#just one-off comments with no follow up or anything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marril96 · 3 days ago

Text

Just as Promised

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Agatha saving your life leads to a heart-to-heart.

A split second was all it took for your entire world to crumble down like a house of cards.

You and Agatha usually got along fine, but today, tensions were through the roof since the moment you opened your eyes.

You were sick of the cat and mouse games, sick of longing stares that led to nothing and comforting hands on shoulders and bodies brushing against one another, convenient accidents that were anything but.

You demanded an answer: did she want to be with you or not?

You weren't opposed to staying friends; having her in your life, even as a casual acquaintance, would have been more than enough. But you needed her to say it. If she didn't want to take whatever it was the two of you had going on further, so be it. All she needed to do was speak up.

Agatha being Agatha, she kept giving vague answers that eventually became jokes, until she straight up refused to speak at all. Furious, you started screaming at her. She retorted with sarcasm, which only made you angrier.

Today, of all days, being your trial didn't help matters.

You were distracted, unable to concentrate. Even with the help of the rest of the coven, your mind kept straying to Agatha and your undefined relationship. Her snippy comments didn't help the situation; if anything, they made it worse.

Alice, ever the peacemaker, kept trying to get the two of you to knock it off. Unsuccessfully so, for it was hard to lower the tensions when one side seemed intent on raising them by any means necessary.

Thankfully, you managed to find enough willpower to push through and successfully complete the trial.

The door of the house you were locked in opened.

And then the furniture and cutlery and various appliances started rattling and flying about as if they had a mind of their own. As if it wanted you and the coven out as soon as possible, or there would be hell to pay for overstaying your welcome.

Everyone rushed out, avoiding chairs and knives and random junk, hands covering their heads in protection.

You followed in kind, yelping as your foot got caught on a toaster and you fell down like a sack of potatoes. Shit. It was just your luck to trip and fall at the most inconvenient time.

What was next? Was an anvil going to drop on your head?

The thought hadn't fully left your head before you heard Agatha screaming your name. She shoved you, hard, to the left; it was going to leave a mark hours from now.

You didn't have time to process what had just happened when a chandelier smashed to the ground, right at the spot you'd occupied just a second before.

Right at the spot where Agatha now stood.

"No!" you screamed, stomach twisting into knots, heart soaring, booming in your chest like a bomb.

As if a switch inside of you had flipped, none of what had happened earlier mattered anymore. Agatha's refusal to tell you what she wanted, if she wanted you. Her constant snide remarks. The roll of her eyes and the mockery in her tone.

She could have slaughtered someone in front of you, and it wouldn't have mattered. You would have forgiven her.

So long as she was okay.

"Agatha!" you yelled, frantic. "Help! Help!"

Don't die, you pleaded. Begged. Demanded. Please, don't die. Please. You couldn't lose her now, just as the two of you had reconnected after years of being apart. You needed her in your life. You couldn't imagine your life without her.

Alice and Teen ran up to you, having heard your pleas amidst the ruckus of flying furniture and trash. It took a few tries, but, with joint effort and a little bit of magic, you managed to push the chandelier off Agatha.

She was on the ground, seemingly unharmed. Unconscious, but alive. Relief flooded you as you felt the pulse on her neck. She was okay. She was going to be okay.

The three of you held her up and got her out. You bared your magic, eyes glowing as you willed the flying items away from you. Sparks enveloping your hands as you blasted them away.

It was over. Finally, you could put the nightmare of your trial and that weird house behind.

Then the realization that Agatha wasn't waking up set in and you were back where you started; nervous, terrified, shaking like a leaf in fall wind.

It took some pleading and begging for Jen to agree to make a potion — much alike to the one she'd made for Teen when he'd gotten impaled by glass, with slight changes for, unlike his, Agatha's injuries were internal. Internal bleeding, concussion, something else, all of the above; you didn't know what was wrong, couldn't possibly make a guess, but you owed it to her to fix it.

The only reason she was in this predicament was that she was protecting you.

Once the potion was done, and, with help, ingested, you and the others found a comfortable, quiet spot for Agatha to rest. Her head was on your lap, her coat spread over her like a blanket, one of your hands gently stroking her head while the other held onto her hand. It was strange to see her so vulnerable, so fragile. As if one wrong move would break her. And to think it was all because of you…

Jen could accuse her of having no humanity all she wanted. Agatha had a soul. She had a heart. She cared. She loved. She felt. No different than anyone else. Just because she hid her true self better didn't mean she was heartless.

She was just scared.

From all she's told you of her life, starting from her early childhood, she had every right to be.

"She saved you," Teen said. The others had left to make a fire; he wanted to stick around.

"She did," you said. "She's saved me many times."

He nodded in acknowledgment. "People are saying all kinds of things about her."

"Don't believe everything you hear." Especially about Agatha. People loved making up stories about her. The worse the slander, the juicier the gossip.

"Can you tell me, then? The truth."

"It's not mine to tell "

You'd asked her once why she allowed people to say horrid things about her. Her response was pretty much, "Let them talk." It wasn't worth it to get worked up over it. Rumors would spread either way. She knew the truth, and so did you. That was all that mattered to her.

She didn't want you to get involved.

So, you didn't.

Her secrets were hers to reveal.

"I can tell you one thing," you said. "She isn't the monster they make her out to be. Don't get me wrong, she's far from an angel, but she's no monster, either. Keep that in mind the next time you hear some wild story."

To his credit, the kid took in every word. "I will."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, until he stood up to join the rest of the coven around the fire. "Take care of her."

"Of course."

It was a given, after everything she's done for you over the centuries.

After she'd pushed you out of the way and saved your life at the cost of her own.

The arguments the two of you had had throughout the day seemed silly now. Ridiculous. Completely and utterly unnecessary. What did it matter how your relationship was defined? She cared about you. She almost died for you. In her own wordless way, she loved you.

In the grand scheme of things, romance didn't matter.

Life wasn't a genie. There was no lamp to rub, no wishes to yell at the top of your lungs. You didn't always get what you wanted.

It would do you good to be happy with what you had.

A living friend was better than a dead lover.

Silence engulfed you like a blanket. You tuned out the cracking of the fire, the jokes and laughter of your coven. Useless background noise you neither had the strength nor willpower to entertain. Leaned against a tree, your eyes were on Agatha, safe and warm in your lap. She looked so peaceful. As if she were in deep slumber instead of rid of consciousness.

You should have been there when she'd gone up against Wanda Maximoff. You should have had her back. If you'd helped her, fought with her, maybe she wouldn't have been forced to lose three years of her life to a mind control spell.

She wouldn't have lost three years of her life to torture.

Because that was what that was. Wanda could have just let her be. She was powerless. She couldn't hurt anyone. Locking her inside her mind was cruelty for the sake of being cruel.

Why hadn't she asked you to go with her? Why hadn't she told you what she was planning?

Would it have done her any good?

You were with her now, and she'd almost died.

You'd let her down.

You would have let her down back then, too.

Tears pricked at your eyes like needles. Maybe that was why she didn't give you straight answers when you demanded she make a choice about your relationship. You were a sucky witch. Even now, sucked dry, powerless, Agatha was more powerful than you.

She'd been with Death herself, for fuck's sake. The woman had a type, and it wasn't lowly witches like you.

She was trying to let you down gently.

Tenderly, you stroked her hair and rubbed her shoulder. It's okay, you thought. I'm not mad. Reality was a bitch. That was just a fact. There was no use getting worked up over it. You would never reach the power level of someone like Rio. She liked them big and bad, and you were neither. You would always be neither.

You would always be a friend. Nothing less, and nothing more.

Agatha stirring shook you from your thoughts. A small moan escaped her mouth, one of pain, discomfort. She blinked, once, twice, three times, before her eyes settled on yours up above.

You smiled. "Hey, you. Welcome back."

"What happened?"

"You got crushed by a chandelier."

"Oh. Right." She sighed, nonchalant. As if that sort of thing happened every day.

"You probably shouldn't move much. Jen said it'll take a few hours for the potion to heal everything up."

Agatha grunted as she shifted to a more comfortable position. "That's just peachy."

A pang of guilt twisted in your heart. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Wasn't it? "It is, though. You saved me."

Agatha groaned. "Oh, don't get all sappy. It's a bad look."

For whom? For you, or for her?

Only one of you had a reputation to uphold.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Agatha, I'm serious. You saved my life."

"Consider it tit for tat, toots."

That was how the two of you had first met a couple centuries ago. You were hunting a witch hunter, and he was hunting her. You'd gotten to him just as he was about to put a bullet in her brain — from behind, covertly, of course, for hunters were nothing if not cowards.

Agatha was intrigued by your tenacity to make the predator into prey.

You were enthralled by her presence, itself.

She'd matched your freak, and you'd matched hers.

The rest was history.

You couldn't hold back a laugh. Expect her to crack jokes at most inconvenient times. Agatha laughed along, but her face instantly twisted and a hiss burst from her mouth.

"Hey, hey. Be careful," you told her.

"This is a drag," she said, frustrated. She hated being helpless. As if losing her power wasn't enough; now she could barely move without being in pain.

"Want me to move? Maybe you'll be more comfortable on the ground," you said.

"No," Agatha said before the final word was out of your mouth. "Stay. I'm good like this."

"Okay."

Whatever she wanted, she would get. You owed her that much after she'd saved your life. If that meant holding back the need to pee for hours so she could rest her head on your lap, so be it.

You were a grownass woman. You could do this.

"Sorry for being such a bitch today," you said. "It wasn't fair to put you on the spot like that."

Pressuring her into something she clearly wasn't comfortable with was wrong. If she wanted to be more than friends, she would've told you. She had a mouth, and she wasn't afraid to use it.

She was trying to let you down gently, and you'd escalated the situation.

Agatha sighed. "I was hoping that particular topic wouldn't come up."

"I'm sorry," you said, and you meant it. "I just thought we could talk about it now that we're alone."

"Thought you'd take advantage of me being unable to leave?"

You weren't sure how to read her tone. Your cheeks burned. "N-No, of course not. I-I just—"

"Relax, honey." She grinned. "I'm just pulling your leg."

You let out a breath of the kind of relief you'd never experienced before. Gritting your teeth, you slid an arm down Agatha's body and gently put pressure on her side.

A yelp much like that of a wounded puppy escaped her mouth.

You smirked. "That's what you get for being mean."

"Are you seriously gonna torture me when I can't even defend myself?"

No. You weren't Wanda.

"Totally. It's my entire goal in life," you snarked. Then, voice softening, "Did I hurt you bad?"

"You do know I'm not made of glass, right?"

"Just checking. You did get hurt because of me, after all." And you would never forget it. If, for no other reason, than to remind people that she wasn't the heartless bitch they all thought of her as.

"That's one way of putting it," Agatha said.

The other being that she had made a conscious choice to push you out of the way of that chandelier. She'd made a choice to get hurt.

She'd made a choice to protect you at the cost of herself.

"I really am sorry," you told her. "For everything. I'm happy with the way things are between us. Nothing needs to change."

Agatha sighed. "Y/N…"

"It's fine. Really." A tear slid down your cheek. You wiped it away like a speck of dust marring a spotless surface. Another followed suit, dripping onto Agatha's forehead.

She looked up, then, a painted grimace contorting her face, she moved sideways, just enough so her eyes could connect with yours and her hands could cup your cheeks from below. Her touch was tender, comforting; you leaned into it, closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, to bask in the sensation.

"You are, by far, one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me," she said with such intent, such fervor that could come from nothing but the absolute truth.

Your heart sped up, a marathon that was well on its way to kill you.

Were your ears fooling you? Did she really just say that?

Did she…?

She did.

Her eyes all but confirmed the words you couldn't believe had come out of her mouth.

Agatha Harkness didn't speak like that. She never said things like that, especially not to you.

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

Yet, somehow, it was. It could.

You took in a large breath to steady yourself. Don't freak out, you were telling yourself. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. This was a serious conversation. You couldn't afford to ruin it with childish antics. Goddamn it, Agatha!

Why did she have to spring it on you like that, as if it was the most casual thing in the world? As if speaking to you like that was an everyday occurrence.

In your daydreams, absolutely. In real life? You might as well have been dreaming.

Clearing your throat, in your most totally-not-falling-apart tone, you asked, "Why the runaround, then?"

A sad smile flickered on Agatha's mouth. A wordless admittance of defeat before the battle had even started. "I ruin everything I touch."

"That's not true!" You didn't let Jen talk shit about her in your presence, and you sure as hell weren't going to let her do that, either.

"Yes, it is," she insisted, relentless. Dead set on putting herself down, denying herself what she deserved for that was what everyone had done her entire life. "And I refuse to ruin you."

You, on the other hand, refused to let her ruin this. You refused to let her ruin the potential of something beautiful.

"Dunno if you've noticed, but I'm pretty much ruined all on my own." You'd killed, too. You'd ruined lives, manipulated, destroyed just as she had. She wasn't special.

And even if you were pure, if you were to turn back time and make your ledger white and untainted like it used to be, once upon a time, you would happily let her paint it red.

You would let her ruin you all over again.

Agatha was silent for a moment. Then, in her weakest, most vulnerable tone, she uttered, "You're still alive."

Her son. Taken from her too soon. Gone in the night without a goodbye. Destined to die before he'd even taken his first death. Living on borrowed time until it had expired just as suddenly as it had been gifted.

A fresh batch of tears poured from your eyes, spilling over her fingers. "Don't do that. Don't go there."

Agatha's eyes sparkled with tears of her own. "How can I not?"

"I won't leave you," you said, and you meant it. You meant every word, and more. "I won't die. Not anytime soon."

"You can't promise that."

"I can promise I'll do my best to try. Why is that not enough?"

You couldn't promise her forever — there was no such thing — but what you could promise was as close to that as was possible. Home. Shelter. Warmth. All in the shape of you. She would never have to be alone again. Centuries of not just friendship, but a partnership. Even closer than you were now.

All you needed was her permission.

All you needed was a yes.

"I can't lose yet another person I…"

Love.

Though she would never say it out loud, especially not around other people.

"Agatha," you said softly. Warmly. Lovingly. "I'm not going anywhere. That's one of the few things I can promise you. No matter what happens, I won't leave you, and I won't hurt you. Ever."

You never have, and you never would. You loved her too much to cause her harm. You cared about her too much to allow for anything of the sort to happen.

"We don't have to be together. I'm not trying to force you into anything you aren't comfortable with," you continued. "I just don't think it's fair that you're denying yourself good things in life based on a what if. You deserve for good things to happen to you. You deserve to be happy again."

It didn't have to be with you. She could look for happiness wherever she wanted. But she deserved it. You would be damned if you allowed her to take it away from herself.

Agatha gave a chuckle; a sad, broken one. "You're the only one who thinks so."

"Since when do you care what people think?"

She allowed them to think she murdered her own son, that she had traded him for a book of dark magic. She allowed them to think her heartless. Cruel. A monster. She allowed them to think the worst, and had never said a word to correct them. Had banned you from setting the record straight.

Why did it matter if they didn't think she deserved to be happy?

They were nothing.

She was everything.

"I don't," she agreed. "I care about what you think."

She took hold of one of your hands and brought it down to her mouth. Her lips pressed to your fingers, a soft, tender kiss that sent electric sparks through your entire body. Your eyes fell closed for a moment. You were lost in this little gesture; you could get lost in it forever.

Her lips were a welcome presence everywhere, on every part of your body. Whichever part of you she wanted to claim, she could. You were hers in any way she desired, spoils of a war you never fought. You surrendered willingly.

"Don't say that just because you think that's what I wanna hear," you said, just in case. Still in disbelief that this was happening, that she was so vulnerable, so exposed with you. That she wasn't scared that you were going to hurt her, or turn your back on her.

Agatha frowned. "When have you ever known me to do that?"

Fair point.

You smiled. "Just making sure."

"If I wasn't injured, I would kiss you silly for being such an idiot."

Your cheeks burned. "Is that a promise?"

"It's a threat," she clarified with a smirk.

"I hope you intend to make good on it."

"Oh, honey, I do. Trust me."

"I'm holding you to it."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

You pondered on it. "Well, there was that time back in—"

Agatha smacked your hand, prompting both of you to laugh.

"You're my pet now," she said.

You raised an eyebrow. "Pet? Really?"

"What? Did you have something else in mind?" she said with feigned ignorance, mouth pulled into a mocking pout.

"Well, I was thinking something more… equal." But you would take pet.

Pet was fine.

She pretended to think about it. "I suppose I could upgrade you to a girlfriend."

Girlfriend.

Your heart was in shambles. You, all of you, were in shambles. A wooden house barely holding itself together after a hurricane had passed through it, destroying everything in its path. One wrong move, or breath, or thought, and you would crumble

Girlfriend.

You repeated the word in your head, again and again, Agatha's voice an echo in the vast hallway that was your mind.

Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend.

This was real. It wasn't a hallucination, or a dream, or a cruel prank.

After a long, hard day of hissy fits and arguments, Agatha had finally told you what she wanted.

And it was you.

"I-I like that," you muttered, too stunned to say much else. Gods knew you wanted to say a lot, much more than your mouth could currently handle.

Agatha smirked, ever the tease. "You do, don't you?"

"Mmhm." You took her hands in yours and laid a kiss — two, three — to her knuckles, just as she had to yours. "Hurry up getting better. I want that threat-kiss."

"Oh, honey, you won't know what hit you."

"I better not."

"Are you doubting me?"

Never. "Just building anticipation."

Agatha licked her lips. "In that case, keep it up."

So, you did.

And, a couple hours later, she kissed you as if both your lives depended on it. As if you would die if your mouths were ever to part.

Just as promised.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @daddyriovidal @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @midnight-lestrange

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #aaa #agatha all along #marvel #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #my fics #edit

248 notes · View notes

cheolism · 1 day ago

Text

classroom etiquette

✰ — kim hongjoong x f!reader ✷ — summary: you and kim hongjoong are: members of the university english department; writing rivals; great enemies. and you meet in an abandoned classroom. ✰ — wc is approx. 2.5k ✷ — genre: rivals and lovers, smut ✰ — warnings: dom!hongjoong x sub!reader. degradation (brat, slut) and praise kinks, pet names (princess, good girl, etc.). slight exhibitionism. oral (m! receiving) and cum swallowing. dumbification of reader. ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: for @lovetaroandtaemin !! requested as part of my follower celebration! i hope this is what u wanted! ty for requesting <3 i can't wait to get to know you more <33

in short, yet again mr. kim has proved himself incapable of writing anything where a character has depth. he is so preoccupied with creating a story filled with dragons and intricate government systems that his characters fall remarkably behind. there is no substance to what he writes. he writes purely as an act of god: to create a world that inspires awe. he does not write for the art of it; for the humanity of it.

you grin to yourself, triumphant, as you publish the review to the lit magazine site. kim hongjoong's short story was littered with positive reviews, readers and fellow authors alike praising his elaborate world-building.

they weren't wrong to praise his world-building. you may not like the man and firmly believe he is a stain upon the university's english department, but you wouldn't lie and say he half-assed his world-building.

but, like you said: where he excelled in world-building building he failed in character-building.

each main character was like the next: brave and with a firm moral compass, a yearning to do the right thing. there was no depth. they felt as artificial as his nose ring, which you saw him pull off one time.

and yet, as you navigate to the home page of the literary magazine and look upon the monthly winners, as voted upon by fellow authors and readers, people just eat it up. they eager await everything kim hongjoong puts out.

as evidenced by the shining number one next to his story link.

with yours immediately beneath it.

well, you think to yourself, you did win last month.

still, you feel slighted; wronged. this month's work had been a masterpiece, in your opinion. a careful character study of a widow reminiscing of her life as she looks out the window, watching the sun rise and set and relating it to her life.

it was thoughtful. more importantly, it was human. it was everything kim hongjoong's story lacked.

your laptop chimes, breaking the near-silence of the lounge. you hurry to silence it, finger jamming on the mute button on your keyboard.

you got a new review on your story.

you click on it.

kim hongjoong (@no1likeme): another perfectly boring character study of someone the audience has no care for. every single word of this story reads as if someone was watching paint dry. no action. no plot. it's a poor imitation of a chekhov story, and a million times more boring. it's an insult to the genre. if i wanted to contemplate the meaning of life, i'd take a philosophy class. i wouldn't spend my precious time writing something as cheesy and trashy as this.

immediately, and predictably, you feel your temper rise.

who was he, you think, closing the screen of your laptop with a sharp movement, to judge your story?

just because he needed to fill his stories to the brim with gunfights and far-away dystopias didn't mean everyone else in the world was ignorant of the wisdom and humanity of character studies.

you shove your laptop into your bag, zipping it up angrily.

every story you put out, kim hongjoong leaves a comment on. it's like he's obsessed with you.

(nothing is to be said about the fact you wait for the moment he uploads a story to read it. you shimmer in your thoughts for a week, rereading and deciding the perfect way to weave your thoughts over his latest work. you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting a review immediately; wouldn't let him know that you were so eager to read what trash he put out.)

you stepped from the lounge, making your way down the metal staircase.

your work, you knew, was perfect. it was intricate and prompted thought.

just because he didn't understand --

you walked down two flights before stepping off of the staircase. hefting your backpack back onto your shoulder, from where it had been slipping, you make your way down the hall. the english building is nearly abandoned at this hour, a few students littering the hallways, cramming in assignments before they inevitably take the last bus back to their cramped apartment.

you go to the very last classroom on the third floor.

you switch on the lights for the front of the room, the section that is impossible to see by someone walking by and giving a cursory look through the door window.

you settle at the front of the room. the chairs are all on wheels for safety, and it slides gently as you recline into it. you pull out your laptop and boot it back up. kim hongjoong's review tauntingly stares at you.

you screenshot it and then add it to a folder labeled kim hongjoong reviews. there's 30 other reviews within, one for each story you've uploaded to the university literary magazine.

and kim hongjoong had to comment on each one of them.

he's obsessed.

the door to the classroom opens.

in steps kim hongjoong.

he is, naturally, fashionably dressed. black jeans and a black leather jacket, a striped cardigan udnerneath. hongjoong's wearing those stupid black-framed glasses of his, the ones that only seem to highlight the dark arches of his brows and show off his undercut. he's wearing his silver rings, of course, and when he lifts his hand to run his fingers through his black hair, you catch a glimpse of a brown leather watch.

hongjoong looks like he's walked out of a freshman student's fantasy concerning their literary teaching assistant.

you scoff at him. "if you gave your writing half as much attention as you did your clothes, you'd finally have something worth reading."

hongjoong scowls at you, eyes severe. "you really think you know everything, don't you?"

you smirk at him, looking back at your computer. hongjoong comes to the front of the room. he sets his leather back on the ground next to the leg of the table, beginning to pull at the sleeves of his leather jacket.

"leave it on," you demand.

he rolls his eyes. hongjoong continues to take off the leather jacket. beneath it is his striped cardigan, and it's horribly contrasting the undercut and overall sleek look he was going for.

you click your tongue. "shame. i would've said you looked hot had you left it on."

"you're such a fucking brat," hongjoong admonishes. he pulls at the armrests of the chair. it rolls easily in his grasp, and he twists it so you're craning your neck to look up at him.

hongjoong exudes power like this. staring down at you, eyes dark and serious. he's all dominance and imposing, and you can feel something twisting in your gut.

"am i?" you say, eyes glancing down at his mouth.

"you're fucking ridiculous," hongjoong scoffs. then he's swooping down and mashing his mouth against yours.

his hand finds the back of your neck, holding you firm. hongjoong's mouth is demanding, pressing against yours relentlessly, laying claim. he shoves his tongue in, dominant and not wasting a single moment.

hongjoong kisses passionately; he kisses like he's pressing forth all his anger and frustration with you.

you pull back, lips making a soft smacking noise as you separate. hongjoong's mouth is wet with spit from having stuck his tongue in your mouth, and you know your mouth isn't much better.

"seriously," you say, "you write like you're trying to fuck tolkien."

hongjoong gapes at you. and then, "get on your fucking knees, you chekhov-wannabe."

you pout for a moment, putting up a front.

then his hand is slipping up from your neck and into your hair. he guides you onto the floor, taking your spot on the chair.

the floor is cold as you kneel on it, the temperature seeping through the fabric of your jeans. you pay it no mind. instead you watch as hongjoong undoes his belt with a single hand, pushing down at his pants.

"you act like a little know-it-all," hongjoong murmurs. he pushes his jeans down to his ankles, sitting at the edge of the chair. his underwear, naturally, matches the rest of his outfit, black and tight around him.

"well," you say, looking at his bulge. you know hongjoong isn't particularly big, but you know how he fits so perfectly in your mouth. you've gotten wet more than a few times reading one of his stories, imagining him sitting down and writing, dick stuffed in your mouth. "i do know everything."

hongjoong takes out his dick. it's just — perfect. not too thick but still enough to stretch out your pussy deliciously, not too long to where it triggered your gag reflux when he kept it resting in your mouth. it isn't the prettiest dick you've sucked, but it's absolutely the best dick. it curves naturally towards him, ensuring he presses against your g-spot whenever he sticks it in your pussy.

it's just —

you never thought yourself particularly wanton; particularly vulgar or sexual. but fuck, hongjoong's dick —

he runs his hand over his dick. it's flushed from erection, and you watch, transfixed, as he delicately fingers his head and rubs his thumb against the slit, the angle of his hand showing off the watch on his wrist.

"what a little slut," hongjoong laughs. "running your mouth until you get a dick in your face. is that how i gotta shut you up? just get my dick out?"

you flick your eyes up at him. you can feel blood flush to your cheeks. it always feels demeaning to be on your knees in front of hongjoong, letting him bully you.

but you can't deny how drenched his bullying makes your cunt; how it always makes your pussy throb, desperate for him. and you just fucking love playing into it, especially when you know how fucking hard it makes him.

hongjoong slides his fist down his dick, settling it around the root of it. he presses his thumb against the head, pulling back his foreskin. "well? come on, princess. wanted a dick in your mouth so bad, didn't you?"

horribly obedient, you shuffle forward. you place your hands on his knees. hongjoong chuckles, raising his brows over the rim of his glasses. "should make you do it without your hands."

you pout up at him. "joong. . ."

"don't worry princess," he says. "not this time. but —"

you whine.

"don't be a baby," hongjoong admonishes you, though he's lost that severe look. instead he's grinning, pleased with how cock-stupid you are. "i know you just run your mouth and act out because you want my cock in your cunt. say it, baby. say you're sorry for acting out; that you want my dick."

you whine again, nails gently scraping against his thighs. it's always embarrassing how he makes you say such things. it's mortifying how they make your panties stick to your cunt with juices.

"what was it you said? 'no substance to what he writes?'"

"'m sorry," you whimper out. you settle, resting your chin on his knee. you peer up at him, pushing stray strands of hair from your face. "just wanted you, joong."

hongjoong hums, his hand once again delicately moving up his dick. "pretty shitty apology. but i guess it'll do for now."

hongjoong spread out his knees, tilting his dick towards you.

eagerly, like a puppy given the signal to pursue a treat, you lurch forward for his cock.

hongjoong held his dick still for you to press your lips to the tip. immediately you are met with the bitter taste of his precum, the taste of his skin. you slowly, gently, began to lower your mouth around the head of his dick.

"that's a good girl," hongjoong hisses out, hips lightly canting into your mouth. "such a good girl."

you can't help but preen under his praise. this part, where he rambles about how good you are, how you're a princess, you adore too. you love how the words make you heart and pussy flutter, how they smooth the sharp sting of his bullying tongue.

hongjoong glides his dick into your mouth slowly. he savors in the sweet glide of it, in his dick sliding along your tongue, your spit coating it.

you love the weight of his cock in your mouth. whenever his dick is in your mouth you can feel it dull down the sharp edges of your mind. your being becomes centered around his dick, how it feels against your tongue, how little pearls of precum mixes with your spit.

you're usually not crude, but fuck if hongjoong's dick in your mouth isn't the best part of your week.

hongjoong doesn't make you to take his entire dick. he isn't in a particularly mean mood, then. instead he slides his dick until the tip of it is on the back of your tongue, knowing just how much of it you can take after who knows how many sessions you've spent with his dick in your mouth.

"swallow," he commands. you swallow, mouth constricting around his cock. "good girl. good, princess."

one of his hands went to your hair. he guided your head back, his dick sliding around your tongue. drool fell from your mouth as hongjoong withdrew his dick, and you couldn't help but look down and watch his dick, how your spit glistens along his dick.

"good," he says, and then he's fucking back into your mouth.

hongjoong fucks your mouth slowly, his hips gently rolling into your mouth. he fucks your mouth like he's making love to it. endless praise pours from his mouth. "perfect," he sighs, "perfect fucking slutty little princess.

"gonna swallow?" he slows his thrusts even more, languid, biting down on his lip. his glasses have slid down his nose, bangs in his eyes. "gonna swallow my cum, princess?"

you nod, and he groans.

you shift forward. you move your hands up his thighs and slide them around the base of his dick, rising to your knees. hongjoong moves both his hands to your hair, fingernails scraping against your scalp.

you place your lips against the tip of his dick. slowly you take it back into your mouth. hongjoong's grip on your hair tightens as you take his dick further and further into your mouth. you go until the tip of it is hitting the back of your mouth, and then you still.

hongjoong's dick twitches in your mouth.

the need to please him endures, and so you begin fucking his dick with your mouth. you pull off of his dick until it's just your lips wrapped around his tip. then back down to the tip you go, swallowing once your lips are snug around his base. you begin to shallowly bob around his dick, hongjoong's pants, quiet and sweet, coupled with the slick sounds of your mouth around his dick.

when he cums, you can't help but choke. this part of giving head always catches you off guard, no matter how many times you swallow around his dick. you sputter around his cock, only pulling off once you begin to cough.

"good," he murmurs, voice tight. he cradles your face, his hand going to wipe at the cum that splattered on your chin. "good girl."

#ksmutsociety #cromernet #✏️ — writing #⏳ — jupiter's ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fic #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong fic #ateez oneshot #kim hongjoong oneshot #🪩 — 5k

85 notes · View notes

hlficlibrary · 2 days ago

Text

HL FIC LIBRARY ☕ Coffee Shop Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

☕ I’d Still Dance With You by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo {M, 57k}

“Liam, if you met someone that you really liked, would age matter?” Louis asked. “I suppose so; to a point, anyway.” “Like, how young would you go?” Liam thought it over. “Uh… I don’t know. Like, 24?” Louis groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “Why? How old is this guy you like?” “Twenty-one,” Louis muttered. “Hang on. He’s 21, and you’re… what? Twenty-eight?” “Yeah.” “Wow. Um… well, OK. That’s a, uh, that’s a gap.”

Or, the 21/28 age difference fic where Harry is younger than Louis thought he was, and even though Louis’ head is telling him not to pursue anything, his heart doesn’t seem to agree.

☕ I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours {T, 34k}

Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype.

It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words...and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.

☕ love drunk, waiting on a miracle by @hellolovers13 {E, 30k}

Christmas inspired Coffeshop AU

Harry has a bit of a crush on a customer. Thankfully, the feeling is mutual.

These are their first 24 days together.

☕ And That’s The Tea by @2tiedships2 {M, 27k}

I’d like an Earl Grey with milk and sugar, please.

Louis had the phrase memorized, even though it had disappeared off its place on his upper arm over thirteen years ago now.

At fourteen he didn’t understand. Soulmarks don’t just disappear. Not unless…

Unless one of them dies.

Or, the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be.

☕ Friday I'm in Love by @perfectdagger {M, 25k}

It has a pattern, Harry has noticed.It’s not that he has been observing the guy who regularly comes to the coffee shop for the past few weeks; but he totally has.It’s also not Harry’s fault that he’s infatuated with the guy who apparently follows a very repetitive schedule.

Or the one where Harry works at the coffee shop and Louis goes there almost every day and Harry is head over heels for him, making his love life look like a The Cure song.

Inspired by Friday I’m in Love by The Cure (obviously).

☕ From The Heart (series) by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 24k}

Every Tuesday, Louis spends his day off holed up in his favorite coffee-come-bookshop, writing his little stories as part of the WordPlay challenge while daydreaming about the resident barista, Harry. Each week a new word prompt is revealed and Louis adds to his series of short stories about Henry, the owner of a B&B in the Cotswolds who has curly hair and dimples, Lewis, his long term guest who just happens to be a writer, and Tigger, Henry’s cat.

As Louis and Harry’s friendship develops, could his fantasy world spill out into real life? And how does that reader who leaves the lovely comments with the teacup emoji seem to be able to read Louis’ mind?

☕ ever since new york by @sunflower-live / sunflower_live {NR, 22k}

Louis works at a coffee shop in NYC and he pines endlessly after the boy who lives above it.

☕ blend into my favourite colour by rainbowninja167 / @rainbowtitania {T, 19k}

Harry often wonders if they’ll ever meet in real life. And if Harry will recognize Tommo the instant they see each other, like somehow their souls will just know. Or maybe Harry’s soul is shouting “Louis!” too loudly for any other signals to go through.

Harry is a barista with a secret Werewolf High fan blog, a desperate crush on a customer named Louis, and a best friend on Tumblr who always makes him laugh. Louis can't figure out why the barista at his favorite coffee shop keeps creepily staring at him, and to make matters worse, he may be slightly in love with a friend he met online.

A love square involving two boys, one TV fandom, and one food fight.

☕ The Importance of being Earnest by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 {NR, 16k}

Harry cannot help but pay extra attention to Louis' order, even if it is just a warm cup of tea with a dash of milk and no sugar. He also makes sure that the Danish Louis asks for is warm and fresh from the oven and not the one in the display, even if it means delaying Louis a bit when he fetches said Danish from the kitchen. It's all worth it when Louis smiles his crinkly smile at him before he rushes off to work.

Man, he's hot, he cannot help but think.

Or Harry is a barista who's been harboring a crush on Louis for months. Little does he know that Louis actually likes him back.

☕ Before We Ever Wrote a Song by @casuallyhl {E, 13k}

Harry just can't be around Louis when he's flirting outrageously with Chad Michael Murray. So what if he's the star of one of the country's most popular shows? Harry's seen an episode or two and it's not that great. Sure, the drama is exciting and all the actors are attractive and it’s shot in his hometown, but still. Not that great. Certainly not great enough for Louis to fall over himself every time Chad enters the coffee shop.

Harry doesn’t want to watch the over-the-top spectacle, which is why he usually retreats.

And besides, it hurts to see the boy he’s in love with flirting with someone else.

Or, Harry and Louis work in a coffeehouse on a film studios lot, and Harry wishes Louis would pay half as much attention to him as he does the famous actors.

☕ A Love Stronger Than Espresso by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix {G, 12k}

Louis is entirely dependent on caramel mocha in the mornings, but soon he finds that there's one thing at the coffee shop he needs more than coffee - a cute barista named Harry.

aka: The one where Harry is a cute barista guy and Louis plays hard to get by using a different name to order coffee each day

☕ John Doe by FitzAndLarry {G, 12k}

John Doe I don't even know you, but I know fo' sho' That you are beautiful, so baby let me know Your name Damn what's his name?

xxx

There's a boy taking the stand at the open mic night where Harry works as a barista, and he's going to find out the boy's name if it's the last thing he does.

An ode to Never Shout Never, and a story about finding a new home.

☕ Coming Home Through the Dark to You by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 6k}

Harry Styles works at the Fox in the Snow, the most hipster coffee joint around. He's got too many roommates and a best friend he met his first day of university who he might very well be head-over-heels for.

☕ ‘Sup by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics {G, 6k}

Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results.

Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him.

ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.

☕ Time Of The Season by alienharry {NR, 6k}

When writer's block stands in the way of Harry completing his second novel, he turns to the sweet-smelling omega behind the counter of his new favorite coffee shop for inspiration.

☕ I Kinda Need A Hero (Is It You) by @fallinglikethis {NR, 5k}

Louis is a barista who’s had his heart broken. Harry is the boy who wants to put the pieces back together.

☕ That's Not My Name by @lululawrence {NR, 3k}

He froze for a second, because he hadn’t expected to be hit with such an intense gaze. Green eyes beneath a beanie and loads of curly hair made Louis miss a beat before coming back to himself.

“Uh, hi. Sorry. Can I take your order?”

The boy (man?) gave a shy smile and said, “Just a caramel macchiato, please. Grande.” Louis nodded as he scribbled onto the cup and punched it into the register.

As the boy held his phone to the machine to pay, Louis asked, “Name please?”

“Oh, uh, Marcus.”

Louis scribbled Marcus on the cup and handed it off, but not before giving the boy a smile and nodding over to where he’d be able to pick up his drink. Louis watched him a bit longer than he probably should have, then forced himself to move on.

Or the one where the cute boy coming into the coffee shop gives Louis a different name every time...for over a month.

☕ A Cuppa Courage by @juliusschmidt {G, 3k}

Liam kicks Harry's shin, picking up another cup to fill. “He seems like he’d be a good catch, if you liked guys, I mean.”

I do like guys, Harry does not say, even though he’d like to shout it at the top of his lungs. I DO LIKE GUYS.

[a fluffy lil' fall coffee shop coming out au.]

☕ cursing the cosmos by 5sexualhomos / @hogwartzlou {NR, 3k}

In a world where people have timers counting down to when they meet their soulmate, finding love is easy. Harry meets Louis in a coffee shop one day. They slowly fall in love, the only thing holding them back is that they aren't soulmates.

☕ baby baby, you're a caramel macchiato by @missandrogyny {T, 3k}

So, yeah, Harry doesn't think it's that far of a stretch to call himself a good barista. There are some particularly bad ones, and some particularly good ones, and, with his work ethic, his skill, and his charm, he'd probably be lumped in with the latter group.

☕ tell me what you need by @disgruntledkittenface {G, 2k}

“And a fresh cherry?” he asks, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. He waits as Louis stares him down, his brow furrowing.“No? What the fuck,” Louis rasps, looking bewildered.

coffeeshop AU based on this iconic prompt:

harry: can i please get a semi-iced half caramel half vanilla decaf latte with no foam using fresh almond milk with a small swirl of whipped cream covered in a pinch of cinnamon and a fresh cherry? louis: ...no? what the fuck

41 notes · View notes

cheynovak · 2 days ago

Text

Spikes

Summary: Y/N, a 16-year-old punk-loving girl, rushes to the Beach City Grill every day after school to see Priestly, the edgy and cool guy with a spiky mohawk and piercings, whom she's secretly in love with.

Warning: None, Priestly is just a nice guy to a love sick teenage puppy.

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Share/Comments are appreciated.

Y/N hated her school uniform. Every morning felt like a betrayal, pulling on the pleated skirt and stiff blazer that made her feel like a cookie-cutter version of everyone else. She missed her ripped jeans, band tees, and spiked accessories that were as much a part of her as her love for punk and metal.

As soon as the final bell rang each day, she was free—well, not totally. The uniform stayed on, but it didn’t matter. Y/N would ditch the blazer, roll up her sleeves, and sprint across town to the Beach City Grill. It wasn’t just for the sandwiches.

It was Priestly

Priestly was a walking work of art. His hair, styled into a spiky mohawk with streaks of bright red and electric blue, stood out as sharp as his personality. His face was pierced—nose ring, lip ring, and a few studs along his ears. He had these intense green eyes that seemed to look right through people, but his easy smile softened the edge. His sideburns connected to a perfectly sculpted goatee, and he always rocked some version of graphic shirt like he wore today.

Priestly wasn’t just some regular hot guy. He was cool unapologetically himself, and completely untouchable. Older, maybe by a few years, but Y/N didn’t care. She had it bad.

Every day, she’d walk in, heart racing, pretending like she wasn’t already imagining what his voice would sound like saying her name. She’d order the same thing—a soda or a milkshake if she was feeling daring—and linger by the counter, just long enough to catch his eye.

Today was no different. As she pushed through the door, the bell above jingling, she spotted Priestly leaning against the counter, fiddling with one of his bracelets. Her stomach did a weird flip-flop.

“Hey, Priestly,” she greeted, trying to sound casual.

“Y/N!” He gave her a grin that made her insides feel like melted vinyl. “Right on time, as always.”

She leaned against the counter, pretending to look at the menu even though she had it memorized. “Yeah, uh, can’t stay away from this place.”

She wasn’t sure if she meant the grill or him, but Priestly didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

She look at his wrist noticing the new jewellery. “that bracelet’s awesome."

Priestly glanced down and chuckled. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve had this one forever."

Y/N felt her pulse quicken. “I love it. Way cooler than this stupid uniform I’m stuck in every day.” She glanced down at the school-issued shirt in disgust. Then, without thinking, she reached up to finger her necklace—a black choker covered in metal spikes, one of the few remnants of her true style that hadn’t been completely stripped away by the school’s dress code.

Priestly’s eyes followed the movement, and his lips quirked into an appreciative smile. “Your necklace is badass, though. Spikes are killer.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. He liked it! Without thinking, she tugged the choker off and handed it to him. “You can have it,” she said quickly. “The principal’s been threatening to confiscate it if I wear it one more time. Might as well give it to someone who’ll appreciate it.”

Priestly blinked, taken aback, then grinned as he took the necklace from her. “Thanks, Y/N. Seriously. This is rad.” He looked at her like she was more than just the kid who showed up every day at his counter. “Here, let’s swap.”

Before she could protest, he unclasped his leather band and held it out. “I don’t think they can say anything about this at school, right?”

Her heart hammered in her chest as she reached out to take the bracelet. “I—uh—thanks.” She slid it onto her wrist, feeling the worn leather warm against her skin. It was a perfect fit. She was sure her face was burning, but she didn’t care. She had something of his now. Something real.

The silence between them stretched for a moment, comfortable but thick with something unsaid. Then Priestly tilted his head, his eyes studying her face more closely than they ever had before. “Y’know, Y/N, you come in here every day after school. Don’t you have, like, a club or friends to hang out with?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her face flushing even redder. “Uh, I just like the food here. And, um, you guys are just awesome to hang out with.”

Priestly raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but not in a mean way. “Just the food, huh?” He leaned forward on the counter, closer than usual, his voice gentle but knowing. “You’re a sweet girl, Y/N. But... I’ve gotta ask—why do you really come in every day?”

Her throat tightened. Oh, God. He knew. She fumbled for words, her heart pounding, but nothing coherent came out. All she managed was, “I, um... you... I'm s-sorry.”

Priestly smiled, and it wasn’t teasing. It was soft, almost apologetic. “Hey, it’s cool. I think you’re awesome, really. But... you’re still kinda young, y’know?”

Y/N’s face burned with embarrassment, but she nodded quickly, unable to meet his eyes. She knew. Of course, she knew. She was sixteen, still stuck in high school, and Priestly was already in his late twenties. There was no way he’d ever see her like that.

Still, her heart sank as Priestly gently patted her hand. “Maybe in a few years, yeah?” he said with a wink, trying to lighten the mood. “Who knows?”

Y/N couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept across her face. “Yeah... maybe.”

With the leather band secure on her wrist, she knew she’d remember this moment forever. At least Priestly didn't saw her as a freak like all those highschool boys.

Taglist -> Click here to add

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @ferrersbiggestfan @spxideyver @kamisobsessed @deans-queen @yvonneeeee @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @deansimpalababy @yvonneeeee @stoneyggirl2

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #priestly x reader #boaz priestly #boaz

26 notes · View notes

planetpedri · 1 day ago

Note

Hi! Would it be possible to request fluff with Cole Palmer, like a lazy morning in bed when he doesn't have training and then getting up to make breakfast together? I love your work sm

Mornings like this — Cole Palmer.

Pairing: Cole Palmer x Fem!Reader

Summary: You loved when Cole didn’t have training. It meant you got to have a normal day together, doing normal things like cook breakfast together without needing to rush.

Word count: 620+

Disclaimer/s: Fluffy + banter !

A/N: I’m finally going through my reqs heyyy

Sun seeping through your curtains had to be the most annoying thing. On Cole’s rare day off, you two liked to sleep in, but the sun had a vendetta against you, clearly. Your boyfriend shifted behind you with a groan, nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck.

“How many times do I have to beg you to get blackout curtains?” He grumbles, his voice raspy with sleep.

A small breath of laughter escapes your lips. “Baby, if you want them so bad, you can buy them.”

Cole’s eyes fluttered open, an amused grin on his lips when his eyes met yours. “Fine. Today, we go get them today.”

Shuffling around to face him, you nod in agreement. “Breakfast first though. Are we in the mood for anything specific? I would kill for Belgian waffles.”

“Do we have flour?” Cole quirks an eyebrow, “because if we do, then we can make some, but I want bacon.”

“Bacon and waffles is an odd combo, but i’m so down.” You sit up, stretching your arms and back. “Okay, I need to go to the bathroom first, i’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

The man nods, climbing out of bed alongside you. He goes to place a kiss on your lips, but you dodge him. “Oh.. we need to brush our teeth first.”

His lips purse and he has to suppress a groan, but nods in agreement anyways. So instead of making his way to the kitchen, he follows you to the bathroom.

After your morning routine was done and you both make your way into the kitchen, you begin preparing for breakfast cooking. You both move in slow motion, too tired to make a hasty breakfast like you usually would on his training days.

“Pass me the measuring cups?” You sigh, putting your hand out patiently.

Cole steps away from the stove where he was making his bacon to grab the cups. Handing them to you, he goes back to where he was previously.

Your phone was connected to a speaker, playing soft tunes while the two of you cooked. “Ay, can I have a drink?”

Your lips pull into a frown. You’d just poured the perfect cup of orange juice. Reluctantly, you hand your boyfriend the glass. “Don’t drink it all, Cole.” You point at his accusatorially, which he feigns offense at before taking two large gulps just in spite.

You gasp, resisting the urge to lunge at him. “Hey! What did I say? You’re such a—“

“Woah!” He laughs, “watch it!”

“A loving, kind, boyfriend.” You grit through a forced smile, “hand it over.” Your boyfriends laughter echoed throughout the kitchen as he hands you the now half empty cup.

Once breakfast had been made, you two sit down at the table across from each other. “So, we go get curtains at around one, and then stop at the new café down the road? I want to try it, your sister said it’s amazing.”

Cole hums, “after that can we stop by the mall? I want to get a new hoodie.”

“You have like—five thousand. Why do you need another?” Your lip curls into a teasing grin.

“Yeah, and so why is my closet empty? Oh, should we go take a peek in yours?” He shoots back. Your smug look falters. Well. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Oh, shut up.” You huff. “New hoodie, got it.”

The rest of the morning goes smoothly, both of you showering and getting ready for the day at a snails pace. You were grateful for his days off, they always made for the perfect lazy days. Plus, any extra time with Cole was time well spent, no matter how productive.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

#cole palmer #cole palmer x you #cole palmer x reader #cole palmer one shot #cole palmer x y/n #cole palmer imagine #blurb #football #fluff #chelsea fc #chelsea football club

25 notes · View notes

mj-iza-writer · 3 days ago

Text

Human Caretaker/ Monster- hybrid - pet Whumpee. I got the idea while putting a diaper on my dog. He is old and incontinent, so he uses diapers.

Whumpee hid shyly in the corner as they heard Caretaker walking into the room.

"Oh my. It smells in here. Did we have another accident?", Caretaker switched on the light.

Whumpee looked over themself with embarrassment and nodded. They held their head in shame.

"Did you pee while you were napping?", Caretaker approached them.

Whumpee shyly nodded again and tried to tuck farther into the corner.

"It's alright, accidents happen. We are still learning the potty cues, but it's harder to feel it when you sleep", Caretaker gently patted Whumpee's head, "let's get this, and you cleaned up. This is why you stay in this room, so accidents happen safely and can be easily cleaned. You remember that right?"

Whumpee quickly nodded and looked around. The room was larger than anything they had before. No cage doors or electric fences. Just the one rule to stay in there, and Caretaker trusted them to follow it.

Whumpee was a good pet. They would obey the rule for their kind Master.

Whumpee was happy when they saw that Caretaker wasn't mad at them.

They followed Caretaker quietly as they went about cleaning the floor.

"My, you had a lot in you", Caretaker commented as they worked at soaking up the mess, "I guess you are fairly large in size, so it makes sense that you have a larger bladder."

Whumpee cocked their head to the side as Caretaker talked. How they wished to be able to communicate with them.

"Well today was your bath day. Your fur looks a little damp, so you must have gotten into it. Even waking up in the puddle I imagine", Caretaker continued, "lets get a bath done now. You'll be nice and clean then."

Whumpee nodded quickly. They loved bath time.

"I do have something I would like to try with you. We can try it until you are fully potty trained. You have left several messes now. I'm not mad, but this is a lot of pee to keep cleaning", Caretaker sighed, "you may not like it though."

'Anything... anything to make me a better pet for my new master', Whumpee's inner thoughts pleaded, 'anything not to be taken back.'

Whumpee gently bumped their head into Caretaker's arm.

"Alright we will give it a try", Caretaker rubbed Whumpee's snout.

Caretaker set a bag on the table and watched as Whumpee came over.

"Alright, let's try it", Caretaker pulled out a pack.

Whumpee sniffed it a few times.

'What is it?', Whumpee thought to themself. They looked up at Caretaker curiously and whined.

As if reading their mind, Caretaker booped Whumpee's nose.

"These are called diapers, and I'm hoping they fit you", Caretaker sighed, "they are human diapers. Pet diapers are too small. I will have to make a hole for your tail."

Whumpee looked at the pack again.

"Do you promise to let me try this? No teeth Whumpee", Caretaker frowned, "you'll have to be patient."

Whumpee quickly nodded.

"Alright", Caretaker started to open the pack and pulled one out.

Whumpee stood sideways to offer Caretaker a full view of their body.

"Good Whumpee", Caretaker cooed as they unfolded the diaper.

To say it felt weird was an understatement. Whumpee felt shivers up and down their spine every time they moved a muscle and felt the papery fabric move along their lower body. They wanted to run and buck it off.

'Be a good pet', Whumpee sat up on their hind legs and looked down. The diaper covered everything.

"Do you want to try one out? I'm curious at how much it will hold", Caretaker had put the rest of the diapers away, but pulled out a second diaper, "come over to your litter corner so I can shovel up any leaks."

Whumpee followed Caretaker to a corner of the room. A tarp lay on the floor and it was full of kitty litter. This was where Whumpee was supposed to potty. This or outside.

Whumpee looked at Caretaker weirdly.

"Go potty", Caretaker ordered softly.

Whumpee attempted, but was embarrassed at the request.

"Come on, I know you have to. You haven't gone for a while", Caretaker started to message Whumpee's floppy ears.

Whumpee bumped their head into Caretaker's chest and kept it there while their ears were massaged.

Caretaker knew it was a quick way to get Whumpee to relax enough. This was how Whumpee had their first accident.

Whumpee moaned happily as their head laid into Caretaker's chest.

Caretaker hummed until they finally heard liquid spilling.

Caretaker chuckled, "works like a charm."

Whumpee looked up sadly, then down at the droopy diaper. This felt gross and soggy. Even worse than what the diaper felt like when it was dry.

"Hmm, a couple of drips are coming out, but not bad at all", Caretaker inspected, "I might just stick a pad in the diaper as well to help soak up everything."

Whumpee whined.

Caretaker nodded in understanding and started to take it off.

"What do you think? Can this be something to try for a little while until you're potty trained? Maybe you'll have to sleep in them after that", Caretaker carried the used diaper to the trash bin, "maybe we can even have you venture into the other parts of the house. I know you would like to follow me around more often."

Whumpee looked down over themself while Caretaker talked.

'This is kind of embarrassing, but if I could be around you more often... I'd do anything', Whumpee whined and nudged into Caretaker's side.

Caretaker took it as a yes.

"Alright, we will start tomorrow", Caretaker happily petted Whumpee's head, "who's my good pet. I'm so happy I rescued you."

Whumpee nodded, 'me too.'

"Come on out Whumpee", Caretaker called from the hall.

Whumpee had just gone to the bathroom and now wore one of the diapers. They had worn one through the night with no accidents.

Whumpee shyly looked at them before crawling into the hall. Caretaker watched as Whumpee's hind legs stretched out weirdly.

"I suppose you will have to get use to walking in those", Caretaker hid a grin at how silly Whumpee looked.

Whumpee followed Caretaker like a second shadow. Caretaker purposely went throughout their entire home so Whumpee could see everything.

Whumpee tiredly trudged into their room an plopped down.

Caretaker followed behind them.

"Wow you didn't have any accidents", Caretaker felt the diaper, "you did so good."

Whumpee was so tired they could only wag their tail.

"Such a good pet. I'm sure you are ready for a nap. I'll wake you up for dinner", Caretaker knelt down and stroked Whumpee's head, "you are so good for me."

Whumpee looked up at them longingly.

'Anything for you', Whumpee thought as they slowly blinked, 'my kind Master."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

#whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump scenario #whump #whumper #whumpee #caretaker #caretaker and whumpee #monster whumpee #pet whumpee #pet whump

41 notes · View notes

4ranghaes · 1 day ago

Note

hi 🙋🏻👋👋 idk if your still taking song fic reqs but i really want one for woonhak 🙈🙈 you write so good with your fluffs (even angst 🤭) and i really like the idea of your song fics!! TAKE YOUR TIME AND 🫀 YOU

song fic!💋

now playing… new york kiss by spoon

kim woonhak x reader [fluff, gender neutral!reader]

a/n - hiya anonie!!! always taking requests do not worry😁😁 thank you so much!!! also i have the flu rn so im sorry if this comes out a bit nonsensical😃

11:27 - “it’s new york!”

you laughed, letting go of your boyfriend’s hand as he ran through the crowd of people ahead of you, stopping and outstretching his arms, looking up to the sky.

“had you not realised the whole 13 hours we were on the plane?” you teased, catching up to him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“but–but this is it, you know?!” he exclaimed, looking from the people to the billboards to the shops below. “i’ve been here before but this is us, in new york.”

“i know!” you smiled, letting woonhak’s arms wrap around you tightly as you turned around, both of you looking about time square with an amazed smile on your faces.

“you know,” woonhak hummed, burying his face in your neck, “there’s something i always wanted to do.”

“what’s that?” you asked, removing yourself from his grasp and taking his hand, continuing your journey forward.

“have you ever seen sleepless in seattle?” he asked, an excited twinkle in his eyes as he looked at you.

you shook your head. “you know seattle’s not new york, right?”

“ah shut up, you haven’t seen the movie,” woonhak scoffed, brushing off your comment as you laughed. “we just need to go to the empire state building, okay?”

“oh yeah, of course!” you gasped, “that’s one of the places i wanted to go.”

woonhak smiled, pulling out his phone and following the map the short walk to the empire state building.

“what’s the hurry?” you laughed, as woonhak, with your hand in his, began running towards the building.

“ugh, there’s such a long queue!” he whined, stamping his foot impatiently.

“woonhak-ah, it’s okay,” you smiled, stroking his cheek with your thumb, “we have a whole three days, okay?”

woonhak nodded slowly with a smile, “i just want to make sure this is the best trip ever. i want to make sure every time you think of new york, you think of me.”

“i think that’ll be pretty sure!” you exclaimed, “you brought me here, woon-ie! as a gift! no one’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

he nodded sheepishly, his lips in a proud pout as he kicked his foot about on the patterned floor below him. the queue moved slowly for two hours, passing the time between you with shared stories, laughs and kisses, until finally you reached the ‘main deck’.

“shall we not just continue to the top one?” you hummed, as woonhak dragged you out the lift.

he shook his head definitively, “this is where it happens.”

“oh in sleepless in seattle?”

he nodded with a smile. as you walked out onto the deck you suddenly dropped his hand, gasping and running to the edge.

“it’s new york!”

woonhak laughed, chasing after you, “that’s what i said!”

“i can’t believe it,” you smiled, wrapping your arm around your boyfriend’s waist, looking out over the city as you leaned your head on his shoulder, “thank you for bringing me here.”

woonhak didn’t respond, bringing his hands to your face and cupping it in his palms. he leaned forward slowly, kissing you. it felt like the longest kiss in the world, you felt on top of the world. when you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, a smile painted over both your features.

“they meet here,” he pants, a sheepish smile on his face, “its the final scene of the movie, it’s really romantic.”

24 notes · View notes

kazoosandfannypacks · 3 days ago

Text

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

29 notes · View notes

imageingrunge · 10 hours ago

Text

A needlessly thorough review of DATV so I can move on with my life:

WHAT I LIKED:

The story pacing flows better without all that open world slog from DAI I am not bombarded by 50 side quests that have no baring on anything other than rp flavor

The game is pretty, CC is nice

They gave you far more opportunities to flesh out your Rook's background than in DAI and da2 but it's not as fun has having a mini origin story from DAO

no fall damage and if u run out of a combat zone ur companions follow u too

Hossberg wetlands really remind me of dragon age awakenings and I like the way the blight looks there, it gave me a nice nostalgic feeling for the older games

WHAT I DID NOT LIKE (IN DETAIL)

Voice Acting & Dialogue

It is really hard to be invested in a game that feels the need to recap everything you just experienced from 5 minutes ago, (verging on insulting my intelligence) and the silliest part is while i do hate this I got so checked out after act 2 I needed the recap

A lot of the dialogue and banter is just empty small talk and meaningless pleasantries that sucked the life out of me, had me longing for the days of hearing Ohgren's beer belches reverberate off the walls in the deep roads:

Voice acting is really consistent, I hated it when you never knew how your inquisitor would sound in DAI sometimes too serious for a funny comment or like yelling at Cassandra and cullen over nothing - Rook is more consistent but it comes at a loss of personality every line is uttered in the same annoying tone that had me being like damn can he stfu already (da2 was ideal voice acting for me if they cant deliver that again just go back to a voiceless protagonist)

Me whenever my rook opened his mouth: i was getting violent on that skip button

The dialogue between rook and their companions holds it back from being enjoyable at all really- here's some examples:

Emmerich's personal quest in act 2: "I want to do this immortality rite it's a very high honor in my order but rook I might die in the process permanently, I am an orphan and afraid of dying" Rook: "You could die?!?! That's awful"

Companions & Romance

the flirt options aren't all that flirty, its just rook being nice, all the romance content seems behind a 'romance locked in' moment (that comes in so late in the game u already forgot who u were even flirting with at times) so you can't hop ur way from one bed to another before deciding on 'the forever one' (remember when I could ride the iron bull then break up and be with Cullen- I don't think that’s an option here)

The companions are all pretty forgettable, I did everyone's personal quest (with the exception of Taash tried to kill a dragon for them n failed so bad i just moved on) and forgot there was even an approval system with them or that I was supposed to pick choices for them. It felt like i was on a train going in one direction where it did not matter what I said or did to them they would be fine. It’s like I've lost and gained nothing by doing these quests. The deepest thing I learned about Emmerich is that he is a 50 yr old orphan scared of dying. And it makes me not care all that much about them beyond “I just need you to function enough to get me to the end of the game sure Taash embrace being Rivaini, yes Harding live peacefully w that Titan shit inside you idc… Lucanis..ahh what was ur issue again I forget”

I made Lucanis live peacefully with Spite (stuck as an abomination that's supposed to be as volatile as Anders & Justice) Let Emmerich become a lich and no one batted an eye. Everyone just heehee haw hawing over Emmerich's new skeleton form and I forget about spite a lot unless he comments on something i've killed. Was there supposed to be some moral quandary? to make Emmerich a lich I had to "kill off" Manfred... the walking skeleton who might as well have been a rock with a pair of googly eyes attached to him for all i care

I don’t want to help Bellara light funeral pyres in a puzzle game play style that isnt a deep message about death. I want Aveline's speech about reading her favorite book to her dying father after hawke lost thier mother.

For Neve's romance, it took the whole world falling part and everyone dying for her to kiss me for a 2 time and then pity fuck me and afterword she’s like I’m leaving don’t want to be too distracting. All these lines carry no weight like bad actors w no chemistry

jaw on the floor comparing this (first time I said "i love you" to neve)

to the first time I said it to cullen and how he treats u before the big battle

I get that she isn't lovey dovey but at 70 hrs in and 2 kisses it feels like she just dont love me </3

Combat - as a spellblade mage*

combat was this weird mix of sometimes fun sometimes a new and unique form of human torture (wydm press shift 4 times n hold down e then press V C and 2 IM ON A KEYBOARD!) Once u make it past level 20 u are immortal but ur enemies are sponges I dreaded every single dragon fight despite that being my favorite thing to do in DAI. Don't ever want to see another Ogre in my life they body me into corners that hitting space can't save me from.

At some point u just gotta run around the place a lot hoping ur companions can do the damage for you bc the mobs aren’t interested in them at all. i was spamming 2 n slamming on that E key hopping it would be over n done with already, If i wanted to play a flashy monster hunter game, well then id play tw3 at least that combat is fun.

Lore & Story building

At the end of Trespasser, I was under the impression that the conflict in DATV would revolve around solas amassing an army of elves all over Thedas to rebel against the Evanuris. He had a whole network of Spies working against the Inquisition and the Antaam, and planned to restore the elven people, upend their religious views, and try to tear down the veil as a way of atonement. So I was understanding of there only being 3 import choices ( 1- who you romanced, 2- Save or redeem Solas 3- Disband or Keep inquisition). But that's not the story we get; instead its this??

The veil jumpers are like engineering mages with no ties to Solas beyond being an elves. There is no religious struggle they just seem to accept that these Gods have always been evil and need to be stopped. Solas is just a one man army trapped in the fade off screen for like 70% of the game. Should I have just kept the inquisition around after all? The only mention I got was my disbanded inquisition choice was inky going "my name still carries weight in southern thedas" and it seemed like disbanding or keeping it would have an affect on how easy or hard it would be to stop Solas but no it really doesn't at all

“It doesn’t feel like a Dragon Age game”

A criticism I rarely take seriously because that can mean so many different things? Like what is it the atmosphere? The aesthetics? The “dArK fAnTasy” none of these things have ever stayed consistent in any dragon age game. And I’d say DA franchise lost its teeth/edge when dai rolled around it was pretty light in the world of dark fantasy

However…theyre kinda right this time around....

It doesn’t feel like a dragon age game because they removed a lot of the lore your were exposed to in the previous games to the point where this might as well be another game all together. (i am not even a lore nerd but i do need something there to feel like i am in a dragon age game)

Yes the city is named Minrathos you were are told of its cultural significance and history as the seat of the empire but looks like a shittier version of kirkwall (and I kept getting lost going around the map so I hated it even more for wasting my time) Honestly the city felt super high tech and out of place in a fantasy setting imo, I missed it when everyone lived in a wooden hovel in the middle of the woods.

There is no reason for the venatori to follow Elgarnan and ghilian'nan or for the Qunari either but it all gets hand waved away with "they offered us power"

Reading the Inquisitors letters made me feel like im in a spinoff game and the real story is happening somewhere else. And sad to like baby take me with you!! i want to save u from this nightmare

A lot of the factions are sanitized to the point of being boring Darvin's little 'we're warden we don't do blood magic that's just not right" baby I let the wardens sacrifice elves to Corphyeus 3 weeks ago :/

Qunari Culture

So the whole reason you were fighting the Antaam in DAI was because they believed you were in cahoots with Solas, who's whole plan to them is to sow chaos and disorder- that is a HUGE no no in the Qun so they see it as their sacred duty to stop you. The Qunari we meet in DATV mindless npc mooks who attack you not because your with Solas but because the Evil elven gos promised them uhh power n shit for stopping you. Like I know I did not just waste my time in DAI reading about how egalitarian the Qun is everyone is like a Hive, they depend on each other so selfishness is rooted out so wtf was going on in Treviso with these guys. A whole culture decimated down to being darkspawn mobs part 2

What made me never want to play another DA game ever again:

Everything you ever did in Orlais, Ferelden, Kirkwall is pointless. No matter what the last letter from the Inquistor is "yeah the blight reached the south Denerim is gone, ferelden is blighted beyond repair, we took back Skyhold but barely. The Venatori disposed of whoever you put in charge of Orlais and there's giant leviathans rising out the sea in Ostwick" There is no conclusion to this it's just the state of the world now

I cant even pretend my non solas romanced Inky is happy and safe after all this? My hof and Alistar might as well be dead for all that it ever mattered. I get that the devs wanted a clean slate but did they have to burn my house down and salt the fields? It feels so spiteful and mean, like they wanted to make a whole separate game and tack on the "dragon age" title to it for money. If they're not interested in the lore or world building why should I? it made me fully checked out of the rest of the story. Like damn idgaf about elgar'nan and the other one give me back Redcliff

TLDR I dont know if i should be sad that I still care about this or glad its over either way im blocking all datv tags n moving on

#datv #datv critical #dragon age veilguard #da posting #if it were up to me! it be easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for this game to win GOTY #im doing this so i dont become annoying to the ppl that follow me and DO like the game <3 we can move past this

23 notes · View notes

mrs-kodzuken · 10 hours ago

Text

listening to you ⟢ tooru o.

synopsis: being the quiet girl had its perks until you were discovered by the only and only Tooru Oikawa. He's made his advances towards you before, to where you shook him off, but this time you both get close. That's when he discovers your huge, loud, adoring family—a complete opposite from you.

other: high school!oikawa x quiet!fem!reader, reader is Matsukawa's little cousin, family gathering, oikawa falls head over heels, fluff, high school love

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, mentally groaning, preparing yourself because you somehow got the attention of Oikawa yet again. No matter how much effort you tried to blend in, no make up, no differing hairstyles from the other girls, nothing to make you stand out, he always found you.

Before he could reach you, you grabbed your lunch and quickly walked towards the door that led to the staircase of the rooftop.

Students weren’t allowed up there but you were always swift about it, constantly eating lunch up there without anyone knowing. That was the one place you were safe from Oikawa at.

Once you finally settled down on the ground, you were able to enjoy your lunch that your mother always packs you, with a small note of encouragement too. You sighed as the wind blew, wishing Oikawa would just leave you alone.

You had helped him with a homework question once because you had crammed the math equations in your head all summer before school started so you would never fall behind. It was an anxiety thing for you, all your parents could do was encourage you to try your best and say that it would all work out in the end.

However, when you magically solved ‘the hardest question ever’ Oikawa claimed, he tried attaching himself to you since.

Every so often Oikawa would try to ask you out, make little flirty comments, or something of the sort since you apparently ‘saved his life’ with the homework question before it was due. However, it got exhausting trying to avoid this newfound friend, if he’s even that.

You had rejected Oikawa because you knew him, you knew that he was so consumed with volleyball, hence the reason his last girlfriend broke up with him.

Dating Oikawa would not be serious and that went against everything you stood for. You never told him that, you hardly told him anything to be honest. However, that didn’t stop him from constantly pestering you to know more about you.

You groaned when the burning sun got too much for you and made you pack up the empty lunch box and head inside of the building.

You wished you could leave Oikawa out of your head but you simply couldn’t, he never tired—to him, this was like volleyball, you intrigued him and now he won’t stop.

“You know, no students are supposed to be up there, right? I never pegged you to be a bad kid, Y/n-chan.” You didn’t even have to turn around to know who was talking to you. Leave it to Oikawa to know where you were at all of lunch.

And the fact that absolutely no one calls you Y/n-chan either was a dead giveaway—and the fact that he immediately put you on a first name basis.

“Hi, Oikawa.” You curtly said, trying to get around him and head to class, not really wanting to deal with his antics right after lunch.

“Awe, Y/n-chan, spare me a couple more minutes please?” He whined, still following you to your class, which was separate from his too.

“Okay, fine. What?” You had your limits, and Oikawa always tried to push them, it’s been this way for almost an entire month.

“Come with me after school? I have a surprise for you,” He smirked, wanting you to meet his team. You don’t have any extracurricular activities either so it would be perfect.

The bell was about to ring, and for you it made you anxious, you just wanted to be in class and not be late.

“Okay, okay fine. I have to go.” You left him standing in the hallway without any regard to how he was going to be late for class as you rushed into your own.

Oikawa on the other hand didn’t if he was late, you agreed to something he asked for the first time ever. He breesly walked to class, not caring about being late nor the slap he got from Iwaizumi either.

Oikawa knew he wanted to prove to you that he actually likes you, he can always see the skepticism on your face when he asks you out.

Granted, he’s gotten discouraged sometimes and wanted to leave you alone but being your friend was better than nothing to him. And, he has priorities too, he’s not just some aloof guy who had tunnel vision for just volleyball—although he does love it.

After classes were over, Oikawa tried taking your hand in his—to which you in the blink of an eye yanked it away from him—he led you to the gym where he practices. You could hear the volleyballs, the squeaking of shoes, and minimal talking and laughing in the background.

Anxiety spiked in your stomach, “I’m not going in there, you realize that right?” You backed away, a hint of disdain in your voice. After the amount of time he’s been attached to you and didn’t realize that you wouldn’t do that was kind of weird to you.

“What? You don’t want to meet my team?” Oikawa asked, with puppy dog eyes, pleading with his hands together.

“No, Oikawa, I’m not meeting your team—I just, I don’t want to.” You turned away, adjusting your bag and preparing to walk home, not explaining more to him about the why.

You never really gave Oikawa a goodbye when you leave, you realize.

“Wait, Y/n, I won’t make you meet them. Do you have to go, though?” He genuinely asked, devising to ask you to come see something else, wanting more time with you.

“I…No, I don’t have to go, just don’t make me go in there.” You confessed, letting him have more of your time that you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t give him.

“Thank you, follow me, I promise it’s nothing bad.” He half smiled, something genuine instead of the smirks he constantly flashes you.

You reluctantly followed him as he led you around the gym, to the backside of it. It was a surprise when you saw a lot of cherry blossom trees, their petals were everywhere, it looked magical.

“This is where I come to hideout sometimes, I think it’s very calming.” You looked at him in awe, setting your bag to the side once you sat down on the grass. Oikawa knew it was different being with you, you could let Oikawa talk for a while and he would know you were listening because that’s just who you were.

You were different too, you didn’t fawn over him or try to constantly get his attention or make yourself an obstacle in his way when he was in a hurry. Sometimes it was hard to really be himself and keep a facade when he just wanted to be by himself.

He doesn’t get that feeling with you though, that’s why he’s been trying so hard to woo you. He stared at you while you looked around at the trees, probably loving the sight when the wind blew.

It would gently wake up the petals and twirl them around in the air for a small dance before moving them to new spots.

When he settled next to you, being sure not to repeat his mistake from earlier and touch you without your consent, he set his head back onto the tree bark. Being able to talk free of anyone judging him is what he also loved about being with you.

“Yeah, and I take my nephew—his name is Takero—to volleyball classes on Monday’s because that’s when the team takes a break from practice.” Oikawa prattled on, you played with the soft, pink petals that littered the ground underneath the cherry blossom tree.

You never realized that Oikawa actually liked a place like this either. Maybe you put a small stereotype on him when you realized that he was pining for you.

He continued about his parents after finishing telling you about some of his childhood experiences with his older sister, she sounded like a delight.

He left you there to listen to him, which wasn’t a pain as you actually got to hear who the real Oikawa was and that made you smile during some of the stories he told you. Once he was finished opening up, he peered his gaze towards you.

He wanted to know you too, you realized that he created this conversation discussion to also hear about you. That didn’t happen, you both sat in silence that was only awkward on your end.

He watched your face, tracing every bit of it with his eyes, stamping it to his memory.

Oikawa really fancied being here with you, watching your movements of how you apply chapstick, play with the ends of your hair, and other small tid-bits. However, after a few minutes trail by, he realized that neither one of you were speaking and he was just staring at you.

You could see Oikawa getting curious about your reluctance to talk about your family, you genuinely didn’t know where to even start either. You chewed on your lip, which didn’t go unnoticed by him either.

Your family was incredible and they have respected you since the beginning so you never had a reason to be ashamed of them.

Moreso, you were ashamed of the fact that you weren’t like them. You would give anything to not be the oddball of the family, even though they wouldn’t have it any other way.

However, you weren’t about to open up about your deepest insecurities to a third year who didn’t know anything about you. In his mind though, he was curious about your home situation, the thoughts were endless for him.

What if you didn’t get along with your family and he was pushing boundaries he didn’t know were there? Or perhaps you had a single parent, or grandparent, or even an aunt or uncle.

He knew that no matter what it was, he wanted to be respectful to you and your kin. After realizing you preferred the traditional ways of dating, he was piecing together the perfect opportunity to ask your family—or guardian—to date you.

“I want to ask you out the right way Y/n.” Oikawa started, not looking at you anymore but the side of the gym for the fact that he could hear his teammates leaving the gym and realized he skipped an entire practice to be here with you.

“Can I meet your family and ask for permission?” He finished, a caring smile he gave you, only you in that moment. Your heart skipped a beat too, you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to refrain from the blush you could feel coat your cheeks.

You never, ever thought that the Oikawa Tooru would ask you to meet your family in order to ask you out. You figured he would have just gotten bored at that point. You nod, actually allowing it this time. How he figured it out? You have no clue.

You both got up from underneath the cherry blossom tree, you collected some so you could press them later too.

Oikawa made a little stop at the corner store so he could buy flowers for when he asked, it made him nervous when he saw you resisting a giggle as you waited on him.

Seeing you happy like that was something Oikawa never wanted to share with anyone else. He walked a step behind you on the sidewalk to your house because he wanted you to lead the way, obviously not knowing where you lived.

You swiftly pulled out a card from your bag as you both arrived at a pristine white, large gate. You swiped the card through which allowed you to enter, hearing the small creaks from the gate with Oikawa following shortly behind, he was in awe that you lived within an actual gated community.

However, as he followed you, he stared at the sight of quite a large family outside, they were enjoying the weather.

He could tell by the sports that were being played, the smoke from the grill, and small children drawing on the sidewalk.

He smiled at the sight, enjoying the happiness that he got from seeing a family like that. It made him wonder—and get nervous again—about the fact that he was going to actually meet yours within a few short minutes.

Although, imagine Oikawa’s surprise when you turn down that driveway and wave to your little cousins who were chalking very colorful pictures on the sidewalk.

“Wait, Y/n, this is your family?” Oikawa asked, sounding taken aback that this was your family.

You peered behind you as you grabbed the door knob to open the front door, “Yes…?”

His brown eyes stared back in awe, and you half smiled, entering the house. After taking off your shoes, you did your afternoon routine in which he just stood there, waiting for you.

He soaked in all of the pictures on the walls, counters, bookshelves, everything. Seeing pictures of you when you were a kid was something he wanted to so badly coo over but he had to do something before he could.

“Everyone’s outside,” You motioned towards the back, grabbing Oikawas’ attention from the pictures he couldn’t help but to stare at.

“Oh, okay. Let’s go then,” He gathered himself and accidentally tightened his hand on the flowers a bit too tight as he walked with you. When you both stepped outside onto the patio, he got a full view of your family, they were so picture perfect, like that kind family that’s in the movies.

However, he was extra shocked, his jaw slacking basically on the ground when he saw Mattsun there.

“Y/n, is Mattsun a part of your family?” He questioned, pointing at his teammate, knowing it was bad manners but did it anyway. That gathered Mattsukawa’s attention and came closer to talk to his team captain.

“Hey Kawa, didn’t know I’d see you here. You missed practice, Iwaizumi was not happy.” Mattsun smirked, giving you a small side hug, something that you both always gave each other at these family reunions.

“Yeah, yeah,” Oikawa rolled his eyes, “I was busy, why didn’t you say anything about Y/n being a part of your family? You’ve listened to me talk about her for a while!” Oikawa groaned, embarrassed that he was actually whining to his friend who was kin to the girl he likes.

Mattsun chuckled, “I didn’t think it was important, and she would’ve told you if she wanted you to know, isn’t that right?” He looked down at you, making you shimmy out of the side hug.

“Go play ball, I got to find my dad,” You motioned for Mattsun to leave and urged Oikawa to come with you, you swallowed harshly, the excitement that Oikawa was doing this for you never going away.

“There’s my little girl!” Your dad exclaims as you walked towards him, he had on an apron with ‘best cook’ written on it, it was his favorite to use at these reunions. That was mostly to get at his brother—your uncle, Mattsun’s dad.

“Hi dad, I brought someone who wants to meet you.” You smiled, making way for Oikawa. You hoped he was being serious when he said he would do this the traditional way.

“Hi sir, I’m here because I like your daughter and wanted to know if I had your permission to take her on a date?” He swiftly said, handing your father the flowers, glad that the only sign of nervousness was his sweaty palms that he wiped on his school uniform pants.

“Ahh, my wife will love these, thank you. You’re the one who's been bugging my little girl haven't you? Go ahead, it’s okay.” Your dad chuckled, ruffling your hair, he loved to see that his kid—not accepting that you’re almost an adult within a few years—was happy.

“Thank you, sir.” Oikawa smiled brightly, a twinkle in his eyes, and that’s when you saw the little rosiness on his cheeks, he fancied you so much, you realized.

Oikawa then spent the next fifteen minutes speaking with your family, getting to know them, especially your mom—not Mattsun though.

After that, he had asked your mom where you went, “Oh, Y/n’s probably in her room, go see if she’s okay for me.” Your mom winked at him as he waved and went inside.

Once Oikawa finally figured out which room was yours, he gently knocked and went in when a small ‘come in’ was heard.

“Hi Y/n,” He smiled softly, enjoying to see this side of you, hoping that since he’s done this the traditional way, you’d finally take him more seriously. He watched your form put your book down, your window was open, you liked listening to your family, but enjoyed also being by yourself.

To his surprise, you gave him a wide smile, “Hi Tooru,” You said, effectively making his heart skip a beat in response.

Oikawa knew that you were worth the wait to figure out.

a/n: soft oikawa pining for reader jus does smth for me, i hope you like it!! <33 & requests are open!

26 notes · View notes

shaunashipman · 2 days ago

Note

Hi. We don’t know each other, but I follow all your 911 posts, and so far you’re one of the only people I follow who is approaching this bullshit breakup storyline with the same level of anger as I am lol. Everyone else I’ve seen just seems heartbroken, which is their right (and I am too tbh), but I have not yet seen the same level of rage from anyone else that I feel like this shit deserves. Because what the fuck was that. You mean to tell me this show lovingly built up this relationship with a decent amount of care and decorum, only to ruin it in one scene with a level of cruelty I have not seen in tv in a LONG time? Probably since my House Md days when they had him drive a car through Cuddy’s house after they broke up. Talk about a slap in the face. Like not only was it bad writing, it was just plain mean. There was practically no warning. Felt like starting to fall off the edge of a cliff, seeing someone next to you, reaching your hand out to them and watching them reach back, only to have them snatch it away at the last minute. Jesus Christ.

Also. Those comments by Oliver, who had been trying to ‘do right’ by the storyline (or whatever the fuck he thought he was doing) and bisexuality as a whole, were like kicking someone when they’re already on the floor. Maybe he didn’t mean them badly or didn’t realize how they sounded. I’ve already seen people saying that he can’t be biphobic because of everything else he’s said, or that they themselves as a bisexual didn’t find them biphobic. Idgaf. As a bisexual I found them biphobic. We are not a hive mind. What is offensive to some is not offensive to all. And maybe he isn’t actually biphobic. The man is cryptic and inscrutable at best and I don’t know him, so I can’t say anything definitely. What I DO know is that while he has said nice things about bisexuals, he has not really said a single nice thing about his bisexual storyline. He has also not said a SINGLE WORD OF DEFENSE of his SCENE PARTNER IN A MAJOR STORYLINE who had been receiving DEATH THREATS (and apparently any other love interest either, but those were before I started paying attention to this show so I have no first-hand knowledge and can’t speak to them.) The lack of tact is one thing, but to also lack a spine?? Hoo boy. I can’t defend that. He has no problem talking back when he or his friends are in the line of fire. Not speaking up at all, for anyone, even to be like ‘hey. They’re just doing their job and acting in a storyline that was written for them. It’s just a tv show’ is pretty cowardly tbh. And he can take his bullshit apology-that-wasn’t that he has ALREADY DELETED and shove it up his ass. I no longer care.

I doubt they will, but I hope their ratings tank for this honestly. The general audience probably isn’t as hurt by this and there won’t be any actual repercussions for this nightmare of television writing, but GOD I vindictively hope that something happens to show them that actions have consequences. Either way I’m done.

Thanks for opening your inbox to venting. Hope you have a good weekend while also continuing to be as mad about this as I am lol ☺️

I don't know how to get sad without getting angry. that's just who I am. my sad button and my rage button are connected.

this was exceptionally shitty writing. they foreshadowed nothing. they built up nothing. this came out of nowhere, in the show itself and in the actual episode.

and oliver is on my shit list forever. I will never watch another show by tim minear and I will never watch oliver in anything ever again. he can fade into obscurity when this show hopefully dies after this season, go back to britain and work in a cafe where he can also let his co-workers be abused by customers and not say anything.

I hope he deletes his insta just like his twitter. actually I hope he throws a little fit first, I hope he has a tantrum about all of the righteous anger he's seeing, and acts like even more of a cunt before deleting. really let everyone know he's a self-centered twatwaffle who can't handle ppl not kissing his ass.

after today's work I have a whole week off to be pissed, and I'm not censoring myself. the only shit I'm not putting on my blog are the violent thoughts I'm having towards oliver and tim, because despite this I'm still a decent human being.

#cleo gets mail #wild-magic #911 spoilers

23 notes · View notes

ednaeflowers · 2 days ago

Text

Never having a problem with material items, Edna is not very materialistic, so she cannot quite understand Yuri's brother geeking out—but she does understand that those things must've fascinated him all the same. Since they're such bumpkins, Sorey and Mikleo did that all the time, after all. Eizen was like that too. He loved learning about the world; cared a lot about the rich knowledge the past had to offer, how old artifacts held lots of significance about the evolution of the world and whatever else he liked rambling about. Edna admittedly never understood most of it, given how young she'd been at the time, but she at least knew that it was important to her brother and that was why she even listened in the first place. Maybe Yuri was like that too with his brother: not really understanding the whys in particular, but was still supportive because it made the person happy.

When she was younger, Edna ... still wasn't good at conveying herself with words. She preferred to help Onii-chan with anything he had to do so that she could be useful; she picked up pretty flowers to make flower crowns to give him as gifts; she followed him around when she didn't want to be alone. Words were just too hard for her. The wrong words could lead to misunderstandings, and actions seemed more practical to her. But even then, perhaps her lack of contact with more than one person had kept her sheltered in a way. There are times when Edna deliberately presents herself as cold and curt, but there have also been times she accidentally came off too cruel and callous. Sorey had been a victim to that and while she did sincerely apologized, it had left a regretful feeling in Edna's heart.

This is why she wanted to stay quiet about her brother. Yuri probably doesn't even know how dragons are so dangerous—after all, dragons are something that seraphim are familiar with—but at the same time, Edna didn't just want to cry and leave him with nothing. She didn't even want to cry to begin with, but the damage has been done, and there's no turning back now. With how he patiently listens to her, he does sort of remind her of Onii-chan in a way. ❛ He sounds like a weirdo, ❜ she softly remarks, lightheartedly, ❛ but that's why he had you to look out for him, I guess. ❜ Even though she's younger, she sometimes had to scold Onii-chan to get back on track whenever he geeked out a little too much.

She has to pause for a moment upon Yuri's insistence. Edna had thought he'd back away if she volunteered to fix the mess by herself. Even though he came here to Rayfalke for official business, she had thought, for a brief moment, that he would eventually see no more reason to come back here once the looters problem has been resolved. His job is done, so his business here should be done too, right? But thinking back to their entire conversation, back from when they had started this whole trip up the mountains, the more she found herself not caring anymore. True, this is the first time they've met, but they already found some common ground with each other about ... brothers. About family. And to Edna, she values family because 'family' gave her life meaning. It's nice to talk with someone who also has that same sentiment.

❛ Yeah, this is definitely a human problem I shouldn't have to deal with, ❜ she comments grumpily, sniffling again. He really does have a point anyway, so she supposes Yuri will just have to play janitor for a while. He is clearly stubborn to help and while she'd normally take the opportunity to tease about it, Edna's too emotionally tired to do so right now, but when she hears him agree to bring flowers the next day, she is about to give him a genuine thank you—

Edna blinks upon feeling herself get tugged, then ... A hug? She blinks again, confused. Sure, Lailah's given her a hug before when they reunited for Sorey's journey, but that was a hug from Lailah, not...

She doesn't return the hug, but she doesn't shove him away either. Yuri seems as tall as him, she notices absently, lowering her umbrella a bit to accommodate the position. Eizen's the only male she lets touch her with all of her trust. She is still awkward whenever Mikleo touches her, and now Yuri is the third male in her life to touch her. Hugs from Onii-chan were so long ago, Edna is starting to forget them. Mikleo's never actually hugged her before, so she doesn't have much for a recent frame of reference, but ... It's comforting. Yuri's hug is tentative. It's not a hug that oversteps anything, just something that wanted to comfort her. She can tell that much.

When he lets her go, Edna says knowingly, ❛ Lailah will know how to send a letter through the Turtlez. They deliver mail for us seraphim. ❜ When he starts leaving, she takes her umbrella to shield her face first before raising her voice a little: ❛ Yuri. I'll only say it once: thanks. ❜

Being a seraph means sleep is not a necessity, so Edna had spent the rest of her day mourning after Yuri had departed. After taking a walk around the mountain to clear her mind, she had mainly spent time at her brother's grave. She left those holes alone to honor Yuri's words, but the sight of them still annoyed her, so she stayed at the edge of the clifftop and kept watch as time passed to this current day. Yesterday's events still took a toll on her emotionally, so Edna takes today's walk on the mountain again, keeping a watchful eye out for more looters. Miraculously, there are none. She would've set up traps beforehand, but that would also affect Meebo and Yuri if they come by, so she decides against it. Those 'natural' disasters yesterday must've gotten through to those losers anyway.

Edna continues mourning after her walk, now seated on a rock nearby the grave to stare at the scenery, only turning around when she hears noises behind her. She quietly watches Yuri keep his word and fix the holes with a shovel he brought along. He even got the orchid flowers she wanted... He really did come back and found those flowers within the day... If all humans had his sense of honor, maybe she'd hate them a little less.

❛ What's that? ❜ she softly asks, walking over to him. She hasn't cried ever since he left yesterday, so her eyes aren't as pink and sore anymore to hide. Staring at the item he left in front of the grave, she tilts her head. It looks like a ... statue? ❛ You know, you didn't have to get this, right? Could've spent your money on something you actually need. ❜ She stares at it again. Is it a small mountain? She wonders how long it took him to find it because she doubts he could've carved it himself given all the physical movement he did yesterday. Accounting the time it must've taken to hike back up here and the time to find those flowers, he definitely bought it. He bought this for her. He bought this for her brother.

❛ Leaving a mountain on a mountain, though. Clever, ❜ she quips, just to maintain some sort of lighthearted atmosphere. Just because she stopped crying doesn't mean she is over it yet. Now that he fixed up the holes, she does feel a little better, but ... ❛ So, on a scale of one to ten, how sore are your legs today? ❜

When it came to crying, she must have been like him. Always bothered by the idea of others seeing it, even though it meant... nothing, really. It was as if Yuri was okay with showing any other emotion except... sadness. He remembered the day Jiri died, the way his vision blurred and he got up and left the room. The way he was the last person before Hanks to stay with her until she died. Even at that time, being willing to show sadness was... difficult.

Perhaps it was because Edna had always been alone. Because there had never really been anyone around her that she felt she could trust to know her feelings. To see her feelings in their rawest form. On the other hand, Yuri had always been sort of the... "group leader". Always feeling like he had to be strong for everyone. Like he had to watch out for everyone. He had worried back then about showing negative emotions. Worried the other boys would feel unsafe and less secure. As the years went on and he had started raising more younger orphans, he didn't want to let them see him like that.

While Yuri couldn't say he understood the concept of becoming a dragon, he still understood that it was not a good fate from her story. Before he turned into a dragon, he was truly a person. Full of personality, a family even if perhaps only of one, someone who was beloved by that person. As if becoming that dragon made him lose all of that. It was... a shame that they were not like the Entelexeia. Beings who were not human, but transformed into another life form as evolution. Became spirits like a next phase of life. Dragons here... didn't seem to be like that.

He gave an "mm" of agreement at her statement. Indeed, Yuri couldn't help thinking of Jareth either when things weren't... going well. Still, he managed a small chuckle. "Yeah... My brother had this phase not long before he died... He geeked out about material belongings that he could finally afford. Honestly, it was weird and concerning to me, because it wasn't like him. He was one of us. Poor, thrifty, just happy to have whatever we had. But... it must've also been a wild, mind blowing thing to him to have shiny, well crafted things. Even the little kids were amazed. I was worried at the time, but... I also... can't blame him for feeling that way just because I wouldn't. And like I had said at the time... he could spend his money how he wanted to."

Back then he'd truly been concerned, but when he got older... he understood. Sure, it really wasn't like him, but... it was new to him, and for him, it also could've meant... having money. Having a living. Being able to get away from just struggling to survive. Barely getting by. He saw a future in some form of wealth. Saw a future by everyone in the Lower Quarter moving out and finding a new place to stay together. The nobles abused that desire... and it was the nobles he despised for that. For leading Jareth astray until the boy's hope became desperation out of concern for everyone's safety.

Though they'd just met, he did feel... at least something of a connection with Edna. There was something there. Anyone he passed by he wouldn't wish sadness or suffering upon, but he didn't know most people's lives. Their stories. Their history. When he finally did hear someone's - Edna's - it had little details that made Yuri think of his own life. Both the good and the bad.

"You could fix it with your powers, but... that was made by humans. I just think... it should be a human who fixes a human's mess. It shouldn't be your job to fix what humans did here." His gaze returned to the now covered holes, the dirt clearly moved after having settled for a long time. He really did need to speak to Harry about this. Just because this was a foreign land didn't give anyone the right to be borderline grave digging and robbing. If Harry wouldn't do something about it, Raven no doubt would, or Raven would convince Harry to.

Bring flowers, she said... He'd probably need some direction, but he could search for some. This place was still unfamiliar territory, but he didn't like the idea of not fulfilling her request. Of... coming back to fix the holes and not leaving the flowers. Red orchid... He could probably search tomorrow before coming back up the mountain. Going back down would be easier, but there was no way he would be able to take another whole trip back up and down the mountain today. Tomorrow was his only chance for a while though. After tomorrow, his legs would be highly sore from the trips. There was no way even his body would be able to pull off another trip up this mountain so soon.

"Yeah... I'll ask around since I'm not too familiar with the location, but... I'll look for some." He paused, then sighed. This was... possibly a bit much. Overstepping, even. They were essentially strangers. Regardless though, he couldn't... just leave her to feel so alone and helpless at what had happened once he had to leave for the day. So he lightly, gently, and with little pressure pulled her closer. The lightest hug he could manage to keep her from feeling overwhelmed, and light enough for her to reject it and back away. Nothing overly familiar that might make her uncomfortable. Just... something so she knew he didn't take any of this lightly. So she didn't seem like just another assignment for his job, and someone he just felt sorry for along the way. While he had to keep his job in mind, this was... a bit more than that now.

He was careful, gentle, when he pulled back to speak. "Not sure when I'll be back tomorrow, but it's gonna be a bit of a trip like today, so... I won't be able to come back for a fair bit. Unfortunately the limitations of human bodies means my legs are gonna hate me after tomorrow. I can hang out for a bit, but otherwise, after that... when I come back for that festival in Ladylake, I'll look for one of your friends. See if they can get a hold of you somehow so you can go with us."

All that was left was for him to give her his farewells until tomorrow. After getting down the mountain, it would be getting late. He'd have to turn in pretty quickly after, if he wanted to make sure he had time tomorrow to get everything done and get back down before it was late. There was no reason to fill Karol and Judith in since they would be staying at the same inn despite their different assignments, so he could at least square away his plans for tomorrow with them.

---

Searching for the flowers hadn't been too difficult once he'd asked around among the nearby residents. Karol and Judith had offered to help, but given what happened yesterday, Yuri preferred to work on Edna's request by himself. Unfortunately Judith needed Ba'ul today again too though, which meant Yuri was still on his own for the mountain climb. If he were to ever come back here if Edna wanted visitors, Ba'ul would be... helpful. Certainly, very helpful. Given the climb though, Yuri preferred not to have Repede have to go up the mountain with him. Even for Repede, it was a lot. For today too, he'd be with Karol on Karol's assignment.

Thankfully there was no sign of the looters on the way back up. Earlier today, Yuri had heard some rumor going around about the mountain being "cursed", so the guys Edna had spooked yesterday had probably started gossiping about their experience. Most likely though, it would keep people away now at least. At the very least, the foreigner groups.

As promised though, he laid the flower bunch at the front of the grave, followed by poking at the dirt with the shovel he'd bought to fix the uneven coverings. There wasn't much need to redo a lot of it, but he did make sure to redo the edges and make sure the tops were patted down properly. Once everything looked okay, Yuri pulled out the carved sculpture of a mountain he'd purchased while checking the market for a shovel, placing it against the grave with the flowers.

It was no artifact, but it was clearly crafted with care and quite possibly based on this mountain. His chances of finding a real, genuine artifact were slim, and a real one being sold at any market would cost more than he could afford. Something like that would be doable if he was a on job from Ioder, but that wasn't the case right now. For now... this was what he could do, and it wasn't likely any looter would be up here again any time soon.

#bravewolfvesperia #°˖✧❀ ❛ peace on the mountains. ┊ main verse. ❀✧˖°#[ gently sets this here ]#my eyes are so bloodshot that i almost copy-pasted my reply into discord instead of tumblr #so pretend there aren't any typos if you see any 😂

17 notes · View notes