#the inconsistency of a lot of things really bothers me

[anacrea]

i haven't left this job feeling good abt myself in like a year and a half fml

[remcadll]

Gen obsessed with how.. *dead* your Jason's color pallete is. Like, that's corpse pale right there. Not a spec of blood left flowing in there (also father Todd's skin being full of color in comparison is a nice touch)

THANK YOU I love making him look a bit ghoulish. Guy who's not supposed to be alive but yes he is. no he isn't <3

[kijosakka]

dramaturgy; celebrity manhunt, pre-london -- im going to make it easy on myself and skim through pre-london first, as the most divergence in this AU happens during and after the fact. part of pre-london is the pre-season itself, the celebrity manhunt special.

so action comes and goes, noah gets out of the season and remains as chris’ PA for the year break. in that time, months before it actually happens, chris finds out about the new season (with producer word both pushing for ‘more drama/engagement’ or smth along those lines, and *noahs actual involvement this time).

while something something contracts might prevent him from just outright telling noah, i’d imagine that he’d all but say there’s going to be a new season and heavily imply that noah wont be able to get out of it this time. not only that but he also implies that maybe noah should give opening up to people on the show a chance,, cause, yk, hes about to be stuck on a jet with them,, for weeks,,

of course, noah is pissed at first. but in so many weeks or whatever he begrudgingly accepts it and just resolves to throw it like usual. as for the ‘opening up to people’, he lands on owen.

owen was nice enough, genuine to a fault and the person least likely to use any of noahs bare slivers of vulnerability against him. hes safe.

[*noahs involvement within the show as something that the viewers are very interested in. he could be ratings gold and they know it.]

now im a little bit torn over the whole ‘chris’ assistant’ bit; similar to the awakeathon i would imagine it might just be missing entirely and he would be fired before the fact. or it could happen, as a way to give his on-screen character some information. as a ‘look everyone, i have Depth. stop prying into my life please’

either way, whatever. *total drama dirtbags show up, chris locks them out of the venue, they dont win any awards, bus chase etc.

^ note here, per usual noah comes off as his usual uncanny self around the cast. sierra is there as well, im sure thats Something for her. however he does take notice of one (1) alejandro burromuerto, recognizing him and focusing on him. < this comes back during introductions, where he notes his behavior towards the cast.

[*total drama dirtbags existed as the original ‘new TD season’ that noah found out about and worked on for a little bit before he finds out that it was not in fact a real show and a coverup for something else (a grab for an extra contestant for WT) < hence, he knows josé from interviews/auditions he helped with, but doesn’t know alejandro since he decided one brother was Enough]

^ and just for extra clarity on the TDD thing bc ive kind of muddled it, say noah finds out about dirtbags, helps out whatever. and then the news breaks that its a fake phish for a new contestant for an actual show — fine enough, he’s already behind the cameras, so he can just stay there, right?

no, actually. its kinda just slung at him that he has to be part of the cast (smth smth his job is threatened under ‘contractual obligation’ like its not wildly unconscionable). and he is soooo pissed off, so incredibly angry at the circumstances he’s landed himself in somehow.

< but he is aware that he cant just bottle everything up because it will spill over; chris said he needs something to his character, so maybe he can funnel his anger into playing the game a little more. as the most outlet he’ll get before he can throw it and just be done with the show entirely.

^ and then,,, alejandro.

while the actual events of pre-london remain largely unchanged, his dynamics are changed with the presence of four different variables: alejandro, izzy, owen, and sierra.

alejandro i’ll get into more later with a longer post detailing what they think of each other mutually, but im gna touch on alejandro a little; with picking off team victory and believing heather is the only person who’s noticed his facade, he just,, doesnt really distinguish noah as a threat worthy of focusing on.

^ throughout the game and the events of, he does single noah out as the most tolerable of all his teammates but doesnt offer much intrigue beyond that until *new york. (to note, he’s a lot more comfortable with [oblivious to??] noahs detachedness than the rest of the cast since that empty demeanor is p common among whatever diplomatic events hes been a part of)

izzy is someone who’s character i established mostly in the long post i had about her?? but it is worth mentioning now though that she does stick very close by to noah throughout her time on the show, and routinely interacts with him where most of the cast had given up trying altogether.

^ it builds,, a kind of rapport between her and noah?? in some way after the fact he’d recognize it as a nice, ‘i-want-to-know-more-about-you-and-also-befriend-you’ thing, but during he reacts more like a yowling cat tbh. he’s built up this reputation and facade that make people stay away from him, and now izzy wants to stick around him and threaten his defense mechanism? no thanks. (< further reasoning for why he belays insults towards her during WT under the guise of his own facade)

owen is a special case — in the bus chase before the season, noah took the time to sit by him and build up the proper beginnings of a friendship, which owen is thrilled about < during his time on island, owen was really fond of noahs quips and ‘just wished he would open up a bit more!!’,, he thinks some friends would b good for him and hes right

^ and again, owen is noahs safest option to 'endear' himself to the audience with a friend. hes so genuine and understanding of where noahs projected character falls flat, and like izzy keeps interacting and wants to interact with him where the rest of the cast gave up (and noah the person becomes very fond of owen and the reprieve their friendship offers him very quickly)

and finally,,, sierra. i actually want to talk more about the Audience as an entity in this AU in a later post and sierra ties into that heavily. as established, noah is the one cast member she just doesn't know anything about. of each blog she runs dedicated to each member of the show, his is the emptiest; the most baseless. being in proximity with the man of mystery is exciting!

^ noah still comes off as very uncanny valley to sierra and his detachedness is immediately clear. but the key difference to her and and cast is that she has the Audience perspective --- he's intriguing moreso than offputting. (and also theres definitely Something there about the meta-analysis of panopticon as an in-universe topic and how sierra would relate/connect that once it becomes clear to the cast why noah acts as he does)

[*new york (same time space as the aftermath?) as the moment when sierra prattles off information about the cast but comes up with nothing on noah that his own interest is piqued just a liitle bit, and he starts building a proper relationship up with noah as the straightmen to the cast. < also come after london is something he looks back on as a Hmm. moment wondering what noah knows about himself.

^ alejandro does believe their rapport is one-sided bc of his own facade, which i want to mention simply bc he's wrong. it is no-sided. both of them r faking.]

now getting to the episodes themselves -- minor changes/additions:

in the yukon, he doesn't try to cuddle bridgette

^ also in the yukon, he shivers less visibly than the cast (think when in cold weather you get those microtremors that really fucking hurt after a few seconds). this is only because it feeds into the android joke-turned-conspiracy for the folks watching on the aftermath set

in new york, he was not actually asleep in the carriage nor did he explicitly pretend to be. he just Kept Quiet when heather did her thing

in germany, he doesn't go up to alejandro when he falls off the platform, but he does prompt owen to ask something along a similar line [to his canon ones]

in the amazon, he's the one to point out owens absence

in paris, the line of 'this totally works on my dog' he changes to smth like 'totally works on dogs',, for his own exercise of privacy really

in the space of the jamaica aftermath, he again disappears from the rest of the cast à la playa des losers save for owen. owen gets a hello during mealtimes and hes the only one.

and finally, the episodes of 'significant' development with noahs intrigue in alejandro:

beginning before any real events of the show during introductions

^ kicked off in germany similarly to canon, emphasized by newfoundland and the grab for DJ's alliance

and cemented completely [his interest in unmasking him] in jamaica, continuing onward with london around when he discovers that alejandro is acting skittery towards him because of his own suspicions

[rin-rin-kururin]

other than that... i'm tired. prepare for a long rant in the tags if you decide to read more

[offthewall1979]

my review of Moonwalk: hot mess. ★★★.

[bravevolunteer-a]

me vs the urge to rewrite my bio for no reason

[t-u-i-t-c]

maybe i'll make a few ghost sets...

[wonderlandwalker]

Two can play (but three's more fun)

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭��𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x reader x eddie munson 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when Steve catches Eddie staring a little too long at his girlfriend, he doesn’t throw a punch—he extends an invitation. And as Eddie quickly learns, Steve doesn’t just share; he teaches, with slow, filthy demonstrations. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, just pure filth really, posessive steve, desperate eddie, a lot of swearing, I couldn't help it, maybe some repetitive words but smut vocabulary just has it's limits

𝐚/𝐧: I got insanely stoned and wrote this so if it came out too horny i'm sorry, also im ovulating oops. I've prolly been very inconsistent with grammar tenses but I can't be bothered to check it. I usually correct my grammar after i've already posted so the masterlist link has significantly less errors than earlier versions

The living room was bathed in the flickering glow of the TV, some forgotten horror movie playing on low volume—The Thing, maybe, or was it Halloween?—its eerie soundtrack warping under the weight of the thick, sweet-smelling haze curling through the air. 

Eddie had outdone himself with this new strain, something sticky and potent that left his limbs heavy and his usual sharp edges dulled into something languid and warm, his thoughts perhaps a bit too syrupy.

“—I know I talk a big game, man, but fuck. I have no clue what I’m doing when it actually comes down to it.”

His voice was a low mumble, words slipping out like he hadn’t meant to say them at all. He tipped his head back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling as if it might hold answers.

Steve blinks at him, slow and rhythmically, before snorting. “What, like… at all?”

“Yeah, man. Like—”  Eddie waves a hand vaguely, the silver of his rings glinting as he moves. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what sounds are real and which ones are fake? It’s fucking Russian roulette.”

The next reaction from Steve is immediate, no hesitation. Just a lazy, knowing smirk as he stretches his arms behind his head. “Huh. Well, once you know the difference, it becomes pretty obvious.” He pauses, just long enough to take a quick glance over Eddie’s face. “If you really need some pointers, I can ask my girlfriend if she wants to help you out.”

Eddie nearly comes crashing to the fucking floor.

Because fuck. He’s had a crush on you for, like, forever. Not that he’s ever admitted it out loud — not when Steve Harrington has a reputation for rearranging the faces of guys who so much as look at you wrong. Eddie has seen it happen: some poor asshole at a party, fingers skimming your ass as you passed, and bam — Steve’s fist in his jaw before anyone could blink. There’s even a rumour some other idiot once stared just a little too long at the way your lips wrapped around the neck of your beer bottle and then slurred, “Wanna spin the bottle?” Word is, Steve dropped him in one hit. No warning. No theatrics. Just pure, primal instinct.

So yeah, Eddie’s kept his mouth shut.

But now? Now Steve is watching him with this lazy, half-lidded expression, like he hadn’t just detonated a goddamn bomb in Eddie’s head.

“You’re fucking with me.” Eddie pleads, his voice rough.

Steve just grins — slow, deliberate — his eyes dark with something Eddie can't name. “Nah, man. She’s actually really into that kinda stuff.” His voice drops, gravel scraping over each word, and Eddie’s stomach flips “And I’d do anything for her.”

The air feels thick as Eddie’s pulse roars in his ears, his throat suddenly bone-dry. Was this a test? A trap?  Christ.�� Harrington was going to be the death of him, and worse—Eddie knew he’d fucking thank him for it.

His fingers twitch at his sides. “...Yeah?”

Steve’s smile only widens, but his eyes soften. “Yeah.”

When Eddie shows up at your place the next night, he’s strung tight enough to power Hawkins twice over, his pulse hammering in his throat. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours convincing himself he’d imagined the whole conversation, that there was no way Steve Harrington just offered— 

And then you open the door.

Dressed in nothing but one of Steve’s old band tees, the fabric riding high on your thighs, you greet him with a smile that damn near stops his heart. “Hey, Eddie.”

His mouth goes dry. And before he can choke out a response, Steve is behind you, hands sliding possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. And then — Jesus Christ.

The kiss Steve gives you isn’t just heated — it’s filthy. All tongue and teeth, your fingers twisting in his hair as he backs you against the doorframe, his hands already under your shirt like it’s a regular Tuesday afternoon.

Eddie’s knees nearly give out.

“Watch,” Steve murmurs against your lips when he finally breaks away, his gaze flicking to Eddie over your shoulder. His voice dark and commanding. “And pay attention.” 

Then, right there in the doorway, Steve pulls the shirt over your head — meticulously slow, like he wants Eddie to memorise every second. And, well — Eddie does.

He memorises the way your breath hitches when Steve’s fingers brush over your ribs, the way you arch into his touch, the soft, real sounds spilling from your lips as Steve’s mouth finds the top of your breasts— 

Eddie’s throat protests as he swallows, fingers twitching at his sides like he can’t decide whether to bolt or drop to his knees.

Steve notices —of course he does— and his lips curl into something dangerously close to a challenge. “You just going to stand there, Munson?” His hands slide down your hips, squeezing just hard enough to make you softly gasp. “Thought you wanted to learn.” Eddie manages to get control over his brain just long enough to answer “I— Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. I do.”

Steve hums, pleased, and spins you around to face Eddie fully, his palm splayed possessively over your stomach. “Then get over here.”

It’s not a request.

Eddie moves like a man in a trance, close enough now to feel the heat of your skin, to catch the intoxicating scent of your perfume. His gaze darts between your face and Steve’s fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your collarbone.

“First lesson,” Steve murmurs, leaning in to nip at your earlobe.  “Don’t just touch. Listen.”  His free hand reaches out, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and dragging it toward you. “Feel how she reacts.”

Eddie’s fingertips brush your waist—hesitant at first, then firmer when you shiver under his touch. His breath hitches as you lean into him, lashes fluttering when his thumb grazes the delicate curve of your ribs.

“Good.”  Steve’s voice is low, eyes locked on Eddie’s every twitch. “Now kiss her.”

Eddie’s head jerks up. “What?”

Steve’s grin is all teeth. “Unless you don’t—”

“No, I—fuck.” He surges forward, crashing his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy and desperate, and he barely gets a taste before Steve yanks you back by the waist, eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.

“Jesus Christ. Not like that.”

Eddie stumbles after you as Steve kicks the door shut behind them. “It’s like you were raised by wolves.”

Eddie opens his mouth to protest—then snaps it shut. Because Steve’s right. He’s a wreck.

“What are you waiting for, a written invitation?”  Steve’s voice is rough with impatience. “Kiss her again.”

Eddie hesitates—just for a second—before lust wins the war. This time, when his lips find yours, it’s still hungry, but it’s also aware, his movements more controlled. For a heartbeat, he’s terrified Steve will deem him unworthy of you altogether and kick him back to the curb—until you moan into it, until your fists twist in his shirt and drag him closer.

Steve groans in approval against your shoulder. “That’s it,” he rasps, pressing you forward just enough that Eddie can feel your heartbeat against his chest. “Now slow down. Make her want it.”

Eddie whimpers, but obeys, pulling back just enough to tease your lower lip between his teeth before licking into your mouth like you’re water and he’s been dying of thirst.

The sound you make — the soft, wanting whine—it's the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Steve pulls you back again, but this time, there’s satisfaction in his grin. “See?”  His thumb swipes over your kiss-swollen lips, smug. “She likes it when you take your time.”

Steve doesn’t let go of you—not really. Even as he nudges you toward the couch, his palm stays glued to the small of your back, steering you like he owns every inch of space you move through. Eddie doesn’t need to be told to follow; his pulse hammers in his throat, fingers flexing like he’s already imagining the weight of you beneath them.

“Sit.” Steve’s order cracks through the air, and Eddie drops onto an armchair like his strings have been cut.

You don’t get the chance to join him. Steve catches your wrist, yanking you back against his chest instead. His mouth brushes your ear, voice a low, possessive hum: “Nah, sweetheart. You’re staying right here.” His fingers trail down your arm before guiding your hand to Eddie’s jaw. “Let him earn it.”

Eddie’s breath stutters. Christ. Up close, you’re devastating. The way your eyes shimmer with pure lust, the way your lips part—just slightly—when Steve’s fingers skim over the lace of your bra. The syrupy moan you let out when he pinches your nipple over it, just enough to make your back arch—

“See that?”  Steve’s voice is rough against your ear. “She gets loud when she’s turned on. You just have to know how to listen.” Eddie nods, swallowing hard. His hands hover over your hips like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve under his touch. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, Munson. You’re not going to break her.” He grabs Eddie’s wrist, pressing his palm flat against your stomach. “Feel how warm she is? How fucking desperate?”

Eddie’s fingers twitch. He can feel it—the rapid rise and fall of your breath, the way your skin burns under his touch.

“Now”, Steve murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder, “show me what you’ve learned.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice.

This time, when he kisses you, it’s relaxed—calculated. He licks into your mouth like he’s savouring it, one hand sliding up your ribs while the other tangles in your hair. And when you moan, when your hips jerk forward like you just can’t help it, Eddie groans against your lips like he’s just discovered fucking religion.

Steve watches, eyes dark with approval. “Better,” he rasps. Then, with a smirk: “Now get on your knees.”

Eddie freezes, and Steve arches a brow,“got a problem?”

“No—fuck, no.”  Eddie’s already sliding to the floor, knees hitting the carpet with a thud. His hands find your thighs, gripping just tight enough to feel the muscle tense under his fingers.

Steve’s smirk widens. “Good.”

The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp—and God, Eddie’s never been so hard in his life.

Steve’s voice is a murmur as he trails a path down your throat, bruises already blooming under his mouth. “Now, make her beg.”

Eddie’s breathing is ragged as he looks up at you—fuck, the way your pupils are blown wide, the way your chest rises with every shaky inhale. Steve’s fingers are still tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing a stray strand behind your ear with a tenderness that feels domestic. Your eyes meet Eddie’s just before they flutter shut, and it’s all the permission he needs. His mouth finds the inside of your knee first, lips dragging slow and hot up your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. Steve hums, tracing your ribs and sliding your bra strap down your shoulder. His palm cups your breast as it spills free, kneading with a lazy possessiveness that has your hips jerking forward — but Eddie holds you steady, determined. 

His tongue traces past the waistband of your panties like he’s trying to memorise the shape of you, and when his eyes flick up to Steve, all he finds is lust, raw and unfiltered. So Eddie hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls, dragging it down your legs as he kisses a trail after it, reverent even in his hunger. His fingers work you with surprising precision, his gaze desperate for approval — and when he curls them just right, you gasp, arching into his touch with a moan loud enough to make Steve’s smirk falter. He wasn’t expecting that.

The slip in Steve’s control sends a thrill through Eddie, and he murmurs against your thigh, voice rough: “You sound so fucking sweet — bet you taste even better.”  Steve’s grip tightens on your hip, hard enough to bruise, but you don’t seem to mind.

He’d meant to teach. Now, he’s learning.

And the way you’re unravelling under Eddie’s touch stirs something awake inside of him. Eddie’s got a musician’s dexterity, his fingers able to coax sinful melodies from you with every twist. When you whimper Eddie’s name, Steve’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t stop him. Just watches with a gaze darker than the midnight sky itself as Eddie’s breath ghosts over you, your thighs trembling. “Please—”

The word barely leaves your lips before Eddie adds another finger, crooking them until your thighs squeeze around his wrist. He groans against your skin, resting his forehead against your leg as the vibration tears another broken sound from your throat. He fucks you with his fingers — slow and deep, then fast and relentless, like he can’t decide whether to savour you or ruin you.

Eddie, drunk on your praise, dares to glance up at Steve with a smirk. Steve’s nostrils flare, but instead of shutting him down, he drags a thumb over your cheek and growls, “You gonna cum for him?” You can’t even answer. Your back arches, toes curling, and Eddie drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. The moment you shatter, he loses it. He’s not sure what destroys him more — the way you choke out his name, begging him not to stop, or the filthy, approving rumble of Steve’s voice as he speaks, “Good girl.”

Eddie finds himself at an impasse, torn between begging for more and staying silent as the two of you decide his fate. His fingers twitch where they grip your thighs, his breath ragged, his entire body coiled tight with anticipation—and fear. Steve detaches himself from nipping at your collarbone when Eddie wavers, his movements faltering. A reprimand flashes in Steve’s darkened gaze, sharp enough to make Eddie shudder again. “Didn’t you hear her, Munson?”  Steve’s voice is a low, warning growl. “She told you not to stop.”

But Eddie freezes. The reality of where he is—what he’s doing—hits him like a freight train. He has no idea how to continue.

But Steve doesn’t tolerate hesitation. His hand fists in Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward with a rough, “Stop thinking.”

Eddie obeys like a man possessed, and the moment his tongue drags over you, his whole body jerks—holy shit. You taste even better than he could’ve dared to dream. Sweet, addictive, and the way you gasp when he flicks his tongue over your clit?  He’s ruined. Forever.

Drunk on you—on the way your fingers tighten in his hair, the way you’re so wet it’s coating your thighs—he laps at you like his life depends on it. Steve watches with drowsy satisfaction, his palm sliding possessively up your stomach to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple just to hear you whimper for him again.

“Listen to how she sounds when you do it right,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with contentment. “Isn’t it the most beautiful sound in the world?” He doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. Instead, he tilts your jaw toward him, locking you in a searing kiss. You moan into Steve’s mouth as Eddie continues, his tongue relentless, his own desperate noises vibrating against you. Steve chuckles darkly when Eddie whimpers, his cock straining against his jeans just from tasting you. He hasn’t even touched himself, but he’s so close he’s shaking.

“Are you going to come just from this, Munson?” Steve drags him off you by his hair, grinning at the dazed, wrecked look on Eddie’s face. “Fuck, look at him, darling. He’s a mess.” Eddie’s lips are slick, his chest heaving, his pupils blown so wide his eyes look black. Steve doesn’t give him a chance to recover. He pushes Eddie back into the armchair, his grip firm, dominant. Then he guides you onto the couch with a smirk.

“You did good,” he tells Eddie, voice dripping with condescension. “Now let me show you great.”

Steve doesn’t waste time. In one smooth motion, he hooks his hands under your knees, spreading you wide —putting you on display— before dragging you to the edge of the couch. His gaze locks onto Eddie’s, making sure he’s watching as he leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, a shudder running through you at the sensation. “See how she shivers?” Steve murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, laced with something Eddie can only describe as devotion. “It’s because she knows what’s coming—” Then he devours you. 

Unlike Eddie’s frantic, eager strokes, Steve’s tongue moves with precision — deliberate, decisive licks that have you arching off the couch within seconds. He teases you, circling your clit until you’re gasping, then he pulls back with a cruel smirk.

“Steve—” you whine, fingers scrambling at his hair. “Patience, sweetheart,” he muses — before sucking your clit between his lips, hard. Your cry echoes through the room, and Eddie’s hands clench into fists, his hips jerking helplessly as you overwhelm his senses without even touching him. Steve doesn’t let up; he works you with his mouth until your thighs tremble, until your moans grow longer and heavy, until you’re right there—, and he pulls away.

“No, no, baby, please—” you beg, but Steve just clicks his tongue, amused, sliding two fingers into you without warning. “Look at her, Munson,” he orders, curling his fingers just right, making you sob beneath him. “This is how you give her what she deserves.” His thrusts are ruthless, his palm grinding against your clit with every movement. You’re a writhing, whimpering mess, your nails digging into Steve’s shoulders as he fucks you on his fingers, his eyes locked onto Eddie’s the entire time.

“She’s close,”��Steve taunts — he doesn’t even need to look at you to know, too busy watching the way Eddie’s jaw clenches.  “You want to see what happens when she comes on my hand?” Eddie can’t even speak. He just nods, frantic. Steve smiles wickedly and makes do with the response. “Then watch closely.”

He crooks his fingers again, pressing deeper, and you don’t just shatter — you explode. Your back bows like you’re possessed, broken screams tearing from your throat as you squirt, and Eddie swears he’s seeing stars. Your hand finds Steve’s bicep, clinging desperately, like you’re afraid he’ll stop. Eddie can’t look away; he doesn’t dare blink — if he misses a single second of this, he’ll never forgive himself.

Steve works you through it, drawing out every last spasm until tears streak your face, until you’re oversensitive, trying to squirm away. Only then does he finally relent, licking his fingers with a satisfied hum before brushing featherlight kisses up to your neck. The moment you feel his proximity, you meet him in a kiss — not heated like before, but purposeful, delicate, like Steve is guiding you back to reality with it. He doesn’t rush you; he just lets your fingers weave through his hair until your breathing steadies. Then, he speaks again. “That”, he says, “is how it’s done.” He meets Eddie’s stunned gaze. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about getting your dick wet until she’s clenching around nothing.”

Eddie’s so hard it hurts. His cock throbs against his jeans, neglected and aching, precum soaking the fabric. He’s never been this turned on in his life—and the worst part? Steve knows it. The bastard smirks, dragging a thumb over your lower lip. You suck it in eagerly, tongue swirling, before he pulls away and stands. It’s a fucking performance. Steve undoes his belt like he’s savouring the way Eddie’s eyes cling to his hands, the leather slipping free with a final, damning shush. You whimper, still boneless from your orgasm, but your eyes flutter open when Steve’s palm slides up your thigh, squeezing. “Please, Steve?” you breathe, and his grin turns feral. “Not yet, love.” He glances at Eddie, whose throat bobs under the weight of his stare. “Munson hasn’t earned it yet.”

Eddie’s stomach drops. Fuck. He’s dripping in his pants, his hips twitching like a fucking teenager, and Steve’s going to make him wait?  But then— 

Steve grips Eddie’s chin, forcing his gaze up. “You want her?” he asks, voice rough. Eddie nods, greedy. “Then prove you can take care of her.” And just like that, Steve shoves him onto the couch with you. “Do it like I showed you.”

For a heartbeat, Eddie can only stare—at the way your breath hitches when he touches you, at the way your eyes lock on Steve, who’s sprawled in the armchair like it’s a fucking throne, lazily stroking his cock. Your lips part, and Eddie swears he sees your mouth water—fuck, it’s obscene. His hands tremble as he touches you—really touches you—this time. His mouth finds your thigh, kissing up the sensitive skin, trying to mimic the way Steve had worshipped you earlier. But when his tongue drags over you, your breath catches—wrong—and Steve’s low chuckle cuts through the room like a knife.

“Christ, Munson,” Steve sighs, his grip tightening around his cock. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Eddie grits his teeth. He is. He’s thinking about the way Steve had made you scream, the way your back arched off the couch like you were trying to fuse into him. He’s thinking about the fact that Steve’s watching, lazily stroking himself while Eddie fumbles like a virgin.

And the nail in the coffin? You’re watching Steve too. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes heavy with desire—but not for Eddie.

“Fuck,” Eddie rasps, pulling back. His voice is wrecked.“I can’t—I don’t—” Steve leans forward, fingertips ghosting over your throat as you keen toward him. “You can,” he growls. “Stop trying to perform. Just feel her.”

Eddie’s breath comes in sharp bursts. This time, when his mouth finds your cunt, he doesn’t think. He listens. To the way your breath catches when he licks a slow, experimental stripe. To the way your hips jerk when he sucks just there. And when your fingers fist in his hair—finally—it’s not to guide him, but to hold on.

“There,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with approval. “Now you’re getting it.” Eddie moans against you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat. Fuck. He’s dizzy with it—the taste of you, the sounds you’re making, the way Steve’s gaze burns into him like a brand.

But then Steve stands. Eddie barely has time to register the loss before Steve’s dragging him up by the collar, spinning him around to face you—really face you. Your lips are swollen, your chest heaving, your thighs slick with Steve’s work.

"Look at her," Steve growls, his voice a dark scrape against Eddie’s ear. "Don’t just glance—really look."

And Eddie looks. He sees the damp flush between your breasts, the way your hips lift like you’re already chasing it, the way your pupils blow wide when Steve’s thumb swipes over your bottom lip. "She’s not yours," Steve breathes, dragging his teeth over Eddie’s earlobe. "But fuck, look how bad she wants you to try."

Eddie’s pulse races. Then Steve steps back, gesturing like a king permitting a subject to kneel. "Go on. Make her forget my fucking name."

So he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the noise in his head, to sync himself with the thrum of your heartbeat beneath him, to dissolve into every breath you take. He wants to belong here, in this moment, where Steve’s approval hangs heavy in the air and your pleasure is the only thing that matters — success. A satisfied hum from Steve when Eddie finally finds the right rhythm, a broken moan from your lips. But your eyes — your eyes stay locked on Steve, even as Eddie’s mouth works you over.  It’s still him you want. Hunger battles with pride in Eddie’s chest. He hates how badly he craves this—how much he needs Steve’s approval—but god, he longs to pull those sounds from you himself, to unravel you with nothing but his touch. And so he moves like a man possessed, single-minded in his mission to play you like an instrument, to pluck every string until you snap.

Your taste is intoxicating, something he’s already addicted to, something he’s not sure he can live without anymore. Your eyes scrunch shut as pleasure blooms, so lost in it that you don’t even notice Steve speeding up his strokes, his grip tight on his cock. Eddie gets close—so close he can practically taste your climax—but you linger on the edge, just out of reach. He’s aware he’s missing something, some final piece to send you over, but he can’t find it. Then your eyes flicker open again, searching for Steve’s gaze like it’s the only thing that can save you. And Eddie knows—he’s pushed his luck too far. Steve’s patience snaps—not with his pleasure, but with Eddie’s failure to give you yours. Next thing he knows, he’s being dragged back, the warmth of you ripped away too soon. Steve looms over him, a predator in human skin, annoyance rolling off him in waves. “If you want to get a chance to fuck her,” Steve growls, voice dripping with challenge, “you’re going to have to do better than that.” 

Eddie’s brain becomes the mental equivalent of a dropped Wi-Fi signal—because did Steve just imply—?

Every touch, every taste Steve has allowed him, Eddie has devoured with insatiable hunger. But now it hits him—this is more than just a demonstration. Steve might actually let him fuck you. Or he would have. Now, Eddie isn’t sure he’ll ever get the opportunity again. A sharp, breathy cry from you yanks him from his thoughts. Steve has already turned you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees, one foot perched on the armrest behind you like a damn king claiming his treasure. Eddie is so close to your face now, your slick still glistening on his chin as you blink up at him, dazed. Steve teases your entrance with his cock, just enough to have you pushing back, begging for it. And for one glorious, heart-stopping moment—you look at Eddie.

Not at back at Steve.

At him.

Your gaze is pure, primal desperation—like he’s the one you need. Steve drives into you in one brutal thrust, and your eyes screw shut in ecstasy. You sob Steve’s name, but your eyes flicker back open as you you look at him.

“Baby, please—” And it dawns on him—you are begging Steve, but not for Steve. No, you’re begging for permission, your gaze locked onto Eddie like he’s the only thing anchoring you to earth. He doesn’t know what you’re asking for, but Christ, he already knows he wants it just as much. 

Steve, of course, does understand. He drags his cock into you agonisingly slow, pressing tender kisses along your spine even as his voice comes out harsh. “You think he deserves it, honey?” You whine, desperate, but Steve doesn’t need more than that. He leans over you, his thrusts deliberate, sinful. “How could I ever say no to you?”

And fuck, Eddie gets it now—gets why Steve turns possessive, gets why you love it. He’s watching the two of you move like a single entity, Steve’s hips rolling into you with a precision that rewrites Eddie’s entire understanding of sex. And the real tragedy? He’s pretty sure you’re only getting started. Your fingers fist in Eddie’s collar, yanking him down hard. His breath stutters as your lips take him in, hot and needy, and he doesn’t think—just reacts, his hands tangling in your hair as Steve’s thrusts rock you forward, forcing Eddie deeper into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations nearly undoing him right there, but then your hand tugs at his belt loop like it’s personally offended you, and Eddie’s thoughts fry into static. What do you want? He glances at Steve for answers, but the bastard just laughs, driving into you harder like he’s savouring Eddie’s confusion.

And God help him, Eddie looks. It’s downright pornographic. Steve’s cock glistens as he pulls out, your body clinging to him like it never wants to let go, and every time he sinks back in, you clench, a broken noise tearing from your throat.

As Eddie freezes, you take matters into your own hands, undoing Eddie’s belt with ruthless efficiency. The zipper’s barely down before his jeans pool at his knees. He looks at Steve again—helpless—but Steve just shakes his head, smirking. “Jesus, Munson. Keep up.”

Your fingers brush the straining outline of his cock through his boxers, and his hips jerk. Your mouth finds the spot beneath his ear, teeth scraping, and—fuck—it nearly sends him over the edge right then. You’re not gentle. You know exactly what you want. In seconds, his dick is in your hand, your grip perfect, and the first stroke has him grinding his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. He wants to keep his eyes open—to watch, to devour every detail of every second—but his body betrays him. A shudder wracks through him, his lashes fluttering helplessly before his head falls back, lost to the crushing wave of ecstasy."

“Fuck—!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the haze, dark with amusement. “That’s it, sweetheart. Show him how good you can be.” His hand tangles in your hair—not guiding, just holding—like he wants Eddie to see he’s the one in control. That every gasp you make, every shudder Eddie can’t suppress, is because Steve orchestrated it.

“Bet he’s never felt anything like you.” Eddie’s thighs tremble, his cock twitching against your tongue. He’s close, too close, and Steve knows it—fuck, he’s enjoying it. “Look at him,” Steve murmurs, dragging his cock out of you just to slam back in, punching a moan from your lips.  “Already shaking for you.  Bet he wishes it was him inside instead.” His thumb swipes over your clit, and you whimper, your rhythm on Eddie faltering. “But he’s got to earn that, doesn’t he?”

Earn it? Eddie’s vision blurs at the edges. He’d shamelessly beg if it meant— Then your tongue swirls over the head of his cock, and he chokes, almost falling forward into you.

“Steady,” Steve warns, though his voice is anything but calm. “You cum before she does, and I’ll make you watch while I fuck her twice as hard.”

Eddie’s groan is nothing short of pure agony. Steve fucks you more slowly then—cruel, like he’s savouring Eddie’s torment—dragging his cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your eyes water. But your dedication doesn’t waver; if anything, it burns hotter. “Shit—”  Eddie’s hips jerk involuntarily, but you swallow him deeper, humming around the salt-bitter heat of him. His fingers scramble at the cushions, knuckles white. “Jesus, sweetheart, where the hell did you learn—?”

Steve’s laugh is a dark, knowing thing against your neck. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading you wider as he presses inside, slow, letting you feel every fucking inch. “She’s full of surprises,” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear. “But you’re not going to last long enough to find out, are you?”

Eddie’s groan disintegrates, the way you swirl your tongue around him, the slick pressure of your throat—it’s nothing like the groupies who’d thrown themselves at Corroded Coffin. This is ruination. This is worship. Your mouth works him with practiced greed, and Eddie’s vision blurs.

“Fuck, I’m not—I can’t—” 

“Yes. You can.” Steve’s voice doesn’t leave room for argument—this isn’t a suggestion; it’s a command. His hand moves from your scalp to your nipple, pinching just shy of pain until you whine around Eddie’s cock. His other hand slips between your legs, circling your clit with filthy precision. “You going to come for us, sweetheart?” he rasps. You nod frantically, lips stretched lewdly around Eddie. “Good. Let him see.” You break with a cry, muffled around Eddie’s cock, and Steve growls as your body clenches around him. “That’s it,” he grits out, hips snapping harder, “that’s my girl—” Eddie’s spellbound.

 Steve fucks you through it, your tears smearing Eddie’s thighs. His breath comes in punched-out gasps, cock twitching against your tongue—

Steve loses control first. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he spills inside you, forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Eddie’s hips stutter when you whimper, oversensitive, as Steve grinds into you one last time—claiming you like he wants to brand the feeling into your skin. And then— “Fuck!”  Eddie’s back arches, his cock jerking as you pull off with a slick pop, begging Steve for mercy. He comes untouched, frustration and relief searing through him as he gasps your name like a prayer. Steve laughs, low and satisfied. Eddie’s too wrecked to care, chest heaving—until Steve’s next words send him tumbling straight back into want.

“Let me know if you’ve got any requests for the next lesson.”

[strkly]

something sweet

s.m: after the events of honey; bob spents a lot of time rethinking the past between you and him. he gets jealous. maybe the old feelings still laid below the surface.

robert ‘bob’ reynolds x sam wilson’s avengers!reader

w.c: 5.4k

c.w: not proofread, this also took me forever to write so this might have some inconsistencies between honey but dont think abt it too much. angst, hurt/comfort unhealthy relationship dynamics, mentions of drug usage, exes (with still something there), bob pov, over protective reader, bob and you are really bad at communicating, minor sambucky mention? can be taken as platonic tho, bff joaquin, im too tired to proofread this so really ignore all spelling errors ill go back and fix it soon. asumming its 2027 and bob is 30.

sorry this took me forever ! promise the last part wont take me as long as this one did (hopefully)

honey -> homesick

you dont end up going out to eat together much to your dismay and bob’s disappointment. sam must have gotten word you were off mission and was bothering you to report back to him. it got to the point you could no longer ignore and decided it would be better to head back.

you try to ignore the pout on bobs face as you grip his forearm. “dont worry, ill come back and we’ll get to hang out then okay?” he looks down at his feet before nodding; ignoring the minor ache in his chest at the idea of watching you walk away.

“just give me your phone number and ill call you.” he tilts his head as he looks back up at you, “my,,, phone number?” your face twists into annoyance as it dawns on you val hadn’t given him a phone. theres so many things you want to say, but instead you murmur to yourself, “that fucking bitch.” before you turn away pulling out your phone as you wave your hand behind you, “dont worry about it, ill see you guys!”

as you enter the elevator everyone sends you off with a small wave, right before you raise your phone to your ear you point your finger at them, “dont listen to anything val says seriously do not listen.” the doors close before anyone gets to say anything in return.

the group is dead silent simply staring at the elevator door. “what the hell was that?” no one says anything for a few moments before they all shrug and go all spread out to do god knows what in the tower. bob stays awkwardly staring at the elevator door like it was about to open back up and you would walk back in.

he has always tried so hard not to think about the past but now he finds himself still reminiscing in the memories he finds in his mind. “you know she was talking to you right?” bob is shaken out of his trance by the hand placed on his shoulder, turning quickly to see yelena smiling at him. “h-huh?” she just shakes her head and pats his shoulder, “dont worry we’ll protect you.” “from who?”

she says nothing else and hes far too tired to argue simply walking back up to his room and falling asleep, it was mid afternoon but he ends up sleeping into the next day. yelena realizes the the mental exhaustion must have hit him hard and assures the team he’ll be fine and she’ll talk to him once hes up.

he finally comes back down at lunch time. he weakly smiles at his teammates who look at him with concern as he debates on what to eat.

the three sitting on the couch huddle together as the look at him, “should we ask him about you know who?” “yelena told us not to.” “who’s yelena our mother? lets ask.” bucky walks past the group of them and rolls his eyes, “you know he can hear you right?”

the three of them turn back to bob who had a deathly grip on the open fridge door as he stared at it like it held all the answers. he had dreamed about you. he couldn’t tell if it was a dream or a memory of something that actually happened.

saratosa spring’s 2015

you had your hand tightly wrapped around his, walking in front of him as you dragged him along with you. a big smile on your face as you hummed along to some tune in your head. he was quiet, he always was after coming down from a high but you know he’ll perk up as soon as you get to the lake. you had just finished finals and it was way too damn hot to stay in your apartment with the shitty ac you decide to take a trip with him to the lake an hour out from you.

he actually liked long car rides, staring out the window at the passing landscapes, the wind blowing through his grown out hair while listening to the static radio you had in your beat down car brought him a sense of peace. he hadn’t expected to go on one today, he must have forgotten about it since it seemed like you mentioned it before or maybe you had told him during the haze and he didn’t realize you were even speaking to him. its not like he ever had anything to do so when you came home with some groceries and pulled out the cooler he got ready to go.

the lake is gorgeous. its hidden behind the trees but before you can see it you can hear the wild rushing of water flowing from the waterfall. when it finally comes into view it feels like youve been transported to another planet. he hears you squeal as you rush to set up your stuff, “its been so long since ive been here, its still so pretty.” he hums back at you as he sets up the towels not able to form a response, still not 100% back to himself but he chugs down two ice cold water bottles to shock himself back to reality.

he lifts off his shirt as you strip down to your swimsuit, turning to him the smile you had your face had him staring at you in wonder, you were the most wonderful thing in the world. not even the highs he reached could be a great as you. you hold out your hand to him and he finds himself moving to grab yours before he even knows what hes doing. “lets jump!”

after your conversation he did a lot of thinking when he woke up. it never really occurred to him your dynamic had so much of an effect on you. you did basically everything for him, hell you even taught him how to swim, it never occurred to him you had just gotten him way too comfortable. never pushing him to do more simply content with the routine and life you guys had. he had never really thought about it like that. maybe you were right. but he didn’t want you to be right, he was the problem wasnt he?

yelena had come to his room early in the morning, he was up trying to take his mind off the thoughts he was having by reading a book. “youve been staring at that page for ten minutes.” he looks up alarmed, not even knowing she had entered his room. “oh, um you know,, really interesting stuff.” she walks over to him and gently sits on the bed in front of him before grabbing the book and flipping it around, “its upside down.”

“ah. i knew that…”

when she asked him if he needed anything he’s grown to feel so comfortable around her he confides in her what had happened yesterday and some history between the two of you, leaving out the precious memories he has.

shes quiet for awhile. thinking about how to word a good response before she sighs, placing a hand on his. “i think shes right.” thats not what he wanted to hear. “why.” it wasn’t a question, more so his disbelief spilling out of his mouth but she takes it like a question anyway. “because if what you say is true she would have been successful no matter what, she is a good woman. she would have been happy in life because she was with you. but you would have never been happy because you were with her.”

it bothered him. and rethinking all of his time with you bothered him so much because in all of his memories you are so so happy. and he was, him. sure he was as happy as he could get but he was never truly happy with life and he just thought he never would be.

“the food in the fridge is gonna get hot at this rate.” he snaps back into reality as bucky slips behind him not even sparing him a glance as he fixed himself a drink. without thinking he slams the fridge door shut so strongly it makes a strange sound and everyones heads turn towards him. he just stares at it awkwardly trying to see if it was broken but it looked alright so he left it alone, sparing everyone a quick sorry as he glanced around the room.

the elevator door dings and suddenly all attention is off of bob and towards the door. there was no way it was you. it wasn’t. and he tries not to ket his disappointment show on his face. mel smiles at the group as he holds up the large bag she had in her hand, “i brought lunch.”

everyone cheered before gathering around the large brown bags rummaging around in them for their food. bob stands back, letting everyone else take their pick before he even thinks about heading over towards it. “oh right bob,” he looks over to mel who shuffles through her bag before holding out a phone to him. “courtesy of valentina”

bucky scoffs and laughs as bob hestitantly takes the phone from mel and smiles at her. “she yell at her?” mel hesitates to answer as bob stares at the phone, “off the record,, yes yes she did and she wouldn’t let anyone touch the phone, i was given it just now with someone breathing down my neck.”

you must have thought val or any of her minions would have bugged it. bucky realizes you were likely right and they would have, hes ever shocked you let mel hold it at all it must have been because he talked to you about how mel was a good one.

they continue to talk around him but he tunes them out. he cant even remember the last time he had a phone that wasnt a flip phone, probably when he was with you and you had bought it for him but he left it all those years ago. it doesn’t have a password and had no personality clearly new, but the phone did have one contact in it.

yours.

it was just your name, no nickname no emoji just your name. but with your contact page there was a little note you had left, “text me whenever you want! :)”

he doesn’t. he wants to. yet he keeps on staring at your contact page while he sits in bed. what would he even say? he cant just say hi thats too lame, but if he says anything else would he be coming off too strong?

lost in his own frustration he grips his phone awkwardly not even realizing his fingers slipped over the video call button and suddenly he was calling you. he yelped, his fingers trembling as he tried to end the call but the dark screen and ringing was soon changed into the site of your smiling face and the sound of your voice, “hi! give me one sec okay?”

he involuntarily begins to smile at the sound of your voice and he watches as your face disappears from view but he can still hear you talk to someone off screen. “im leaving joaquin,”

he can hear the sound of you gathering up your stuff. wait whos joaquin?

“who are you taking to? your boyfriend? let me see!”

“goodbye! leaving now!”

the sound of your rushing footsteps fills the air he can hear some voices call after you but you continue to briskly make your way out of the area you were before bring the phone back up and smiling at him.

“hi, sorry about that. its so good to hear from you are you alright?”

he pushes his questions down his throat as he smiles, nodding before he quickly rushes to actually speak, “yes hi sorry i didn’t mean to call you you seem busy…”

“no no no i just left work now i was meaning to leave anyway but i kept on getting distracted.”

distracted talking to that guy, the darker part of his mind thinks. he doesn’t have a right to think like that. the two of you haven’t been together in almost over a decade.

“im sorry…”

still he feels the need to apologize despite your words. he watches the way the afternoon light hits your face, the soft tone of your voice and he melts. “you know, you can call or text me whenever you want honey, ill always answer.”

2017

he was home alone. you were at work and he had gotten fired from the liquor store you managed to get him a job for and he felt terrible.

“dont worry baby, we’ll figure it out we always do.”

you’ll figure it out. thats what you had meant, he couldn’t really do anything. the tv was on yet the noise from it flowed from one ear to the other as he tried to shake the thoughts from his head.

he couldn’t do anything right. why did he even bother? he would be better off dead. his hands shook as he gripped his head tight. he couldn’t hear his fathers voice, angry like it always was he could hear the disappointment from his mother.

he couldn’t breathe.

he gripped his phone and found your contact and called it out of instinct. the ringing of it falling on deaf ears as the only sounds he could hear was his own pounding heartbeat.

it hadn’t even occurred to him you were still at work till you answered with a frazzled look on your face glancing around, he could recognize the ceiling and the walls of your work place, “hey honey did you need something?” he sees your face fall as you recognize the look on his face. “honey are you okay?”

he alway just messes everything up.

“im sorry.”

he hangs up. his phone flies from his hand and hits the wall. it probably breaks but he doesn’t care. he puts his head in his hands as he starts to hyperventilate.

of course you wouldn’t be free to talk to him you actually had things to do. you were actually important. unlike him. who has no place in this world, a worthless piece of space who means nothing.

he doesn’t know how long hes sitting there spiraling, but its not long enough feels cold hands touch his face and your sweet sonnet voice.

“honey, hey please look at me.”

you were looking at him with that sad face you get whenever someone yelled at him or whenever he was in one of his bad moods like he was right now.

he hated that look on your face.

“w-what are you doing here?”

“i was worried about you, are you okay?”

thats how it always was. whenever he was in any sort of peril you rushed to save him. you were like a superhero. it didn’t matter you had to cut your shift early and beg your coworker to cover the rest of the day for you. it didn’t matter rent was coming up and you would probably need to work a double or two to cover for today.

you just came to him. no matter what. and when he finally manages to force a smile you meet him with a gentle look on your face and a bag of hot takeout on the coffee table he felt like everything was alright just for awhile.

“you know, you can call or text me whenever you want honey, ill always answer.”

it becomes a regular thing. the two of you calling and texting each other everyday. the times zones are a little finicky so he ends up talking to you late into the night without a care in the world.

he avoids asking when you’re coming back to visit despite how eager he is. he knows you’re busy but he also knows that the two of you are dancing around the unavoidable.

there were numerous articles day to day about who the real avengers were and every shot with sam or every press he did you stood by his side and supported his cause. the two of you never talked about. when he would ask you what you did today when you had a press conference talking about how sam had the true right to have the real avengers you would say you just did this and that nothing special. you would have to talk about it eventually, but it was definitely not going to be anytime soon.

something else began to bother him during this time. that guy, joaquin he found out was his name. bucky had mentioned a thing or two about him. good guy, captain in the air force, smart, funny. he was gonna be sick.

you would always be standing next to him during conferences, the two or you could be seen chatting and laughing together in paparazzi photos. he has no right to be upset, you two arent together and haven’t been for awhile he cant be upset he shouldn’t be.

it had been a month now, but he hadn’t heard from you for two days now. it was odd. you had both talked everyday no matter how busy you were and you had suddenly gone radio silent. he tried not to let it bother him, you didnt have to talk to him everyday. he did chores he tried to train but it just continued to eat at the back of his head.

yet he finally heard from you once again. it was early afternoon. he was sitting on the couch drinking a decaf frappuccino yelena had gotten when she went go get the team coffee when the elevator door suddenly opened and the sound of people bickering filled the air.

everyone stood up at the sight of you, dragging sam by the ear towards the center of the room while joaquin trailed a little behind looking around the room with wonder.

you were wearing a business suit. he had seen you in a few of them but this one was clearly tailored like he’d seen during your press conferences. you’re had had been done the way you liked it still the same all those years ago, somethings never changed.

his fist clenched in his lap.

“you two are going to talk about it.”

“i dont wanna talk to him.”

“i dont give a shit.”

bucky looked the most alarmed out of the group and took a couple steps towards them. when sam noticed bucky he straighted up and turned his head away. “stop acting like a child wilson.”

only to make it worse bucky begins to match his posture and huffs. “you guys stop acting like babies before i get pissed off.”

“you’re already pissed off.”

“and you’re making it worse barnes.”

after a couple moments of silence you realize neither of them are going to crack you roll your eyes before grabbing both of them and dragging them down to an empty room. “joaquin play nice with them while were gone!” you ignore the sound of bucky and sam trying to argue with you and wiggle out of your death grip as you drag them out the room out of ear shot from everyone else who just stares at the three of you.

“remind me never to mess with her.” walker sits down next to ava and shakes his head, “trust me you really dont want to.” he shakes as a chill overcomes his body taking a long sip from his cup.

joaquin just sort of stares around the room in wonder before turning to the group trying to figure the joyful look on his face with something akin to serious but its very obvious its not genuine.

“serious doesn’t look good on you torres”

“shut up walker.”

bob has to put down his cup as his grip on it grows too tight he fears itll explode. its odd seeing the guy he’s seen only in photos and videos in person, he tries not to stare but he finds his jaw clenching before he even realizes it. yelena notices straight away, looking at him knowingly before turning back to joaquin with a grin.

“so like she your girlfriend?” yelenas finger points towards the way you had just dragged them off. walker spits out some of his drink and covers his mouth in a cough as joaquin tilts his head in confusion.

one of bobs hands reaches over and grips yelena’s jacket tugging it to try and get her to stop. he didn’t want to know, his chest hurts. but yelena ignores his movements and just grins at joaquin.

“who?” “you know, y/n.”

he laughs.

why the hell is he laughing?

his hands fly and out in from of him as he shakes his head, the humor still in his tone as he speaks. “nah nah, i like her shes cool but dating? no definitely not shes a good friend.” “ahh i get it.”

the relief he feels flowing through his body is the closest thing he’s felt to being high since he’s been sober. he doesn’t even fight off the sigh that leaves his body ignoring yelenas knowing look at him.

he notices the way joaquin is staring at him. its a familiar look to the ones he’s seen from the people from his past. its one thats trying to read him, trying to figure him out. he doesnt like it. when he shifts comfortably in his seat joaquin apologizes. “sorry man its just, have i seen you before?”

thats not what he was expecting to hear. even the other guys in the room seem confused by joaquins words. “umm no?” “the news maybe.” ava hits walker on the shoulder but he just turns to her confused, “what?”

joaquin just continues to stare for a minute or two, his hand coming to grab his chin as his eyes squint in concentration. suddenly his eyes light up and he claps his hands together, “oh i know, you’re the one whos her friend right?,” joaquin doesnt even wait for bob to nod his head before continuing. “shes got a picture of you on her desk. damn im good.”

bobs face contorts into disbelief as joaquin looks pleased with himself. “what picture?”

“looks like it was her graduation, shes wearing a cap and gown.”

oh right, he knows what picture joaquin’s talking about.

it was right after the lake trip you had taken him on. your high school graduation, you had originally told him he didnt need to go. you still went to the same school he had dropped out of, not wanting to overwhelm him but he still wanted to go. it was your big day, graduating top of your class you had worked so hard he pushed down all his bad thoughts and managed to show up for you. he hid his face, too embarrassed to be seen by his former teachers and classmates but he still stood up and cheered when your name had been called. his cheeks hurt from smiling while you were giving your speech.

the first thing you did after it was all done was run over to him with a big smile on your face. he wrapped you in his arms and spun you around. “im so proud of you baby.” the sound of your laugher fills his ears as you snuggle your head in the crook of his neck. “im so happy you’re here.” you quickly pulled out your digital camera from your pocket and snapped a picture of the two of you wrapped in each others arms and smiling at the camera.

you should have been off to some ivy league college after that. getting some fancy degree getting a high paying job living in a nice house. yet you werent, everyone was more than confused when you said you were staying local, going to the near by community college and getting a regular business degree. you were meant to be doing so much more thats what everyone had said, but you couldnt leave bob. sure he would follow you anywhere you went but the idea of him being too overwhelmed by a new city put you off of moving all together.

he didnt get to go to your college graduation he had already left you at that point. he wonders what you had looked like, what you wore. he couldnt remember what the school colors were. did anyone even show up for you? you did have many friends outside of casual acquaintances at school and bob was even the only one at your high school graduation. were you all alone that day? he swallows down an ache in his chest at the idea of you standing all alone while everyone around you celebrates with their loved ones.

“right yeah, probably me. i-i mean, i was there so..”

he has no clue what to say. he tells himself its probably the only picture you have of your graduation of course you would frame it and keep it, it has nothing to do with him its just a coincidence he’s in the photo. he’s not special.

thankfully like the angel you are you finally come back into the room sam and bucky on your tail. it seems like the tense has dissolved off of the three of you. “everything good?”

you walk over and pat joaquin on the shoulder and nod. bobs head twitches. “yep, the married couple made up just fine.”

“dont call us that.”

bucky and sam look over and each other and smile. sam places his hand on buckys shoulder and shakes it gently.

“we’ll have to have a long talk with valentina but yeah, i think we’ll be alright.”

a gentle look of affection graces buckys face in a way none of the thunderbolts have ever seen. its strange but no one has the heart to say anything.

bob cant take his eyes off you. the soft smile on your face as you stare at the two guys. when your eyes drift over to him his body perks up and he straightens in his seat like a dog. he must be imagining the way the smile on your face grows at the sight of him.

“who wants to go to lunch? my treat.”

while everyone perks up and gets ready to go you walk over to bob. yelena gets up, shooting bob a knowing look before rushing over to ava. bob stands to greet you. tugging on the ends of his sleeves he grins, “hi.”

“bob, im so sorry. my phone got broken on this mission and i couldn’t reach you.” you grip his forearm and smile at him apologetically. he feels so relieved to see you to hear your voice he laughs. his voice full of joy as he leans closer to you. “im happy to see you.”

you wiggle a bit closer to him and he fights the urge to lay his forehead on yours. the grip you have on his forearm growing ever so tighter. “im happy too.”

“i still owe you a lunch, come on lets go.”

you grip his hand, he doesn’t let you go until you get to the restaurant, if anyone notices they dont say anything.

you had rented out the private room at this brunch spot. on the way there you told him how you always came here whenever you were in the city and were excited for him to try it.

he sat next to you, joaquin sat in front of you much to bobs dismay. sam to his right bucky next to him, everyone else gathered in the remaining seats. different people at the table begin to form their own conversations while looking over the menu.

joaquin was smirking at you as he glances between you and bob who was focused on looking over the pancake options. he only looked up once you kicked joaquin in the shin, giving you a confused look but you just smile and go back to looking at the menu not before glaring at joaquin once more.

“dont even start.”

“i didnt even say anything.”

bobs jaw clenches as joaquin grins at you while you roll your eyes. he places his hand on your thigh without thinking and you turn to look at him. he stares down at the menu with a glare biting his tongue. he doesnt have any right to feel the way he does. he knows the two of you are not even dating but the pit in his stomach doesn’t go away no matter how much he wants it to.

his whole body tightens as he feels your hand grab his. he expects you to rip the hand off and give him a nasty look. yet you simply just flip his hand around and lace your fingers with his. his whole body softens, once his jaw relaxes he notices how much it aches from the tension he had been putting on it. he looks over and you and you caught his eye, giving him a sneaky grin before reading the menu.

orders are taken, its a messy than expected. alexei changes his mind on his order about five times before he settles on something, bob messes up saying what he wants twice but you step in and help him, joaquin had been so distracted by teasing you he had forgotten to pick something so he randomly chose something off the first page.

“so how long are you all in new york?”

“just for the weekend, we gotta be back in dc by monday.”

joaquin looks at you as he taps you on the arm. “but you’re not heading back with us right?”

you shake your head, taking a long drink out of your glass. “i have the week off.”

“you’re staying in new york?”

he’s hopeful. more hopeful than he wants to admit but you shake your head leaving him heartbroken. “im going out of state.”

“arent you headed back to florida?”

joaquin hisses as you slam your foot onto his. “shut up!”

“florida? for what?”

you lean your head back and sigh, clear irritation riddled on your face as you use your free hand to scratch your jaw. “nothing.”

“you have an apartment down there-“

he groans again as you stomp his other foot, glaring at him. “joaquin if you dont shut your mouth.”

“where?”

bobs not asking you. he’s asking joaquin, who gives him a hesitant look, looking back between the two of you.

“miami.”

bob doesn’t believe you. he turns his head to you. he knows that look on your face, when he would ask you something and you didn’t wanna answer him. “where is it.”

you stare at him, your eyelids rapidly blink as you click your tongue. you stay silent for a few moments before you sigh dejectedly. “i still have the apartment in saratosa.”

you look away, thankfully the food comes out and the two of you are able to get away without saying anything for a few minutes as the waiters come down to place all the food infront of you all.

he doesn’t know what to think. he stares down at his pancakes deep in thought. why would you keep it? from what he’s found out its been years since you’ve lived in flordia. maybe you use it like a storage house? yeah thats gotta be it. theres no way you would keep it cause you actually wanted it… right?

joaquin had moved on to chatting with sam and bucky leaving you and bob to be the only people not engaged in some conversation at the table. he wants to say something to you, anything at all but nothing comes out.

“i get homesick. sorry you must think its really weird, i mean, it was your home too so…”

you mumble it just loud enough for only him to hear. he doesn’t know what to think. he has so many questions, so many thoughts. he wants to talk with you about everything, but what would he even say when he has no clue himself what he’s even thinking?

your palm feels sweaty, probably because he runs so hot but you didn’t dare to pull your hand off of his. he squeezed your hand tightly and let out a shaky breath.

“can i come with you?”

[luvergirl-535]

something like love

part - 1

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.1k

c/w - language

a/n - hi!! i am so so excited to be posting my first ever pazzi fic (and also my first post on tumblr!) she’s a cute little fake-dating rom-com for yall, and i hope you enjoy reading it as much i enjoyed writing it! updates will probably be inconsistent but im gonna do my best lol. lmk what yall think!! (edit: side note, this is obviously all fiction! i’m sure paige’s mom and step-dad are perfectly good people irl, lol)

“Will you go out with me?”

When Paige asks this question during their weekly lunch date, Azzi is so taken aback that she almost chokes on her Chipotle.

“Shit, you good?” Paige asks, concerned, handing Azzi a napkin to cough into.

Azzi waves her off, swallows, and croaks, “What?”

“Hm?” Paige is staring at her nonchalantly, like she didn’t just ask what Azzi heard her ask. “Oh, that. Yeah, will you?”

“I don’t—“ Azzi shakes her head. Is she being messed with? It feels a lot like she’s being messed with. “Paige, you’re my best friend.”

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t know you…had, like, feelings for me.”

“Huh? No!” Wide-eyed, Paige shakes her head violently. “No, ‘course I don’t.”

Azzi’s stomach clenches—not in the good way it sometimes does around Paige—and she thinks Paige could’ve bothered to sound less disgusted by the notion of her having feelings for Azzi. “Funny, P.”

“I’m for real.”

Azzi frowns. “Actually?” Paige nods and Azzi wrinkles her brow, confused. “So you wanna go out with me but you don’t feel…like that about me.”

“Were you even listening earlier?” Paige playfully rolls her eyes, sitting all casually in her seat with her legs spread like she has the biggest dick on campus. Azzi usually loves it when she sits like that, but now she’s too annoyed and confused to appreciate it. “I was talking about my mom.”

“Oh.” To be fair, Azzi stopped listening a while ago, when Paige was still talking about the hot electrician that fixed her leaky sink the other day. She wasn’t aware the conversation had taken a more serious tone. “Sorry, I spaced. What were you saying?”

“I was saying she and her fuckass husband invited me home for a few weeks this summer…” Paige waits, but it doesn’t ring any bells, so she sighs and continues. “They told me to bring Josh.”

Azzi scrunches her nose. “Eww, why?”

“Because…I haven’t really, like, you know…” Paige tips her head to the side, “told them we ended things.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs.

“I know! I know. Just, I dunno.” Paige sighs, and Azzi knows she’s trying to act chill about it even though she likely laid awake last night thinking about it. “It’s hard, y’know? They’re not like my dad’s side, they’re not like your parents. You know what they did after I told them…” Paige glances surreptitiously around the restaurant, even though they’re far away from campus and not very likely to be recognized, “everything. And if I told them about Josh and they suspected something, I don’t think they’d let me see Ryan and Lauren again.” Her eyes are wide, now, and she’s doing that thing she does when she gets mad, pinching her bottom lip between her fingers.

Paige and Josh were never actually a thing, by the way. Paige doesn’t swing that way and she’s known it for a long time. But she came out to her mom over the new year, and that phone call had ended in a seething Paige at Azzi’s door, yelling and cursing while Azzi listened, and a broken one in her bed that night, crying herself to sleep while Azzi stroked her hair.

So a couple months later Paige recruited their closeted gay friend, Josh. And they became each other’s beards, pleasing her mom enough that she could stay in contact with her younger siblings. That is, until Josh found a nice boyfriend and Paige was left hanging.

Azzi tries to come up with something to say, something comforting, but she’s not sure there is anything to say.

“And I hate them for that,” Paige goes on. “But as long as Ryan and Lauren are still kids, my parents can still keep them from me. And it sucks they’re holding that over my head but there’s not a lot I can do about it.”

Azzi offers a sad little smile, letting her silence urge Paige to go on, even though she can tell it’s hard for her.

“So, anyway,” Paige sighs, sitting back in her seat, “when Josh ended it, I didn’t wanna tell them, because I knew the calls would stop coming, the support. And so whenever they asked about him, I’d be all, oh, yeah, he’s doing great, just busy. Just bullshitting my way through it.”

“And you’ve been doing this for the past two months?”

“Umm…” Paige looks down at her fingers, counting on them, then furrows her eyebrows. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Okay…” Azzi leans forward on her elbows. “So how does your weird question come into all this?”

“Don’t say no right away,” Paige says, giving her this knowing look she hates.

Azzi narrows her eyes at her. “We’ll see.”

Paige reaches over to whack her and misses. “Lemme explain, damn. So, when they called me last night and invited me to come home with Josh, I was like, oh, shit. And I thought of ways I could handle it.”

“Uh-huh…” Azzi watches with wary eyes as Paige bends to rummage through her book bag. “Paige, tell me you’re not—”

“Let me introduce you to…” Paige keys up her laptop and then turns the screen toward Azzi with a wide smile, “Boom!”

“Oh my fucking god.” Azzi buries her head in her hands.

“No, bro, listen! It’s lowkey impressive!” Paige taps the screen. “It’s titled Game Plan for my Summer Visit to my Fuckass Parents, featuring Azzi Fudd. By Paige Bueckers.”

“Good Lord,” Azzi says, taking a peek at the PowerPoint in front of her. When has Paige ever gone to such lengths as to create a PowerPoint before? This must really be serious to her.

“So, listen carefully.” Paige taps the screen again; it changes from the title slide to one labeled ‘First (and worst) Option’. “I put the worst part because it’s true, but it’s also a lil rhyming moment.”

“Right, okay. Just keep going, please.”

“So, this is the first option that came to mind,” Paige starts, glancing down at the screen. “This is the option where I ghost my parents and refuse to come see them at all.” She taps the screen to a pros and cons slide. “As you can see, I mostly only came up with cons.”

“Yeah, because it’s a terrible idea.”

“I know. So then we have option two.” The next slide is labeled ‘Option Two (mid)’. “I put the mid part because—“

“I get it.”

Paige shoots her a look. Azzi playfully kicks her under the table. “Go on.”

“Okay.” Paige nudges Azzi’s foot with her own, but her attention is back to the laptop. “This is the scenario where I let my parents think that Josh and I are still together by telling them that I can come to Montana, but that Josh can’t. It’d be pretty easy, and as you can see here…” she clicks the screen, “there’s an even ratio of pros to cons.”

Azzi nods sagely. Sometimes, her best friend takes a while to get to the point, and Azzi learned a long time ago that waiting it out is the best way to go.

“But there is this one big con: I can’t keep lying to my parents forever. So this option is pretty much a way to procrastinate on telling them the truth. Which takes us to the last option.”

This slide is titled ‘Third Option (THE BEST)’ along with a few muscle emojis tacked to the end. A headache forms at the base of Azzi’s skull.

“This is where my awesome idea comes in.” Paige gives her a very self-satisfied smile. “Instead of Josh, I take you with me to Montana and we pretend you’re my girlfriend for two weeks. Literally a genius idea.” She leans back in her seat, nodding assuredly to herself, and Azzi can’t help but smile because she really loves this girl. Despite how bat-shit crazy she is.

“P, I don’t—“

“Hear me out.” Paige clicks to the final slide. This pros and cons list is mostly pros, and Azzi spots many love-emojis sprinkled throughout. “We pretend we’ve been dating since beginning of March. They know you’re my best friend; we’ll pretend that after Josh broke up with me, you and I bonded and fell in love or some shit. My parents won’t be happy, but I’ll already be there with you so they won’t kick me out or nothing.” Paige frowns. “Probably.”

Ok, so, Azzi absolutely hates to admit it, but this does actually make some sense. Not that she’ll ever say such a thing out loud.

“And then they’ll realize we’re totally in love and I’m happy and even if they hate gay shit they just want me to be happy, because I’m their kid.” Paige says this last part less like a fact and more like something she’s trying to convince herself of. Azzi can’t help but feel bad for her.

“Okay,” Azzi says slowly, watching Paige tuck away her laptop. “That’s your plan.”

“Yep.”

“I’m seeing a few plot holes.”

Paige waves her off. “It’ll work. No plan of mine is gonna fail, trust.”

“And why should I help you?”

Paige gives her an easy smile, and Azzi sort of hates how confident she is. “Because I’m your best friend in the whole world and you love me.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow.

“C’mon, Az. What is there to lose?”

Azzi sighs and almost says something stupid like I’m in, but this isn’t just one of those things that she can help Paige with without thinking twice. It’ll be two weeks of torture, pretending to date the girl she’s secretly in love with while being surrounded by her homophobic family, and then having to come home at the end of the two weeks and pretend she never got to experience a glimpse of what it’s like to be with Paige in the way she’s always wanted.

It sounds like hell.

Azzi sighs again, ready to say no, but when she looks up Paige is staring at her with something more vulnerable than before, open in the way she bites her lip, her arm reaching across the table like she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve and waiting for Azzi to take it.

Azzi takes her hand, instinctually, and says, “Okay.”

She is so fucking gone for this girl.

————————————-

They don’t talk about it for two days after that. It’s not that they don’t get the chance, or that they don’t see each other—they go to the gym together both days—it’s just that neither of them seems to have the guts to bring it up. And why should they? It wasn’t too scary while they were having the original conversation—nothing too big or threatening or, god forbid, real—but as soon as Azzi stepped into her dorm after that lunch, she realized just how much she fucked up by saying yes to Paige’s crazy idea.

It would be an understatement to say that talking about it is the last thing Azzi wants to do at this point.

Paige, however, seems to have other plans, as she usually does. When she storms into the living room—where almost every single member of the UConn women’s basketball team is doing homework—she makes a beeline for the seat beside Azzi on the couch and whispers, “Hey.”

Nika leans up from the floor to poke Paige with her pencil. “No chit-chat, we’re working.”

Paige glares. “What, I can’t talk to my best friend?”

“Shh,” hisses Aaliyah, barely pulling her eyes from her laptop.

Paige flips her off even though Aaliyah is too immersed to notice, and then she turns her attention back to Azzi, bumping their knees together. “Can we talk later?”

Azzi pretends to be focused on studying. “Mm. About?”

“About…” Paige glances around furtively, “y’know.”

Yes, Azzi does in fact know, but she really wishes she didn’t. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Paige says sarcastically. “Specifics? Rules? Details? I prepared a whole new PowerPoint.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing the past couple of days.”

“Yeah, turns out I love PowerPoint.”

Azzi finally cautions a glance up, and Paige is looking at her, completely serious. The eye contact seriously messes with her ability to make sound decisions.

“Okay,” Azzi relents. “As long as you’re quiet for the next forty minutes, we can talk.”

Paige, dutifully, doesn’t say a word for the rest of Azzi’s worktime, letting everyone study in peace. And that’s how Azzi ends up in Paige’s bedroom an hour later, perched on the edge of her bed while Paige struggles with her laptop.

“Okay, fuck this,” Paige says after extensive fiddling. “My stupid fucking PowerPoint isn’t loading. What the hell.”

Every bone in Azzi’s body wants to take this as a sign from God, the fact that this PowerPoint isn’t working, that they’re not supposed to do this. She wants to walk out of the room—and this agreement—for good. But Paige is her best friend and Azzi had always been too loyal for her own good, so she sighs and says, “How about we just talk about it? Y’know, like normal people.”

Paige frowns but closes her laptop regardless. “Okay. So.”

“So…”

“First off,” Paige says when Azzi doesn’t continue, “I just felt like I should probably say sorry for dragging you into this.” Paige scratches the back of her neck, always a little awkward when it comes to apologies. “I know it’s a lot to ask for.”

Azzi blinks, startled. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, well…” should she back out? If she were going to, now’s her chance.

Azzi looks down at a scab on her knee. “I mean, that’s okay.”

Paige shifts in her seat, the stool creaking underneath her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve had to help with one of your ridiculous plans.” Azzi goes for lighthearted but knows it falls flat under the weight of what she’s going to have to do.

“Okay.” When Azzi looks up, Paige is staring at her suspiciously. She wonders just how bad of an actress she must be for Paige, the same Paige who hasn’t yet detected Azzi’s somewhat obvious, six-years-long crush on her, to see right through her. But then she just shrugs and continues, aloof like she always is. “So then I wanted to ask you about what you think we should do about…all this.”

“…Okay?”

“I was thinking we should get into the, like. The specifics.”

Azzi rolls her eyes. “Paige, just tell me.”

Paige gnaws at her lip until it turns white and Azzi starts to worry it might bleed, but then she says, “We need a sex timeline.”

If Azzi were drinking water, she would have surely spit it out.

“A what?” she asks, sort of incredulous. Paige has said a lot of crazy things before but nothing quite like that.

“Okay, my bad, weird way to put it.” Paige grins as if all of this is funny to her. “What I mean is we need a story to tell my family, our friends. Like, why did we start dating? When was our first kiss? What’s our song? Have we, you know…gone to the penthouse and freaked it?”

Azzi throws herself back onto the bed. Paige’s bed. Which she is just now realizing is probably going to be the bed that many of these fictional events are going to take place in. “Paige.”

Paige is giggling now, which is endearing because Paige doesn’t giggle often. If only it weren’t at Azzi’s expense. “We need to figure it out, for real! People are going to ask questions.”

“People are not going to ask those kinds of questions.”

“Um, excuse me.” Paige stands and walks over until she’s at the bed, pulling Azzi’s legs off the edge playfully. “Have you met our friends? KK’s not shy with that shit.”

Azzi’s ankles instinctively go around the back of Paige’s thighs, but she’s in a certain mindset due to their current conversation and the casual gesture suddenly seems much less innocent than usual. She unwraps them, pulling her legs from Paige’s grasp as discreetly as possible. “So we’re planning on telling them we’re dating, too?”

Paige shrugs. “Yeah. You weren’t?”

“I don’t…” Azzi straightens up as Paige sits beside her, their hips touching. “We spend every day with them, P. Don’t you think it’ll be hard to keep up the act that much?”

“Yeah, probably. But that’s also why I wanna do it.” As usual, Paige sounds completely sure of herself. “We only have a couple weeks until Montana and I wanna make sure we get enough practice acting like a couple.”

Azzi still feels uneasy about the whole thing, but Paige is right—they can’t get onto a plane as best friends and get off it a convincing pair of girlfriends.

Azzi’s face heats at the term. Girlfriends. But that’s what they’ll be, isn’t it?

“I was thinking we’ll tell them next week,” Paige says. “We’ll ask them to hang out and then drop it on them that we’ve been dating since March.” Paige must recognize the look on Azzi’s face, because she puts a hand on her knee—which does absolutely nothing to help. “Is that cool with you?”

Azzi can’t say all of the things she’s thinking right now, so instead she settles for, “Yeah, no.” She pauses, her feet on Paige’s fuzzy carpet, and decides this will be the last time she lets herself doubt this.

“I think that’s perfect.”

————————————

One week later, three Saturdays from the end the school year, Azzi sits with a bowl of popcorn in her lap feeling like she might hurl.

“Why are you acting so weird, Fudd?” KK asks, and Azzi startles at her name, looking at the freshman who’s sitting on the floor in front of her and giving her a weird look.

“Leave her alone, Camera,” Paige says, settling into the couch next to Azzi. “What movie we watching?”

They are all crammed into a dorm, as they often are, excited for a chill team movie night in the midst of finals season. Little do the girls know, they will be getting entertainment from more than just the movie tonight.

“No, KK’s right,” Ice says, scrolling through Netflix on the TV. “Azzi’s been acting super weird.”

Azzi, somewhat offended (she thought her acting skills were pretty decent) looks around the room for help. Instead, the girls all just nod their agreement.

Paige nudges her and raises her eyebrows, and Azzi knows exactly what that look means.

“You don’t have to tell us what’s up if you don’t want,” Inês says from her place on the other side of Azzi, dipping her hand into their shared popcorn. It almost makes Azzi want to back out.

Almost.

Putting on her bravest face, Azzi nods and turns to face their friends. “Paige and I have something we’d like to tell you.”

There’s something odd about the silence that follows this, the way the girls on the floor look at each other before turning their bodies to face the couch, the stragglers sitting in the loveseat and at the dining table leaning forward almost imperceptibly.

Azzi tenses up as she is suddenly under the scrutiny of eleven other girls. How is she going to lie to them? How is this ever going to work?

Paige, through some form of best-friend-telepathy, senses Azzi’s struggle and places a comforting hand on her back. “I can say it.”

This isn’t what they practiced, but Azzi is too grateful and too distracted by the hand on her back to worry about going off-script.

“We’ve been wanting to tell y’all for a while,” Paige says. “But we also wanted to just keep it to ourselves for a little bit.”

It sounds so natural, and effortless, and Azzi can feel herself slipping into this role for the first time. She pretends the hand on her back is more than friendly, the nerves in her stomach are something other than guilt, the things Paige is about to say are true.

If one good thing is going to come out of any of this, it’ll be this feeling of contentment that Azzi will get to have, at least for a little while. And maybe she’s okay with that.

“Do you guys remember that party we went to a couple months ago?” Paige asks. Her nails scratch over Azzi’s shirt, making her shiver.

“Yeah…” Nika says at the table in the corner. Aubrey rests her chin in her palms, looking suspiciously like she’s trying not to smile. For some reason, Ice and KK are clutching each other’s hands.

“Well, when Azzi and I got home we just decided to stay together in her dorm…” Paige trails off like she’s hesitant to continue, and half the girls lean closer to them while the other half look a little too relaxed. Ice is now glaring at KK, who’s…beaming?

“Something happened between us that night.” Paige looks at Azzi now, and even though this is what they were supposed to do the look in her eyes still takes Azzi’s breath for just a moment. She has dreamed of Paige looking at her like this for years, and now it is finally happening, and Azzi thinks she would do anything to make this all real.

Paige opens her mouth to continue, but before she can, KK jumps to her feet and squeals, and Ice throws the remote on the ground with an angry, “Fuck!”

Azzi and Paige both startle, and Azzi loves the way Paige’s hand fists up her shirt in surprise, but then the notices that all the other girls don’t seem surprised or confused at all—rather, they all seem to be having similar reactions to KK. Nika and Aubrey are even singing something, and Inês has jumped up from her spot beside Azzi to join the others in what looks a lot like a celebration. Why are they all chest-bumping each other?

Finally, Azzi finds it in herself to speak. “Guys, what…?”

KK kneels to wrap her arms around a sulking Ice and looks at them both, eyes glimmering. “Whatchu mean, what?”

“I don’t…” Paige releases Azzi’s shirt, her hand falling to the seat behind her. “We haven’t even finished telling you yet.”

“Are y’all actually this dumb?” KK asks, before squealing in Ice’s ear and then throwing herself onto the couple on the couch. “Ugh! I’m so happy for you two lovebirds.”

“Lovebirds…?” Azzi asks, but the room is too raucous for her to be heard and when she looks at Paige, all she gets is an equally confused head shake in return.

“My babies are growing up,” Aubrey says, wiping an invisible tear, and Aaliyah comfortingly pats her shoulder.

“Baby,” Amari says, smiling at the both of them, “we have known.”

“Uh,” Paige says, thrown off for once in her life. “How?”

“Because y’all are the most obvious fucking couple in the country,” Ice chips in. She is still pouting, even with Ayanna patting her on the head and Jana rubbing her shoulders.

During the past week, Paige and Azzi have been dropping a few hints here and there in the hopes that they could almost ease their friends into it before telling them, to make things more believable. But obvious? Obvious enough for all of them to know? That’s a stretch.

Apparently thinking the same thing, Paige laughs awkwardly, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. “We thought we were pretty good at hiding it.”

“Yeah, right.” Caroline flicks Azzi’s forehead good-naturedly. “KK and Ice have had a bet running for, like, six months now.”

At this, Azzi tenses up, and Paige turns to her, gives her a cautious, confused smile. “That long?”

“I started the bet, of course,” KK pipes in. “You two are so in love.” She sighs dreamily and then nudges Ice with her foot. “You owe me my five-hundy, girlypop.”

“You didn’t even actually win, this doesn’t count,” Ice grumbles. “We made the bet six months ago and they only started dating in March. And also, I thought they’d be way too pussy to tell us yet.”

Paige perks up at this, her unusual awkwardness gone as fast as it came. “Hey! I ain’t pussy about nothing!” and KK chimes in with her own protests of, “Girl, boo! It does too still count, you’re just a sore-ass loser!”

Azzi can’t bring herself to say anything, because their teammates believed Azzi and Paige gave been dating longer ago than this arrangement was even brought up. And that means they must have seen Azzi’s feelings for Paige, and whatever the other side of that is, and they don’t really act like a couple, do they?

“Anyway,” Ice continues, a little less pouty now, “I totally thought I’d have to walk in on you two fucking or something before you ever really came clean.”

Azzi squeezes her eyes shut. Paige’s fingernails dig into her back a little bit.

“I actually can’t believe none of us have walked in on them fucking yet,” Nika muses, and the room quiets down a little, everyone mumbling their assent.

“Maybe they’re celibate,” KK reasons, then fixes them with a look. “Are y’all celibate?”

Paige laughs, and then bends close to Azzi’s ear and mutters, “Told you so.”

For the rest of the night, Azzi’s neck is hot.

This might be more complicated than she thought.

[shepscapades]

Is there a world in which we can see the old beesuma and new beesuma panel side by side?

There sure is!

I think these are all of the beesumas I’ve posted, so here are all of the updated drawings I did! It mostly bothered me how inconsistently I had drawn the armor, and as time has gone on I’ve had… ideas… about some things I want the Bee Armor to imply and such, so consolidating the design and making it consistent across the times he’s come up seemed like the best thing to do, since every beesuma appearance has seemed to carry a bit of weight, y’know?

Since it’s the most detailed, the drawing from Children of the Machine was my biggest concern to update and fix! And actually, I was originally just going to redraw the armor and call it done, but when I sat down to look at it again, I wasn't super happy with the general vibe of it I think, and the more I made adjustments to his face the more I realized I just wanted to redraw the whole thing. The posture and expression and everything just didn’t feel right for him—Realistically, s7 Xisuma is still Xisuma, and I don’t think he’d be so animated-looking even when talking project he’d be super excited about. I’ve also drawn his face a lot more over the years (in private mostly dnfbcfhgbbdghn), and so I really think the new drawing is a much better representation of him overall :D <3

The other two (from the Big Shot and Bee Shtick Comic posts, respectively) are much smaller changes. By the time I did the bee shtick comic, I had mostly kinda figured out what I wanted the bee armor to look like, so not much to fix there, and the Big Shot Xisuma is just a bust, so easy fixing there too! The hex-shaped shoulder pad I had originally put on him ended up being moved to his helmet, so yeah :D

[mask131]

I am re-reading the Silmarillion, and something strikes me. The women of Tolkien's world have been talked about TO DEATH especially with all the recurring debates surrounding the Rings of Power series.

As we all know, Tolkien was not a "feminist" in the modern sense of the word. He had a very male-centric point of view and appreciation of the world, he had male-driven and male-centered stories, and actual women characters were sparse and rare. There are only five really big female characters in "The Lord of the Rings" - the quintet of Galadriel, Eowyn, Goldberry, Lobelia and Shelob. [No, don't talk to me about Arwen, she only really was a character in the movies, in the book she's just there in the appendix and she was literaly an afterthought of Tolkien to act as Eowyn's romantic double...]

Consider this. Galadriel, Eowyn, Goldberry, Lobelia and Shelob. This tells you everything you need to know about Tolkien's women, in good and bad.

The Silmarillion has the same motif of having a lot of female characters, only for most of them to be just footnotes, secondary characters with no lines, under-developped one-liners... with in a contrast a handful of super-cool, super-badass, complex and developed heroines at the center of the plot.

Aka, on the bad side, when listing the Valar, while Tolkien gives an interesting personality, great domains and cool attributes to all the male ones, half of the female ones are just... there. And do one stuff. And never appear again. I mean come on... Vana and Nessa? Estë and Vairë were done dirty... That's the actual type of "non-feminism" Tolkien has. It isn't about him hating women or trying to be offensive in his depictions - it is about him just, not putting as much thought, effort and care into his female characters as his male ones, a bit the same way he creates the vast expanses of the East and South of Middle-Earth and then never bothers actually developing more of it or seeking to tell tales of it - but that's for another discussion about Tolkien's "racism". Here we talk about women.

But here's the thing, aka the good side... When Tolkien does find the time and care to develop and flesh out a female character, by Iluvatar he goes all out! Again, we are back on what I said earlier: the women of Lord of the Rings can be counted on one hand... but these fingers are Galadriel, Eowyn and Shelob, so you can't claim he isnt writing powerful, important or uninterestng female characters. Which leads me to my original remark - as usual I get driven away in digressions of all sorts and kinds.

Have you ever noticed that Melkor's greatest enemies, the ones he fears the most, and his most effective foes... are women? Tolkien might not like to put them front and center of his tales, and he might have been a man of the early 20th century England in culture and mind, but boy does he has something to say about how women are actually the first enemies of the literal embodiment of evil and destruction! I mean think about it. Varda of the Stars, and Yavanna of the trees. Nienna has her ambiguous relationship to him - her tears work against him, and yet without her plea for him he likely would not have been released from the dungeons of Mandos. You have Melian with her Girdle, and Luthien with her Hound. And of course most of all Arien, guardian of the Sun, not only one of the rare fire spirits that Melkor couldn't corrupt (despite him basically ruling over all fire), but that frightens him so much he keeps hiding away and doesn't even dare to attack her... [I also reblogged some times ago a post praising the brilliance of Tolkien keeping the old European sun-moon motifs but switching the genders. The weaker, inconsistant, lustful, whimsical, disorderly, untrustworthy Moon is now a male principle, while the steady, dangerous, strong, powerful and beautiful Sun is a woman.]

It is actually REALLY easy to do a feminist retelling of Tolkien's work. Melkor doesn't fear Manwë as much as Varda. Aulë's works and servants get corrupted by Melkor, while Yavanna's do not. Melian and Luthien actively works against him. He friggin' pisses himself when the Woman of the Sun shows up. Sure, there are some evil female characters that serve him down the line and are relegated to the "obscure footnotes and undescribed secondary characters" zone - Thuringwethil the vampire or queen Beruthiel. I coul also dropped deleted characters from early drafts, like the ogress Fluithuin. But among them stands Ungoliant... THE only true female big bad on the dark side of Arda. THE badass, nightmarish, creepy eldritch abomination. And who ends up double-crossing Melkor, almost KILLING him, and again making him basically shit in his pants - as Varda and Arien do.

The first enemies of Morgoth are not the Valar, or the Maiar, or the Elves... It's women.

[ladyrosemone]

My favorite

We've got all the ingredients, except you needing me - Cake, Melanie Martinez

I'm using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ Please excuse any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies, I swear I'm studying to improve my written English 😭 This idea came to me thanks to @kiwisandpearls, I loved your take on the abandoned Waynes haha! I'll definitely be making more at some point.

The Waynes, the most powerful and influential family in Gotham City, the diamond that gives it an artificial shine, replacing the forgetful Sun, which never seems to illuminate those lands of darkness.

What makes the Waynes different from other Gotham millionaires is not their humility, nor their sense of duty to their employees and followers, much less their reckless extravagance when it comes to spreading their (according to gossip) infinite wealth.

No, none of that, it's something more private, more intimate.

Love.

At first no one believed that, because come on, Bruce Wayne? The greatest playboy known throughout the world, with adopted children as if they were precious jewels every season, conceited and proud, a philanthropic genius of unfair beauty? In love? Pure gossip that entertained for a while, but was never more than that, gossip for the elite and showbiz for the lower class.

Until a newspaper (one that does not usually produce so many fallacies), revealed its newest scandal.

"Bruce Wayne Spotted With Young Beauty! Has Gotham's Biggest Mogul Finally Settled Down?"

If that wasn't enough, they were right, because the next launch came with Olympic magnitudes!

"Bruce Wayne's Child Finally Revealed! Gives Exclusive Interview About Him Sudden Return"

And how do we get to this?

When a man loves a woman...oh no, that's not how it started.

It was a woman from his youth, one who left when the next day and returned when Batman appeared in Gotham City.

You arrived as a ten-year-old child; small and confused, scared and insecure, longing for you deceased mother and the life you left behind with her. Bruce didn't know how to relate to you at first, and having an angry, newly orphaned child didn't make him any better, but he tried, he really did.

And little by little it worked...only in one child.

You could never get over the loss of your mother, she was your whole world and now you were with this...man who claims to be your father, a father you never had and out of nowhere he gives you things and takes you to his work to meet more boring old men. To make matters worse, that child he adopted out of charity is irritating, one day bothering you for being "spoiled" and the next wanting to spend a sibling afternoon with you.

But you don't have brothers.

You didn't have them when Jason arrived (although you cried for him), you didn't have them when Tim arrived and definitely not when Damian arrived and his arrogant attitude of the legitimate son wanting to hang out with only you. It's frustrating! Every second of the day is a request from someone to go out, to eat together, to...For anything to keep them attached like fleas!

You remember one of Richard's last attempts, before he left Gotham for an exchange, or for you a chance to get away from that family;

You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast that she had prepared herself because it makes you uncomfortable to have an older man serving you, when Richard appears with his hundred-dollar smile and a lot of irritating energy.

"Hello hello!" He greets you with his usual energy "How did my favorite person wake up?"

It's too early for this you think tiredly, taking a sip of coffee.

Your lack of response doesn't discourage him, it motivates him more for some strange reason "I have wonderful news, I got a vacation from work! And guess where we're going?"

"We're going?" Bored questions, annoyed by the new plan that you were not consulted about, again.

"That's the spirit! Let's go to Disneyland!"

"..." you look at him with dead eyes, and with all your heart you wonder how that big boy is a functional adult "I can't today, but ask me tomorrow, I'll surely be free to go"

"Really?"

"No"

Next is Jason, who although he was not as insistent as Richard, was the most energetic in his attempts, then the Joker thing happened and...well, you can't treat him badly, you're not cruel.

But coming back from the dead is his pity card, used so many times that you wonder every day if it became an excuse at some point.

"Hey" he said to you one day when he found you in the library "There's an art and literature exhibition in the downtown library, let's go"

"...I'm already reading"

"You can read with me and shop at the same time, you like shopping don't you?"

"I like my time alone with my book, Jason"

"You didn't used to say the same thing, but that's what makes you die, it leaves you thinking about your past life..."

"..."

"...Are you coming?"

"I hope you get hit by a car"

Tim is a silent pusher, he doesn't come close but you know he's there, and that happens brr brr every minute with a brr brr new message.

"Where are you?"

"Are you really asking me?"

"I give you the benefit of the doubt"

"I'm going to block you"

"Again?"

"The computers of the whole city"

Virtual annoyance has been disconnected

And Damian...OMG Damian.

It's a nuisance, a sharp little nuisance; refusing to leave your side whenever he can, demanding attention, time together, activities and visits to any place he wants.

"Sibling" greets the boy, who doesn't even know where he came from if you're at university right now and he should be at school.

"What are you doing here Damian?" You demanded harshly, looking everywhere so that no one would associate Bruce Wayne's youngest son with you, not when you did your best not to be recognized as a Wayne since you were a child.

"I want to go save wildlife in Africa from hunters and I need an adult to accompany me" he explains as if it were the most normal thing in the world, another Thursday for him.

"Tell Bruce-"

"Father"

"Let me take you, or take Richard, don't bother me"

"And I don't want adopted children, I want my blood accompanying me in this mission to safeguard wildlife"

"If I tell you if you leave?"

"Are you going with me?"

"Yes yes whatever"

You didn't go.

And not to mention the collateral damage; Barbara and her constant moments of togetherness solving cases (you don't answer her messages), Stephenie and her desire for you to teach her how to cook (you never go to the mansion's kitchen), Cassandra wanting to be by your side (years with Bruce allowed you to develop a sixth sense to evade his shadows), and the newest, Duke Thomas.

He is fine...he keeps his distance, and deliberately ignores the fact that not a single light bothers his eyesight all day.

The worst of all, your father, Bruce Wayne.

Money, gifts, trips, clothes, portraits, everything he can give you, he gives it to you, so much so that you feel like drowning sometimes.

It is strict and suffocating, affectionate but distant, present and absent at the same time. It is annoying and contradictory!

He was the reason you went on exchange to Metropolis, until you discovered that the Kents were close friends of your father and that their approach was not of good will, relocating you to Spain until you finished university.

Reluctantly you had to go back, just long enough to finish the paperwork and stop being Wayne once and for all.

But that was your mistake, coming home, and this time they won't let you go, because you can't hate them more and that's an opportunity for them.

[cruxsims]

Hello guys! these past few weeks I've been working on fixing up many details of my CC and now everything is ready to share with you guys!

The tl;dr is that I've updated all of my thumbnails so they have a better readability in CAS, renamed all my files so they're quicker to read when loading the game, and I updated some details of some specific files I felt like they could've been done better! (all of my hairs + some accs)

Get the .zip with all my files here!!

If you only wish to download the files that have been actually modified and not just given a new thumbnail, you can go through my Patreon and check which posts begin with a note that says "2025 update", so you can pick and choose which ones to download

*Note: if this is your first time seeing my CC, I don't recommend downloading the .zip file either. There's many more files than the ones I mention in the post, some are even recolors that won't work as they don't include the base mesh

Under the cut I will ramble more specifically about all the updates with more detail if you're curious!

Hair updates:

All of my hairs now use the same texture and include the extra PuppyCrow swatches! My oldest hairs were missing them and I wanted them there too tbh

Also!! all hairs are now also compatible with @raccoonium's overlays!

The biggest issue I had with the overlays is that, due to the texture I use, making the split overlays work for them made the hairs look Really bad.

But when trying stuff out I was able to get?? other varied results with them. For the most part they work recoloring the inner layers of the hairs, but for cases such as the Tighnari and Welt hairs it recolors the special strands essentially. All posts will include gifs like these to show the specific compatibility with the overlays

I hope you guys enjoy the extra variety!

On top of that, I remade many of my older hat chops as well. Some of them were so bad guys. I finally understand more of blender to know how to make them significantly nicer lmao

Accessory updates:

Nothing really major here, I mostly added speculars (metallic shine) to my older accs that didn't have them, and fixed things that were bothering me like the weights in the Yae jewelry and making the Kokomi crown still usable with her outfit and eyelashes at the same time

I hadn't even realized they don't spin in the same direction. oops

Thumbnail updates:

The small inconsistencies between my cc releases layouts always bothered me a little, especially the way I randomly changed the font I used one day and never went back to change it lmao. I desperately wanted to do this kind of update rn before I had more cc and this would become impossible to go back and change

All in-game thumbnails are now slightly different from my release pics as well, making the texts bigger so they're all fully readable and easier to recognize and search! I've also updated the index numbers so now they should all show up (almost) at the bottom of your cas items. I like the bottom it's cozy down here

Don't worry about those blurred out items haha they're definitely and absolutely not my upcoming hair releases. Nothing to see here

And that's basically it! Might not seem like a lot of work but being honest it took me way longer than I expected </3 I hope you guys can enjoy everything though!! I just wanted everything I had once made to live up to the quality of my current cc skills

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

something that has bothered me about tua seasons 2-4 is the inconsistency of the relationships between the siblings.

starting with klaus, in season 1 ben and diego were his people. ben and klaus were always shown together in the flashbacks to them as kids and obviously every second of the show because klaus was the only one who could see him. but like… they were CLOSE. SO FUCKING CLOSE. they were the most SIBLINGS of all the siblings.

that continued into season 2. ben was randomly a bit colder towards klaus but they were still so fucking close.

and then ben left, and klaus for the first time was alone without his person. everyone else lost a brother when they were 17, except klaus. so he had to grieve ben for the first time. that didn’t happen, though. there were many nods to them being close, and then of course steve blackman pulled a steve blackman which means weird unnecessary incest implications, but it wasn’t clear just how close klaus and brellie ben were even though it had to be hard to be around someone who looked like ben and was kind of ben but also wasn’t ben.

and with diego, it also seemed like he and klaus were incredibly close. diego older-brothered klaus constantly s1 and they gave off the impression that they ran into each other a lot in the city during the years since leaving the academy.

then they completely disregarded it for the rest of the seasons. in s2 and s3 there a few interactions that could lend credence to this but for the most part it seemed like they threw it out the window.

allison and klaus had no clear relationship in season 1. they had some incredibly minor sibling interactions but nothing that indicated they were anywhere near as close as they imply in season 4. season 2 they were close and then season 3 not a lot of interaction. but s4 makes it seem like they have always been incredibly close which doesn’t make sense!!

five and viktor have a relatively consistent friendship, although s4 doesn’t really give viktor any relationship development with his siblings. same with five, if anything he just gets his relationships destroyed but that’s a different post!!

allison and viktor also are pretty consistently close. the implication is that they weren’t as kids but that they really try to be as adults, and i do like their relationship overall.

luther and allison nasty ew kill it with fire. like i thought we established in s2 that incest is weird actually and that we weren’t doing that and then season 3 came along and whatever whatever shut up.

diego and luther’s relationship is fun. they go from adversaries to himbo besties and it’s relatively consistent.

luther and viktor have similar growth. luther goes from piece of shit basically causing the apocalypse s1 because of how shitty he was to viktor towards really wanting to make things right and being the big brother he always should have been. they didn’t really have a relationship s4 but WHATEVER.

i feel like five and luther were together a lot the first two seasons and that very much changed. i’m not even that upset as i think five having character arcs with each sibling is good since he missed so many years with them (other than him and viktor they were always close and should have remained that way).

i think allison and diego and viktor and diego having relationship development would have been cool. in the comics viktor and diego have a band so we know they’re friends. and in the show allison and diego don’t have too many interactions but the ones they do have are SOOOO SIBLING and i adore that.

ben and viktor have some closeness s3-4 (and the end of s2) but it’s not really something we see, more so we’re just told. and then random flashback to them hanging out as kids before the mission which was confusing.

i think five and klaus were done the dirtiest with the relationship inconsistency. i understand wanting different characters to have arcs with different people, but when you sacrifice the established relationships and basically put your characters on shuffle then you also sacrifice character consistency, development, growth, etc.

i think a big problem is how many characters they brought on last season. there wasn’t time for consistent relationships among the brellies when they had to use a shit ton of time building new characters and relationships (and immediately killing them all off which was A Choice).

anyway just wanted to write out thoughts about this. would love to know other people’s thoughts (or headcanons about the siblings).

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Hello, I hope I'm not bothering you with this message, but I wanted to ask you something.

I recently started playing Love and DeepSpace a few weeks ago. I actually downloaded it because of Sylus—his edits kept appearing on my feed, and I was instantly drawn to him. However, after downloading the game and going through his chapters, I found his behavior toward the MC quite problematic.

One of my friends told me that Sylus isn’t like the typical dark romance characters from today’s BookTok trends, which honestly made me even more excited to explore his story. But when I watched Long-Awaited Revelry, I was honestly shocked by how he was handling the MC. I couldn’t help but wonder—is this really the same man who once sacrificed himself for her?

I tried my best to dig deeper into his lore, and I genuinely found his character to be selfless and sacrificial. But I’m struggling to understand how someone so selfless could hurt the MC in the main storyline. I can overlook many things, but one scene in particular really gave me a huge ick—when he takes her to Philip's shop. If I remember correctly, he uses his evol on her body, and she even says, “It hurts.” Then he replies with, “You will hurt even more.” That scene truly unsettled me. How could he say that when she clearly expressed she was in pain? Isn't that physical abuse?

Please correct me if I’m misunderstanding or wrongly labeling it as abuse. I just can't seem to make sense of that moment, especially after immersing myself in his backstory. It feels like the writers did him dirty in Long-Awaited Revelry. I mean, if someone could sacrifice their life for the person they love, how could they ever intentionally hurt them—even to remind them of the past?

It’s really hard for me to connect the version of Sylus we see in that scene with the one from his 5-star memories, where he seems like a completely different, much softer person. I genuinely love him a lot, and that’s what makes it even more upsetting. I usually adore dark characters—the kind who would burn the world for their beloved but would never hurt their beloved. Sylus doing this in the main story was unexpected and, honestly, kind of icky for me. 🥲

How do I come to terms with his redemption arc after knowing what he did in Long-Awaited Revelry (especially that physical hurt while taking her to the shop)? Is there a deeper context I might be missing—something that justifies his behavior? I really don’t want to dislike him, but it’s hard to reconcile such a hurtful scene with the selfless man his backstory shows. And again im saying i do not hate him but its just hard to overlook that scene especially knowing that he loves her so much and is willing to do anything for her. It seems like the Sylus who is shown in the long awaited reverly is not the same Sylus who is shown as so selfless in his myth and in his recent soft memory cards.

So I've already gone into this a bit in two previous asks that you can find here and here. But I can delve into it again, though my answer will be the same just more in depth I guess lol ^^

Ok so here are my main points

I don't at all think that this is a case of bad or inconsistent writing by Sylus' creative team. Sylus is a carefully – meticulously, even – crafted character who'd been in development for at least 5 years before he was introduced in the main story. I guarantee that his team know what they are doing with him and that they'd never do him dirty. They love him as much as if not more than we the fanbase do.

It's important to remember that we lack a lot of lore and context. We don't have all the puzzle pieces yet when it comes to Sylus or his relationship with MC. We're missing a huge chunk of backstory starting from their escape from the nebula up to Sylus' Anecdote. It is very possible that something happened in that time (or perhaps in another myth?) that can provide further explanations for Sylus' behavior in LAR. We'll just have to be patient and see.

For now though the simplest and most logical explanation to me is that Sylus is acting out of character in early LAR because he is in emotional distress. He is hurt, distraught, frustrated, desperate, possibly even fearful. He did not at all expect for things to happen the way they did, for the love of his life to not recall him at all even after coming face to face, for her to hate him, nor for her powers to be weak. I think it's pretty clear that he worries something was done to weaken her during the time that he wasn't observing her from afar – hence why he takes her to Philip and why he asks him if "someone put in a suppressor". Her suddenly deteriorated power makes him anxious for MC's future safety, and his fear has good reason – he is aware of the dangers posed to her by EVER.

He is also just simply desperate for her to regain her memories, which is also understandable. His pain and grief and frustration over his literal soulmate being unable to remember a single thing about him makes even more sense now after Death and Rebirth and the Timelock Key event. I'm ngl I wouldn't handle the same scenario well at all either, but would probably have a major crashout, especially if I'd done and been through all that Sylus has. In early LAR Sylus is basically a person who is desperately trying to remind a loved one (a literal chosen soulmate at that) with amnesia of their past and of themself. (An example of his trying to jog her memories is this part right here where he is recreating an environment mimicking the arena they fought in as kids).

To put it simply, Sylus isn't calm or rational or gentle because the situation he is in is deeply emotionally distressing and unexpected, and in his distraught state he is willing to cross lines he would not in normal situations. He loses himself, going as far as to override his core principle re: MC (her autonomy and consent). In this instance of raw hurt and desperation he thinks that the ends justify the means. This alone shows that he is not in a good or normal state of mind (and again why would he be?)

Now, that being said, does Sylus' emotional distress excuse his actions or make them justifiable? No. Because what he did in LAR simply isn't justifiable and isn't meant to be.

Like I've said before, you'll never catch me defending his actions or making excuses for them regardless of Sylus' reasonings. His behavior was wrong, and is portrayed as such by the narrative. We are meant to be uncomfortable and upset by those scenes. And we are meant to take MC's side and empathise with her as the victim of harsh and fucked up treatment, (while we can also with the context we now have also empathise with Sylus' emotional pain and anxiety – but we shouldn't excuse or justify him). Sylus himself realizes that he went way too far and obviously deeply regrets it – that's why his behavior changes notably afterwards. He is never again forceful or coercive with MC, but on the contrary always walks at her pace, and is twice shown to be prepared to let go of her. And I think his character is all the more beautiful for the fact that he is capable of learning from his mistakes and of bettering himself.

So in summary; Sylus behaving out of character in those early chapters makes perfect sense considering the circumstances and is imo an instance of good and realistic writing rather than bad or thoughtless. The writers were not in any way doing Sylus dirty, but were showing us a character that is flawed and emotionally hurting and capable of fucking up royally in certain situations, but who is also capable of real self reflection and of learning from his mistakes. The early chapters in LAR are integral to his character development, adding layers and depth and vulnerability to him and thus, ironically enough, make him more "human".

This is my perspective anyway, and I hope that it provided some food for thought ♡. I do want to say though that if you still feel the same re: Sylus' behavior, or if you have a completely different perspective from mine, that's ok and understandable. As always I am simply stating my own personal thoughts and interpretations, nothing more nothing less. Not trying to influence or change the way anyone thinks or feels or stating that my interpretation is the "correct" one. I am just working with the material we currently have and trying to piece the pieces together in the way that makes most sense to me, but which inevitably might not to others.