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benevolentcalamity · 2 days ago

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Once a Father, Never a Daddy [Abusive!Doflamingo & Fem!Child!Reader][1/2]

I do not know him enough so I'm not at all confident in my ability to write him, so I apologize in advance. So I'm very happy accepting criticism/tips. (I'm just after Thriller Bark btw.)

Disclaimer: This fic contains graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect and may be considered triggering. Please do not read more if you cannot handle these themes. If you or a loved one has gone through this, you're absolutely not alone, and help/better days are always there.

Also, this is split in two because when you get fics too long, Tumblr just starts lagging and that REALLY annoys me. So I apologize in advance if pacing's not as stellar as most of my stuff. I'll make it up to you.

CURTAINS!

"DADDY, LET ME OUT!!!"

Your little hands bang on the impossibly still door until the skin splits on your knuckles. With all your might you scratch, slap, and pound on the wood, feeling it press a little stronger against you with your resistance. Tears pouring down your cheeks your hair stands on end as the darkness behind you settles in; a punishment you know too well.

"PLEASE DADDY, I'M SORRY!" You scream, hands already raw from struggle. "DADDY, PLEASE, LET ME OUT! I WON'T DO IT AGAIN, I PROMISE!"

A harsh pound that rattles the door, resounding through your room, sends a piercing chill through your stomach and sends you to the floor. Scooting back and hurrying to your feet, you prepare for the doorknob to twist, for him to come barging in and demand you not make any more noise. But this is enough to scare you into silence - and he seems to know that now.

Softly you sniffle, reaching out as the all-too-familiar sound of the knob being secured and locked clicks. Wiping away your tears you stand, reaching and just barely wrapping your hand around it. With all your might you grab and attempt to twist; it doesn't budge an inch.

"... Please let me out..."

There's a sound like feet retreating from the door, and the loneliness finally hits as you back up, defeat weighing your shoulders. Slinking away, you turn back towards your room. First thing to catch your attention is your nightstand, bereft of the lamp Uncle Rossi gave you to cut through the dark. It had a smell to it, somehow, and you really liked it.

Without it you can't stand the dark - and as punishment for not doing what daddy said, it's gone. Wiping a stray tear from your cheek you grab your stuffed lamb Cuppy, putting him on the bed before pitter-pattering to your wardrobe.

creak

Your eyes shoot to the door, back stiffening as your hair stands on end. Every limb freezes, and your heart leaps into your throat. Swallowing, your hands go up to prepare to shield your head, lest your noise have bothered anyone. As your fingers chill to the bone, your knees lock and the darkness creeps back into your senses.

The doorknob twitches. Your hands fly to your mouth to keep from shrieking. Tears revived and leaking, you await on bated breath... It does make daddy especially angry, after all, when you try to hide from him.

You still have the scar on your arm.

A lump forms and engorges, threatening to choke you if you don't make a sound. You learned better from screaming "Go away" or "I hate you", so that's simply not an option. Gritting your teeth you step more into the open, hoping that an effort not to hide would let you get your lamp back. Hiding, running away... all of it is pointless.

After an eternity it jimmies and then turns after a few small clicks, and a familiar black and red lit up by the hallway relaxes you into relieved elation.

"Uncle Rossi-!" You whisper-yell, him putting a finger to his lips and looking behind him.

With quick movements he beckons you forward, and you rush to him in the time it takes to put a plate full of food on the small chair near the door. Kneeling down he pats your cheek and kisses your forehead, giving you a toothy, reassuring grin.

"Don't forget to eat out the window, and drop it once you're done. It's okay, dad won't notice one plate being missing," He whispers, ruffling your hair. "I'm not letting you go to bed hungry." He's done this every time. "... It's going to be okay, little cutie. I promise."

You nod. "... Does daddy still love me?"

For a moment he's quiet. His expression falls solemn, head lifting to look over his shoulder again. With a sigh, his hand ruffles your hair one more time, before suddenly he smiles again.

"I love you!" He chirps. The words wrap around your heart, like a soft fleece blanket, and like a charm, your sorrow is calmed, and your tears finally stop. "Don't forget that, okay? Uncle Rossi loves you."

Nodding, you finally manage to smile. "I love you too, Uncle Rossi."

His head snaps up again, and he pats your head and hurries out. The doorknob again is secured, and his feet fade out quickly. Swallowing, you grab the plate, carefully bringing it to the window. Unlatching it you crouch as the panes swing over your head, setting the plate of food - bouillabaisse - on the ledge and chowing down.

The moonlight peers out from the clouds like your only friend, and peace returns again to your heart.

"... It'll be different tomorrow..." You tremble. "I won't be bad again, I promise..."

Finishing with urgency, you drop the plate and fork into the sea, pushing the window closed and locked. Crawling into bed, you listen to the footsteps above your room, to the sea calming outside. Yawning, you drift into the now placated shadows, hugging Cuppy close to your heart.

___

A sound like something dropping to the ground above you wakes you with a start. Swallowing harshly you're quick to climb out of bed, little time to spare, and wipe your mouth as you rush to your wardrobe. You're just quick enough to grab one of your favorite cotton shirts, a pair of shorts, and a clean pair of underwear as the doorknob is unbound and unlocked.

You swallow, harshly, rushing towards the center again as dad's blond hair peeks atop the door. As he straightens back up, his head doesn't need to look long to find you. Feet planting in place, you watch, hands clenched to keep from shaking and lip wobbling, as he approaches.

"Behave, maggot," He hisses, holding his hand out.

Eyebrow quirked at you managing not to flinch, he impatiently taps his foot as you reach up to it. Harshly he grabs it, yanking you forward. His large pace forces you into a jog, matching his pace with every third step. At first you're staring up at him, waiting for him to even turn his head your way, to ask how you slept, or even just what you want for breakfast. Or maybe, just maybe, that he loves you and today it'll be different. Better, even.

None of this happens. Your bottom lip wobbles as the familiar doors to the bathroom appear past the corner.

"Take a damn bath." He shoves you to another crewmate, not even giving you a glance. "Watch it, keep it away from me."

Your hand reaches for him as you're guided into the bathroom. "Daddy?" Without a glance or gesture, your lip wobbles further, heart tying in knots. "DADDY!"

A dark cloud weighs on your shoulders again, guiding you to the bathtub as said crewmate puts some soap beside it and a towel. Patting your head in pity, he kneels down to murmur in your ear.

"Disobedient children aren't rewarded." The words are an icy dagger in your stomach. "... If you want your daddy to love you, maybe you should be a good child that deserves to be loved."

With that you're left alone, breath hitched in your throat as your heart runs cold. Staring at your reflection in the water, you cast aside your dirty clothes, stepping into it and sitting. The lukewarm water manages to chill you to the bone, to where you need to hug your knees to feel warm. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you glance at the door, waiting... and waiting...

You sigh, pinching your nose and turning sideways to completely submerge. Curling up, your [h/c] hair waves out in tendrils as your legs minutely twitch in unease. As your lungs slowly grow sore, you momentarily wonder if it's even possible to be good... What did you do? Why won't dad look your way?

Sitting back up, you gulp down air as the answer to your question comes from the red syrup of your shampoo.

"... Just do what daddy says?" Would that make him happy? Will he love you? Do what he says without complaining... Yea, it's as simple as that, isn't it? "... I'll be a good girl. I won't complain about daddy's work."

Yea. It's as simple as that.

Rinsing your head clean, you comb the conditioner from your hair under the running water. Reaching you grab the towel and brush, drying off and putting yourself together, painstaking as the process of brushing your hair is. All the same you finish, tying it back. Sliding back into your shoes you jump up onto the knob, it turning in your hold, and let the door swing open, taking you with it. Lowering back onto your feet, you turn-

"Get your ass to the poop deck." You're shoved into a pace, which you continue with a nod. "Captain's orders, help out with scrubbin' if you want breakfast."

"I understand."

It's unbearably hot.

Dunking your brush in the cold, soapy water, you wince at the glare of the sun on the sea, washing away dirt and scum. It takes a few swipes, being as small as you are, but you manage. It's a process that sees you biting your lip so hard in concentration that it bleeds, but you do your best, scrub until your arms are sore, and repeat.

"-and as I was saying, Rosinante, it's complete bullshit."

Dad's voice makes you perk up, and you turn a bit to see where he's coming from. A big smile is what you present as he and Uncle Rossi ascend from below deck, waiting for him to look your way. Dad doesn't but Uncle Rossi gives you a massive smile and thumbs up before dad jabs him, regaining his attention.

"We've had issues with this same supplier awhile now. The frequency of our visits is starting to annoy me."

Standing up from scrubbing, you take a deep breath. Pittering over to him you find his leg, swallowing. Rearing, you take a small leap, wrapping your arms around it like a peach tree.

"Daddy~!" You let out, hugging him tightly-

A harsh kick to your stomach, sending you all the way back to your bucket and straight onto your ass.

...

... Oh.

I'm not doing enough... You turn back to the bucket and brush, biting back tears. Just keep going... Do your best. Daddy will love you if you do.

All the same, your tears keep falling onto your hard work.

A hand on your head, ruffling your hair, tugs you from your sorrow. Looking up, Uncle Rossi crouches down beside you, pointing at your bucket. Now it's too cloudy and dirty to clean efficiently. Managing a nod, you wipe your tears with your arm, standing up and dumping the bucket.

Keeping a tight hold on it, you pause just as you're at dad's side, gaze turning from below deck to him.

"... Do you love me?" You ask.

Not even a glance. You raise up on your tippy-toes, tilting your head.

"Daddy?" You ask again. "Do you love me?"

Lowering, you wait, staring and waiting for what... really has to be forever. Before long though tears blur your vision, and you bite back a sniff as you rush below deck. Not good enough - you're just not good enough yet. If you work to the bone, if you're so to-the-letter it's painful, that's when he'll look your way. You just have to remember that.

Be perfect, and nothing less; push past your limits; endure and don't cry. It'll be unbearably hard, but if you manage to do all of this, dad has to love you.

It's not a long walk to where there's more water by any means. Operating the pump, that's the real test, but you manage just by jumping up onto it. It pinches down on your wrist every time it comes back down, but it doesn't hurt long. Rubbing the red marks it makes, you begin the arduous task of carrying the bucket.

Sloshing and rocking against your body, you stiffen your legs anytime you feel yourself wobble. When the water reaches and touches your chin you wince, staying still until it stops. Every maybe three steps and you're losing your grip, but still you try.

Something swipes the bottom of your feet, and your shrieks are drowned by the water pouring onto your face as you fall onto your butt. Bucket landing perfectly onto your head to hide your face, the cruel laughter of passing crewmates resounds through the rotting wood.

"Better mop that up, kid! You made that mess!"

For a moment you're stuck, legs too heavy to move. You try to move your arms, but there's no feeling. Swallowing, you try to open your mouth to complain, but the lump in your throat takes the sound before you make it. A mix of tears and water pours down your face, your jaw starting to wobble. Biting your lip harshly you force yourself back to your feet.

The bucket slides off your head, falling harshly to the floor. For a moment your gaze turns back to the steps leading above deck.

... Mop first.

Clutching your shirt tightly, your shoes squish against the floor as you go to find the mop, usually near the bathroom. Sniffling harshly, you wipe your face, shaking your head like it'll get rid of this horrible lump. Still your lips purse, and still everything hurts when the supply closet door opens. Reaching, you take the mop in your hands and take a deep breath.

Do your best...

'Watch it, keep it away from me.'

It. You.

... Get out of the way. Maybe that's what he wants.

As much as you want to go back, to try again, maybe it'll just be better to put yourself away. It'd be... a nice reprieve, maybe. And maybe they'll have something good to eat for lunch, seeing as you might not get breakfast after all. That's just what happens sometimes, after all.

You want to puke; to cry; to scream; to just run to Uncle Rossi. Everything and anything feels more like a dead end the more you think, until you've come up blank on what else to do.

"... I hate this..." You whimper, rubbing your arm as you pitter-patter back to your room. I don't know what's wrong with me...

... Someone, please...

Tears well up in your eyes.

Someone tell me what's wrong! Tell me what's bad! Please tell me, someone-!

Your pace picks up, eventually zooming past countless doors and shapes.

Just... How much longer...?

In what must have been a blink you're safe back in your room. For a second you turn back to the door, cheeks waterlogged and red, waiting for footsteps. Wanting someone to just scoop you up and hold you, tell you what's wrong with you - or that maybe nothing is... Is there?

Meandering to your window, you crack it open, and dad's voice is the first thing you hear.

"... Where's the problem?"

"What do you mean, Doflamingo sir?"

"I mean, where's the fucking maggot." Your heart feels a sharp, cold sting.

"She- it went back below deck. I can fetch it so it can keep scrubbing-"

"I didn't give it an order to do chores, I gave you an order to keep it away from me. Looks like it knows what that means. But enough about it. We're arriving to Foam Town shortly, for the supplier. Don't forget the orders."

"Get the Devil Fruit, and kill him, right?"

"Mhm. I don't take kindly to someone holding out on me. Especially when I've been so kind and generous. That won't happen again, though."

"Do you need Corazon to keep an eye on the kid?"

"Tch. It won't be an issue. Just as long as it doesn't get in the way of our business, I don't care what it gets up to... Ugh, but I'm going to hear it cry at some point today. Have someone get it some food."

"Understood, sir."

Backing up once you hear the sound of heavy footsteps, you meander to your shelf. Tugging a worn book from it - a collection of fairytales dad let you get when he looked at you - you hurry to your bed, jumping to get onto it without a hitch. Swallowing harshly you open it to a page with a family of rabbits stealing food from a mean old farmer's garden.

You like these stories, very much. But the pages are falling out, and you can't ask for a new one right now.

Just when you're absorbed enough to where the lump in your throat is gone, there's a knock at the door.

"Got your lunch, kid." That's not Uncle Rossi or dad. The door opens a crack and a bowl is haphazardly dropped on the small table. "We're landing soon. Be on your best behavior."

"... Thank you," You manage, the door slamming your reply.

Putting the book down you slide out of bed, going to receive the meal. It's a lobster risotto, dad's favorite. Tears well up again as you take the bowl back to your bed to eat and read. Dad doesn't care that you do so, you've been told, but you're still careful.

"... Foam Town. Okay." You mutter, something lighting up in your chest.

... This time, it's different.

#cw abuse #cw child abuse #anime #my writing #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #one piece #onepiece #one piece x reader

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kamiversee · 2 days ago

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Everyone please treat Kami with respect she is a normal human being like you so think twice before doing and saying anything rash…. Istg people have no shame

This. & I’m leaving this as my last post about the drama, state of the world, & or anything else that has nothing to do with jjk, my fics, or my blog.

I’m tired guys. I’ve BEEN tired.

Writing keeps me going more than you guys know because I don’t only write smut/erotica. I have other projects I work on in my free time — writing & being an author is an escape for me.

I have a life outside of tumblr. A family that gives me just as much stress as literally anything else on this God forsaken planet. My soul is exhausted & I am drained—I always have been. Writing/tumblr & my friends are literally what keeps me going because I find so much joy in those two things. Three days in a row I have logged onto this fuckass app & dealt with some ignorant comments or just blatant hate & this is my last time telling y’all that I’m SO tired of it.

I appreciate the support & love I’ve been given thus far & my heart goes out to all those out there, genuinely. 💗💗

If anyone else has anything negative to say to me I won’t even respond to it anymore; leave me the fuck alone. Let me write what tf I wanna write. Let me live while I actually still can.

& if you voted for Trump or you support trump—kindly get the fuck off of my page, thank you.

#kamiversee!answers #kami!yaps #p.s. I see all of ur messgaes in my inbox & I stand with you guys #I just don’t want to fill my page up with drama or politics anymore because its alr all over my tiktok & insta #im trying to escape here on tumblr for just a sec but you mfs are making it reeeeally difficult.#Love all my freinds supporters & fans tho 💗💗#you guys are the best :3

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paintednailsandsoftdetails · 17 hours ago

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911, a confession

Let me start by saying that I don't really know what I'm doing here, so bear with me. If I actually go through with posting this, and you find yourself tagged and wondering who I am and why, or even if you happen upon it in the tags, I hope you take a minute to read this.

You don't know me, but you've been my community for a while now. I've checked your blogs daily for years, I've read your posts and loved your art and sent you countless anonymous asks to pick your brains- never hate though, because I'm not a Freak.

What I am, however, is a lonely lesbian with depression and (newly diagnosed) OCD, who has always needed some hyperfixation media/fandom to find life bearable. For some ~fun context, I was Raised by the glee fandom, I will die on the hill that watching queer as folk when I was 14 and discovering its fans 10+ years after airing made me who I am, I've got the most bizarrely timed stint in the 1D fandom under my belt, and I find nothing in the world more interesting and also affirming than Queer Reading (verb) media- to the extent that I earned an English degree and wrote a thesis specifically about it.

I haven't posted on here in 1.5 years, since I fell out of my previous fandom (apologies to anyone from said fandom who still happens to follow me and is seeing this, feel free to move along.) But I've been on this app every day since, because of 911.

(starting the read more here to spare you- again especially if you are tagged, I know you're probably feeling miserable rn but I do hope the entirety of this love letter reaches you)

I started "watching" mid season 5- by which I mean I was in a deep depressive state after disconnecting with previous media hyperfixation and, when I happened upon 911 trending while in need of distraction, I quickly fell down a rabbit hole. Tale as old as time, tumblr dot com convinces you that you need to tune into *insert media here* bc its fun and there are gay people! I caught myself up through all the big blogs and by the time May Day was airing I felt like I had a decent grasp on all the lore, all the fandom drama, all the places the writers were "definitely, so brilliantly" going to be taking the show that we had to look forward to, all without ever having actually seen an episode of the show (before you boo me, yes I've watched it by now, even season 1)

But I think it is important, and also a little messed up, that I fell in love with 911 through YOU, through the fans. Obviously watching the show initially through the lens of fan reactions first and not whats actually happening on screen can have some... interesting results. We've heard it all before, with the people who started watching specifically for Buddie around season 4/5 because they saw The Will and by the time they caught themselves up and watched the end of season 6 they wanted their refunds.

Here is where I want to make a clarification- the reason I got so interested, why I started coming back every day to check in on tags and certain favorite blogs I didn't even follow bc I was denying the want to become fully Involved, was because I fell in love with Evan Buckley. I won't lie, it was Buddie that caught my attention first- of course, thats what everyone here was talking about- and as much as I quickly started discover the value of the show outside of them (Henren my absolute Beloveds!!!!! Captain Dad Bobby Nash you are so special to ME. Chimney man of all time i can keep going) none of it was enough initially to bite the bullet and catch up on 5 seasons worth of a show I also knew would have elements I WASNT interested in (Copaganda and Taylor Kelly I am looking at you.)

But then I started really getting into fan's readings of Buck *insert footage of me learning the Buck Begins of it all for the first time* as a character separate from Eddie (as much as people were capable of anyway, and I will say some of yall continue to be absolutely atrocious at it) and I knew I was done for. Buck, this character so full of goodness, and his need to be Found but to also Find his own family and purpose and sense of self, for whom the show's thesis statement concerns the act of working to Make the kind of Love you want to have in this world, even if you were raised without a blueprint for it- I'm sorry but what else were me and my gay ass queer reading inclined hyperfixated brain to do other than take Evan Buckley into the folds and never let him go?

I love Buck. I was convinced by the time the s5 finale was airing before I had actually watched the show that Buck had to be bi. Even if they never did a thing with it you couldn't convince me otherwise and I was also confident that Oliver was portraying him with a similar mindset. I never wavered in that interpretation, even when the utter disappointment of the s6 finale and the failure to do anything truly meaningful character development wise through the lightning strike-Natalia speed run hit, and certainly not as I got fully caught up actually watching the show outside of tumblr live reactions during episode airings. I'll admit I was pretty ready to Check Out after the end of season 6, to the point where I hardly checked in on fandom at all going into 7 until the rumblings of possible canon Bi Buck reached me and I doubled back like "hold on, for real this time?" But when I say Check Out, I mean I was ready to walk away from the hyperfixation with a joint lack of satisfaction with canon & firm conviction that Buck was queer.

Things with Eddie are a lil different- and I want to try and keep this bit brief bc this is ultimately a post about Buck and Bucktommy and I have no interest in unsettling those of you who may have a queer reading connection to Eddie as real as the one I feel for Buck, but unfortunately this conversation cannot exist separately from the Eddie/Buddie of it all- I personally don't think Eddie is queer. I don't really think I ever did, even when I was in the thick of it with falling for Buddie. I know me saying this would cause certain audience to pelt me with accusations of fetishizing Buck or treating Eddie as nothing more than a vehicle for Queer Buck via Buddie- false! I actually think Eddie is an incredibly fascinating character, a deeply compelling representation of grief and fatherhood and masculinity, and also a hilariously weird lil bitch guy. I just don't feel like- especially having removed fanon glasses while actually starting to watch the show, and taking the time to acknowledge that the things about Buddie that appealed to me on a romantic level (this is NOT about their friendship which i stand by being beautiful and important) all boiled down elements I was reading within and onto BUCK specifically, not Eddie. Perhaps an impossible concept for some, the idea that Bi Buck could feel so real and apparent to me primarily divorced from the idea that Eddie had to be queer as well, but I won't bore you with my explanations for it, though I suspect the people tagged and still reading by this point know exactly what I am talking about.

All of this potentially obnoxious prologue to say, I've spent the last however many months falling in love with canon Bi Buck *insert footage of me speed running back into my daily fandom involvement/blog check ins the moment I knew Buck kissed a man*, with Bucktommy, and with Bucktommy fans.

For a long while there I had resigned myself to an odd, though perhaps not as unique as I thought, reality of loving and fully believing in Queer Buck, not necessarily feeling the same about Eddie or Buddie, but also in full agreement with many that already 6 seasons in with literally nothing else having remotely worked, Buddie would be the only satisfying conclusion for Buck's love story. This is again not exactly how I felt about Eddie- but a big part of that for me is that I don't think Eddie's primarily story in 911 is a love story. He's the vessel for telling other important, beautiful stories about fatherhood and forgiveness and that is OKAY bc not every characters story is a love story!!! Evan Buckley's is though (Despite some very weird and confusing things mr stark has just said about his character that actively contradict what hes previously said and what audiences have been looking at and for this entire time, but I digress)

But then! By whatever happy accident we want to call it 911 had Tommy Kinard fall back into its lap as the solution to what felt like the impossible: They found the ONE way they could introduce a non Eddie Diaz love interest for Buck that COULD be satisfying for Bucks story. Someone with connections to the 118 and the shows history and potential for further development within main storylines as his job directly pertains to their plots. Someone with such compelling connections for interweaving these two characters that it got us- including the showrunner- talking about the Red String of Fate. That it got some of the beloved tumblr pals I had been watching for years, who NEVER would have believed they'd ever root for a Buck endgame that wasnt Buddie doing exactly that, and with joy, love, and conviction. Again I'll ask, what else were me and my Buck loving brain to do but take Bucktommy into the folds and never let go? (apparently I hadn't considered that there was apparently horrifying alternative- more on that next!)

As you all damn well know, falling in love with Bucktommy has not come without its trails. I have never seen things in fandom as vile as the things I've seen go down here. And as I mentioned before, I've been IN IT with yall for a while, even if you didnt know it. I was here, lurking, and I know this fandom has had its highlight reels of racism and misogyny and harassment (despite certain factions current batshit consensus that things were "never bad" before *gasp* a couple of people, some over the ancient age *double gasp* of 30 heard about bucktommy through tumblr the same damn way the 90% of you who havent been watching since season 1 heard about buddie and decided to invest)

What happened tonight made me cry, for about 40 minutes straight. And yeah, its been a devastating week for us all for a lot of reasons. On top of the ~national dread (I'm a lesbian in the US btw) today was my 7th out of 9 straight days of open to close shifts in a demanding retail/management position, and I have a head cold so maybe this was just a Breaking Point after a whole lotta shit.

But also, maybe, it was really fucking shitty to watch this play out. I've already seen countless people say it better than I could. Yeah, its a tv show. It's a fictional ship. But its also escapism, a spot of joy many of us were extra dependent on this week. It was something GOOD, queer representation and a love story on national tv days after a horrifying reality set in for queer people, and we are allowed to acknowledge how much losing that sucks just on a general level for a second...

Second over, now lets talk not on the general level. Lets talk about how I've watched real human beings get harassed, sent death threats, be told they are faking cancer and failing to properly grieve dead loved ones, I've watched deeply homphobic language be adopted and incorporated into everyday use despite constant correction and pleas from queer men to knock it the hell off, I've watched homophia as a whole run rampant and unchecked by big blogs, with some biphobia to boot, I've seen some images of horrific anti gay violence and historical trauma invoked as a way to make fun of others, I've seen lesbianism slandered and proffered as an excuse for such vile behavior in a disgusting erasure of the beautiful solidarity that has historically existed between gay men and lesbians in the face of homophobia, and yes, I've seen graphic descriptions of child rape via targeted fanfiction attacks.

Again, others have already said it better than I can: This isn't about Bucktommy. It's about the way that everyone who was Pulling for them as a couple, who DARED to *checks scribble on hand* enjoy a canon queer mlm couple featuring a character (or two) they've grown to care deeply for, has been subjected to all the above mentioned and more, and for...what. For. What.

In the name of a fanon couple that has not been legitimized by the writers in 7 years? of a fanon character interpretation of a canonically straight man (not just assumed straight, verbally assigned straight now on multiple occasions) that people cannot fathom perceiving this show, let alone liking these characters, without? For the version of this story that, if the writers REALLY wanted to happen could have happened so many fucking times by now- especially when the show was coming to what might have been its end in s6- and still hasn't? A version that has been dismissed multiple times by the writers cast crew and every other unfortunate individual who has been harassed repeatedly about it?

And I'm not here to say Buddie is inherently bad!!!! It brought me into this same as the rest of you. I don't even believe it would necessarily be a bad or wrong conclusion for either character or the show were it to eventually, finally happen!! But for the love of god, hear me when i say from the outsider pov of someone who has experience the show in the way I did first through fandom then stepping back to watch for real and now watching it with my mother who is a near Exact representation of the general audience of this show (experienced Procedural watcher, no idea about Buddie or fandom interpretation, had no sense of gay eddie to speak of, and is not shocked but pleasantly surprised by and endeared by Bi Buck) you are SEVERELY deluded if you think what happened tonight by breaking up Bucktommy "makes sense" to any audience outside of buddies who've been writing manifestos for years about how every single thing in this show is "carefully, intentionally, clearly" leading to Buddie canon. I swear to you the people at home do not fucking see it. The people at home saw Buck in a nice, developing relationship that finally seemed to be going somewhere real for him after discovering an important part of his identity late in life, and then they saw that relationship abruptly ended and Buck heartbroken, going to sit with his best, still straight, bud Eddie Diaz. The ONLY people this makes sense for are the people who I am afraid it seems may have legimately bullied this into happening.

And if that is the case? We are sooo far fucking past the point of no return here. There is no true satisfaction in a Buddie canon endgame here for anyone who's lived through the past half a year in this fandom unless you were a perpetrator of any of the horrific shit mentioned above. I mean that with my whole fucking chest. If, and i do think it is a Big Fucking Fat if, Buddie does happen, and you find yourself no qualms happy and satisfied with it as your well earned endgame, I hope you know how rotted you are. And while I'm at it, I hope some way some how you come to see that this was not the carefully crafted beautifully developed loved story of all time you were gods bravest soldier in waiting for. Its just what left after years of meandering storytelling and cyclical character "development" with a bow slapped on top at the last moment because the gift giver was afraid you might kill them if they presented less.

Anyway. I said a million words ago that this was a love letter, and I do mean that. As much as its also been an mental health exercise for me to write this all out. So,

@kinardbuckleys @bucksboobs @kirkaut @tevankinkley @userautumn @sunglassesmish @tommyscurls @ohithankyou @buckxtommy @princessfbi @bigfootsmom @firewasabeast

(And so many other people I'm surely forgetting, and the few artists and writters on other platforms I dared to venture to- maybe never opening twitter again after this xoxo)

Thank you. You don't know me, I never quite got over the anxiety of trying to re-enter a fandom space after a time away, or maybe some of the imposter syndrome or embarrassment I felt accidentally falling in love with this show and Buck by just watching you all talk about him before anything else. But for the last few months, some of you years, you've been my community, my escape. I've loved watching your brains and your hearts work to discuss and create, even amidst the absolute shittiest fandom behavior Ive ever seen. And I am as grateful for getting to experience it from a far as I am devastated at the thought of losing it, of not individually typing in all your blog names (I was too anxious to even FOLLOW you guys truly rip) to see what new content or spec or art or love you had to share about Buck / Bucktommy every day.

In another life- one where idk perhaps people were kinder or showrunners weren't bullied and actors weren't dropped last minute after months of torment and a satisfying canon queer love story for a character who genuinely needs it could just Be in peace- I would have loved to one day put on my big girl pants (aka saved Buck url) joined the fandom for real. To have directly talked to any of you in a way that wasnt... this.

I would have loved to love Bucktommy with you.

#if any of you actually read this i am kissing you directly on the forehead #and if you didnt I am wishing you find some escapist joy outside all this #bucktommy #911 abc #911 spoilers #buddie #evan buckley #yes i am tagging all of it lmao I have SPARED a lot of you by never joining this fandom and saying the shit ive wanted to say so youll deal #with this one time and i honestly hope it reaches outside who its really intended for #tommy kinard #tevan #please let a buddie read it and get pissy see if i care #maybe the last time i used tumblr too since i don't ever want to go through this again lol

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hairdryerbath · 3 days ago

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FIGHT LIKE HELL

I don’t care where you live. I don’t care if you’re in the USA or not. I don’t care if you’re eligible to vote. If Trump wins, there is a high likeliness of shit going down. It doesn’t matter where you are; the dominos will fall. All it takes is one push.

Gay people, transgender people, ANYONE who isn’t a straight, white, cisgender male is IN DANGER. It doesn’t matter if you’re closeted, it doesn’t matter if you’re voting for Trump because you’re “one of the good ones,” YOU ARE IN DANGER.

And you can cry. You can let tears fall from your eyes if he wins, and you or your loved ones are suddenly in a dangerous situation. You are allowed to be sad. But you need to be mad.

We have been fighting for decades for our rights, and we will fight more. If you can’t do this, I encourage you to flee America if you live there, or if possible, move to a heavy blue state like California or New York.

But I want you to stay. Because there are so many people who can’t leave. People who are trapped in this shithole. That includes me, my friends, and my family. My family has been living in Ohio and North Carolina for generations and we are not going anywhere. So I beg you: stay here.

WE STAND TOGETHER TODAY, OR STAND ALONE TOMORROW.

Don’t let them split us up. They want us to fight. They want us to get into discourse about xenogenders and neopronouns. They want us to vote for Trump because we’re one of the good ones. They want us to be too intimidated to vote. They want us to stay in the closet. DON’T LET THEM HAVE WHAT THEY WANT.

Be loud and be proud. Make your voice heard and let them know that we aren’t going down without a fight. That you are gay, or a woman, or transgender, or a person of color, and that you are a human who will have their human rights even if they have to claw it out of the president’s hands. I don’t think there’s ever been a better time to quote the Hunger Games:

FIRE IS CATCHING. AND IF WE BURN, THEY BURN WITH US.

Stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. FIGHT LIKE HELL. They can hang us in the streets, but not without a fucking fight. If you go down, take one with you. It doesn’t matter where you end up in the end: FIGHT. LIKE. HELL.

Don’t be compliant. Don’t let them arrest you and kill you because you think if you go willingly, they’ll spare you. DON’T GO DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT. FIGHT WITH ALL THAT YOU HAVE.

I want to see you punch them. I want to see you resist arrest. I don’t care if you’re the twiggiest twink of Tumblr, I want to see you biting and clawing. Get acrylic nails, and remember: Thumb out for punching, thumb in for stabbing. Bruises will heal, punctured eyes won’t.

Because remember: If we all go down with a fight, the world will see. Because the world’s eyes are watching. If we sit here and let them hang us in the streets, the world will do nothing. But if we fight. like. HELL. The world will see. And the world will act.

When you fight them, they’ll fight back. The world will see.

When you scream that you have done nothing but exist as they drag you away, they will try to shut you up. The world will see.

The world is watching, and the only way to get people to act, is through their hearts. So FIGHT. LIKE. HELL. Because the world will see.

And remember: It’s totally legal to acquire a gun in the United States of America as of me typing this. Stay strapped because the police are too. Don’t bring your fists to a gun fight.

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cbrownjc · 3 days ago

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The sad thing is? I predicted this.

Yeah, so I've been gone from Tumblr for a while, I know. I had my major surgery back in the second week of October and have been home recuperating for two weeks now.

But I wanted to come on here tonight to vent a little about the presidential election.

Because even though there was a part of me that dared to hope even just a little, I KNEW this was going to happen. And I called it the minute Joe Biden was forced to drop out of the race, back in July.

This is the text message exchange I had with my sister the day he announced he was dropping out:

And let me make this clear: I'm a born and raised California native. I voted for Kamala Harris for both DA and Senate. I voted for her and very much wanted her to win.

But I know this damn country. I saw how Obama was treated and the freakout and build-up of white supremacy after he won twice. That's why 45 got in in the first place.

And as I said in the text to my sister? Never in the 4 other times that Democrats have replaced a candidate this late in the process has that candidate won. Ever. Only those who've never studied political history thought doing such a thing would actually work.

Anyone who called for Biden to drop out? Congrats, you fell for the most obvious Chaos OP EVER.

I don't usually talk politics on Tumblr. I save that for Twitter. But now that Apartied Clyde has taken it over and this mess has happened, I plan to delete my Twitter account by the end of the week. The only reason I'm not doing it sooner is so that those who only follow me there can catch me before I delete it.

Anyway, I can't even cry or be sad about this. I already went through that stuff when Biden dropped out. I'm just kinda numb. And tired. And disgusted. But, at least thanks to my dad, I feel like I very much saw this coming thanks to his lessons on this country and race/racism. He and my mother both lived through Jim Crow and so yeah, they knew.

"This is not who we are" some are saying.

Yes, it damn well IS who we are. And it's who we've always been. I can give you a history lesson, and I'm not just talking about slavery, civil rights, and the 19th Amendment. I'm talking about Lee Atwater, Nixon, and the Southern Strategy. All that has happened between 2016 and now is a full culmination of that.

A majority of white Americans would rather destroy the American Republic than share equal power with black people. (With misogyny and misogyny thrown in there as well.) I wish I could be surprised by that, but I sadly am not.

And this tweet pretty much sums up my feelings regarding what's next:

I'm still healing from my surgery. Once that's done and I am 100%, it's about me and my loved ones now, protecting the few remaining ones I have left. (I am SO thankful that none of my close family or still-close friends voted for that man . . . but then, the majority of them are black women too, so . . .)

Because this country has pretty much shown black people that we are hated -- and always will be on our own.

Everything my parents and grandparents fought for regarding Civil Rights will be gone now. The only thing I can be thankful for is that none of them are alive anymore to see this.

I NEVER thought I'd live to see the end of the republic but here we are. And done by people willfully voting to give it up because, as I said back in July, a majority of white people in this country would rather destroy the country than share power with black people.

#politcs #2024 election #race #racism #I'm so glad I had my surgery early #but now I've got some other things to figure out.#because get ready for the ACA Medicare and Medicaid to all be gone #Social Security too #oh and if your college loans were forgiven? Ha!#that shit is coming back #(thank goodness I didn't have any student loans at least)#But now I have to figure some other things out

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kazoosandfannypacks · 1 day ago

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summary: ezra bridger has been following online microcelebrity spectre_pheonix for years. although her online identity is shrouded in mystery, he may be closer to her than he realizes. word count: 7309 (7974 counting alt text) co-authorship note: the video game sequences featured in this fic were written by my co-author, shadow-ninja-13, who also helped me figure out a few plot things and what video games to include where. he's also my teenage brother, known by some on this site as skyguy, and he's the coolest kid on the planet!a/n: After so, so, so much time working on this fic and talking it up IT'S FINALLY FINISHED!!! Shoutout to my tumblr follows for helping me out with a couple ideas in this fic! Some of this fic is told in embedded images. I have added alt text, so it should be accessible via screenreader as well. I can probably make a pdf copy of a full plaintext version of the story available if anyone needs it! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader@accidental-spice@kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse@dootchster @lucasbridger@redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech @jedimandalorian@notanodinarygirl {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

need a player 2?

No, that definitely sounded insincere.

Ezra backspaced the message he'd typed into the livestream chat, then typed something else.

Duh. Too obvious. Try again.

Perfect.

Ezra hit the send button and waited for a response. It was very rare that spectre_pheonix responded to any of the hundreds of thousands of comments she'd get on her streams, but that didn't stop Ezra from hoping.

Ezra watched as the player found the Warthog, and perfectly drove, splattering the Aliens that got in her way. Nearby there was a small opening, he watched the player take the truck through, by driving on the stone wall. If she flipped, it’d be all over. If not, she’d be more awesome than usual. The landing was about to happen, the anxiety was building, and then… a hand got in between him and the phone, blocking his view entirely.

"Hey," Ezra said, pulling his headphone off of one ear so he could yell at his roommate, whose hand covered his phone.

"Hey yourself," Jai said, "we gotta get going; we're gonna be late."

Ezra hadn't looked at a clock since the stream had started, which was apparently three hours ago. Somehow it was already fifteen minutes before the dining hall stopped serving dinner, and it was at least a ten minute walk down that way.

"Shoot," Ezra sprang to his feet, "I must've lost track of time again."

"Because you were watching that gamer girl?" Jai asked, leaning on the doorframe.

"Maybe," Ezra said, as he reached for the nearest matching pair of shoes he could stuff his feet into.

"What's so interesting about watching someone game, anyways?" Jai asked.

"I think it's about loyalty now more than anything," Ezra said, "I've been watching her stream since before she became popular. It just wouldn't be right if I didn't watch her gaming sessions, especially when it's a game I love. Besides, she just has this way about her. She's so cool, so collected, so…."

"....hot?" Jai attempted to finish for him with a smile.

"I wouldn't know," Ezra said, "she's very good about keeping her personal life personal. I've never seen her face. No one has."

"So she's a mystery girl."

"She's just like any other celebrity," Ezra defended.

"So you mean she'd be way out of your league even if you knew who she was?" Jai asked.

"More like I haven't even considered it," Ezra said, "I'm one of millions of fans."

"Isn't her follower count only…"

"Enough talking," Ezra said, pulling Jai out the door of their dorm room, "I heard a rumor it's pizza night in the dining hall."

And with that, both boys were off on a new quest: Obtain Pizza.

💜.🎮.🧡

"I wonder how they'd react if they knew who was in the room with them," Sabine thought, sitting alone with her sketchbook in a corner of her college's student center.

Across the room, a group of boys were having a heated discussion over their game of Smash Bros. She didn't try to eavesdrop, but she'd always been aware of the world around her, and definitely heard the words "spectre" "phoenix" and "most influential gamer of our generation."

"You must be trippin'," one of them said, "her 'let's plays' are nothing more than a halfhearted follower grab."

"Oh, like you'd know," another said, "your youtube channel has, what, seventeen followers? Oh, and you just came in last place, again."

Sabine looked back up at their game to see that the fourth-place gamer had been playing as Bowser, then watched Diddy Kong deal a crippling blow on Captain Falcon.

Then, she glanced at the players, all of them laughing and roasting each other. One wore a t-shirt that said "official spectre spectator," and another had a hat on backwards with spectre_pheonix's logo on it. Sabine would recognize that merch anywhere— after all, she was the one who designed it— as merch for her own shop, and she couldn't say she was disappointed by how much praise its wearers spoke of her with.

"If only they knew who I was," Sabine thought, but she quickly reminded herself she was glad they didn't. Though she was thankful for her followers and their merch money paying her tuition, she wasn't prepared to have toxic dudebros hounding her everywhere she went. And once word got out at college that she was spectre_pheonix, there would go any sense of normalcy she had. Besides, if word about it slipped back home to her parents, she'd be deeper trouble than she already was.

So before she could do something regrettable and talk to them, she packed up her stuff and moved to a different study spot.

💜.🎮.🧡

The Flood surrounded her. In an unexpected turn of events, the creepiest enemy in the entire Halo saga had been introduced. She fired her assault rifle at the hoards of Flood crawling on the ground. The salvo was effective, but costly. She had forty rounds plus one full clip, but that wouldn’t be enough. As she walked the character up some stairs, she found allies, and promptly borrowed their ammo. At the end of the swamp, she encountered the monitor, and watched the cutscene at the end of 343 Guilty Spark.

"Sorry guys, gotta stop the stream for the night," Sabine said, "it's well past midnight here, and I've got an eight a.m. class."

She watched the comment section flare up with responses.

💜.🎮.🧡

Ezra stumbled into class a couple minutes late, but he was sure his professor would understand. It wasn't his fault that spectre_pheonix had been streaming late last night, right? As long as he quietly slipped into the back of the classroom, no one would notice anyways.

"Mr. Bridger," Professor Syndulla called to him as he tried in vain to hide his late entry, "so glad you've decided to join us this morning."

Ezra turned around and tried to hide his guilty expression.

"Of course, ma'am," Ezra said, with a dramatic salute, "I'd never miss out on one of my favorite teacher's classes."

"Flattery gets you nowhere in my class," the professor said, "take a seat, and we'll continue."

"Yes ma'am," Ezra said. He took a seat as close to the back of the room as he could and pulled out his laptop to take notes.

Ezra tried his best to pay attention, but the lack of sleep was getting the better of him as Professor Syndulla's lesson dragged on.

"Maybe I could get dad to sit in on class and take notes for me sometime," Ezra thought, "he could listen to her talk for hours."

It was, admittedly, a little weird that his adoptive father was dating his psychology professor, but at least her letter of recommendation helped him get into this school— on the condition that he "applied himself diligently to his studies" and didn't "discredit her influence by trying to coast on it" and all that other stuff they'd told him when she'd suggested he attend Atollon Alliance University.

"But I'm definitely not 'diligently applying myself' if I fall asleep in class," Ezra thought, the notes document before him blurring before his eyes, "and I need to do something to stay awake."

So, he turned to the one thing he'd never be able to sleep through— one of the many videos in his "watch later" tab on youtube. After double checking to make sure his laptop's sound was off and muted— you could never be too careful— he clicked a video titled "spectre_pehonix's top FIFTY EPIC saves!!!" and watched along as he listened to Professor Syndulla's lesson, finding that all that boring stuff about psychology was a lot more interesting when he also had spectre_phonix’s abilities with some grenades against Wraiths, Hunters, and Banshees to focus on.

💜.🎮.🧡

Class wasn't the only time Ezra used gaming videos to focus. He'd never been one for focusing on one task at a time, and usually found that if he sat down to study, he'd end up pulling out his phone and watching videos on YouTube anyways, and that it was better in the long run to start out with some gaming recap video in the background�� except on days when spectre_pheonix was streaming during his study sessions, of course, and he'd watch it live, streaming Twitch in one window on his computer and whatever essay he was nearing the deadline on in the other.

Today, for example, he had her stream of Halo in the background of a rousing essay of the themes and morals of The Octopus.

The clock was ticking. 4:23 seconds left to go. The clock only counted down. She drove the Warthog through the groups of retreating Aliens and Flood. 4:07 seconds left to go by this point. She was told to stop, but she knew that that evac point wouldn’t help her. She’d played before, and she knew that the evacuation Pelican was shot down. She kept on driving. At max speed she used an odd floor detailing as a ramp, and jumped a whole group. The stress and tension of the final level made normal players stressed, but not Sabine. 2:25 left on the clock. The point was only about one kilometer away. She kept going, and going, and going. Nothing could stop her now. 1:22 left on the clock, she was within one kilometer away. She would make it! Unless she flipped by mistake. :44 seconds and counting! She saw the Pelican, and started running. She could take the Warthog no farther. She jumped in the Pelican at the last second. Barely beating Halo: Combat Evolved.

"It's like my teacher always says," spectre_pheonix said, "when things are at their worst, I feel like I'm at my best."

Ezra had only been half focusing, but this statement warranted his full attention. It wasn't as though the statement was profound or original— in fact, he'd heard it before. Abandoning his book report for the moment, Ezra expanded the Twitch tab across his whole screen, and ran it back ten seconds, thinking maybe his brain was playing some cruel trick on him.

"When things are at their worst, I feel like I'm at my best."

"That's exactly what Professor Syndulla said in psych class today." Ezra thought, "Is spectre_pheonix in my psychology class? Does she go to Attalon Alliance University too? No, that's crazy. Isn't it?"

His thoughts soon became a cluttered and jumbled mess, so he pulled out a notebook, flipped to random blank page, and after forty-seven minutes had constructed a list that looked something like this:

His results were inconclusive, but he suddenly remembered the book report due in less than an hour, and the two-thousand seventy-three words short he was from the word count.

💜.🎮.🧡

The last decade or so had gone pretty much exactly as Hera had planned. After realizing how important it was to her to help guide young people to their place in the world, she'd set her sights on a philosophy PHD so she could teach at Attalon Alliance University. She'd graduated with honors, and soon began teaching, and it was just as fulfilling as she'd planned it would be.

But what she hadn't considered in her plans was falling in love. When she was in college, she'd been too focused on her studies, and later on her duties as an RA in her dorm, to even consider pursuing a relationship, and by then, well, she figured there weren't a lot of single men in their late twenties interested in dating philosophy professors, so she poured herself into her work instead, and building good connections with her students as much as she could.

But, apparently, she hadn't been entirely correct in her assessment of her prospects. There was, apparently, at least one single man in his late twenties interested in dating philosophy professors— a man by the name of Kanan Jarrus, one who'd figured there weren't a lot of single women in their late twenties interested in dating the kind of guy who'd adopted an eight year old at the age of twenty-one and now had a sixteen year-old son who spent most of his time either playing video games or watching other people play them.

Hera had met Kanan in a chance run-in at a Wisconsin cheese festival, and though there was no denying the spark between them, it took a couple more chance run-ins before she'd agreed to a date. Their relationship progressed slowly, with Hera's career and Kanan's delicate balance of providing for and raising his son, but they'd had more time to see each other over the past year, since his son had enrolled at Attalon Alliance University.

"Morning, Professor Syndulla," Ezra grinned, walking into class one morning.

Though all of Hera's students may as well have been her children, she had a special fondness for that one— and took extra caution to make sure she didn't give him special treatment. Though he hadn't fathered Ezra, Kanan's influence on his life was evident through his actions. Ezra shared a lot of mannerisms with his dad, including an answer or an excuse always at the ready, and a charming smile he seemed to think would absolve himself of guilt. However, there were a lot of qualities they didn't share, and one of them was Ezra's propensity to be late.

It was this propensity for lateness that made Hera do a double-take. Class wouldn't start for another five minutes, and Ezra was here, in class, early.

"Good morning, Mr. Bridger," Hera said, "is there any particular reason you've shown up on time this morning?"

"Maybe I'm finally taking this whole 'education' thing seriously?" Ezra suggested.

"Mhmm," Hera nodded, "and maybe a certain gamer wasn't streaming last night."

"Well, there's that too," Ezra rolled his eyes and headed for his usual seat, towards the back of the classroom.

She watched as the rest of the students made their way into the classroom, and another one caught her attention, and not just because of her brightly colored hair.

"Miss Wren," Hera said, "I enjoyed reading your paper last night."

"Thanks, Professor Syndulla."

That was the entirety of their interaction, but Hera could tell by the smile on her student's face that she had taken it to heart. One time during Sabine Wren's first semester, Professor Syndulla had complimented something she said in class, and from the expression on her face, Hera could tell that kind of positive affirmation was foreign to Sabine— and she made it her personal mission to make sure it wasn't foreign to her anymore. Though their conversations rarely went further than a compliment on the student's hard work and a thank you for the professor, Hera could tell that Sabine appreciated it, in her own way.

💜.🎮.🧡

Ezra had had his own reasons for coming into class on time, and not just to improve his education. He hadn't abandoned his spectre search (or "wild ghost chase," as Jai had called it when Ezra explained it to him,) and his biggest evidence pointed to this class. Maybe if he actually showed up on time, he could get to know his classmates well enough to find out if one of them was her. Instead of listening to her in his headphones as their professor taught, he listened for her in his classroom as their professor took the students' questions, which didn't increase his focus on the lesson at all, but it did give him something to do in class other than watch YouTube recaps and pretend to be taking notes, so it was a nice change of pace.

After class, he hung around a little longer than normal, standing by one of the classroom doorways to see what he could overhear.

When only a few students remained in the classroom, Professor Syndulla approached him.

"Alright, Bridger," she said, "what's your angle?"

"Angle?" Ezra asked, "why do you assume I have 'an angle?'"

"You came to class five minutes early, and instead of making a break for the door as soon as possible, you're hanging around after class is dismissed. Pardon me for being suspicious."

Ezra didn't respond.

"If there's ever anything you want to talk about, I'm here," she said.

"Look, it's nothing," Ezra said, "don't worry about it."

Ezra decided to turn heel and leave before his dad's girlfriend started psychoanalyzing him again.

What Ezra hadn't counted on was someone else walking through the doorway at the same time, and him running into her.

"Watch where you're going," she grumbled, as a textbook and a few notebooks fell out of her arms.

Ezra had seen this kind of scene in movies before, so he figured he may as well pick up the textbooks for her.

"I'm so sorry," he said, crouching down and grabbing the books off the floor, "I didn't…"

She sighed. "It's alright."

Her voice almost seemed familiar— no, it did seem familiar.

"Here you go," Ezra said, getting up and handing her the books, "I, uh…."

He stumbled over his words, because not only did he recognize her voice as one of his favorites in the world, but when he looked up at her face, he saw rich brown eyes, and hair the same color as spectre_pheonix's logo.

"You're good," she smiled as she took the books from him.

"I, uh," he scratched his neck, "I like your hair."

"Nice shirt," she said, and winked as she walked away.

He looked back at her as she left, then back down at his shirt— his favorite shirt he'd ever gotten from his favorite streamer's online shop.

💜.🎮.🧡

Even when Sabine got back to her dorm room after class, the boy who'd bumped into her after class was still on her mind. There wasn't anything exceptional about him, but there was some kind of awe that sparkled across his blue eyes that almost made her feel special.

So, as soon as she got back to her dorm room, weird as it sounded, she decided to draw him— not his whole face, just those eyes that had been fixed on her, tucked between a shaggy crop of hair, and those mysterious scars underneath. It wasn't abnormal for her to draw inspiration from people she'd seen around campus like that.

She also could tell that he must've been a longtime fan of hers. She hadn't sold the "spectre spectator" shirt on her merch site for a couple years, but he had one, and he wore it proudly. She tried to remind herself that there was no way he could've known it was her; she'd been so careful not to leave a trace of her real self online.

Still, as she saw the awe on this fanboy's face, she wondered if that's how all her followers would respond to seeing her. Her follower count was just a number, but she wondered if that number was all awestruck and loyal followers like that one.

So, once she finished the sketch, she went to her Twitch profile. Six-hundred, seven-thousand and eighty-three followers. Six-hundred, seven-thousand and eighty-three people, people just like the one she met today, who appreciated her with an awestruck wonder.

She scrolled through the list of names, and noticed one near the top of the list— spectre_6, whose username she'd seen in the comments of many of her videos over the years. The notification said they were streaming Terraria, and, out of curiosity, she pulled up the stream and decided to check it out.

💜.🎮.🧡

It wasn't very often that Ezra found himself with free time. When he wasn't watching spectre_pheonix's livestreams, or doing homework, or attempting to do both at the same time, he was usually sleeping or hanging out with his friends.

However, today after class, he found himself with free time enough to do a little digging, and add a new page to his conspiracy:

It seemed like a good enough list for now, so he decided that, since spectre_pheonix wasn't streaming right now, he may as well pull up Terraria and do a little streaming of his own.

He was crawling through the pink blocks of his dungeon. Wielding his trusty Horseman’s Blade, he walked through the rough stones of this monster-ridden dungeon. He jumped down a shaft, relying on his jet pack to keep him from dying on the ground. He used the melee/range sword to promptly cut down a nearby Necromancer. He kept running through, and quickly slew several Blue Armored Bones.

Ezra heard the blip of activity in his comment section, and glanced at the sidebar on his screen. It wasn't unheard of for him to get comments on his streams, but it also wasn't very common either.

He glanced at the comment, then did a double take and a triple take. The color of the name was familiar. The username was familiar. There was a checkmark next to her name to show he was following her.

Ezra's heart skipped several beats, like when your teacher calls on you in class, but in a good way, like when you're prepared for it— but he wasn't prepared for this at all, no matter how much he'd dreamed it would happen.

Spectre_pheonix had commented on one of his livestreams.

"OH MY GOSH!" he yelled into the mic, not noticing The Paladin behind him until it was too late. Quite frankly, he didn't care that his “Incompetence was put on display by Paladin’s Hammer” because at least being dead gave him a chance to respond to her comment.

He tried to get back into his game, but couldn't focus, especially when she responded.

She didn't reply to that, and he wondered if she was still even watching. Rather than just check in a normal way, he instead blurted, "spectre_pheonix, if you're still watching, wanna do a collab sometime?"

He was mentally kicking himself in the shins for asking such a foolish question, but was excited when he saw a reply in the comments section:

💜.🎮.🧡

The past week had pretty much been the best week of Ezra's life. Spectre_pheonix rarely collabed with anyone, but the past week they'd joined in together for Minecraft, LEGO Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and Dust: An Elysian Tale, the latter of which, being single player, was just spectre_pheonix playing and spectre_6 giving commentary. Not only was this a dream come true, but it also boosted his meager follower count, and Jai had even stopped picking on him for his fantasy fanboying, instead jokingly referring to Ezra's collabs as "the closest thing he'd ever get to a date." Ezra didn't care.

He'd also been on the lookout more and more for that girl he'd run into, Sabine. Whether or not Sabine was spectre_pheonix, he had yet to decide on, but that didn't change the fact that she was still a pretty girl who'd smiled at him at least once, which definitely kept her in the forefront of Ezra's mind.

💜.🎮.🧡

Sabine rarely shared any information about herself online, but it was hard to plan collab information via Twitch, so she'd exchanged discord handles with spectre_6. Admittedly, he would've been as great a gamer as she was, if maybe he'd had a little more practice playing instead of just spectating. Still, collabs with him were enjoyable, and his sense of humor turned even Dark Souls into a hilarious adventure.

As she took notes on Professor Syndulla's class on her laptop, she kept discord open in a separate tab.

"Miss Wren?" Professor Syndulla asked, "is there something humorous about my lesson on how having traumatic experiences as a child inhibit our ability to make connections in the future?"

"No, ma'am," Sabine said. She hadn't realized how much of a mistake it would be to message spectre_6 in class until now. Usually, the people she'd chat with in class didn't have nearly as great a sense of humor as he did. Surely that was the only reason his conversations had her giggling in the middle of psych class.

💜.🎮.🧡

Ezra had done just enough research in class to find out everything he needed to know about Sabine. He'd positioned himself where he could see her, notice the deep gray of discord in the side corner of her computer next to the class notes. She typed in response to his messages. She laughed in response to his messages. When the teacher called her out for giggling in class, the same thing apparently happened to spectre_pheonix. She closed discord and payed attention in class at the same time spectre_pheonic did.

Ezra was convinced now more than ever: spectre_pheonix's real name was Sabine Wren, and she'd been in his psychology class this whole time.

She was a very private person, and someone finding out who she was definitely wasn't on her radar with how careful she'd been about personal details, so he knew if he brought it up, he'd have to breach the subject very, very carefully.

💜.🎮.🧡

"I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!"

Sabine looked up from her notebook with a start, intending to stick around after class so she could apologize to Professor Syndulla, not so that some random peer could slam his hands on her desk and yell ungrounded accusations at her.

But to her surprise, and in some ways her delight, the student she saw in front of her was the boy she'd bumped into last week, with the same soft blue eyes, the same dark, shaggy hair, and the same purple and orange shirt she'd once sold on her shop.

"What do you mean?" Sabine asked, beginning to pack up her things in an attempt to make a hasty exit.

His voice lowered. "I know you're spectre_pheonix."

She tried to keep a cool head, not to show her abject terror. She knew of a lot of bad things that had happened to celebrities when a crazed fan found them, and couldn't let this one know the truth.

"Who?" she asked, "I'm sorry, I, I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do," he said.

"What makes you so sure?" she asked, trying to stall just a moment as she quickly slung her backpack over her shoulder and turned to leave.

"Because I'm spectre_6."

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned back to look at him, sizing it all up in her mind. He'd clearly been a longtime fan of hers, just like spectre_6 had. Now that she thought about it, his voice sounded familiar, too. He'd also mentioned sitting in class, right when she was, and that the same thing had happened in his class that happened to her.

Still, she needed confirmation.

"What?"

"You started laughing in class today because of my joke about tax evasion," he said, "and then decided to 'sign off and lock in' so you could keep your grades up. Last night after you finished your collab with me, I messaged you a gif of Master Chief saluting and saying "goodnight," and you called me a total dork— that was a high honor, by the way. And then the day before that…"

"Okay, okay," she said, a little quieter, afraid of the few students still in the room overhearing, "I'm convinced. But how did you find out it was me?"

"You quoted Professor Syndulla in your stream a week and a half ago," he said, "and then you complimented my shirt last week, the same shirt I'm wearing now— and yes, I have washed it between then and now— and your hair matches your logo, and, I was watching you today in class— not, like, watching you, watching you. Like, not in a stalker way— oh kriff, am I a stalker? I am so sorry, that's really creepy now that I think about it. Anyways while I was hopefully maybe definitely not stalking you, I noticed that you reacted to every message I sent spectre_pheonix, and my suspicions were confirmed."

And Sabine's suspicions were confirmed when she heard him ramble, the same way spectre_6 always did when he was nervous in-game.

"Nice deduction, spectre_6," she said, feeling so much more comfortable now that she knew that this stranger was a friend she'd already met.

"Call me Ezra," he said, extending a hand to her, "Ezra Bridger."

"Sabine," she said, taking his hand and shaking it, "it's nice to finally meet you."

"You have no idea," he said.

💜.🎮.🧡

Being roommates with Ezra Bridger meant you had to be prepared for anything. Walking into the dorm room and thinking you're alone only to find your roommate under his desk, watching vines, and claiming both those things were for "emotional support." Listening to the most insane rumors and conspiracy theories about your teachers and classmates. Helping hide that stupid orange cat he'd smuggled in. Waking up at 2am to the beeping of a microwave and the smell of pizza rolls. All of this came with the territory, and Jai was professional in handling the insane force of nature that was Ezra Bridger.

But none of it could prepare him for what he saw when he walked into his dorm room one day after lunch and found Ezra cleaning. For someone whose laundry was piled higher than his loft bed, and who acted like he'd never seen a bottle of windex in his life, Ezra sure seemed to have purpose as he rushed around the room, putting away clean clothes while also tidying up the cluttered pile of papers and funko pops that he claimed were hiding a desk.

"May I ask what the occasion is?" Jai asked.

Ezra didn't even turn to look at him as his tornado of tidiness swept across the dorm room.

"Surprise."

"Surprise what?" Jai asked, "like, 'you can't tell me' surprise, or 'you wanted to surprise me by cleaning our room' surprise or 'your dad is coming for a surprise visit' surprise?"

"The first one," Ezra said.

"I'm not even gonna ask," Jai said.

"Good," Ezra said, "because you wouldn't believe me."

There were a lot of things Ezra could do that were unbelievable, but he was pretty sure just cleaning up the room was enough to suspend his standard of disbelief.

Jai sat down at his own desk and pulled out his laptop, figuring he may as well work on his history homework while he waited for the inevitable Bridger surprise.

About ten minutes later, Jai thought he heard a knock on the door, followed by Ezra yelling out "I'M COMING!" and bolting for the door, picking up the last bits of trash off the floor on his way.

Jai watched his roommate fumble to open the door with the trash still in his hand, then toss it into a corner where it wouldn't be seen and pull the door open.

"Sabine," Ezra said, "come on in."

"Alright," a girl's voice said.

A girl?

Ezra Bridger had never talked to a girl in person in all their time at Attalon Alliance University, so naturally Jai was surprised when a beautiful girl followed Ezra into their dorm room.

"Oh, Sabine," Ezra said, "this is my roommate, Jai."

"Nice to meet you," Sabine said, with a smile.

"Pardon the disbelief on my face," Jai said, "I didn't know Ezra even knew how to talk to girls who weren't on his computer."

Ezra looked a touch embarrassed, but his new friend spoke up for him, with half a giggle.

"We met through his computer," Sabine said, "he may have mentioned me. Spectre_pheonix?"

"You mean the Wild Ghost Chase wasn't just another ungrounded conspiracy theory?" Jai asked.

"Wild Ghost Chase?"

"It's called The Spectre Search," Ezra defended, "and yes, as I predicted, spectre_pheonix is, in fact, another student in my psych class."

"I came over to do a collab in person today," she said, "it's a lot better than trying to voice chat over Ezra's grainy mic setup."

"Hey!" Ezra said.

"She's got a point," Jai said, "and I guess my prediction was right too."

"What prediction?" Ezra asked.

"I told you if you ever met her she'd be way out of your league."

"Hey!" Ezra said again. "Don't you have a history report due?"

"Relax, I'm just messing with you," Jai said, "besides, this one's an easy A."

And with that, he turned back to his computer and let Ezra and Sabine have the illusion of privacy for their first in-person edition of "the closest thing Ezra would ever get to a date." Jai put on his headphones and went to his favorite research material: opening Spotify and resuming where he'd last left off in Hamilton: An All American Musical.

💜.🎮.🧡

It wasn't uncommon after that for them to stream in Ezra's dorm room, or in Sabine's when Jai was busy with homework he couldn't risk interruption in. This time was one of those days, because, as Jai cited, "Lin Manuel Miranda didn't write us a musical about algebra," so Ezra found himself on the floor in her room, leaning his back against her bed, while she sat on her bed, her legs dangling off the side next to him.

While they waited to connect on their college's laggy internet, Ezra filled the silence.

"So, how do you think you'll do on that psych test next week?"

"Not too bad, I hope," Sabine said, "you?"

"I just hope dad has room on the fridge for another D-," Ezra said.

"Maybe I can put in a good word with the professor for you," Sabine said, a bit of a laugh in her tone. "She and I have a fairly good rapport."

"If only you knew," Ezra thought.

"Unfortunately, this is one area where I think I do have you beat," Ezra said.

"Are you crazy?" Sabine asked, leaning over the edge of the bed so she could see if his expression was sarcastic, "she's clearly got it out for you. I've never seen her go so hard on any student."

"And why do you think that is?" Ezra asked.

"Because you don't apply yourself in any of your classes and she thinks you're wasting potential?"

"Well, yeah," Ezra said, "but I'm not the only one who does that, and she singles me out anyways."

"And why do you suppose that is?"

Ezra sighed. Professor Syndulla had never mentioned having a boyfriend, at least, not in any of the classes Ezra had been in, and if she had, no one besides Jai would've known it was Ezra's dad. It was a touchy subject for him, so he didn't bring it up much.

But somehow he could tell Sabine would understand.

"She's dating my dad," Ezra said.

"She— what?"

This wasn't normal information for students to know about their teachers, so he understood her confusion.

"How do you think I even got into this school, what, with my grades?" Ezra asked, "if not for her glowing letter of recommendation, I wouldn't even be here right now."

"So your dad is dating your professor so you can get into college?"

"What, no?" Ezra said, "They've been together for years, and I wasn't even thinking about college until long after they met. But dad always thought college would be good for me, and Professor Syndulla offered to help me get in and found me some scholarships."

"So our psych professor is hard on you because she's dating your dad?"

"Yeah, lots of psychology to unpack there." Ezra said.

"How do you feel about it all?"

Ezra paused. He hadn't answered that one honestly in a while, not even when his dad asked him last saturday.

"Do you really wanna know?" Ezra asked.

Sabine slid down off her mattress and sat down next to him, and her presence was already familiar enough to inspire honesty.

"Yeah," she said.

"It's weird," Ezra said, "I guess I never really grasped the idea of having a mom again."

After a moment of silence, Sabine asked another question. "Can I ask what happened to your mom?"

"The same thing that happened to my dad," Ezra said, "my real dad that is— I mean, my birth dad. I don't wanna say Kanan's not my real dad. He raised me for more than half my life, anyways, after my parents went on a missions' trip and never came back."

"Oh."

"It's alright," Ezra said, not letting her waste time on awkward sympathy. "No, no it's not, and to be honest it really sucks, but there's nothing any of us could've done to stop it. And Kanan, he was always there for me, even before my parents left."

Sabine didn't answer, but it felt nice to talk to her about it anyways, so he hoped she didn't mind that he continued.

"They're getting married," he said.

"What?"

"Professor Syndulla and my dad," Ezra said. "Well, she doesn't know it yet, and maybe she'll say no again, but I don't think so. Dad's proposing at dinner on Friday."

Sabine nodded again, clearly trying to process everything he'd said.

"I'm sorry," Ezra said, "I didn't mean to make this a pity party."

"Don't be," Sabine said, "this is what friends are for."

"Friends?" Ezra thought, with a smile. Two months ago he'd been her fan, and she hadn't even known he existed. And now they were friends? He could get used to this.

"But just so we're clear," Sabine said, "I don't pity you."

"What?"

"You have a dad who thinks the world of you," Sabine said, "and I'd kill to have a mom like Professor Syndulla."

"Why?" Ezra asked.

"Because I know what it's like to have a mom who's not like her," Sabine said, "a mom who's not proud of you. A mom who doesn't compliment the sketches you draw in the margins of your notes. A mom whose biggest dream is for you to drop out of your art major so you can join the family business instead."

"I, I'm sorry," Ezra said.

"I don't need your sympathies either," Sabine said.

"You're getting them anyways," Ezra said, "do you want to talk at all?" "What's there to say?" Sabine said, "that family business always came before family? That even my own brother thought it was more fun to game with his friends than his sister? That my parents wouldn't give a single dime for my tuition, and if it wasn't for my merch money and some massive scholarships I wouldn't even be here?"

Ezra put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, trying to find the words to say. Someone whose whole persona was built on a mask of online secrecy had just shared something so personal with him, and he didn't know what to say.

"Do you wanna come to dinner on Sunday?"

"What?" Sabine asked, apparently shocked out of her despair.

"I always go to my dad's for a family dinner on Sunday afternoon after church. Professor Syndulla does too. We're probably gonna be celebrating the engagement, and then she's gonna beat us in our weekly game of Ticket to Ride. It's incredibly boring, but if you wanna join us anyways…"

"I'll be there," Sabine said with a smile.

And instead of returning to her normal seat, she stayed next to Ezra as they remembered why they were there in the first place and began their game together.

💜.🎮.🧡

Sunday ended up being one of the most enjoyable days Sabine had had in a long time. She ended up tagging along with Ezra that morning when he went to church, so he wouldn't have to drive back to the school to pick her up. It was a new experience for her, but he didn't seem to mind. Afterwards, they went back to Ezra's dad's house— Ezra's house, technically— for a family dinner, along with Professor Syndulla, who was absolutely beaming as she showed off her engagement ring. Another one of Kanan's family friends, whom Ezra referred to as "Uncle Zeb," was there as well, along with the professor's cat, Chopper, who couldn't be trusted to stay at home alone for a whole afternoon without destroying the place. The game of Ticket to Ride that came out after dinner only had enough pieces for four players, but Ezra and Sabine teamed up so everyone could play— and even with their combined mental resources, they were still no match for Professor Syndulla.

As they drove back to school, Sabine reminded herself why Ezra had done this. Not a single person at that dinner was related to each other— and yet, they were family— and Ezra wanted Sabine to be part of it too.

Maybe this "friendship" thing wasn't so bad after all.

💜.🎮.🧡

Spectre_pheonix and spectre_6 had been doing collaborative streams for most of the past month. Her fans really enjoyed his commentary on her skills, often leaving comments about how well her dry wit complimented his whimsical sense of humor, and how well they worked together. Both of them gained more followers because of it, which Ezra thought was almost impossible, because how could there have been people on Twitch who weren't already following her?

"You ever read the comment section?" Ezra asked one day as they were playing Minecraft.

"Not often. Why?"

"Look at these," Ezra said, then read a few of them out loud.

"That last one is true, at least," Sabine said, and it would've been harsh if he hadn't seen the twinkle in her warm brown eyes.

"That last one was my roommate," Ezra said, glaring across the room at Jai, who smiled innocently.

"Oh, but this one isn't," Ezra said, reading off the latest comment:

He smiled at Sabine.

"That's a great question," Ezra said, into the mic so the commenter could hear. "Hey, spectre_pheonix, wanna go out on Friday?"

Sabine looked at him and smiled. "Sounds like a date," she said.

"Great," Ezra said, then turned back to his mic, unable to hold back an enormous grin as he said, "Yes, yes we are."

💜.🎮.🧡

By all accounts, it should've been weird for them to go out on a date instead of just hanging out and playing video games. It should've been weird when Ezra showed up at Sabine's door, wearing a nice button down shirt instead of her merch, holding a bouquet of purple and orange roses instead of his custom gaming controller. It should've been weird as they sat down to eat something nicer than dining hall pizza or a bag of doritos that ended up half-strewn across the dorm room floor as they blasted away at each other in Halo. It should've been weird when Ezra put on a playlist in the car of the cringiest but most endearing love songs she'd ever heard, and even more so when they found themselves singing along, and it should've been weird when Ezra put his arm around her during the movie and she leaned in closer, and it should've been weird when they walked out of the theater and he put his coat over her bare shoulders without her even needing to tell him she was cold. It should've been weird when, instead of ending the evening with, "so, Terraria tomorrow?" it ended with a couple "I had a great time"s and a delicate first kiss.

It should've been weird, but it wasn't. It wasn't weird at all that they had more in common than their love of video games. It wasn't weird at all that conversations with him came naturally and being in his presence felt like breathing. It wasn't weird at all that, as soon as she was alone, Sabine found herself leaning back against her dorm room door and sighing dramatically like the heroine of a cheesy romcom.

It wasn't weird at all. In fact, it was perfect.

#sabezra #the sabezra gamergirl au #sabine wren #ezra bridger #fanfic #sabezra fic #modern au #college au #gamergirl au #kanera #hera syndulla

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