting your streamer career on the line /silly /lh

This won't affect the 18+ rating or dark themes/elements of the game, however! Although Streamer Mode will prevent you from seeing any "gruesome" CGs in the future, most of the core elements of the game will still be tied to the choices and decisions you make. So you won't miss out on the overall experience by using streamer mode!!

⚙️ Custom Pronouns!

It only took me one entire year to get around to it, but you can finally choose your own preferred pronouns (or use a set of pronouns instead)... At the cost of being able to change them mid-game ^^;

Since the original pronoun screen wouldn't update until a new scene was displayed, I temporarily disabled the feature. But once I find a workaround, I'll bring it back!

💗 Choose how others perceive you!

You can now choose how the cast and narration perceive you! Originally, the narration was kept strictly gender-neutral (outside of pronouns and genitalia picked by the player), but this will soon change in future updates.

For more clarity: you don't get to choose the words specifically, but you can choose between masculine, feminine, and androgynous terms!

📋 Separate top and bottom genitalia!

You can now choose your tatas and pps separately! >:3

Alongside that, you can also choose your preferred body type!

I removed the "both" genitalia option because a few players still assumed it was an obscure version of "intersex". That wasn't my intention and I don't want to mislead anyone, so I took it out for now ^^;

I also didn't want to include a screenshot of the new genitalia choices in action (because it's NSFW), so y'all get the same character menu screen for the nth time instead lmao

📱 Relationship Screen Overhaul!

You can now change your own status for more immersion, and long-term Server Boosters will eventually be able to submit and use their own icon within the game as well!

Stalking finding your friends has now become easier by using "Buddy Maps"; a new app that allows you to see the location of all the cast members!

I want to offer players more incentive to check the relationship screen since they tend to miss the status updates, so hopefully this might help ;v;

It also says it "updates every few hours" so folks don't go overboard and check every 5 seconds to see where Ren is gdsghf (also keep in mind that he's a hacker lol)

🖤 Additional Scenes Update!

Day 2 received a brand new CG!!!!! Originally, I planned on only adding a few CGs sporadically throughout the game, but it didn't feel right to leave Day 2 so... empty... so I added a brand new CG to (hopefully) make things feel more balanced and natural!

If you decline Teo's offer on Day 3, Leon will now call and try to convince you to reconsider. However, players are still allowed to decline, and if they do, they'll reach a dead end.

After listening to feedback on itch, I changed some of the dialogue during Days 1-3 to make it seem more consistent! They're only small changes though, so it's honestly not worth looking for sdgjssga

🎶 Updated BGM and SFX!

I wanted to try out a different style of music to see if it fits the vibe of 14DWY more! The BGM features more acoustics to suit the "beachy" theme of Corland Bay, though I made a conscious effort to include piano elements as well to stay true to the original!!

I figured it'd be better to give players a live example before I make a poll (to see if they prefer the change or not) and publish it to Itch.

Some new SFX have also been added, though it's very minimal and honestly not that noticeable.

How to download and play the update?

(warning: clicking on the following links will open Discord!!) To download the Day 3.5 update, simply join the 14DWY Discord server, verify your age, and visit the "14dwy-updates" channel!

Alternatively, you can also wait until the update is publicly released on Itch to play it as well!! (It normally gets released shortly after a round of QA testing/getting feedback from the server, though I may release it earlier if I feel like it hehe ^^)

Enjoy!!

[momentomori24]

[This has been sitting in my draft for a while lol]

When it comes to Curly's failings, I always see people bring up his obvious failure to protect Anya and him prioritising Jimmy, who was the rapist in that situation. Which is completely valid btw and we should rake him through the coals for that alone even more. But I also see too many people saying that Curly "didn't enable Jimmy" or playing softball for his actions. And I could maybe see where that comes from if that incident was the only thing we had to point to-- but that wasn't all he did, is it? Curly being indifferent or not taking Jimmy's mistreatment and belittlement of Anya seriously was hinted at so much earlier than that.

Namely, the very first time we play from Curly's point of view. Let's just skip the fact that Curly was putting everyone in danger by not taking his psych evals seriously and simply giving the same answers to pass them even tho he was shown literal minutes after this scene being clearly not-sane, and go straight to the point I actually wanna get into. Which is this:

These scenes in isolation wouldn't be that bad. From his pov, it's played off as comical and it is. Jimmy being a brony (not really lmao) and getting playfully dragged over it is funny. But unfortunately this is the first example out of many for Curly's complacency. Anya is complaining about Jimmy not taking his psych evals or her seriously, which is easy to believe considering how much he rags on her for "not being a good nurse" (she kept Curly alive on hopes and dreams how dare you). So he keeps making her do silly and inappropriate reports she clearly doesn't wanna do, which is kinda shitty (also borders on harassment). But rather than actually saying something about Jimmy's behaviour or even acknowledging how it sucks he says this:

Mate, that's not a good thing 💀 He's clearly aware that the problem is Jimmy's lack of respect for Anya specifically. He knows that if he, his friend and a man in power, were the one doing the evals Jimmy wouldn't try that disrespect. But it's Anya, a meek woman who ranks lower than him so he thinks he can get away with it (which he DOES), and Curly's shown as comfortable in knowing that. He doesn't chew Jimmy out for making Anya uncomfortable nor does he reassure her that he will do something about it. All he does is take it off her hands this once and helps Jimmy power through it to get a good diagnosis (even tho we know he's DEFINITELY not sane either). He doesn't even mention Anya's discomfort or confront him on his inappropriate behaviour, just teases Jimmy in good fun instead because he doesn't think of it as anything serious. It's subtle and pretty minor in comparison to everything else, but I think it's worth pointing out. Especially because this convo takes place after Jimmy had assaulted her, which makes this so much worse.

If you need any more evidence of Curly being an enabler you need not look further than Anya herself. And I'm not just talking about the way he failed her here-- I'm talking about Anya's own view of Curly and the way said view influences her actions.

Just look at her choice of wording. "What would you have done". This is in response to him saying that she could've come to him if she were feeling stressed, which she-- in his eyes-- didn't. The question itself implies that she had no faith in Curly to actually help despite his insistence that he would've, which I think is significant because it shows that she's very much aware of Curly's shortcomings when it comes to her situation AND it's one of the first (or the first time) she actually verbalised her lack of trust towards him or anyone directly. Prior to this scene she had told him about her rape and the rapist, presumably because she trusted him to handle it. And he dismissed her because the rapist was his best friend, and that evidently deeply scarred her. Enough so that she secretly took the gun and hid it someplace else and didn't even tell Curly were that was, because she knows that if Curly has access to it there's a so much greater chance Jimmy will have too, insinuated by the line "the least I can do is make sure he never gets it either". Speaking about the gun:

It sucks so bad that this perception of him isn't even inaccurate nor unjustified. That despite everything Jimmy had done to her and everything he could still do to her, he'd very likely still not allow her access to the gun for protection. Because that's exactly what he didn't do anyway. He didn't attempt to keep her safe from Jimmy, instead he just pretended that nothing was wrong and still let Jimmy's belittlement of her pass. He didn't give her the gun after the incident, because she wouldn't have hid the case if he had. Despite his desperate reassurance that he'd do anything, he did nothing but make it worse for her and she KNOWS that. It's so frustrating knowing he entrusted the axe to Swansea when he needed it but not the gun to Anya when she needed it too. Also this:

The fact that his knee-jerk reaction to her admitting that she's pregnant was "Who would you--" is so fucked, especially considering she's already told him what happened. "Who would you" what? Who would you fuck? Who would you have sex with? That choice of wording drives me up a wall-- SHE wouldn't and didn't do anything or anyone. That was JIMMY. The potential sentence implies that she had any choice or agency in her pregnancy. She didn't. And the fact that Curly had to ask "who" insinuates that he's been putting Jimmy's action out of sight and out of mind the whole time, choosing to not think about them or what happened to Anya at all. And considering he still made her do Jimmy's evaluations despite being able to do them himself and literally didn't even think of making sure she gets psych evals done too--especially AFTER getting sexually assaulted--that might actually be the case (I haven't seen anyone make a stink about that piece of info so I'm going to because what kinda colossal fuck up IS that??).

I vaguely had a post like this in mind but seeing so many people be like "well Anya did some wrong stuff too like leaving Curly alone with Jimmy but you don't get mad at HER for that so why is Curly not doing anything about Jimmy being alone with Anya so different??" actually makes me want to blow some people up. Jimmy's an abuser, sure, but Anya has no real reason to believe that he'd actually harm Curly. From her perspective, they were close, close enough that Curly would not only let Jimmy continuously disrespect her but also get away with assaulting her too. That, and she knows that Jimmy was closer to Curly than anyone and more likely to be civil around him than he ever was to her. She has barely any reasons to suspect Jimmy would harm Curly when they're alone. Curly, on the other hand, has every fucking reason on the planet to think Jimmy would harm her when they're alone. He knows he raped her (likely in her room at night too). He knows that he sexually harasses her. He knows that he doesn't respect her at all. And that was BEFORE the crash. Anya tried insisting on giving Curly his medicine, only for Jimmy to keep aggressively insisting that he'll take care of it despite her protests. Curly didn't try to keep them separate at all even though he was the Captain and had the power to do so. And this should go without saying, but leaving your rapist alone with his best friend that he was close to and enabled/protected him and leaving your friend alone with the woman he raped (and might have repeatedly assaulted given his free access to her) is NOT THE SAME and I'm going to start chucking some people down a waterfall because what the fuck is that argument 💀 Actually leave it to the fandom of the game where the rape of a woman is the catalyst for the events that unfold to use her trauma to defend the guy that enabled it in the first place. Bloody hell.

The reason why this whole Curly discourse pisses me off is because it-- from what I can see-- ONLY brings up his failures 1-0 days before the crash and the Dead Pixel scene (or all the discussion around other points are drowned out by those two). Those scenes, while important to talk about, are not the only things he's done, and focussing on those as the only things is a mistake that comes short of understanding the issue. When it comes to Curly the main defences I see for him are "he was trying not to escalate the situation" and "he was trying to keep things under control the best he can" and "he was waiting for the right time to help Anya", but those don't work when you look at the bigger picture of everything he's done.

He half-assed through his psych eval despite clearly not being sane (and KNOWING he's barely sane, he literally admits it to Jimmy's face). He still continued to task her with Jimmy's psych evals. He brushed over Jimmy's sexual harassment of her as a joke. He didn't think about making sure she got psych evals done herself after being raped. He gave Swansea the axe but didn't give Anya the gun despite it being for "unrest amongst the crew" (whatever the hell THAT means). He let her assault slip his mind that she had to remind him. He's literally a blond man. He took no action to hold Jimmy responsible for anything, and prioritised how his violation of Anya would affect him rather than her. He ignored her demands for him to get rid of Jimmy. He still allowed Jimmy free reign of the ship as co-pilot even after he was openly fantasising about killing everyone and had a major motive and the means to do just that. He was potentially thinking of making her miscarry to cover up what happened. He was so accustomed to her sucking up being disrespected and disturbed that he didn't even notice a difference in her behaviour until she hid the fucking gun. There's so much other shit he's done and hasn't done, and not talking about them or glossing over them makes it so easy for people to argue that he isn't actually an enabler or just minimise the severity of his neglect.

And while I'm already dragging Curly through the mud, I might as well just drag Swansea too. I've seen too many people being like "Anya should've told Swansea instead" and "Swansea was the one that actually took responsibility". Like, y'all realise he's not that much better than Curly, right? He already knew about what happened to Anya-- he admits it to Jimmy's face-- but he didn't do shit. He knew, but he still got completely shitfaced for months despite her earlier protestation to that (for very understandable reasons). He knew, but he still let Jimmy have the axe AND be alone with Anya while having it. He knew, but when Anya locked herself in the Medical and Daisuke and Jimmy asked for his help he didn't budge nor really showed any care. He knew, but the reason he finally decided to do something about Jimmy wasn't Anya, it was Daisuke. Her suffering and her eventual death weren't enough for him to take action either.

This game, on top of everything else, is a great depiction of rape culture. It doesn't just include the rapists, but the people (mostly men) that stay silent, do nothing, make excuses for and protect the perpetrator for whatever reason, and Swansea and Curly (Curly way more so than Swansea) are both active contributors to the environment that allowed for evil to flourish and continue unhindered until it destroyed them all. And while that arguably doesn't make them evil themselves or as bad as Jimmy, they are so much more a part of the bigger problem than the fandom likes to admit.

[Ok since this is kinda gaining a bit of traction please consider helping these guys out here, here and here. Thanks!]