#i have not been able to stop thinking about this for SO long

[frogsandfries]

AAVE used to bother me. Just bother me, not piss me off, not make me like, wanna kill or anything. Just, why can't they use the language 'properly'.

The woman who raised me was the most racist person I think I've ever met (why no, I have never been to the US south).

But it's funny, because in school, I loved studying the US public school version of how English came to be. We didn't really know about proto-Indoeuropean at the time, but we knew about the influence of ancient Greek and German on the English language. Being a big reader and writer, I was obsessed with using the language "correctly".

I stopped writing for a long time because of reasons, and I was able to step back and really appreciate the value of literacy but also appreciate that there is no Proper English. The thing we skipped over in high school English and language arts classes is that contemporary English is not the same language it was when it first recognizably departed from vulgar Latin and German. It's not the same language as it was before its brushes with French and surely the Celtic language group.

It's okay for spoken language to be different from written language (but it's still "could/should/would HAVE" NOT "c/s/w OF"; pronounce it however you like, but understand grammatically what you're saying if you caption your own videos).

Furthermore, while I'm up here on my soap box, I wish my English teachers would have talked about creoles and pidgins as they are: There's nothing wrong with creoles and pidgins. It is human nature to want to communicate and connect and language is an integral part of that connection. But perhaps telling us that using the language in a non-standard way would have required a whole separate class for like, English theory. It definitely would've had more kids complaining "why do I even need to know the rules if they're all bullshit anyway". Me loudest of all.

Since stepping away from my childhood creative writing practice, I've gotten to participate more in the verbal use of language, and my visual arts studies definitely contributed to the way I see English--a centuries old creole, a language that has always been absorbing and adapting the languages it encounters. The reason I mention my visual arts background is, you know that picture of the vase but it's also two faces? Being strong in written English was me focusing so hard on the vase, I thought people talking about two faces were like, morally decrepit. Slang comes and goes, but the classical core of the language is definitely always there. Definitely. Always.

The internet has been a fascinating component to add to the mix of the English language (being not fluent in any other languages, I cannot and would not speak to the internet's impact on, say, ASL, US Spanish, or French, the only three languages that I'm familiar enough with to try to use on another human). Most of the evolution of the English language has typically come from teenaged girls, if my information is correct. Definitely, unquestionably teenagers. And in the last few years, we see every several weeks, a new slang word--yeet, bussin, ATE (whatever the hell that is)--enters the greater lexicon (we need to be able to communicate with these damn sacrilegious teens somehow!). The world moves so fast for these teenagers, today's 'ate' is literally yesterday's 'crunk'. It's 'cringe', if you will, by the time the adults get ahold of it. We do kind of need to hold onto some kind of core skeleton of the English language so that the oldest and most out of touch of us can still communicate with the linguistically hippest of us. In this regard, at least understanding the 'traditional' use and structure of the language since the shift from Middle English, and not necessarily being versed in prepositions versus passive language, is going to be important when trying to communicate from one group (let's say teens) to another group (let's say Louisiana creole).

And sometimes, the slang the adults get ahold of sticks--in contemporary history 'dude', 'whatever' as a one-word sentence, and 'my bad', are some examples. It's hard to tell which of 2025's slang words will have engraved itself so hard into the fabric of the English language that we're still using it in 2050, but even the words that are here today cringe in five minutes will leave their invisible mark on the ever continuing evolution of the English language.

Umm, anyway, sorry. I got a little eager to celebrate the English language as it actually is, not as it is in classic literature.

Even the teenage, rebellious use of the language (what even the fuck is skibidi??), while it bothers me because these days, it's less about differentiating yourself from boring grown-ups and I'm pretty sure, from a non-linguist perspective, just using language in as incomprehensible manner as possible as a bit. I respect the desecration of the English language; I'm quite confident that's what most of my peers wished they could do in high school English classes when we were learning about dumb, useless shit like superlative conjugates and coagulative transitives or whatever the fuck (for such a strong writer with an easily identifiable written voice in high school, I failed high school grammar. I found it incomprehensible and useless; I already had a powerful grasp of the way to use the English language, out loud and on paper. I didn't need to explain to anybody why you order adjectives the way you do; you just do).

See that, right there? I just did it. I just admitted that I don't find any use for the jargon of the "laws" of the English language. Because language is just a tool for communicating. As long as I can speak to you and you have even generally a vague idea of what I want (like my problem with 'ate' isn't *rolls my eyes* kids these days; my problem is, what is the etymology?? Why are you using that word like thhhaaaatttttttt *tries to shake an answer out of you*), I care less every day how anyone uses the language (except for c/sh/would OF vs HAVE I will bite you).

Now, (okay, sorry to carry on like this) as a creative writer, I am a straight-laced Dr Jekyll. Written language isn't about immediate communication. As far as I'm concerned, written language should be comprehensible between yourself and generations that don't exist yet. A dime novel may be meant to be read and thrown away, but even fifty years later, I should be able to pick up your cheap shitty writing and be able to read it and understand it. As far as I'm concerned, writing should not be littered with the slang of the moment. Like I said, today's 'skibidi' is tomorrow's 'jive turkey'. No, I did not make that up. I actually can't find one singular definition for jive turkey; it looks like there were at least three accepted ways to use it. I think it makes my point for me. If I write that John is a jive turkey, is he out of touch, is he unreliable or exaggerating, or is he being a showy dancer?

In my opinion, if you are educated enough to write essays, blogs, or more, you are educated enough to write in a way that will be comprehended by future generations of people who use your dialect. If that's Australian English (no shade, but you Aussies must know you use English differently from USians), if that's AAVE, if that's Louisiana creole, if that's US English, whatever.

In my opinion, the reason one makes the effort to write words (which is a different level from a Facebook or Twitter post or just making a phone call or sending a text), in a blog that will be gone in five years, in a cheap notebook that maybe you'll throw away, a nice journal that your great, great grand-daughter will find one day, or in that book that you self-published, is to preserve your words, your thoughts, in a way that will outlast 'apple butter' (smooth talk) and 'duck butt' (think Elvis' hair).

Plus, words on paper just should be beautiful. Imo.

not only are there no bad languages there are also no bad or annoying dialects

[heliosunny]

Hello, I really like your work with yandere characters! Your fanfic with the Crown Prince!Phainon holds a special place for me. But hey, listen! What about reader x self-aware!Phainon? Like, at some point he realized that he was in the game and decided to drag reader to him, because he has more power and influence in the game than outside it. It would be interesting, I think.

Entwined Realities

Yandere!Phainon x Reader

The Astral Express charted a course for its next destination: Amphoreus. You leaned forward, staring at the planet. "Woah, it's in the shape of an '8'". you mused, watching as the endless loops of landmasses interwove like an infinity symbol suspended in space.

Before long, events unfolded that led you to land on its surface with Dan Heng. The Eternal Land, as it was called, had a mysterious aura about it, a strange balance between old traditions and futuristic advancements.

You then met: Phainon, a strikingly tall and well-built warrior with silver-white hair and piercing blue eyes, carried himself with an easy confidence. Alongside him was Tribbie, a young girl with elf ears, fair skin, and red, fluffy hair.

Just as you began to explore Amphoreus further, an unmistakable growl escaped from your stomach. With a sigh, you reached for your controller, pausing the game before ultimately deciding to turn it off. The screen faded to black, and you stretched, rubbing your eyes after hours of playing. You needed food before diving back in.

------

As you turned away, a flicker of amusement in his expression as he folded his arms. "Huh. Strange."

Tribbie tilted her head. "What is?"

"That one. They left so abruptly. Like... they just stopped being here." Phainon’s fingers tapped absently against his bicep, his gaze still fixed on the spot where you had stood moments ago.

Tribbie let out a chuckle. "I didn't feel a thing. You overthink again."

Phainon had met many warriors, countless travelers—but something about you lingered. It was subtle, like an itch at the edge of his perception. The way your movements never faltered, the way events seemed to bend slightly in your favor. It was as if reality itself adjusted to accommodate you.

A faint sensation prickled at his skin, almost like the world had momentarily held its breath.

Then—nothing. The streets bustled as usual, the city carried on. But Phainon felt it. A small void, an absence of presence that shouldn’t have been possible. He turned his head slightly, scanning his surroundings, yet everything remained as it should be.

"They’re gone" he murmured, uncertainty crossing his face.

Tribbie raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Phainon hesitated, his fingers tightening slightly around his bicep. "No...nothing."

And yet, something inside him whispered otherwise. It wasn’t just departure, it was severance, like a thread cut from the loom of existence. He had never felt that before. A warrior’s instinct was to trust his senses, but this? This was something else entirely.

Shaking off the thought, he exhaled.

"I’ll figure out what makes them different."

Phainon frowned slightly, shifting his weight. A flicker of something unfamiliar coursed through him—a stray thought, an intrusive notion that he should not have been able to form.

Moments ago, everything had followed its usual rhythm: scripted interactions, predetermined movements, and a world that operated within set boundaries. Yet, the moment you vanished, something inside him had... fractured.

He had been left standing there, conscious yet purposeless, aware of the passage of time in a way he had never been before. The NPCs around him continued their routines, oblivious, unchanging. But he had stood there—waiting.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

He tested it, moving a hand before his eyes, clenching his fingers experimentally. He had never thought to do something like this before unless it was dictated by his programming.

Phainon took a slow step forward, the weight of his body feeling more real than it ever had. He wasn’t just responding to a command. He was moving because he chose to.

And then it hit him—

This world wasn’t real.

------

After satisfying your hunger, you returned to your seat, powering the game console back on. The familiar start-up screen flickered to life, and soon, you were back on Amphoreus. NPCs and traders greeted you once more. Everything seemed as you left it.

Yet, something felt... off.

You couldn't quite put your finger on it at first. As you navigated through the streets, looking for Phainon and Tribbie, an uneasy sensation settled in your chest.

Phainon stood where you had last left him, but his posture had changed. Before, he had been at ease, arms crossed with a confident smirk. Now, he was staring—directly at you. Not in the way other characters typically would, waiting for a scripted interaction, but as if he knew something. As if he had been waiting for you.

His blue eyes, once filled with warmth and bravado, now carried something else. Awareness.

"You're back" Phainon said.

The usual text box didn't immediately appear. The game hadn’t prompted you with dialogue choices yet, and that alone sent a chill down your spine.

Something had changed.

A glitch rippled across the screen. The colors warped, pixels distorting into a fractured mess before stabilizing. Your hands tensed around the controller as the screen darkened for a brief second.

And then Phainon moved.

Not in the way the game intended. Not within the smooth animations you'd seen before. He took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between himself and the screen. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, unblinking.

"You're not supposed to leave" he murmured, his voice reaching beyond the game, beyond the barrier of the screen.

Your fingers hovered over the buttons, your heart pounding. This wasn’t a scripted event.

Phainon lifted his hand—toward you.

The screen flickered again. Your vision swam. A sharp pull yanked at your chest, as though unseen hands had wrapped around you, dragging you forward. The world around you blurred, dissolving into an abyss of light and static.

The last thing you heard before everything turned black was Phainon's voice, quiet yet victorious.

"Now… let’s fix this together."

A dull ache settled in your head as you slowly regained consciousness. The air was still, almost too quiet, and a faint glow illuminated the space around you. Blinking away the haze, you pushed yourself upright, your fingers brushing against smooth fabric. It took a moment for you to process that you were no longer sitting in your usual gaming chair but instead sprawled across a bed in an unfamiliar room.

Panic surged through you as your hands instinctively patted your body. Your clothes—these were the same ones you had been wearing at home. Not some in-game avatar outfit, not armor or robes, but your regular, comfortable attire. A lump formed in your throat.

Where were you?

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stood cautiously. The floor was solid beneath your feet, the air carried a faint, artificial warmth, and there was an unsettling sense of sterility. The room itself was furnished simply—stone walls, a sturdy desk in the corner, and a single window covered by thick curtains. No personal belongings, no obvious signs of anyone else nearby.

You took a cautious step toward the door, pressing your ear against it. Nothing. Not a single sound outside. It was eerily silent, as if the entire world had been muted. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned got outside. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, stretching in either direction like an empty, endless corridor.

With careful, measured steps, you crept forward. The walls bore unfamiliar insignias, ones you had seen before but couldn’t quite place. Each step only heightened the gnawing sense of wrongness, a creeping realization tickling at the back of your mind.

And then, it hit you.

This place, the architecture, the symbols, the very atmosphere surrounding you—wasn’t just unfamiliar.

It was from the game.

This had to be a dream, some kind of delusion. But everything felt too real—the texture of the wood beneath your fingers, the faint hum of distant energy pulsing through the walls.

You weren’t just playing game anymore.

You were inside it.

Phainon rushed into the room, his usually confident expression faltering as he found the space empty. His gaze darted around, searching for any sign of you, before he quickly turned on his heel and made his way outside.

He found you not far from the building, standing frozen in the street, your wide eyes taking in the impossible surroundings. Without hesitation, he strode toward you, his grip firm yet careful as he took your wrist. "You shouldn’t be wandering around like this" he said, his voice laced with something unreadable. "Come with me."

Before you could protest, he guided you toward a nearby marketplace, bustling with figures in elaborate outfits that contrasted starkly against your ordinary attire. Phainon barely slowed as he led you toward a tailor’s shop, his grip loosening only when he stood before the merchant. "They need something more suitable" he stated, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

You hesitated, glancing down at your familiar clothes before finally voicing the thought that had been gnawing at you. "Phainon… how do I get back home?"

The weight of Phainon’s stare bore down on you.

"You’re not going home" he said.

"What?"

"I brought you here for a reason." He took a step closer, and instinctively, you stepped back. "You don’t belong in that world anymore. This is where you are now. With me."

"No. This isn’t real. This is just some glitch, right? I’ll find a way back." You clenched your fists. "I’m leaving."

Phainon exhaled, almost amused, almost pitying. "You think you have control?"

Your fingers curled tighter as panic surged through you. Desperation overruled fear as you focused, feeling the familiar weight of the baseball bat materializing in your grip. You didn’t question how—instinct took over.

Without hesitation, you swung at him with all your might.

But the impact never came.

His hand shot up, catching the bat mid-swing with terrifying ease. The force should have knocked him back, should have made him flinch—but he stood there, unmoved, fingers wrapped around the weapon like it was nothing more than a child’s toy.

Then, before your eyes, the bat shimmered, flickering with static before dissolving into cascading lines of glowing code.

"Wha—?" Your voice caught in your throat. You stumbled back, staring at your now-empty hands.

Phainon’s grip tightened slightly before letting the last of the data slip away into the air. "You don’t understand yet, do you?" He tilted his head, watching you with something akin to amusement. "This world bends to my will. Here, I am more than just a warrior. I am its ruler. And you—" He reached for you, but you jerked away.

"You have nothing."

Your mind raced. If Phainon controlled this world, then you needed an ally. Dan Heng. If anyone could help you, it was him. Without another word, you turned on your heel and sprinted in the direction you last saw him.

Phainon moved faster.

Before you could even react, he was in front of you. A sharp pain struck your temple as everything blurred. The world tilted violently, your vision fading to black before you could even cry out.

When you awoke, you were somewhere else. The air was heavy, unfamiliar, and the silence pressed against you like a suffocating weight.

Each time you tried, you discovered something new.

At first, it was small—a fleeting moment where the world around you responded to your thoughts. Like that one door that should have been locked clicking open. Each time you tapped into this power, you felt something unravel within you.

And each time, Phainon was there.

He found you the first time when you forced open a gate leading to the outskirts. He leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk before pulling you back before you could get far.

The second time, when you manipulated the gravity beneath you to leap across a rooftop, he appeared at the other end, effortlessly catching you mid-air and setting you back on solid ground.

The third time, you managed to shroud yourself in the crowd, blending in so well you thought you had finally shaken him. But as you turned a corner, there he stood, leaning against the alley’s entrance with an almost lazy amusement.

Each time, he grew more intrigued.

And each time, he stayed longer.

Phainon visited more than before, finding you no matter where you wandered. Sometimes, he merely watched. Other times, he engaged—teasing you, challenging you, indulging in casual conversation as if you were anything but his captive.

It made you wonder—did his friends ever question him?

One evening, while the sky burned a dusky orange, you finally asked, "If I agree to be with you, will you let me live more freely?"

Phainon studied you, expression unreadable. Then, he laughed softly, stepping closer until the space between you nearly disappeared. His fingers ghosted along your wrist, not quite holding but enough to remind you of his presence.

"Now, that's an interesting question," he murmured. "And one I might just consider."

The days stretched on. You wandered as much as you could within the confines of his reach, testing the limits of your newfound abilities. Sometimes, you found joy in the smallest acts of defiance. Other times, you felt the crushing weight of his attention.

One day, you encountered his friend. The moment you saw him, something about him caught you off guard. He carried himself with effortless grace, his beauty nearly mesmerizing, and for a brief moment, you forgot everything else. The encounter was fleeting, but it left an impression on you.

When you returned, you hesitated before asking, "Who was that? The one with golden eyes?"

Phainon stilled. His usual playful demeanor faltered for just a second before his smile returned. "Mydei" he said simply.

Something about the way he said it made the air feel heavier. You didn’t think much of it at first—until the next day, when he suddenly forbade you from leaving.

"You’re staying here today" he announced casually over breakfast. "No wandering off."

You narrowed your eyes. "Why?"

His smile didn’t waver, but there was an unmistakable sharpness in his gaze. "Do I need a reason?"

You didn’t let him off so easily. Rising to your feet, you grabbed his wrist before he could turn away. "Is this about Mydei?"

For the first time, something dark flickered behind his charming facade. He let out a slow breath, turning fully to face you. His fingers lifted, tracing the side of your face in a deceptively gentle motion.

"You have such a way of testing me," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder if you even realize it."

His fingers trailed down to your chin, tilting it just slightly as his blue eyes bore into yours. "Tell me," he continued, his tone smooth but laced with something possessive, "did he captivate you that much? Enough to make you forget who keeps you safe?"

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "This isn’t about safety, is it?" you challenged. "You’re jealous."

Phainon chuckled, though there was no real amusement in it. "Jealous?" He repeated the word as if testing its weight on his tongue. Then, he leaned in. "If that’s what you want to call it."

"You belong to me," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "So don't mention his name with that mouth of yours again."

This is going out of hand, and you must do something. A way to return to your own world, to get away from him.

You weren’t sure what you had done wrong. You've been trying to find your way back home so you messed with the system's rules, leading to whatever is happening in front of your very eyes.

Sitting before you was a system menu—one that shouldn’t have existed. It flickered, its edges distorted, as if the game itself was resisting your interference. Your heart pounded as you scrolled through the options, desperately searching for a way to force the game to release you.

Your fingers hovered over the last remaining command:

[Modify Event Flags]

A risk. A mistake. But you took it anyway.

A sharp chime rang in your ears, the screen flashing as the world around you trembled. The coding beneath your feet warped like rippling water, a sickening pull dragging you downward as the game executed whatever change you had triggered. Your breath hitched. This wasn’t what you intended. You had tried to bypass Phainon’s control, to force an event where he would let you go.

Instead, the world went dark.

When you woke, your surroundings were unrecognizable.

Gold and ivory silk draped over every surface, the warm glow of lanterns casting soft shadows along the grand walls. Ornate decorations stretched from the ceiling to the floor, the unmistakable scent of fresh roses filling the air. You blinked, your pulse quickening as you sat up, your fingers brushing against the embroidered fabric of an unfamiliar garment.

No. No, this wasn’t right.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

That voice.

You turned to see him.

Phainon stood at the edge of the room, adorned in a ceremonial ensemble far more elaborate than his usual attire. Silver-white hair, blue eyes gleaming with something unreadable. A slow smile curled his lips as he stepped closer, his presence consuming the space between you.

“What… is this?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Phainon tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face. “You should already know, shouldn’t you? You’re the one who triggered the event.”

“The event?”

His expression softened, but there was something in his gaze—something terrifyingly certain. He reached out, fingers brushing over your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Our wedding.”

Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs as his words settled into your mind. “That’s not possible—I didn’t mean to—”

“But you did,” he murmured, voice impossibly gentle. “The game has already set everything in motion.”

You scrambled out of bed, feet hitting the cold marble floor as you backed away from him. “No, I refuse this. There has to be a way to undo it.”

Phainon’s smile didn’t waver. “There isn’t.”

The weight of his words crashed over you like a tidal wave. The game had overwritten its own path. It had forced you into this event—one where every outcome led to you standing at an altar beside him.

His hand found your wrist before you could run.

“You’ve fought me at every turn,” he mused “And yet, here we are. Together. Just as fate—just as the game itself—has decided.”

You struggled against his grip, but it was firm, unyielding. “This isn’t fate. This is manipulation.”

Phainon chuckled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “Then tell me… do you really think you have a choice?”

The doors behind him creaked open, revealing an expanse of guests waiting beyond them—characters you had met, NPCs whose scripts had adapted to fit this sudden turn of events. They were all here for one reason.

For your wedding.

Your breath came fast and shallow as you looked back at him. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

His grip on you tightened just slightly. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you waste such a perfect opportunity. We're finally able to be together forever.”

You knew then—you were trapped. The game had sealed your fate. You only hoped to get away from him with an error, an event, anything. The system gave you this. You had your choice, but this event involved Phainon, how tragic. And Phainon… Phainon had never looked more satisfied. If it's something he can manipulate, surely he won't let you have your way.

“Now,” he murmured, leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Shall we begin?”

[ddlydevotion]

dating hamzah al-emad includes...

currently listening to: lust for life by lana del rey ft the weeknd ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Hamzah quite honestly doesn’t have too much experience when it comes to romantic relationships. He’s constantly worried that he’ll do or say something wrong, so please reassure him when the situation calls for it.

he lovelovelovess having you around him as much as possible. You honestly could never “bother” him, even if he’s editing/coming up with video ideas. One day you asked Hamzah if he’d like some alone time to get some editing done and he immediately said:

“no-what are you talking about? Here, come sit down.”

You’re one of the very few people that don’t easily overstimulate him lmao

This man has insane attachment issues when it comes to you and has no issue letting you know when he misses/wants to see you. You could be out of the apartment running errands and your phone will be filled with messages from him.

‘me and the cats miss u very much btw if u even care…’

‘when are you coming homeee ;(‘

Please don’t be shocked when he comes up to you asking for very specific things that he may need for a video involving Martin. For example, where do you think he got the skirt for his White Chicks costume? Exactly.

Even if someone is meeting him for the very first time, they’ll immediately be able to tell he has a girlfriend because he’s constantly wearing something symbolic of you. That bracelet you randomly made him one night? It’s practically glued to his wrist. Your claw clip practically has a home on his belt loop. So, these little things make it pretty easy for people to decipher the fact that he’s taken.

Recording with Martin takes up quite a bit of his time so he’s constantly putting in the effort to see you, hear your voice, and speak with you in general. You’re constantly receiving photos/videos/voice memos from Hamzah when he’s in the middle of filming.

He always makes sure to bring you something back when Martin and him visit a restaurant, or a location that’s stocked up on items he knows you enjoy.

Hamzah has been through a whole lot and has experienced his fair share of loneliness. He isn’t too good with his words/voicing just how much you and your presence mean to him but he tries soso hard. There’ll be a lot of sighs and stutters filling the pauses in his sentences but that doesn’t stop his adoration from shining through.

“I just- I love you so much, y/n. I hope I say it enough, y’know? I’m really serious about you and I know I might not be the most experienced guy when it comes to this, but I hope that doesn’t make you doubt how serious I am about you. Because I am- serious about you, I mean.”

These sorts of conversations tend to happen late at night when the warmth between your two bodies blossoms endlessly. He holds you tight as your cheek is pressed against his chest. He can’t help but hold you the same way he’d hold a knife.

In his eyes, the two of you are in this for the long run and he doesn’t hide his intentions of marrying you. He even slipped up and called you his wife in a video once.

‘Yesterday, me and my wife- well…make that my future wife.’ and then a cheesy lil smirk spreads across his face 😭

He even made the both of you in Sims and made it so that the two of you got married. Mandy and Martin couldn’t help but tease him about it.

He loves you with his entire fucking being and he wants nothing but to be good for you, good to you, be the one to make you smile, laugh, feel at ease. He adores being able to do domestic activities with you since it gives him a glimpse into how it’ll be like once the two of you eventually get married. As I said, he puts in soooo much effort into making you happy so he definitely attempts to get good at cooking so he can surprise you with breakfast in bed/homemade dinner. He stills puts in the effort to learn how to cook even if you already know how to. He wants to surprise you so bad so pls let him (╥‸╥) (even if the French toast he made is a lil burnt)

Follows you around like a lost puppy. His hand is constantly reaching for yours, his arms are instantly wrapped around you as soon as the two of you get into bed, he always makes room for you to sit in his lap.

a/n: I haven’t written in quite awhile but I had to come back since my obsession with this man has worsened this past week 😞. Feel free to send requests 💌🧸

[poorrichardjr]

Ok, I can agree with both people here to some degree, though I think a few things should be brought up.

First, Gore actually won the popular vote in Florida. The Supreme Court stopped the recount that proved that Gore actually won, by a very slim margin. Second, instead of blaming Nader, as most mainstream democrats do, why don't they blame Jeb Bush for purging hundreds of thousands of people from the rolls who were alive and able to vote simply because their names corresponded to names of criminals in other states. This is still done btw every single election in republican run states.

Second, I don't blame all of the voters in the last election, republican or democrat. I don't blame the people who have no time to do the research because they work 60+ hours a week, have families to take care of and spend time with, or those who gladly lapped up the propaganda about Biden and Trump.

There is a caveat to that thought though. Being an informed voter is the responsibility of the people voting. Are you as a voter doing anything at all to learn about the candidates? Are you only getting your information from Fox and the like or RT or Sputnik or whatever? If so, you are slurping up that good ole propaganda and learning virtually nothing. Don't get me wrong, a lot of media outlets have some form of propaganda or slant to their news, but in aggregate, it isn't hard to determine some basic facts about a candidate even with all the partisan BS.

Believe it or not but Trump was not a normal republican president last time. He was crass, cruel, and tried numerous times to do things that his staffers said and warned him were illegal. He was impeached twice for doing things that no other president had done, especially inspiring the coup on January 6th. He also nearly led us into war with North Korea and Iran. We were on the brink of war with North Korea, and suddenly things changed when Russia spoke with both Trump and Un. What did they say that changed the heat? They probably told Trump that Kim wasn't really that bad and that he should be the bigger man and do some outreach, and they told Kim that all you had to do to get anything from Trump was flatter him, because he is an absolute moron.

Biden wasn't a great president, but honestly he really only did two terrible things. He appointed Merrick Garland to oversee the DOJ, and though he was a great prosecutor, he moved far too slowly and initially only focused on the foot soldiers of the insurrection. He never even went after all the congress people who were also deeply involved. Other than that, Biden did what he has always done his entire career and that is to support Israel. He would not use his presidential influence to curb what was happening in Israel, and that turned a lot of good people away from him.

Kamala wasn't really in the running long enough to get a good footing, and she didn't try to differentiate herself from Biden that much, simply because much of what Biden was doing worked. Jobs were up, the economy got much better than the rest of the world, and actual wages were going up for the first time in nearly thirty years.

In the end if you listened to Trump for a single hour and Kamala for a single hour their demeanor, ideas, and temperament should have been enough to get people to do the right thing, but it wasn't. The blatant racism and cruelty espoused by Trump wasn't enough. The knowledge that Trump would support anything Israel wanted in Gaza wasn't enough. The constant lying and whining about 2020 wasn't enough. In the end, if you couldn't guess that some of what is happening now and what could be happening soon was on the table, then you were a fucking idiot or so deeply into a partisan whole that you really didn't care.

Americans failed in their responsibility, and now they will be paying the price for their inability to take this seriously.

Just to be a clear, I am not a democrat, and yet I have voted for them in the last three elections because only a god damn moron couldn't see what Trump is. I hated Hilary because she was untrustworthy, despite my same opinion that she was probably the most qualified candidate for that position in decades. I hated Biden because he really is part of the reason we have many of the problems we have today, and he has been out of touch with a lot of America for years. I had no problems with Kamala, except that she was embracing the right-wingers who gave us Iraq and the quagmire that was Afghanistan and didn't do enough to try and get democrats to vote for her. You can criticize Trump all day, but republicans don't care and are going to vote for him anyway. She needed to rebuild the coalition that was disintegrating because of Gaza and the DOJ's inaction.

[cupidbedsy]

i would love a part two to the quinn neglecting you blurb :)

✿ CUPID'S FLORAL SHOP ✿

here's a freshly picked restless rose 🌹 !

warnings: quinn feeling like an ass, wrote on my phone so i don’t know how grammatically correct this is

word count: 740

florist cupid: the long awaited part two ! i’m so glad everyone liked this, i honestly didn’t think it would go crazy the way it did but im thankful it did.

it was about an hour that quinn was out of the apartment, thoughts racing through his head as he walked down the street. he’d shoot a weak smile and give a small wave to those who called out his name, even stopping to sign something once and a while.

but for the most part, he spent his time in his own headspace, thinking about the vents that had happened in the past couple hours. he’d been neglecting you for weeks. how could he not haven seen it?

at some point during his walk he stopped outside a flower stand, eyes trailing over each and every flower, finally settling on a small bouquet of one of your favorite flowers, making small talk with the older lady who was working the stand.

“special date tonight?”

quinn looked at her sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “no i uh… kind of messed up.”

the lady gave him a knowing smile, finishing wrapping the flowers nicely. it was silent for the next few moments before she handed the bouquet to him. he went to take out his wallet but the woman just shook her head with a fond look on her face, “don’t worry about it.”

quinn fumbled, almost dropping his cash on the ground, “are you sure? i couldn’t just-“

“is she important?”

he nodded instantly, “yeah, most important person in the world. she um-“ he let a smile tug at his lips and tears prick his eyes, “she’s everything to me.”

“then it’s no big deal. you only get one of those girls, don’t lose her now.”

quinn thanked her again, walking away from the stand, but not before slipping money into the small jar.

━。゜✿ ゜。━

when he got back to your shared apartment, he played with the zipper of his jacket for a few moments before sliding the key in and unlocking the door.

you hadn’t moved from your spot on the couch the whole time he had been gone, you were too engrossed in your thoughts to move.

the sound of the lock unlocking stirred you from trance, snapping your head to look at the door.

quinn looked even more tired than when he had left, his hair messy as if he had been running his hands through it nonstop on his walk.

your eyes found the flowers in his hands, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you spoke softly, “quinny.”

he gave you a weak smile, slipping his shoes off and walking over to where you now stood. he handed you the flowers, the fingers on his free hand intertwining with yours.

he leaned down, letting your forehead rest against his. he played with your fingers, his and yours breathing being the only sound you could hear.

“they’re beautiful… thank you.”

“i’m sorry.”

you peered up at him through your eyelashes, taking in his guilty expression. you detangled your hand from his, reaching up to cup his face, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, “quinn-”

“i’m sorry.” he repeated, placing his hand on your hip to draw you closer to him, “i shouldn’t have pushed you aside, i shouldn’t have been so absorbed in the team and i should’ve been taking care of myself. you’re the most important person in my life and i wouldn’t have even been able to get through this past year without you, i shouldn’t have taken you for granted.”

you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. tears welled in your eyes as you listened to him talk, hanging on every word he said. you knew he was sorry, you knew he didn’t mean to do this, but he did and it happened.

it was a rough patch in your relationship, but you would get through it, you knew you would.

he frowned when he saw the tears in your eyes, moving his hand to grasp yours again, “don’t cry, please. you know i hate when you do, especially if it’s because of me.”

he took the flowers from your hand, placing them down on the coffee table to bring you into a hug, cradling your head to his chest.

“i’ll make it up to you, i promise even if it’s the last thing i do.”

“don’t need to make it up to my quinn,” your fingers grasped at his sweater, clutching it like a lifeline. “you’re here now, and you apologized, not that you needed to, but that’s what matters. you’re here now.”

back to the shop ! ; navigation !

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 4)

The final two weeks before Agatha moves to Albany

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of sex, fluff

The following Sunday, Agatha drives you to Albany so you can look at apartments with her. She found three online that she really likes and is hoping that she can sign a lease today. 

Since her new job starts next week. 

You’ve never exactly known what she does for a living — you never really cared to ask when she was married to your dad and once you got together, she just kind of assumed that you already knew — so you have to ask about three times for what this new position entails so you can try to work it out. 

So far you’ve gotten that she advises the company on how to raise capital, financial modeling, legal and compliance issues, and general advice. She did try to explain what she does when you found her looking over a contract one night, but it went so far over your head you didn’t realize she had stopped talking until she kissed you to bring you back to earth. Agatha did say investment banker once, but even with all the job descriptions, you’re still not sure you actually understand. 

“All right, here’s the first one,” she says, squeezing your hand that’s interlocked with hers over the center console, and parallel parking on the street in front of a high-rise building with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. You peer into the lobby to take in the crystal chandelier, dark floors, and mahogany wood panels on the wall by the elevator. “See, it’s not that bad of a drive. As long as you leave pretty early Saturday morning, you should be able to get here in under two hours.” 

You look at her and shoot her a smile. Agatha’s been overly nice to you the past week, telling you how pretty you are and how lucky she is and buying you flowers and cooking you all your favorite foods, so you’re trying to just sit back and appreciate it. 

She took the job. You told her it was okay. All that’s left to do is accept it. 

“It’s really nice,” you tell her, turning back to the building. “It’s in a good area, too.”

Agatha turns the car off and unbuckles her seatbelt. “Only about ten minutes from the office, so even better. And it’s not too far from the interstate for traveling to and from here.”

Another thing she’s been doing is talking about how much you’ll be able to come visit and vice versa. It should be reassuring, but it just feels like she’s overcompensating slightly to make the move sound better than it is. 

It’s not fair to still be upset because Agatha is trying. And you are feeling good about this, you feel secure that what you two have is real and strong, and you’re going to start working on your application to the University at Albany this week. If you get in, you’ll start in January, which really only means four months of long distance, and you know you’ll both make an effort to see each other on the weekends and during breaks. 

When you put it like that, the pit in your stomach lessens. Your tendency to overthink and blow up problems in your head is definitely something you need to work on. 

The moment you step out of the car, the first thing you notice is the smell, almost like rotting plants and sewage. You wrinkle your nose and Agatha walks around to you, the same expression on her face. 

“Think you’ll ever get used to that?” you joke and she solemnly shakes her head. 

“Guess I’ll just need to bury my nose into something else until I forget it,” she says with a wink and you laugh before following her up to the glass door of the apartment complex. 

There’s a man sitting at a desk, maybe about ten years older than you and wearing a flannel shirt, typing something at his computer, and he doesn’t look up at you until Agatha clears her throat and taps her fingers on the counter. 

He raises a bushy eyebrow, unimpressed and annoyed that someone dared interrupt him. “Can I help you?” 

Agatha tosses her hair back over her shoulder and straightens up. “My name is Agatha Harkness and I made an appointment to see a two-bedroom.” 

The man sighs and taps his mouse. “Yo, Dottie,” he calls, swiveling in his chair to face an open door to the right of him, “I’ve got a ‘Harkness’ here to see the two.” Whoever Dottie is, you hope she’s friendlier than this man. Even his mustache seems to be frowning at you. 

A tall, blonde woman steps out of the room, beaming brightly at you two, wearing a brightly colored floral dress. She walks around the desk, shakes both your hands, and introduces herself. 

“Wonderful, wonderful,” she claps her hands together and you wince at the loud sound in the otherwise-silent lobby, “let me get the keys and then I’ll show you and your daughter the model apartment on the seventh floor and then the one that’s open, which could be yours! We also have some specials on leases if you sign one within twenty-four hours of your tour, which I’ll go over after this.” 

Dottie waves you along and you catch Agatha’s eye behind her back, mouthing your daughter? at her with an amused smirk. Agatha playfully rolls her eyes and swats your arm. 

You still remember the first time she took you out in the spring, when the waitress had assumed you were a couple. You had choked and almost died from coughing so hard, flabbergasted at the thought that anyone would look at you two and see anything other than a mother and her daughter, even if she was your step-mom. 

But now, it kind of bugs you that someone does see you that way. You’re almost tempted to see what Dottie would say if you kissed Agatha or if Agatha squeezed your ass. 

Dottie’s rambling about the safety features of the elevator as she presses the button and you stare at the reflection of yourselves in the bronze doors, blurring the sound of her voice out. You watch Agatha nodding attentively and you probably should be paying attention, but you just can’t. 

Something about looking for apartments with Agatha seems so surreal. You had helped her pick out the one in Westview and it felt like you were picking out a place for the two of you, even knowing you were going to live at the dorms. 

But now, you’re picking it out for her and she’s breaking her lease on the apartment you shared. 

It’ll be back to being both of yours in January, you remind yourself. 

The elevator doors slide open and the three of you step into it, the tile a fancy black marble with gold cracks and the walls a dark wood with the top half covered in mirrors. Dottie touches the fob to a pad and then presses the button for seven. 

“It only lets you get to the floor that you live on, and the roof for the pool and the game room. We take our security very seriously,” she explains and Agatha hums before looking at you for your approval and you nod like you’ve been paying attention this whole time. 

She takes you down the hall and pauses in front of a door, fumbling with the key ring and then finally inserting one into the lock. She pushes it open and lets you and Agatha step in first. 

The floor is a cool gray color, all white walls except for the blue accent in the living room, and it’s pretty spacious. The kitchen has an island with quartz countertops that match the other counters against the wall, all stainless steel appliances, a double oven, and a hood over the stove. The backsplash is green and blue and gray tiles. There’s a deep sink and three pendant lights over the island.  You have to admit it looks really good.

“Wow,” Agatha says, tracing her fingers over the countertop and crossing the threshold into the living room, where the floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city of Albany. It’s the model, so there’s comfortable-looking couches around a coffee table and a rug, facing a television on an entertainment center. Even with all the furniture, it’s easy to imagine exactly where Agatha’s stuff would go. 

You follow her into the first bedroom, the bigger one. It has the same windows as the living room and your only thought is that Agatha will certainly need to invest in some curtains if she picks this place. It’s a huge room; Dottie tells you that the bed in there is king-sized and there is still plenty of space for the nightstands and lamps and dressers. The walk-in closet is probably half the size of your dorm room right now, and there’s a standalone shower next to a tub across from the double vanity in the bathroom. 

“This is nice,” Agatha whistles and you nod your head in agreement. 

“Let me show you the other bedroom,” Dottie says and leads you to the other half of the apartment. “This door closes off the hallway to the second bed and bath, so plenty of privacy. Will your daughter be living with you?” 

It’s hard not to laugh when you and Agatha glance at each other out of the corner of your eyes. “Um, no, I go to college in New Jersey. But I’ll be visiting a lot,” you answer, and then, just for the fun of it, add: “How thick are the walls, though? Like, apartment to apartment.” 

Agatha stifles a laugh that turns into a cough and Dottie looks back over her shoulder. “We don’t get a lot of noise complaints. If you’re worried about the TV being too loud, it shouldn’t be a problem because the living room is in the middle of the two bedrooms. But if you’re watching something in either bedroom, there’s a chance a neighbor might be able to hear a bit of it.” 

“That’s exactly what I was worried about,” you mumble and Agatha nudges you, even though she’s smirking too. 

The second bedroom is a bit smaller than the other, but still a good size. This one has a window-sill and only one long window and the closet is only about half as big. The bathroom has an alcove tub and matching countertops to the other bathroom and a lot of cabinet space. 

Dottie also shows you the three extra closets for extra storage and then takes you to the empty apartment on the ninth floor. 

Agatha walks around, gesturing wildly with her hands and pointing out where things could go, while you trail after her like a lost puppy, occasionally adding a yeah and I like that and I think that’ll look really good. 

Seeing her plan the space feels like a hammer in your gut going it’s happening it’s happening it’s happening over and over again until it almost overwhelms you, but Agatha is so engaged in it that she doesn’t even notice. You’re being completely irrational. Everything is fine.

“So, what do you guys think?” Dottie asks when Agatha finally stops and comes to stand next to you as you’re leaning on the island and picking at your fingernails. She puts a hand on your lower back and you stiffen, eyes darting up to look at Agatha, who’s looking back at you inquisitively. 

“Could you give us a second, Dottie?” It’s clear from Agatha’s tone that it’s not a question and Dottie gives you both a tight smile before leaving the apartment. 

You rub your forehead, trying to stave off a headache you can feel slowly budding, and walk over to the windows. Her footsteps are soft and then she’s wrapping an arm around you to pull you into her and kiss your head. 

“You know what I’m thinking about?” she asks and you hum inquisitively. “Fucking you against these windows so anyone down below could look up and see how well you take me. See how good of a girl you are for me.” 

A burst of heat flashes through you but you smirk, not being able to pass up the opportunity to make a joke. “That’s quite an inappropriate thing to say to your daughter.” 

Agatha snorts. “Good thing Dottie isn’t here.” And then she softens against you. “Do you like this place?” 

You shrug. “It’s pretty nice. Aren’t we going to go look at the other places though?” It’s a stupid thing, but you feel like it’s not real until she signs a lease. And maybe you just want to keep it not real for a little bit longer. 

She makes an equivocal sound. “This one did look the nicest online. And honestly, I really like it. I can definitely see myself living here. I can see us living here.” 

“Okay,” you say softly, melting on the inside. As long as she’s picturing you here with her, you’d be good with anywhere. “I think this is the place, then. Let’s go tell Dottie, mommy.” You go to move but instead, she turns you by the shoulders and grabs your cheeks, pulling you in for a long kiss and then gives you another one for good measure. 

“You are so perfect,” she says against your lips. “I l—” 

The door opens and you jump back from Agatha and whirl to find Dottie standing there. Your cheeks heat up, but she doesn't look scandalized so you’re guessing she didn’t see anything. “How’s it going in here, ladies?” 

Agatha gives you one last look-over, giving you all the time in the world to object, but you just swallow hard and nod. “Dottie, we’ll take it,” she says and you plaster a smile onto your face when Dottie gasps and exclaims excitedly. 

She ushers you back to the lobby and leaves you sitting at a desk while she runs off to go print out papers. You’re tapping your foot impatiently when your phone buzzes. 

Thinking it’s just one of your parents — you didn’t actually tell either of them that you were going to New York — you pull it out of your pocket. 

Hey, it’s Carol. Want to get dinner tonight? You vaguely remember giving her your number the night of the party last week. You’ve only seen her once or twice since then and the first time, she asked how you were feeling, and the second time, she shot a finger gun at you. 

“Who’s Carol?” Agatha murmurs, having leaned over your shoulder. You fight the instinct to turn your screen and type back, Sorry, out of town tonight. Rain check? before slipping it back into your pocket. 

“Just this girl that lives in the dorms. She was the one who drove me to your place when I was hammered last Sunday.” 

“Ah.” She’s opening her mouth to say something else when Dottie comes back over and plops down a thick packet and starts rattling off the rules of the complex, the extra fees, and where to sign. Dottie says because you’re not living here full-time, you don’t have to fill anything out and you inwardly sigh in relief. 

Agatha barely looks at the papers before signing her name in big cursive letters and you can’t help but long for that kind of financial security and stability, where you don’t even have to worry about the cost of rent. When you do transfer and if you do end up living with her at any point, you know she won’t let you pay for anything, but you make a mental note to start looking at jobs, maybe even just part-time, so you can buy her things with your own money. 

“Perfect, let me just run a quick background check on you, make sure your credit is good, and then I’ll get back with you. And you want to move in…?” 

“Next Saturday would be great,” Agatha says and your foot starts bouncing even more erratically. Dottie leaves to go back into the office and Agatha’s head drops back to look up at the ceiling. “That means I need to set up electricity, water, internet, I need to schedule movers, I need to talk to my complex.” She groans and sits back normally, rubbing her face with her hands. 

You’ve done the whole moving thing a few times and it absolutely sucks so you reach over to pat her leg. It’s the first time you’ve seen her even the slightest bit overwhelmed with all this and it’s honestly refreshing. “I’m here. Anything you need, I want to help.” 

She gratefully smiles and leans across her chair to give you a kiss on the head. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“Um, you married my dad.” Agatha wrinkles her nose but laughs anyway, resting a hand on top of yours that’s still on her thigh. It’s an anchor for both of you and neither of you move until Dottie comes back about five minutes later. 

“All right, you guys are all good! We will see you next week. Any more questions?” 

Agatha stands up and shakes Dottie’s hand. “I think we’re okay. Thank you so much for all your help.” 

The drive back to Westview is filled with mindless chatter and no mention of the move. You make plans for the week — you’ll stay with Agatha every night, she’ll cook dinner, movie night on Tuesday, picnic in the park on Thursday. She knows that school is starting to pick up for you, so it goes unspoken that you’ll be doing homework with her. 

“And of course, plenty of sex,” you add when she asks you if there’s anything else to plan for. 

“Oh, sorry, was that not implied?” Agatha simpers and her hand sneaks its way into your lap, dipping under the seat belt to play with the elastic of your leggings. 

You let her slide inside and let out a small moan when she brushes a finger against your clit through your underwear. “Better keep your eyes on the road, mommy,” you say tightly.

“I can multitask.” 

She rubs your clit and you shift in your seat to give her easier access to you. It’s an odd angle — her wrist is bent in a way that is surely uncomfortable — but Agatha is determined to make it work. She teases you slowly and before long, you can feel how wet you’ve become. Your breathing has deepened, cheeks hot, and you start to roll your hips to get more stimulation. 

“Mommy, please,” you beg, and she looks over at you to say something when the car in front of her stops suddenly. Your stomach lurches. “Watch out!” 

Agatha slams on the brakes, sending you both flying forward, the seat belt putting an immense amount of pressure on you, and she yanks her hand out of your pants to put her arm in front of you. 

The car screeches to a halt about two feet from the one in front of you. You’re both panting and Agatha tosses her hair back before assessing you. 

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly. You nod, still gripped by a cold sweat. She takes a deep breath and puts both hands on the steering wheel when the cars begin to move again. “I think we’ll save car sex for another time.”

You huff out a laugh in agreement. “It went pretty well that one time. But we were in a parking lot on the way to get pizza in rural New Jersey, not on an interstate in New York.” 

“Who would’ve thought there’s a big difference,” Agatha quips and the tension from almost getting into a wreck lifts the more she drives. You’re back to giggling and talking in no time, although you both keep your hands to yourself. 

The rest of the day passes quickly, with Agatha busy setting up everything she needs for her new apartment while you finish up some homework for the upcoming week. 

On Tuesday, you’re leaving your dorm after your third class of the day to go to Agatha’s for the night when you run into Carol. She brightens when you see her and you give her a quick smile, determined to keep moving. 

“Hey, where are you off to? You still owe me that dinner,” she says, catching you by the arm. 

“Yeah, sorry, this week is going to be a little tough,” you tell her apologetically. “My…girlfriend is moving on Saturday so I'm just trying to spend as much time with her as I can.” You’ve never really had to define your relationship with Agatha, but it seems natural to call her that. 

A stormy look flits across her face before she’s back to normal. “The same girlfriend who broke up with you?” 

You hadn’t exactly found the time to fill her in on the whole story. “Turns out she wasn’t cheating, it was me jumping to conclusions. She had a job interview in Albany and she got it! So she starts next Monday.” 

“Be careful with long distance,” Carol warns, instead of being happy for you like you thought she would be. You raise an eyebrow. “It always starts out so nice and happy and everything is okay…but then the distance sets in. Texting and calling aren’t the same as just being able to see them and talk to them in person. Traveling becomes exhausting. The traffic makes you mad and then you’re in a bad mood and you can only think about the drive back and—”

“Stop,” you snap, stepping away from her. This is possibly the worst thing you could hear right now and you can’t take it any longer. “That’s not how this is going to go, okay? Agatha and I are different. We’re solid. And besides, it’s probably only going to be like this for a few months. She trusts me and I trust her. We’re going to be fine.” 

Carol scoffs, a cold look in her eyes. “You trust her? Is that why you were so quick to believe she was cheating on you?” 

The blow knocks the wind out of you and you just stare at her blankly. Who the fuck does she think she is? 

She softens, realizing that she cut deeper than she intended to. “Shit, I’m sorry. This is your relationship and I should’ve stayed out of it — I’m sure you’re right, okay? You guys will be fine.” 

But you don’t want to hear anymore from her, so you turn on your heel and walk to your car. The rest of the night, you’re a bit out of it and you can’t stop cursing Carol for putting those thoughts in your head. 

The next few days fly by in a blur with classes and homework and avoiding Carol around campus, but your evenings are absolutely perfect with Agatha.

She keeps the light low in the kitchen while she cooks for you each night while you sit at the table and ramble on about whatever you’re learning. She hums at all the right times, but when you take a break to look up at her, she’s staring at you with a fondness in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

Each time it happens, you think it must be what love looks like. 

Growing up with parents that should’ve been divorced, you never had a good model for what love was. You used to think that everyone’s parents were like yours — cold, didn’t actually like each other, and just stayed together for their children. You thought that love meant complacency, or even that maybe there was no such thing as it. 

You weren’t sure if you’d actually be able to fall in love and be loved back. But with Agatha, there’s an intimacy your parents never had. You didn’t know what that was like until her. 

And you know that you love her more than anything in the entire world, and when she gives you that look, you think she might feel the same. 

The three words are constantly on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason, you just can’t say them again. You don’t even say it when she makes you cum, which is a lot of times over the week. 

She bends you over the countertop and fingers you. She shoves you against the wall after you get back from your picnic on Thursday, gets on her knees, and eats you out. She makes you sit on her strap while you finish your essay and then pushes you onto all-fours and pounds into your pussy until you’re crying. She fucks you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, in the hallway, in the living room — even in her car and your car. Both while you’re safely parked in an abandoned lot, of course. 

It’s like she’s determined to give you as many orgasms as she can before she moves, and she’s doing an excellent job of it. 

Saturday, after everything gets moved into the new apartment and you’re finally done unpacking most of the stuff, Agatha takes you to a fancy Italian steakhouse in Albany. The atmosphere is romantic, with classical music playing softly and candles lit at every table. Agatha looks absolutely stunning in a tight black dress and curly hair, and you’re wearing your best outfit as well. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” she asks and your cheeks heat up as your head ducks down shyly. 

“Once or twice,” you answer coyly, finally meeting her gaze again. 

She holds out her hand across the table and you take it, feeling the normal electricity that her skin on yours always gives you. “We’re going to be okay, you know that, right? I know you’re more worried than you’re letting on. I know how you’re feeling — I know how easy it is to get swept away with doubts. But I really appreciate you telling me to take this job and I promise we’ll be okay. I care about you far too much to let anything happen to this.” 

You nod and squeeze her hand. “I do know. I feel the same.” 

“Oh — that reminds me. I got you something,” she says and digs around in her purse before pulling out a small black box with a red bow neatly wrapped around it and handing it to you. “You might want to open it beneath the table. Might be embarrassing if someone sees it.” 

Brows furrowing in confusion, you dip the box under the white tablecloth and undo the bow quickly before lifting off the lid. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shoot up to meet hers. 

“Agatha,” you hiss, flushing. 

Resting on stretched out cotton in the box is a small, purple vibrator, curved to be able to rest on your clit while also vibrating against your g-spot, with a gold engraving along the side that goes inside you: Mommy’s cunt. Your clit throbs.

She holds up what looks like a small key fob and presses a button and the toy starts vibrating. You drop the box into your lap while gaping at her and she smirks triumphantly. “Works from anywhere in the world,” she says casually and your stomach sears with heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” you rasp. You’re suddenly feeling very excited about this move. Something about the distance, about the anticipation and the teasing and the pining that it will bring, doesn’t seem so bad anymore. 

Suddenly, the food can’t come fast enough and then you’re both in the car, Agatha speeding while you sit on your hands so you don’t distract her, and then she throws the car into park and you both race into her apartment. 

Her mouth finds yours the moment you step through the door, pushing you against the wall as a muffled oomph slips out of you, and she sucks on your tongue and then bites your bottom lip and then kisses her way down your neck. Your brain is going foggy and your underwear is soaked and you quickly tug her into the bedroom. 

Agatha tears off her dress and then pounces on you, knocking you onto your back on the bed, hands coming up to cup your breasts and you keen. 

“God, Agatha,” you groan and she scrapes her teeth against your neck. It’s so good, but it’s also your last night before everything changes. “Wait, fuck, stop.” 

She jumps back like she’s been burned. “What — is everything okay?” 

You nod, panting, and run your hands up and down her hips. “Yeah, everything’s great. I just…can we just cuddle tonight? I just want to be close to you.” 

Agatha runs her tongue along the inside of her bottom lip, her eyes going glassy for a moment before she blinks, and she chokes out, “Of course, honey. Whatever you want.” 

Smiling gratefully, you take off your clothes and slide under the covers next to her so you can feel all of her warm skin against yours before she tucks an arm around you. You nuzzle into her body and your face twitches with restrained emotion. 

“I’m going to miss you,” you say softly and she presses a kiss to your head. “I know it’ll be okay though. I’m almost done with my application to the University at Albany.” 

She hums and kisses you again before breathing in your scent deeply like she’s making sure she doesn’t forget it. “I have no doubt you’ll get in. And then it’ll be us in our own little world.” 

“That’s right.” 

The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, and eventually, Agatha’s breathing starts to even out. A quick glance up at her face confirms that she fell asleep. 

You know you should too, but you’re reluctant to let this moment go. Right now, it feels like you’re frozen in time, just the two of you. 

So you stay up as late as you can, just soaking in the feeling of her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg @m1vfs

[alotofpockets]

Tiny Tillie | Katrina Gorry x Reader

5k celebration prompt: “Our girl’s first football practice.”

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.2k

-----

Harper grew up in a world filled with football. With both of her mom’s playing professionally, there hadn’t been a day in her life where a ball wasn’t involved. She had joined you and Katrina on camps since she was a little baby, and it hadn’t taken long before every single one of your teammates had become her aunties. 

While she had already kicked balls around in the biggest stadiums, in front of thousands and thousands of people, she had always been too young to sign up for your local football club.

You and Katrina had always said you wouldn’t force her to be into football like the both of you, your children would be free to love whatever they wanted. But Harper loved football with her whole heart. She wanted to be just like her mom’s.

After asking again and again if she could play, you were finally able to enroll her. She would have her first practice with the club today, and she had not stopped talking about it all week. Her enthusiasm was the most adorable thing.

The morning of Harper’s first practice was pure chaos, but in the best way. It started by her hopping into your bed and jumping around. “Get up! Get up! Get up!” She chanted full of excitement. 

You swooped her out of the air mid jump, and held her down onto the bed in a cuddle. “Darling, practice isn’t for another couple of hours.” You tried, hoping she would let you and Katrina stay in bed just a little longer. “But mama, I gotta get ready.”

“Hmmm, I think that you have plenty of time, and maybe the tickle monster should have a visit first.” Katrina chimed in, lifting her hands tauntingly above your daughter. “Noooo.” Harper said as she was trying to get up to escape the incoming tickle attack, but Katrina’s fingers were tickling her tummy and sides before she was able to run off. 

Your bedroom filled with her giggles, a sound you would never be able to get enough of. “Mama!” She cried out with laughter. “Help me!” You wrapped your arms around her protectively and softly swatted your wife’s hands away.

“Alright Harps, why don’t you put on your training kit. Mommy put it on your chair last night. Then I will be right there, alright?” Harper’s eyes lit up at your words. She jumped off of the bed and sprinted to her room. “Save some of that energy for practice.” Katrina said after her jokingly.

Then she turned to you, “Can you believe it’s our girl’s first football practice?” You shook your head and pulled your wife closer. “I still remember the first time we took her to camp with us like it was yesterday. I can’t wait to see the joy on our little girl’s face when she’s out there.”

“Mama, help!” You heard Harper from the other side of the hallway. You kiss your wife’s head. “Duty calls.”

When you walk into Harper’s room you see her struggling to get her shirt on. It was all twisted around her small frame, one arm through the head hole and the other in the wrong arm hole. “Hm I think this is fixable. Arms up.” You said and helped her pull the fabric off. 

“Here, let me hold it up for you, and then you can try again.” She carefully watched what you did, eager to learn how to do it herself. She had been in a phase lately where she wanted to do everything herself, so you let her and knew she’d come to you if she needed help anyways.

“There we go, well done darling.” You praised her when she managed to get the shirt on properly the second time around. She proudly showed off her outfit, that’s when your eyes fell on the West Ham short she was wearing. “Darling, why are you wearing your West Ham kit? You got shorts from your club.”

“Because they’re my favourite Mama.” You were about to tell her to switch them out, but Katrina stepped up behind you and wrapped her hands around your waist. “Pick your battles, love. They’re just shorts.” 

Katrina was right, as long as it was training, she should be fine in her West Ham shorts. “Alright, West Ham shorts it is.” Harper jumped around excitedly. “Yay, let’s go Hammers!” You both chuckled. 

“I’m going to start on breakfast, see you downstairs.” Katrina whispered to you. Leaving you to continue helping Harper get ready. 

When she was all dressed, and you finished braiding her hair, the two of you headed downstairs. Instead of walking to the dining table however, Harper went straight for the kit bag that Katrina had gotten ready last night.

“Where do you think you’re going, Harps?” Katrina called out to her. “We have to go to practice, Mommy.” She shook her head with a chuckle. “Come have some breakfast first, we still have time. Footballers need to have a good breakfast, so they can be strong on the pitch. You want to be strong, right?”

“I am strong, Mommy.” She said showing off her muscles. “Well, I think some pancakes would make you even stronger than that.” At the word ‘pancake’ she dropped her bag and sprinted to the dining table. “That’s my girl.” She said proudly before placing a stack of pancakes in front of her.

Once breakfast was ready, there was no stopping the little baller from wanting to go to practice. Heading over early actually worked out for the surprise you had planned. 

When you got to the parking lot, Harper was hastily trying to undo her seatbelt, wanting to get out of the car as fast as possible. You opened her door and walked her to the little sidewalk in front of the car before, while Katrina got the bag from the trunk. 

Harper was too busy looking towards the pitch to notice two people walking towards her. “Look who’s here.” You nudged her in the right direction. “Kywa! ChaCha!” She yelled out full of excitement as she ran their way. Jumping into Kyra’s arms as the midfielder lifted her up and spun her around.

“Are you ready for your first practice?” Charli asked Harped as she kissed her cheek. “Yes, I’m gonna be just like all of you!”

“Our Tiny Tillie.” Kyra said to her, “I can’t wait to see you out there.”

Then Harper looked over Kyra’s shoulder and saw even more familiar faces. “Put me down! Put me down!” She said, wiggling her legs. The moment her feet touched the ground she ran off to greet Steph and Caitlin. It was safe to say that the surprise of some of her aunties coming down for her first practice was a success. 

Together with some of you Aussie girls, you watched your daughter play full of pride. She looked to be having the time of her life, a big smile plastered on her face as she was running around on the pitch with the rest of the kids. No matter how far she wanted to take football, you would be there to support her through it all.

-----

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[revelboo]

Could we maybe get some more IDW Ratchet please? 🥺🙏

Sure!

Feel Like Rain Pt 5

IDW Ratchet x Reader

• “Height okay?” He asks, hands out but not touching you, just hovering close by. Ready to catch you if you fall as his spark constricts watching you lean your weight on the makeshift crutch Wheeljack had fashioned for you at his request. Take a wobbly step. With your other arm also hurt, you can only use one for now and you offer him a tired smile before your jaw grits and you manage another slow, awkward step.

• You’ve barely hobbled three steps and you’re already shaking, sweat beading on your skin as your body screams at you to stop. The leg won’t take your weight at all, yet. Probably needs a cast. “Yeah. It’s good.” And there’s your stomach, pain sliding into the threat to throw up if you don’t take it easy. “Think I overdid it.” And those gentle hands cup you, easing you carefully down among the nest of blankets he’s made you. “Thanks.”

• “There’s no need to push yourself,” he mutters gruffly as you just slump backwards in your nest and taking a deep, shuddering breath. Understands, though. If it was him, he’d be trying to get up and about. There’s always so much to do and he doesn’t have the time to take care of himself and everyone else. Watches your breathing even out as you swallow convulsively, eyes shut. Venting, he reaches to flip your hair away from your face and you catch his servo with your good hand.

• “I’m a terrible patient, huh?” Amused as he just freezes at your touch, you guess you’d be a little freaked out about a teeny, little injured person under your care, too. Someone small enough you could pick them up in one hand. “I know you have other stuff to do besides worry over me,” you add, letting your hand slide off of his servo. You’ve been watching him, the way he’s always in motion like he can’t stop. And the times he does, his servos faintly tremble. He’s told you little bits and pieces. That his people are at war. That they crash landed here and are in hiding now. And that they need to remain secret.

• Rumbling softly, he wets a cloth and pinches it between his servos, dabbing at your forehead as you look up at him. “It’s quiet right now,” he growls. “As long as Wheeljack doesn’t blow himself up, I don’t have anything more pressing to tend to.” And it’s guilt making him dote on you, because he should have entrusted your care to your own kind, but he’d found you. Pulled you broken and bleeding from the wreck and if he took you in, he’d never have known if you’d survived. Your life would have been out of his hands and maybe, the human medics would have fought for you. Saved you and took care of you, but you’d needed him and he hadn’t been able to just give you to someone else and hope for the best.

Previous

[malewifeharem]

ok but imagine sylus with a tongue piercing... why havent i seen any posts on this mdni nsfw. not proofread. fem mc

your breath hitches as you feel the cold metal of his piercing come into contact with your inner thigh. your legs are gently but firmly kept in place over his shoulders. "fuck... sy, quit teasing already..." your body feels like its been set on fire. you can feel your juices pooling between your legs and dripping onto the sheets below but you couldn't care less right now. all you can think of is the heavenly sight before you - the way you have the most wanted man in linkon - the leader of onychinus, looking absolutely debauched and feral all for a taste of you. "patience, kitten." his voice is deep and commands your obedience, and you find yourself holding back from pushing his head down nose-deep into your cunt already. he lets out an amused chuckle at the way your hips jerk up - desperate and mindless, your body betraying your mind. this is torturous, even for him - but good god, seeing you all pliant and squirmy had to be the hottest thing he's ever seen. one of his hands lets go of your thigh to slowly trail up your torso before finally giving your breast a squeeze. at the same time, sylus's head dips down to give your clit a lick, relishing in the way you immediately make your relief well-known with a loud moan. "f-fuck... oh- sylus!" your hand grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs it towards your pussy - unable to hold back the hunger for more pleasure. more of him. ever eager to please, he doesn't deny it to you. he plunges straight in - lapping up your juices as if his sole purpose in life was to satisfy you. (it is) if you weren't lost in ecstasy right now, you'd be able to see the small smirk on his face - so smug at the way he has you unraveling all for him. the contrast between the feeling of his smooth, chilling ball piercing and warm, wet tongue sends you reeling. his sharp and thick nose kisses your poor swollen clit perfectly, rubbing it just the way you needed every time you grinded against his face. "i can feel you tightening around my tongue, sweetie... does my piercing feel good, hm?" sylus says in between bated breaths - unintentionally blowing hot air onto your sloppy messy cunt. "f-fuck, sylus...! ohmygod-"

you feel an all-too familiar knot in your stomach creeping up rapidly, ready to burst at any moment.

through your teary vision and hazy mind, you notice your boyfriend's own fucked-out look - with your slick coating his entire mouth, dripping down his chin - as if he could care about that when he had a feast splayed out right in front of him. "gonna hah- c-cum... sy! 's too much- ngh- i...!" when your legs start to shake and you subconsciously move away from his tongue, you feel the constricting strings of his evol pull you back down - not letting you escape. "where do you think you're going, kitten? ngh- don't run away now..."

your eyes squeeze shut and your jaw hangs wide as you feel your orgasm crashing over - so hard and violent - you think you might not make it out alive. spurts of syrupy cum gushes out of your pussy and sylus is there to lick it all up - letting you ride out the waves of pleasure.

only when you push his head away does he stop, letting you catch your breath. when you finally come to, you notice the wet splotch on the crotch of his pants - did he really...?

"sweetie... if you keep staring, i won't be able to control myself anymore. can you bare the consequences?"

"haah... yes," you almost whine - your own hunger to please him not satisfied.

the clinking of his belt followed by the sound of his belt unzippping has you anticipating for what comes next even more - sending tingles of excitement straight to your greedy cunt.

"let me know when you're too tired to go on, pretty girl." he coos gently despite his filthy words.

"because we still have a long way to go before my hunger for you is satiated."

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ “THE LOVE ART CREATES”

୨ৎ pairing: boyfriend!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! sweet! cute! and everything you need

୨ৎ summary: you’re an artist who has always loved art and how it makes the soul feel. seunghyun? the same way of course but you’re much more on the.. well, shyer side and it gets in the way of things when he’s always asking to see the art you’ve created. number one rule? never be shy around the art genius himself.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello hello!! so excited to take this request since it’s so adorable and sweet! thank you for requesting it and I hope you can enjoy it!! x

— ᧔•᧓ being able to sit in a room for hours upon hours wasn’t for everyone but you? it was most definitely for you. the art that you created whether it was a simple painting or drawing was so special to you and it’s been that way since you were a very small girl. having a gift is something a lot of people wish for and your gift was creating such beautiful art pieces to share with the world but.. in your case it wasn’t that at all. sharing your art wasn’t something you were familiar with. being an extremely shy girl wasn’t always ideal but it always happened that way for you and you didn’t push it.

— ᧔•᧓ seunghyun was the most supportive boyfriend you could ever ask for. he was gentle, sweet, kind, and never pushed you to show him the art you’ve created even if he so badly wanted to see it. he wanted you to be ready but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to steal a few glances here and there at what you’re doing. to him he thinks of it as cute and can’t get over it.

— ᧔•᧓ “can I just see a little bit of it? you don’t have to show me anything you’ve finished but maybe a little something that you’re working on?” he would ask while you stood there biting your lip trying to decide if you wanted to show him something not finished or not. it made you feel bad especially when he was so sweet about it all so when you slowly nodded your head he felt like he was on the moon! (literally!) his eyes grew big and he did everything he could to not embarrass himself from being so overly excited. too excited.

— ᧔•᧓ showing him the first piece you finished a few weeks ago was a bit difficult for you because of the low self esteem you felt while finishing it. was it your best? not at all but seunghyun thought the opposite. his long fingers sliding down the painting in a slow manner allowing himself to enjoy the art you created.

— ᧔•᧓ “this is breathtaking.. why didn’t you show me this sooner? I know you’re shy and all baby but, look at this! it’s beautiful. the colors you’ve chosen go so well together.” seunghyun wouldn’t be able to put the painting down. he woukd continuously praise it and make sure you know that it was such a good piece.

— ᧔•᧓ he would finally put it down to pull you into a tight hug wanting you to feel the warmth and love from him that you adored so much. “please continue showing me your art, hm? you do so well. I can’t believe you won’t try to sell it! I just know that you could become a little star.” his words always helped you through the darkest thoughts and feelings. “you’re my little star how’s that sound? my sweet little star.”

— ᧔•᧓ from then on you continued showing him the pieces you created but the shyness didn’t disappear unfortunately. each time it would take a bit of time to show him but he would wait patiently like the amazing boyfriend that he was. deep down seunghyun loved it when you got so shy to show him the piece. he would reach his hand up to grab the back of your head and pull you into his chest so you could hide from him.

— ᧔•᧓ “you keep acting this way and I’ll have to attack you with so many kisses. I know you’ll like that but I won’t be able to stop myself.” you’d giggle in his chest while he continued looking at the piece praising it and taking pictures of it so he could show anyone that asked about you and what you did for fun/a living.

[k0ff1n]

Were there always 𝘵𝘸𝘰 beasts of deceit?

☆.A list of general headcanons about an au where the witches decided to divide the knowledge in two. Can also be read as: i hate that everyone thinks that Shadow Milk basically kidnaps people instead of being able to love someone and actually be understood :D

☆. This was originally meant to be an au with my oc but I tried to keep the personality for the reader as neautral as possible, no gender or anything specified because if I see that I'm supposed to have long blonde hair one more time I'm gonna kms. 　　

☆. Isn't really nsfw but there is a "suggestive" part, like they don't fuck but it's implicit so before someone comes for my head I WARNED YOU. Anyway I hope you enjoy it :}.

☆. Also english isn't my first language so I'm genuinely sorry if there are any mistakes :/.

-First of all I prefer to think that you didn't meet Shadow Milk after he became the beast of deceit. To have someone understand him in such a deep way it's only possible if you were there since the origin of everything, even his. It's not impossible to imagine how heavy all the knowledge is to bear so it would make sense if the witches decided to divide it in 𝘵𝘸𝘰, no?

-Not everyone knows that it wasn't one being that held all the knowledge in their head but two similar cookies, always together since the start and unable to physically stay away from each other for a long amount of time. It wasn't far fetched to say that after the creation of the academy people considered you to be his shadow and him yours. There wasn't one moment where you two could be found more than ten meters apart and the reason was kind of obvious, even if not to many people. You were each other's half without wanting it to be, if knowledge started with him the only possible outcome was for it to finish with you.

-As much as the weight of knowing literally 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 held the both of you from forming meaningful relationships with other cookies (ignoring the beasts obviously) it didn't mean that you became hermits and went away from society, especially since your role was to spread information and teach others. It was after years and years of having to face thousands of different cookies everyday and try to help them with the infinity of informations you had that it became more of a burden to you.

-If years ago others seemed happy to know every kind of possible thing in Crispia, now it felt as if you were being rude by telling them those truths. Needless to say that having someone able to understand perfectly helped the both of you overcome those moments and push forward. And even if things made you tired it was always okay because you knew that he would have always been there to comfort you and vice versa.

-But the situation changed. It changed that one faithful day when the witches you held so dear to your hearts told you that it wasn't enough, that even if all the cookies preferred 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘵 you couldn't agree with them and ignore it because only they could and not 𝘺𝘰𝘶, not the perfect duo they created to spread 𝘵𝘩𝘦 word. From that point on it only went downhill, the two of you agreed that it wasn't 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳, it wasn't 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 that only you had to suffer because of those rules and standards while the others could live happily and in ignorance.

-It took some time for the other beasts to start noticing how unfair life was to them too and one by one they fell, the only ones you could think of as friends being held back by forks and chains while you had to pretend that your life was happy. After that everything changed, the knowledge and truth you were supposed to spread became the base for misinformation and lies, those very things the other cookies liked some much became your routine until at some point the witches stopped you, they did what you saw years before being done to your closest friends only now you were being both sealed away in some damn tree for what you thought would have been the rest of eternity.

-Shadow Milk and you weren't the fountain of knowledge anymore, to them at least, but all those things didn't vanish from your minds, all the informations, lies and painful memories were still in your heads like a sea during a storm, unable to stop and become peaceful like it once was. Conversations with the other beasts became rare over time, their rage towards the witches making them unable to care about a conversation with you. It was at that point in your lives that you really understood how important you were to each other, obviously you knew it already but now that it was nothing but you two it became palpable how your souls were interviewed and literally unable to be pulled apart. If the witches thought it a good idea to create two of you it was probably their biggest regret now.

———————

-It was after 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 that the damn tree opened and you realized that you didn't have your full power anymore. As if being imprisoned for a millenia wasn't enough they had to strip you of your soul jam and give it to some 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘥, like he had the right to use it while you two were left to your own demise. Anger, resentment and sadness were the only feelings that your hearts could feel for far too much time and after 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 who it was that stole your power they only heightened, now unable to really understand how was it 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 that everything that made you two who you were in the past was now held away from you while your mere existence was considered a crime.

-The only luck on your side was the one that made you have enough power to escape the situation and find refuge in what was years before known as the spire of knowledge, now a place full of dust and old memories that could once again be considered your home. It's probably thanks to that too that you were, even if only a little, able to partially calm down and concentrate on the situation at hand and how to face those 𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 and regain your power back.

———————

-As for the relationship I'd say that the start was probably the hardest part, but only like the first few days because after those it felt as if you were literally made for each other (lol you were). The type of relationship and friendship where you two are able to talk about everything, and in your case literally 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, from how the universe was made to why some rats look better when they become taxidermy than when they were alive.

-Your life was a constant presence in his and the same was for you, it should feel bad to always be around someone but with him it was as if everything around you was still and the only moving things were the two of you. Needless to say that in the years at the academy you couldn't really show affection to each other because of the list of students always surrounding you two to ask things regarding previous lessons, and even if you two lived together the time was mostly spent working to improve lives and not to really live yours.

-All this started to change when you opted for the lies and deceit road, now able to talk to each other for more than ten minutes at a time and to maybe sleep at least six hours. This obviously meant that your lives were spent differently, you didn't have to care about others too much so it came natural to care about each other even more than before. Now it wasn't a problem if you two were found kissing each other before a lesson and if someone dared to say something bad about it they would 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 have no one to talk to the next day. Totally not because one some rumor that started spreading about them, oh no no, you misunderstand really it was only his fault that made the situatuon escalate like that and so quickly.

-Needless to say that over time people noticed a pattern and opted for staying away from you, not that you minded obviously, it only meant that you two would have finally been able to start living like a normal couple and not like the embodiments of all knowledge. By this I mean that general affection became routine, cooking together every morning was now the norm and things like spending time reading on the couch or watching a movie could finally be considered normal days and not like some kind of taboo.

-The almost non existent 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 moments that for a long time were almost nothing more than an escape from the harsh reality out there were now finally moments of pleasure between two lovers. The attraction you felt for each other now had the time to be expressed and the shame you almost felt in the past seemed to never have existed in the first place.

-Obviously all of this came to an halt when the tree took all you beasts in 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 and it's kind of obviously to say that when it spat you out the first thing you did when arriving at the spire wasn't dusting the shelves and sweeping the floors.

-Now your life could begin again, even if the anger you both felt towards Pure Vanilla was the prime subject of your discussions that doesn't mean that your life as a couple magically ended. It was after some time that other cookies decided to work for you, the first one was obviously Black Sapphire and after some time Candy Apple joined too. As much as it seemed strange at first to have other people living with you, even if not in the same section of the spire, they grew on you both after some time, not that they could be considered your kids but when you started helping the younger one with choosing the hairstyles she preferred for the day and which dress fit her better it did start to feel as if you were some kind of family. As dysfunctional as it could be obviously, but a family nonetheless.

-After the years spent in the tree the clingy side of him started shining through, not that you minded but it sure was way different than the past. It wasn't as if your personal space stopped to exist since you both were always together but a thousand years ago he probably would have never opted for walking with a hand around your waist or literally making out in public, be it in front of servants or cookies like Gingerbrave and his friends. Speaking of that: the expressions on their faces when they first entered the Spire and saw that Shadow Milk wasn't alone but with someone literally sitting on his lap was priceless. What followed was them shouting at him to free you of whatever kind of brainwashing technique he used, only to have you kissing him and showing them your wedding band as an answer. After that they looked more confused than before but it surely wasn't your problem.

-It took some time for you to get used to his way of talking with the others, you too obviously changed and had to craft a mask to show the others and protect your real self but the difference between when he talked with you and when he interacted with other cookies always managed to leave you speechless. After years it became routine and even kind of funny to listen to him talk in such an exaggerated way, only to ask him something and listen to him change his voice completely to the one you always knew.

-Well needless to say that people can believe that the perfect couple doesn't exist but we all know that the world is indeed full of lies, is it not?

[zeropro]

can i kindly ask for a summary of how time is measured in your au? mostly the cycle/year stuff, im not sure if it's lifted from elsewhere or your own creation — either way i think it's really cool :) world building is awesome

very sorry if you've already gone over this elsewhere

Oh sure! I spent way too long figuring this out so i might as well explain it.

The cybertronian calendar goes in one direction forever unless a new Prime decides to reset it. Nova Prime reset the calendar when he declared the new Golden Age of Expansion, which is why Megatron’s canon Birthday is so small (1st cycle 012) as he was among the first Cold Constructed mechs onlined, and that started with Nova.

The only unit of measurement that we seem to have solidified is Vorns, which is 83 earth years (earth years=stellar cycle). The calendar’s cycles are measured by vorn, the first number counts vorn, and every 24 vorn the second number ticks up. after 24th cycle 12 it would become 1st cycle 013 and then 2nd cycle 013.

There…actually is no unit of time for the second measurement as far as I can tell, so I have no idea what to call it, but essentially you would say Megatron’s birthday as first cycle O’twelve, and people would know he was born 23904-ish years after Nova Prime’s calendar went in effect.

24 vorns is roughly 2000 years and every 500 dates on the calendar is roughly one million years.

I developed this calendar system based on the actual dates we do have in IDW1, I decided 24 vorns are when the calendar turns over because the war starts about a million years after Megatron’s birth and the canon dates for most of those events are in the 500s. I did have to ignore the single canon date set in the 51st cycle for this, but all the other dates are within the 1 to 14 range. And this is taking into consideration that the calendar probably reset some time under Zeta Prime (which is why the Battle of Sherma Bridge where Megatron and the newly anointed Optimus Prime allegedly duked it out for the first time happens in 2nd Cycle 087 even tho Megatron was beat up by Whirl in jail before the war in 4th Cycle 496). Some of the inconsistencies I also chalk up to some bots still using the old calendar. the only date I really cant figure out is 6th Cycle 356 being confirmed to be “half a million years ago” like?? Eh?? Ultra Magnus’ last fatality was pre earth pretty sure and that happened in the 3800’s (of nova’s calendar pretty sure). Maybe they missed a zero at the end of the date or something idk XD 3560 would make so much more sense for half a million years ago.

Also, 83 years is a long time and it does seem like they have smaller units of dating called chords and arcs but I just assume thats like days and months to us and I cant be bothered to figure it out. not enough info about it anyway. I’m sure one of those tracks stellar cycles and the other tracks cybertronian days.

i think the only other unit of time I've used is deca-cycles, just cuz I like how it sounds. a deca-cycle is about a month, or three weeks.

Megatron and Skywarp were constructed earlier on (012 and 023 respectivly), Thundercracker was constructed closer to when the matrix “ran dry” probably in the 100s, and Starscream was commissioned by Cryak at the end of the millenia, in the late 400s, after they’d stopped constructing seekers entirely. He must not have been more than a few vorns old when he met Thundercracker.

Starscream and Skyfire’s expedition would have taken them 40 on the calendar to get to earth, based on Skyfire’s shuttle speed. Starscream probably would have been able to make it back to cybertron a little bit faster.

I referenced this and this page of the wiki while working on this. Most of my worldbuilding is extrapolation from canon.

yes i did all this for one joke.

A few more timeline stuff: Megatron is about .7 million years older than Starscream, and Starscream is about half a million years older than the start of the war. The war lasted 3 million years before they crash landed on earth after which they went into stasis for one million years. Some time after they landed on earth, Shockwave successfully clones Sunstorm.

and in case you were wondering, sunny's serial code is referencing his Collector's Edition toy's ID number (089). SC stands for Seeker Class. they run out of glyphs slots after 999 so they sort them into batches. Sunny is the 089th frame built in batch 16. whether that means his frame was already built and left empty in storage somewhere and then repurposed by Shockwave, or Shockwave built him from scratch based on the blueprints and just continued the serial code sequence, I haven't decided. but either way, it means there was a finite number of seekers brought into the world and they dont even make up a whole united states city's worth of people. Lots of them are dead by now anyway. The whole cybertronian race is so small now they are all on first name bases with each other XD. But i digress, none of that has to do with time or calendar stuff, just thought it was fun.

thanks for asking!!

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART NINETEEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: you come back with an anxious ridden feeling that becomes worse as time goes by—all because of the stone faced girl.

wc. 3.1k

warnings: very angsty | authors note: sooo the weather….

(nowhere girl masterlist)

(Three months later…)

Mi-Cha was getting more anxious by the minute.

When she went to visit you in your dorm, you weren’t there. In fact, when she asked your roommate about your whereabouts she too hasn’t seen you all day. So, she’s standing outside your dorm with her hands on her hips to ponder. Where could you be? Who will know? A light bulb flickers in her mind when she thinks of the only person in campus who knows everyone in her major.

She sprints to the floor above and knocks on the door of one of the most luxurious dorms in campus. Yoon appears minutes after, her eyes glued to her phone screen which aggravates Mi-Cha.

“Yoon. Earth to, Yoon.” she says snapping her fingers in front of Yoon’s face. She blinks and smiles wearily at Mi-Cha.

“Oh, hey, long time no see. How was your summer?” Yoon asks, batting her eyelashes.

“No need for small talk just tell me where she is.” Mi-Cha huffs impatiently.

Yoon’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “She?”

“Seriously?” Mi-Cha crosses her arms and sighs. “Who’s the only other person that we are connected to?”

After pausing to think, revelation overcomes Yoon’s pristine face. “Ah! Yes—I think she’s at our communal studio. I haven’t seen her around the dorms—“

“But you are our new resident assistant?”

“Exactly! I’m so busy trying to keep everything and everyone in check how am I supposed to know where everyone is at every waking moment?”

Mi-Cha scoffs, even though deep down she knows Yoon is slightly correct. And with that she walks away and out of the dormitory building. There is only one communal studio space for art students to attend whenever they like. She is surprised you’d be there though—it’s not even the first day of classes yet. And in all honesty, she’s a little offended that that’s the first place you go to.

She hasn’t seen you since you left for your Italy trip and you were barely able to reach out to her during your summer there. But from the small tidbits you shared, it sounded like you had a riveting summer in Milan.

After opening the doors to the large and spacious studio, there were mounds of students present with piles of canvases and sculptures ready to be displayed or worked on. She pushes past the students with the goal of finding you in mind.

It feels like Mi-Cha was back at the art gallery with how crowded this studio is. Finally, she thinks she found you and she let out a huge breath of relief.

You were currently helping lift up a large canvas with the help of four other art students and leaned the piece against the wall. Your hair was all over the place and the baggy jean shorts you were wearing got unknowingly stained when you wipe your hands against them.

Whilst catching your breath you wipe the sweat off your forehead, still not noticing your friend running to your direction.

“I missed you so so so much!” Mi-Cha merrily says after trapping you into one of her bear hugs.

“Hey! I missed you too.” you say, grinning. However, there was less enthusiasm in your voice.

“Why haven’t you stopped by to see me? I’m hurt.” she pouts releasing you from the hug.

She eyes you from head to toe. Something was different about you she just couldn’t put her fingers on it. Although, your skin did glow with more radiance, that wasn’t it. And when she looks into your smiling eyes, there was a hint of nervousness surrounding them that was illegible. Maybe she was just overthinking it too much. It has been awhile since she’s seen you.

“I’m sorry. All of my work just flew in and I had to unpack them all otherwise they would have gone ‘mysteriously’ missing.” you say, using your fingers to sign quotation marks on the word mysteriously. “And I stayed longer to help some people who went with me on the trip.”

“And how was it?” she gapes. “Wait never mind don’t tell me—let’s go grab lunch after so you can tell me all about it.”

Your eyes squint. “I hear that the cafeteria food here is…not the best though.”

“Yeah—that’s why I told you to enjoy as much Italian food before coming back. You’ll have to start getting used to the campus food now.”

When you open your mouth to speak a colleague of yours nudges your sides to help them lift up a sculpture tightly secured in a large box. You signal Mi-Cha to momentarily wait for you to finish and she observes you with eyebrows quirking up. She thinks she’s pretty good at reading minds, you seem anxious. The entire time you spoke your eyebrows were knit and the corners of your lips twitching like the smile you had was by force.

You clap your hands together to wipe away dust and debris, your face crestfallen. “What?”

“Did you see her yet?” she blurts out, wriggling her eyebrows. She was louder than she expected.

That’s when you freeze and Mi-Cha catches on. It had to be that girl you were so fawned over this past spring. She saw it in the way your muscles grew tense. You play it off with a smaller smile.

“No, as soon as I got back I had to get everything in my dorm prepared and talk to my counselor about my new tuition.” you explain quietly. “I’m going to stop by later though.”

Now, Mi-Cha feels guilty. She’s so ignorant for thinking that your only problems were your love life when you have financial stressors to take care of.

“Yeah, I know it’s expensive but don’t worry. Focus on school and worry about debts when you get a stable job after.”

“Being an adult fucking sucks.” you grumble.

“Yeah, I know.” she says, clearing her throat in contemplation. “Are you alright though? With you know…life?”

You start chuckling nervously. “Yeah. I don’t know…Ever since I got to Italy I’ve just been stressed and I still feel weird even after coming back.”

“Did you say stress? What could possibly stress you out in Italy?”

Sae-byeok actually.

There is no words in the human dictionary to describe the amount of stress you’ve endured throughout your trip to Italy. All because of the stone face girl you’ve fallen head over heels for. You never felt such intense emotions about someone other than her, it got to a point where she was always luring in the back of your mind.

On the last week of your studies in Italy, you and a couple of your colleagues ventured out to Genoa to relax on a boat. And embarrassingly enough, your drunken thoughts couldn’t see anything but Sae-byeok. It was killing you and for one reason only.

She hasn’t reached out to you ever since you arrived to Italy.

At first you didn’t try to worry. You didn’t have much reception on your phone but whenever you got the chance you made sure to stay up late reach out to Sae-byeok when you knew it would be day time in South Korea. But nothing. Halfway through the trip, you try dialing Ji-yeong asking if everything is alright but nothing. And when you tried reaching out to them the second you got back to Korea, their calls went straight to voicemail.

They’ve gone off the grid and you couldn’t stop your mind from going in circles trying to figure out what’s going on with them.

But now that you’re back you are going to find out.

After you and Mi-Cha head to the cafeteria and catch up on each other’s lives the past three months, you decline her offer to go to a welcome party held at her dormitory wing. You felt guilty not telling her about what really happened with Sae-byeok, but you were so afraid to get her response because she is such a blunt person. What if she would’ve told you that Sae-byeok ghosted you and to move on from her? You are still in denial.

So, after lunch you walk back to your dormitory.

“Hey, what happened to you?” asks your roommate, Lee Gyeong-ja who was currently laying on her bed playing a mobile game. “Haven’t heard from you all day and one of your friends came to ask about you.”

“Busy unloading some stuff from my trip.” you explain flatly. “And I met up with her earlier.”

You kneel down in front of your bed to pull out two bags underneath it. In the bag contains all the stuff you gathered from the trip and each has the label ‘Ji-yeong’ and ‘Kang siblings’.

“Okay…” she trails off before focusing back on her game.

“Bye.” you say breathlessly and walk out the dorm with the bags on each hand.

To make it to their apartment faster, you took the subway rather than the bus even though you prefer taking the latter. The entire journey was stress inducing—you hope that they have a good explanation as to why they haven’t been contacting you.

When you arrive in front of the apartment complex, you took a deep breath in to soothe your mind. You hope they’re alright. You hope to see their faces soon. And you hope they’re thinking the same about you.

You place one of the bags on the floor to knock on their door. Again, you breathe in and out but your heart keeps thumping loudly in your ears. It just got louder when you hear rustling coming from the other end.

Your racing heart stops abruptly to sink down your chest.

“Hello?” greets a man who looks to be in his thirties. He slowly pokes his head out the door to survey you—appearing very suspicious about your presence here.

“Oh uh,” you stammer and look to the side of the door to make sure you got the right apartment number. This was it. You awkwardly smile at the man. “hi. Sorry—two girls around my age used to live here. Do you—Do you know where they possibly…moved to?”

“Two girls?” he questions. Right after, a woman who you assume to be his wife appears behind him. He mumbles something to her and she shakes her head in response. “We aren’t sure—we just moved here last month. But I think I remember the landlord telling us that the old tenants left sometime in the…beginning of summer?” he looks to his wife for reassurance and she shakes her head yes.

“Seriously? Oh my god…” you mutter, your voice trembling. Before they get any more suspicious of you, you bow quickly. “I’m sorry for taking your time. Thank you.”

And with that you grab the bag you had on the ground and make your way out of your apartment.

So, you weren’t just going crazy for no reason…If they weren’t here then where the hell are they? You don’t want to think of the worst just yet. There has to be a fine explanation for this.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

(One week later…)

The bakery is no longer there. Instead, there was a large ‘FOR SALE’ sign on the entire building which includes your old studio apartment. And the only other sign in front of the abandoned building was ‘RELOCATED TO SONJUN.’

You desperately wish that you could drop everything to go to Sonjun and hope Miss Ahn or her bratty grandson could give you answers. If they have any. But you couldn’t fall behind in school, not when it’s all you have.

As if you were in a trance, you kept swirling your line brush around the red acrylic paint. You didn’t notice you were doing this for the past three minutes—but you couldn’t stop thinking about Sae-byeok. It worries you what might’ve happened to her. When she told you she was able to stay a float, was the lying?

You didn’t break away from your trance until faint familiar giggles enter your ears. Blinking, you see Yoon enter the communal studio with her portfolio tote. She heads to the other end of the studio and you just go back to swirling your brush around. It wasn’t until a shadowy figure engulfs you that you peer back up.

“Yoon?”

“Hey!” she beams and bends down to give you a side hug. You awkwardly reciprocate it back by patting her shoulders and frown seeing her pull up a chair beside you. “How was Italy? Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, it was beautiful.” you reply coolly. “How was your summer?”

That’s when she lets out a biggest groan, disturbing some of the students around you. “Awful! First of all, I had to work at one of my parents cafe chains all the way at the end of town because they were short staffed. So, do you know what I had to do? Remove my acrylic nails! Then soon after, I stopped hearing less and less from Yen-ho and he’s seriously gone off the grid because I had to report him missing to the police! But of course they don’t care because of…you know. The criminal stuff. But anyway—yeah I haven’t heard from him since. It was seriously stressing me out that I couldn’t relax properly on my trip to Jeju all July. I hope that all the school work will keep my mind at bay…Seriously why should I be so worried over a prick like him? I’m sorry for ranting but no one besides you would understand.”

“No, it’s okay.” you say, your eyebrows knitting. “But when did you say he went missing?”

“I reported him in the beginning of July after not hearing from him for like over three weeks. Fucking asshole. I need to get over him quickly.”

“And he never mention where he was going or anything?”

She throws you a suspicious glare. “Are you seriously concerned about him?”

“No it’s just…” you say, sighing in frustration. “Don’t tell anyone but remember my friend who you saw at the art murals? Well, she’s moved out of her apartment sometime in June or July and I haven’t heard from her either. And she used to know him. Do you think…?”

“What? Was she a part of his gang or something?” she gasps. When you nod she starts rubbing your back soothingly. “Oh, honey…”

“I know it’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not. I mean…it’s very likely that they joined forces again though.”

“You think?” you raise a brow.

“Do you know how many times Yen-ho vowed to me that he would never go back to the gang? So many times.”

No, that can’t be it. Sae-byeok isn’t Yen-ho. She has too much to risk with Cheol under her care and too much of a caring heart to do that to him. It just seems unfathomable. But, how unlikely could that be? What if she couldn’t find a way to pay rent and asked Deok-su if she could join back in his gang…No. That can’t be it—she owed him a ton of money. That’s not possible—however, this piece of information about Yen-ho is very interesting.

“I’ll—I’ll figure it out. Thanks, Yoon.” you murmur after careful thinking.

She sends you an enthusiastic smile. “Aw, look at us bonding over our love for criminals!”

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

(One month later…)

You were starting to forget how they looked like. Whenever you think of Sae-byeok, the image of her in your mind is blurry and not all there. It’s funny, you thought you’d never forget a face like hers but you can’t even recall her most distinct features—her eyes. You remember them being sharp and cold, but you don’t have the clear picture of it in your head. Now, you regret leaving your sketchbook of all her drawings behind with her. It’s hard to believe it’s been five months.

Luckily, school has helped in some ways to keep your thoughts at bay. You drown yourself in your paintings and sculptures—learning new techniques thanks to your study abroad program you became more skilled in drawing portraits.

You sigh in defeat starting at the fully worked canvas before you. It was another failure. You didn’t get her eyes right again—this is the fifth portrait you have failed to perfect. If anyone knew how much time you were putting into drawing Sae-byeok they’d think you’ll need to be sent away. But you can’t forget her. You just can’t, but your mind is betraying you.

The alarm goes off in the back pocket of your jeans—altering you that you have things in your life you need to do outside of Sae-byeok. You click to turn it off and drape over the portrait with a long piece of fabric.

Texting Mi-Cha, you let her know you will be a few minutes late for dinner and to save you a spot. When she replies back with a thumbs up you put your phone back in your pocket and head over to the building where the financial support center is located.

Because you no longer have an internship and you don’t know when the next one will come, you did your best to sell your paints and sculptures you made back in Italy as a form of income. But it’s hard. After only selling three of your works, you only had enough money to pay a portion of your tuition—a small portion.

“Hi, I’d like to submit a deposit for my tuition.” you say to the worker sitting across the desk who was busy clicking away on the computer.

“Of course, I just need your ID, please.” she says robotically, still starting at the screen. You sigh and slide down your card to her. She grabs it, merely glances at it and starts typing away. After a minute of clicking and typing, her eyes slightly narrow. “Hm…”

“Hm?” you repeat. She throws you a look, making your cheeks go pink.

“It seems like your tuition is entirely paid off.”

Your jaw slackens by the miracle of this news. There your heart goes again, hammering like it was trying to burst out of your chest. “W—What? Are you sure you got the right person…?”

She purses her lips at you but turns to do more typing. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation when she looks at your ID and back at the screen. “Yes.” she answers flatly.

“Could—Could you tell me who paid it off? Because it wasn’t me.”

“The system says it’s been paid off by closed cash. Usually closed cash doesn’t provide a name in our system. I’m sorry but I can’t provide you the information you need. Perhaps it was your parents or legal guardian?”

You swallow back a scoff at her reply. However, that was the only plausible explanation. Was this your parent’s way of trying to make amends with you? But it doesn’t make sense—why now? Besides, your parents aren’t filthy rich it’s not possible for them to pay off your entire tuition in full. Ever since you left for Italy, your entire life began flipping upside down.

“Yeah…Thanks, ma’am.” you whisper, your eyes cloudy with thoughts that you forgot to bow. She grimaces when your back is turnt.

When you step out of the building, you just stand outside to ponder. The first day of October air strikes your burning cheeks, cooling them.

“What the fuck is going on?” you mutter to yourself.

You glance up at the sky and see the sun almost going to meet the horizon. If it’s not night yet, you could still get some answers. So, you pull out your phone and text Mi-Cha that you can’t make it because of a last minute homework you forgot to do. Then you check your phone map and to find the quickest route to your parent’s house.

In spite of the fact that you should feel terrified to meet your parents again, there is numbness instead. You have Sae-byeok to thank for that. At least this time you won’t storm off from your parents bawling your eyes out. Or, that’s what you like to tell yourself at least.

When your dad is the one to open the door, your chest pangs. The wrinkles on his forehead are more visible and his eyelids appear to sag more. He stares at you blankly for a moment before raising his eyebrows up in surprise when he realizes who is standing before him.

“H—Honey…you’re here?” he stammers breathlessly. He opens the door wider to instinctively to let you in, but you just glare at him and remain in your spot.

“Hi, dad.” you greet icily. It infuriates you the way he is looking at you like some wounded puppy when he let you go so easily—twice. They had two opportunities and now maybe three. “I just need to know, did you or mom pay off my tuition?”

“Your tuition?” he queries and pauses to think to himself. You can see the tints in his cheeks get more hue, he was embarrassed. “We—uh, we didn’t. Someone paid it off?”

“Yeah. I don’t know who. Anyways, thanks.” you say, your voice low and flat.

“Wait!” he says quickly. You stop yourself from turning around and look back at your dad, eyes squinting. “How are you? How’s school?”

“Great. I just came back from a trip to Italy. I got offered an internship to study there for the summer.” you say. It felt good to brag—especially with how floundered he looks.

“That’s…wonderful.” he stutters.

Disappointed. That’s how you feel. You aren’t sure what you expected him to say, but not that. You feel ashamed for still wanting your parents praise. When you exhale, a cloud of cold smoke puffs out into the air.

“Bye, dad.” you whisper and spin around.

“Hold on—“

“Yes, I’m still a lesbian!” you bellow unintentionally. His face falls and he’s staring at you blankly—exactly how he looked at you when you packed your things after getting kicked out. Those cruel eyes haunt you. “Have a good life.” and with that you head back to the subway station.

Half a year later, it hurts just the same.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

(Another month later…)

Sae-byeok’s message is loud and clear. She doesn’t want to hear from you anymore. Your only theory is that they all moved to a different location after Deok-su found them. And maybe the reason why they cut contact with you is because they want a fresh start—and you’re part of a haunted past they don’t want to face anymore.

The walk was peaceful. The November leaves were colorful and full of life. The tones of browns and oranges covering the sidewalk gave you hope for a new start. That’s what you love about fall, although the change of leaves is because they’re withered and dead—you portray it as change. That change is for the better and it’ll make life all the more beautiful by the time spring arrives again to wake up the leaves.

This is your last chance. Your last resort and you’re fucking terrified. You officially haven’t heard from them for six months. This is the only other option you have and if nothing comes from it you have to move on. It terrifies you but you’re at a stage in your life where you can’t let this consume you or you will spiral. Even if they don’t want anything to do with you, you just hope they’re okay and most importantly happy with life.

You stand in front of Cheol’s elementary school and you gulp. This is it. If nothing comes out of it, you vow to never look back at the past again. You take a deep breath before stepping inside and to the main office towards the front desk.

“Hello, may I help you?” greets a man around your age with a chipper smile.

You blink at him and struggle to speak at first. It’ll be hard to explain this without it sounding off. “Hi, um, I know this might sound strange but I’d like to know if a student is still enrolled in this school. You see, his sister has gone completely missing and she’s his only guardian so I’d like to know if—if he’s…I don’t know—I guess if he’s okay? His name is Kang Cheol.”

“A—Alright?” his peppy voice wanes. He’s clearly new to this as he glances over at his more senior co-workers. “Let me get back to you on that. Normally, we don’t disclose information about a student unless you’re a parent or guardian but let me see if I can give you that information.”

“Thanks…” you trail off and chew on the inside of your cheek.

From the corner of your eyes, you watch him whisper to his older workers who shot weird glances at you every so often. You unknowingly tap your fingers aggressively against the counter, full on anxious. The waiting is killing you but you have a sense of hope when you see them checking the computer screen. You seriously hope Cheol is okay.

When he comes back, clearing his throat, he deadpans, “So, it says he’s no longer enrolled in this school.”

Your legs feel like jelly. “Huh? Why—“

“I’m sorry that’s the only thing I can tell you since you aren’t a parent or guardian. Which I assume you aren’t?”

Practically in the middle of feeling lightheaded, you feel yourself shake your head. “No. Thanks.” you think you murmur to him and stumble out of the office and out this building.

Once on the sidewalk, you press you back against whatever building you stumbled across and hold back tears. This stress is killing you from the inside out. What the hell happened to them? You don’t even care if they don’t want to see you anymore, you just want to know if they’re safe.

You keep choking back sobs as you were still in public.

Your blurry eyes fall down to the sidewalk and you focus on the leaves. Change—you’re supposed to change. However, you want one last cry.

“Hey—are you alright?” Mi-Cha’s normal tone dies into a worried one when she opens the door to her dorm and sees the state of you.

Your head is ducked low, you’re tightly clutching the sides of your coat, and your body is trembling. When she raises your chin with her hand she gasps at your red face and your even redder eyes.

“I—I don’t know…I just need to hug you.” you croak out.

Without furthering thought she pulls you inside her dormitory, is silently thankful her roommate isn’t here, and brings you to her bed where she solemnly wraps her arms around your shoulders. Your face sinks into the crook of her neck and finally, you let your tears flow like river streams. You two are in this state for a long time, with Mi-Cha rocking your bodies back and forth and you choking on sobs.

Once you finally calm down, you pick your head up and couldn’t stop hiccuping uncontrollably. “I—I don’t think Sae-byeok wants to s—see me anymore.”

She winces and pulls you back into her arms. “Fuck. Hey, don’t worry I’m here if you need to talk.”

But you didn’t want to. You just want to cry your emotions out until there’s nothing left but a void in your chest.

With every tear you shed, you wish it contains the memories of Sae-byeok that you want to forget about. But you don’t know what’s more painful, forgetting or wanting to forget.

If you know yourself, at some point you might’ve loved her. And now that she’s left you for good—you have to turn this love into grief. But grief is just as much a human complexity as it is love, and you aren’t sure how long it’ll take for you to endure it and move past it. It might take you a lifetime to forget about Sae-byeok.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts @wlvlurvsfimmia

[koyagifs]

𝓹.𝓼 𝓲 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾

pairing: san x reader au: idol | best friends to lovers | genre: fluff word count: 3.4 k synopsis: throughout the years you and san sent letters to each other even with his busy lifestyle as an idol. The love letters he never knew until you handed him the last one in person. warning(s): fluff, sweet tooth rotting - literally will get cavities.

October 24, 2018

dear sannie, you've done it!! you debuted!! i couldn't have be a much prouder friend. You looked amazing on stage and in your music videos. Seeing you live your dream brings me much joy. College just started for me and im already nervous to not have you here beside me. You won't forget me right?

love, yn

San smiled at the letter, his heart swelling with warmth. He could almost hear your voice as he read it, the familiar way you always cheered him on, even from afar. Around him, his members noticed the soft expression on his face and couldn’t resist teasing him.

"What’s got you all mushy, San?" Wooyoung smirked, leaning over to peek at the letter.

San quickly folded it, keeping it close to his chest. "Just an old letter from a friend," he said, but the fondness in his tone gave him away.

"A friend, huh?" Yunho chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve been smiling at that thing for ten minutes. Must be a pretty special friend."

"She is," San admitted softly, his gaze lingering on the folded paper.

The teasing continued, but San didn’t mind. To him, that letter was more than just words on a page—it was a reminder of you, the person who had always believed in him, no matter how far apart you were. And in that moment, he felt closer to you than ever.

January 31, 2021

Dear Sannie, Congratulations on your first Bonsang! my roommate and i watched it, she's a huge fan by the way. I couldn't help but cry ha - i can already hear you call me a big baby. I can't help it. You and your members deserved the win and so much more. I hope you're doing well. Your parents had invited me over for spring break saying you'll be there. I hope i get to see you there ~

love, yn

San felt guilt creep on him when he read your letter. He had told his parents that he would try to make it for break but unknowningly had such a busy schedule (more like year) .

Spring break had come and gone, and he hadn't been able to make it home like he had promised. Promotions, rehearsals, and countless other commitments had eaten up his time. His parents had told him you were looking forward to seeing him, but it hurt him to know he had let you down, even though you likely understood.

He thought back to the letter you had sent him—your words still fresh in his mind. Your gentle, supportive tone had made him feel even worse. He knew you weren’t upset or angry, but that didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at him. Your understanding was something he cherished, but it also made him feel even more responsible for not being able to fulfill his promise.

July 9, 2021

Dear Sannie, i saw your company confirm that you have covid. I hope you're well and getting plenty of rest. I'm worried about you, thankfully your mom is very assuring. It's been so long since we last seen each other and i think im officially have choi san withdrawals. haha only took like 4 years to have withdrawals from your annoying ass. in all seriousness, i truly do miss you san. i graduate soon, you'll be there right?

love, yn

San’s heart sank as he read your letter. The warmth of your words mixed with the concern you expressed about his health made him feel both comforted and guilty. He knew you must’ve been worried when the news of his diagnosis broke, and the last thing he wanted was to cause you any additional stress. He had been keeping a low profile, resting as much as he could, but your message reminded him of how much he missed you and how badly he wanted to be there for you.

He leaned back on his bed, sighing softly. It had been too long, and your humor—your way of bringing light to everything—was something he dearly missed. He smiled at the thought of your "Choi San withdrawals" comment, shaking his head at how much you loved to tease him. Even now, you were still able to make him laugh, even when he was feeling miserable.

July 6,2024

Your fingers were clenched around the straps of your tote bag, the weight of the letters inside feeling oddly heavy, despite being just paper. The photocard of San and Sandeoki tucked inside the bag was a small comfort, but the true contents were the letters you had written to him over the years—letters you never had the courage to send.

You had written them during moments of missing him, of wondering when you'd see him again, or just to express things you never got to say in person. Some were long, filled with stories and updates, others short and simple. But all of them were filled with love, concern, and a longing that had never truly gone away, no matter how much time passed.

Today, you decided, would be the day to let him read them. Maybe it was the fact that you had so much PTO saved up, or maybe it was just the need to reconnect after all this time. But either way, you were determined to surprise him.

You couldn’t believe it. You were in the front row, the best seat you could ever have hoped for, and the adrenaline was almost too much to handle. The energy from the crowd was contagious, buzzing through the air like electricity. The excitement around you was palpable, fans chattering and eagerly looking for their favorite idols. You felt like you were in a dream, surrounded by the cheers and anticipation.

And then, it happened.

The moment you’d been waiting for was finally here. You could feel the air in the room shift as the members made their way down the stage, waving and smiling at everyone, their energy infecting the crowd. The cheers grew louder, but amidst it all, your heart was beating so fast you thought it might explode. The closer they got, the more real the situation felt—and the more nervous you became.

Your row was the first to head up for their interaction, and now you found yourself standing up, unsure if your legs would support you. You clutched your hands together, trying to calm your nerves, but your heart was thudding in your chest. You had prepared yourself for this moment, but now that it was here, everything felt like a blur.

As you walked towards them, your gaze instinctively found him—San. He was closer now, his smile warm and genuine as he interacted with the fans ahead of you. You could hardly believe it. The boy who had been such a big part of your life, now right in front of you. Your mind was racing, and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The cheering around you, the music playing softly in the background—it all faded as you focused solely on him.

Mingi’s playful tone made you laugh, and your nerves eased a little as you settled into the moment. You had always enjoyed Mingi’s energy, his teasing and carefree nature making interactions like this feel lighthearted. As he signed your album, his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Yn, you said... hm..." he hummed thoughtfully, looking up at you. "Tell San that he's a lucky guy~" he continued with a wink, his teasing tone drawing out a laugh from you.

You couldn’t help but smile, a small blush creeping up your cheeks at his comment.

he playful banter made the nervous energy you had carried with you melt away, replaced by the warmth of his friendly presence.

Mingi handed your album back to you, his signature neatly added to the cover, before squeezing your hand lightly. "I’m glad you’re here, Yn. It’s been too long. Let’s make sure you get to see San properly later. He’s been talking about you a lot lately, actually."

Your heart skipped at his words, a mix of curiosity and excitement stirring within you. Mingi’s smile softened for a moment before he winked again, clearly enjoying the way he was getting to you.

"Don’t keep him waiting, hm?" he added teasingly.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened the moment he saw you, and the surprise was written all over his face. He stopped mid-signature, staring at you for a moment as if trying to process what was happening. It was clear that he recognized you, and that realization made the moment feel even more surreal.

"So, you're the long lost bestie, hm?" Hongjoong teased, a playful smirk forming on his lips. His tone was light, but there was a warmth in his eyes, like he was genuinely happy to see you again.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, the familiarity of his teasing making you feel right at home. "You can say that," you replied with a grin, shaking your head at how easily he had caught onto the situation. You hadn’t expected him to recognize you so quickly, but Hongjoong was always the type to notice the little details.

His eyes softened as he leaned forward slightly, clearly amused but also curious. "San’s been talking about you a lot, you know," he added with a wink, almost as if it was a secret he was letting slip.

Hongjoong’s smile widened at your words, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he waved a staff member over. "I’m sure it’s all good things," he said with a wink, clearly enjoying the playful dynamic between the two of you. His attention shifted momentarily as he muttered something to the staff member, gesturing toward you.

You couldn’t help but feel a little curious, but you smiled at Hongjoong’s antics, knowing it was all in good fun. "It’s really nice to meet you too, Hongjoong oppa," you said, giving him a bright smile before starting to move down the line.

As you moved toward San, your heart raced even faster, the excitement mixing with a fresh wave of nerves. It had been years since you last saw him, and now, here you were—standing right in front of him again. It felt surreal, as if time had frozen for a moment, and you were about to close the distance that had stretched between the two of you.

San’s eyes met yours, and there was a flicker of recognition before his lips curled into that familiar, warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. You could see the slight surprise in his eyes, followed by a softness that only he could give you.

He took your album gently, his fingers brushing against yours as he began to sign it. The way he looked at you, his focus entirely on you, made everything feel more personal than you ever expected. His smile deepened, almost like he was processing the moment, and you could feel the weight of all those years apart—yet somehow, it felt like no time had passed at all.

"Yn…" San said your name softly, almost as if he was savoring it, and the way his voice carried your name sent a rush of warmth through you. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, trying to ease the nerves that had gripped you. "I didn’t expect to be here either," you replied, your voice quieter than you intended, but filled with the same affection that had always been there.

San paused for a moment, looking up at you with a tender expression. It was like he wanted to say something more, but the words got caught somewhere between his heart and his lips. Instead, he offered a quiet chuckle, almost as if he was trying to find his footing in this long-awaited moment.

"I’ve missed you," he finally said, his voice low but sincere. The words made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but smile, your nerves slowly melting away as you soaked in the familiar presence of the person who had been such a big part of your life.

"I’ve missed you too, San," you whispered, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you. "It’s really good to see you again."

As you handed San the stack of letters, you felt a quiet sense of relief. These were the letters you had never sent, all the thoughts and feelings you had stored over the years—now in his hands, where they belonged. He took them gently, looking up at you with a mixture of surprise and appreciation, his smile widening as he held them close.

Before any staff member could take the letters from him, San playfully shooed them away, his gaze never leaving you. "These are mine now," he said with a soft laugh, his voice warm and full of affection. You could tell he wasn’t going to let them go that easily.

Then, his eyes softened, scanning you as if noticing the smallest details for the first time in a long while. "You look amazing, by the way," he added, his tone sincere and appreciative. The compliment caught you off guard, but it made you smile—there was something about hearing it from him that made it feel even more special.

"Thanks, San," you replied, your heart fluttering a little. "You don’t look too bad yourself," you teased, trying to ease the tension with a playful tone, though the warmth you felt inside was undeniable.

He chuckled, his expression lighting up with amusement. "I’ll take that as a compliment," he said, his eyes sparkling. There was an easy, natural chemistry between the two of you, and it felt as though the years apart had only made this moment even more meaningful.

San’s fingers tightened slightly around the letters, a silent promise that he would read every single one. He met your gaze again, his eyes intense yet gentle. "I’m really glad you’re here, Yn," he said softly. "I missed you more than I realized."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding as a wave of emotion washed over you. The moment felt so intimate, so real, that it was hard to believe everything you had gone through had led to this—this moment with him, right in front of you, ready to pick up where you left off.

You weren't completely shocked when a staff member pulled you aside when you headed to the bathroom. They took you to the back where you see San's manager who looked at you with a smile.

You were a little taken aback, but the manager’s warm smile quickly put you at ease. You nodded, a bit of nervousness still hanging in the air, and bowed respectfully as you replied, “Yes, I’m Yn. It’s really nice to meet you.”

His smile widened even further, the kind of friendly, reassuring smile that made you feel comfortable. “Great!” he said, his voice light and friendly. “Hongjoong wanted to make sure you get to spend the proper time with San after the fan greeting. You don’t have anything planned afterwards, right?”

The question threw you off for a second, but the surprise quickly melted into something more like anticipation. You hadn’t expected this kind of opportunity, and you found yourself almost speechless for a moment.

“No, nothing planned,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t have anywhere to be after this.”

The manager’s expression softened, clearly pleased. “Perfect. I’ll make sure San knows. He’ll be happy to see you again, I’m sure.”

You could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach as you processed what he had said. You were being given a chance to spend some actual time with San after the fan greeting—something you never thought would happen. It felt like the universe had suddenly conspired to bring everything full circle.

San's excitement was palpable as he made his way backstage, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by an eager energy. He had been looking forward to spending time with you since the moment he saw you during the fan greeting, and now that it was finally happening, his anticipation was nearly overwhelming.

As he hurried through the corridors, he spotted a seat near where the members had been resting—empty. His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew you must be somewhere nearby. His footsteps quickened, a smile tugging at his lips as he made his way toward the back.

He spotted the manager first, and without missing a beat, San called out, “Where is she?”

The manager’s face lit up at the sight of San, clearly enjoying the interaction. “She’s just down the hall, waiting for you.”

San’s grin grew even wider, and he didn’t waste a second. He rushed down the hallway, the anticipation rising with every step, until he finally rounded the corner and saw you. There you were, standing by the door, looking just as excited and nervous as he felt. Your presence made everything feel more real, and his heart swelled with happiness.

When you saw him, a smile broke out across your face, and before you could say anything, San was already there, walking towards you with long strides. The moment you locked eyes, the world around you seemed to fade. The years apart, the distance—none of it mattered now.

"Yn," San said your name softly, his voice full of warmth and something else, something deeper. He was standing right in front of you now, his eyes searching yours, as though taking in every little detail.

The moment San’s arms wrapped around you, everything felt like it clicked back into place. All the years apart, the distance, the longing—it all flooded back in an overwhelming rush. You could feel the tension in your body release as he pulled you in close, his warmth wrapping around you like a familiar blanket.

Tears started to blur your vision as they rolled down your cheeks, unexpected yet somehow inevitable. The years you had spent missing him, the silent ache in your chest, and the excitement of finally being here, in his arms—it was all too much. You let the emotions flow freely, no longer holding back.

San’s grip tightened around you, his hands soothingly rubbing your back, as if grounding you in the moment. His voice was soft, filled with concern, but laced with the same warmth that had always made you feel safe. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice just for you. “I’m here now. I’m right here.”

His words, so familiar yet so comforting, broke something inside you, and you cried even harder. It was the release you didn’t know you needed, the culmination of everything you had kept bottled up for years.

San pulled back slightly, just enough to look at your face, his expression filled with a mix of understanding and tenderness. His thumb gently wiped the tears from your cheeks, his gaze softening as he smiled down at you. “I’m so sorry it took this long,” he whispered.

You sniffed, still overwhelmed by everything but grateful beyond words. “Me too,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t know how much I needed this until now.”

San’s hands cupped your face, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You don’t ever have to wait this long again,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make sure of that.”

San’s breath hitched slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His heart raced as you gently pressed your lips to his, the kiss tender and full of unspoken feelings. The moment felt like it was suspended in time, both of you lost in the shared connection that had been years in the making.

The soft warmth of his lips against yours was everything you had been yearning for during the long time apart. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, a shared understanding of all the moments that led up to this one. You could feel the way his hands instinctively tightened around you, pulling you even closer, as if he never wanted to let you go again.

The kiss deepened, slow and careful, as if both of you were savoring the reunion. Every little touch, every breath, felt like the culmination of everything you had missed and everything you were about to rediscover together.

When you finally pulled away, you both lingered, foreheads resting against each other, breathing heavily, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions. San’s hands remained on your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your skin as he looked at you with such softness in his eyes.

" promise?"

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “I promise.”

You smiled, a sense of peace washing over you, knowing that this time, you didn’t have to wait any longer.

[polgarawolf1]

Wow. Okay. So, you never read Catalyst or the novelization for Rogue One huh?

Okay, so, seriously, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but there isn't some "grand" prisonbreak escape, prior to the opening of Rogue One on Lah'mu. The Ersos basically sneak out of a luxury penthouse suite on Coruscant and then go on the run with help from Saw Gerrera. The "prison" is a ginormous building Galen works in - one that Orson has had built solely with Galen's work in mind - with, again, a massively luxurious penthouse suite that he and his family live in. Lyra is even allowed to take work off-world (she's also allowed to take her best friend, Nari Sable, with her, as well as Jyn), at a dig on Alpinn, shortly before she convinces Galen that they need to run. Lyra could've left before then at any time she'd wanted to and she probably could've taken Jyn with her at any time if she'd really want to, too, but she doesn't. She stays with Galen in that penthouse for around a year and (despite brooding constantly about how much she dislikes/distrusts Orson Krennic and how much she diapproves of her husband's work involving kyber crystals, which are sacred to the Jedi and which she believes shouldn't be meddled with) never seriously thinks about needing to convince Galen that their whole family needs to get out of there until AFTER she finds out more about what the Empire's been doing out in the greater galaxy, after wheedling what amounts to an unscantioned joyride through part of the protected Western Reaches on her way back to Coruscant (and her so-called "prison") from Alpinn.

Also, Lyra doesn't turn back because she believes she can actually save Galen, even though she does hope she might be able to (for at least a little while, long enough for them to try to run, long enough that Krennic will lose more time having to hunt them down again) and she also does try to threaten Krennic into letting them go. She ruins all of their plans for when/if the Empire shows up because she's angry at Orson Krennic for finding them, angry that they've had to go into hiding because of him, even more angry that Galen has stayed behind to try to buy her and Jyn enough time to cleanly escape, and she outright hates Orson Krennic. That's it. That's her motivation. She hates the man and she's pissed off, so she completely abandons all of the family's plans and her basically helpless eight-year-old daughter (even after mentally acknowledging the fact that, in doing so, she's basically doomed Jyn) and she turns around and tries to take a shot at Orson. And, please note, she only does this AFTER they all know that she's there and there's absolutely no chance of any kind of element of surprise that might allow her and Galen to escape in the confusion.

Lyra is angry and she very clearly cares more about her anger and her hatred than she does her daughter's life or her husband's wishes. She basically suicides by cop (by an Imperial death squad, to be precise), knowing that she's badly misjudged how Krennic might react to being threatened by a woman with a single blaster (when he's in the company of an entire squad of Death Trooper bodyguards, mind!) and that she'll never actually be able to stop the Empire from taking Galen back, because she frankly hates Krennic so much (something that is expounded about at such great length in Catalyst - even when the man has literally just saved the family from a probable fate worse than death, involving being handed over by one band of Separatists to Dooku, with Galen being forced to work for Dooku - that it's frankly a bit scary) that she can't stand to let him "win" in regards to Galen. The text doesn't quite goes so far as to say so outright, but it sure seems like she takes that shot knowing that Krennic's bodyguard will kill her, solely in order to make absolutely sure that the last real bond between Krennic and Galen is irrevocably shattered by her death

So. She arbitrarily throws plans out the window because she's mad. She abandons her young daughter, knowing that it means Jyn will probably not manage to get away (Lyra's own thought being that "she's done," with the strong implication that this means Jyn will die, as a result). And then she takes a hopeless pot shot at a man who's surrounded by bodyguards, knowing that the result will be that the death troopers will kill her.

Sorry, but that is NOT someone to hold up as some kind of moral hero or selfless revolutionary. Lyra Erso tries to kill a man she hates because she's angry. That's what it boils down to. What she tries to do is basically the same sort of thing, if on a much smaller scale, as Anakin Skywalker does when slaughtering that entire Tusken Raider village (including men, women, and children), only the sole things driving her are anger and hate (not grief/sorrow/suffering and fury). That Orson Krennic is an agent of the Empire and, thus, pretty darn arguably evil is beside the point. (That's an apologist's argument, the same sort of argument that tries to says that the Tuskens deserved to be massacred down to the last babe in arms for Shmi's death, as though the entire settlement could or should be held accounted for the actions of the few who actually kidnapped and tortured her and the entire long history of violence between the indigenous Tusken Raiders and the, well, colonizing moisture farmers.) No matter what Krennic has or hasn't done by this point in time, he still does NOT deserve to be murdered by an angry woman just because she hates him. She doesn't do it for any kind of noble or selfless reasons. The text makes it very clear that she's furious about everything, hates Krennic, and hopes to use the threat of the blaster to frighten him into letting them go, so that he'll have to waste more time and effort and resources tracking them down again afterwards and they'll have at least a brief shot at some freedom again.

If she were truly some kind of revoluntionary selfless hero, then in that moment, having realized just how hopeless the situation truly was, what Lyra shoud have done was to shoot and kill her husband, to "save" him by ensuring that the Empire could not take him again. Instead, she wasted her only shot on a pointless, empty gesture. She barely wings Krennic's shoulders and the death troopers blast her and she dies. After that, it's pure sheer dumb luck that Jyn actually manages to get to the caves and their prepared hiding spot and get herself into it before the death troopers can find her. And, well, we know what that ends up leading to . . .

thinking about the lens andor puts on rogue one and like. lyra erso is actually sooo fascinating because contextually here’s a woman who had actively managed to escape from being taken imperial prisoner with her CHILD (and from the context being helped by, even joining one of the most radical anti imperial cells) and instead turned around for one narrow chance to kill an important imperial officer. she doesn’t succeed, and probably didn’t even she would, but it was worth a try. (did she really think it would save Galen? with all those troopers there, i don’t think she did.) and that’s a fascinating choice to make, between physically surviving and living with your child amid the empire, or putting it all on the line for one shot at dismantling some part of the empire, and also that lyra erso made a more complicated choice than most action movies would go for 

[cosmicjoke]

I saw @acmeangel's analysis post on this scene, which is fantastic and which everyone should read, and I was going to add my thoughts to their post, but then it got too long (as usual), and I didn't want to hijack their analysis, so I decided to just make my own, haha. This really is an important scene which essentially encapsulates the difference between Levi and Erwin and which I think ultimately showcases what makes Levi such a genuine hero.

One of the overarching messages of AoT is that we shouldn't give up our humanity in pursuit of an ideological goal. I've talked a lot about how Levi puts his trust in Erwin and admires him so much because he sees Erwin's ability to set aside his personal feelings for the greater good as a virtuous quality, one which Levi hopes to be able to one day emulate. Levi sees Erwin as superior to himself for this ability, because Levi, no matter how hard he tries, isn't ever able to do the same. He's never able to set emotion aside. He's never able to make decisions detached from emotion. He's never able to send soldiers to their deaths without it tearing him apart and creating in him a sense of conflict. He's never quite able to convince himself that the thing these soldiers are dying for, which they choose to die for, is actually worth it, which is also why he works so hard to bring their goal to fruition. He can't accept that those lives were given in vain, but the only way to ensure that they weren't is to make their dream comes true. Because to Levi, it's their lives that have value, not the cause itself.

One of Levi's most defining traits, one which makes him stand out from basically every other character in the story, is that he has no dream of his own. Rather, he carries the dreams of others, makes himself the custodian of those dreams, and dedicates himself to their realization.

When he says in this scene that a pointless death doesn't suit anyone, what he's saying is that the cause Erwin is sacrificing soldiers for has to prove itself worthy of their lives, that it has to amount to something equal in value to those lives. Because that's the thing, Levi values life above all else. He sees each, individual life as being as important as the whole of humanity, and I think that aspect of Levi's character is demonstrated fully during the RtS arc, when he makes the choice to end Erwin's suffering. People argue and claim that Levi made the wrong choice here because they don't understand the thematic significance of it, getting caught up in speculation about whether Erwin would have been able to prevent the war between Paradis and Marley, whether Erwin would have been able to stop the Rumbling, etc... By getting caught up in that, they completely miss the point of how the story wants the audience to understand the importance of not giving up our humanity for any cause. It's trying to show us, through Levi's choice, why we can't let any cause or ideological movement turn us cruel. Levi's refusal to be cruel, his refusal to throw away his humanity, is meant to be seen as a good thing, and ultimately, ironically, it's Levi's humanity and compassion that makes him a superior man to Erwin.

Erwin tries to assuage his own guilt by telling himself that the lives given were for a cause greater than any, individual life. The cause of humanity. This is a narrative he clings to until he's forced to admit to himself that what he really was after in sending all these soldiers to their deaths was his personal pursuit of knowledge, in another attempt to assuage his guilt for the death of his father. Erwin sacrifices his humanity for a goal which is self-serving, and as he's forced to contend with that reality, his guilt grows tenfold, fracturing his psyche and self-identity. But even if his every decision had been for the so-called greater good, even if he'd been 100% dedicated to his duty as Commander, he still would have been left with a sense of guilt and self-loathing for sacrificing lives to this nebulous cause, just like Hange ultimately was, because the whole point of the contrast between Levi and Erwin is to show that, in the end, Levi is the one whom the audience should strive to emulate, not Erwin.

This moment in the story is driving home the point of choosing compassion over ideology, or even duty. Levi's choice is imperative in demonstrating to us that if we sacrifice our own, personal humanity, if we give into becoming cruel and unfeeling, if we lose sight of the very thing that drove us to wanting the world to be a better place to begin with, that being our compassion and desire to end the suffering of others, no matter how justified the cause may seem, we're essentially sacrificing humanity itself. Because it's when you start becoming cruel, for any cause, that everything turns to shit, both for ourselves and the world around us. It's cruelty that leads into justification of more cruelty, which leads into justification of atrocities. Bringing Erwin back, forcing him back into that role which was tearing him apart, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, would have been purely an act of cruelty. But Levi isn't a cruel man. He's exactly the opposite. He's a man defined by his compassion and kindness. And what is AoT advocating for if not greater compassion and kindness in the face of a cruel world? It's telling us that the kind of compassion that Levi showed to Erwin in his dying moments is how we should choose to fight against the world's injustices and cruelties.

Because all the bad things that happen in AoT, essentially, happen because of a willingness to sacrifice ones humanity for ideology or for personal, selfish desires, and because it's those of us who retain our humanity and compassion, despite the cruelty of the world, and despite any supposed duty to any professed cause, that end up being able to live, as Levi says, with no regrets. This idea of sacrificing what we know is right for some abstract, nebulous goal of a better tomorrow is what leads to the destruction and corruption of our inner selves, and that, ironically, makes a better tomorrow impossible. If we become corrupted, if we allow ourselves to be lost to this idea of the greater good, in the end, it will only continue on the cycle of destruction.

Levi never sacrifices what he believes is right, never acts in any way which goes against his conscience. He never betrays his humanity. He maintains his compassion from beginning to end, and he never wavers in what he's fighting for, which, again, is every, individual life. That's what makes Levi a hero. His inability and refusal to set his personal feelings aside is, in the end, meant to be seen as the correct course. Because Levi's personal feelings have nothing to do with a dream or a goal. They have nothing to do with an ideology or movement. They aren't rooted in self-gain or greed. His sense of duty isn't to a cause, not to a country or an empire, or a sense of retribution or revenge. His duty, his obligation, is to doing what he feels, in his heart, is the right thing, what his personal feelings tell him is the right thing, no matter the situation or circumstances, no matter, even, if it turns out to have been the right choice or not. And that ties back into Levi's extraordinary compassion and empathy. It's his compassion and empathy which dictate his personal feelings of right and wrong, and his dedication to not betraying that sense is what ultimately dictates all his choices.

Levi thought of himself as a lesser man than Erwin because of this. Because of the way he wasn't able to set his personal feelings aside in the choices he made. It's why he chose to follow Erwin, because he thought it made Erwin superior to himself. But in truth, it's that quality of Levi's, that deep seated empathy, that makes him the better man. He can't detach himself from his compassion, he can't make choices without considering the consequences and impact of those choices on others, or even without making that consideration the principle factor in his choices, and that's a good thing. That's humanity. That's what makes the world a better place. By caring about how our choices affect others. That's not meant to be seen as a bad thing. Levi's kindness and empathy isn't meant to be seen as wrong.

Levi never betrays who he is, and he never betrays what he believes in, even as everyone around him does, at one point or another. That's true strength, that's true courage, that's true heroism. Someone who cares so much about people that he can't make a choice without factoring in the thoughts, feelings and desires of those people. Levi is meant to be the audience's role model, the character we're meant to want to be more like. Not Erwin. Because no matter how noble the goal we pursue, if we stop caring about each other in that pursuit, it all becomes for naught.