#fourth wall librarians

[mieowkoid09]

I need more content of the fourth wall librarians cuz omg they're so fun. I need to see them interacting with eachother and Kim Dokja I need to see them playing cards I need to see their character development develop in the library of plot developments. I also need to see the time when SP conned YJH into stealing Kim Dokja's novel comments book from his brain library please and thank you

[freyadragonlord]

Yoo Sangah has to be the smartest, most sensible kimcom member.

Cause she was the only one with the guts to put Dokja on an actual leash.

[metanarrates]

nirvana's death via being absorbed into the fourth wall is so interesting to me. death via fictionality.

[gilverrwrites]

Meet Cutes Uglies Ft. Bruce, Dick, and Jason

GN!Reader, ≈500 words each

CWs: Mild/nonexplicit threats of violence, slut-shaming (but not really), swearing.

Bruce

The chances of bumping into a celebrity not once, twice, thrice, but four times in one day are low, but not impossible as you’re finding out.

It was kinda cool realising you’re stood behind him in line at the coffee shop, but not spectacularly cool or anything. Almost everyone you knew had a story about meeting Bruce, or another member of the Wayne family out in public so you weren’t overly excited. You just kept your head down, scrolling through your socials and wondering whether his drink was the iced cold brew, the fudge brownie hot chocolate, or the three pump vanilla no foam cappuccino. Your friend Jade was right, he is far ‘hunkier’ than the media gives him credit for, his piercing eyes really are that blue, and he smells good too, like bergamot and cedar.

It became somewhat more exciting when you'd headed to the library on your lunch break to return a book, only for him to already be there, chatting-up the librarians no less. Your friends were not going to believe this. He must sense you staring at him because he turns to look at you, when you make eye contact you smile, wondering if he might recognise you from the morning. He did not smile back.

Upon returning to work, the rest of your shift had been gruelling, job after job being piled onto your shoulders with minimal time to get them all done. You hadn’t even had the chance to tell your co-workers about your unlikely encounters with Gotham’s richest man. By the time you got off for the night, you were exhausted, the thought of having to cook dinner and wash the pots once you got home looming over you like a rain cloud until you decide to grab some take-out on your way home instead.

You’re barely out of the doors of Big Belly Burgers, a handful of fries hanging from your lips when you see him for the 3rd time. Bruce Wayne, on the sidewalk across the street, engrossed in what seemed to be a very intense telephone call. Weird.

You don’t have to wait long for the fourth encounter, it happens just a few blocks from your home. He’s much closer this time, a little too close for comfort maybe. You hadn’t seen it coming, one moment you’re rifling through your bag, looking for your keys, the next you’re suspended a few inches from the ground by a pair of strong hands fisted into the collar of your jacket. Instinctively you paw at him, one hand wrapping around his wrist, the other bunching up in the fabric of his sweater for faux support.  

You think for a moment you’re being mugged, until the familiar smell of wood and citrus hits your senses. Bruce Wayne is pressing you against the cold, damp wall of an alleyway, handsome face marred by its stern expression.

“Who are you?” He demands. “And why are you following me?”

>[Continued]<

Dick

The only thing worse than the feel of the uneven, filth-trodden pavements of Blüdhaven against your bare feet, is the thought of putting the torturous pair of dress shoes you’d worn last night back on. Perhaps you should have asked your hookup for something to wear, but that would almost certainly guarantee your having to see them again in order to return it and you’d happily walk barefoot across Tartarus before you let that happen.

Careful to avoid stepping in anything less than savoury, you keep your eyes glued to the floor, so focused on the things below you, that you don’t notice the things in front of you. The person in front of you, until you plough right into their admittedly firm chest.

The person in question reeks of stale alcohol, his shiny hair is a mess, there’s a shadow forming on his striking jawline, and the half-undone shirt he’s wearing is clearly wrinkled and stained from the night before. A fellow walk-of-shamer.

You stare at each other for a long moment before you realise you had bumped into him, therefore you should be the one to speak first.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” You murmur, voice hoarse.

“No problem.” He replied, far too chipper for his current predicament. His eyes rake up and down your body, and you might be vexed by it if you had not just been doing the same to him. “Why aren’t you wearing your shoes.”

“They hurt my feet.” You shrug, taking a cautious sidestep around him as you speak. “Just want to get home, they were slowing me down.”

That should be the end of it, but the sound of his dress boots tapping against the sidewalk follows you down the street. You can’t be certain, but you were pretty sure he’d been walking in the opposite direction prior to your collision. You cast a glance over your shoulder, and sure enough, he’s just a few steps behind you, offering you a striking smile that almost makes the grey morning feel brighter.

“Proposal?” He asks, and you stop to listen. Possibly because you’re genuinely intrigued, probably because your brain isn’t awake enough to tell your heart that you shouldn’t talk to strangers. “If I can get you home without you having to use your feet, will you go out for breakfast with me?”

“You’re really asking me out during a walk of shame?” You snicker, impressed by his audacity.

“We don’t shame in 2024, I prefer to call it a stride of pride.” He informs you, and he has a point. “Besides, might be fate that we walked into each other this fine morning, gotta give it a chance, right?”

“Right.” You agree, but your raised brow and puckered lips might suggest some scepticism. He doesn’t seem put off however, still beaming that brilliant smile at you. “And how do you plan on getting me home?”

“Easy.” He shakes his head, conveying his confidence as he beckons you closer by curling two fingers towards himself. You follow his direction and before you can comprehend what’s going on he’s crouching before you, threading his body between your legs and lifting you on his back, piggy style.

“So, where do you live?”

Jason

The coffee shop is that perfect level of busy that's not overwhelming but isn't too quiet as to be unsettling. Your drink is the ideal temperature, and the evening sun is seeping through the windows at just the right angle to warm your skin and add a golden glow to the atmosphere. By all accounts, this should be the perfect, relaxing moment, except… this book sucks.

You’d thought after years of recommendations from friends, many critically acclaimed adaptions, and its general status as a must-read classic that it was high time you picked it up, but you were about two-thirds in and thoroughly not enjoying yourself.

“Excuse me.” A low voice draws you from the pages of the book. You hadn’t noticed the 6ft+ mountain of tattooed muscle casting a shadow over your table until you looked into his eyes. Oh wow. You don’t know why he’s approached you, but whatever it is; he can have it. “Are you reading Lady Liatris?”

“I am.” You confer, lazily tilting the cover to show him, despite your reading choice already being apparent.

“Nice to meet a fellow bibliophile out in the wild. What do you think of it so far?” He smiles at you, reaching out a hand, your heart sinks as his strong fingers wrap around your own for a handshake.

“Well….” Handsome, well-read, confident enough to approach you, and you were about to blow it with your brutal honesty. “I haven’t finished it yet, so I won’t commit, but so far I am not impressed.”

“What?” He actually flinched. “No way. Where are you up to?”

“I just finished the bit where Claude professed his love for Florance at the flower show, which was the drollest thing I’ve ever read, and it went on and on for far too many pages.” It was probably impolite for you to be venting so quickly to this stranger, but you just couldn’t help it, the words just kept coming. “Not to mention its total lack of realistic feminism, you can’t just unveil your fencing champion to secretly be a woman and call it a day, every other woman in this book is either a two-dimensional gossiping villain or a two-dimensional love interest for the male side characters.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” The mystery man shakes his head at you in disbelief as he situates himself in the chair across from your own. “First of all, it was a product of its time, and is widely considered to be one of the greatest pieces of feminist literature despite its origins, secondly, did you not read any of Evie’s subplot?”

The conversation continues that way, back and forth. He emphasises his points with big sweeping, passionate movements of his arms. He nods his head and purses his lips when you make arguably good points and grits his teeth when he disagrees with you. Neither of you notice when the sun goes down, or your drinks going cold until the barista informs you both that they’ll be closing in a few minutes.

Shit. You’d been debating classic-lit with this guy for at least 2 hours, and you didn’t even know his name. The sentiment appears to be shared because he offers you a comically confused frown as he puts his jacket back on and offers you a hand standing from your seat.

You exit the café into the cool night air together. You’re not sure if you should ask his name and invite him over, or say goodbye, fortunately, he removes the need to decide by handing you a napkin with his name and number jotted onto it in black marker. Jason.

“Call me when you’ve finished the book.” He instructs, and then he gone.

[sooniebby]

Thinking…. (Bottom male reader). Feminization is the main kink. Lemme know if I should expand this into a full fic!

Playboy reader who’s known for sleeping with everyone and their mama (literally). You have a girlfriend or boyfriend every two weeks, dropping them like flies when you get bored.

But you end up finding your new target for the week, the student council president. Much to your shock, you didn’t have to ware him down at all. You asked him out once and he said yes.

So you’re excited. You mostly get girlfriends and while they’re cool, boyfriends are your favorite! They always act so shy when you ride them for the first time. The more inexperienced, the more fun.

So imagine your shock when you’re over at your new “boyfriend’s” house and he has you dressed in a girly dress with knee high socks. At first, you just push past it… you don’t judge…

Until when you try to take over after foreplay, doing your usually riding when he doesn’t even react…? You’re about damn near pissed off, your legs are aching, you’re embarrassed about this damn outfit.

Doesn’t help he starts fucking yawning?!?!

It’s not until you straight up tell him, “what the hell man?! If I’m boring you so damn much, then you take over!”

Though it hurts your pride to not be the dominate player. He took your words to heart because suddenly your pressed against his wall, balancing on one leg while he holds the other up and slams his cock deep into your slicked hole.

He’s harsh and unpredictable. Even after you cum, your body heaving, you notice he’s not even close to tired.

You find yourself ass up and face pressed against the bed as he takes you like a bitch. Your riding was nothing compared to this. His large hands grip your ass before a smack is delivered to it, causing you to squeal in shock.

“You’re so cute, (Name)-Chan…Make that sound again…”

Chan?! You don’t even get to ask what’s with all this feminization when he’s fucking you like a slut in heat. It takes longer than you thought possible for him to finally reach his first orgasm of the night (your fourth).

You’re collapsed against the bed, struggling to breathe when he manhandled you onto your back, legs pushed to your chest. He grins at you, his glasses foggy as he leans down.

“You’re going to enjoy being my slut, (Name)-Chan. I’ve been waiting to make you mine. I’m going to ruin you so bad you’ll only want my cock in this tight cunt of yours.”

huh…. Guess you were no longer the playboy of your school anymore.

Tag list: @flurrina @mello-life69 @chill-guy-but-cooler @rhetorical-conscience @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @remdayz @tomoeroi @the-ultimate-librarian @love-kha1 @ofclyde @smellwell @star-3214 @tehyunnie

[hanglimi]

opposite - yu jimin

jimin is sick and tired of the stupid, good for nothing student who keeps throwing parties in the dorm room above hers. but woah, she's the complete opposite of what jimin imagined, and really hot too.

TAGS - jimin x f! reader, fluff, college au

WORDCOUNT - 2100~

WARNINGS - substance use, swearing, suggestiveness,

A/N - this is really dialogue heavy, and i can't tell if that's a bad or good thing.

“oh my god, does this ever fucking stop?” ningning whined as she sat atop jimin’s bed, her feet crossed over each other, laptop thrown onto one of the multiple pillows.

jimin threw her friend a questioning look over her shoulder. the girl was acting crazy, and she had no time to engage if she wanted to finish the paper her professor had given her weeks before. the longer she left ning alone, the better chance of there being no continuation to the conversation.

“seriously, jimin! this is driving me insane.”

“what the hell do you mean, ning,” she groaned, laying her head down on her table.

“the dorm above you! i can genuinely feel the ceiling shaking with how loud the music is, and it’s been like this everyday this week!” ningning was practically hyperventilating at this point, and sure, while jimin thought she was being a tad bit dramatic, she also had a point.

but unfortunately, jimin had gotten so used to the girl above her, and her endless parties, that she barely noticed it anymore.

“here.” she reached down into her backpack by the base of her desk, grasping around in the pockets for what she was looking for. she finally felt it’s wire as she pulled it out of the bag and threw it over to her friend, glancing back down at her respective laptop.

“earbuds? really?”

jimin ignored her question, getting back to work. If she wanted to pass this class before the end of the semester, she had no time to idly chat with her friend, no matter how much she loved her.

“jimin!” ningning screamed again a couple seconds later, her head in her hands. “how the fuck do you live with this?” she curled into herself on the bed, as if that would help with the walls literally bouncing with each bass hit from upstairs.

“remind me to never come to your dorm again. from now on, we're studying in the library,”

jimin simply giggled at the comment, tuning out the bass boosted audio and her best friend’s whining.

“damn, jimin!” aeri said, snatching the girl’s phone from her, pausing her music so she could hear what was happening, “how loud do you need your music to be to actually hear it?”

jimin gave her a sneer, and reached back for her phone, but it was just so far across the table, and minjeong was faster than her, grabbing it, and pocketing it. aeri chuckled at her struggles before slapping a hand over her mouth, slowly turning her head towards the front of the library, hoping she wouldn’t get a third warning from the librarian just today.

“her eardrums are probably nonexistent because of the bitch above her,” ning noted as she scrolled on her phone, obviously distracted from what they actually came here for.

“you’re still on about that?” jimin drawled, dropping her head and leaning down in her seat, giving up on trying to retrieve her device. “and was i the only one still on task? it’s literally only been thirty minutes, guys.”

“on about what?” minjeong asked, leaning into the gossip, “who lives above jimin?”

“dude, if i knew what her name was i'd tell you.” ningning sat up, getting ready to entertain her. “all i know is that she throws a party like every other day, and plays overly obnoxious bass boosted music. and the RA of their floor just doesn't care.”

“jimin’s on the fourth floor, right?”

jimin nodded at aeri’s question. she just wanted to finish the discussion, and get back to studying, but her friends obviously felt otherwise.

“oh my god, jimin, i fucking know who that is! it’s that y/n chick,” aeri said, laughing, but her eyes widened as she heard the loud shush of the librarian.

“as i was saying, everyone on the fifth floor despises y/n, like genuinely hates,” she said.

jimin groaned as the three of them continued to talk about every single rumour y/n was involved in, and she pressed at her eyes with the palms of her hands until she started seeing dots.

“i’m literally the one who lives below her, and i don’t care this much,” jimin complained, adjusting her body so she was sat in the chair properly. “unlike you guys, i actually have things to do, so give me back my phone, minjeong”

they all groaned at her words, minjeong muttering as she handed the device to the girl’s outreached hand.

“you’re such a buzzkill, jimin,” aeri let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“yeah, fucking buzz killer,” ning followed up.

“buzz kill~.” minjeong sang, giggling a bit with the other two girls at the end.

“shut up!”

the librarian near the main entrance lowered her glasses down her nose at the outburst, glaring at their table. “you four girls over there! out!”

jimin made sure to flip her friends off as she snatched her things away from the table, walking back to her dreaded dorm, with a huge headache caused from the three.

it was never this bad.

like sure, jimin would often notice how loud y/n’s music was, but she never really got this mad about it. it was only a passing thought usually, but today, she couldn’t ignore it. and somehow, her body betrayed her, leading jimin out of her dorm, into the elevator, and facing the perpetrators door.

she knocked once, letting precious seconds pass as she stood in front of the dorm room, tapping her foot against the floor, slipping into the beat of the drums that was in the song playing from inside the room. no one answered, even though she could tell from the yelling that there were at least ten people in there. she let out a deep exhale through her nose, and raised her fist to knock, hitting the door again.

jimin waited there a little bit longer, still tapping her foot to the song as her mind wandered to how she would deal with the infamous y/n. she waited for what she thought was eternity before she got impatient, and raised her fist to knock again, but before she could make contact, the door swung open.

“who are you?” the girl who opened the door asked, while jimin strained to hear her over her overbearing chewing of gum. the stench of liquor infiltrated her nose from the open door, and there was a light fog covering the room, hazing up her vision of any furniture in the dorm. the loud music was piercing her brain now, closer than ever, and it was making her headache stronger.

“is y/n here?” she asked in response, but the girl only stared blankly at her, continuing to chew. jimin’s jaw clenched at the lack of reaction, but assumed y/n's friend couldn’t hear her over the music.

“is y/n here!” she repeated much louder, leaning closer to the girl’s ear, but the girl shoved her backwards immediately, and sneered at her.

“i’m not deaf yet, bitch. i was just trying to figure out if you were one of her exes,” the girl scolded, leaning an arm on the doorframe and turning her body to face the inside of the dorm.

“y/n! did you invite one of your flings to our party again?” the girl screamed into the fog while jimin scowled at the back of her head. apparently, y/n responded, because she turned back around to face her after a couple of seconds. “y/n will be here in a few,” and she shut the door.

jimin already hated the girl, and she didn’t even know her name.

the door reopened after a few moments to who jimin assumed was y/n, and her heart leapt out of her chest at the sight. the girl was the complete opposite of how jimin thought she would appear, and she couldn’t believe she fell for what aeri had said before. the clothes she wore leaned to the pink, feminine side–her tank top a cute combination of red, pink and yellow–and she wore a pearl necklace to accompany the soft vibe. the look was coupled with a pink cardigan over top, which was falling down to reveal one of her shoulders.

jimin was definitely gawking at her too long, because the girl cleared her throat in annoyance.

“what do you need?” the girl’s voice was also the complete opposite of her look, siding more with what jimin had thought y/n would be like originally. the deep, rough tones of it scratched her brain in a way she never imagined before, and she almost melted right there on the spot.

“oh yeah! i’m so sorry about that. my name is jimin, and i live on the floor below you, right under your room, which is actually pretty cool, huh.” jimin stuttered through her introduction, her face heating up at the intense staring contest y/n had her locked in.

she quickly averted her eyes, wanting to look anywhere else but the student's face, “anyways, it usually hasn’t been a problem but-”

the girl cut her off, rolling her eyes at the long winded explanation. “i get it, you want us to lower the volume of the music, right?” she drawled, and her tone grated against the headache jimin had, further enhancing it.

jimin nodded her head rapidly.

“well we can’t.” y/n started, lifting her hand up to take a look at her nails which were–once again a contrast to her voice–painted a mix of pink and yellow. “not that we can’t, just that we won’t.”

jimin cocked her head in confusion, “you… won’t?”

y/n stood there, still observing her fingers, “you heard me the first time, cutie,”

even though she was slightly infuriated, she felt her heart jump at the pet name, and warmth rushed up to her cheeks once again, but she quickly shook away the feeling, steeling her face in anger.

“what do you mean by ��you won’t’” jimin said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“exactly what it means, babe. we’re having fun, and if it’s really bothering you that much, you can leave the complex for a couple hours.” y/n finally looked away from her nails to stare up at jimin, giving her a smile, as if she was trying to soften the words.

“uh, no the fuck not.”

the girl’s eyes flashed with something jimin couldn't recognise, and y/n stood up straighter, a smirk playing on her lips at the words.

“so you stand your ground, huh?” y/n noted aloud, eyeing jimin from head to toe. “how about you come in here, and we can party together?”

“fuck you.” jimin said.

“that’s what i’m asking for,” the girl replied in a dull tone, rolling her eyes.

the girl was annoying her, and the constant flirty jokes weren’t helping jimin’s case either. she couldn’t tell if she wanted to feel flustered, angry, or perhaps a mix of both.

“i’m gonna get the RA on you. you’ll be kicked out of the dorms, or probably even the school considering the amount of weed i smell off of you right now.”

“you wanna talk to the RA about me?” y/n laughed loudly at the statement, covering her mouth with her hand, as she turned around to face the fog.

“hey, chaewon! come here,” y/n screamed over the music that was still playing, and she stood aside after a bit, letting chaewon pop her head through the door.

“meet the fifth floor’s RA!” the annoying girl cackled, doubling over at the look on jimin’s face.

the girl was wasted–jimin could tell by the dazed look in her eyes, and how she had to lean against y/n to stabilise herself.

“don’t tell anyone i’m here.” chaewon slurred, and hiccupped, slowly raising her pointer finger to press it against jimin’s lips, but she missed, and ended up poking her in the eye. “or we’ll all end up in trouble.”

“shit!” jimin exclaimed, pressing a hand to her eye trying to soothe the pain.

y/n’s mouth curved into a smile, and jimin couldn’t tell if it was from her pain or chaewon’s actions. she lightly pushed chaewon back into the room while telling her to ease up on the drinks, and came back to face jimin straight on.

“see what I mean?” y/n said, shaking her head at jimin’s poor attempts, further belittling her.

jimin scrunched her forehead up in thought. she wasn’t going to accept defeat, and let this go–that wasn’t who she was–and she didn’t want to see y/n’s stupid hot smirk again anyways.

“if you lower the volume of your music, and keep it there” she gulped, “i’ll do anything that you want me to.”

“really?” y/n eyes widened, “if so-”

“nothing sexual, of course.” jimin cut her off before she had the chance.

y/n giggled in response, “well then.”

[angheling]

Small spread of an au where kdj feeds alt!1863 yjh to the Fourth Wall in order to fulfill the outer god covenant, unknowingly turning him into a librarian in the process

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

hi!! just read that absolute masterpiece response you had to the anon asking about Xaden and Violet at the end of OS!! I almost want to save that post purely to check back when we finally get the fourth and fifth books to see how much you correctly predict!

also (not to request another essay, so feel free to ignore this if you don't want to) are there any other parallels you've seen with RY's other writing? I've seen parallel relationships (Tairn/Sgaeyl mirroring Violet/Xaden), but any other common themes/tropes that Yarros loves that you think could make it into books 4&5?

like i said, feel free to ignore if you don't want to reply!!

Oh thank you so much!! I've been wanting to make a post like this for agessssss so this is a perfect opportunity!! I love writing essays so don't even worry, LMFAO, anyone can request an essay at any time!!

The only way for me to do this is to spoil a significant amount of her contemporary romance b-plots, so I'm gonna put the theories ABOVE the cut, and then you can click see-more if you want the essay with the parallels. I will say, her b-plots are always kind of insane, and I think the spoilers don't detract from the love stories themselves. So unless you're hellbent on going in blind, I think it's fine? You'll still get the love stories.

Dain's dying for Xaden in book 4! This theory has spoilers from the Flight and Glory series (specifically books 1, 2, and 4, although the only one I'm really spoiling anything you can't gleam from the back cover is book 4)

This isn't a theory, this is just some spaghetti I'm throwing at the wall, but! Lilith wrote the book on Unnbriel that Papa Sorrengail saved for Vi in Deverelli. This one has spoilers from The Things We leave Unfinished.

Theory One: Dain's dying for Xaden in book 4.

Some housekeeping: Rebecca's Flight and Glory series is 5 interconnected standalones (meaning each book deals with a different couple in the same world. it would be like if FW was x and v, but IF was Immrick and OS was dain/sloane). Book one, Full Measures, is about Josh and Ember. Book Two, Eyes Turned Skyward, is about Paisely and Jagger (yes, terrible names, just hold my hand). The book 3 couple is irrelevant for my current purposes, but book 4, Hallowed Ground, comes back around to Josh and Ember as the "main couple". The couples are all part of one big friend group and together all the time. To be SO frank, Josh and Jagger feel like they each got half of Xaden's personality, and Ember and Paisley feel the same way when it comes to Violet. (Josh has the reformed bad boy thing going on, secrets, and the whole caretaker dom thing going on, while Jagger ALSO has the reformed bad boy thing, he's RICH, also has secrets, and the daddy and mommy issues 1-2 combo. They also both just talk like Xaden. I thought Jagger was a lot less Xaden-esque during the first 75% or so, and then there's a pivotal scene where he is so aggressively Xaden-coded I started jumping up and down. Ember's a history major mourning her dead father, while Paisley's a librarian mourning her dead sibling. Paisley also has a heart condition that's very debilitating for her, and results in her loved ones being seriously overbearing.)

Paisley and Jagger's story is the most important to my purposes here, so have a quick summary of the opening of Eyes Turned Skyward: The novel opens with Paisley in a relationship with Will. Will was Paisley's dead sister's best friend, and after her sister's death, Will and Paisley came together in their grief. Paisley's heart condition means that she has to seriously limit physical exertion, she wears an apple watch at all times to track her heart rate, and she can't live life like a "normal" person. A big part of this is that Will won't have sex with her because he's worried about her having a heart attack. No, I am not joking. @maethologies was the first recipient of this summary many moons ago, and she calls it the "my doctor said no sex" book. The pivotal thing here is that Paisley's doctor didn't ACTUALLY say no sex. Will's just being overprotective.

Does this remind anyone of anyone we know? Because Will's character reminds ME of one Dain Aetos!

Further Dain-isms: Jagger, Josh, and co. all hate Will because he went to West Point and is super cocky about it. Will is super devoted to the codex rules and regulations of flight school to the point he turns on his classmates (which you're not supposed to do! snitches get stitches!) for a traditional prank (also, fun fact, the commanding general of their flight school? Paisley's dad!). Throughout book 2, Will gets his karma for being overprotective with Paisley, and he slowly becomes less of a stick in the mud. He befriends Josh, Jagger, and co, and he's a reluctant member of the gang in book 3. Again, do y'all see what I see???

Now, a summary of the grander plot of Hallowed Ground: Book 3 (Beyond What Is Given) ends with Josh, Jagger, Will, and their fourth friend Grayson, graduating flight school and getting their duty stations. Josh, Jagger, and Will all stay together, and Josh and Jagger get deployed first. Will stays home and takes care of Paisley and Ember. At the end of Beyond What Is Given, Paisley and Jagger getting engaged and married just before Jagger gets deployed. Six weeks later, Will gets deployed and follows Jagger and Josh into Afghanistan. During his opening flight (like, LITERALLY his first day) Josh and Will are in one helicopter while Jagger's actively in combat. They realize Jagger's in danger, so they go to him and join the fight. They all get shot down by the Taliban, and Will ends up jumping in front of Jagger and saying that his wife needs him. Will dies FOR Jagger and asks him to keep taking care of Paisley.

(The one thing I'm NOT mentioning there is that when Will does sacrifice himself for Jagger, Paisley's pregnant. I am NOT manifesting that for Violet.) (They actually name their kid after Will, which is kind of insane with the Dain implications. Dain Riorson-Sorrengail.)

Ever since I finished Hallowed Ground (so, July!) I've been convinced the final culmination of Dain's redemption arc was going to be dying for Xaden on Violet's behalf. I actually totally thought it was going to be in book 3 and not book 4, because it seemed like Rebecca thought Dain was redeemed even though the majority of fans disagreed. I've been a bit tongue-in-cheek about how much fan-interaction happened in Onyx Storm, but I definitely think the changes to Dain and Cat's characters especially were a result of Rebecca seeing how they were received by the readers and making corrections to their portrayal so that we see what she sees. Still, the parallels with Will are abundant. In his case, we meet him in book 2, but we immediately do not like him. He gets redeemed toward the end of book 2 and into book 3. By the time book 4 comes around, you're a fan! He's on the cusp of a new relationship with Paisley's best friend Morgan, and then....dead. Again....are we seeing the parallels here?

So, yeah! That's my take. Again, I actually thought this was happening in book 3, but I see why it didn't. I have NEVER enjoyed Dain as much as I did in Onyx Storm. Like, I feel bad about characterizing him how I usually do now. His death in OS would not have been impactful, whereas in book 4....

If you don't quite believe me about plot recycling from RY, the main romance plot line of Josh and Ember's first book Full Measures: falling in love -> she Knows he's keeping secrets (in this case, about his "occupation" as well as his past with her parent, but the secrets plotline is genuinely ALMOST every single book she's ever written, I am not joking, I CAN keep going) but she doesn't know enough to do anything about it except keep getting conned -> she learns enough! third act break up -> Iron Flame esque argument about secrets/asking questions/etc. -> make up!

And this isn't a critique from me: I've read sixteen of her books for a reason. There's something comforting in knowing exactly what you're going to get; however, I know exactly what I'm going to get.

THAT is the end of my more fleshed out theory. Now, Lilith time!

Theory 2: Lilith wrote Papa Sorrengail's book about Unnbriel:

I've been slowly re-reading (and highlighting and tabbing) Onyx Storm over the last few days, and yesterday, I read this line:

"My father's observations on the combative isle are sharp, almost clinical, but lack his usual insight. There's a marked difference between his book, written when he was 23 and straight out of the scribe quadrant, and the manuscript he left for me in his office." (Onyx Storm, chapter 28)

The epigraph for the chapter in question:

"There are times I look at Parapet, at the very act of Threshing, and marvel that dragons have not been to Unnbriel.... -Unnbriel: Isle of Dunne by Second Lieutenant Asher Daxton"

I said this in my other essay response, but Rebecca has two types of what I like to call "gotcha!" foreshadowing. Usually, she'll have a throwaway line somewhere that's REALLY easy to brush over, but it will either literally spell out a situation for later in the story, OR it exists to be proved false. I CAN grab examples, but this essay is already ridiculously long, so maybe another time if anyone doesn't believe me. In any case, I think this is the second type of foreshadowing. Rebecca goes out of her way to REPEATEDLY say dragons have not been to the isles, which really makes me think dragons have been to the isles.

Now, to compare and contrast with Rebecca's The Things We Leave Unfinished. I will say, this spoiler actually would impact your reading experience in that it's the big final reveal of the novel. However, a lot of you probably aren't going to read it anyway, so! I also actually think a LOT of Rebecca's works are better the second time around, and in this way the spoiler would make it more fun, as you better understand what's going on. So, you can take my word for it and stop here, OR you can keep reading.

A summary of the plot of The Things We Leave Unfinished:

The FMC of this novel's grandmother dies, leaving one unfinished novel she'd like finished after her death. This novel is the true love story of her grandmother's life. Through a deal with her agent, the MMC gets contacted to finish the novel for the FMCs grandmother. Half the book is the modern timeline of the FMC and MMC trying to finish the novel, and the other half is the historical timeline following the novel in question (book within a book!). As the novel progresses, you find out that the MMC keeps noting differences across Scarlet (the grandma's) body of work in terms of tone (sharpness!) and general story construction (insight!). (When I re-read that line about Vi's dad, I felt like someone walked over my grave.) Eventually, you learn that Scarlet actually died 70-odd years before the story begins, and that her sister is who the FMC thought was her grandma. Her grandma's sister is the one who finished her grandma's novel, then went on to write an entire body of work in her sister's name.

Now! Why would Lilith's work be in papa sorrengail's name? I don't actually know! Maybe since Dunne is an isle of warriors, he knew he needed His warrior to handle it for him. They're clearly obsessed with each other on a Riorgail level, and Xaden is immediately willing to fight on Vi's behalf on Unnbriel. I've said this offhandedly before, but the parallels between Lilith and Xaden are actually insane when you think about them. I also think this expands farther into the Dunne/Violet/Lilith/Theophanie nonsense I do NOT know enough to unpack right now. Anyway, I think that's it! I can try and pull the actual line from The Things We Leave Unfinished if anyone cares, because I'm pretty sure the phrasing is similar when the MMC figures out true authorship.

I said this above, but if anyone else has any other questions, feel free to ask!! I need to use my PhD in Yarrossian studies for something. I actually really wanted to compose a full list of my thoughts on her contemporaries/similarities/what I'd rec to the fourth wing girlies of the world, but I haven't gotten around to it yet. So if you're interested in that, let me know!

[iammissdistress]

Payneland Alive AU fic recs. Part 4

love, in context B24-16 by @experimentaldragonfire

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 18,843

There’s a boy leaning against the fence.

He’s putting most of his weight on it, arms propped up by their elbows and staring with rapt interest at the excavations. It’s been half an hour, now, and he hasn’t moved an inch.

If he hadn’t been otherwise preoccupied with delicately troweling between third-century cobblestones, Edwin might have worried about the boy’s mental state. As it was, he’d been studiously ignoring the way he can feel eyes tracking his every movement.

He thinks he’s been quite successful, so far.

or: archaeology student Edwin Payne didn't expect the chatty tourist at the excavation fence to become someone he couldn't imagine life without

my fourth favorite public building to visit by @lolotr

Rating: Explicit

Words: 18,803

Featuring children's librarians Edwin and Niko, mum and dad Charles and Crystal, excessive flirting, storytime, and enough queer tomfoolery to give your heart a bedazzled rainbow upgrade. Happy Pride.

(pretty equal part palasaki in there. also, you should definitely read the whole series)

Work It Harder, Make It Better by @dear-monday and @tw0-ravens

Rating: Explicit

Words: 15,132

Welcome to Paris, 2024, and the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad.

Meet Charles Rowland, twenty, beloved veteran skateboarder, fast approaching his expiry date, and determined to shag his way through as many gorgeous athletes as he can – and Edwin Payne, twenty-three, once-in-a-generation equestrian prodigy who can’t seem to stop saying the wrong thing and pissing off his teammates. Let the games begin!

to be alone, to be in love, to just be worth it by Ingi

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 11,968

"I remember you now, y'know," Charles says after a beat, his voice still full of that horrible flatness, so at odds with how he'd been laughing just a few minutes ago. "Edwin Payne, yeah? Everyone was talking about you in November. That's why you huddle up here with your tea and your board games, innit? I would, too. I s'pose I am." He glances around the attic, Edwin's pathetic little escape, with more understanding than judgement, before his eyes snap back to meet Edwin's. "Why are you helping me? Why are you being all nice?"

"I don't understand," says Edwin, slowly. "What else could I possibly do?"

as the wind changed direction by @williamvapespeare

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 2,802

But all Edwin says is, “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

He holds a hand out between them, palm up, in offering so gentle and so very Edwin that Charles almost wants to punch the wall again in disbelief.

Edwin is so good, so truly and deeply kind, and all he seems to do is reach out when Charles is drowning. Charles, who is angry and rough and bruised to his very core. He’s not sure he has ever deserved the hesitant tenderness in each one of Edwin’s touches. He takes the hand all the same.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his girl

ch. 1 - TLoU AU

Frankie Morales meets the love of his life and starts creating a new life for himself, her and his little daughter. But things are about to change in ways no one could've imagined with the outbreak of the cordyceps infection.

Series Master List

The idea of putting the guys from Triple Frontier in to The Last of Us was a random thought I had a few weeks ago. I really wanted to explore what Frankie Morales would do, who he would turn into, if he had to experience the outbreak, fighting to protect himself and those he loves in a whole new way.

I'm having so much fun writing it and I really hope you'll enjoy reading it! The first hints of TLoU pops up in chapter 9.

No age gap, our reader and Frankie are the same age, no use of Y/N, no physical descriptions.

Edit: Making this easier to navigate - Chapter 2

Frankie’s at the corner of the bar, his back to the wall, as she walks in. The boys, Pope, Ben and Will, are arguing about some finer point of something or other, he’s not really paying attention anymore, so he’s the only one who notices her. A bachelorette party tumbles through the door first, the bride to be wearing a tall plastic tiara on her head, and her friends trailing behind, all wearing Friends themed t-shirts that say “The one where Lizzy marries Steve”, cackling loudly and making “wooohoooo” noises. The boys immediately turn and check out the girls but one look at how far gone they all are, this is probably the only bar in town that will still serve them at this level of intoxication, they turn back to their conversation. 

She’s trailing behind her friends, coming in after the others and just about hiding the t-shirt under her jean jacket, looking a lot more sober than the rest of the hen party.

Frankie can’t help but stare, the way the black jeans are hugging her curves makes his heart rate pick up, but when she pushes her hand through her hair and smiles at her friends it feels like it stops in his chest, pausing a second before racing again. He swallows, tugging at his cap, pulling it down deeper over his eyes as he tries to look without staring. She glances around the room as her friends occupy one of the large booths next to the jukebox and start a giggling argument about what songs to play first. Somehow her eyes catch his and he feels heat creeping up his throat as he quickly looks away, down at his drink, over at Pope, anywhere but at her.

…

Against your will you’ve been talked into ending your friend’s bachelorette party at a local dive bar in a part of town you and your friends usually don’t hang out in. Your usual hang out had refused to serve your friends, seeing as they certainly were about four tequila shots too far gone, and you’d been ready to call it a night then. Bachelorette parties weren’t even really your thing but as Lizzy was the last of your friends to marry, apart from yourself, you couldn’t really back out when she begged you to come. So after failing to get into three clubs, Lizzy had bribed the bouncer to tell her of a bar that would let them in and he’d told them to try The Outback Bar across town. 

So here you are, pushing open the door to a place that was decorated to look like something out of a Crocodile Dundee set while your friends squealed over the stuffed plush kangaroo by the jukebox. The bar is half empty, mainly regulars scattered around the place, some playing pool at the back. This neighborhood isn’t exactly the best so you scan the place for any potential troublemakers but one of the booths is filled with three middle aged ladies sipping on some sort of cocktails and it makes you feel a bit more calm. How bad could a place be if a group looking like local high school librarians were drinking at it? 

At the bar you spot four guys involved in an animated conversation. Well, three of them are, the fourth one is looking at your but ducks his head the second you catch his eye, his hand shooting up to rub his neck under a mop of dark curls that stick out under his cap. His eyes are shaded but you can make out his curved nose and nervous smile as he glances over at his friends, still rubbing his neck before his hand slides down and rubs his patchy beard instead. He quickly shoots a glance your way and you feel like you’ve been burnt when your eyes meet just for a second, his face softens into a quick smile before he drops his gaze again. Before you can help yourself you smile back and you hope he saw it before he looked away. Smiling at random men in bars was dangerous business but this man had such a sweet, soft smile that he’d pulled a smile in return from you before you’d even realised what was happening. 

Your friends call you over to the booth and then order you to the bar for a pitcher of beer and tequila shots, deciding you’re the only one sober enough to order for the table. You shake your head and laugh at their loud demands for more liquor but you decide a pitcher of beer won’t do much damage this late in the game anyway. 

The bartender is busy serving another patron so you lean on the counter and try to sneak looks at the man at the other end. The bar is a big rectangular shape, wrapping around the open shelving system in the middle and it lets you peek through the opening towards the four friends at the opposite corner. Two of them are blonde and blue eyed, similar enough looking to be brothers, and both conventionally handsome, you know your friends would be all over them. The third man has shorter dark hair and even at this distance you can see the grey around his temples. He’s handsome and something about him tells you he’s probably very aware of how good he looks. He’s waving his hands around, trying to make some animated point to the blonde guys, as they both laugh and shake their heads. 

The fourth man, the one with the cap, seems to be listening with only half an ear as he tilts the liquid in his glass around the rim. Out of the corner of your eye you try to get a closer look at him. His hair is curling around his ears as well as around his neck, and as he smiles at something his friend says you see a dimple in his cheek, his eyes crinkling at the corners as the smile all but transforms his face into something warm and soft. He’s got a scruffy looking beard over his jaw and chin but a thicker moustache that seems to be trimmed just above his top lip. The cap that’s pulled down securely on his head is well worn and beaten and it seems to be a permanent fixture on his head the way he tugs on it every now and then. You can’t help but wonder if he’s hiding a bald patch under there but his dark curls are thick even when he swipes the cap off his head, smooths them down and pulls it on again. 

As Frankie tugs again on his cap he looks over the bar towards the booth the bachelorette party has occupied but he can’t see her. Quickly he scans the bar and feels heat shoot through him as he meets her eyes through the bottles and shelves. This time he doesn’t duck his head straight away, her eyes hold on to him as she gives him a smile before dropping her own gaze to the drinks menu in her hand, still smiling. He keeps watching her, unable to pull his eyes away, and when she lifts her eyes towards him again he feels his lips pull up in a smile that he can’t even seem to control. This woman is gorgeous and she’s looking at him with a smile so sweet he’s losing his breath. Before he knows what he’s doing he lifts his hand from his glass and gives her a quick wave. 

The movement draws Pope’s attention and he’s immediately looking over Frankie’s shoulder, trying to see who his friend is waving at. Catching sight of her Pope exclaims; 

“Damn, Frankie, she’s cute, go talk to her, man!” 

“Shut the fuck up, Pope, dammit.” Frankie sighs as he sees her look away. The bartender has come to take her order and she starts talking to him. 

“I’m serious, Fish, she’s into you, go talk to her, get her number. If you don’t I wi..ll.” Pope makes a show of standing up from the stool and Frankie grabs his shoulder and pulls him down again while Pope laughs at his friend’s awkward glance back at the woman. Ben and Will have also turned, craning their necks to see what the fuss is about and Ben gives a low whistle as he sees her leaning on the bar. 

“Pope’s right, Fish, go talk to her, she’s hot!” 

“Na, na, I changed my mind,” Pope laughs, slapping Frankie’s shoulder. “Frankie here will run headlong into enemy territory with his balls out, but what he doesn’t have the guts for, is to talk to someone like her.” 

“Just shut up, Pope, seriously,” Frankie grumbles as he downs the last of his drink and pushes it across the counter. 

“I’ll bet anything you don’t have the cojones to go over there and get her number, buddy.” Pope grins, enjoying riling his friend up as a red flush creeps up over his throat. 

Frankie glances over at her again, she’s waiting on her order at the bar. As he looks her eyes flick to him again and when she meets his gaze she stays locked on him for a second before she looks down at the counter, a shy smile creeping across her face. No doubt she noticed how all of them now seem to be focused on her. 

“Ok, Pope, what’ll it be, what do I get if I get her number?” 

“A hundred bucks, I’ll give you a hundred bucks because that’s how certain I am that you don’t have the balls to ask for her number.”

“You’re on.” Frankie says as he slides off the stool, “You’re gonna pay for my first date with her.” 

...

You can tell you’re suddenly the topic of conversation among the friends on the corner and heat is creeping up your cheeks as you feel four pairs of eyes on you. You glance over again, looking for the man with the cap and when your eyes meet him you can’t help but smile again. 

The bartender brings you the pitcher of beer you ordered, no tequila shots, and two baskets of fries. You pay and start grabbing the order and throw a quick glance over at the corner again but this time the man with the cap isn’t there. 

“Hi, sorry, do you maybe wanna hand with that?” 

You suddenly hear a low voice behind you and you turn to see the man with the cap standing in front of you, a shy smile on his face, his hands stuck deep in his jeans pockets. 

“Yeah, sure, that would be great, thanks,” you return his shy smile as he grabs the pitcher and the tower of glasses from you. You take the fries and lead the two of you over to your friends’ booth. They all cheer as you arrive, immediately grabbing the food and drinks. You turn back to the bar, two large jugs of water are waiting for you on the counter and the man follows you back. 

“Thanks for that” you smile at him and he gives you another shy one back. 

“I’m Frankie, Francisco Morales,” he says, his hand seemingly by its own accord shooting up to rub the back of his neck while you give him your name. His smile widens as you lean on the bar counter, not grabbing the water straight away and he mirrors your action, putting his arm on the counter and standing close enough for you to smell his body wash and the warm cotton of his t-shirt that’s stretched tight across his broad shoulders. The dimple is back and you notice how he’s got small bald patches in his scruffy beard that’s dappled with grey in places. 

“So, bachelorette party, huh?” he asks and nods his head towards your friends who are now toasting in beer and howling along to “I want it that way” by The Backstreet Boys on the jukebox.  

“Yeah, I’m the designated “get them all home in one piece” person tonight,” you sigh with a crooked smile at them. “They are a bit too wasted to still be drinking but you know…” you shrug your shoulders and give Frankie a grin, “been there, done that too.” 

“Got the t-shirt,” he smirks, lifting the edge of your jean jacket with his finger tips to show off the “The one where Lizzy marries Steve” t-shirt you’re sporting under it. 

“To add to my collection,” you reply, laughing as you look down at the print. “I think this is the 8th one. Lizzy is the last one to be married. The couple from the first one has already gotten divorced and remarried so we’re getting through them.” 

“Any of them yours?” Frankie asks and you notice how he’s frowning his forehead, his brow knotting as he looks at you as if he’s nervous for the answer. 

“No, none of them mine,” you can’t help but smile, his face is adorable as his expression drops into a shy smile. His dark brown eyes are very expressive, crinkling again at the corners as he steps a little bit closer to you, giving the busboy room to collect the glasses from the bar behind him. The music from the jukebox suddenly turns off as the softer lights of the bar are replaced by harsher bright lights. 

“Closing time!” the bartender calls from behind the bar as your friends boo and jeer, sinking the last of their beers. “I’m taking these fries to go!” you hear Lizzy slur and you cringe inwardly as Frankie glances over at them. 

“So, seeing as I’m running out of time,” Frankie begins, still standing close enough for you to feel the heat coming off of him, “I wanna ask for your number, maybe?”

“You’ve got to earn that privilege, Frankie,” you look up at him. “I don’t usually give my number out to guys I’ve just met at random bars on Saturday nights.” 

“Yeah, no, I get that, probably a smart strategy too,” he falters. “I would’ve bought you a drink first and maybe we could’ve talked a bit more but you know, I didn’t want to not ask anyway.” He scratches at his beard absentmindedly and shoots a quick glance over his shoulder at his friends who are all eagerly still watching the conversation. “Maybe we can catch up here sometime, do you ever come by this place?” he asks. 

“This is my first time here, it’s really on the wrong side of town for me,” you admit, starting to regret not giving him your number but old habits are hard to shake, not giving out your number to random guys being one of them. 

“Oh, ok, I get it.” Frankie looks down and scuffs the toe of his boot on the bar’s skirting board before looking over at his friends again. “I should just go then, get them home too.” 

He starts to move away as you see his dark haired friend make a gesture as if he’s rubbing imaginary money between his thumb and fingers while smiling at the two blonde guys. 

“Did your friend make a bet with you about getting my number?” you ask him, suddenly putting two and two together. 

“Yeah, kinda, it wasn’t serious or anything, he was just, just, kinda pushing me to work up the nerve to come over and talk to you.” Frankie stutters slightly and your heart contracts as his hand shoots up to rub the back of his neck again, his dark curls becoming ever more unruly with each pass of his hand across them. 

You suddenly feel arms wrap around you from behind and a wave of perfume and tequila washes over you. Lizzy is giggling in your ear, tugging you away from Frankie. “Sorry, lover boy,” she squeals, “She’s mine tonight!” 

You shoot Frankie an apologetic look as Lizzy pulls you over to the booth where the exasperated bartender is trying to convince your friends that it’s time to leave. Frankie gives you a small wave before stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning back to his friends. You turn to the tasks of gathering your friends together and calling for an Uber to get you all home safe.  

...

As you leave the bar with the bachelorette party, getting them out the door is like herding cats, you spot Frankie and his friends making their way across the parking lot. Frankie’s got his back to you but you can still make him out, his unruly curls sticking out from under his cap, backlit by the flood lights in the lot. A smile suddenly creeps across your face and you call out to him. 

“Frankie, wait up!” 

He turns as you make your way towards him, and his friends all turn too, immediately breaking out in wide grins. The dark haired one gives Frankie a quick shove as to motion him towards you and Frankie picks up his feet. You meet him halfway across the lot. 

“Give me your phone,” you say and hold out your hand towards him. 

“Why?” he says with a confused look, but he still fumbles in his back pocket to pull out an old iPhone with a cracked screen. 

“Let me win that bet for you,” you grin as he taps in the pass code and hands you the phone. 

Frankie’s confused look changes into a wide grin as you add yourself as a new contact in his phone and hit “save” before handing it back to him. 

“Make sure your friend pays up what he owes you now,” you smile before turning back to your friends who are yelling at you to hurry the fuck up as the Uber you ordered pulls up to the curb.

As you walk back across the lot you suddenly hear Frankie’s fast footsteps approaching from behind. Turning back towards him you stop as he puts his hand on your arm, his calloused fingers are dry and warm against your bare skin, his grip gentle, just resting against you. 

“Does that mean I can call you too?” he asks, his dark eyes barely visible under his cap, but you can see the shyness from before returning. 

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” you smile before reaching up and pressing your lips to the bare patch in his beard, giving him a quick kiss. Behind him you can hear his friends whoop loudly and cheer, someone yells, “Go, Fish!” and when you pull back from Frankie a blush is creeping up his throat, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he grins. You smile again and pull away from him, letting his hand slip down along your arm before his hand gives your fingers a small squeeze and lets you go. Turning back to your friends, who are still yelling at you to get a move on, you hide an even bigger smile. As you quickly make your way over to the waiting Uber you feel butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach. The light scratch of Frankie’s beard still on your lips and his warm hand imprinted on your arm. 

…

Later that night, or early morning more like, your phone pings as you're brushing your teeth, getting ready for bed. It’s a number that’s not saved in your phone but as you pick it up you have a good feeling about who it might be from. 

“hope i didnt wake you. just wanted to give you my number too so you didnt think i wasnt serious and only did it for the bet. sleep well.”

As you read the message your phone pings again and you tap to the new message.

“sorry, it’s frankie, i forgot to say”

You can practically hear his voice through the message, see his frown as he curses himself for forgetting to sign off with his name in the first message and it makes you smile, thinking of how his brow had knitted together as he first talked to you in the bar, that soft, shy look under the peak of his cap.  

Quickly you save his number as a new contact in your phone and reply to him. 

“Hi Frankie, you didn’t wake me, I’m still up :) Thanks for your number. Did your friend pay up?”

You finish brushing your teeth as you watch the three dots move, indicating that Frankie is typing a reply.

“ye he did, although he’s not convinced you didn’t give me a fake number so i guess i have to show him this to prove it.” 

You smile to yourself as you type, moving towards your bed. 

“I guess I have to keep it clean then.”

Frankie’s reply comes quickly this time. 

“that line alone is going to get me into trouble…” 

You giggle to yourself as you tuck yourself in, holding your phone up as Frankie keeps typing. 

“so i have all my winnings to spend and its only fair that I share them with you. can I maybe take you out someday?” 

“I’d like that, call me tomorrow and we can maybe work something out?”

Frankie’s reply is almost instant. 

“i will, sleep well, hermosa”

“Hermosa?”

“beautiful“

“You’re making me blush… Sleep well, Frankie”

You feel yourself grinning like a fool as you put your phone on your bedside table and close your eyes. Trying to not let your mind run away with you, you squash down an excited little squeal as you burrow yourself into the pillow.

[saetgvia]

i like you a latte!

inspired by the very cold weather we're having here and my desire to curl up in an armchair with a good book and a hot chocolate.

barista!gaming x fem!reader, university au

✧ genre: it's supposed to be fluff. is it? let's see!!

✧ word count: 2.5k+ lol haha!!

✧ triggers: uh i say hell once (twice now), drinking mentioned once

✧ songs: espresso - sabrina carpenter, forever only - jaehyun

a/n: ok i know everyone's waiting for a spark update but LIKE COME ON IT'S WINTER i have to write this and how PERFECT is gaming for this like !!! also i made gaming taller than he is lol like 5'3?? no dude i need reader to be shorter than gaming

a/n after i've finished writing: did i say drabble? i lied.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

i. exam special

'Oh no. I'm so screwed.'

'You'll be FINE, dude. You've got this!'

You slump into your chair, a half-sigh, half-scream escaping from you and earning you more than a few confused looks from the people sitting in the library with you. The librarian sends you her fifth glare of the hour, and strides over, her heels clacking angrily on the tiled floor.

'You two. OUT!'

You look at your best friend, Kaveh, and you both stifle your laughs as you shove your stuff haphazardly into your backpacks and book it, chuckles slipping through as you step into the cold winter morning.

'How is it this cold?' Kaveh groans, frantically rubbing his arms trying to warm up. 'Come on Teyvat Uni, take it easy on us! We're literally feeding you money!'

You give him a deadpan gaze before snatching his phone out of his hand where it dangles precariously and jogging past him towards one of the buildings.

'This ought to warm you up!' you yell as you run down the steps into the campus quadrangle. The quadrangle is your favourite place in the entirety of TNU, not exactly a quadrangle but lined on three sides with on-campus cafes and stores and opened up on the fourth side to a rolling green lawn known affectionately as 'the lawn.' You know where you're going, but so does Kaveh, and he's faster than you, so you wind up at the door to your favourite cafe a few seconds behind your best friend, panting, as he plucks the phone from your hands with a grin. You roll your eyes, and step inside, groaning out a half coherent 'I need coffee,' before smiling at the barista at the counter.

'Alhaitham! Hey!'

The melodious tinkling of the door chimes has died down by now, and as you breathe in, you can't help but sigh contentedly at the delicious scent of coffee and chocolate, laced with cinnamon, that wafts into your nose.

'You'll take your usual I presume?' Alhaitham asks, wiping his hands on a checkered towel.

'Nope. The exam special please.' You answer as you slump into one of the bar stools sitting in front of the polished wooden counter. You've always liked how pretty the cafe is. Aptly named Oasis, the cafe oozes cozy from every corner. Its walls are toasty oak, hanging with art bought from vintage stores and donated by grateful students. Plants overflow from each corner, a bright splash of green, and warm lights hang from the ceiling above tables and the counter. They're on even during the day, the sunlight spilling from the windows dull and murky. As Alhaitham, the owner of the cafe, turns away to make the highly caffeinated drink, your eyes fall on an unfamiliar face wiping down a table near you. A brown-mahogany head, bopping along and humming softly to Sabrina Carpenter's Espresso that was playing through the speakers. As he straightened up, you could see his red shirt and grey pants hidden by a white apron with Oasis stitched into the corner in pretty green thread. His face is youthful, glowing with happiness even when there is only the hint of a smile on his face. There's something about him, his aura, that draws you in like a moth to a flame.

'Must be new,' you whisper to Kaveh, who nods, setting up with his notes and graphics calculator, eyes already glazed by calculus.

Alhaitham returns with your two exam specials, and you nudge Kaveh, who looks up and takes his drink.

'Cheers!'

'You know it's coffee, right? Why-'

'Just do it.'

Kaveh sighs before clinking his cup with your own and taking a sip before immediately hashashahshafaing and fanning his mouth because it was too hot.

'Al! Why did you make it so hot? You never make it this hot!'

You and Alhaitham are snickering at your friend's misfortune, and Alhaitham says, still laughing, 'It's freezing outside. It makes sense to make it this hot.'

Kaveh rolls his eyes, before leaning back over the counter with sparkling eyes and a knowing look in your direction. Throughout your chat, you'd been sneaking glances at the handsome barista. You'd thought Kaveh was too caught up in his work to pay attention, but apparently he's had his eyes on you the whole time.

'Who's that? Kaveh asks, gesturing towards the boy.

'Oh that? That's Gaming, my new hire.'

'WHAT? And you rejected my application?'

'Kaveh, we all know you'd set the kitchen on fire if you tried to cook,' you butt in.

'Exactly. And when a culinary major comes knocking, you don't turn them down, especially when you run a cafe!'

'A culinary major? Oh this is great! You've always wanted a guy who can cook!' Kaveh says a little too enthusiastically. Gaming, ears perking at the sound of his major, looks up from where he's fixing up some cushions and catches your eye. You wave, a little awkwardly, and he grins and waves back, his warm brown eyes friendly.

'Hi Gaming! Can I get your number?' Kaveh calls over your shoulder.

The coffee must be kicking in, you think, rolling your eyes inwardly.

'Ignore Kaveh, you don't have to'

'Oh no, it's alright, I'd love to! I'm always looking for new friends if that's okay with you?'

'Y-yeah. Give me your number?'

'HeY-' Alhaitham's hand shoots out to cover Kaveh's mouth, smiling pleasantly. 'Continue.'

You exchange numbers, and Gaming holds out his hand for you to shake.

'Hi, I'm Gaming. It's nice to meet you!'

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

ii. oh no... finals

Ding!

You jolt out of your stupor to a message on your phone. You're studying for your visual effects final (yes, you're surprised it has an exam too!) and you've been staring at the problem set for at least five minutes now, too tired to go on. Your room is a mess, bedsheets rumpled, clothes hanging off your chair and slippers cast over the floor without a second thought. In the background, you hear the faint hum of Kaveh singing 'Forever Only' by Jaehyun, and you then hear the much louder ding of your phone going off with another message.

gaming: hey, u free?

you: no unfortunately

you: buried in mountains of exam revision

gaming: oh dude same! i was just gonna head to the library for a change of scenery

gaming: come with?

You think about it for a second.

you: yeah sure

you: not like i'm getting anything done here anyways

gaming: you live with kaveh, right? i'll come pick you up!

you: ...how do yk where i live...

you: this some stalker biz right here

gaming: NO omg i've been talking to kaveh too he told 😭

you: LOL okay

gaming: see you in 10?

you: see you in 10!

You stare at your problem set some more, before realising you should probably get ready to go to the library. You unceremoniously dump your things into a tote (it's your favourite bag; it has cute woodland animals eating dessert on it and you fell in love with it the first time you saw it hanging in the store) before changing out of your hoodie and trackpants into... a hoodie and jeans.

It's only a day at the library, you think, as you slip on your sneakers and check the time. 9:10AM it reads. Gaming should be here soon. Right on cue, your phone dings with a message from Gaming.

gaming: i'm here!

You hurry down the stairs, exit your apartment building to see a sleek black car with a familiar boy leaning against it. He has on a black hoodie and some grey cargos, this time with red and gold detailing down the side.

'Hey!' Gaming calls, waving excitedly.

'Hey!' you reply, hurrying over.

Gaming is surprised. He'd found you pretty at the cafe, in your pleated skirt and white top. But he finds you even prettier now, your hair escaping your ponytail and your hoodie sliding a little too far to the left.

'Gaming?' You wave your hand in front of his face, snapping him from his trance. He opens the passenger side door for you, exaggerating his movements as he bows you in, then jogs to the other side to get into his own.

Cute, you think, then scrunch up your face in confusion.

'You good there? VFX work getting to you again?'

You look at him again.

'How-'

'Kaveh.'

'Oh.'

You spend the drive to the library in comfortable silence, enjoying the music playing on the radio, and when you pull up to the building, you sigh reluctantly, having to get out of the toasty warmth of the car. As soon as you step outside, you shiver, and notice Gaming shivering alongside you.

'Oh god let's get into the library.'

Finally inside the library, you and Gaming grab a table as quickly as possible and pull out your laptops. You bring out your mouse to get some work done on your problem sets and Gaming brings out his pencil, scribbling away busily at something. You're glad that he doesn't try to converse with you. Not because you don't want to talk to him, but because you really need to do your work. A couple hours later, you speak.

'When's your first final?'

Gaming looks up, and answers you quietly.

'Next Wednesday, it's my practical.'

'Cooking, huh.'

'Yeah. You?'

'TOMORROW,' you groan. 'I really really need to get these done. But I'm so TIRED!'

Gaming looks thoughtful for a second, before springing up from his chair.

'Be back in a few okay? Stay here.'

You watch his quickly retreating figure, confused, but shrug it off to continue work.

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

Gaming comes back in, holding two coffee cups. You've finished your problem set, and you're now stretching before starting on the worksheets for Calculus which you begrudgingly agreed to take with Kaveh. He sets one of the cups down in front of you, the amazing smell of coffee emanating from them.

'Caramel exam special!'

'What? How'd you know I like caramel?'

'Lucky guess.'

No it wasn't. He'd asked Alhaitham for your orders that weren't exam specials. He watched you take a sip, your face taken over by delight.

'This is so good. What the hell?'

Gaming lets out a sigh of relief, glad you liked it. You sipped it, then sipped it again, then kept drinking until it was gone.

'Ohhhh my god. I need like a million of these every day.'

'Here, have this one! You look like you need it more than I do.'

'Gee thanks,' you scoff playfully, taking the drink. 'You sure?'

'Yeah, go ahead!'

He needs the coffee too, but he'd gladly give it to you if that's what you wanted.

You and Gaming study together for another hour, and by 1PM, you're hungry and done with your VFX and calculus.

'Gaming, wanna grab lunch?'

'Yeah let's go, I'm feeling burgers.'

You grin. 'Hey, you read my mind!'

You get up, quickly sliding your laptop and worksheets into your tote and pushing your chair in, under the table. Gaming smiles, and you stop breathing for a moment. Eyes disappearing into crescents, his whole face aglow with happiness. His teeth peek out from beneath his lips and you feel a sudden, unexplainable urge to hold his hand. You shake it off when you notice him looking at you strangely, and pull out your phone.

'Takeout?'

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

Gaming's gone now, and it's about 8PM. The time flew by so fast, you both spending all day laughing and eating and... actually getting work done. You hadn't talked to Kaveh all day, and he slouches into your room, a pout on his face.

'Heeeeeeeeeey! How could you ignore me for Gaming all day? I'm your best friend!'

'Well, Gaming actually helped me study.'

He helped you a little too well, actually. So well it was distracting. You still remember his warm hand brushing yours, his breath on your neck as he leaned over you and helped with some problem you had. This is crazy, you think. I met him two days ago. Two! I can't do this!

But somehow, you already are. You're developing quite the crush.

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

iii. i think i love you

One year later...

You and Gaming have been friends for a year now. Best friends, actually, but nobody can really replace Kaveh. Gaming's grown to be more than a friend to you, and you've spent many a night giggling with Kaveh after you've had a little too much to drink. Kaveh is all for it, of course, and much to your dislike, keeps sending you very obvious winks and knowing glances. But anyways, you're meeting Gaming again, and you're dressed up very nicely in a white skirt and pink top, matching the cherry blossoms that are blooming down your street and throughout all of TNU.

'I'll see you in a bit Kaveh!'

You step out of your apartment building only to see Gaming waiting for you. He's fiddling with his fingers and he looks... quite nervous.

'Hey Gaming. You okay?'

You took his breath away. This year he's spent with you has been one of the best of his life, and every day he sees you, he falls deeper and deeper in love. So he's decided to take the chance, and let you know. He's always told himself to be honest, and he's not going to hide something from someone he cares about so much.

'Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go?'

You smile at him.

'Yeah.'

You get in his car, and drive down the lane lined with beautiful sakura. You're so busy looking at the flowers, but Gaming's looking at you. And the road. But also you. So when you stop at a beautiful park, pretty pink blooms mixed with pure white ones, it's safe to say you're enthralled. And Gaming's enthralled by you. He takes your hand, albeit nervously, and your cheeks flush as you softly intertwine your hands with his. His hands are warm, and yours slots into his so perfectly that you can't help but wonder if this is how it should be.

You're sitting under a gazebo, bright white with gold details climbing up the sides and quaint wooden benches for people to sit on. This is where you and Gaming are sitting, laughing your heads off at one of Gaming's kitchen stories. He's brought lunch, sandwiches that are delicious and dessert that's heavenly. Being friends with a culinary major certainly has its perks.

Friends. The word sits heavy in your heart.

Gaming breathes deeply. He's going to tell you. He's going to tell you. But first, the lake.

It's amazing, the lake. Smooth as a mirror, rippled only by ducks and their sweet little ducklings happily bobbing their way across the water.

'Wow...' you let out softly. The trees are framing the lake in shades of blush and pearl, and you think it might be the most beautiful thing you've seen in your life. Gaming thinks it's nice, sure, but in his eyes, you're the only thing he sees. And he has to tell you.

'Hey...'

'Hmm?'

'I like you.'

You blink. And then blink again.

'Come again?'

Gaming almost chickens out, but steels himself and says it again.

'I like you.'

You smile and then grin from ear to ear.

'What? Really?'

'Yeah.'

Gaming doesn't know what to make of your reaction... but from the way you're smiling, it seems... good?

'Um?'

'I like you too.'

This time, Gaming's the shocked one.

'What?'

'I like you too, doofus.

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from saetgvia: lol i think this is cringe this is like my first full romance fic and idk man... any feedback you have is greatly appreciated!

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please like and reblog my work! tumblr relies on reblogs to function, so help my work be seen by more people <3 my taglist is now open, drop an ask if you want to be added!

© saetgvia 2024. do not copy or repost.

[intothestacks]

Adventures in Librarian-ing

Today when I was getting home from work (which is two blocks away from where I live) three of my students were hanging out outside the apartment complex I live at and they were like

"MISS FLECHA????!!!!"

And they got into that chatty mode kids get when super excited, showering me with questions. Did I always walk home from work? What time do I usually leave in the morning? What was I doing there? I LIVED there? NO WAY!!!

"You mean you live in the same building as me????!!!" one of the kids gaped, vibrating with excitement. We live on different floors, but yes.

"Other Kid, SHE LIVES HERE!!!!" they bellowed at a fourth student of mine who walked up to us. ("OH MY GOOOOD!!!!")

It turns out that that kid is my next-door neighbour. Like, we share a wall and everything.

We found that out when I pointed out which window was mine.

They followed me home like a pack of excited puppies and got to meet my mom (who lives with me).

They later stopped by while eating freezies to say hi again and to peek into my house in wonder. They were SO fascinated at the fact they not only live by their teacher but also know what their house looks like, lol.

[dandelion-wings]

for the ask meme - 💘 jean/eula? thank you!

Sorry you had to wait so long for this! I unfortunately have to be in a kissing mood to write kissing, and, well, I was not when this message finally showed up. XD;; But hopefully you will enjoy it anyway!

---

ETA: Now on AO3.

---

There are other Knights, Eula will admit, who could handle this situation better than she. Captain Kaeya could easily have diverted the opponent with friendly questions; their Librarian could easily have devised some smiling defense. But neither of them are here, and so it falls to Eula to rescue Jean from her besieged position.

Fortunately, Eula excels at moving across difficult terrain without disturbing the enemy. The nobility of Fontaine try to step in her way, oozing pleasantries, but she side-steps and dodges around them with her gaze cast slightly away as if she hadn't seen them, making it impossible for them to claim offense. Her attention is fully fixed on the anxious, desperate looks Jean keeps throwing her from across the room.

"Jean," she says when she draws close, reaching out to take her arm in silent support. "I require your company."

"I don't believe we've met," says the red-eyed woman who has backed Jean against the wall, looking Eula up and down.

Eula raises her chin high and meets the Knave's burning gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "I am Eula Lawrence, Captain of the Fourth Company of the Knights of Favonius, and thus your equal in rank in our respective organizations."

She can feel Jean's arm going tense beneath her hand, and squeezes it in reassurance. Fatui scum or not, the Knave won't descend to open violence in the center of this opulent hall, with all the nobility of Fontaine watching. Not that Eula trusts most of them--too many collude with her own family to do so--but the Iudex himself stands in a far corner, gazing at the crowd, and Lady Caspar is making her way gradually towards them. Neither would permit an open duel.

Wisdom says that Eula should be glad of that guard. The fury she'd felt at seeing the Knave standing so close to her Acting Grand Master, though, makes her wish it absent.

"It sounds as if you know who I am," the Knave says. Her eyes for a moment seem to flicker, growing at once darker and hotter, and Eula feels as vertiginous as if she was teetering on the edge of a yawning pit. Then her gaze flicks over to Lady Caspar, and she bows, smoothly, taking a step back as she does so. "Since introductions are over, I'll leave you and your paramour to it."

"Paramour?" Lady Caspar asks, reaching out as she reaches them to put her hand on the Knave's in almost exact echo of Eula's gesture. She looks at Eula and Jean and smiles. "No one knew the two of you were a couple. I'll speak to Gestionnaires Margette about having your rooming situation rearranged appropriately."

"That's not-" Eula begins to say, her heart pounding in her ears and a pit opening up in the bottom of her stomach. She can't look at Jean. If Jean, whom she does value as a friend, of whom she might have had... hopes, if secret ones, never to be spoken, should look dismayed or disgusted....

"That's very kind of you," Jean interrupts her. "We hadn't wished to make a fuss."

"It's no trouble at all! I know Margette has the appropriate housing." Lady Caspar smiles brightly, giving them a little finger-wave. Her grip on the Knave's arm is quite firm; Eula can see the muscle flexing under the lace of her sleeve.

Jean pulls her arm away only to tuck it into Eula's, then turns them both. Eula follows her lead towards the buffet, away from the Knave, though the hair on the back of her neck rises, and she has to resist the urge to look back as they leave. She can feel the Knave's eyes burning into her back.

"Why did you not correct the Lady Caspar?" she demands as soon as they're far enough away not to be overheard, pulling her arm away from Jean and turning to scowl at her. "Do you find that much advantage in letting these foppish idiots think you bound to a Lawrence?"

Which is entirely possible, given the unctuous way they've been behaving towards Eula all night, and *that's* a worse thought than Jean merely being disgusted. The pit in her stomach seems to open wider.

"No. I would never trade upon your name in such a way," Jean says, looking at Eula with earnest worry. "But since Lady Caspar offered to rearrange our rooms, I thought it would be best to accept. That way neither of us will spend the night in a room alone. Do you recall that message delivered to me on our way through Romaritime Port this morning?"

"I recall."

"That was from an associate- that is, someone acquainted with Master Diluc who lives in the area, whom he asked to look out for us. It said that there was serious risk of someone moving against... well, you. It seems they believe that removing you would curry favor with your family. I meant to warn you before this, but with all the ceremonies, I haven't had the chance."

Which explains the desperate looks Jean was throwing her. She hadn't been trapped after all--nor in need of Eula's rescue. Rather, her intentions had been the other way around.

Embarrassment pricks her, and she tosses her head, reflexively haughty in reaction. "Do you doubt my ability to handle any such assassins on my own? I'll make you pay for such condescension."

"I don't doubt your ability at all. But I would rather be there at your side, if you would permit me."

Protecting her Knights is her responsibility as Acting Grand Master, and Eula knows how seriously Jean takes that. The softness in her eyes may be merely worry. Eula suspects, though, that it's more. She wouldn't have harbored those secret hopes of hers if Jean didn't look at her in this way so often, and never in such fashion at anyone else. Crystalflies flutter in her stomach, but she chokes back the weak-kneed wistfulness that she always feels at that look.

"If you insist," she says, chin high, refusing to be anything but aristocratic.

The smile that spreads over Jean's face just makes the crystalflies' wings beat harder. "Thank you for granting me this favor."

"If this is the story we're going with, you might as well use it to best advantage," Eula says, holding her arm out to Jean. "Let's go play tiresome aristocratic games with those who will be more impressed our names than by our titles."

"I'll follow your lead," Jean says, taking her arm with a smile.

***

The evening is torture, and not because of the song and dance that Eula finds so foolish and these people take so seriously. *That's* not anything worse than she endures any time she speaks to her family. Having Jean on her arm, though, standing so close, smiling and graciously letting Eula introduce her.... The weak-kneed wistfulness has turned to a physical ache by the time the party winds to a close.

"Tomorrow we'll be able to speak to the Iudex himself in a private appointment," Jean says as they leave the ballroom and start down the halls to their room. "That will be far more productive. Or rather, feel far more productive. Fontaine's ruling class does buy so much wine, this may have been the more important part of our visit."

"I've heard he's admirably straightforward."

Jean's shoulders loosen the further they get from the party, and now she smiles at Eula. "So have I. He requested that I send an agenda ahead of time, and sent it back with only one addition, so I hope- ah! Excuse us," she says quickly as they round a corner.

The hallway leads through flung-open doors to a balcony ahead, and the Knave straightens from where she was leaning upon its railing at Jean's exclamation and turns to study them both. "Hmmm. They must have put you in the Lumidouce Wing."

Both Eula and Jean are tense now, though Eula thinks they're doing an equally good job of hiding it. The Knave looks casual, but a Fatui Harbinger can afford to be so even when issuing a threat. Eula had all but challenged her earlier, after all. Her pulse quickens.

"That's what we were told," Jean says, still polite even as Eula feels her shift her weight in readiness to call upon her Vision.

"If you go back around the corner and up the stairs, it's quicker, but there's a better view if you walk along the gallery," the Knave says, gesturing towards her left, where the balcony does indeed seem to extend. "I've heard it's very popular for romantic midnight trysts."

"You're quite familiar with the layout of the Palais for someone who doesn't live here," Eula says, astonished at the brazen challenge in her own voice as she says it. Having Jean here beside her makes her want to draw herself taller, to throw down that gauntlet and prove just how close she may, in fact, be to matching a Harbinger. With Jean by her side, they might even be able to take her.

The Knave meets her gaze with an expression of *infuriating* boredom, as if Eula's challenge is nothing before her. "I once considered paying a nighttime visit to someone who lived here. I turned out to meet her elsewhere, but my children enjoyed exploring it for me, so I ended up with quite a complete map."

As she speaks, she steps forward, walking briskly past them without even a twitch of aggression. This time Eula can't keep herself from turning about, letting go of Jean to better eye the woman's unguarded back. She rounds the corner without a backward glance, and yet Eula feels certain that she's completely aware of them even past the moment she vanishes from sight.

Wind swirls around them as Jean sighs in relief, stirring the flowers in a nearby vase. Slowly, Eula relaxes. Only now does she feel the chill that pervades the hallway.

"Well," she says, holding her arm out to Jean again. "Let us see this gallery."

They step outside into much warmer air. A faint breeze blows through the night, carrying snatches of song from some street performer, or perhaps another party. Lights glitter all through the city, a bright pneumosia-powered sparkling that outlines the elegant forms of buildings and walls. Eula pauses to look.

"It is an impressive sight," she says grudgingly.

"It is," Jean agrees.

Something in her tone makes Eula turn her head. Jean isn't looking at the city; her gaze is turned up towards Eula. She's smiling, soft and wistful, that same softness that Eula had seen in her worry earlier, but even more devastating wound up in this smile. Eula's knees threaten to go weak all over again.

"She did say that this was a place for romantic trysts," Jean breathes, a hushed whisper that doesn't hide the yearning in it. "If you wish this to be only a pretense, there is no one watching who will know we did not act as lovers. But... if you wished...."

The crystalflies loop and twist in Eula's stomach. She takes a deep breath, to steady them. Then she meets Jean's soft gaze with all the seriousness it deserves and answers, only, "I do wish."

She leans in. Jean's mouth is soft as her eyes, at first, giving easily to the assault Eula mounts, yielding as if Eula is a welcomed guest and not a hated Lawrence aggressor. Or as if she fears that Eula will bolt, given any kind of resistance. Eula makes an impatient sound into her mouth, and Jean pushes back just as hard, losing her hesitance, meeting Eula on equal ground and matching her in equal measure.

Anemo swirls around and through them, both of them breathing deep even as Eula's pulse begins to race again, pounding for far sweeter reasons than mere battle. She can feel Jean's in her wrists as she grasps them both, pulling her closer, leaning against the balcony rail as she draws her in tight. The glitter of the city behind and the Palais rising above is nothing to the feeling of Jean pressed up against her, the soft, hungry sounds she's making, the rush of satisfaction Eula feels as her secret hopes are, impossibly, met.

A quiet thump in the hallway, around the corner, makes them break apart, both glancing that way at once. There's nothing there, though, but dimness, the lights that had glowed along the walls as they passed gone silently dark. Eula lets go of Jean's wrists.

Before either of them can ready for an attack, though, the lights flicker and come back on. Jean laughs and smiles sheepishly at Eula. "I have heard that pneumosia is not a perfect system. There must have been a temporary fault."

"That woman put us both on edge." Eula pushes away from the railing and tosses her head, reaching out at the same time for Jean's hand. "Let's find this room we've been put in. The view may be impressive, but I'd prefer a door between us and her if we're going to be distracted."

"Oh," Jean says, as if *distraction* hadn't occurred to her. Then she takes Eula's hand and nods. "That would be for the best."

Fingers wound together, they make for the privacy of their room. Whatever may threaten--those supposed assassins, the Knave herself--Eula will make them pay for any interruption they offer. Jean may not have needed her rescue earlier, but Eula refuses to be a damsel in distress either. They'll face their foes here hand-in-hand.

[thewickedbohemian]

Thoughts on the Brilliant Minds pilot

cinematic-ass opening montage-thing

so they're basically trying to make him be House

and now I'm crying

and now he's singing and I'm very much feeling what they're saying about the music

faceblindness, hmm...autistic???

so he's a fusion of House and Max Goodwin

when one door closes a Call To Adventure opens

nice house, needs a turret though

looks like more plants per square feet than Botany Manor from the game of the same name

badass female lead as usual

So that was Andre De Shields

tragic backstory unlocked

cue the ensemble

*Veggietales narrator voice* "shocked and slightly embarrassed by the sight of their attending in a towel"

I think I've heard about this condition somewhere I just don't know where

So unlike House he is gay, he just needs a Wilson (and we're not doing the guy-girl slowburn shit you'd otherwise expect from characters like this on a show like this)

houston we have a dick

let's meet the interns and now I'm getting reminded of Scorpion and The Librarians (and I wonder if, like on Scorpion, the one with the anxiety will end up becoming my favorite)

and he's taking someone else's drugs

there was an attempt at empathy

screw your protocol

as I myself have said mental illness is still illness

what the psychic vision just happened with that flashback

so it is what I thought it was, Capgras Syndrome (and isn't even a fourth-wall break, no set here)

exactly what mom thought they were going to do just mom thought they were going to blindfold her not turn the TV around

who gave her a backless chair!?

expected dark night of the soul

she would have been fine if they talked to her when she wasn't facing them

let's go chase a patient (and I'm going to have to look up that needle drop)

better attempt at connection let's see if it works

there's the blindfold mom was expecting...and it works

I hate chalk noises even on TV

nice going through the play-by-play of her plan

expectedly unexpected twist hammers home the whole "find your way back home" motif

In conclusion if you love House, New Amsterdam or Scorpion you should totally check Brilliant Minds out, I hate to judge based one (really good) episode but this show not only deserves to go on for years but it deserves a fandom as big as House's

[boomboom-tanjiro2019]

OUR BELOVED SUMMER AU

PORTGAS D ACE X F! READER

This is gonna be based off the KDRAMA "Our Beloved Summer" I haven't finished it so keep that in mind. Idk if this is gonna be continued but this is the concept. Use of They/Them for Ivankov. I'm a Mrs. Kook defender. Not much was changed here but I will be altering to fit with the characters personalities a bit. Some original "Our Beloved Summer" characters might be split into two depending on the scene. The formatting is super weird so might not make sense, I really reccomend the show! Basically the different font is when the two are being interviewed and the flashbacks in between are describing the events of their meeting. As it goes on it will make more sense. Obv this is not my original storyline though some parts are changed 100% reccomend the show.

PROLOGUE

May, 2011

Interview, Ace sits in chair shuffling awkwardly. Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17: Oh… start? Uh- My name is Portgas D. Ace.

-

A teacher talks at the front of the classroom as Ace knocks out in a fit of narcolepsy. Camera crew recording to the right of him near a window, miniature camera facing him on his desk, another camera facing the girl next to him.

His eyes flutter open and immediately direct to the camera crew next to him, comfortability snatched away from him.

“Don’t look at the camera” Dragon whispers over.

Ace slowly lifts his head, “It’s too big for me to miss…”

Dragon sighs, “Just… pretend there’s nothing over here”

“How am I supposed to do that? It’s right in front of me??”

“Ignore it-“

“Idiot. Face forward.” The girl in the chair next to Ace whisper shouts over the teacher. Ace furrows his eyebrows and looks at her as she stares down at him from his hunched over position, “…Why are you looking at me? Look at the board.”

‘Bitch.’ Ace thinks.

“Class is dismissed! Do whatever you want.” The teacher, Dracule Mihawk sighs and whispers under his breath, “Fuck these kids.”

He packs up his things as the camera crew stays fixated on him.

“You’re leaving?” she asks, sitting in the same spot.

“None of your business what I’m doing.” Ace messily shoves his things in his bag, papers everywhere crumpled together.

The girl takes a deep breath, “Sir, can we stop recording?” Her head slowly turns to glare at the back of Ace’s head, “It’s really hard to work with such an idiot.”

Ace turns on the heel of his sneakers “Huh? You call me an idi-“

“We have been filming for DAYS. The whole time you’ve been moving around like you’re insane. I can’t focus at ALL because you were so restless.”

“The camera is- RIGHT. THERE. What the hell do you want me to do?”

“Focus on class? Maybe?! You can’t even do that?”

“Then ignore me and focus on yourself.”

“Fine. You don’t care about getting good grades, totally get it. But I refuse for you to end up bringing me down to your level.”

Ace turns to the camera in a “The Office” style fourth wall break, “You heard that right?” He turns back, “I’m SOOO happy for you. Your social skills couldn’t get lower.”

The girl scoffs and murmurs “why did I even agree to this?”

“I KNOW right?” Ace smiles and puts his hands on his hips with a sarcastically confused expression, “Why DID you agree to this?” With that, he storms off.

-

Interview Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  My name is Y/N L/N. I think I first saw Ace around the tenth grade.

-

Flashback to when Y/N is describing, October 17, 2009 

Y/N approaches the library desk, peaking over at the top Bookworms list.

Portgas D Ace

Y/N L/N

“Excuse me, Mrs.?” Y/N asks as the librarian looks up. “Who is…um…” she reads the name one more time “ Ace?”

“Oh? Ace? He’s over there actually.” She points to a guy over in the corner of the library.

-

Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17: I met him in a weird spot.

-

“Hey.” She stands near the boy, “My name is Y/N. What’s your school rank?”

Ace looks at her, taken aback and kind of bashfully , “Erm… 267.”

She freezes, “But… we only have-“

“267 students.”

-

Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  At that moment, I thought he was a super weird kid. Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  UM- No. That was the 2nd time we met. The first time was during the entrance ceremony.

-

Flashback to their freshman year, first day of school.

A multitude of students stand in separate lines at a school gym as school officials sit in chairs on a decorated front stage.

“The student entering into their first year with the best grades from middle school is Y/N L/N!” A principle shouts over the chatter.

-

Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  I watched her walk because she looked like a soldier marching into war or something.

-

Y/N grabs her award with a small and serious smile and swiftly going back to her spot in line.

Ace’s deep chocolate eyes meet her piercing and intoxicating ones, he smiles softly at her.

-

Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  In my own defense here, I was just trying to be nice to her the first time our eyes met.

-

“Hey.” She tilts her head up in his direction. 

Ace gasps slightly, cursing himself for doing it right after. His eyes widen and he waits for another word intently

“Turn around.” She narrows her eyes at him.

He looks as if he was pretending not to die slowly, his eyes staying in the same position as only his head slowly rotates forward like a depressed owl.

-

Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  That’s when I realized she was pretty weird. Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  …ANYWAY- I never thought I would have gotten involved with a kid as weird as HIM.

-

Senior Year, February, 2011

Ace rolls around in a chair, restlessly holding a bag over his head with his nose scrunched and bopping his head to non-existent music like the Wii soundtrack was the only thing that was in his head. Which wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption. The teachers’ room is packed with desks and computers.

“So- what do you think?” Ivankov smiles in an overexcited manner, “The director is a SUPER close confidant of mine and he PROMISED not to get in your way. Awesome right?” They wink, “You can always refuse of course.”

“…Am I the only one being filmed?” She asks.

“No, there will be another, they’ll record the best student and worst student for a month and see how you two will interact. Like a documentary. That’s where Ace-boy over there comes in.”

Y/N’s eyes pan over to Ace getting slapped with a rolled up piece of paperwork by a female teacher, wincing at the contact and putting on the expression of a hurt puppy… or a spoiled toddler. “Ouch- sorry-“ he whispers.

‘…right.” She thinks.

“Anyway- just keep the offer in mind, alright?” Ivankov smiles.

“Okay I will.” She smiles, “Thank you- wait… sorry- say I do agree to it, do I get paid for it?”

“Of course! You’ll be paid well.”

Ace’s bag stays over his head and his eyes stare directly at her as she’s leaving, catching her off guard. She freezes and looks him up and down before jogging off.

-

Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  To me, it seemed like he was my total opposite. I thought about saying no. Portgas D. Ace, High School Senior, 17:  Yeah, well I had already said no when Iva asked me, but turned out I had no choice in the matter anyway.

-

“ACE!” Dadan calls out to her “not son” and drags him over to the bench the other two are still sitting at, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US ABOUT THE DOCUMENTARY?!”

“OW OW- why would I?! I’m not doing it.” Ace shouts while getting thrown over to sit on the bench.

Garp laughs and hits Ace way too hard on the back, “What are you TALKING ABOUT? Of course you are! Dragon came all this way to ask. Even though he owes me thousands in child support.”

Dadan mumbles, “You mean he owes ME.”

“YOU CAN'T MISS THIS CHANCE.”

“YOU’RE GONNA GET TO STUDY WITH THE TOP STUDENT OF THE YEAR- YOU HAVE TO.”

“I DON’T WANT TO!” Ace shouts, temper rising.

Garp’s grin fades, “Why the HELL not kid? How can you refuse?!”

“Strangers are gonna know my face!” He puts his arms up in defense.

Dadan scoffs, “as if you care about that.”

“I’m a senior! This will affect my academics.” Ace crosses his arms and closes his eyes as if that was a valid argument.

Silence.

Dadan and Garp burst out laughing.

Dadan can barely get the words out and shouts, “WELL THEY CAN’T GET ANY WORSE KID!”

Garp is still smiling but his laughter fades out, “I mean… they could be to Luffy’s level.”

“…Don’t even go there, he’s lucky he’s only a freshman so they can’t ask him to be in the documentary. He’s the only one Ace is beating right now.” Dadan completely stops smiling at the reminder of the horror that is Luffy’s academic life. No one is even sure he can read. “Besides, you’ll be studying with the TOP STUDENT! You should be GRATEFUL!!”

“But…. BUT! I…. THAT GIRL IS A WEIRDO!”

-

Going back to the interview room with the two at least two feet a part glancing at each other tiredly Y/N L/N, High School Senior, 17:  Yeah. That’s it- that’s about how this whole thing started. And it became way more bothersome than I thought.

-

Ace sits down in the classroom he switched to, pulling out an array of unnecessary items.

Y/N sighs, “it’s always the worst students who cause the most ruckus.”

Ace looks confusedly over to her, “You talking to me?”

“Keep your stuff off of my desk.”

Ace sassily scoots his colors over to the complete other side of his desk and slowly scoots the overlapping pages of Y/N’s book to her side.”

-

Portgas D. Ace, 17:  She was way more annoying than I could have ever imagined.

-

The two documentary stars sit at a lunch table alone with cameras between them documenting their every move.

-

Portgas D. Ace, 17: At first I tried to be friends with her.

-

“Hey um….” Ace awkwardly smiles before trying to talk, not being able to think of a conversation starter. He slowly puts his head back down, fiddling with his spoon and food, but a piece goes flying and lands right on Y/N’s white shirt getting sauce stains on it. 

She looks down slowly and coldly, and in Ace’s personal opinion, seems like she is going to beat the living shit out of him. She looks back up and focuses her eyes away from Ace.

Ace’s eyes widen and he stiffens immediately, “Oh- um- sorry…” he cringes at himself.

She ignores his apology and takes a napkin to try to wipe off the stain, she finally looks back up at him and glares, grabbing a sauce packet and slowly opening it.

Oblivious to the action, Ace turns and points at her sheepishly while facing the camera, trying to explain. “I didn’t mean-“ A spray of sauce goes flying at Ace’s shirt as he gasps and faces her defensively. “I said I was sorry!”

“Good for you. I’m not.” 

-

Y/N L/N, 17:  What was I gonna do? We are just too different.

-

Y/N and Ace were forced to be recorded attending a gym class, normally Ace’s forte. However, Y/N was set on using him as a human shield instead of playing normally.

She moved him while trying to avoid the ball, causing Ace to get hit and very uncharacteristically fall to the ground. Y/N taking this opportunity to tilt his head the direction of the ball and get him hit in the face instead of the side of his head had he just stayed there.

She stands up again and Ace pulls away facing her in anger, “HEY WHAT THE F-“

Y/N quickly turns him around to the direction of the ball, still unnecessary given he would have still blocked it with the back of his head, Ace realizes and quickly ducks down.

The ball approaches quickly while Y/N is still in that same spot.

The ball smacks her right smack dab in the middle of the face, knocking her down not from momentum of the throw, but the shock and late reflexes making her fall back much easier than normal.

Ace flips his head around, realizing late, “PFFT- uh- you alright there?” He smiles and lends a hand while Y/N grabs his arm and digs her nails into his wrist in cold blood.

-

Y/N L/N, 17: He acts like a child.

-

Ace lies down on a bench looking up at trees that have light partially peeking through. Like a glimpse of heaven or an artwork showing how nature can work in harmony to form a single piece.

He talks to the camera crew facing a camera up at him from above, “One of the things I love doing the most is lying in the shade, with the sun peeking down on me through the trees.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Y/N interrupts Ace’s filming standing up over him, “Finish that book so you can return it.”

Ace smiles and examines the book, reaching out with it to give to her, as she reaches for it snatching it away with a shit eating grin to put it under his head as a pillow and sighs, “Wow… this is great.”

Y/N fumes and snatches both of the books from under Ace and lets his head hit the hard wood of the bench.

-

Y/N L/N, 17:  To top it off he’s lazy.

-

Students sit in an eerily quiet classroom, pencils marking away at workbooks, the only sound being Ace’s giggling at his phone out texting some of his friends from Whitebeard’s Resort where he works for the summer.

The students glare over at Ace, not one saying a word, settling for silent annoyance. Y/N grows tired and snatches the phone right out of his hand and shoves it in her backpack.

Ace stands up in shock and disbelief, the sound of the clanking chair alarming Mr. Mihawk.

“What was that?” He enters back into the classroom from the conversation he was having with Shanks, probably escaping it honestly, “ACE! You AGAIN?! I thought I told you all to be quiet.” He sighs and rubs his temples.

Ace glares over at Y/N who gives him a fake confused look and innocently smiles.

-

Portgas D. Ace, 17:  Things are already exhausting and she has a knack for making them even worse. Y/N L/N, 17:  To sum it up, Portgas D. Ace is pathetic.

-

"Sorry, what was that last question?" Ace asks Dragon in an isolated room, Y/N sitting two feet to his right.

"How about why can't you pay attention?" She crosses her arms and shoots him a pointed glare.

"Right..." Dragon sighs, "I'm gonna restart the recording now, if we can just get this segment done."

Portgas D Ace: Things I hate? *He smiles* Y/N L/N. She’s some weird girl I know.

Y/N L/N: *Facing him* I hate pathetic things. I despise people who are hopelessly pathetic the most. Portgas D. Ace: *Inconspicuously pointing at her* And being selfish! I hate selfish people who only-

Y/N L/N:  People who cause trouble for others! If you want to fail, fail on your own. Why do the rest of us have to go with you? Portgas D. Ace:  People who are super harsh, and speak without thinking. To me those people are super rude. Y/N L/N:  Look at who is talking. He needs to look in a mirror because he doesn’t think at all.

Portgas D. Ace:  He?! Me??? Y/N L/N:  You started it by bitching at me first! Portgas D. Ace: Ugh. Are you done talking? Y/N: Not yet because I’m obviously still talking. Ace: Why did you guys want me to film this again? Y/N: Because it’s a documentary filming the best student helping the worst. Correct? Ace: Ohhhhh… I see… you’re seeing how long normal people can endure anti-social ones. Experiments like this are just unethical. Y/N: Oh I’m sorry… from the title BEST and WORST student who would you think is more antisocial?

Ace: People like her exhaust everyone around them as soon as they enter society. Y/N: Someone like you wouldn’t even be able to enter society so how would you know that? Dragon: Alright… um… here’s a DIFFERENT question: what do you think you’ll both be doing after ten years?

*Silence* Ace: Let’s see… I’ll be 27 by then… Y/N: Whatever it is, I’m hopeful and pretty sure that I will be good at whatever it is I’m doing. Ace:  Ummmmm… I guess I wanna live an adventurous life without being too tied down. Y/N: I’ll lead groups of people in my company and have an active and fulfilling life, a successful one. Ace: I want a free and open life Ace and Y/N: With one thing for sure- Y/N:  I’ll have nothing to do with the pathetic person next to me. Ace: *Scoff*  That’s how I feel.

Dragon shuts off his camera and exits the room with Ivankov waiting outside, "Maybe I've gotten myself into more trouble than it's worth."

"Oh it'll be fine... They'll learn something and become better people by the end of it." They smile.

"I suppose you'r-" He's interrupted by the sound of clanking chairs and incoherent yelling.

"Or maybe they'll kill each other before filming is over and this will be for nothing" Ivankov pats Dragon on the back and take off.

[taanoir]

Chapter 1: Training for the Impossible

The grumpy clerk reappeared, this time slightly less grumpy but still scowling.

He led Raerynn to another chamber, this one was well lit and smelled like parchment, ink and wood. The room was brightly lit, not like Gonesic’s office, the light shone off the highly polished parquet floor. The library walls were lined with scrolls, codices and books. Some looked like they would crumble if you stared too hard. He was not an academic, not to say that he didn't have an education, his parents worked hard to make sure he had one, but his focus was on practical magic. He left the lore and dead languages to his classmates looking to become professors or clergy.

An elderly librarian was bringing another stack of scrolls to the tables. She was wispy like a fairy, with the grace to rival. Her silver locks peeked out of her hood, he imagined that she must have been pretty in her youth. Raerynn stood watching her set up until the old book tender motioned him over and asked if he needed a written invitation. He felt the fire in his face again and scurried over to the table. He helped her settle the scrolls for their lesson.

The woman introduced herself as Lady Madlyn, the Archivist, she would also be his tutor. “I’ve spent most of my years in this castle and over one hundred have been caring for the materials in this library, as well as the rest of the royal collection. I know every volume as if it were an old friend.”

Raerynn introduced himself, "It’s nice to meet you Lady Madlyn, I’m Raerynn, son of Thadd but most people just call me Ryn". He made a half bow and thanked her for the help. She nodded and started to work "Well Ryn, we have a lot of material to cover to get you on your way. The goal today is for you to be able to open wickets on purpose."

She spread out the first scroll, a faded diagram on how to draw and move energy to open the wicket. He began by trying to read through the text near the images, he forgot how difficult middle Cuquan was. Madlyn, gently corrected his pronunciations and translated the text to it's modern equivalent. By the time they moved to the fourth scroll, she was having to make less corrections.

The fifth scroll discussed teaching wickets to children, seeing his confusion, Madlyn stopped "generations ago everyone could open wickets. They were like purses or trunks, some people had multiple for holding different things. They bound objects to them to act as a key. If you had the key you could open the door. Some, you had to use the right key in the right place, it was a security measure." Ryn was still confused and curious "why did spellcasters quit using them?" She clarified "They didn't quit using them, they stopped being able to open them. This was long before my time, but from what I've read, fifty years or so after the Spellcasters moved from Lethemyna to Eldovire, the children born here couldn't access the wickets. Some families tried moving back to the Old Capital but it didn't help. There were a lot of theories on why it happened but no one really knows for sure. Eventually, it became astonishingly rare, The last spellcaster that was identified as having the ability was a couple hundred years ago. I knew him a bit when I was a girl" Ryn hung on her words, this was far more interesting that the scrolls but she insisted they continue with the lesson. “We can talk more history later, for now you need to read.”

After several hours of reading through wicket practical's, he was ready to scream. She had him stand, she wanted him to do some stretches before they proceeded. Once he was limbered up she walked him through the stances he'd been reading about and had him try to open a wicket. The tiny door flashed and sputtered, but it was a start. Lady Madlyn nodded her head and returned to the stacks. The scrolls were replaced with an older scroll this one was in a language he didn't recognize and couldn't read at all. He sheepishly admitted to the librarian that he couldn't read this one, she smirked "I would be quite surprised if you could, it's in Mnemosian. I'll read it to you just pay attention to the the instructions, this one doesn't have illustrations." Her slight bit at his ego, but she was right.

He listened as she read the text but before long his mind was wandering, her voice had become a background noise to flow of thoughts racing through his mind. Madlyn looked over at the glazed pastry that was her student, she called for her steward “Cedrick! Bring a draught of Amygdelight!” In a matter of minuets the steward reappeared with a bottle and a glass. Lady Madlyn poured a cup of glowing purple liquid and put it in Ryn's hand. "drink, we don't have a lot of time and I need you to pay attention." Ryn considered the concoction for a moment, deciding that it can't be that bad he drained the glass. The liquid was sickly sweet, slightly viscose and coated his insides in a tingly warmth. The potion worked quickly, his mind captured every word as she read through the ancient volume. The information suddenly made sense, like he had know it his entire life. He made a mental note to request that up front if he had to go through more of this torture.

Madlyn came to the end of the last scroll. “I’m going to have you stretch again, tightness in your muscles and joints will cause blockages in your magic. You want everything free flowing but your stances need to be firm.” He nodded in agreement and began the exercise. This time his joints stretched tight then loosened. She directed him in to the poses “You're loosened up, good. Now were going to plant our feet, feel the ground with your heels and toes, notice how solid it is. Feet shoulder-width, good, good. Hips set, shoulders back and squared. Now give it a try.”

He concentrated with purpose, firmly planting his feet and his mind. This time the door opened. It looked like a hole to nothing, but it opened. Lady Madlyn let out a cheer! He was ready for the next step.

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