#honestly though this boy has been through a lot so it HAS to be somewhat dark | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theemporium · 11 months ago

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[14.5k] ethan edwards was prepared for his rookie year in the nhl. he just wasn't prepared for a rat infestation, an unlikely roommate and to fall in love too. (smutty scenes mostly implied)

aka a fic based in the future when ethan finally joins the devils so don’t take anything remotely seriously!

happy birthday @httplando!! enjoy the belated birthday fic🤠gonna go mute you now before you spam my phone with voice notes of you giggling over ethan xoxo

SEPTEMBER

Ethan Edwards thought he was prepared for his rookie year.

He had long come to terms with the fact he was in the National Hockey League. It still felt surreal but the reality had long sunk in since the day he was drafted. This was his goal. This was his dream. And he had made it.

And he knew it would be different from hockey in any other league he had played. He knew it would be faster, harder, more demanding than college hockey. He knew that he would be pushing his body to levels he had never experienced. He knew he was mentally going to go through some of the toughest months of his life as he settled into the big leagues. He knew he was taking the sport he loved to a whole new level and he was prepared for that.

He was prepared for his rookie year.

He wasn’t prepared to fall in love with you.

More than that, he wasn’t prepared to fall in love and not fucking realise it. Especially when you were his fucking roommate.

Though, when he thought about it, the signs from the universe directing you onto his life path was there long before his first game as a New Jersey Devil.

“Have you signed for a place yet?” Luke had asked him during the summer, somewhere in the days between wakeboarding and sunbathing and enjoying the freedom of his last stress-free summer before he entered the professional league.

“I’ve got a few potential options but it’s fine,” Ethan had replied, dozing off on the sunlounger with his eyes closed beneath his sunglasses. “I’ve got time before training camp starts. There’s no rush.”

And honestly? It was his own stupid ignorance that led to the karma of his current situation.

“We do apologise, Mr Edwards, but there is nothing we can do. The building manager won’t be able to fix the problems before your move in date and we have no available lots to accommodate you until the problems are solved.”

Ethan tried to let the woman’s soothing voice calm him, but it was hard to find any peace in the words she was saying. “So, I’m homeless?”

“Once again, we do apologise for the inconvenience but the apartment is completely inhabitable.”

Because of fucking course he would find himself scrambling for last minute accommodation in Jersey, days before he was meant to meet his new team and start settling in to his rookie year. The universe couldn’t be too nice to him, not in the year he knew was going to be one of the roughest of his life.

So, he did what any sane person would do and had a total breakdown on the phone to his mother. And then he called Luke, feeling somewhat spiteful that the boy jinxed his luck earlier that summer. The least he could do is help him out now.

After Luke had spent the first five minutes laughing because, in his words, “who the fuck has a rat infested apartment in Jersey?”

“Can you help me or not?” Ethan sighed, fingers pressed against his temples in hopes it would ease the ache that had been lingering behind his eyes since he first picked up the phone from the estate agent that morning.

“I mean, I’m sure Nico or one of the other guys wouldn’t mind taking you in. Jack stayed with—” Luke started but a distressed noise from Ethan cut him short.

“Yeah but Jack was, like, eighteen. I’m meant to be a fucking college graduate,” Ethan grumbled, his cheeks burning. “What impression would that set for the guys on the team?”

Luke paused. “You’re absolutely reading far too much into this.”

Ethan scoffed. “I think my reaction is justified.”

“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled under his breath before sighing. “I have a friend that was looking for a roommate, actually. You could always stay with them until your place is sorted. The apartment isn’t too far from the rink.”

“Someone on the team?”

“No, someone else.”

Ethan blinked. “You have friends outside of hockey? Outside of me?”

“Yes, Ethan, I have other friends. You aren’t my only friend.”

“You think you know people and they stab you in the back,” Ethan sighed, far too dramatically (in Luke’s opinion).

“Look, do you want the place or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan quickly spoke up. “That would be perfect. Send me your friend’s number.”

Now, when Luke had told Ethan that he had a friend—a non-hockey friend, at that—that was looking for a roommate, he wasn’t exactly sure what or who was expecting. He didn’t like to make assumptions on people when he knew little to nothing about them. It didn’t feel polite.

But he feels like he’s pretty fucking justified in feeling duped by the youngest Hughes brother when he finds out his new roommate isn’t a guy at all.

In Ethan’s opinion, that feels like pretty fucking important information to reveal before he shows up at your door with his car down below packed up with bags and boxes down in the carpark.

Because now, he looks like a fucking idiot when you open the door and he is left standing there, frozen and mouth open like a fish whilst every English word is thrown out of his head.

“You must be Ethan,” you said eventually, because Ethan still couldn’t bring himself to speak after a painful thirty seconds. “Luke’s friend?”

“Uh yeah,” he cleared his throat, at least having the decency to look somewhat embarrassed by his reaction with blushing cheeks. “Thank you so much, by the way. You’re really doing me a huge favour.”

“Luke said you were desperate.”

Ethan wanted to disagree but he couldn’t. Not really.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” he tried to laugh off, though your face remained mostly unimpressed. “So—”

“Your room is the one on the left. Your bathroom is right next door. Three cupboards have been emptied for you in the kitchen and you have the top shelves in the fridge,” you stated, so matter-of-factly that Ethan could only blink in response. “Any questions?”

“No?”

“Great,” and with that, you wandered further into the apartment, leaving Ethan standing in the doorway dumbfounded.

…

OCTOBER

It didn’t take long for Ethan to realise you had some walls around you, and small talk was certainly not the way to get past them.

It was a shift to the roommates he was used to, fresh out of college and having spent the better part of the last four years staying with some of his closest friends and teammates. But it wasn’t totally unwelcome on his part. It was kind of nice to have a space that wasn’t so…hockey.

And it helped that he had his own space.

September passed in the blink of an eye and soon training camp became the real deal. It felt surreal to think he was really in the NHL now, that he was a professional hockey player, that this was his job and his livelihood now.

But it also felt fucking great.

The schedule of an NHL player was no joke and it was certainly not something Luke exaggerated—despite what Ethan assumed during the summer. It was intense and tiring and he didn’t have much time to think about anything else.

Except maybe his ice cold, standoffish roommate.

As the regular season began, Ethan had come to a few conclusions.

One: you were not a morning person, especially before having any form of caffeine. That was something he learnt the hard way.

Early morning practices were nothing new to Ethan. He wasn’t exactly an early bird, but his body had trained itself to familiarise itself with the early mornings after years and years of playing hockey. It was the norm for him, to be awake as the sun started peeking through the horizon and the rest of the world was about to wake up.

He wouldn’t call himself chipper, not really. He was just as energetic as he normally is.

You seemed to disagree.

“Morning, stranger!” Ethan greeted you as you shuffled into the kitchen, with a boyish grin on his face and a spatula in hand.

You didn’t even glance at him as you shuffled towards the fridge.

“Not a morning person, got it,” Ethan nodded, biting back his smile as you turned to glare at him.

“It’s half six in the morning,” you grumbled. “Why are you so loud?”

“My mum says it’s a part of my charm.”

You didn’t look very amused in response.

The following mornings seemed to fit the same routine. Even on the days he didn’t have practice or meetings, Ethan would find himself waking up early and starting his day around the same time you would be up for work. He would be chatty, you would look like you wanted to gauge his eyes out. It was oddly comforting.

Somewhere in the middle of the second week of this fixed routine, he began to feel confident enough in watching your routine to know exactly what you needed the second you walked out your room.

“Good morning!”

You blinked, staring at the steaming mug he was currently offering you. It took you a few seconds to process the sight before you realised you hadn’t spoken.

“What’s this?” You questioned, a questioning look in your eyes.

“Coffee. Made exactly the way you like it.” Ethan stayed confidently, his grin widening as you took a sip and let out an appreciative hum.

“Thanks,” was all you said before shuffling around the kitchen to continue with the rest of his routine.

On the days he was in Jersey, there was always a coffee cup waiting for you every morning.

Two: you were always cold. Always. No matter what the temperature was outside.

In all honesty, Ethan didn’t get it at all. From what he had gathered in his conversations with you and what Luke told him, you had spent a fair chunk of your life in New Jersey so, if he was being honest, he thought you would have been somewhat used to the colder temperatures.

But walking into the apartment after afternoon practice to find you bundled on the couch like you were in a blizzard told Ethan that assumption was far from the truth.

“Did the heating break?” was the first thing he asked when he saw you, a wave of concern washing over him as he dumped his bags at the door and made his way to the thermostat.

“No,” you murmured from somewhere in the pile of blankets. “S’just cold.”

Ethan paused, reading the thermostat before turning back to you with an amused expression on his face. “It’s kinda warm for Jersey in October today.”

There was a bit of rustling before your head popped up from amongst the blankets, your eyes narrowed in accusation. “Not all of us are professional athletes sweating their asses off for two hours.”

“In an ice rink,” he added with a grin.

Your glare hardened.

“Do you want a hot water bottle?”

You paused for a few moments before nodding with a sheepish expression. “Please.”

Ethan huffed out a laugh before he made his way into the kitchen, kettle filled and turned on before he went to hunt down the hot water bottle he was pretty sure his mother had packed away somewhere in his stuff when he moved away from Michigan.

He returned a few minutes later, lightly nudging the pile of blankets until your face popped up again and your eyes softened at the hot water bottle. He couldn’t help but giggle at the way you quickly snatched it from him, murmuring your thanks as it disappeared under the blankets.

“Any time,” Ethan said, and he meant it.

Three: you really didn’t open up to strangers. Or roommates. Or anyone, really.

He wasn’t exactly sure how Luke Hughes of all people managed to wiggle his way into a friendship with you, but it was an anomaly that had been wracking his brain for the last few weeks.

It was a week or so before Halloween and he was laying on the couch, his brows furrowed together as he tried to scroll through the internet for an idea of what he could wear to the Halloween party one of the boys were hosting.

“Why do you look constipated?”

His head snapped up, finding you standing at the end of the couch. You had two smoothies in your hand, the bag you take to your classes still on your shoulder and your shoes still on. He briefly glanced at the time, frowning a little when he realised he had been sitting there for the better part of two hours before he turned back to you.

“Trying to figure out a last minute Halloween costume,” he told you, eyebrows raised in surprise as you handed him one of the smoothies. He smiled as he took it, taking an obnoxiously loud slurp before you settled down on the other side of the couch. “I wanted to do something with Seamus and Luke but Seamus said he had his sorted and Luke said he was doing a joint costume with someone else.”

“Oh yeah, me,” you answered casually and Ethan tried to hide his shock.

“You’re coming?”

“Yeah?” You responded, giving him an odd look. “Luke always invites me to these things. He’s also hopeless with costumes.”

“I didn’t realise you and Luke were so…close,” he said vaguely, his cheeks flushing a little when he realised what his words sounded like. “Not that it’s any of my business—”

“You’re right, it’s not.” You shrugged, taking a long sip from your smoothie before continuing. “But he’s one of my closest friends.”

Ethan nodded, ignoring the way his stomach twisted at your words. “How did you two meet?”

“The strip club.”

Ethan blanched.

“Geez, you’re more gullible than Luke,” you commented, the hint of a smile on your lips. “You ask a lot of questions, Edwards.”

“I’m a nosy person,” he answered honestly with a shrug. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Because there isn’t much to it.”

And, in your defence, he knew you didn’t owe him any answers. But he was curious and he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around how close you and Luke were—close enough for you to willingly accept one of Luke’s friends as your roommate for an indefinite amount of time.

And, at the crux of it, he didn’t understand how Luke was able to get through to you when he couldn’t.

Ethan was never one to brag but he was a magnet for people. It helped him thrive in hockey, always willing to be that guy on the team that people feel like they could always talk to. It helped him thrive at university, being a social butterfly that could always make a friend in any situation.

It usually helped.

So yeah, maybe Ethan was a little stumped why you didn’t seem to want to be his friend, not in the way you were with Luke and some of the other guys on the team. It seemed like being your roommate added a wall he didn’t know how to break down.

And when the Halloween party happened, it felt like seeing a whole new person when you were chatting and laughing with Luke.

You looked more at ease as you stood next to him, happily sipping on whatever drink he had gotten for you from the kitchen. You seemed more relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you laughed at whatever joke Curtis had made at Luke’s expense.

It fuelled a fire for Ethan, one he hadn’t realised had been started before that night. But he didn’t just want to be your roommate anymore, he didn’t like having that wall between you.

He wanted to be your friend too.

…

NOVEMBER

Three months into the NHL told Ethan that it was really no joke.

He was expecting the more intense training and physical playing. He was expecting his body to feel more tired, more hungry, more sore. He was expecting the ruthless journalists and vocal fans and tougher coaches.

He wasn’t expecting the mental toll of realising that hockey was all he had in his life.

It was stupid to complain about, considering it was his dream and all, but it was true. Hockey was his whole world right now. He woke up thinking about hockey, he went to the rink thinking about hockey, he made his dinner thinking about hockey, and then he went to sleep thinking about hockey.

Nine times out of ten, he dreamt about hockey too.

It was different to the hockey he knew growing up, or the hockey he experienced in Michigan. Because at least in Michigan, there were classes or parties or concerts or something to take his mind off hockey.

But it wasn’t the same in New Jersey.

There were hangouts with Luke and Seamus, or team bonding sessions organised by Nico. There were drinks at the bar after a good game to celebrate, or a particularly bad one they needed cheering up after. There were fun trips around cities he had never properly explored when they were away on roadies.

But it was all still linked to hockey.

And he guessed he wasn’t great at hiding his conundrum when Nico skated up beside him near the end of practice, throwing out the offer to grab a coffee and chat after they finished their debrief with the coaching staff.

For what it was worth, Nico didn’t think he sounded stupid when he explained himself. If anything, the captain was quite understanding.

“I had it when I first moved,” he had confessed as they sat in some urban coffee shop in a part of the city Ethan hadn’t properly explored before. But Nico swore up and down it had the best coffee to offer. “I was young and I was here for hockey so I thought my whole life had to be hockey.”

“What changed?” Ethan asked, hands wrapped around the big mug his latte was in like it would give him something to do, something to focus on rather than the restless itch under his skin.

“The older guys,” Nico said with a knowing smile. “The ones that learnt how to balance life and hockey. The ones with wives and families and friends outside of the team.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed together. “You think I should go get married?”

“Not right away,” Nico laughed, shaking his head. “But I know how easy it is to get wrapped up in the rookie year nonsense and everything. And you should be enjoying that, for sure. But there’s more to life than hockey, which is quite hard to believe right now. But it’s true, whether it’s a wife—or husband—and family or a hobby or a group of friends you can be a different Ethan with.”

Ethan nodded, a surprisingly serious expression on his face. “Hobbies?”

“Yeah, something different to hockey,” Nico explained. “Something that doesn’t require you to give up too much time and take your focus away from hockey, but instead be a respite from everything. Like cooking!”

He blinked. “Cooking?”

“You cook right now because you have to and you follow the diet plan the trainers give you. But you can find enjoyment in cooking because you want to,” Nico assured him, leaning back in his chair with a sure expression. “Give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

As it turns out, the worst that could happen is that Ethan is a fucking horrible cook.

He tried to hold back his coughs, waving the tea towel aimlessly under the beeping fire alarm before he raced to the windows in hopes they would help get rid of the smoke. Or at least get the alarm to stop.

The one meal outside of his diet plan and he almost burned the apartment complex down trying to cook it.

Go figure.

He had collapsed on the couch an hour later, two pizza boxes lying on the table in front of him as he aimlessly scrolled through his phone. He didn’t lift his head when he heard the front door lock turning but did freeze when he heard you cough a little.

“Fuck, why does it smell like a shitty barbeque in here?”

Ethan turned to you, a sheepish expression on his face as he lifted one of the pizza boxes as a peace offering. “Does pizza count as a ‘sorry for almost burning the place down’ gift?”

You eyed the pizza box and then his face before you took the seat next to him. “Normally I would say no but you look like you had a pretty rough time, so I’ll accept it this time.”

“Geez, thanks,” Ethan snorted.

“What were you even trying to cook anyways?” You questioned, taking a silence of margarita pizza and taking a large bite. You resisted the urge to let out a moan. “Fuck, I’m glad whatever it was. I couldn’t be bothered cooking today.”

“Rough shift?” Ethan asked.

“Bitchy manager was on tonight,” you added with a grumble.

“Fucking Jerry,” Ethan tsked, shaking his head.

You turned to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“I’m delaying. There’s a difference,” Ethan corrected.

You hummed. “Okay, so why are you delaying?”

Ethan shrugged, turning his attention to the pizza box open on the coffee table in front of him. “S’stupid, no big deal. Promise.”

You were silent for a few moments before you spoke. “Is this the point where I take the bait and beg for you to tell me why you’re upset?”

He snorted, but it at least wrangled a smile out of him. “I’m not stressed. Just…overwhelmed.”

“With hockey?” You asked, but there was no malice or teasing in your voice. Just curiosity.

“I know this is what I wanted but it’s just…so much. I’ve never had hockey be everything in my life, there was always something else. And now I feel like I’m drowning and no matter how much I keep kicking, I’m no closer to the surface. And the older guys seem so put together and I was trying to take their advice but it isn’t really working out and—” Ethan paused, his cheeks flushing a light pink colour when he realised he had begun rambling. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” you replied and he was almost shocked to see the sincerity on your face. “It’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed. It’s a big jump. It would be weirder if you weren’t more stressed.”

He swallowed. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you began, the pizza forgotten on the coffee table as you turned your body on the couch until you were facing him. “Your life will never be normal again. You’ve been shoved into the spotlight and you will continue to be there forever. That’s overwhelming as fuck. And you’re trying to catch up with a bunch of guys who have been here for years, who have had seasons to figure out who they are and who they want to be. It was always going to be an uphill battle.”

Something in his chest warmed at your understanding.

“Guess I have a lot to look forward to then, huh?” He tried joking because it felt easier than trying to say the words that were getting stuck in the back of his throat.

“I get it,” you explained with a small nod. “Not at the same level, but I get it. Every day I wake up and I know I’m working towards the thing I want to do for the rest of my life but, fuck, some days are just harder than others. I feel like I’m sacrificing so much of my ‘best years’ doing this and sometimes I just…wonder if it’s worth it.”

“That’s intense,” Ethan murmured with his lips turned downwards.

You gave him a sad smile. “Life can be overwhelming in a lot of ways. It’s just about finding things that help us…destress, I guess.”

“Which is hard to do when you’re a rookie in the NHL who doesn’t know who the fuck he is anymore or a student spending every free moment working her ass off in a shitty job with a shitty manager to pay for college,” Ethan added with a sorrowful smile of his own.

“Bingo,” you snorted.

“So,” Ethan sighed as he settled back against the couch. “What’s our game plan?”

You raised your brows. “Game plan?”

“Yeah, what are we gonna do to destress? We can help each other,” Ethan stated like it was obvious. “Like a ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ situation.”

You shot him a look. “I’m not scratching your back.”

Ethan tilted his head, a grin on his lips. “So I’m assuming massages are off the table too?”

His laugh echoed through the apartment as you threw a pillow at his face.

If Ethan was being completely honest, he didn’t think finding a destressing hobby would be so…stressful.

He had tried asking a few other guys on the team for inspiration and advice. It hadn’t been as successful as he had hoped. Though, at least he knew a handful of weird facts about the boys he played with, so it wasn’t completely useless. Team bonding and all that jazz.

But the hobby-searching was starting to reach a point where he thought about it more than hockey.

He couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong with him. So many of the guys on the team had shared the hobbies they had outside of hockey to help relax. He even spoke to some of the UMich boys that had joined the NHL before him for some advice too. But nothing really clicked, nothing shut his brain off.

Golfing was too time-consuming to enjoy during the regular season. The mediocre attempt at knitting resulted in a massive knotted ball of yarn being chucked into the bin. He tried reading but got bored after the first few chapters. And it felt a bit pathetic and mind-numbing (the bad kind) when he found himself watching the third episode in a row of some trashy reality TV show that had been playing.

Nothing was giving him that relief and that step away from the busy, hectic schedule an NHL player brought.

“You got a new potential hobby for us?”

Ethan lifted his head to see you closing the front door behind you, bundled in about five layers of clothing you were slowly deshedding before you made your way over to him. He watched as your eyes went to the mess on the coffee table, your lips pressed together to hold back your laugh.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, tilting your head like it would help you figure out the little project he had been working on since you left for your class a few hours ago.

“It’s meant to be a model plane,” Ethan sighed, a tad too dramatic before he turned to you with a pout on his face. “Johnny said it was easy. He used to do them when he was, like, ten years old. I think he is lying to me.”

You snorted. “Or maybe he followed the instructions.”

Ethan frowned. “There’s instructions?”

You shook your head, trying to hold back your laughs as you settled on the couch beside him. There was a hint of deja vu to that day a few weeks ago—the day Ethan likes to believe the start of your buddying friendship began.

“You’ll find something,” you reassured him, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“I think some of the guys are just messing with me with some of the hobbies they suggest,” Ethan confessed. “Curtis does not seem like a knitter at all.”

You laughed. “Yeah no, he was definitely messing with you.”

“Knew it,” Ethan grumbled before shrugging. “Seamus thinks I’m just being dramatic.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” you retorted.

He shot you a look but you didn’t seem too bothered by his glare.

“He thinks I just need to get laid,” Ethan murmured, his eyes settling back on the lump on the coffee table that was supposed to resemble a plane.

“So why don’t you?”

Ethan blinked as he turned back to you. “Why don’t I, what?”

“Why don’t you just go get laid?” You asked, turning your body slightly so you were properly facing him. “Are you a virgin?”

Ethan startled. “What? No. No, I’m not a virgin.”

“Then I can’t imagine it would be too difficult for you to find someone.”

“Thanks?” Ethan frowned a little before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, s’just a little much right now. I don’t really wanna go and sleep with anyone. And I’m a little too busy to properly start something with someone, you know? It wouldn’t be fair on them if I was…flaky.”

“What if we slept together?”

Ethan let out a choked noise of surprise.

You gave him an odd look. “What?”

“Us? Sleep together? Like sex?” Ethan blurted out, his voice a little more high pitched than usual.

“Well, I don’t mean just having a sleepover,” you answered with a shrug.

His brows furrowed together. “Would it not be…weird?”

“No, why would it be?” You retorted, sounding so sure of yourself. “I’m busy, you’re busy. I guess you’re attractive and if you find me attractive too, I don’t see what the issue is. It’s convenient for us both.”

His eyes narrowed. “You guess I’m attractive?”

“This is not the time for your ego,” you huffed, though he could see your lips twitching upwards.

“No no, this is the perfect time for my ego,” Ethan started, his back straightening as he sat up in his seat.

“Are you in or not?”

His eyes dropped down to your lips for a few moments before returning to your eyes. “Y-Yeah, I’m in.”

…

DECEMBER

As it would turn out, it was far from weird. It was actually pretty fucking great.

The awkward tension Ethan expected to rise from the first time you two slept together didn’t actually happen. The next day, everything was back to normal and, if it weren’t for the hickeys dotted over his torso, he would have assumed he dreamt the whole thing up.

It was surprisingly refreshing. The buddying friendship between you and Ethan continued to grow as the days passed, just like he wanted, there was just also the added bonus that sometimes the two of you fucked to let off some steam.

And as much as it pained him to say, Seamus was right. He just needed to get laid. He just needed to go back to something he knew he would always be good at, that didn’t take up too much space in his brain and felt as natural as breathing to him.

He just needed to feel someone else’s body pressed up against him, whispered moans of his name doing more to help shut up that voice in the back of his head far better than the crowds of fans screaming and chanting his name.

He was really missing out for all these with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing.

“Ethan.”

“Hm?”

“We can’t.”

“I think we can,” he murmured against your neck, his smile pressed against your skin as he placed a line of chaste kisses just below your jaw.

Your eyes fluttered close as his large hand splayed against your stomach, fingers brushing over your heated skin as he settled on the bed behind you. “You’re gonna miss your bus,” you managed to mutter out, a little breathless as you felt him rolling his hips against your ass.

“They won’t leave without me,” he assured you as he tugged you further back into him. Your panties had been kicked off somewhere under the sheets, not that either of you cared enough to give it a second thought. It just made it easier for Ethan to slip his hand between your legs, to listen to the choked noise of surprise you let out when his finger pressed on your clit.

“That’s not how it works,” you murmured, letting out a whine when he stilled his hand between your legs, focusing on marking the spot at the base of your neck that made your arch against him. “You’re gonna miss the bus and the team will be annoyed and you’re gonna—”

“Shhhh,” Ethan mumbled against your skin. “Too much talking.”

“Ethan.”

He let out a groan, his head dropping to your shoulder where he pressed a soft kiss there before lifting his head to shoot you a look.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmured with a snort. “It’s a seven day roadie. You’ll survive.”

“Maybe I’m really stressed about it,” he shot back. “Maybe a quickie before I leave would help me destress.”

You shook your head in amusement. “You’d be a lot less stressed if you weren’t thirty minutes late already.”

Ethan’s head snapped over to the clock on your bedside table. “Shit.”

“Told you so!” You called out as he scrambled his way towards the bathroom for the quickest shower of his life.

“Shut up!”

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?” Ethan questioned, leaning down to lace up his skates with the efficiency of a man who had spent the better part of his life in ice skates. He didn’t notice the shit-eating grin on Luke’s face until he sat back up and found the boy staring at him. “What?”

“Well, either the rats from your old apartment have found your new place and decided to take revenge or there’s a different reason for the marks on your back,” Luke retorted with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Marks are an understatement,” Seamus snorted, sitting on the stall on the other side of Ethan. He didn’t know what he did to deserve being stuck between the two of them. “Your back is mauled, dude. Who did you sleep with, a werewolf?”

“No,” Ethan scoffed, his cheeks burning red. “Don’t be jealous you can’t get the same reaction out of a girl.”

“So there’s a girl?” Luke chimed in, like the little nosey shit he was.

“Maybe,” Ethan answered vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just a casual thing. Nothing serious.”

“Glad you finally took my advice,” Seamus grinned.

Ethan rolled his eyes.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked.

To be fair, you and Ethan never discussed the logistics of your situation beyond the actual sex part. He enjoyed the little bubble the two of you shared in your apartment. It was like the two of you forgot there were other people, that the signs would be there for people to pick up on. And he wasn’t exactly sure if it was something you would want people to know, even Luke.

He tried to bargain with himself that it wasn’t serious so there was no need for Luke or the other boys to know. You two were just scratching an itch for each other, that’s it. You were still friends at the end of the day, he didn’t want to ruin that because other people thought there was something more serious.

Ethan shrugged. “Uh, you don’t know her.”

Luke cocked an eyebrow. “So surely it doesn’t matter if we know her name or not.”

“It’s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything,” Ethan retorted, squirming a little under Luke’s gaze. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? Coach wants us out in five minutes.”

“Subtlety is not your forte, Edwards,” Luke snorted in response.

The roadie ends up being a complete shit show.

Three games and they lost every single one of them. Three games and the loss just got worse with each game, with the final game being an embarrassing 5-1 loss. And all the boys were upset and annoyed about the results, but Ethan felt like he was going to lose his mind.

His suit felt uncomfortable and itchy against his body, like some foreign layer he desperately wanted to shed. His skin felt taut and stretched across his bones, the urge to claw at his skin so overwhelming that he forced himself to focus on picking the skin around his nails instead because it was less likely to get him odd looks from the other boys.

He had ignored Luke and Seamus’ attempts at pep-talks in the locker room, both boys seeming determined to try and reassure him the loss was not his fault—like it would stop the fumbled plays playing on a loop in his head. He watched Nico climb onto the bus, eyeing the empty seat next to him but he wasn’t in the mood to be babysat by his captain. He put his bag on the chair next to him and put his headphones on, pretending he couldn’t feel everyone’s eyes on him.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when they finally arrived back in New Jersey, but he didn’t care to know. He didn’t give anyone a chance to pull him back for a chat. He grabbed his bags and bolted to his car, wanting nothing more than to get out of his suit and just mope in his bed until practice in a few days.

Ethan wasn’t expecting for you to still be awake.

He jumped when he spotted you on the couch, the TV still on but on mute as it played some random sitcom he couldn’t quite remember the name of. His eyes wandered over your figure, huddled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket covering your legs and a Devils branded hoodie he didn’t quite know whether it was one of your own or one of his. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” you spoke up, breaking the weird, tense silence that seemed to be suffocating the apartment since he walked in.

“We left just after the game,” he replied, his voice a little raspy considering it was the first time he had spoken since the end of the game. “Boys wanted to get home.”

You nodded. “M’glad you’re back. The place is pretty quiet without you.”

It was lighthearted. It was an opening for him to plaster on a smile and pretend he was okay. It was a chance for him to escape the same awkward conversations he avoided from his teammates.

But he was tired—the bone deep kind—and he didn’t have it in himself to keep pretending. Not in front of you.

“I’m not sure I’m feeling very talkative right now,” he admitted, swallowing back the acidic taste in his mouth, the one that had been lingering since he stepped on the bus with all his disappointed teammates.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you reassured him as you patted the spot on the couch beside you. “We can just sit in absolute silence if you want.”

“I’m not sure I want that either,” he confessed as his body slumped against the couch, melting into the fabric as he tried to ignore the constant buzzing voices in his head. “Just wanna forget the last week, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you hummed in agreement. “The refs were biassed dicks anyways. It wasn’t fair.”

He turned his head to look at you, his surprise clearly expressed on his face. “You watched?”

“I did,” you gave him a soft smile. “It wasn’t a pretty sight. I’m surprised the neighbours didn’t make a noise complaint against me when they put Luke in the box.”

And despite himself, he couldn’t help but snort. “They had it out for him and Jack.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Dicks.”

His lips twitched upwards. “Dicks indeed.”

Ethan let his head fall back against the back of the couch, let the exhaustion settle in as his eyes fluttered shut and, for the first time in the last week, let himself have some semblance of relaxation even if his brain was still on overdrive.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” you started and his body instantly tensed up at your words. And maybe you would feel his body lock up, considering his thigh was pressed against yours and the couch wasn’t all that big either. “But I am here if you want to talk. Have someone who’s not on the team to listen to you.”

He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat. “Just feel like I let them down.”

“You didn’t,” your voice soft but sincere. “And I bet the boys would agree.”

“I just…” he let out a sigh, keeping his eyes closed because it somehow made the next few sentences easier to say out loud. “I know no one likes losing. I would be a pretty bad professional athlete if I liked losing. But, I don’t know, it just…sucks more now.”

“Because the stakes are higher?”

“Because there’s more people seeing my mistakes,” he murmured, his words short and sharp. “This is all unreal. Being able to live out my dream and play in the NHL. But every time I make a mistake, I just feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I’m waiting for someone to tell me it’s all a joke or I have been moved down or I get dropped and that’s the end of my career.”

There was a short pause.

“I’m scared it’s all gonna be for nothing.”

He wasn’t sure what response he expected. Truthfully, he had no intentions of ever telling you any of this. Or anyone for that matter. He had no intentions of ever saying the words out loud, letting them fester and swirl around in the back of his mind when he was left with his thoughts alone for too long.

And yet, he had just blurted them out to you.

Maybe he was more tired than he realised.

“Why did you keep playing hockey?”

Ethan frowned a little, his eyes blinking back open as he turned to look at you again. “What?”

“Why did you keep playing hockey?” You asked again, something swirling in your eyes but he couldn’t quite work out what. “It’s one thing to be a fan. You’re Canadian so I guess you kinda have to be. And I assume your parents put you into lessons. But why did you keep up with it? Why did you keep playing?”

“Because I love the sport,” he answered without any hesitation.

“Exactly, you love the sport,” you repeated with a soft smile on your lips. “It’s why you stayed. It’s why you play the next game even if you lost the last one. It’s why it’s your dream, why you kept working towards the NHL. And even after the shit show of the roadie, it’s why you will go out and play the next game.”

Ethan stayed silent but he didn’t move his eyes away from yours.

“It’s normal to have doubts. It’s normal to second guess yourself and assume the worst and let yourself spiral,” you continued. “It’s your rookie year. It isn’t easy for anyone. It wasn’t easy for Luke, for Seamus, for any of the boys. But you love the sport and the sport loved you back. Even on the bad days.”

“That was poetic,” he murmured, his voice a little raspy and thick with emotion.

“I was great at English in school,” you retorted with a grin. “You’re allowed to feel scared. And you’re allowed to be upset after you lose. But you’re a part of the team, nobody is putting the loss on your shoulders and you shouldn’t either. It’s your weight to bear together.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Did Nico message you?”

You snorted, and something about the sound made his chest tighten. In a good way, though.

“No, but considering how fast you got here, I would be wary that he will probably show up tomorrow morning to take you for a coffee check up,” you murmured. “Or he will corner you in the locker room.”

Ethan nodded. “Thank you. For listening and stuff.”

You flashed him a smile as you nudged his shoulder with your own. “That’s what friends are for.”

It was almost ironic that Ethan had spent the last few months working towards the title of your friend, only to feel almost disappointed when you said it.

Nico had been the one to organise the New Years Party.

All the boys from the team were there. There were other Devils employees from the marketing, media and training teams. There were friends and friends-of-friends. There were people he had never met before.

But it was a party and the buzz of the new year was humming through them all, and somewhere amongst it all, someone had suggested a game of truth or dare.

Ethan thinks it was Curtis, who was just drunk and nosy and a bit bored.

“Right, Baby Hughes, you gotta pick!”

Luke let out a groan, slumping into the person next to him—a chuckling John Marino who seemed amused by the glint in Curtis’ eyes—before nodding. “I feel targeted.”

Curtis grinned. “Never.”

“You’ve asked me every single time,” Luke grumbled under his breath, cheeks tinted pink and warm. “Surely this is against the rules. Right, Cap?”

Nico raised his hands in surrender. “Do not drag me into this!”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “So much for looking out for your boys.”

“Pick someone else before he starts getting whiny,” Jack called out, grinning widely as he dodged Luke’s elbow to his side. “I don’t wanna hear him bitching on the way back home.”

“Fine, fine,” Curtis snorted, eyes scanning over the busy room before his eyes paused on Ethan. “Alright, Edwards, rookie’s turn. Truth or dare.”

Ethan straightened a little, something determined in his eyes. “Truth,” he answered with a grin. “I’ve been warned of your dares.”

“Smart,” Jesper coughed under his breath.

“Truth, he says,” Curtis mused as he sat back in his seat, contemplative and cunning before he spoke again.

“Play nice,” Nico teased.

“Cap’s orders,” Curtis hummed before he spoke. “Alright then, rookie, fess up. Which teammate is your least favourite? Name and shame.”

Ethan blinked. “This feels like a trap.”

“Oh, it certainly is,” Ondrej snorted.

“Don’t take him seriously,” Luke spoke up, leaning his head back to catch Ethan’s gaze. “He did the same to me and Simon. And Seamus last year. It’s his thing.”

Ethan raised his brows. “Is there a right answer?”

“Hey, no cheating!” Curtis called out.

“Maybe my answer is you,” Ethan called back teasingly.

“Oh, pretty boy has some fire,” the older man laughed, happily and drunkenly but it seemed enough to satisfy him before Nico was rounding everyone around for the midnight countdown.

The funny thing was that Ethan always knew that hockey was a team sport and every team he had ever played on—from the peewee team he played on as a kid to the boys he played with in UMich—every single one of them felt like a family, a place where he belonged and a team he loved both on and off ice.

The Devils had been another one of those teams—his newest family. It had been terrifying, a lingering thought in the back of his head since he had been drafted. Every team he played for before were teams he would move on from, stepping stones in his dreams. But the NHL was at the top and he didn’t want to fuck that up. He didn’t want to feel left out from his new family.

The Devils family had welcomed him with open arms.

He truly couldn’t complain. He felt a connection with these boys on and off the ice, he felt like the newest member in this patchwork family that was really cared for. Even now, as the seconds ticked down to midnight, there was warmth and camaraderie in the air as they welcomed the new year.

And yet, it was the most devastating loneliness he had ever felt in his life.

Because the clock struck twelve and the cheers echoed through the house and yet, his eyes were searching in the crowd of people. Searching for the one person he wanted by his side. Searching for the first person he has ever had the urge to kiss into the new year.

Because Ethan Edwards spent breaking in the new year wishing he was beside you.

…

JANUARY

New Years opened his eyes in ways that he hadn’t really considered before.

Unfortunately, eye opening nights are a bit difficult to focus on when you’re a professional athlete in the NHL hitting January in your rookie year. Because they were only half way through the regular season in one of the most physically and mentally intense years of his life, and he was a bit too fucking tired to have emotional epiphanies.

Which was fine if it weren’t for the fact he was currently in the middle of drills and his brain was definitely not focused on hockey.

“Edwards!”

Ethan blinked, his body moving before his brain could properly catch up. He had never been more grateful for the military-routine of drills he had been doing for as long as he had been skating.

His muscles were screaming by the time the boys were starting to head back into the locker room, laughing and shoving each other and discussing strategies for the game against the Sabres the following day. But he lingered behind, stick twisting in his hand as he tapped a few pucks closer to the net.

He had tried not to stare at the person lingering on the ice behind him, watching him, observing him.

He managed five shots before the person spoke up.

“You should lower your right hand a little,” Jack called out, lingering at the blue line. “It will help with the shot.”

His next shot hit the back corner perfectly.

Ethan straightened his back, nodding a little before glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Jack responded, taking it as his cue to skate closer towards him. “You good? You should be getting some rest before the game tomorrow.”

“Yeah, just…wanted some extra practice on my shots,” Ethan said, shrugging his shoulders. “It needs some work.”

Jack nodded. “You’re having a good year.”

“Could be better,” Ethan retorted before he could stop himself. It was meant to be lighthearted, playful even. Instead, it came out a little self-deprecating and he winced at himself.

“It gets better,” Jack assured him, his expression a little softer. “The rookie year is always the worst, the media attention and expectations and everything. But it gets better when you find yourself, find your footing.”

“I know,” he murmured because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Nobody really talked about Jack’s rookie year. Not in much detail, not beyond a few comments here and there he had heard over the years in the lakehouse.

He was more than grateful that his own rookie year wasn’t anything like Jack’s.

“Enjoy it,” Jack continued, a kind expression on his face. It wasn’t hard to work out why Jack was given the ‘A’ on his jersey. “I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t let the critics get to you too much. They just wanna put pressure on you, make you squirm.”

And oh.

Because now Ethan was standing there, staring back at Jack like a hopeless idiot, realising he and the rest of the boys probably assumed his mood had been related to hockey. To the articles written about him. To the most likely and very reasonable explanation.

Not the fact Ethan was pretty sure he liked his friends-with-benefits roommate in a not very friends-with-benefits way.

His cheeks burned at the realisation.

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded helplessly, hoping his smile didn’t look as strained as it felt. “No, you’re right. I…I’ll try to really enjoy it. Not get in my own head too much.”

“Good,” Jack smiled back at him, all sweet and genuine and making him feel like a bit of a dick. “I’m here if you ever need a chat, you know? And I’m better at giving advice than Luke.”

Ethan snorted. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

The issue was that despite his eye-opening realisation, Ethan Edwards quickly realised he was a bit of a coward when it came to expressing his feelings.

Or, for that matter, confronting them.

It was odd for Ethan, if he was being completely honest with himself. Because he was usually good with these kinds of things. He knew when it was a ‘no strings attached’ situation, when to remove himself from any feelings that would compliment the matter. And he knew when it was serious, when the feelings were reciprocated, when there was something more than physical between him and the other person.

But that awareness was thrown out the window when it came to you.

It was like he had a little voice in his head, desperately trying to yell out how he felt about you until Ethan reached his breaking point and did something he couldn’t take back.

So, he did what any reasonable person did and locked that little voice away, pushed it to the back of his mind where it couldn’t bother him. And then he continued living his life like he couldn’t hear the rattling box in the background of every waking moment.

It was easy with hockey. Despite his little blip at the start of the month, he managed to prevent the annoying voice affecting his game on the ice. He stayed focused and concentrated and attentive. He managed to complete his drills and find the passes and shoot some goals so none of his teammates would catch on to his lacking grasp on his feelings.

But at home? With you? He clearly wasn’t coping as well as he thought he was.

“Are you okay?”

Ethan paused, body frozen as his brain wracked through a million different thoughts before he turned to look where you were sitting on the couch.

“Uh yeah,” he managed to blurt out, a slightly strained laugh following. “Why?”

“You’ve just seemed off the last few weeks,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like, tense and stuff.”

“S’just hockey stuff,” Ethan murmured with a stiff smile, the lie tasting bitter and acidic on his tongue. “The boys have just been talking about how playoffs are sneaking up on us and I just…guess I’ve been a little in my own head about it.”

You nodded in understanding. “You need days to chill out, you know? Take your mind off hockey.”

Ethan raised his brows. “You got any suggestions, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you retorted with a knowing smile. “I do. I know exactly what you need to get out of your head.”

“You know, when you crawled onto my lap, I was expecting a very different outcome,” Ethan murmured, struggling not to move his lips too much as he focused on the concentrating expression on your face.

“Need to get your head out of the gutter, Edwards,” you teased, biting back your smile as you continued to sweep the brush across his face, careful to avoid his eyebrows while you were at it. “Facemasks are soothing and relaxing. Plus, your skin probably needs it after all the travelling you do.”

“Excuse you,” his nose scrunched. “I have a skincare routine.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, Luke told me that you ripped into Seamus after he used your fancy moisturiser.”

“It’s expensive,” he murmured in defence before the rest of your words caught up on him. “You talk about me to Luke?”

“Mostly to bitch,” you said with a lighthearted, teasing smile.

Yet, something in his chest tightened at the idea regardless.

“As long as you’re talking about me,” he shot back, something victorious washing over him at the way you laughed.

You leaned back a little, still sat on his lap with his hands on your waist to keep you balanced. You snorted at the mask covering his face before grinning. “Now, we have to keep these on for twenty minutes. And try not to move your face too much.”

Ethan ignored your words, pouting in response. “So if I asked you to make out—”

“I would tell you to fat chance,” you finished with a grin. “But I’ll admit the pink headband is really working for you.”

Ethan wiggled his eyebrows, once against ignoring the pointed look you shot him. “Enough for a kiss?”

“Enough for an episode of Pretty Little Liars,” you shot back at him, your smile widening at the sound of his groan but it still didn’t stop him from tugging you close before you could sit on the other side of the couch. “Or at least finish the one we started last night before—”

“I rocked your world?”

“Started drooling on my shoulder,” you corrected.

“That was after I made you come twice,” Ethan piped up, lightly pinching your side until you squirmed further onto his lap. “They cancel each other out.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” you snorted, eyes gleaming as you pressed play on the remote before he could come up with a witty comeback.

And, somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a distant voice screaming at him to say something. Telling him this was the perfect opportunity to say something to you. To just admit how he was feeling and end the pathetic pining he had been experiencing for the last few weeks.

But the mere idea of losing this—losing you—kept his mouth shut as he finally turned his attention to the tv and pretended like his stomach didn’t twist at his own cowardice.

…

FEBRUARY

Before he knew it, they were hitting February and all the buzz in the hockey world was around All Stars.

Ethan hadn’t been too concerned about it or the discussions leading up to the reveal on which team members would be heading out for the event. His mind had been preoccupied on the season, on playoffs approaching, on you. In all honesty, All Stars hadn’t even crossed his mind until the team was being rounded up into the locker room for the announcement.

It was not too much of a surprise that Luke had been selected for the Devils (most people expected it to be one of the Hughes brothers).

However, it was a shock to hear his own name follow.

“Looks like the fans want to see more of the pretty boy,” Curtis called out, joking and teasing and, yet, it still made his cheeks burn as the boys all slapped him on the back.

“Baby’s first All Stars,” Timo cooed jokingly, reaching out to pinch his cheek but Ethan was quick to slap his hand away.

“It’s Luke’s first too,” he defended weakly, a smile on his lips as he spoke.

“At least he is losing one of his virginities,” Seamus coughed under his breath, letting out a high-pitched yelp when the younger Hughes reached to smack him across the back of his head.

“I hope you get a horrible sunburn in Mexico,” Luke retorted with a deadpan expression.

Seamus snorted. “Don’t get bitchy because your ticket is non-refundable.”

Luke reached out to slap him again but he had already run off towards the showers, laughing and shoving some of the other boys into Luke’s path to help with his escape.

Ethan shook his head in amusement.

“Enjoy it,” another voice spoke up and he turned to find Nico standing beside his stall, a kind and genuine smile on his face as he patted his shoulder. “It’s fun. Promise.”

“More fun than chilling on a beach somewhere?” Ethan retorted with a knowing smile.

“It’s up there,” Nico grinned.

“But if Michael Buble offers you anything, say no,” Jack spoke up from the other side of the locker room. “Trust me.”

“How does it feel to be with all the big boys?”

“You saying I’m not a big boy?”

“You know exactly what I meant, perv.”

It was true. Ethan knew exactly what you meant. But he could almost imagine the way you rolled your eyes when you spoke, your nose scrunched up and your eyebrows furrowed and it sent a pang of something aching through him.

It was almost too pathetic to comprehend.

All Stars was insane. Truly, absolutely, positively insane. It was one thing to watch it from the comfort of his own couch. It was a whole other thing to be a part of it. And he knew he shouldn’t be starstruck, not really. He had spent the better part of the last few months playing against some of these guys.

But being in a not-as-competitive setting with the likes of Sidney Crosby and Nathan MacKinnon was a surreal experience he hadn’t fully wrapped his head around since he arrived.

And yet, here he was, all smiley and giddy and excited over the fact you had called him. The fact that you missed him enough, that you were thinking about him enough to call him whilst he was away.

“I stand by my question,” Ethan replied, shuffling further back into the plush pillows of his hotel bed as he held his phone to his ear. “Do you not think I’m a big boy?”

“I’m not going to talk up your dick size for the sake of your ego, Edwards.”

Ethan snorted despite himself. “Worth a shot. Could have made it really hot.”

“I refuse to have phone sex with you when Luke is probably in the room.”

“He’s not here,” Ethan said quickly, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Well, he’s gone out to grab us some snacks from the store around the corner but—”

“Exactly.” His stomach dipped a little as your laugh echoed through the phone. “Now, tell me everything.”

For a moment he wondered if it would be worth trying to facetime you to see your face or if that was pushing it too far.

“What do you want to know?” He retorted, his eyes closing shut as he tried to imagine the expression on your face as you thought.

“I don’t know! The important stuff! Like if Sidney Crosby is as hot in real life?”

Ethan blinked. “That’s your big question? If he’s as hot as he is on screen?”

Your reply came with no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Wow, so we can’t talk about my dick, which has been inside of you by the way, but we can talk about whether or not Sidney Crosby is hot.” There was a pause before he sighed. “Yeah, he is. Maybe even hotter.”

“I fucking knew it.”

“So you don’t even miss me? Not even a little bit?” Ethan questioned, trying to sound playful and lighthearted, hoping the small slivers of insecurity weren’t being translated through the phone.

“Don’t start pouting on me, Edwards. Of course I miss you.” Your voice was softer, more sincere. Or at least he was deluding himself into thinking as much. “Found a show for us to watch when you’re back. It looked good but I didn’t want to start it alone.”

It was embarrassing how big his smile was. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hummed before gasping. “Oh god, I almost forgot to tell you. You won’t believe what happened at work the other night.”

Ethan huffed. “Don’t tell me it was—”

“Yup! And you’ll never guess what she did—”

It hit Ethan in the chest when he was lying on the foreign bed in a non-descriptive hotel room, phone pressed against his ear as you rambled away. It hit him just how much he enjoyed this, how much he enjoyed you. That it was beyond the physical attraction, that it was much deeper than a silly little crush.

It hit him how much he wanted this forever.

But he knew better to do it on the phone. He knew it had to be said face-to-face. He knew he needed you in front of him when he uttered the words. He knew he needed to be looking in your eyes when he blurted his feelings out.

So, he promised himself.

He promised himself he would do it when he headed back to New Jersey. He promised himself he would do it when he saw you. He promised himself he was just going to deal with it head on and not run away like he had been doing for the last month or two.

He promised he was not going to be a coward anymore.

It was embarrassing how quickly he threw his own promise out of the window.

Ethan was fucking exhausted by the time their plane laned back in New Jersey. It was barely even eight in the evening and he was ready to slump face first onto his bed and not get up for a few days—even if he knew they had practice the following afternoon.

But it was the principle of it all.

It was the mere exhaustion of it all.

And you took one look at him before you opened your arms, inviting him to join you on the couch. Ethan couldn’t even bring himself to feel too bad about the groan you let out as he slumped himself on top of you.

“Make sure they had good music at my funeral,” he grumbled, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck and his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke.

You hummed, your hands moving on instinct to run your fingers through his hair. “How do you feel about Barbie Girl?”

“Love it,” he murmured, a soft groan leaving his lips as your nails scratched along his scalp. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too, Edwards,” you whispered, soft and almost breathless. He wondered for a moment if he was leaning too heavily on your chest and winding you. “I never knew you talked in your sleep.”

Ethan froze.

“Luke sent me some interesting videos,” you continued and he could almost hear the smile in your voice. “You should really watch who you have sleepovers with.”

Ethan clenched his eyes shut, trying to nuzzle himself further into your neck. “M’gonna kill him.”

“It was just one video,” you assured him, lightly tugging his hair until he lifted his head to look at you. “Cute that you were so jealous over me liking Sidney that you started to sleep talking about it.”

His cheeks heated up. “I wasn’t jealous.”

You beamed back at him. “Uh huh, sure.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes at you. “This is emotional blackmail.”

“Aw, don’t let me stop you from doing it again,” you teased, unable to hide your amusement as his cheeks burned redder. “Would it make you feel better if I said I was jealous you got to hang around him all week?”

Ethan paused before he spoke. “Yes.”

You nodded. “Then, I was deeply jealous and envious that you got to hang around Sidney Crosby, the hottest guy in the league—”

“Oh my god,” Ethan groaned as he braced his hands on either side of you, prepared to push himself off you and the couch and sulk in his room. But before he could get far, you were winding your arms and legs around him and pulling him back down. “Nuh uh, let me go. You can go cuddle with Sidney since you think he’s so hot.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you mused, choosing to be nice and not comment on the way he completely nuzzled himself back into your arms, eyes falling shut and relaxation taking over his body for the first time in a week.

“You’re a bully,” he retorted, words muffled from the way his cheek was pressed against your shoulder.

“You like it,” you retorted, keeping the banter going but it made Ethan’s head spin.

Because he did. He did like it. He liked you. He liked coming back home to you and he liked lying on the couch with you. He liked kissing you and he liked the noises you made for him when he touched you.

He liked you more than he cared to admit.

He liked you too much to lose you.

He liked what the two of you had. He liked it too much to risk losing it all over unreciprocated feelings. Feelings could change—his feelings could change. There was no need to ruin a good thing.

He had hockey to focus on. He had the team to focus on. He had playoffs to focus on.

Now was not the time to change everything, superstitions or not.

…

MARCH

March Madness was no joke.

It was pure fucking chaos and no previous league or championship he had ever played for could rival just how hectic the whole thing was. The Devils were having a good season. A great fucking season if they were being honest. And they were so, so, so fucking close to clinching that playoff spot.

But fuck if the other teams weren’t making it real fucking difficult for them.

Ethan knew that things were going to get rougher, tougher, harder when the playoff desperation started to settle in, when the end of the regular season was on the horizon and teams were starting to get dirty to extend their season.

He just underestimated how desperate they were willing to get.

It was easy to see why Nico Hishcier was so beloved by the team, by the fans, by the boys. To see why he was chosen as captain because he was nothing but supportive and determined and encouraging. He wasn’t letting them get too comfortable, he was keeping the boys working towards playing their best.

But he was also the damn proudest of them all.

It almost made the hits against the boards worth it.

Almost being the operative word seeing as he felt like his whole body was bruised as they came off a game against the Rangers.

“Fuck,” Ethan hissed as he all but waddled into the locker room, helmet in hand and skateguards on. “I think I’m bruised in places I didn’t know you could be bruised.”

Seamus snorted. “Fucking tell me about it.”

“The hit during the second period looked rough,” Luke spoke up from the stall beside him. “You sure you’re good?”

“Medical checked me over during the intermission,” Ethan assured him with a faint smile. “Just gonna be sore for the next few days.”

Luke’s eyes gleamed. “No strenuous activities then?”

Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Oh please,” Seamus mused, giving Luke a nudge with his elbow. “He’s a pillow princess.”

“Fuck off both of you,” Ethan snorted, already starting to peel his jersey off.

It wasn’t until he was almost dressed where he finally grabbed his phone out of his bag, turning it back on to see a flurry of notifications to take over his screen. His brows furrowed together in surprise as he skimmed over them.

“Is that a certain roommate?” Luke asked, peeking over his shoulder like the nosy shit he was but Ethan had already chucked his phone back in his bag.

“Nah, it’s just Patricia,” Ethan shrugged.

Luke blinked. “Who the fuck is Patricia?”

Ethan shot him an odd look. “Patricia, the woman from the estate agency you recommended to me.”

Luke gave him a pensive look. “Why is she blowing up your phone?”

Ethan shrugged again. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

As it would turn out, Patricia was contacting him because the apartment he originally signed on for at the start of the year seemed to have sorted the rat infestation problem.

She was cheery in her voicemail she left for him, like it was the best possible news Ethan could have ever received. And maybe it would have been a few months ago, back in September. Even a good few weeks into October, Ethan would have been over the fucking moon to hear his old apartment was available again.

Yet, as he listened to the voicemail now, he couldn’t help but let a sense of dread wash over him.

It was stupid in a way because he knew from the start his situation wasn’t permanent. He knew it was always a short-term solution to a short-term problem. He knew the arrangement between you both wouldn’t last forever—both as roommates and friends with benefits.

There was always a timer on it, but Ethan let himself get lost in the familiarity of it all that the upcoming ending hit him like an unexpected slap in the face.

If he was a sensible and good guy, he would have called Patricia back. He would have told her he was just as happy to hear the update on the previously rat infested apartment. He would have told her he was happy to move in as soon as he can, to have his own place in New Jersey to call his home and his home alone. He would have told her to send over all the paperwork as soon as she can.

But Ethan wasn’t sensible nor was he all that good because he never called her back.

Instead, he chose to pretend as though he hadn’t seen the calls or the voicemails or the messages. He told himself he was focusing on clinching a playoff spot. He told himself he was just prioritising the important stuff and, for as long as he had a roof over his head, the other apartment wasn’t a priority.

Ethan chose not to acknowledge the fact that ignoring and running away from any possible problem was becoming a bit of an odd habit for him over the last few months.

As it would turn out, people failed to warn Ethan that March Madness seemed to extend into a player’s personal life.

He couldn’t quite work out the exact moment everything changed but he noticed the switch two weeks into March. And he was fucking baffled. And almost embarrassed that it took him so long to catch on to your sudden cold behaviour.

If you were giving him the cold shoulder, Ethan would have assumed he had done something to piss you off. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done it before, the two of you had your fair share of petty roommate disagreements over the months where one of you would give the other silent treatment. But it never lasted more than an hour or so before you sat down and talked it out.

Ethan would have preferred if he was just given the silent treatment from you.

Instead, he got…whatever the hell you were doing now.

For a few days, Ethan considered that he was just being dramatic. That maybe it was something at work or in one of your classes. That eventually you’d come to him with whatever was bothering you and he would listen and this weird tension between the two of you would disappear.

He lost hope in that theory after a week.

You were talking to him, almost as normal, but there was a tinge to it. A shift. Almost like a step back. It felt like the early months as roommates, when your answers were shorter more often than not, when you treated each other as acquaintances with a mutual friend.

It felt fucking wrong.

And then there was the physical aspect.

It wasn’t like the two of you were on each other at every possible moment together. It wasn’t even about the sex. It was the way you pulled away from him like his touch burned you, like it was odd for him to casually nudge your hip with his own as he walked past you in the kitchen. It was the way you seemed to avoid sitting too close to him on the couch.

It was the way it felt like the two of you were reverting back to the awkward, polite strangers you were back in September.

He hated it but he didn’t know how to get it back when you seemed so adamant to keep him at arm’s length.

It was disorienting as fuck.

It was wrong.

It was everything he feared for.

It was almost-definitely-possibly worse than you rejecting him.

And Ethan felt like he was fucking spiralling with the realisation that he may have lost you and he wasn’t exactly sure how.

And just when Ethan craved normalcy in his life, Luke started acting weird too.

The youngest Hughes brother shut down any attempts to hang out outside of practice or training. He didn’t seem as talkative or chatty with Ethan the way he usually was, leaving most of their conversations to surround hockey or strategies or upcoming games.

Fuck, even Seamus was weirded out by Luke’s sudden change in behaviour.

It didn’t take long for the other boys in the team to notice the growing tension between the two boys. Jack kept shooting his brother weird looks. Nico seemed concerned. Even Curtis looked a bit awkward and unsure at what to say. Him, Luke and Seamus had been such a trio since Ethan joined the Devils at the start of the season.

Now it seemed like Luke tolerated him at best.

But Ethan knew Luke. He knew the way the boy would get when he was upset. He knew the way the boy tended to shut down a bit, knew that he needed the space to be moody and brood a little (the outcome of being the youngest child) before he was ready to forgive and forget and move on.

However, Luke Hughes seemed more than happy to carry out whatever grudge he was holding—even if it was affecting their game on the ice.

“What the fuck was that?”

Luke didn’t even bother turning to look at him, reaching to pull his practice jersey over his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For fuck’s sake, Luke,” Ethan growled, angry and frustrated and done with whatever bitchy mood he was still in. “I was open. You saw that I was open and you fucking ignored me. What if we were in a game? What if that cost us a goal?”

“It’s just a practice,” Luke shot back, deadpan and unamused. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down?!” Ethan laughed, bitter and irritated. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Luke. I don’t know what your problem with me is but it’s fucking ridiculous if you’re willing to sacrifice the team for it.”

Seamus took a step towards them. “Okay, maybe we just need—”

“No,” Ethan snapped, a buzz of adrenaline rushing through him. “No, if he has a problem with me then I want him to fucking say it instead of keeping it some secret like—some coward!”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Luke snapped back at him. “You know all about secrets, Edwards.”

His brows furrowed together. “Stop fucking talking in riddles, Hughes.”

“Oh Jesus,” Seamus grumbled under his breath.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Luke hissed.

“No, I don’t!” Ethan gritted out. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about!”

“And I don’t know who the fuck you are anymore!” Luke bit back, enough hurt and anger in his voice that it left Ethan—and the rest of the locker room—silent. “I thought you were one of my closest friends. I thought you were a good guy. Clearly you’ve changed.”

Ethan frowned. “What?”

“Okay, everyone out!” Nico clapped his hands together, snapping Luke and Ethan out of their little moment as the captain began shepherding the rest of the team out.

“Aw, come on, it was just getting good!” Curtis whined but sighed as he followed the rest of the boys out of the locker room, all in various degrees of undress as they left Ethan and Luke alone.

Ethan watched them all go before he turned back to Luke, a look of hurt and pure confusion on his face.

“I helped you out,” Luke rasped, swallowing harshly. His voice was softer, a little raw too. Like the fight had left him and all that was left was disappointment. “You needed a place to stay and I convinced her to let you stay, vouched that you were a good guy, that you weren’t a fucking douche, and you had to go and fucking play her like that.”

Ethan blinked. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Ethan,” Luke muttered, his name full of frustration. “I know about the two of you. I’ve known for a while, I’m not fucking stupid.”

His heart sped up a little, despite himself. “What does our…agreement have to do with you?”

Luke shot him a look of disbelief. “Because she’s my friend! Because you’ve strung her along for months and now you don’t even have the decency to tell her you’re leaving!”

Ethan blinked again. “I—what?”

“You’re moving back to your own place and you—why do you look so confused?”

“Because I am confused!” Ethan squeaked out.

Luke slowly blinked. “So…you’re not taking Patricia up on her offer and moving out?”

“No!” Ethan replied, still looking confused. “Why would you think I am?”

“Because she keeps calling and emailing you!” Luke shot back.

“And I haven’t answered a single one!” Ethan retorted.

“Huh,” Luke murmured, his mind whirling with a million different thoughts. “Well, her emails suggest otherwise.”

Ethan tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I—” Luke sighed, looking serious once again. “I need you to be honest with me.”

Ethan shifted in his spot. “What?”

“Are you serious about her?” Luke questioned.

Ethan frowned. “Who? Patricia?”

“I—no,” Luke sighed deeply. “Unless you’ve been sleeping with Patricia this whole time—”

“What? No, no!” Ethan spluttered out. “I have—wait, does she think I’m moving out?”

Luke looked a bit sheepish. “I think you need to go have that conversation with her.”

“Fuck,” Ethan breathed out, something quite like nausea twisting in his stomach. “And she….I’m not….I would never play her like that. It’s literally the opposite!”

Luke raised his brow. “The opposite?”

“I—fuck, I need to go,” Ethan muttered to himself under his breath, not even acknowledging the other boy as he began to yank his gear off.

“Woah, Ethan, you need to—”

“I need to fix this,” Ethan interrupted. “She can’t—I need to tell her.”

The last thing Luke—or any of the boys—saw was Ethan rushing out of the locker room, looking frazzled and flustered and panicked.

Ethan wished he could say he was calm and collected when he finally made it to your shared apartment but that would be a fucking lie.

He was a mess when he arrived. Despite driving back, he was still breathless and panting as he forgoed the elevator, choosing to take the stairs two-at-a-time until he reached your floor. His hair was a mess, his cheeks were flushed, his keys were the only thing in his possession as he raced towards the door. He wasn’t even sure where his phone was. Nor did he care.

His only goal was to get to you.

It was embarrassing how badly his hands were shaking as he tried to shove the key into the lock, taking more attempts than he cared to admit before he managed to open the door. He didn’t even care about your neighbours as he began calling out your name, praying to every god he could think of that you were home.

He could have collapsed from relief when you wandered out of your room, a mixed look of concern and confusion on your face when you spotted him standing in the living room.

“Are you okay?”

Ethan tried to find the words to answer you. He tried to wrack his brain for a response to your question, a coherent sentence to calm the clear uneasiness in your voice. And yet, all he could do was stare at you and think one single thought that was leaving his lips before he could even stop himself.

“I’m in love with you!”

You blinked in response.

“Like, so painfully in love with you that I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone. But it is. And I do. And I can’t keep it to myself anymore because I think I am genuinely going insane,” Ethan continued.

Your lips parted a little in surprise, but still no words left your mouth.

“And I should probably stop talking and embarrassing myself further because you’re not saying anything and I’m usually a lot better at these kinds of things,” Ethan blurted out. “But you’ve been pulling away the last few weeks and I can’t take it anymore because it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I have to keep pretending I’m fine with everything when I’m not.”

His body was moving before he could stop himself. He was taking steps forward, closing the small distance between you two because Ethan couldn’t stop the pull you had on him—on his body, his mind, his whole fucking world.

“I’m in love with you. Like in a ‘I wanna come home to you every night and kiss you because we are dating’ kind of way, not a ‘we are roommates who made up this weird agreement’ way.” Ethan breathed out, his voice just above a whisper but you heard him loud and clear. “And I don’t expect you to say you feel the same way but I can’t keep it anymore and—”

He was cut off by you throwing yourself at him, arms winding around his neck and lips on his. He didn’t even care about the rest of his sentence, sinking into the kiss like a starved man eating for the first time. The relief of feeling your body pressed against his was almost as addicting as the adrenaline pumping through his veins when you let out a blissful sigh.

“M’not moving out,” he managed to mutter out between kisses as he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you tight against him. “Whatever you think—”

You pulled away a few inches, just enough to see his face. “Your laptop was open,” you murmured, something sheepish and guilty written across your face. “And the email came through from your estate agent about signing a new lease and I got in my own head about it. I thought you were going to leave and I wanted to protect myself from falling further and—”

“Falling further?” He repeated, a hopeful smile beginning to take over his face.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your smile mirroring his. “Turns out sleeping with your roommate is a real catalyst for falling in love with him.”

“Lucky me,” Ethan murmured before leaning back in to kiss you. “And I’m not leaving until you want me to leave.”

“We’ve really gone through this relationship thing in a weird order, huh?” You mused, laughing a little when Ethan kept leaning in to kiss you.

“Yeah but I think it’s worked out pretty well for us,” he murmured, his nose playfully nudging yours.

Ethan Edwards thought he was prepared for his rookie year.

He wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Nobody ever was, not really. He wasn’t fully prepared to fall in love either.

But with you in his arms and the Devils only points away from clinching a playoff spot, he thought his rookie year was going far better than anything he could have prepared for.

#ethan edwards #nhl #umich hockey #new jersey devils #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards x you #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards fic #ethan edwards one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #umich hockey x reader

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jeoncasino · 9 months ago

Text

Prospects

⋆ †₊ 0.1

Tired of life and all it had to bring for you, things take a turn when you find out two of your friends start to take a liking to you. With newfound emotions and a whole lot of drama, what happens when they start competing for your love?

Pairings: JJK x fem! reader [x KNJ]

Genre: college au, love triangle, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, eventual smut.

Tags: rich! jjk, law student! jjk, dark hair! jjk, sweet! jjk, jealous! jjk, needy! jjk, obsessed! jjk, but also dom! jjk, slightly toxic! jjk, english major! knj, boy bsf! knj, co-worker! knj, husband material! knj, brown hair! knj, sweet! knj, jealous! knj, sad knj:(, pet names, everything’s so complicated and everyone’s in denial, jk's love language is physical touch and acts of service, jk has mommy issues so he's too attached to oc, joonie is so sweet i feel bad for him, gguk will try everything in his power to make oc his, ggukkie lowkey hates joonie lol, this is an actual slow burn yay!

Warnings: mentions of drug use.

⋆ †₊ Series Masterlist

Minors do not interact.

Smoke surrounds you. For a moment, the noises and lights from the party, once a chaotic blend, seperate distinctly. Each sound creates its own frequency, each beam of light cutting through the haze in sharp lines. Everything around you slows down, the moment captivating you in a trance that would otherwise not been achieved without smoking a certain plant.

Elaine, your best friend, who was sitting to your left, seems to be talking to you. You can't quite grasp what she's saying, but she leaves shortly afterward, leaving you alone in the beautiful backyard of this otherwise dirty frat house. You really were avoiding going inside—the floors were sticky, and it smells funky. Honestly, you didn’t even want to be there. Frat parties aren’t your thing. But Elaine, in apparent need of de-stressing (though later confessing she just wanted to see her latest infatuation, Zia), had dragged you out on a Thursday night. You thought about getting mad and leaving, but she’s your best friend—and every guy here looks like they’d spike her drink—so you stayed. Plus, she bought you a blunt, so it evened out.

As you gazed at the dark-glowing canvas of the night sky, you felt a presence beside you. Skeptically, you glanced to your right, only to find a man staring at you. You jumped.

“Oh my god?” you gasp, eyes wide, hand over your heart.

The guy laughs, clearly amused by your reacton. Trying to figure him out, you took a look at him. He wore a loose white shirt and baggy jeans. Dark hair framed his face. Two rings pierced the right side of his mouth, his right arm covered in tattoos. Honestly, you felt intimidated—frat parties drew all kinds of people, you know? But when you finally met his eyes, the softness of his gaze made him seem far more approachable then you originally thought.

“Will you quit staring?” He teased.

Your cheeks burned. “Oh please, I’m on drugs,” you muttered, looking away, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I know. Thought I’d join you on your trip.”

Confused, and extremely thirsty, you asked, “Who are you?”

“Seriously?” He replied, somewhat annoyed. “Jeon Jeongguk. We share a class—U.S History with Mrs. Webster,” He paused, anticipating an answer. He met silence. “No?”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m too high to remember anyone from that class.” Thinking it over, you added, “Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you.”

And that’s because you hadn’t. Jeongguk, though quite popular, found himself completely partner-less tonight. He didn’t like being alone, so when he spotted you, high and alone, he thought he’d try his usual trick with you—pretending he knew you from somewhere. It usually worked.

Not today though. At your response, he was utterly offended. Did you seriously not know who the Jeon Jeongguk was? Even he recognized you—the sharing a class part not being a lie—so it made no sense. Although, he didn’t know your name either, so maybe you did know him, just not his name, and the drugs are clouding him from your memory.

Yeah, he thought, it’s definitely the drugs. “Did you know marijuana causes memory issues?”

You snorted. “Just say you’re offended.”

He shrugged. “What’s got you all alone out here?”

“My horny friend, I guess.” You turn to face him. “You?”

“I was taught to never leave a pretty girl like you alone,”

“Okay, Mr. Charming, please be serious.”

He laughed. “My friends ditched me too.”

“Hm,” You didn’t know what else to say. Usually, you were good at small talk, but you were literally in cloud nine and too thirsty to properly think. “Do you mind getting me some water? I’ve got cotton mouth and don’t want to go inside.”

“It smells wierd doesn’t it?” He scrunched his nose as he replied. You nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

Many chit-chat’s and half a bottle of wine later—Jeongguk found it somewhere in the frat—you both bid goodbye with teary eyes and warm embraces, somehow convinced you’d never see each other again after this party. Both of you not letting go, Elaine and his friends have to literally pry you guys apart, causing everyone to fall comically like dominoes.

Attempting to open your eyes you rubbed them, immediately closing them as the morning sun assaults your vision. What even happened yesterday? Your head pounded, nausea swirled in your gut. You felt horrible. Trying to go back to sleep, you turned in your bed, feeling the dreaded build-up of saliva once you layed on your side. Uh-oh.

You rushed to your bathroom just in time.

“Elaine?” you half-yelled, wiping your mouth with your hand muffling your voice.

No response. You stumble out of your room and head for the kitchen. There, your find an already-ready best friend cooking god-knows-what.

Looking up at you, she said, “Good morning, Mrs. Jeon,” her tone dripping with mockery.

“What? Mrs. Jeon?” Confused, you try to piece together last night’s events, but it’s no use. Panicking, you exclaimed, “Oh my God, Elaine, what happened yesterday?!”

She looked at you unimpressed. “Oh, nothing much. Just that you and Jeongguk were all over each other yesterday!”

“Jeon who?” You asked.

“Be so serious right now,” She couldn’t believe you. “Y/n, he’s like, super well-known around campus. Rich as hell and a jerk.” She added, “Cheated on Jayla, rejected me when you bet me to hit on him for five dollars.” Elaine huffed with her arms crossed.

Recalling how hilarious that day was, you laughed so hard your headache worsened tenfold. “I might die if I keep laughing,” you stuttered, gripping the kitchen counter for dear life. “Is that why you don’t like him?”

“This isn’t funny! You guys made fools of yourselves last night. I genuinely thought he laced your drink.”

Drink. The word triggers flashes of last night—Jeongguk approaching you, him bringing you water, a bottle of wine somehow appearing in your hands. Blood drained from your face as you remembered how you parted ways—throwing yourself into his arms, him not letting go, literally shedding tears as Elaine dragged you out of the frat’s backyard.

You’ll make sure to never drink again after this.

“Elaine, did I really—”

“Yes, Y/n, you did! Do you know how embarrassing that was? Don’t even get me started on the reputation you just gained yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“All his closest friends were there,” she said, serving her plate with freshly cooked eggs. “They thought you guys fucked or something.”

“Ew?”

“Did you really?” The question almost offended you.

“Stop! God, no, obviously not,” you shuddered. “Just because we hugged?”

“No, because Jeon fucks everything he touches,” she replies matter-of-factly. “He also got a little possessive, he wouldn’t let go.”

“Of me?”

“Yeah, we all fell to the ground because y’all wouldn’t budge. My biceps are sore, no joke.”

You slumped against the counter, hiding your face in disbelief. “Wait so, now people think I’m easy?”

“Yes. Now let’s just hope the rumor didn’t spread outside the frats,” she said, walking out of the kitchen with her plate full of eggs. “People were watching, you know? I almost left you there with that whore. Anyway, you better get ready—your first class starts in 20.”

You sprint to your room.

“Thanks for saving me a spot.”

Namjoon lifted his backpack from the seat next to him as you slid into it, placing your own bag on the floor.

“No worries, buns,” he said, noticing your wet hair immediately. “Were you in a rush this morning?”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

“Did you have a night shift yesterday? I don’t recall scheduling you late this week.”

“No, it’s just that Elaine dragged me to this party and I—” You stopped yourself. Were you really going to expose your half-secret to Joonie out in the open? Nuh-uh. “I’m just so hungover. Let’s talk later. Focus on class.”

Although curious as to what happened last night that got you this flustered, Namjoon chose to not push the subject, both of you focusing now on whatever the professor was droning about.

You liked that he always walked you to class. Obviously if his class was far or if he got busy he wouldn’t, but for the most part he did. You found it chivalrous, a trait that most men nowadays lacked. That’s why you liked Namjoon—he was friendly but polite, not shy to ask about your personal life but never stepping any boundaries. Not to mention his other great qualities, like how intelligent or hard working he is. You both had gotten originally close through Yeyo’s café—he trained and guided you along the harsh path of being a first-time barista—and having worked most shifts together, you became each other’s favorite co-worker, mingling whenever and hanging outside of work at times. At these occasional dates, the both of you learnt you shared similar struggles, like not having anyone support you financially or having complicated relationships with your families. All these things made relating to him easier. He never failed to make you laugh or help you see the good in the bad, and for him you were grateful.

Now you’re here—two months later, at the same university—him walking you to class while you complained about the workload your professor just assigned.

“I mean is he kidding? Not everyone has free time like him. I’ve got work!”

“I think his wife’s divorcing him or something,”

You gasp. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled at your reaction. “You know the professor’s assistant?”

“Oh, the one who wants you?” you teased with a grin, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

Namjoon elbowed you gently. “Stop it,” he muttered. You laughed at his flustered expression.

“Anyway,” he continued, eager to change the subject, “the other day, I stayed after class to ask her for some extra points, but she got off track and started telling me all sorts of things about him.”

“Like what?” you asked, leaning into him with interest.

“Why do you sound excited?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t act like you don’t indulge in professor drama,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

Namjoon chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you shot back, avoiding his gaze.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he teased.

“Okay, fine! Just tell me what she said, please,” you pouted, grabbing onto his arm, feeling the firmness of his muscles. You knew that whenever you did this, he’d give in—like that one time at the fair when you’d been so thirsty you begged for a water bottle that cost him twenty bucks.

He sighed, giving in as expected. “Well, according to her, his wife wanted a Chanel bag, but the professor wouldn’t buy it for her. Then, she thought he was having an affair, so she looked through his things, but she found out he lied about how much money he’d inherited, so now she’s filing for divorce.”

“Gosh, I almost feel bad for him,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting. “Almost.”

“Meanie,” Namjoon grinned and squeezed your nose.

“Hey! Stop, you’re—” About to punch him for ruining your makeup, he darted away as fast as he could.

“I’ll kill that motherfucker,” you muttered, opening the door of your next class.

“And I was like, are you dumb?” Elaine exclaimed through the phone.

After your last class, you decided you’d stop by the nurse’s office to get something that would soothe your headache, when you recieved a call from your best friend. Though spontaneous calls weren’t surprising, what she had just informed you was.

Apparently, she met up earlier with Zia, who had the audacity to ask her if she found it embarrassing to have a friend who had slept with Jeongguk. And obviously, her being the bestest, most protective friend ever, denied the rumors going around the frats in attempt of clearing your name.

As you walked out of the nurse’s office and into the bustling campus, she continued, “And I swear, in that moment, I was about to punch her. I mean, I always knew Zia was a little dense, but this? Ugh, it’s infuriating! I don’t even know why we fucked anymore.” She sighed heavily.

You found a bench under a large oak tree and sat down, needing to process everything. You’d been too busy with classes to think much about the previous night’s events, but now, with the day’s tasks behind you, the anxiety started creeping back in.

“Did you guys actually fuck yesterday?” you asked, leaning back against the bench.

“No, we had literally just fucked at the sorority, when she started asking dumb ass questions,” Elaine huffed. “I think I’m never finding love.”

“Don’t say that, E,” you replied, rubbing your temples. “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

Elaine’s voice softened. “How are you holding up, though? I’m sorry for everything. I can’t help but feel responsible,” she added, and you could practically see her pouting on the other end of the line.

You took a deep breath. “Honestly, I was too busy this morning to even care, but now that I have time to think, I kind of just want to hide from everyone.”

“I’m sorry. I love you, okay? Don’t forget that.”

“I love you more.”

“Well I got to go, I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

Listening to the ring which notified the call was over, you finally had some time to process everything. Trying to find where you went wrong, the most controversial thing that happened all night was the fact that you were hanging out with… Jeongyeo? Or was it Jeongyu? Uh, you’ll make sure to ask Elaine later. Anyways, you saw no harm from having an innocent chat with him. All you did was drink with a rich frat college guy— and basically cry to each other but that was too embarrassing to even think about—so your ever crumbling reputation made no sense. You guys didn’t fuck, most certainly didn’t kiss, and by now the guy should’ve cleared the rumors, so why were they making such a fuss over it?

It was all so childish. Yet, despite your attempts to rationalize it, your stomach churned, your hands grew clammy, and your mind raced with anxiety. Every passerby seemed to stare at you with judgmental eyes.

You sighed deeply. This felt like high school all over again. You had to pull yourself together. If these people wanted to make a fuss over nothing and use you as their entertainment, then so be it. You had bigger things to worry about—like paying your bills or pursuing a career. So, with that, you decided to push the drama to the back of your head and refocus on what really mattered, finally finding peace once again in your mind.

And at peace you were.

At least that was the case until you got back home, because as soon as you walked into the apartment, Elaine rushed over, breaking the news to you. “Y/n, you won’t believe this. That miserable old landlord is raising our rent!”

You blinked, trying to process the new discovery. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Elaine threw her hands up in frustration. “I begged him to exclude us from the raise, but he wouldn’t budge. He said it’s either pay up or move out.”

Trying your hardest not to kill him right now, you paused. What were you going to do now?

Trying to keep an optimistic outlook, you replied, “Look, I know it’ll be hard, but we can do this. Let’s just take extra shifts at work and start looking for an affordable place to stay at.”

She wasn’t sure about your proposition. You both worked long hours as is, not to mention how time consuming and disrupting it was for school.

“Y/n, we barely get to sleep some days,” Elaine said so lowly it was almost a whisper. Finding the situation impossible, she added, “I’m dropping out.”

You scoffed, “Are you crazy? You’re not doing that,”

“What else is there to do Y/n?” She frowned.

Lips pursed, you racked your brain trying to come up with a solution. Dropping out was not an option, and if keeping your education meant being homeless, then so be it. You both had a car, so maybe you guys could sleep there until you found a new place. And if you had to shower, you could probably just ask Namjoon if-

“Oh my god! Namjoon!” You yelled as you reached for your phone.

“What? Y/n what are you doing?”

Dialing Namjoon’s number, you replied with a smile on your face, “Pack your stuff, we’re crashing Joonies place.”

Author: pls this took me long enough to post and im not sure i even like it lmfoaoaoa. nobody told me how hard and time consuming this was. anyways yall if it sucks LMK ! i’ll make sure to burn this post down if it sucks ass. shout out to anyone who finished reading the first chapter of this series ! omm ilysm. i’ll also try to comment the people who wanted to be added to my taglist, hopefully it works. bye !

This is a work of fiction. The scenes, characters and events depicted are purely fictional and not intended to represent real-life procedures or individuals. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Do not use this story as your own.

@jeoncasino 2024 ©

#bts fanfic #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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vacantfields · 1 year ago

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Things Are Better AU MASTER POST!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacantfields

TAB AU: Singing Voices Spotify Playlist

YOU ARE ALLOWED TO: Draw, Write, etc with these guys! (ASK ABOUT NSFW !)(AND remember to credit me!!)

(I will attempt to use the tags as best as i can!! Do also note that things can change in this AU but this is the best place you can go look honestly)

[ In this AU, Sun, Eclipse, and Moon have gotten new bodies, some that are way more humanoid. Technically, they are not animatronics anymore, but the Pizzaplex they live at still deems them as such! They are also all separated; most importantly, THEY ARE NOT BROTHERS. They are best friends! (Sun and Moon, however, seem closer than that.) ]

[ It is set in the 20XX! The date doesn't matter. ]

[ The Location of this thriving Pizzaplex is in the heart of a big city, and the rest of the animatronics have gotten slight upgrades but have remained the same. Sun and Moon still run the Daycare. Eclipse stands as the security guard for the Daycare (Moon also still goes on patrols, as well). They live in the Daycare too! The layout is (sorta) the same as the original Pizzaplex. The boys can leave the place, but they must tell their handler or whoever runs the place how long they will be gone. The virus from the game is not here, BUT a virus is in this! It's highly aggressive and should be avoided at all costs. Moon used to have a virus, but most got removed from him when they moved into these bodies, although some of the virus remains in his code. Eclipse has a different virus embedded in him, and he cannot remember how he acted before; it basically wiped his personality, so now he's somewhat unpredictable. ]

They have humanoid/android bodies

The original body along with their personality chips were created in the middle of the 90s

Moon got his virus in 95 or so but they couldn't fully remove it as they would have to reset him and thats a chore plus it wasn't too dangerous so they moved the guys into separate bodies and it fixed most of it

the story is set in 20XX

The location is in a big city

They have been in the new bodies for around 5 years

The fire, gregory, etc. Did not happen here!

The virus Eclipse was made by some people who wanted to use the animatronics to attack people and make sure that fazbear would shut down

They are not the same guys from the game BUT they do act a lot like them! (kinda)

They used to share a body (Eclipse just being a security setting in them)

Moon has remains of a violent virus

Eclipse has the virus embedded in his code

Eclipse cannot remember who he was before the virus

The virus is not sentient... OR... Is it?

Despite not having the virus, Sun is not handling being alone in his head. His unstable and unused security program snaps in when he has breakdowns and makes his head think it's Moon talking to him.

Sun was the first personality chip then it was Moon and then Eclipse

Other facts

The virus does NOT like the color red on bodies. (Do not wear a red shirt or anything alike that around Eclipse he will attack and KILL.)(Though if they care about you he will hold back from mauling)

They cannot eat BUT! They can taste things!

Their face plates can still spin

They can still use the wire to "fly" around if they wish

They have a secondary voice box that they use for when they talk with people outside of the Daycare/or go out!

In the Daycare they use the "Canon" voice

They can also perform at "Adult Nights" at the pizzaplex, which consists of them singing on stage while the adults drink and so on.

Moon is the only one who actively performs so you can catch him in the evenings on stage!

They are all very flexible... And they can dance (;

They can also talk with each other through a shared headspace (like a group chat)

The old body is stored somewhere in the plex

⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊ SUN ⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊

He/They/We | 8'5" / 256cm | Daycare Attendant

[ Sun is a happy go lucky guy who hides a lot of his other emotions and sometimes they tumble in! He gets angry, he gets sassy, he gets upset, etc. !! ]

Secondary Voice (singing):

Without A Whisper | Sleepless Deathbed | Reverie

(Invent Animate)

----------

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ MOON ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

He/They/We | 8'5" / 256cm | Naptime Attendant / Performer

[ Moon is your day to day gremlin. Crawling up walls and spider-walking across the floor in the darkness. Though he does easily get flustered if youre close enough to him! ]

Secondary Voice (singing):

Secret Scream | That Death Cannot Touch | No Accusations

(The Black Queen)

----------

☾✴ ๋࣭ ⭑ ECLIPSE ☾✴ ๋࣭ ⭑

He/They/We | 9'4" / 284cm | Security for the Daycare

[ Eclipse is a wild card. You never know if you can trust what comes out of his mouth but he seems docile for now ]

Secondary Voice (singing):

Broken Inside | Forevermore | Clouded Son

(Broken Iris)

----------

(Hopefully this made some sort of sense... I will probably edit here and there but (: !!)

#Things Are Better AU #TAB AU #TAB AU Sun #TAB AU Moon #TAB AU Eclipse #dca fandom #dca au #daycare attendant #naptime attendant #androids #robots #animatronics

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corkinavoid · 3 months ago

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DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt.9]

Tim turns a corner, keeping his steps as quick and soundless as possible, and desperately tries not to panic.

The hallway around him is not dark, per se - it still has a few torches lit up on the walls - but it's definitely not one other students use a lot. That's not to mention the fact that it must be well past curfew now. Which makes sense to why there's no one else around him, right.

Except for the loud meowing he can hear on the other end of the hallway.

And the voice of Hogwarts' Caretaker, who Tim already knows to be a rather awful, mean, and merciless man from the rumors. He would very much like to keep knowing him through the rumors only, thank you. He's already screwed up his House allegiance somewhat by pairing up with a Hufflepuff in Potions and just barely got past it, he can't get detention now!

The problem is, though, that he has no idea where he is. The castle is huge. The staircases are moving with little pattern or system to them; or if there is one, then Tim hadn't figured it yet. It's only been two weeks, so he only just got used to having scheduled classes in general.

Tim turns left at the intersection of two corridors and frantically looks for anything that can help him. A familiar portrait, a staircase down - because he knows he must be on one of the top floors, judging by the vantage point of view from the windows - an alcove to hide.

Literally anything would do at this point, please, he doesn't want to get in trouble tonight, he just wants to go back to the dungeons and-

The flap of a tapestry on his right moves all of a sudden, and in the next moment, cold fingers wrap around his wrist. In a blink of an eye, Tim finds himself yanked behind the tapestry, and another cold hand slapped over his mouth to stop him from making a sound.

When he looks up, he is... Well, not incredibly surprised to find Danny being his unexpected savior.

He is honestly more bewildered by the fact that the boy's hair seems to be very faintly glowing. Kind of like a shimmer of a ghost in the dark, only dimmer.

Tim makes a muffled, confused sound, raising his eyebrows, but Danny apparently doesn't give one single shit about his questions. Instead, he stares into Tim's eyes and whispers, "Do you trust me?"

And, generally? Debatable. Tim could have sworn 'Trouble' was Daniel Fenton's middle name if he didn't know it was actually 'Jackson'. Besides, even if his face looks serious enough in the darkness of the alcove, there's still that unmistakable hint of mischief in his voice. Tim is familiar with it; it's the mischief that gets the Potions classroom covered in exploding bubbles of glitter that doesn't come off with any cleaning spells.

But, right here and right now, when Mr. Filch's very recognizable steps are coming closer and closer to their hiding place?

Tim eagerly nods a few times, not taking his gaze off Danny and hoping to convey 'there's no better time for me to trust you than now' through his wide eyes alone.

In the dim glow of Danny's hair, Tim sees his lips stretch in a devious grin.

And then, they are suddenly back out in the hallway and running, his hand still held by the wrist. Danny doesn't care in the slightest for how much noise he is making, and Tim doesn't have enough time to as much as think about trying to be quiet. Not that he even can, what with them both sprinting down the corridor and turning corners with seemingly no direction.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Mr. Filch's screeching voice echoes off the walls and shining suits of armor. Tim hears other voices as well - the yelps of the awoken portraits and a mad laughter that must be coming from Peeves - but Danny doesn't seem bothered. If anything, he speeds up.

"When I say 'jump', you jump, alright?" The boy looks over his shoulder for a moment, an exhilarated grin on his face, and Tim nearly trips at that sudden command. He'd really rather not, but, well, he did say he trusted Danny mere seconds ago.

He nods, even if Danny doesn't see it.

They turn another corner, Caretaker's loud steps hot on their heels, and Tim's brief excitement - hey, they've found the moving staircases! - very quickly turns into dawning horror - oh, no, they've found the moving staircases. This so doesn't bode well with what Danny asked him to do.

They run down the first staircase they come across, skipping steps. And yet, just as the tiniest hope of his suspicions being wrong rises in Tim's chest, Danny all but throws him closer to the railings, yells, "Jump!" and fucking throws himself over.

To be fair, even if Tim tried not to follow him, his wrist is still firmly in Danny's fingers. So, he figures in the matter of split second, better go down on his own volition than head first.

He jumps.

Staircases fly past him at the speed of a racing broom, and Tim really, really struggles to keep his mouth closed so as not to scream and risk biting his tongue. Danny evidently doesn't have such reservations, his laughter echoing off the stone walls and ceilings.

They miss a moving flight of stairs by mere inches, the shadow of it covering them a moment later. Mr. Filch is still yelling somewhere up above, but at least he didn't jump after them, so that's good. Small mercies and all that.

Only Tim can't bring himself to be happy about it.

Not when the ground is approaching and doing so rapidly.

He squeezes his eyes shut, instinctively bracing himself for the impact, but it never comes. Instead, there's a sudden lurch in his stomach, and his body feels weightless for a solid second - kind of like when someone casts a levitation charm on you, but quicker and lighter - and then it's gone, and Tim is dropped down on his feet, almost gently.

He stumbles, snapping his eyes open and holding on to Danny's hand tighter to keep his balance.

"What-" he starts, but the boy is already pulling him further, through the hall and into a narrow pathway leading down, and, before Tim realizes it, he is standing in a familiar corridor.

They are in the dungeons. Barely twenty feet away from Slytherin common room.

Tim jerks his head to the left, staring at Danny intently, "How the bluggering fuck?" Up until now, it was Danny who's been holding his hand tight. Now, the roles are reversed, and it is Tim who is gripping the other boy's wrist, not taking his chances at watching him escape into the night.

Danny grins so wide Tim fears his face is going to crack. "You gotta be a little more specific," he teases, but Tim is having none of it. His heart is still hammering in his chest from all the running and falling, and his head is a mess - both physically and metaphorically.

"We fell through at least three floors down," he says pointedly, and Danny nods.

"Yeah, we did," he admits, but offers no more.

Tim narrows his eyes, "How are we not two vaguely human-shaped splots on the ground?" Out of all the important things to ask, like why did you think it was a good idea or what were you even doing hiding behind a tapestry after curfew, he starts with that part.

Danny shrugs. Too innocently for Tim's taste. "Well, it's Hogwarts. She rather likes her students alive, you know? Hundreds of magical, accident-prone children walk her halls and stairs; you'd think there are quite a bit of safety precautions set in place," he explains, and, while it does make some kind of sense, there's the odd part.

"She?" Tim insinuates, and Danny nods nonchalantly, reaching his hand back to touch the wall behind him.

"Yeah, she. Hogwarts is centuries old and full of magic. She was bound to gain sentience at some point," he smiles fondly, "It's like the ancestral homes that purebloods have, only they are, well, smaller, and there are less people in there to leave an imprint. Hogwarts is huge."

Tim blinks. He never gave much thought to the idea, even while living in an ancestral home himself, but now, when Danny says it like that, it makes an awful lot of sense. However, this unexpected piece of knowledge doesn't answer any of his other questions.

What's more, with the rush of adrenaline slowly fading, Tim's natural need to get right to the bottom of things resurfaces again.

"And you know that because?.." he trails off, hoping for Danny to finish the sentence. He is fairly certain that neither Fenton nor Masters families have any ancestral homes. Well, not in Britain, at least.

Danny blinks and shrugs again, but this time it looks a bit puzzled. "Because it's common sense?" He offers, and Tim stares.

It's very much not.

But pointing it out won't get them anywhere. Tim sighs, his shoulders slumping.

"Well, I didn't know it," he huffs with no real bite to it. Looking down, he notices their still joined hands and quickly lets go, embarrassed about it all of a sudden. "Anyway, what were you doing, um," he gestures with his other hand in the air absently. He is not sure where they've even been when they met.

"On the fourth floor by the tapestry of Whimsy Winning Weatherby?" Danny offers helpfully and gives him a lopsided smile, "Exploring, mostly. Don't you want to know everything there is here?"

Not particularly, no, Tim wants to say, but that would be a lie. He likes exploring just fine, and he took great pleasure in doing so in the Wayne Manor. But, maybe, doing so in the first month here is not the greatest idea?

But that argument is probably not getting him anywhere, either. Considering the dedication the Hufflepuff put into testing his limits with literally everything he came across, the term 'appropriate timing' is probably an entirely foreign concept to him.

"Okay," he breathes out weakly, rubbing his face with his palms. It's honestly too late to argue about anything; why was this boy even sorted into Hufflepuff, he would have fitted great with Gryffindors. Tim, though, as the Slytherin he is, just wants to be done with the daring rule-breaking escapades and go to bed already. "Did you find anything interesting yet?" He asks nonetheless, briefly aware of the fact that he just doesn't want to part ways.

Danny nods, bubbling excitement written all over him, "Yeah, loads! Hogwarts is full of secret passageways, and there's a weird room on the seventh floor that I can't figure out how to get into, but the elves in the kitchens call it Come and Go Room. Helena doesn't like it, apparently, so she won't budge, and Nick doesn't like me, so no luck there. Oh, and Myrtle says she has no idea about that room, but there's a different secret room under the castle, but she won't say anything else. I've found the teacher's lounge by accident yesterday, though, and I almost got detention for it. Oh, and Headmaster's office is guarded by a stone gargoyle, and the password is something sweet, but I forgot what, and, well, I probably shouldn't be trying to get into his office on my own volition anyway."

"You shouldn't be trying to get into any of those places, actually," Tim deadpans, and Danny's smile turns sheepish.

"Yeah, Sam said the same thing. But what else am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, homework?" Tim rolls his eyes, and Danny mock gags. Yeah, Tim expected as much. He sighs, "I should get back to my dorm. And you should, too, actually," he adds, but doesn't insist when Danny just hums noncommittally. It will be a miracle if this boy doesn't get another detention on top of everything he earned in Potions so far. Oh, speaking of, "Do you think the Caretaker saw us?"

"Filch?" Danny looks back at Tim, "No, I doubt it. At best, he would figure out we're first-years, judging by our height. Mrs. Norris might recognize us, though, but, meh, she can't do much about it. There's no proof."

Tim stands corrected, maybe Danny would have fitted better with Slytherins than with Gryffindors.

"Alright," he nods and takes a step back from Danny in the general direction of his common room. Sure, other Houses are not supposed to know where it is, but then, he doubts it was a coincidence that Danny brought him here of all places. Then, he pauses, his gaze flickering back to the boy. "Thanks," he says quietly, and the Hufflepuff beams at him.

"Any time," he offers a playful bow at Tim and steps back towards the wall, knocking on one of the stones. The wall obediently shifts, like the muggle entrance to the Diagon Alley, unraveling a passageway. The one that got them here in the first place, if Tim recalls correctly.

"Hey," on a whim, Tim calls after the boy again, reluctant to see him go. Danny turn around, his eyebrows raised in question. "Tell me if you figure out how to get into that Come and Go Room?" Tim asks, giving him a smile of his own.

Not that he is much interested in a secret room - okay, maybe he is, but it's not the point here - but the way Danny perks up at the request is totally worth it.

"Sure," he grins, "Good night, Tim." And, before he gets a chance to answer, the wall shifts again, closing after Danny.

Tim bites back a fit of happy giggles originating from somewhere in his belly.

"Good night, Danny," he bids goodbye to the empty hall, and, finally, turns around and walks to his common room, a skip to his step.

—☆—☆—☆—

Apparently, Pinterest has, like, three adequate pictures of Hogwarts staircases, so finding these was a trouble:

What Danny looked like in the dark:

[Picrew]

Something I made for the sheer fun of it, featuring, from left to right: ghost-Dani, Dani, Jazz, Sam, ghost-Danny, Danny, Tim, Jason, Damian:

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

Another long-ass part, okay. This is getting out of hand and I'm not about to stop it.

Sentient Hogwarts let's go! I'm basing this headcanon on the idea that the longer magical people live in one specific place, the more magic that place absorbs. Seeing the size and the number of people in Hogwarts, she's gotta be sentient enough.

We are now two weeks or so into the school year, and Danny is sure making himself at home. Naturally, he befriends the ghosts faster than he befriends the living, mostly because he is one of the rare few to actually bother talking to them. But also for family reasons. I'll get to that in the part after the next one, probably.

A word about others, now: Jazz is part of the Gryffindor Quiddich team, she is chaser. Dick is also there, but he's beater, and he's got to be Head Boy this year, despite the fact that he was utterly bewildered by it. However, his position is the sole reason Fred and George are getting a headstart at their shenanigans - Dick likes his fellow Gryffindors and the mischief they are up to just enough to give them a few free passes if he encounters them. Valerie, on the other hand, is very unimpressed by the whole Gryffindor House and the twins specifically. Yet, she is currently top of class in Transfiguration, and McGonagall quietly adores her.

Steph and Danny have grown to be on friendly terms, but nowhere near best friends. They like each other, sure, but they prefer to get up to trouble separately. Besides, Steph is a bit unsettled by ghosts. She is quite friendly with Cedric, though, but, on the other hand, there's no such thing as being truly unfriendly when you're all Hufflepuffs.

Tucker is up in the Ravenclaw Tower, trying to find people who are as crazy about muggle technology as he is. It's not going great, but at least Ravenclaws don't discriminate: the boy is as nerdy as any of them, and they don't judge on what exactly their housemates are nerdy about. We'll see more of him later, when Tim is brave enough to bring his camera into Hogwarts.

Sam is confident in her dislike towards Tim, but they've decided to ignore each other for the most part. She is still not over him taking the seat with Danny in Potions, even though she's claimed every other possible opportunity to sit with him otherwise. She managed to get in good graces with Professor Sprout so far, and is allowed to come to Greenhouses to pester her with plant-related questions.

Is there any particular character you want to see me include in here? I make no promises, but I'd love to hear your thoughts!

[<- part 8 | part 10 ->]

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #hp #tim drake #cork prompts #tim x danny #dead tired #hogwarts au #moving staircases #sentient hogwarts #kinda #danny's nighttime shenanigans #but not in the sense youre thinking #yet

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carlsangel · 11 months ago

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CRUSH

carl grimes x adhd!dixon!fem!reader

(carl loves to hear about your hyper fixation.)

tags: fluff!

masterlist here!

(this takes place in season 4 at the prison!)

Growing up, you’d gotten interested in many things. You were really educated on a lot and your dad, Daryl honestly couldn’t keep up with it. He tried his best, since he’s a pretty quiet guy he’s a great listener. Although, sometimes you wished he’d give you some sort of feedback or maybe ask you questions about whatever it was you were telling him about.

Even after the turn he never really had time to talk about anything. He was always going on runs or he went out hunting. He was really important in the way the prison ran, so he was always busy. You always felt sort of anxious about it, you could never really talk or share your thoughts or explain the interests you loved. They were especially important now as most of your hyper fixations were what was getting you through it all.

You talked, and you talked a lot and there’s nothing wrong with that. But in a world that suddenly had gone quiet, it was hard for people to listen to you considering how adapted they’d become to the silence. You were like a burst of energy that most people weren’t exactly ready for quite yet.

Except for Carl.

He always thought you were the cutest and funniest ever, even when you were younger like at the quarry or the farm. There, you never really had freedom to be yourself because the adults would always tell you to hush and be quieter. That’s why at the prison, he loved to watch you be who you truly were. He’d seen you interact with the other kids at the prison and had gotten angry at them for brushing you off when you were excited about certain things and began to ramble. So, one day at the tables outside the prison, he did something not many people did.

He asked you your favorite book series.

You were ecstatic, even though you realize this may not an invitation to explain to him every bit of lore of the story, you were happy he’d even put in the effort to ask. You tried to stay as calm as possible. “It’s called A Series of Unfortunate Events…it’s quite complicated…” You explain shyly, not having really opened up to him like that before. Sure you’d gone through a lot with him but you stayed quiet a lot of the time because of how discouraged you were by adults.

“Complicated? How so?” He questioned. Which is exactly what you wanted. Your eyes widen a bit but you try your best to stay calm so you don’t completely scare him off.

“Well how much do you wanna know, I mean it’s quite a lot it could take me hours to explain and I’d feel quite bad if you wanted like a quick synopsis and not an entire look on the lore and…” Your voice trails off when you realize you’d been rambling. He however was admiring you completely. He found you so refreshing. “I wanna hear everything.” He tells you. Again exactly what you wanted. Was he always so cute? Or is that something you’d just noticed?

“I guess I could start with the basic information, there’s three siblings right, theres Violet who’s the eldest sister and she’s an inventor, she always ties her hair up with this ribbon and that’s how you know she’s gonna make something good...” You continue to ramble and smile at little details you explain. “Then there’s the middle child, Klaus who’s a boy and he is very intelligent, he remembers basically anything ever told to him which I somewhat relate to considering I get really interested at certain things but anyway,” He giggles at you a bit, enjoying everything in front of him at the moment.

“They also have a little sister Sunny who’s just a baby but they understand everything she says and she has these teeth that are super sharp even though it’s just four but she could probably bite off a finger if she really wanted to.” His eyes widen a bit. “A finger? Wow…and only four teeth?” He inquired, very intrigued at what you’re saying.

You continue to talk to him a bit more, explaining a good amount of the plot to him and he listened intently. You’d stopped for dinner but continued to talk with him during. At some point, Daryl had to come and pry you away from him so you could actually go the hell to bed. Carl didn’t want you to go, you’d already gotten him invested and he wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing what happened next. He also wanted to just spend time with you.

“Cmon s’time for bed.” Daryl told you, you then turned to Carl and a small frown was displayed on his face. “We can talk again tomorrow morning…if you want.” He immediately nods. “Yes- yeah I’d love to.” Daryl looks between the both of you, knowing how much Carl had admired you. He also knew that if Carl was listening and wanting to know more, you’d also admire him just as much. You smile at him and nod. Daryl directs you in the way of the cells and he stays back to talk to Carl.

“You got somethin for my daughter?” He interrogated Carl for a moment. “W-what?” Daryl looks back at you to make sure you’re far enough before continuing. “Those books…she’s been dyin to talk to me about those since I found em for her. Haven’t had the time.” He explains. “No one else seems to want to hear about it. What’re you up to?” Carl tilts his head a bit. “I just wanted to know her favorite series…I suppose I enjoy hearing her talk.” He smiles.

So Daryl left him alone about it. He was glad to know you had someone to talk to while he was busy.

The next day at breakfast, you were eating while reading back at the benches. Once he gets his plate he walks over and sits across from you. His paper plate hit the table with a bit a thud and you notice, looking up from the book. “Oh…hey.” You look up at him and smile, he takes a moment to respond as he’s quite flustered to see your smile straight off the bat. “Hi…which one are you reading?” He points to your book.

“The twelfth book. I’m kinda sad about it though…” You give a small pout and he picks up a bit of bacon to take a bite. “Why, cause it’s gonna end?” He chews his food and waits for your reply. “That and I don’t have the last book.” You fold the page’s corner, sort of a way to mark your place. Carl takes note of that. He does however feel horrible that you’re missing the last book. “Oh really? I’m sorry…maybe we can make up our own ending. Once you explain the rest of it to me.” He does his best to cheer you up.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had to solve your problem. Although he was too young to go out scavenging, his best friend wasn’t. So after breakfast where you explained the second book to him, on his way to do his chores he stopped Michonne on her way out of the gate. “Do you think maybe if it’s not to big a deal you could stop at the library? I’m looking for a book.” He explains, not quite mentioning you currently. “Is this for your new old ‘friend’?” She questions, somewhat teasingly. He rolls his eyes but nods. “Yes. She’s missing the last book. The thirteenth.”

“The last book? Tragic. I know the series, I overheard your guys’ chats yesterday.” She smiles.

So she left and you didn’t see Carl till later that night in the cell block after dinner. He stopped by your cell with a small bag in his hands. He pushed the curtain open to see you lying on your stomach atop your bed, on the final pages of the twelfth book. “Almost done?” He sort of startled you but you immediately smile once you realize it’s him.

“Mhm.” His visit was rather unusual, usually you’d just talk to him during the day but not before bed. You sit up and make room for him to come sit beside you. “I got something for you.” He reaches into the bag and pulls out a book, the thirteenth book. “‘The End?’ Really? How…I mean my dad’s been looking for it for me but-” You look up at him with a bright grin. You don’t really say anything before swiftly tackling him in a hug. He hugs you so tightly, all he wanted was to see you happy.

After pulling away from the hug, he reached back down into the back and pulled out a hook bookmark. It had a little arrow charm. Fitting for a Dixon to say the least.

“I mean…this makes sense.” You tell him, he laughs at your comment. “I just thought I’d have Michonne find you the last book. I’m quite invested in it myself. I love hearing you talk about it…I love hearing you talk.” He explains, sort of staring at you admiringly. You notice and look a tad skeptical, knowing there was something more appealing to him than just talking.

“I uh..I have a small crush on you…if that explains everything.” He admits, his face turning a light shade of pink.

You smile. “Yeah, I could tell.”

a/n: i thought this was quite fun to write, i love a series of unfortunate events muehehehe. anyway i hope this is what anon wanted, i did some good research for it to ensure it was okay :)) okay love u bye

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh

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cas-backwards-tie · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.

Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,

Words: 3.6k

A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted!

It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.

While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.

--------

“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the opposite side of the platform.

“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her in, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.

“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s currently the standard in teenagedom,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.

“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now. Leaving her in the lurch only for her to seek answers by prying into their life.

A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim had come to a halt, now watching from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.

It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.

On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it for you offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.

The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.

“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announces, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.

This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention finally returning to the monitor once again after being distracted by Tim.

“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises. Even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.

The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”

“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.

“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie. Therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.

Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.

Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.

“I mean she tried to-” Dick begins.

“She did not! Dick, stop exag-”Bruce interrupts, turning to face them and argrue.

“Bruce-” Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered. With one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.

“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns back from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:

‘V I S U A L L O S T’

The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background feed of the Manor’s security cameras linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.

“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.

“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” He demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally lifts his gaze to take in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more fuel to the already burning fire.

“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.

They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.

“Who-?”

“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.

------

“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.

The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”

It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.

“Uh, the-” he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your public files and digital footprint.

“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.

“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.

“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.

“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks thoughtfully, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.

“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.

“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.

“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.

“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.

“I-” all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.

“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.

“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.

“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.

“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.

“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.

“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-”

“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.

“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.

“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the Just-” he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-”

“-just business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”

--------

Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!

‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll hav-’

Splash!

A dissatisfied shriek escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dami-" looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”

You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.

A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”

Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy, Billy, staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away outside the door; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.

Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’

Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’

“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.

“Shit! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, saying something in a language you don’t recognize, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.

“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.

“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying. That was the whole reason you were down here in the first place, after all.

“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You hear Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.

--------

As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.

You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial time he’d quite literally bumped into you.

--------

“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too-”Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.

“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.

"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.

“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.

“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond jokingly, not thinking about it too much. It is family movie night. After all, you’re focused, wanting this popcorn to be good, not a burnt pile of charcoal.

“Oh, I didn’t mea-”Billy goes to correct himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.

“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.

“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.

“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-” He argues.

“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.

The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.

--------

Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.

The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.

Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.

Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic ,@moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee ,@azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess

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nyerus · 2 years ago

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Hi! I would love to hear your thoughts about classism in TGCF, but specifically regarding XL. It surprised me to see people hating on XL for not knowing or doing better during his teenage years of luxury as the crown prince and making XL a complete villain because he didn't take down classism and restructure society despite still being a kid himself. It struck me as odd that the fandom is well aware of his 800 years in poverty but also not really addressing the fact that XL, too, is a victim of classism albeit a little different from someone like MQ.

Hi there! So sorry it's taken me this long to get to this ask, I've just been in sort of a funk for a few days haha.

But yeah, this is definitely a topic that comes up from time to time, with lots of discussion about. It surprises me that despite that, there are still people (maybe just newer fans? idk) who still hate on Xie Lian for his naive views as a 17yo. Especially since, despite being a naive 17yo, he still really wanted to help people less fortunate than himself. He didn't quite understand how to do this in the most effective ways (because he was a teenager), so it came off as somewhat patronizing as he was a person in a position of power compared to everyone else. Yet his desire to help people was genuine, and he didn't personally think of "common folk" as being any lesser than "royalty" -- even though in this case, there kind of literally was a difference. (E.g. when Lang Ying goes from being a commoner to a king, he gets a "kingly aura" that protects him!) So it's honestly kind of incredible that Xie Lian is willing to say things like "I think people are equal, even gods and humans, and if the Heavens disagree with me, then it's the Heavens that are wrong" with his entire heart.

I imagine a large part of the hate Xie Lian gets from certain fans is jealousy or resentment, due to the fact that Xie Lian was "born privileged." But on it's own, "privilege" is not "the great enemy" -- it's what said privilege means in the context of society, and what someone does/doesn't do with it that merits judgement. Xie Lian doesn't fully understand the privilege he had until he loses it (again: because he was 17!), but he still understood it enough to use it to protect and help people. That's more than many other characters can say. Him starting out as a prince doesn't automatically disqualify him from class struggles or the horrors of poverty. It's nonsensical to think so, when this is a character who literally spent almost 800 years busking for scraps, while sleeping in dirt outside and eating garbage….

On the flip side, as you mentioned Mu Qing -- yes, he was a victim of classism. But he's a very strange figure to use as the poster boy for that, though he often is by people who are critical of Xie Lian. This may be a controversial take, despite it being something I think that makes the character of Mu Qing really interesting: but he's a very "typical" guy within the concept of classism. He's someone who started off with a bad lot, but then ended up ascending to the highest point you pretty much can in that world/society. Which is great! He did that through hard work, and it paid off! But now, since he got his "happy ending," that's kind of it for him. He doesn't do anything to materially improve the lives of those less fortunate, especially those he has no personal connection with. This doesn't make him a bad person -- it's not really his job to that, even as a god. He's a martial god, so he's there to subdue threats and all that. Yet you can clearly see, that's exactly the type of person society values because such "rags to riches" stories give legitimacy to the whole system, and because they don't rock the boat once they're on top.

So then it's odd to be angry at Xie Lian but not Mu Qing (or others) for the lack of some "grand revolution" that some readers seem to want.

Ironically, Xie Lian used what power he had to try and help people -- and he was worse off for it. If he had done nothing, he would have been able to live a happy and carefree life. He would have lived and died as a rich prince/king with no troubles. Like, that's the point! The societies we live in punish those who want to broadly help others or make meaningful change, while rewarding those who quietly play the game for themselves -- because it helps keep the wheels turning. It doesn't matter at "what end" of the spectrum you start out on, the rules apply the same way. If you go against the establishment, there's a price to be paid.

Throughout Xie Lian's long journey, he learns this lesson the hard way. And the fact that in order to change it, he would somehow have to change the hearts and minds of pretty much everyone -- which is an impossible ask. How is he even supposed to that, or restructure society as a whole, without vast amounts of collateral damage? In the end, Xie Lian discovers that he was not wrong in his desire to help people, even if he cannot help everyone. He can still help people he meets in whatever ways he can, and that is still important. To show kindness, mercy, and empathy towards your fellow man is worth it. Helping your neighbors or complete strangers you meet once and then never again -- all that is still worth it.

I wish I had the time to sit down and really talk about this in a more organized way, but these disjointed thoughts are all I can manage at the moment! I hope it was still valuable to you in some way, and thank you for sending in the ask!

(Also, I recently reblogged a post that talked about something similar if you wanna check it out, Anon. It's right under the manhua highlights I think!)

#Anonymous #asks #tgcf #im seeing a LOT of chatter on this topic lately so it makes me wonder if there was some discourse i missed due to being under a rock lol #nyerus.txt

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its-a-ducky-mess · 3 months ago

Text

Art/Fun/Holiday: 12th Anniversary

It has been twelve years since Sarah & Duck first aired.

[Source: Google search for "when did Sarah & Duck first air"]

Happy Birthday, Sarah & Duck!

While it may not be as flashy as an anniversary art piece (though I may make a late one depending on how crunched I feel), I will just ramble and talk about things I like about the show to celebrate this milestone. I'll talk about what got me into the show, aspects I like, and some more personal thoughts on the show and maintaining this blog.

Intro

I was introduced to Sarah & Duck by one of my online friends back in the middle of 2022. We watched the first season together (though I only joined in halfway through), and then I found my own way to watch the rest of the show since I felt hooked. Since then, it's become my main special interest and is perhaps as strong as it had been back then. Last year, I rewatched and introduced the series to my closer group of friends, who I'd consider my "best" friends. They loved it. One of them even considered Sarah his "blorbo in law" (a character he cares about because someone else does) before having her graduate to a full blorbo (a character he likes). I'm very glad to be able to speak to fans of the show and talk about it.

Art and Vibes

[Source: S1E15 Fairground]

There's something about the show's simplistic and scribbly artstyle that resonates with me. It's somewhat ethereal, and coupled with the mostly low energy happenings and accompanying soft, gentle music, the show builds up a very welcoming atmosphere perfect for the intended demographic of young kids. The style is kind of inspiring to me, and I often try to think of how exactly to emulate or adapt the watercolor-esque nature of backgrounds and scenery. Some of the scenes (like the one above) are pure spectacular and honestly surprised me with how nice looking they were on my first watch.

It's a very nice show for me to zen out to. The first watch-through, I was surprised with some episodes in the first series that they were already over. Those 6.5 minutes go by fast sometimes! In contrast, most of the shows I've watched prior were 20-45 minutes. It's a testament to the show staff that they can hold the attention of me, an adult, for that long. The show as a whole feels somewhat like a dream. An imaginary romp through a kid's life in the U.K. There have been some episodes where I could see myself doing the same pretend games and things that Sarah does if I were a kid. Watching the show felt like peering back into my childhood with nostalgic, rose-tinted glasses.

Characters

[Source: S2E4 Sound Jumble]

Sarah & Duck has quite the colorful cast, both metaphorically and literally. I honestly like how some characters just drop in or drop out of the episode's story sometimes, like Plate Girl showing up in Pond Princess. It gives the world a bit more genuineness; Sometimes as a kid, I'd only give a little bit of time for another friend before moving on with my own thing while playing.

While I do like the main trio of characters (Sarah, Duck, Narrator) the most, it's a tossup between Scarf Lady and Plate Girl for favorite side character. Scarf Lady is so chaotic and Bag balancing her out in exasperation is great, but I love how much of a gremlin Plate Girl can be, like in Garden Gaming.

While it does sort of bug the "character interaction" part of my brain, it's interesting that nothing about the characters or world is outright explained. Why does Plate Girl like plates? Why does Scooter Boy like scooters? Why is Scarf Lady so scatterbrained? Why are kids and bird paired up so often? Why are the Ribbon Sisters so adverse to talking? It provides more to the previously mentioned genuineness to the world. Unless directly asked, people don't really delve into why they are like they are. I think that adds a lot to the notion of personal interpretations.

I love AUs and reinterpretations of characters in shows I like just because I like to see how characters react in situations outside of their universes. Plus little headcanons here and there. As a small examples, I hc that Plate Girl is a collector of plates. I like little things like that, giving a little personal touch to certain aspects of the show. I've written a few fanfics as well just because I would A. Like to see how characters would react to other scenarios, and B. Because I like seeing the characters get up to more wacky shenanigans. You might even see my boy and his bird OC pair make an appearance on this blog, in addition to the humanizations and some other fan-episodes.

I am not okay about this series if you couldn't tell.

Emotions

[Source: S2E40 Duck Flies]

Obviously, it's a kids show, and I don't intend to be all "this show is peak cinema" about it. It is good, I just don't want to seem delusional. Well, more delusional than usual...

But, honestly the show can be really heartfelt and touching at times. I felt bits of sadness and sympathy for Sarah in Duck Flies, as a person that gets very attached to characters/objects very easily, and Ribbon Alvida, made me cry real, actual tears. The message of "Sometimes you don't get to say goodbye to someone" is incredibly sobering and honestly a really good lesson to teach kids. I felt Sarah's pain very vividly, again, as someone that forms attachments easily.

The more upbeat emotional episodes are great as well. I felt a sense of coziness and warmth during Petal Light Picking, Christmas atmosphere is very calming to me.

Of course, I do realize the folly of only watching kids shows. Again, I don't want to seem like the person who exclusively watches kids shows and touts them as better than "real" shows. Doctor Who balances it out a bit. Fantastic series, loved Nine, Ten, and Eleven. Also tune in for a future post about Doctor Who, wink wink!

Personal Stuff and Why I Made its-a-ducky-mess

[Source: S2E27 Pond Prose]

As stated before, Sarah & Duck was and is my special interest. And with my special interests, I obsessively indulge in them in any way that I can, looking over every stone and in every nook and cranny for unique things. That's part of the reason why I catalogued the animation errors and odd tidbits, because I think it's cool to see those things. I also like looking into the inner workings of things, like behind the scenes videos. I find those VERY fascinating to me, and oftentimes I use design philosophies and such to inspire myself.

My "mission statement" with my fixations I suppose is to spread the word and get people to know about them. I hope my passion for what I like is infectious and gets people to see the shows in a similar way that I do. I started the blog just to tell people about the show, and give facts or little tidbits to fans of the show who may not know the things I do. Oftentimes, I feel like I can't properly express or talk about my interests to my friends because they don't have the same level of "care" that I do. I know people will never like the same things you do at the level you do, but it's still something, and I'm trying to work on that.

My blog is also partly fueled by not letting the series "die" or "fade away". A little dramatic, yeah, but look at Sarah & Duck. It's a twelve year old cartoon for kids, and it's kind of obscure in the grand scheme of things. But I have such love for it that I wish it could continue on. And in a way, that's all we can do really. I would love more official Sarah & Duck content, but I am happy with what we got. If the show kept going, there's the chance that seasonal rot could've happened, and that idea sort of scares me. Anyway, the show's "time" is over, and we, the fans, are left to our own devices. That's not to say Sarah & Duck is forgotten, mind you. The social media posts and such, and even the recent event that put the show in theaters shows that the series still has life in it. And I'm okay with that.

Seeing new fanart, stories, other fans posting about the show, and otherwise engaging with it fills me with joy, honestly. To see the show have a fanbase twelve years later is heartwarming. All of your likes, reblogs, comments, questions, those are powerful inspirations to keep making content for the blog. Just recently with the Valentines post, seeing a number of accounts with Sarah in their profile pictures made me smile ear to ear. That's a lot of what I want. To provide for the fans, to make connections with them, to give a sense of togetherness within this little community, dare I say, fandom.

I genuinely don't intend to come across as a "savior" providing content in a drought, or acting high and mighty to seem more important than I am. I just like this little niche show and wish to provide quality content for its fanbase. The show means a lot to me and I wish to display that to anyone that wants.

Alright, I think I've held you for long enough. Thanks for reading and see you next time!

[I originally wanted to make little header art pieces like this for the sections, but in the interest of getting this post out before it gets too late in the evening, I opted for screenshots. Enjoy this one, though!]

#sarah & duck #sarah and duck #ducky-fun #ducky-art #ducky-holiday #ducky-hc

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chiropter36 · 2 months ago

Text

Sonic Prime fic sneak preview!

Okay, so it's been a year... holy crap... since I posted my I-need-more-closure-for-Nine-dammit fic, and I'm still blown away by the positive reception it's gotten. And as I've mentioned before, I am working on a follow-up, but it's been very slow-going and I don't have any prediction when it'll be done... But I have a lot already written and I reeeeeeaally want to share it with people already, so in honor of the one-year anniversary of "Three or More Foxes Form a 'Skulk'", SPECIAL SNEAK PREVIEW!

(Also, I feel like actually posting some of my progress might help keep my motivation up.)

Anyway, you can read it here or on AO3. This scene takes place during the timeskip, about a month and a half after everyone has returned to their worlds from the Grim.

Sticks didn’t respond immediately, but her face scrunched up in annoyance and Knucks could practically see her brain whirring stubbornly as it tried to parse out any possible point of contention with Nine’s explanation.

Finally though, she let out a growl of reluctant acceptance.

“Alright, fine, I guess those’re decent anti-robo-uprising precautions. An’ I s’pose makin’ the machines undo everythin’ the machines did is kinda poetic justice.”

She stomped forward to stand directly in front of Nine, glaring down at him darkly and jabbing a finger in his face.

“But if I see any a’ those mechanical monstrosities – and that category includes you, robot-boy – anywhere near my new burrow, I will NOT be responsible for my actions.”

Knucks tensed as Sticks got up in Nine’s space. His fists clenched, every sense focused intently on the fox, waiting on a hairpin trigger for the slightest sign of imminent violence…

He relaxed only marginally when Nine barely reacted, his expression as he looked up at the badger perfectly calm, almost bored.

“Understood.”

Sticks stared him down for a long moment. Nine met her gaze evenly. Her eyes never softened, but eventually she seemed mollified with his response, nodding stiffly and turning to leave. She did however cast the fox one last suspicious glare, holding two fingers to her eyes then turning them around to point warningly in the universal ‘I’m watching you’ gesture… except it wasn’t directed at Nine himself, but behind him.

Specifically, at the mechanical appendages encasing his real ones.

Knucks resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Her warning delivered, Sticks turned and sauntered off into the building, not paying the fox any more mind at all.

“See ya in the meeting, Knucks.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, still side-eyeing a somewhat confused-looking Nine.

Neither of them said anything for a moment after Sticks left, then:

“...Does she think my tails are sentient?”

Knucks sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again.

“Yeah, probably. At least… well, let’s just say that’d be in-character.”

“...Huh,” Nine grunted. “That’s a new one.”

He didn’tsay it quite like an insult, but it was skirting the line enough for Knucks to feel his hackles rising instinctively in defense of his friend. He frowned, giving the fox a stern look. “Ya can’t blame folks who went through everythin’ the eggheads did to ’em for not exactly havin’ positive feelings about crazy-advanced tech.”

Nine just shrugged lazily.

“Don’t worry, I’m not feeling particularly judgmental – since I noticed you were all clenched up ready to take me out if I attacked her,” he added with a knowing little half-smirk that Knucks did not deign to give him a reaction to. “Honestly it’s kind of an… interesting change of pace, someone suspicious of me for reasons completely unbound to reality.”

He frowned slightly, looking in the direction Sticks had gone.

“Was she in your resistance?” he asked with a vaguely curious lilt. “I don’t remember seeing her before.”

“You wouldn’t’ve,” Knucks replied. “She’s new on the committee, just got selected to represent the folks who’ve moved out of the city since the deconstruction and terraforming’s been makin’ headway. And nah, she never joined the resistance.”

Nine raised an eyebrow. “Really. I wouldn’t have guessed, she seems pretty much exactly the type.”

“Yeah, well… the city affected different people in different ways,” Knucks muttered, pursing his lips as he debated how much he wanted to share with Nine. It really wasn’t any of the fox’s business, but he wasn’t detecting any malice in the question, so…

“...She an’ I were friends back before,” Knucks began softly, “but we were separated when the Chaos Council invaded. And… by the time I ran into her again, once Rebel an’ I had started gettin’ the resistance goin’, she… wasn’t the same.”

He grimaced as the memory played out unbidden in his mind’s eye: In the middle of a routine supply run, suddenly spotting Sticks standing in a line of denizens on one of the moving sidewalks… The elation bursting in his chest after so long fearing the worst,barely able to force himself to wait for a gap in the Eggforcer patrols before darting out to embrace his old friend… Noticing the missing arm, of course (a sad development to be sure, but nothing Knucks could see any version of Sticks ever wanting any sort of pity or coddling over), but far more concerning, her eyes as she turned to look at him – blank,dead, devoid of any trace of the zest for life that had been her trademark for as long as he’d known her.

And perhaps the worst part: receiving nothing in response to his desperate entreaties beyond a quiet, broken voice reciting, “I am Denizen Two-Zero-One-Four. I am a good egg. Egg is perfect.”

He’d been too shocked to put up much of a fight against Rebel yanking him back into hiding just seconds before another Eggforcer came by, and he’d helplessly watched Sticks disappear as the sidewalk moved ever onward according to the implacable will of the Chaos Council’s gears of industry, his stomach churning with a sickening blend of cold, despairing emptiness and simmering rage toward those responsible… and his own powerlessness to do anything about it.

She hadn’t alerted the patrols, though. He had chosen to cling to that, the tiniest bit of hope that his friend was still in there somewhere.

And, well, as things had turned out...

“Sticks… she’d grown up in the wild, a free spirit,” he continued, shaking off the memory and accompanying emotions, “but between the urbanization and the Council brainwashing… It was like she’d buried a part of her true self deep down to protect it. An’ now that nature’s startin’ to come back, that part’s felt safe enough to come out, an’ she’s… finally more like her old self again.”

He couldn’t help the warm smile that came to his face. The hug he had received from Sticks – no less rib-crushing for being her first foray at doing it one-armed – not long after the first buildings had been torn down and actual soil dug up and prepared for planting was second in his memory only to the sight of a tentative passion and hope gleaming in her eyes.

And not just her; the population in general seemed to be healing, slowly but surely, from the oppressive yoke of the Chaos Council’s regime, mirroring the world around them as sunlight shown through the thinning smog for the first time in years and green life tentatively poked its way out of the ground. Even within the steadily-shrinking city borders, once relentlessly scoured clean of even the tiniest of weeds – anything that had the gall to break up the Council’s strict mechanized order – grasses and dandelions had been asserting themselves all over as cracks spread throughout the ruins, and the people were taking inspiration from that resilience, further fueling their motivation to rebuild and reclaim their world.

And thankfully, the work had been going pretty fast so far, in no small part due to Rebel’s decision to recruit…

The smile on Knucks’ face slipped, twisting into a grimace. Nine looked back at him, his own face inscrutably blank.

Knucks cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, I mean… what with all you’ve been, uh, contributin’… to the rebuildin’ an’ all, that folks like Sticks are respondin’ to… Just, whatever else, guess you’re… y’know, puttin’ some good into the world. For some people.”

If that even matters to ya, he almost said, but managed to hold his tongue; he was supposed to be trying not to unnecessarily antagonize the fox, after all.

For a long moment Nine just held Knucks’ gaze. He didn’t look happy, but didn’t look angry either; his brow furrowed as though trying to figure out a confusing puzzle.

Then his eyes went half-lidded and one end of his mouth quirked up in a well-worn patronizing smirk.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to pay me a compliment, echidna.”

And with that and a dismissive flick of an ear, he turned and headed into the building without a glance back.

Knucks scowled and power-walked after Nine until he caught up, matching his gait as they passed through the entryway.

“Just statin’ a fact, fox. Take it however ya want.”

For the next few moments the two walked down the long hallway, keeping just far enough apart so as to not be within reach of each other, in a silence that was not so much “comfortable” as “mutual disinterest in further engagement”. Knucks pointedly kept his gaze forward while still making sure to keep Nine – particularly the most dangerous part of him, the tails – in the corner of his eye at all times (and knew full well that Nine was doing the same to him).

In other words, basically the norm the two of them had settled into over the past month-and-a-half. Knucks didn’t like or trust Nine, Nine didn’t like or trust him, they were both fully aware of this, it was almost certainly never going to change, but Nine was ostensibly an ally now so they tolerated each other when they had to and otherwise avoided interacting as much as possible.

Which suited Knucks just fine.

Frankly, in the immediate aftermath of the final battle in the Grim, he had been fully on board with just leaving Nine to the empty, desolate world he’d wanted so badly. Karmic punishment and all that. Even after he’d begrudgingly softened on that stance – condemning someone to a slow death by starvation, especially when the fox had seemed to be expressing genuine remorse, was just a tad disproportionate even by his standards – he had still strongly argued for alternatives to bringing Nine back to their home and giving him access to the technology that had devastated it.

When Rebel had gone ahead with the deal after he’d failed to convince her otherwise, Knucks had reluctantly acquiesced and found an upside to focus on – they would at least know where Nine was and be able to keep close tabs on his activities, be directly on hand to hold him to his promise or to take him down if he ever decided to break it. Or when, more likely, Knucks had confidently presumed – no matter what Sonic had said or how sincere Nine may have seemed in the moment, Knucks had only to summon up the memory of the fox’s first betrayal – and the cold, dismissive look in his eyes as he’d abandoned them without a second thought – to re-cement his view that this was a person fundamentally dishonest and untrustworthy.

Whether he still felt that way… varied from day to day.

“Um…” Nine’s voice tentatively and unexpectedly broke the silence. “I noticed that she, uh, th-the badger, I mean… Sticks, she’s missing an…” He broke off, cleared his throat and continued with a struggling attempt at nonchalance. “I mean, if… I don’t know if she’s in the market for, you know, a prosthetic or something, but I could definitely put one together if…”

Case in point, these instances when Nine’s face would scrunch up awkwardly and he avoided eye contact and stammered with uncharacteristic hesitation as he took a stab at the whole empathizing-with-other-people concept.

And despite himself, Knucks hadn’t yet been able to detect any signs of duplicity in these moments.

Urgh.

Things had just been so much simpler back before the fox had started demonstrating these frustrating bits of evidence that there was more going on between those pointy ears than just mwa-ha-ha-ha burn ruin destroy oh how I LOVE betraying everyone for my own selfish ends mwa-ha-ha-ha-HA!

Ah well. At least he could get a bit of a laugh out of this particular one.

“Oh, yeah, for sure, you should totally ask her if she wants a robot arm,” Knucks replied, not quite able to hold back a snicker. “That definitely won’t get her ramblin’ about, I dunno, nanomachines or a metal virus or somethin’ infectin’ her brain and stealin’ her free will. An’ she’d just love the suggestion comin’ from one a’ the city’s resident cyborgs. Only one I think she’d trust more is Rusty. Wouldn’t be suspicious of your intentions at all.”

Nine’s face morphed into a more familiar scowl, and he huffed in annoyance, metal tails clicking against each other irately.

“It wouldn’t be like- that’s- I’m not a- These aren’t surgically-fused to my body like Rose’s cybernetics. I’m not an amateur,” he growled, sounding deeply offended at the very notion his work could be seen in the same category as the Chaos Council’s. “There’s just a minute insertion to give myself a neural link. It’s a bit of a process but I can detach and reattach them if I need to. And a regular limb would be even less invasive, but whatever. Never mind, then. Forget I said anything.”

And with a dismissive sniff he crossed his arms and slightly picked up his walking pace, very pointedly staring straight ahead.

Knucks chuckled at the kid’s petulant reaction… but was surprised to find it coming out a bit forced. His smile dropped a bit.

The feeling… it wasn’t guilt, per se. That definitely wasn’t warranted here – the fox had almost caused reality to collapse, he could suck up having a few jokes made at his expense. And the thought of someone being foolish enough to offer Sticks any sort of cybernetic enhancement was just objectively hilarious in and of itself.

But… well okay, maybe Knucks felt a little bad.Nine had offered. And unprompted, at that.

Okay, fine, I can throw the kid a bone.

“Y’know,” he said, trying for a casual tone, “Sticks aside… lotta other folks’ve lost limbs and the like, and… well, I imagine a lot of ’em probably wouldn’t mind at least havin’ the option.”

He was half-expecting Nine to continue ignoring him out of spite, and for a few long moments the fox indeed continued walking with no indication he was going to deign to give a response.

Then with a soft hum and still not looking at him: “I could make time in my schedule to put together some prototypes.”

“Oh. Uh… sounds good,” Knucks grunted, trying not to sound too thrown by Nine actually taking the olive branch. “We can bring it up with Rebel after the meeting, talk details.”

“Fine.”

Around this point they reached a sign set up in the middle of the hallway, with an arrow pointing to a door that led to another hallway, and the message “RECONSTRUCTION COMMITTEE MEETING THIS WAY! YOU’RE ALMOST THERE! :)” Knucks held back a growl before taking the turn alongside Nine, taking a moment to mentally relive punching Mr. Dr. Eggman through the portal into the void – and then a couple more times to him and the rest of the Chaos Council for good measure.

There had been – thankfully – no sign of any of the mad doctors since the battle in the Grim, but every time he had to navigate the needlessly labyrinthine hallways in one of their pointlessly huge buildings, Knucks felt like they were somehow projecting their will through the Shatterspace for some petty revenge. The idea of just deconstructing the entire thing and setting up the committee chamber in a more easily-accessible and aesthetically-pleasing space had been brought up at every meeting, but they had yet to come to an agreement of where to move, and there were unfortunately just too many higher priorities taking up their efforts in the immediate future.

(Not that Knucks hadn’t spent some of the more boring meetings fantasizing about single-handedly demolishing the building with his bare fists.)

More minutes passed with the two returned to their usual uncommunicative dynamic, the only sound their footsteps echoing in the long metal hallway.

Except that for some reason, Knucks felt that their silence was now sliding toward a less-familiar “awkward” territory.

Without really thinking about it, he cast his eyes around, looking for something to fill the space, and noticed again the covered basket Nine was still carrying. He indicated it with a nod.

“So, whatcha got in there? Some new gizmo?”

Nine started a little in surprise at being addressed again, but he recovered quickly; his face melted into a scowl as he realized what Knucks was referring to… except by this point Knucks had enough experience with the fox’s facial expressions to note that there was something a bit forced about this one; almost like he was putting it on to hide other emotions.

“It’s nothing. Just… just food from that rabbit lady and her kid again,” he muttered, dropping his eyes to a spot on the floor in front of him. “They accosted me when I was passing through their neighborhood on my way here. It’s the most direct route from my lab, but I’ll have to change it up if I’m getting too predictable… Anyway, they insisted I take this. As though I haven’t been getting enough food on my own just fine my whole life.”

He shook his head at the audacity of concern for his physical well-being.

Knucks couldn’t help the smirk that came to his face as he recalled the fox’s first encounter with the friendly rabbit family a few weeks ago, which he had been fortunate enough to be present for. “Wish I coulda got a picture of your face this time.”

Nine shot him a quick glare before rolling his eyes disdainfully, then picked up his pace slightly in a clear message that he was done with the conversation.

They were finally almost at the meeting room by this point; Knucks could hear a mix of muted voices coming from an open doorway on the far left side of the hall.

He easily picked out Sticks’ voice among the jumble, ever loudly and insistently making its owner’s feelings clearly known.

“–thing good ever came from this filthy city! If you wanna keep livin’ like that, that’s your damage, but if you’re expectin’ us to roll over an’ move outta our new homes just so you an’ your fellow grime-loverscan keep exploitin’ the land,then we’re gonna have a problem.”

Another voice, male and reedy with a slight lisp, spoke up. “Look, I know that the city was hard and upended the old status quo, and of course it’s overall good that it’s under new leadership… but you have to admit, the city infrastructure brought a lot of stability and growth, and now that the Chaos Council is gone, we have the opportunity to make it work for us–”

There was a sudden sharp intake of breath, and all of a sudden Knucks had overtaken Nine.

Instantly wary of a potential hostile at his back, he whipped his head around to get the fox back in his sight – but got only the briefest of glimpses before Nine had resumed his stride, marching straight ahead as though nothing had happened. He passed by Knucks and kept walking, not even glancing at him; it took Knucks a second before he shook himself and hurried after him to catch up.

Knucks had always had a finely-tuned sense for danger. Years of guerrilla fighting had only sharpened it further.

And right now, a sense of imminent threat was already curdling in Knucks’ gut.

The fox had done a very quick, thorough job of schooling his features. But in the split second Knucks had caught before that, with his eyes blown wide, ears sharply pulled back...

For just that one instant, Nine had looked utterly terrified.

Knucks followed Nine the last few paces into the meeting room. Wartime instincts still flaring, he quickly swept the room with his eyes, taking note in an instant of everything and everyone present. The focal point of the space was the large rectangular conference table set up in the middle, with a variety of chairs spread somewhat haphazardly around it. Either already sitting or milling about around the room were the beings comprising the reconstruction committee. Knucks quickly counted off the usual faces – former squad commander Red; Rusty Rose; Victor the Crocodile; Spy the Chameleon; Fink the Mouse; the crimson-furred quokka secretary whose name hadn’t stuck in his head yet; a couple others – along with several newcomers like Sticks, folks recently-selected to represent the various civilian interests both in and – more recently – outside the city.

It was one of the latter – indeed, the current target of Sticks’ ire, whose voice Knucks immediately recognized as the one they’d heard from the hallway – whom Nine seemed to be intently focused on.

He was another fox, though older, about Knucks’ height and with only one tail. His scraggly fur was brown with peach on his chest and muzzle, and he wore an old denizen jumpsuit that looked deliberately torn in places to individualize it. Noticeably, he was missing his right canine tooth, and had two prominent facial scars: one across his muzzle starting from where his tooth should have been, and a crescent-shaped one beneath his right eye.

Between this new fox and Sticks, looking immensely done with everything, stood Rebel. She brightened slightly upon noticing Knucks’ and Nine’s arrival, grinning and waving the two of them forward.

“Oh, good, that’s everyone, we can get started,” she announced, raising her voice to cut off Sticks’ rebuttal to whatever her conversation partner had just said. The badger scowled, but turned to take her seat with one last warning snarl in his direction.

The other fox, for his part, turned to see who Rebel had greeted, and...

Well. Where the fear on Nine’s face had been there and gone in an instant, so fast someone less perceptive than Knucks might have missed it… this fox transparently projected his shocked terror at the sight of Nine with every fiber of his being. He stumbled backwards into the table, a hand shooting up to touch his scars as his eyes widened in dread.

Not having yet noticed anything amiss, Rebel waved to get the room’s attention. “Alright everyone, let’s take our seats and get the meeting–”

“Scratch.”

Ignoring Rebel entirely, Nine had strode forward to stand a few paces in front of the other fox, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. His tone was just as even and unbothered as when he’d been facing down Sticks not ten minutes earlier.

And yet Knucks knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this situation was very, very different.

“Been a while.”

#sonic prime #nine the fox #renegade knucks #sticks the badger #fanfic #my fanfics

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yuri-is-online · 1 year ago

Note

I was scrolling through older Yuu angst posts and remembered the “Yuu isn’t Yuu’s name” and “Yuu snapping” posts. I started bouncing some ideas around in a couple of different scenarios and now I have random (and somewhat disconnected) thoughts to dump. Do what you will with these haha.

1. What about tossing those in with the whole time loop mess? I believe that the extra attention paid to Yuu in a time loop scenario would bring the isolation and loneliness Yuu feels a little more into the spotlight. This could provide some fun reactions to how much Yuu actually suffered before meeting an unfortunate end.

2. Would any of the boys be able to have some semblance of a normal relationship with Yuu again after the time loop? Assuming they can break it, the mental toll of watching Yuu repeatedly die would have to screw with them somehow. Especially in the cases that resorted to more unhinged ways to keep Yuu safe.

3. It’s a little sad to think how Grim and his personality serves as a liability of sorts for Yuu. It can’t be easy to try to spend time with your classmates when you have to corral what’s essentially a child 24/7. Especially when you are still learning the ropes of a new world yourself. I wonder if there moments where Yuu almost resents him.

-🦐

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I think that depends on who is aware of the timeloop and if they ever found out Yuu's real name. If it was Yuu I could see them making a sort of persona out of "Yuu" to help them survive the turmoil of never getting a break, whereas if it was one of the boys... Ace immediately comes to mind... I could see that really messing with them as they are forced to realize just how messed up Yuu's situation is. Would they go and get Yuu's real name? Would they break and admit why they know and beg Yuu to work with them, to trust them, because all they want is to keep you safe? Could you even accept that?

I'd like to think so? I'm thinking about Uyoko Amnesia and his happy ending and he manages it just fine (eventually) but I do think there would be an adjustment period. The nightmares, the tragedy of all of it, the weight of your dead body in his arms... he would need a moment to pull himself together and know that's not real anymore, which would be easier for some of them than others. I don't think the nightmares would ever fully go away though.

You can pick certain dialogue options to be snippy with him, but if I'm honest I feel really bad for Grim. Yuu is seen as a person, even if their vulnerabilities aren't noticed, but Grim is only really seen as a person through his connection with Yuu. We don't know if he will get to stay at school if they leave, and no one else really has the option to be supportive of him and his goals to be a great mage. There certainly is room for that older sibling resentment, for Yuu to hate that they need to be there for Grim when an adult should really be parenting both of them, but there isn't one. It's just Yuu and Grim against a world that really seems to hate you.

As a side note, there is a lot of dialogue that suggests Grim does stuff on his own without Yuu, so I don't think that it's too much of a jump to think Yuu does get some time to themselves to explore. You can say you've been to Craneport before in the Portfest event and it will imply you have been there without Grim, so while it might be hard it isn't unrealistic, and honestly that relieves me. Yuu deserves a break.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #shrimp annon #that older sibling resentment for grim hits too close to home for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee #i get it #but i do wonder if it would be different for someone if they didn't have fundie parents like mine framing their mindset on it

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your-local-grubdog · 2 years ago

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Pikmin 4: Heritage Theory

Warning for MAJOR Pikmin 4 spoilers, including: various end of day conversations, post-credit events, late game piklopedia and treasure hoard entries, and also the final boss.

As a sort of re-boot of the franchise, Pikmin 4 introduces a lot of new ideas to the series. Among them is the idea that the various alien species in the game are much more closely related than we first realized - and perhaps more connected to PNF-404 than we would have ever thought in the other three games. I wanted to go over the various texts in the game that touch on this idea and talk about them a little because, hoo boy, the IMPLICATIONS. I call it a theory in the title for a lack of better wording but it honestly just feels like a canon fact that's never directly stated. There's just that much evidence, much of which all but outright says what happened.

Apologies if the images are a little low quality, Tumblr crunched them up badly. I provide image descriptions so hopefully that makes up for it.

As this has many end game spoilers (which, final warning for those), I'm going to assume that anyone reading beyond this point knows the basics of the game's story, world, and characters. Thus I won't be explaining every last little thing.

Somewhat early on, Olimar makes the following observation in his Voyage Log:

[ALT ID: Olimar's Voyage Log, entry 60, "Lost Civilization": Some of the objects I call treasure seem to be more complex than they initially appear. It makes me wonder... who made these? And where are they? I don't sense their presence here at all, but I suppose they could be hiding in the shadows, secretly watching me. END ID]

This vaguely threatening entry does confirm that the characters, or at least Olimar, are aware that there was indeed a civilization on PNF-404 at some point. It should also be noted that the Japanese website includes notes from another character who is also aware of the ancient civilization, though the canonicity of it is debatable. I'll get back to that "they're in the shadows, watching" line in another post, as it presents its own can of worms. For now, what matters is that the characters are aware that this planet was once inhabited and Nintendo is drawing attention towards that.

Where this starts to get weird and interesting is with Olimar's Treasure Hoard entries on the Heroic Shield, Memory Fragment (Center Right), and Buddy Display. I can't show all of their text in just one screenshot and the pikipedia hasn't added every treasure note to the Pikmin 4 treasures as of writing, so I'll only be including the segments most related to this conversation.

[ALT ID 1: Treasure Hoard, Olimar's Notes, Heroic Shield (segment): That would mean these living beings must have looked something like us... I wonder who they were and what their faces looked like. Could they have been our ancestors who migrated through space to our planet long ago? (the treasure is a pin showing the helmet of a human-style spacesuit) END ID 1]

[ALT ID 2: Treasure Hoard, Olimar's Notes, Memory Fragment (Center Right) (segment): I'm amazed that such a similar species could exist in the far reaches of outer space. I've heard that organic components can travel through space on meteorites and comets. Could there be a connection between my planet and this one? (treasure is of a puzzle piece with part of a dog's face on it) END ID 2]

[ALT ID 3: Treasure Hoard, Olimar's Notes, Buddy Display (segment): I can't find any evidence of them in any of the existing creature databases. But there's something familiar about them. It's almost as if I've met them before... I guess I'll chalk it up to an ancient memory that's been imprinted on my genome. (treasure is a photograph of two earth dogs) END ID 3]

There is so much to unpack here alone. Olimar straight up theorizes that there may be a connection between PNF-404 and Hocotate, even going to far as to propose if maybe the people of PNF-404 (or at least the people who made the Heroic Shield) may be his ancient ancestors. He does also theorize that a meteorite may have carried "organic components", which is technically possible, but I'm not sure how that would occur in a way that carries said components from one non-destroyed planet to another and leading to creatures evolving in eerily similar ways. Honestly, I'll chalk that one up to an early theory of his, a red herring on Nintendo's part, and thus not something to think about too much. Especially sense, in the Buddy Display, he considers his ability to somewhat recognize Earth dogs as an "ancient memory... imprinted on my genome". While I'm not sure of the science behind such a claim, we also have to take this from a story telling perspective - which is that Nintendo is all but screaming "there is a connection here". Not just in relation to the aliens and the planets, but also in relation to the dogs.

Speaking of the dogs, Olimar's notes on the final boss of the game presents yet more evidence to a connection - this time focusing more on the connection between Earth dogs and space dogs.

[ALT ID 1: Piklopedia, Olimar's notes, Ancient Sirehound (segment): These results would indicate that 99.9 percent of the canine creature's DNA matches Oatchi's, and that the only difference between Oatchi and Moss may be the natural presence or absence of a leaf tail. END ID 1]

[ALT IDs 2 and 3, as one naturally leads into the other: Piklopedia, Olimar's notes, Ancient Sirehound (segment): If these two theories prove to be true, it would suggest the possibility that this ancient creature is a common ancestor to two canine species from vastly remote star systems. And that, perhaps, there are even more hidden secrets out there that could hint at a fascinating yet inconceivable truth the universe has yet to reveal... END IDs 2 AND 3]

I'm not sure what else to say here; the evidence speaks for itself. The Ancient Sirehound and Moss - both from PNF-404 - closely match the genetics of Oatchi, who is from an entirely different part of the universe. For the Sirehound to be genetically related to Oatchi, then members of the Sirehound's species would have had to leave PNF-404 and migrate to other planets. Their care takers - humans - would have had to go with them.

I also find it worth pointing out that the Sirehound's arena is filled with various human items, such as shoes and toys. It's honestly a little haunting to find them so deep in a dark cave, unused by humans for who knows how long. The ruined toys in particular really get to me. We don't know how old the Ancient Sirehound in particular is, but the idea that humans once hid in this cave from something or that their dog brought the items here for comfort is really depressing.

[ALT IDs: various hard-to-see images of the human items in question, including: pillows, pipes. gardening tools, a fork, adult sized shoes, baby sized shoes, various children's toys, and other objects I couldn't quite make out. All of them are either partly submerged in water or at the very edge of water, leaving them covered in mud. END IDs]

I think by now it's safe to say that, yes, humans left Earth with their dogs at some point in time. Yet there are still MORE pieces of evidence to suggest this idea, this time coming from Shepherd's family history. Because we really needed to be beat over the head with evidence, I suppose. All are presented in numerical order as shown in-game.

[ALT ID 1: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 1: Thanks to the technology that has come from space exploration, our lives have grown much easier and far safer, and on-planet rescue requests have decreased dramatically. But as migration into space continues to grow, our services continue to be needed. So I'm happy to announce we are extending our rescue services to the frontiers of space! Signed, Paniya Shepherd, 82nd Captain. END ID 1]

[ALT ID 2: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 2: We've done it at last! We have flown to space! Out in this great, limitless expanse, not a sound can be heard. And yet, I can still clearly hear the pounding of my own heartbeat. Space--how it overflows with possibilities! There can be no doubt. This is one giant leap forward for our kind. Signed, Ed Shepherd, 65th Captain. END ID 2]

[ALT ID 3: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 6: The Shepherd family has lived with dogs from the very beginning. We understand that if we love and respect these creatures as we do our own--if we pay attention and observe their behavior closely--then we can break down the walls between our species and truly understand one another. Signed, Kain Shepherd, 16th Captain. END ID 3]

[ALT ID 4: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 7: "Beyond the sky itself there lies a beautiful blue planet." Those words have been passed down from captain to captain, calling to each of us. I can't imagine what sort of place this blue planet might be, but it's said to be home to even more dogs and folks that we have here. One day, I hope to fly beyond the sky...and into space. Signed, Maris Shepherd, 7th Captain. END ID 4]

[ALT ID 5: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 8: Many years have passed since we first began to make this land our new home. Still, we need more time to complete our environmental adaptations. In the meantime, we must survive so that, one day, we can pass down this new history to our children, and pass down the ways we've learned to rescue and protect everyone. One day we will live here in peace. Signed, Mark Shepherd, 2nd Captain. END ID 5]

[ALT ID 6: Rescue Journal, Shepherd Family History, entry 9: The surface! We made it at last! Finally, we can begin making a fresh start here on this planet. Of course, it will take many long months and years before what we've built here will be anything like what we once had. But we won't be alone. Our beloved dogs will be by our side as we walk this long, difficult road. Signed, Aral Shepherd, 1st Captain. END ID 6]

There is so much here, all confirming that ancient Giyans (and Captain Shephard's direct ancestors) 1) migrated to this new planet in search of a "fresh start" and 2) proceeded to migrate to other parts of space many generations latter. It also hints that they know of a "blue planet" - a common nickname for Earth - which is home to more people and dogs. Most certainly, it is the planet they came from - making Giyans human, or at least an evolution of humanity, and perhaps all other alien races in Pikmin 4 (from Hocotations to Koppaites to Ohrians to Conohanins to anyone else from the twenty one named planets (excluding PNF-404) in the series) are also descendent from Giyans. It would explain why they all look so similar in game - though we can safely assume that Hocotations are at least descendent from Giyans based on Olimar's notes. Further more, the leafling cure requires cells from a non-leafified individual who is genetically similar to the individual in question. We're never told how Yonny gets these cells (and, given we're talking about Yonny, I'm too afraid to even ask) but the fact that the medicine works for anyone regardless of what their home planet is suggests that they are, in fact, more or less the same species.

How different the various aliens look from Humans is easily chalked up to evolution. We know minor changes in height could, theoretically, happen within just one or two generations spent on a planet with different gravity than Earth's. It would make sense that this would be exacerbated over many many more generations, especially if the gravity is much stronger. Which, to quote the Pikipedia, "According to Brittany, the gravity on Koppai is roughly ten times stronger than on PNF-404." Given their matching heights, it's probably safe to assume similar applies to the other planets, and thus over the generations the people shrunk. Again, the exact scientific validity of this is questionable, but given the semi-fantastical nature of Pikmin I believe we can suspend our disbelief enough to let this story work. We already have to do that for how the Pikmin as a species function, after all. As for oxygen becoming toxic in the 8th history entry Mark Shephard does state that "we need more time to complete our environmental adaptations". Be these natural or artificially induced (as he is only of the second generation), it is again safe to suspend our disbelief to say that humans just adapted to these new worlds. Besides, Koppaites at the very least retained (or possibly gained back?) the ability to tolerate at least low amounts of oxygen.

The real problems come in the time frame and the loss of history. It's never stated one way or the other if people are aware of their ultimate connections back to Giya, so I won't discuss that, but it is very obvious they have forgotten their connection to Earth/PNF-404. Furthermore, it's made clear that the Giyans lost the ability to travel through space by the 7th generation and only regained it by the 65th. If they had access to space flight, they would certainly have archives of their heritage - and they do indeed seem to have some idea of what it is, given how Earth has become a legend. Yet, the Shephard family history as far back as the migration to Giya was preserved - why not anything else? The inconsistencies and questions make this part of the tale hard for me to ignore, yet we have no answers. This is pure speculation, but if I had to provide an answer I think a solar flare hit Giya and destroyed their technology, making them start over. Perhaps these early Giyain-Humans were so reliant on technology at this point that there were no books or oral traditions to preserve this heritage lost when the tech was destroyed? Though, somehow, the Shephard family would have to be one of if not the exception to this. Again, the previous is pure speculation, but it's the best we can do for the time being.

There's also the question of when and how Earth dogs changed to look like the Sirehound, which would of had to happen before the migration to space given that Oatchi has the same body plan. And then why did Moss's species become so much smaller?

Still, even with all these plot holes, I think it's pretty damn clear that Nintendo intended for our favorite little aliens to be the evolutionary decedents of humans. How and if they'll use this plot point remains to be seen, but it does open up a whole bag of opportunities for the universe of Pikmin. One that, frankly, deserves to be explored.

#pikmin #pikmin 4 #pikmin theory #borb screams #THIS TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE AAAA #I am open to discussions and questions btw

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thevoidscreams · 2 years ago

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Sorry, i lost the original post. But maybe something fluffy, honestly, most of the primarchs just need a nice stable partner. So maybe the primarchs in domestic situations. Or the other primarchs meeting konrad or pertarabos S/O and being surprised.

Yes. I love the idea of these two big sad boys having a snuggle bug ray of sunshine as a partner. Someone who can keep them grounded and happy.

Konrad:

His brothers stared in complete shock as Konrad stepped to the side and let your diminutive form glance out from behind him. Your smile is already the brightest thing in view, and they are speechless for a moment until you speak for the first time, and your voice is as soft and warm as the rest of you.

"Hello, it is so very nice to meet the brothers of my dear fiancé."

Konrad gestures to you in an almost gallant gesture, quite it of character for him and smiles. It's not a pleasant smile, even if it bares the genuine emotion of happiness that he feels. His cracked lips and dark eyes are just so that the look is somewhat off-putting. But his lips aren't as cracked, his dark eye bags not as dark, his gaunt skin not as unhealthy and pale. The faintest hint of a blush him on his razor-sharp cheeks.

"Yes.. my brothers, this is my intended. Aren't they lovely?" His voice was its usual rasping caw, but the humor behind it was finer than any of them had ever heard.

Horus was the first to step forward and greet you. His deep commanding voice vibrated through your whole body as you shook his hand. He certainly had a commanding presence, but the reassuring hand of your lover kept you from being shaken apart by it.

Sanguinius greeted you next, light and warm and kind, just as you had heard. He seemed very pleased to learn about you, and he was even happier to see the real joy you brought to the night haunter's eyes.

Magnus came next and stood before you. He swet down to one knee and took your hand in both of his. His one-eyed face was no less handsome than his brothers, and it certainly didn't detract from his smile in your opinion. "You are really quite a special one, I must say." He compliments, and you felt as though a warm set of hands had set over your whole body, as though they were getting a measure of you as a person on a far deeper level than physical.

"Well, you must pardon us now, brothers. I have to attend a brief matter with my darling. I will be back shortly."

After both you and Konrad had disappeared from sight, Magnus was the first to speak up. "He was happy! Really, truly happy. I've never felt such exquisite delight and hop from him before. That little fiancé of his is quite the find."

"Yes I must agree." Sanguinius shared, almost laughing with pure delight at the shift in his normally gloomy brother. "Did you see the way he looked at them? Like they were the light at the center of the universe."

"I did. I hope our brother is always this happy moving forward with them." Horus nodded, and the three of them smiled.

Perturabo:

You fit so snuggly in his lap, happily smiling and kissing the primarch's cheek when he came down close enough for you to do so. And he would return the gesture politely and with the faintest quirk of his lip. It was so faint that his brothers had to strain to really notice the smile.

"I see you have found yourself something that is to your liking, my brother." Lorgar said. He did not normally spend time with the Lord of the iron warriors, but they'd been in close proximity to one another, and so he'd stopped by to spend time with one of his kin.

"Why yes, I'd say he has. And who can blame him? Look how darling and vibrant the little sweet heart is." Fulgrim added, turning a fine glass of wine in his hand as he looked you up and down.

They both couldn't help but notice how, at ease, the larger primarch was with you by his side.

You were still nervous in the presence of other primarchs. It was hard to k ow how to act around them. They were all so different.

"Yes, they have brought a lot to my life." Perturabo agreed and held you tighter. He sipped his own wine and looked down at you. The gleam of satisfaction in his eyes made you melt into a happy like puddle against his chest.

The two brothers watched, and both seemed genuinely quite pleased that you were both happy.

"Well, this casks for a story, brother. You must regale us with how you met this sweet heart." Fulgrim locked his gaze on you and felt his own longing to have a wife again flare up. No matter how short their lives had been compared to his.

Perturabo breathed out a sigh, not with annoyance surprisingly, and actually smiled as he began to recall the day in precise detail. You piped up every so often with thoughts and details of your own.

Lorgar and Fulgrim listened or asked questions periodically, and you happily filled them in, more comfortable as the night went on.

Perturabo finished the story with a kiss on your cheek, and it was enough to prove to the brothers that it was real and that made them glad.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #40k #fanfiction #my writing #primarchs #primarch x reader #primarch #konrad curze #Konrad curze x reader #perturabo x reader #perturabo

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thegrunkiest · 1 year ago

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Overanalyzing the Spectral Assassin Dialogue

When there's a character with scarce material to draw from for writing, I tend to read into lines a lot, despite it being very likely that It's Not That Deep.

Lucien Lachance is no exception to this; in my opinion his comments in Skyrim actually offer more hints at his character than in Oblivion (aside from being very versed and pious in the Dark Brotherhood's doctrine - that's a personal interpretation I will not shake 😌). Wes Johnson, as always with his unique voices, also gives us some flavor and nuance to think on, whether intentional or not. Here are my personal takeaways from some of his dialogue!

"An ancient city, Markarth. Built by the Dwemer, the dwarves of old. To think, an entire race... eradicated. Not even I can take credit for that feat."

This suggests to me a bit of an ego. Given this comment it's safe to say he is quite self-assured in his skills and reputation, which I suppose can be taken as a healthy confidence, too. Either or! Though I like thinking arrogance personally.

Also... the way he utters "eradicated"? Sounds wistful, almost. Perhaps he derives personal, sick pleasure in the idea, or perhaps is pleased by the fact such a large-scale notion of death and discord would surely please Sithis greatly.

"You wish to kill me? Someone has already had that honor. Hah!"

"Ha ha! I've suffered worse!"

Could be taken as simple statements - because yes, obviously, he was killed and it was brutal... but what interests me is that he's laughing about it. He's not mad nor morose over his death. Perhaps he's grown to accept the circumstances over two centuries, or sees it as a theatric close to his personal legend.

"Someone has already had that honor" is a tasty tidbit that furthers this idea; I perceive this as an ego similar to the Markarth quote. He sees it as something of an achievement to have been killed: the infamous Lucien Lachance, acclaimed Speaker of the Black Hand, epitome of what the Dark Brotherhood stood for, finally taken to the grave? Be it for false accusations - with his death, no doubt the world became just a bit safer...

"Have you heard the tale of Mathieu Bellamont, and the Great Treachery of Cheydinhal? Kill a boy's mother, and vengeance festers in the son."

The famous line. To me this actually adds on to the above quotes - it's interesting just how... indifferent he sounds about it. He words it as though he's about to read us an Edgar Allen Poe story, rather than harp about some unfortunate events that ultimately destroyed - and prematurely ended - his life. Again, perhaps he's had lifetimes to come to terms with it, but it's just compelling how he's not outright angry. Which honestly? I feel like that'd insult Bellamont more than anything.

"Ah, yes. Solitude. Seat of the High King of Skyrim. Messy business, kingslaying. Ah, but so very satisfying..."

Oh yeah. He's undoubtedly killed a king in the past; it sounds here like he's speaking from personal experience. Take that as you will. Had it been a previous High King of Skyrim, giving a motive to his stated journey through Skyrim in his youth? I'm curious if there's any lore that could align timelines and point to who he could have assassinated, even if it could be chalked up to happy coincidence.

"In my time, the Blades protected the Emperor. It would seem these Penitus Oculatus will prove equally incompetent."

"My time saw the assassination of an Emperor as well. Alas, the Dark Brotherhood did not have the honor of that kill."

He seems to somewhat revel in Uriel's assassination though confesses some... envy, perhaps?... that it was not the Brotherhood's work. He also blatantly criticises the Blade's failure (ouch, man, don't do my boy Baurus like that!) I mean, it goes without saying his allegiance lies with the Brotherhood above anyone else, and he's evil and nasty, but these quotes convince me he doesn't hold any strong political stance. Complimenting the kingslaying quote and in tune with slaying the Emperor in Skyrim. Powerful targets are just high-prized game - and an acclaimed opportunity to orchestrate Sithis's will on a grander stage.

"Yes. Kill the chef, and then steal his very identity. For that is the true death."

This is most likely just some idle ruminations. It has me thinking nonetheless. Not out of the realm of possibility that he's assumed false identities himself to get to more valuable targets, of course.

I have some wild ideas that have branched from this though. What if?... what if he's stolen identities on a personal level? Aliases, if you will. Some serial killers are notorious for it (take H.H. Holmes for example). What if Lucien Lachance isn't actually Lucien Lachance? (Okay, this one's the total crackpot theory of the bunch but it was a fun idea to throw out there)

#lucien lachance #tes #dark brotherhood #tes 4 oblivion #skyrim spectral assassin #tes v skyrim #tes iv: oblivion #the elder scrolls #my headcanons #my writing #VS BS #headcanon

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strawhats-robin · 3 months ago

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I have a lot of Utena Episode 10 Thoughts, so oh boy here we go.

First of all, goodbye Saionji, I can't say I'm really sad to see you go due to all the slapping Anthy around you've done, but it was more bittersweet than I expected! We also get to see once again how cold Touga is under the surface when he immediately throws the correspondence diary in the fire.

It's interesting to see Utena so torn up about receiving Touga's help, even if he's really playing up his wounds. I appreciate the disclaimer at the party that she still doesn't like him, because he's sooooo shady, but it says something about how sweet and empathetic she is that she cares so much.

Anthy continues to be oddly all knowing with the present of the kitten, who is so very adorable. I hope it survives the plot.

Now, onto our new duelist Nanami and her relationship with her brother:

The lengths of her obsession with her brother reach new heights in this episode. Honestly, not just because of the kiss but mostly the cat. Nanami does seem to have regretted that somewhat, and it's certainly scarred her in some way, but not enough that she won't do the exact same thing again. She goes at Utena with so much aggression, all because she's taking some of her brother's attention away from her. It's too early for me to make guesses on where this will go for her character, especially with the way things ended. I'm curious to see, though!

It's also really intriguing how reminiscent the kiss to young Nanami's cheek and the delivery of her ring are to the kiss and ring Utena receives from her prince.

I'm genuinely not sure if it really was Touga, what with how this story uses symbolism, or if it perhaps was the prince figure we sometimes see acting through Utena acting through him. Given how he's always stirring things into motion from the background I wouldn't put it pass him to have been doing that even then, too.

By the end of the episode I also couldn't stop thinking about how Anthy also seems to be stirring things in all the fights. She gave the rose to Juri, played the piano for Miki, gave the cat to Touga which provoked Nanami into acting. I'm not sure how she knows to do all this, perhaps she has orders too?

It could be something else entirely though. Anthy is such a mystery.

And to end things I must say... Nanami looks so nice with bangs! She should consider keeping them!

#revolutionary girl utena #robin watches utena #nanami kiryuu

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offbeat-manga-ships · 5 months ago

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Do you have more fxm romance to recommend? Even better if the guy is masculine I'm a sucked for gap moe

of course! and i hope i'm being right in assuming based on our talk that you would want both straight up femdom and more subdued dom f/sub m dynamics when you say fxm.

—

the first thing that comes to mind is my favorite manwha who deals with the topic of actual bdsm: moral sense (aka love and leashes) [MAL / AL / MU]:

A seemingly clean cut office worker keeps his BDSM sexual fantasies to himself—until he discovers his co-worker a potential dominatrix? As they spend their time together, slowly understanding one another, the two end up having a rather unique master and servant relationship.

ji-hoo might not be the classic example of male lead masculinity we are used to seeing in manwha or manga, but for realistic korean standards, he's pretty much a dreamboat (definitely not in the pretty boy category). i would still say he's cute because i mean, he is a sub. but considering how tall and competent and charming in a every-day good-at-talking way, i'd say he's a prime example of the gap moe you're looking for.

—

going in a different direction, with a manwha that is way more subtle in the role rev/ersal-type of dynamic: agassiwa ureongchonggak (the lady and her butler) [MAL / AL / MU]

Lim Sooha is an independent woman who has it all: a busy career, a brand-new home, and an ever-growing pile of household chores. And the last thing she needs is a man to mess things up. But that all changes when one walks through her front door–literally! Homeless and desperate for a break, Taesoo begs Sooha to let him stay in exchange for keeping house. Tempted by the idea of coming home to a warm meal, clean sheets, and ironed clothes, Sooha agrees after Taesoo shows just how capable he really is…and claims to be gay. Could this be the perfect arrangement, or will Taesoo’s lie and Sooha’s conflicted feelings make a bigger mess?

Taesoo is a big big softie in the muscled tall body of a guy with a sharp sullen face. he's somewhat of a gentle quiet giant, except his character is deeper than that (it's a good manwha!). sooha may be a bit too closed-off to be called a dominant type, but she's no shrinking violet in the relationship either (in portuguese we might say she's just a bit of a 'locked' person, physically speaking to illustrate a particular disposition). i still tagged it as 'role rev' because, especially with this premise, it's something pretty apparent in how they both conduct themselves in their arrangement and relationship. even though i don't tag this one as 'dom f', i'm pretty sure she's still kind of assertive in the relationship in the moments that count. and honestly, i think i read this one before started this blog and it was a bit hard to tag so many manga i had read throughout my life only going by my memory of them. upon a re-read she might very well be dom haha.

—

going back to manga where the girl straight up doms him, we have souiu koto nara, watashi ga. ("if that's the case, then i'll do it") [MAL / AL / MU].

Kana Nagase (28) is the daughter of the company president, and she works as an ordinary office lady at her father's company. She has been in a secret relationship with her boss, Haruhiko Shindo (40), but she was worried that he has yet to make a move on her. (the rest of this synopsis was pretty badly translated, so i'm not including it to confuse folks.)

i don't have that much to say about this one because it's pretty short, but i'm sure it's like what you're looking for. done by a great mangaka who also wrote a manga i have a lot of love for (mori no takuma-san) and one i've been meaning to read for ages! (usotsuki lily. fr i VOW to start this one before the end of the year!!)

—

not sure if you've seen around my blog already, but onnanoko ga daicha dame desu ka? (ladies on top) [MAL / AL / MU] is also a she straights up doms him manga.

Mizuki seems like an ordinary office lady–tidy, cute, quiet, and looking for Mr. Right–but while she yearns for love, she’s left cold by traditional romances where men take the lead. Then, at the age of 24, Mizuki discovers Shinomiya, a seemingly perfect guy at the office who likes aggressive women, and something awakens within her. Together, Mizuki and Shinomiya learn that reversing traditional gender roles can be both liberating and exciting, especially in bed!

i would say he is 'masc' only or mostly in a japanese man kind of way (not to stereotype, but they do have different standards). it's particularly hard for him at first to give in because he is seen as such a successful man very on top of things (ha).

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i haven't done any edits yet to showcase it, but you can trust me that uri jibe wae wanni (who invited you?) [MAL / AL / MU] perfectly fits into the idea of a dominant girl and submissive guy without even touching on anything close to femdom: it's ye usual korean romcom manwha. one that i really love 🫶

Jade is told that her childhood friend from China is going to stay at her house. Yet, the grown man who arrives at her door is no longer the sweet boy from her distant memories, rather far from it. As she struggles to re-adjust to their new life together, will she rediscover her childhood crush or simply kick him to the curb?

unfortunately some people seem to have a disliking for the female lead in earlier chapters, but i was definitely not one of them. i love when the female lead is wilful maybe to a bit of a forceful, unwelcome (? more to the readers used to subservient always-nice women than the actual guy in question) degree; call it a flaw, i still love it haha i love the way she teases him in this playful but also borderline flirtatious degree and i love the way she thinks he is so cute. now, is he masc? liu yun is a bit more to the softer side (especially after his makeover. what a cute guy), but that gap moe you're after could easily be found here because he is still a closed-off serious person, but when jae gets under his skin there is nothing he can do hahaha i love it. honestly, they might be the couple i would want to get in a relationship with the most.

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another short one: waka danna wa, konzen koushou dekimasen. (pixie love) [AL / MU]

Masanari Yukimura is master of the hotel Yukitsubaki, which has been in business for 120 years. Being the only heir to the hotel, he needs a wife to start a family with, but there's a problem… he's so sensitive that the slightest tactile sensation gets him hard and coming. He's so afraid to scare girls away that he never gets very far with them. Meanwhile, the pixie who's been guardian of the hotel all these years decides she's the only one who can help him… by getting him used to touch!! A hot romcom with an uptight hotel master and a gorgeous-but-inexperienced pixie.

in terms of the sex scenes, i'm a huge fan of the way it starts: she really, really doms him and it's so satisfying to see this older proper guy be so undone by her hands. by the end, he's a bit more assertive during sex, but considering it was during particular scenes where he wanted to prove his feelings for her, i didn't really mind it, even though i missed the form of the early action. but he's still pretty vulnerable to his feelings for her and it's cute to see a man like him be in love so i thought i'd mention it.

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in ojou-sama ga mamorasete kurenai (my lady won't let me protect her) [MAL / AL / MU], a young lady is what people would call very competent and suave and princely and she's so good at being her own dashing superhero her bodyguard is vexed but also in love with her. read this a long while ago and wished the author would have done a bit more romance-wise, but i think it was still a nice read.

Ichika Kiryuin is the only daughter of a large corporation while Hayama Shuzuku was born into the Samurai family, that worked as bodyguards for generations and was taught to live only as a disposable shield. Hayama was ready to guard and protect Ichika, but as it turns out, Ichika, who has a strong physique, will be the one protecting him!

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i haven't been able to finish seishun no hekireki (a sudden incident in my youth) [MAL / AL / MU] but as far as i read, it's pretty much consistent that she is the dominant one in this relationship whether they are in their original bodies or body-swapped:

"If I'm not attracted to the things that most girls are attracted to… Is there something wrong with me?" Amane Shizuku has been worried about a possible sexual frigidity. She can fall in love with men, she's even dated some of them, but when things were about to go to the next level, her heart didn't throb at all. Due to this matter, she was about to give up on love, but when she meets the popular Kouki, her world changes… literally!!

he's a typical dashing high school cool guy, but she def shows him who's boss lmao

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if you're in the mood for straight up smut/borderline H (aimed at women), there is also agassiwa maid (lady & maid) [AL / MU]

An enormous fortune, a beautiful sprawling estate, and five adoring male maids… what more could a gal wish for? Yeon-Hwa Lee is living out every girl's fantasy when she suddenly inherits her grandfather's estate, including his five loyal servants. Bom and Yeong-Ho are so cute and adorable, Alexander is buff and sexy, while Won-Hu and Edward are elegant and cool. Their only desire is to service their mistress… and Yeon-Hwa simply can't resist.

yes, she fucks literally all of them as it's a harem manga, but it doesn't have any "final choice" as they're all her lovers. some of them are fem and some of them are masc and as said, this is just an ero manwha.

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now for another one of my absolute favs, takane to hana (takane & hana) [MAL / AL / MU]

Sixteen-year-old Hana Nonomura is forced to be the substitute for her older sister Yukari at a miai: a meeting between two people considering an arranged marriage. Hana's prospective suitor turns out to be the handsome heir of the wealthy Takaba company, Takane Saibara, who is 10 years her senior. He promptly shows disdain toward Hana and, in response, she tells him that she is equally unimpressed by his status and personality. Hana believes that her actions at the meeting should have put an end to the discussions about marriage with Takane. To her surprise, not only does the man want to proceed with negotiations but he also starts to show interest in her! This is just the beginning of a special relationship between two polar opposites!

this manga NEVER drops the ball. this tall rich and handsome business guy is an absolute sub and this tiny & funny high school girl is an absolute dom. both in a very comedic, but very present way. this man absolutely thrives under and loves hana's upper hand on him, even if he thinks like he wants to win (he is described by the author herself as an M who thinks he is an S). her absolute disdain at his immature quips and she way she puts him in his place was what sparked his interest in her. not in a virgin raise wa tanin ga ii kinda way, but in a chad takane to hana way hahaha it also never touches on actual dominance and submission but it still surprised me how hana at one point has a conundrum of the clash between being in a vulnerable state of being In Love but also maintaining her dominant position (because don't get me wrong, they both get off on it). and macacos me mordam, she actually DOES keep it. her way of accepting it and him into her life is still very Hana and i don't know how to look at what they have without it being through a dominant/submission and sometimes s/m lens.

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another shoujo i absolutely love (and is way, way shorter): beast master [MAL / AL / MU]

Leo Aoi looks like a crazy animal with wild eyes, and he goes berserk whenever he feels threatened and sees blood. That doesn't stop animal-lover Yuiko Kubozuka from befriending him, however. In fact, Yuiko is the only person Leo will listen to when he has one of his violent fits…

leo is pretty terrifying and violent when he goes berserk, but he is also a soft, nice boy who pretty much adopts yuiko as his 'master' (in an informal, unsaid way). she is a very chill girl and i love the way she shows him affection, even while they are still friends. while it's something not unlike friendships in my country, it's still kind of rare for japanese characters. it makes him absolutely besotted with her and devoted.

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you've already found this one, but it bears repeating that narita-kun wo semetai! (i want to be aggressive towards narita!) [MAL / AL / MU] has plenty of domf/subm moments between the leads (and narita is very much a cool high school boy in appearance)

Amane Fukatsu, a 2nd year high school girl, is an otaku whose hobby is posting her BL manga creations on social media. One day, she stumbles upon Narita-kun, a popular guy from another class, being attacked by a cat (?). Witnessing this scene of gap-moe, Amane is struck by inspiration…?! A cool otaku girl takes the initiative to relentlessly pursue a popular guy! A new-age romantic comedy filled with laughter and heart-warming moments.

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in o! naui wangjanim (oh! my prince AKA oh! my pharaoh) [MAL / AL / MU] the domf/subm vibes are not completely visible in the beginning, but by the time the guy is head-over-heels, it's clear as day who's the dominant one in the relationship. (there are no good synopsis for this one so have two of them to piece together what this is about haha)

The prodigy who took the world by storm, resigned just after joining the school! Fluent in eight languages from a tender age and capable at everything, he passed the judicial examination while still attending high school, and was dubbed "the Genius of Geniuses." However, there was only one thing this genius did not possess—proper parenting. One day, he got hurdled into a gang fight with a group of rowdy students, and didn't manage to dodge a direct blow to the back of his head with a baseball bat and thus fainted. When he came to, he realized that he was, unexpectedly, in Egypt?! Ancient Egypt: to be able to reign in a world where women are nothing, she stole the identity of her brother, the prince. With such a lie, to reign or to love, it will be necessary to decide! When his tutor arrives in his life, the meeting is electric. He has a big advantage: he comes from the future and knows the whole history of the kingdom perfectly!

i'm also obsessed with the way she is a bit of a lo/li (not really, she's initially a teen) who looks like a sho/ta who looks like a lo/li. i love when girls look like very beautiful kind of feminine boys (and when boys look like beautiful girls of course haha but for girls it's a bit rarer).

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i know you probably have come across this one already, but i want to give a shout-out to sunjeongmalgo sunjong (act like you love me!) [ MAL / AL / MU]

25-year-old Ji-Eon is stressed, overworked, and penniless. When a mix-up at a temp job has her spending a day as famous actor Do-Yun Nam’s personal assistant, she takes her anger out on a doll… which turns out to have the magical ability to control him at her every whim. Now it’s her turn to be the boss.

i actually wavered a bit on whether to tag jieon as 'dom f' or not. i think i did in the end because she is still very much in charge of the relationship at all points and even if she mostly sweeps him off his feet without realizing, i think she also has plenty of assertive moments. also, i swear to god.. (SPOILER)i literally said on a comment that it's bloody coward that the author hasn't shown them using the doll (who makes him do whatever she says) for sex yet and then LITERALLY A FEW CHAPTERS LATER they actually do use the doll for sex!! (though we can't see the scene, it's a romcom manga). jieon canonically sexually dominates doyun so like!!!(END SPOILER). but yeah even with this 'is jieon a dom-type?' wobble, rest assured. if there ever was a submissive guy, this one is it lmao. and he's the bratty mad-about-it type!

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this one i actually haven't read yet: gwiyeoun yasunim! (my cute beast) [MAL / AL / MU]

As the saying goes - never judge a book by its cover. Da-Im is a lovely elementary school teacher, as well as a savage who can rip anyone apart with the fiercest comebacks. On-Gyum is a florist with a heart of gold, who often gets misunderstood because of his intimidating looks. But as incompatible as they seem, their shared love of cats starts pulling the unlikely pair closer together… Here comes an upbeat romantic comedy between a sassy bunny and a sweet beast!

i always see this one around when looking for dom f/sub m/role rev manga and i'm always on the brink of reading this but i always start something else lmaoo. i'll get to this soon!

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well this is what i have for now! hope i managed to rec something to your liking. thanks again for talking to me so much the other day. i fr don't really have anyone to talk about manga with, i'm kinda relying on you guys loll thank you for delivering once in a while 😌

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