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presidentbungus · 2 years

Text

day 3 - Pen Pals

screwed with the format for this one. hopefully it’s remotely readable. i proofread this once and im sending it out now and you cant stop me and good luck. read in a marginally better format on ao3

(this is science party, just for the record)

Hallo Engie! I hope all is going well. Crossing to the workshop just for a question seemed frivolous, so I am having Scout deliver a letter for me—if it is stained or wrinkled in any capacity, you know why.

That said, I am running routine repairs on the Quick-Fix and it seems that the heal serum is not dispensing at optimal amounts—it does not seem to be a problem with the battery, though admittedly that’s all I have checked. Do you know what it could be?

Thank you very much!

Sincerely, Medic

—

hi try flushing the tube with water and check for residue in the backpack get back to me if it works

(P.S. your handwriting is VERY hard to read)

Engie

—

I did what you said and it seems to be working for now! Thank you very much for the advice.

Apologies for the handwriting—I tried to do better here but I suppose to some degree I can’t help it. For future, however, I’d appreciate if you used punctuation. Illegible handwriting or not, there is no excuse for this grammatical inaccuracy to this severe of a degree!

Sincerely, Medic

—

Sorry Scout was rushing me last time. Your handwriting’s still bad. How are you getting him to hold still so long while you write? Tell me your secrets

D.C.

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Oh, you know. This and that. I’ll give you this: If you tell him enough times that the only thing stopping you from dismembering him limb-from-limb is polite societal convention, eventually he stops arguing with you. It works! Let me know how it goes.

Sincerely, Medic

—

Don’t do that.

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Come on. Don’t be a dummkoph. It’s just Scout.

Medic

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I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! never talk too me agian

engy

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Hi. Sorry it’s been a bit, Scout came into the workshop yelling about something and he kicked the table and left and he didn’t come back after that so I guess he can’t deliver these for us anymore. You’ve probably already noticed I rigged up one of the bad sentry prototypes to wheel itself down to the lab, tell me if it got there and I guess I’ll know if it got back okay, just set a note on the top and if it doesn’t start going back hit it a few times and hopefully it should start working

Dell

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More or less as I expected. I knew it couldn’t be sustained. I have to say I admire your ingenuity, however. (Is there any particular reason why there is a happy face in permanent marker drawn on the top?)

Attached is also a letter which Scout gave me shortly before his described outburst that I think you will find somewhat interesting. He said he “swore for real Engie wrote it” and then he kicked a table and ran away. Do you know anything about it?

Sincerely, Medic

—

Scout wrote that alright. Not sure what he was aiming to achieve but I guess he probably got it. Be honest, did it fool you? Even a second? If yes then let me know so I can change whatever I did ASAP

(P.S. It gets lonely in the workshop sometimes. Her name is Susan, for the record, and she lights up every goddamn room she’s in)

(P.P.S. don’t judge me!!)

Dumkoph

—

There’s two M’s in dummkoph. Disappointing, really. I expected better.

Kidding! I guessed it wasn’t you fairly quickly because normally I am capable of reading your handwriting. The incredible amount of misspellings packed into just a sentence also assisted somewhat. Your writing isn’t nearly that bad. Good news.

(The fluorescent lights in the lab do reflect quite violently off of her casing, I have to say, so appropriate commendations. Judging you was not at the forefront of my mind until you brought it up. This is your own fault. I have taken the liberty to add a few physical enhancements, as well as a temporary security solution until we can get a more robust security system in place. Improving upon the original design and whatnot. I hope it is to your lofty standards.)

Sincerely, Medic

—

It’s your fault you haven’t taught me german yet.

I see the angry eyebrows and I appreciate them, but was it really necessary for them to be real though? And follow up, where did you get them? If you say Scout so help me god

I’m not sure about the knife either—seems like it could be bad for the walls. The bit of blood on the blade’s also worrying. I’ve removed it for the time being but rest assured I’m blueprinting up a new system—get back to me if you have any ideas!!!!

Dummkoph

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jesus christ shack the fuck up already

tavish

—

A new system may be prudent—it seems we were intercepted, and someone else tucked a letter in with yours. Nasty stuff. We should probably do it sooner rather than later.

(Where I got them isn’t important. I’m glad they were appreciated.)

Sincerely, Medic

—

I figured that would happen sooner or later. Installed a little facial scanner number I’ve been waiting to test—should laser anyone besides us if they get too close. What did the letter say by the way?

D.C.

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Nothing of note. Don’t worry about it.

I was going to ask what you meant by “laser”, but Darwin landed on Susan and I suppose I got my answer. Very interesting—I wonder if this could have potential applications? The entire lab smells like burning now. Would you be so kind as to send over some air freshener?

Sincerely, Medic

—

No really, I wanna know. Even if it’s stupid. You got my curiosity eating at me now—shame on you! You should know better

Here’s a pine tree fresher thing Sniper gave me on my birthday that I never used. Normally I wouldn’t regift a gift but it feels less awful if the original was probably scraped out of a glove compartment ten minutes before (god don’t tell him I said that!) Hope it helps!!!

Dell

—

You use too many exclamation marks. Just a note. You sound very excited all the time. Keep it in mind!

It has not assisted much, unfortunately, but I dangled it from Susan’s muzzle and I think it suits her. Hopefully this will help mask any further burning.

Sincerely, Medic

—

Well I am excited. So how about that?

She looks gorgeous, thank you. It really brings out her eyes.

Dell

—

Is there any particular reason you’re excited?

Sincerely, Medic

—

I like y I’m dunno. I’m always excited. Something like that.

Seriously, what did that note say? Don’t keep avoiding me.

D.C.

—

I ha Stop asking to I’ve attached it if you really want to see it.

Medic

—

Demo thinks he’s funny, don’t he?

Dell

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I suppose.

Medic

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I just think tha Do you w I don’t really I think we should talk about it.

Dell

—

About what?

—

I think you know.

—

I do not think we should talk about whatever you are saying we should talk about.

Medic

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I’m real sorry if I ruined something.

—

It’s not that big of a deal.

—

I think it is

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I think it’s stupid if we’re avoiding each other because of what happened last time.

—

Yes

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I regret not doing whatever we were going to do.

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What do you mean?

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I should have kissed you when I had the chance.

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Me too.

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I’m glad you’re in agreement.

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I’m glad too

—

This has lost all its novelty, hasn’t it?

You’re not giving me anything.

Sincerely, Medic

—

Do you want to meet in ten minutes and go over equations?

Dell

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Equations?

Medic

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I couldn’t think of a better word. Five minutes by the way

Love, D.C.

—

I think I’d like that.

Love, Medic

#dnadvalentines2022 #bungus fics #science party #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer

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linsallyworld · 3 years

Text

Should I be doing my university works?Yeah but I fell in love with Miss Beifong.

I'm so sorry for my real teachers.

Chapter 2

The Iron Lady

Chapter 3

Words: 3900 (I KNOW RIGHT???)

"You don't look well." Korra murmured as you sat at the double desk in Professor Izumi's classroom. You were Korra's partner in this class because the teacher didn't trust her with chemicals near Asami. Last time she melted a test tube because of a lack of attention. You gave her your best "Fuck you" look and Korra laughed smoothly. "How many weeks?" Your legs are trembling at the thought of what just happened a few minutes ago. Your fingers pull the chemistry book to try to keep up with what Professor Izumi was writing on the board.

"She didn't give me detention." You whisper to the girl beside you, feeling when her eyes fixed on your face with complete disbelief. "I think she's afraid I will tell anybody." Korra lets out a breath through her nose at the start of a laugh. You frown at her, Professor Izumi's almost done writing a summary about electrochemistry.

"Do you think Professor Beifong is afraid of anything?" She had a point there. It was the iron lady you were talking about, the woman who astonished the students while walking through the corridors, who was happy to give detention to those who got out of the line slightly, who always had sharp eyes for a misspelled word in the English test. She was a cruel teacher with a Ph.D. in modern literature. She wasn't afraid of a senior, not at all.

"Maybe of the devil." Murmured Asami behind you, making Korra wheeze.

"Why would she be afraid of her drinking buddy?" The girl next to you completed making you laugh just like Jinora and Asami. Even if that mocking smile still blinks in your mind, even if that mocking smile still makes your fingers shake a little. "But if she didn't give you detention, that means we have an advantage now." You frown at Korra and she gives you her most naughty smile. "Are you really going to give me detention, Professor Beifong?" She makes an extremely dramatic voice from an innocent little girl's poor impression. "I bet Professor Su wouldn't do that." She blinks her eyes while moving her head. Asami has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing extremely loud.

"Stop this." You pat her on the shoulder, even though the giggle is still in your mouth. "I will never play with luck with Professor Beifong. You know that." Korra nods in agreement and you turn to the teacher at the front of the classroom, with a warm smile. You weren't a big fan of chemistry, but Professor Izumi had a warm sympathy that always made the lesson worthwhile. And you were grateful to her. The girls didn't ask exactly what Professor Beifong said. You don't know what she meant or what that suddenly smile could mean.

You let out a sigh and decide you need to get the English teacher out of your head if you want to study chemistry.

You always came home with Korra, Asami, Jinora, Mako, and Bolin. Jinora was the one who lived farthest and Professor Tenzin always offered a ride to you, but you preferred to walk because that way you could talk. Asami lived with her father in a huge house at the end of a street before yours. Korra lived between Jinora and you. Mako and Bolin, on the other hand, were the first to say goodbye, they lived with their grandmother and numerous cousins in a comfortable house near the school.

"Do you think we should tell others?" Korra asks, kicking pebbles on the asphalt with her already beaten shoes.

"Oh, sure for the information to get back in Miss Beifong's ears and she eats my liver for dinner." The girl beside you laughs softly.

"I don't think we should tell Bolin ..." Jinora added then and Asami nodded. As much as you all trusted your friends, Bolin was a blabbermouth and was Opal's boyfriend. He could release the information without even realizing it and you had no idea how Opal would react to the idea that her mother and her brother's likely girlfriend were sleeping together. "Or Mako ... Because he can never keep secrets from his brother. But I don't see a problem with Kai, although I don't see Kai caring too much about it." Kai wasn't the kind of boy who cared much beyond his lunch and Jinora.

"You know, this is funny." Korra said, eyes shining as she moved to get into Asami's arms. She rolled her eyes before placing a kiss on the top of the other girl's head, not bothering to show affection outside of school. You always thought they were the most balanced couple you have ever seen.

"What's funny, muscles?" Asami inquires and Korra looks up at her, you can tell her eyes are shining.

"We know something that no one else knows ... It will be interesting to see how things unfold from now on." The silhouette of Asami's house appeared among the others and she just shook her head negatively before placing a chaste kiss on Korra's mouth.

"See you tomorrow." She waved and you waved back before you went on your way.

"Is Baatar a cuckold name?" You try to maintain a serious attitude, but when Jinora's laughter explodes you follow, your head falling back.

"You are an idiot." You say pushing her massive shoulders.

"And you love me for that." Yes. She was right. It was because each of your friends was exactly the way they were the reason you loved them.

You smiled slightly and Jinora smiled back at you, eyes shining in the setting sun.

"LET'S GO GIRLS." Coach Bumi was a monster. It was what you were mumbling while trying to reach the pace of Jinora's long legs. This man is a monster. It was already the eighth circuit you took around the football field. Korra was the only one on the team, so she was doing more specific exercises, running with the ball from side to side. Asami was a cheerleader, as was Opal. That's why only you, Jinora, and 20 other girls are going through this morning torture.

"I told you to start running with me on the weekends." Jinora said when you finally reached her, your breath's failing and your heart's beating all over your body, your head hurts and you need to swallow to try to answer her.

"I'm going to die." You murmur and Jinora laughs out loud, her short hair already sticking with sweat on her forehead. You can only imagine what atrocity your face must be now.

"IF YOU HAVE TIME TO TALK YOU HAVE TIME TO RUN. GO. GO. GO. ONE MORE TURN." You cursed the coach with 30 different names before you stepped up, your legs not responding very adequately.

"How much detention time do I get if I throw my shoe at him?" You ask, taking another breath while passing another girl to be able to talk to Jinora.

"It's my uncle you're talking about." Jinora pretends an offended expression and you roll your eyes.

"I prefer your aunt Kya." She chokes out a laugh and shakes her head.

"If I keep walking with you, Korra and Asami will I start wanting to sit on women's laps? Women old enough to be my mother?" She has a bright smile at the corner of her mouth when she asks that question.

"Oh sure. Didn't I tell you? Homosexuality is completely contagious." You lean over to brush your hand on her back and Jinora chuckles before quickening her step. You laugh too trying to reach her with your hands outstretched.

Coach Bumi shouted back there for you to stay on the line. You ignored him.

"Hey." Korra threw a sweaty arm over your shoulders before kissing your cheek. The locker room was exceptionally full now, excepting the cheerleaders, all the girls needed a shower after training. Jinora had just entered the fifth one. "Come with me, we'll save a shower." It wasn't uncommon. You grew up with these girls and you really had no problem having a shower with them. That’s why you’re going.

You manage to get into the seventh shower. You rip off your sweaty and probably stinky shirt and shorts before turning around. Korra's naked too, turning the shower valve. When the water comes out she chuckles and pulls you under it, it's hot and the way the heated water touches your aching muscles is delicious. You close your eyes and rub the back of your neck for a brief second, then leave so Korra can get wet.

You can't help but admire how she had a marvelous back, probably the most beautiful you have ever seen, surrounded by muscles and with that chocolate-colored skin you always thought was so gorgeous. All of your friends were a work of art, but Korra ... Korra was a special case.

"Seeing something you like, Y/L/N?" You roll your eyes and land a warning tap on her shoulder. She just giggles and turns to you, water running between her breasts. "I know it's not a matter I should be ..." Korra shrugs for a moment while you soap yourself up. You frown. "But I think Jinora could have a crush on you." You choke and pour water on her, pushing her so you can rinse off.

"No, she doesn't, Korra. She's straight, everyone knows that." Korra raises an eyebrow as she soaps the abdomen.

"We were too, remember?" You roll your eyes with all the absurdity that falls in your ears. Jinora didn't have a crush on you. She dated Kai for fuck's sake.

"Everyone knows you found yourself bisexual the moment you saw Asami changing clothes. So don't be sneaky." Korra laughs out loud and pushes you back so she can rinse.

"But you would make a cute couple." You hit Korra on the back of the head before grabbing a towel to wrap up.

"Get out of this shower before everyone thinks we were fucking." Korra smirks at you suggestively and you show her the middle finger before laughing.

Professor Beifong looked quite normal in class. Not that she ever looked normal, not with that sharp body and face. But she seemed to be within normal standards for an English teacher who had the highest failure rate in high school.

She wanted everyone to pair up to read some scenes from Othello and you loved the idea, except for the fact you didn't have a girlfriend. That was why you were sitting with Mako because the couples in your group of friends had already joined together, bunch of traitors.

You sat cross-legged on the chair and started reading with Mako. He was poor in acting, that was quite clear, his speech was mechanized and not at all fluid, especially for the final scene Professor Beifong indicated you all to read.

"If you bethink yourself of any crime. Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace, solicit for it straight." He basically mutters the words under his tongue. Mako preferred classes with anything practical than reading Shakespeare plays. Quite obvious.

"Alas, my lord, what do you mean by that?" You say, the low voice of a frightened woman who has just woken up.

"Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by: I would not kill thy unprepared spirit; No; heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul." You would have laughed at how despondent his voice sounded for a scene that would have been pretty wild on a stage. It was in that instant you felt Professor Beifong's gaze on you, you settled yourself in the chair uncomfortably under the sharp judgment.

"Talk you of killing?" You ask, a low, frightened tone.

"Ay, I do." He responds in a common tone. Again you almost laugh at the lack of emotion in his words.

"Then heaven. Have mercy on me!" You tell everyone and anyone who could hear your words like that. How Desdemona must have felt then.

"Amen, with all my heart!" Mako replies and you can almost see out of the corner of your eye how Professor Beifong's shaking her head negatively.

"If you say so, I hope you won't kill me." Your tone of voice decreases an octave, a spark of hope, just for a moment.

"Hmm!" Mako replies.

You hear her heels, gently hitting the classroom floor with each step she takes closer. Nobody stops reading, but you can feel everyone's gaze on her movement, like a panther that moves calculatedly to catch prey.

"Reread the play about 100 times, kid ... Or until you understand what those words mean, whichever comes first." Mako widens his brownish eyes and practically runs out of the chair where he was sitting, going to find Opal and Bolin at the back of the classroom.

Professor Beifong sits in front of you, an eyebrow slightly raised towards you as she crosses her legs. She's wearing a pencil skirt today, with pantyhose underneath. You have no idea where to look, whether it's her calves or those big green eyes staring at you. You were always relatively decent at reading people, but she ... There's not a hint in that face to show you what she is thinking.

"It's your turn." She says clearly as she takes her copy of the play. You open and close your mouth. Swallowing.Well ... that was unexpected. Your ears get hot because you are sure that no one else is paying attention to what they are reading.

"And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then. When your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not, since guiltiness I know not; but yet I feel I fear." You say, your voice sounds stable and you don't understand how, considering how fast your heart is beating at that moment. Perhaps Professor Beifong can even feel it.

"Think on your sins." She says. Her voice in perfect cadence, echoing through the room as if she were in a theater.

"They are I love you bear." As soon as the words come out of your mouth you feel their weight. This is a woman trying to save her own life, telling her husband she loves him. This is you saying those words to a teacher. You look up and your eyes meet the other woman's. Green. Paralyzing.

"Ay, and for that thou diest." She spits out the words and the way it makes your spine shake. The way she seems to know exactly what those words are supposed to sound like. Why are your hands shaking around the thin book?

"That death's unnatural that kills for loving. Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip? Some bloody passion shakes your very frame: These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope, They do not point on me." You try to give your best intonation to those words. It's your life this woman has in her hands. She can stab you at any time, stain the bed in white sheets with your blood. Your hands are shaking a little more. You are desperate.

"Peace, and be still!" She warns.

"I will so. What's the matter?" There is a spark of hope again in your voice.

"That handkerchief which I so loved and gave you. Thou gavest to Cassio." To think that this was the reason for Desdemona's death. But how can you think about it when Professor Beifong tilts her head at you as if she is challenging you to argue?

"No, by my life and soul! Send for the man, and ask him." You know it shouldn't be the tone, but you defy her. Look for the man, ask him. It's not my fault if you are a fucking mad and jealous man.

"Sweet soul, take heed." Professor Beifong's voice sounds so comfortable now. Your heart is racing again, you feel you could wrap yourself in her arms just by the way she says those words. Your cheeks are turning red with the tremendous circulation of blood on your face. "Take heed of perjury; thou art on your deathbed." Would she have smiled if there weren't that many students in this classroom? Would she have shown you that slightly mocking smile of hers? Because you feel she would.

"Ay, but not yet to die." You feel the tip of an ironic smile in your mouth. And you weren't imagining when Professor Beifong's eyes narrow.

"Yes, presently: Therefore confess thee freely of your sin; For to deny each article with oath. Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception that I do groan withal. Thou art to die." You raise both eyebrows, you don't know where the strength of spirit comes from to whisper the next words.

"Then Lord have mercy on me!" You say with the defiance dripping from your tongue.

"I say, amen." The "amen" sounded more like "go to hell".

"And have you mercy too! I never did offend you in my life; never loved Cassio but with such general warranty of heaven as I might love: I never gave him token." You want to transmit the truth in those words, but the way Professor Beifong raises an eyebrow seems to make fun of you.

Is she Othello now? Or is she just Lin Beifong?

"By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in's hand. Oh perjured woman! Thou dost stone my heart, and makes me call what I meant to do a murder, which I thought a sacrifice: I saw the handkerchief." As if the damn handkerchief could be proof of anything. You rest your face in one hand as you look at her.

"He found it then; I never gave it him: send for him hither; Let him confess the truth." The other woman leans towards you, just enough for you to notice how her eyes are glazed. This could be fun.

"He hath confess'd." She says.

"What, my lady?" She doesn't hesitate when you change the word, not even for a moment.

"That he hath used thee." You open and close your mouth again, the heart pounding in your ears. This was jealousy that was dripping from Professor Beifong's mouth, pure jealousy. It raised all the hair on the back of your neck.

"How? Unlawfully?" You stutter the words.

"Ay."

"He will not say so." You try.

"No, his mouth is stopp'd; Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't." Her eyes shine in appreciation.

"O! My fear interprets: what, is he dead?" You murmur with concern.

"Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge had stomach for them all." She seems really delighted with all of this, paralyzing. You've never seen her like that.

"Alas! He is betray'd and I undone." The words seem to come out of your mouth so rapidly.

"Out, strumpet! Weep'st thou for him to my face?" She spits.

"O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!" You reply in the same desperate tone as quickly as possible. You were fighting. She is all over you.

"Down, strumpet!" Her breath hitches.

"Kill me to-morrow: let me live to-night!" You stutter.

"Nay, if you strive--" She is panting.

"But half an hour!" You beg.

"Being done, there is no pause." Just kill her she wants to say.

"But while I say one prayer!" It's your last wish.

"It is too late." She says the last line and something seem to explode inside of you. You feel like you're panting, even if you haven't even moved. You ended the scene so forcefully, a woman begging for life, a man ready to stab her.

He stifles her. The words fly off the page and hit you squarely as you watch Professor Beifong. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and her eyes are wide, they are so intense at that moment you cannot hold them. She looks really ready to suffocate someone.

Then you notice there are no sounds in the classroom because no one is reading the play anymore. You look around and all your colleagues are staring at you and Professor Beifong.

Professor Beifong, who shook her head negatively for a moment and then got up from Mako's chair as if someone there had a super contagious illness.

"Well done, Y/N." She says, adjusting her skirt on her legs and then walking over to her desk. You don't remember Miss Beifong praising someone. Ever. "Did I tell someone to stop reading?" She said in a promising tone, causing the buzz to return around the room a second later.

You don't know what's going on. But you know your legs are weak when you put them on the floor. Your eyes search for Korra and when you find her she raises both eyebrows at you in a silent "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" You just tried to shrug, taking a deep breath.

You read a play with Professor Beifong and by the way your fingers couldn't stop shaking. That had been the most intense thing you had ever experienced.

You read the play again with Mako, giving him some tips on where to tone his voice and explaining the meaning of some words. When the buzzer played for the biology class with Professor Kya you already had a slightly dry throat from talking.

You noticed that Professor Beifong seemed strangely quiet since the moment you read the play. She didn't interrupt anymore and was now reading something you couldn't identify because it was leaning against her desk. But her fingers were tapping rhythmically against the wood on the table.

Korra and Jinora frowned at you when they passed you and you didn't follow them. Asami just raised her eyebrows and followed the girls.

They are all gone.

Your steps are uncertain when you approach Professor Beifong's desk. She doesn't seem to notice you until you are right in front of her. The woman looks up at you, raising an aligned eyebrow shortly thereafter.

"May I help you?" You are tempted to roll your eyes. Why the hell were you still trying to be at least polite to such a bitter woman?

"I just wanted to know if you're okay." That's what you mumble. You feel stupid. Just because she read the shit of a play with you doesn't mean anything, mainly because she left you afterwards as if you had a venereal disease. Professor Beifong frowns, as if unable to identify the nature of your question. You can't blame her. It's just it was so rare to see that woman show any emotion that you're really surprised.

"Not that it's any of your business, Y/N, but I'm fine." She turns her eyes to the book she's reading, some second-year students have started to come into the classroom. "Stop talking nonsense and get to class. " You open your mouth. Why did you think anything had changed? Because of an ironic look, because of some words that weren't even hers? God, you were really stupid. You compress your lips, looking at the extremely black hairs falling over your teacher's head. Nothing has changed. You don't even know what would you do if something had.

"Have a nice day, Miss Beifong." You nearly growl before you leave the room.

For some strange reason to you, you feel her gaze burn on your back.

Petty woman.

Chapter 4

#avatar the legend of korra #tlok #lin beifong #kya ii #korra #bumi ii #bolin #izumi #opal beifong #su beifong #suyin beifong #lin beifongxreader #high school #high school fanfiction #fanfiction

112 notes · View notes

ruruness · 3 years

Text

idk what this is but

genre: smut, slight fluff in the end

pairings: felix × reader

warnings: size kink, swearing, degradation, choking kink, airplane sex (🤡)

authors note: not good in writing i srsly dont know what i wrote here but hope y'all like it. and if there are typos or misspellings i am so sorry for that

you and your whole group of friends decided to go on a vacation, take your mind off things since one of your bestfriends just got into a breakup with their girlfriend.

at y/n's home

you sighed but chuckled afterwards knowing that you would be going to the bahamas just to relax for a day, packing up all your clothes, skin care and everything else in your bags. you went to the bathroom to look at yourself, wearing a tube top with some short ripped shorts just for the summer whether. admiring yourself in the mirror you decided to take pics of yourself flexing your outfit on instagram. but that wasn't really the reason why you posted it on Instagram. you and your friends decided to suprise each other with your outfits by posting it on Instagram and flexing it to yourselves, but the real reason why you posted so early? you wanted to get your boy bestfriend's attention, alex. you've known alex since you were a kid, you both would spend time together, watch the movies, play games, and even when you both were young you took a bath together. y/n and alex were neighbors too.

enough of looking at yourself in the mirror you decides to bring your bags and head out of your apartment and inside the taxi you called which will bring you to the airport. once you arrived getting all your stuff you went in, taking all the check outs (not sure what its called, i can't remember) before heading to terminal three where you saw your group of friends. "guys y/n is here!!!" shouted one friend and immediately she comes running up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. "i missed you too" you chuckled pulling away from the hug and walked to your friends where you all catched up, talking about each others outfits. but despite that you were focused on alex's outfit. a not fully buttoned polo, jeans, his hair fixed to the side.. he looked dreamy for you. he noticed your gaze holding back a laugh "y/n you're drooling" he said and everyone else started to tease you both "I'm not drooling!" you replied giving him a death glare "don't think too high about yourself loverboy, you aren't as handsome as you think" you added and he just rolled his eyes at what you said.

PA: passengers for flight GA 762 to Bahamas, please go to gate 26.

"oh that's us! let's go" you said and you all took your bags and started to walk to gate 26, ofcourse you all were still chatting and talking about what it'd be like in the trip. once you all arrived you gave your tickets to the lady before proceeding to board the plane. while you were waiting in line you noticed a group of boys ("boys" as in stray kids).

your mouth dropped when you say felix and his whole group of friends saw you too. they waved at you waved back but with felix you marched towards him and pointed a finger at him. "why the fuck are you here?" you asked glaring at him "excuse me" he says walking closer to you but his charms never works on you and you stood your ground. "we're going on a trip, now don't say I'm stalking you because please I never planned for us to meet" he told you and you just sighed and left him there with his ego, you went back to your bags and continued to wait.

there's quite history between y/n and felix. not ex's but y/n in their photographer and everyone knew that you and felix will always butt heads when it comes to pictures. him wanting to do it again but you saying no because it looks perfect, your fight with him would go for hours. hell, you even thought he liked you because of that. why? because everytime alex would come and fetch you he would stare at you both, clenching his jaw, digging his fingers onto his palm.

at this point you knew what to do while he was looking. you decided to talk to alex, get all touchy with him, dragging your finger down his exposed chest letting out soft giggles. felix hated that. he wished it was him. they way alex looked at your especially with your outfit made him even more jealous of the situation making you victorious.. for now.

"y/n and alex stop flirting!" they said and you laughed "i don't flirt with him." you responded holding your bags again as you got on the plane and headed to your seats. you and your friends were separated seats and some weren't, but you all were near. you got a window seat and once you arrived you saw felix on the first seat. great. he was your seatmate. you rolled your eyes letting out a sigh as you placed your bags on top, your tube top was exposing your tummy which felix was lowkey looking at, looking at all your curves making him bite his cheek from inside. once you were done you walked over him "excuse me" you said trying to work your way through since it was tight because of the reclined chairs. he stared at your ass wanting to spank it and when you looked back you saw him looking so you decided to tease him and lower your ass more. hearing him sigh you moved your butt in small circles letting out a chuckle before sitting down.

"i knew it. you like me dont you?" you asked looking at him with a smirk "what?! no. don't get ahead of yourself y/n" he replies and you chuckled "the way you looked at my ass says otherwise" you mumbled as you get cozy in your seat. seeing the seatbelt button lit up you wore the seatbelt and braised for impact as the plane started to move. you held onto the seats as the plane ascended, heavily breathing and felix just laughed at you so you kicked him with your foot. "it's okay baby, i got you" he whispers to your ear making a shiver run down your spine because he knew when he called you baby he has that impact with you, he knew calling you baby made you weak. you brushed the feeling off when the plane was steady now and finally letting out a sigh of relief when it was over.

hours later you fell asleep and felix just watched you sleep, your cute face made him soft and he just smiled but when he saw alex coming up he became serious. "hey, i just gotta talk to y/n, something important" alex says and started to shake your body waking you up but felix stopped him "let her sleep, that can wait." he said loudly scaring alex as he his voice got deeper but you woke up "stop felix, im awake. lets talk alex" you said sleepily. you got up and followed alex to the outside of the bathroom in which felix looks at your both. "y/n i know were bestfriends but.." he pauses looking at you and boom, he kisses you on the lips. his hand went to your butt and grabbed it squeezing it tightly. taking you and felix by suprise felix was mad but before he could do anything to stop you pushed alex away. "stop i like you but kissing and touching me without my consent? just to tell me you like me? no, I'm sorry alex. but just no." you said and walked back to your seat, ignoring felix you covered yourself with the blanket of the airline and started to cry. felix was mad standing up to walk to alex he punched his stomach hard and gave him a death glare before he ran to the flight attendant and ask for a first class seat and she said there was 2 available, he used his fame and they gladly gave it to him. he took your bags and gave it to the flight attendant for her to place and he shook your body. "c'mon let's got out of here" he said making you confused with snot still on your nose he took your hand and pulled you off your seat "hey!" you shouted as you both walked to the first class seats. you were amazed by it and can i just say it was full privacy, you both were on the same row so he lead you to yours, explaining it to you before he left you there and went to his.

it was like paradise you felt extremely happy about it, watching a movie asking for champagne and room service but.. something was missing. you had a fancy seat, you watched movies, champagne, everything but you felt that something was missing. you opened your door to knock on felix's door which he gladly opened it to see you. he smiled at you "hey y/n. how are you?" he asks "im fine don't worry, can i join you?" you asked and he fixed his chair for you to sit beside him. now these seats were only for one but since it was a big spot he sat on the floor in front of you and closed the door so no one would hear hour conversation with him.

the two of us decided to talk, keep up on what's happening in which boosted your mood, learning more stuff about him. we even started to lowkey flirt and get touchy over ourselves, his hand giving my thigh a gentle rub of comfort which made me red but nothing that serious.. yet.

End

OKAY THAT'S ALL BECAUSE I'M LAZY TO CONTINUE IT. PART 2 HAS THE SMUT SO JUST WAIT I GUESS. i hope y'all liked it and enjoyed reading it. I'll do a part 2 next week or next few days. and for the airplane seat just search in yt cheap first class seat y'all might find what i mean. thanks for reading <3

#felix smut #stray kids #stray kids imagines #lee felix #stray kids smut #smut #fluff #skz #skz smut #felix imagines #kpop smut #stray kids scenarios #felix scenarios

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agentkatie · 4 years

Note

Cullen/Shepard coffee shop AU?

This prompt is *squints at drafts* 84 years old, but after joking about it for so long I’ve finally written it! Enjoy!

The whole thing is below the cut, or alternatively you can read it all over on AO3.

5,394 words, in which Cullen repeatedly orders coffee despite Shepard’s flagrant misspelling of his name. Rated M for Shepard’s singular ability to lower the tone.

- - - - -

Cullen squinted at the blackboard behind the counter, struggling to make sense of the menu. When the Iron Bull had suggested grabbing coffee outside of the office Cullen had been hesitant, keen to continue his work at his desk, but for the sake of getting to know his new colleagues he had relented. He now regretted that decision. The artisan coffee shop across the street was too small and too loud, the haze of chatter making it difficult for him to think and the rich aromas invading his senses, and he longed to be back at his desk with a simple, pronounceable cup of tea.

“Great, she’s got her Antivan flatbread in again,” Bull said, inspecting the glass cabinet full of cakes and muffins with great interest. “Made your mind up yet?”

Cullen glanced at the indecipherable list of coffees once more before shrugging his shoulders. “I think I shall just have something back at the office.”

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Cullen said. “My choice in coffee is just generally less…”

Bull smirked at him. “Interesting?”

“Pretentious.”

“Hi!”

The sudden bright voice behind him made him jump, and his heart sank as he swivelled around to find one of the shop’s employees behind him: a small redhead in a coffee-stained apron and a name badge which simply read Shepard. Her eyes bore into him, one eyebrow arched as she regarded him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement, and in any other circumstance he might have been impressed by her ability to intimidate with just a look; as it was, he only hoped she wasn’t about to put salt in his coffee.

“Shepard’s House of Pretentious Coffee,” she said, stepping behind the counter and fixing him with a smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How may I help?”

“Ah — forgive me,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt the telltale prickle of embarrassment flushing his cheeks. “I did not intend—”

“Of course not; that would have been rude.” She turned to Bull, her smile softening into a more genuine one. “Hey, Bull. Who’s your friend?”

“Shep, this is Cullen,” Bull grinned back at her, clearly amused by the situation. “He’s our new city editor. Cullen, Shepard.”

“And what can I get you?”

Cullen took one final look at the menu above her head before resigning himself to being undoubtedly her most boring customer all day. “One black coffee, please. To go.”

“Sure. Any specifics?”

“How specific can you get with a black coffee?”

He meant it as a genuine question but it came out derisive and flippant, and she shot Bull a look of clear chastisement for daring to bring such a philistine into the shop. “One black coffee, then. Bull? The usual?”

Bull nodded. “And some of that flatbread.”

They moved to the side as a new stream of customers entered, most of whom he recognised from the office, and though Bull chatted idly to him Cullen found his attention instead drawn to Shepard. She set about brewing their coffee quickly and efficiently, humming a half-tune to herself as she worked, the broad smile and easy manner she offered each new customer far warmer than it had been towards him — and he fleetingly wished he hadn’t been so him, so that he might have seen that smile properly for himself. Still, she was pleasant enough when she handed their drinks over, and his coffee tasted good, the perfect mix of bitter and sharp; he almost considered ordering a cake to go with it, but restrained himself, figuring he’d annoyed the woman enough already.

It wasn’t until he was outside and walking back towards their offices that he glanced at the side of his cup, and saw the name she’d scrawled there.

“I think I upset her.”

“Who, Shep?“ Bull asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Cullen nodded. “Nah. She’s got thick skin.”

“She wrote ‘Colon’ on my cup.”

Bull snorted with amusement as Cullen held out his cup as proof. “Well, she also likes a bit of conflict.”

Cullen groaned as the prickle of embarrassment rushed back to him, this time for the impression he’d created with his new colleague. “Maker’s breath,” he said, taking a long gulp of his drink in the hope it would hide the colour his cheeks were turning.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bull told him, chuckling as he clapped him on the shoulder. “There’s plenty of coffee in the staff room.”

—

Cullen’s mornings started earlier than most. He left his flat each day before the trickle of commuters could give rise to the full stream, the tubes quiet save for the rattle of the rails, just he and a handful of bleary-eyed businesspeople committed to such a routine. He’d intended to head straight to the office as usual, giving him a few solid hours to work before the noise and bustle descended, but as he passed the little coffee shop on the final stretch he felt compelled to go inside.

Because Shepard’s was the name of the shop. He groaned as his eyes landed on the name, not having realised he’d insulted the owner the previous day and feeling even more foolish for it. It would only be a matter of time before he’d be cajoled into going again, either by Bull or someone else in the office, and so he figured he might as well get it out of the way — and, he hoped, if he apologised now maybe it wouldn’t be so uncomfortable later.

And besides, he could do with a cup of coffee.

Despite the early hour he wasn’t alone in the shop, though it was far calmer, the muted conversations of tired workers cut across by the clanging of spoons against mugs. Shepard however appeared fresh faced, seemingly deep in thought as she arranged the day’s pastries in the cabinet.

He hadn’t noticed on their first meeting just how pretty she was. Now, as he hesitated by the cash register and hoped she’d spot him there, it was hard to think of anything else — hard not to be taken in by her wide brown eyes, and the crimson hair carefully weaved into a braid, and the charming splash of freckles across her cheeks. He supposed he’d been too distracted by his own tactlessness before to pay such things any mind, but he wasn’t sure being distracted in this way was better.

At length she glanced in his direction, her look of surprise quickly shifting to a more neutral one. “Hi,” she said, giving him a wan smile as she moved behind the counter. “Black coffee again?”

“You remembered.”

Her smile widened a fraction. “It’s not a hard one.”

He cringed internally as she started on his order, because of course she remembered the man who’d insulted her business and his boring black coffee. “I wanted to apologise for what I said yesterday,” he blurted out. “I was being…”

“Pompous?” she suggested. “Ignorant? A pain in the ass?”

He frowned at her, his remorse flickering. “Are you like this to all your customers?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised anyone comes back.” She smiled at him again, but it was a different one this time, a mischievous grin which invited him in as a co-conspirator, and he just couldn’t help but return it. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take it as a challenge. I’ll have you ordering little cinnamon sticks in your coffee before the year is out.”

He scoffed before he could catch the impulse. “I highly doubt that.”

“Are you like this to everyone in the service industry?”

He was about to apologise for a second time, cursing himself for his immediate return to boorishness — but then he caught the mirth in her eyes, and how she’d reflected his question back at him, and he hoped he could say something she’d appreciate more. “Yes. I’m surprised anywhere lets me in.”

She grinned again, with a soft laugh this time, her demeanour relaxing further as she returned her attention to his drink. “So — city editor, huh? Where did you work before?”

He was briefly surprised that she’d remembered such a trivial detail, but recovered himself quickly. “Uh— freelance, mainly. I’ve been looking for a permanent post for some time.”

“That’s a step up.”

“I know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fortunately Mr Trevelyan was willing to give me a chance.”

“Marcus is a good guy,” she said, an unmistakable fondness in her tone now. “You know, for a twelve year old who’s somehow running an entire newspaper.”

“I am sure he’s older than he looks,” Cullen chuckled. “How do you know him?”

“Your building is half my customer base,” she said with a shrug. “If your paper ever goes out of business then so will I. Pastry?”

“Uh— yes. Maybe.” He didn’t want a pastry, for he rarely ever ate breakfast, but he answered without thinking, struck by a ridiculous urge to keep talking to her. “I suppose that’s also how you know the Iron Bull?” he asked as he inspected the selection she’d laid out in the cabinet.

“No, actually. We go to the same gym. He’s my boxing partner.”

He looked up at her, eyeing her critically now, unsure how or why a woman a head shorter than him had teamed up with a Qunari who towered over them both. “That seems a little… mismatched.”

“You don’t think I can take him?” she said, arching an eyebrow at him as though daring him to contradict her. He held his hands up in surrender, not wanting to return to her bad books — or find out whether she could take him too.

“I just meant you are clearly in different weight categories.”

“You sound just like our instructor. He’s also a pain in the ass.”

He let out a snort of laughter, an unexpected and completely undignified sound he would have been embarrassed about if only she hadn’t smiled in return, and why he was amused by this woman’s oddly cheerful insults was beyond him. “Oi! Jar!” a voice interrupted them, and he pulled his attention away from Shepard to find an elf with a haphazard haircut roughly pushing a tray of mugs onto the counter. “Twice. Don’t think I didn’t hear you before.”

“Ass doesn’t count.”

“Does too. And does three.” Shepard cursed again as she pulled a handful of coins from her pocket, shoving them into a half-filled jar on the counter labelled tips/swears. “Four,” the elf told her, and with a groan she threw another coin in. “And when you’re done flirting, you said you’d help with the tables.”

“I forgot you ran the place,” Shepard grumbled, but the elf merely blew a raspberry at her before returning to her work. “Give me a shout when you’ve picked,” she told him. “The cannoli are great.”

She left him then, alone save for the strange fluttering in his chest which had erupted at the word flirting, and it became painfully obvious why he was browsing pastries and laughing so obnoxiously. He had a crush on her. How utterly predictable.

And she’d written Colon on his cup again.

—

He returned several times a week after that, either by himself in the mornings or with a colleague who’d pestered him into lunch, though in truth he didn’t need much persuading — for the coffee was good, and Shepard’s warm smile each time she greeted him was better. It was a frivolous, pointless crush, yet one he was content to indulge in, taking pleasure from their small snippets of conversation each day without expecting anything more. She continued to get his name wrong, and he wasn’t sure whether she actually thought his name was Colon or if she was just trying to wind him up; he’d almost corrected her, once, before her fingers had brushed his as she’d handed him his drink, and his ability to form sentences had fallen straight from his mind.

The elf, Sera, he suspected knew of his infatuation, for each time he entered the shop she rolled her eyes and muttered something he couldn’t quite catch to Shepard, and it might have scared him off if Shepard didn’t seem to brush off whatever she’d said with ease. The rest of her staff were nicer to him, though variable in their ability to manage the place; the queues were twice as long when an elf from Antiva was serving, and it was rowdier when the man everyone addressed as ‘Hawke’ was around, and the Krogan she’d employed for the grand total of a week had turned the area behind the counter into a war zone. Yet he found himself growing to like the chaos of the place, sometimes even staying to drink his coffee inside — and the fact that Shepard would chat longer with him when he did so was only part of the reason for that.

A month had gone by at his new job before he knew it, and Bull insisted on going out for lunch to mark the occasion; Cullen agreed with very little protest, knowing by now that lunch only ever referred to one place. Shepard’s was busier than usual, and it took several minutes for them to reach the front of the queue, though Shepard herself looked unfazed by the bustle, greeting them both with the same, beautiful smile she always wore.

“Back already?” she said to Cullen, who’d already picked up a coffee that morning. “It must be my lucky day.” She often spoke to him like this, with casual comments somewhere between mockery and flirtation, and she meant nothing by them but his stomach still did a ridiculous flip in response every time. “You boys staying in?”

“Yeah,” Bull said. “Usual for me, Shep. And—”

“The flatbread; I know. How about you? Same again?”

Cullen hesitated, torn between his stubbornness and the curiosity he’d been surprised to discover in himself, before resigning himself to the choice he’d been considering for a week. Even though he knew he’d get teased for it. “Actually, I was— I thought I might like to try something else.”

Shepard’s face lit up as she broke into the broadest grin he’d ever seen her wear, leaning on the counter and propping her chin on her hands. “I knew I’d get you,” she said, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. “Go on then. What’ll it be?”

“I— uh—” he floundered, having planned up to this part but never being able to settle on a choice in his mind. “What would you recommend?”

“I don’t think you and me have the same taste, Mr One Black Coffee,” she told him, which was a better name than Colon but which still made heat prickle at the back of his neck. “But if it were me, I’d go for a caramel macchiato.”

“Ah. That may be a little…” he trailed off before he said the word ‘sickly’, but the roll of her eyes told him she knew where his sentence had been going.

“I’ll make you a vanilla latte, then. That’s pretty much you in drink form.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why do I feel like you’re insulting me through the medium of coffee?”

She gasped, putting her hand over her chest in mock hurt. “How could you think I would do such a thing? To my valued customers?” He was on the verge of pointing out her persistent misspelling of his name, but then she winked at him and he all but forgot what his name was; instead he descended into awkward silence as she made their drinks, all the while growing increasingly annoyed at Bull’s easy banter with her.

The pair made their way over to a free table by the window, and it was only when they were seated that Cullen registered Bull’s smug expression. “What?”

“You’re into her.”

“Wha— no,” Cullen said. “Why would you think— I barely know her, and she doesn’t— I wouldn’t even—”

“Sure,” Bull cut off his increasingly inarticulate protests with a knowing smile. “Nice sprinkles.” He said it as though agreeing to chocolate sprinkles was an egregious declaration of love, and Cullen glared at his coffee, mentally making a note never to accept Bull’s offer of lunch again. “She’s single, by the way. And fun. You should ask her out.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you harass all of your colleagues like this?” Bull merely scoffed, leaning back in his chair as he began to eat his flatbread, and Cullen knew for his own sake he should drop the subject but there was still one thing on his mind. “She keeps spelling my name… poorly,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing as he said it. “Could tell her that I’m not actually named after the large intestine?”

“Nah,” he grinned at him. “You’ll have to tell her that yourself.”

“Maker’s breath.”

He took a sip of his coffee, surprised first by its sweetness and second by the fact he didn’t hate it, and his gaze involuntarily drifted back to Shepard; she’d started serving someone else but caught his eyes even so, her expression curious as she mouthed good? at him.

Good, he mouthed back, which was perhaps overstating it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.

Good, she repeated, her smile lighting up her features once more, and his heart fluttered in his chest in response.

Maker, but it was a beautiful smile.

He shook his head to clear it from the absurd hopes which itched at the corners of his mind, taking another sip of his drink and determinedly avoiding Bull’s gaze. Perhaps it was time for him to start making coffee at home.

—

Cullen’s resolve to visit Shepard’s less lasted until 7 a.m. the following morning. During the final stretch of his commute he found his feet leading him into her shop of their own volition, and he would have been annoyed with himself if only he hadn’t been greeted with that smile.

“Morning!” Shepard called out as he entered. “So, have I converted you? Another latte?”

He’d made it halfway through his latte before it became too sweet for him, but he finished it regardless, not wanting to leave a half-finished mug behind. Still, he didn’t like her quite enough to keep ordering it. “Ah— no,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for the time being.”

“Really? Are you really going to break my heart like that?” He simultaneously wished she’d say more and less things like that, equally flustered and captivated by her casual flirtation, and it was that exact reason why he ought to spend less time around her. “Go on then, enlighten me: what didn’t you like about it?”

“I— will you be offended?”

“Depends if it’s the coffee or how I made it.”

“Well, I— the vanilla was a bit strong. And there was too much milk; I could barely taste the coffee.”

“So you actually like black coffee?” she asked. “Rather than you have no fu—uh, no clue what the others are?”

He chuckled at her last-minute recovery, eyeing the tip-slash-swear jar which grew fuller with each passing day. He couldn’t be certain what or who contributed the most to it, but from Hawke and Sera’s constant screeches of ‘jar!’ across the shop floor he had a fairly good idea. “It may be a bit of both,” he admitted.

She considered him for a long moment, seemingly deep in thought with her lips pursed and brow slightly furrowed, and he feared she was about to denounce him as a lost cause. “Alright,” she said just as the silence began to grow uncomfortable. “I know what we’ll do. I’ll give you your black coffee, but I get to experiment with different beans.”

“I like the ones you’ve been using.”

“Oh really?” she arched an eyebrow at him. “Which ones are they?”

“I…” he trailed off immediately, because of course he had no idea about the beans — and she knew it too, the corner of her mouth quirking up in amusement as he struggled not to seem a total fool. “The ones on the left?” he guessed, glancing at the large jars behind her.

“Nice try,” she told him. “I’ll figure out your roast first, then I’ll move onto the blends. But you’ll have to pay attention to what they actually taste like.”

“This sounds a lot like homework. I don’t think I signed up for this.”

“Well, too bad — I’m bored, and you’re cute when you make your little frowny face into your drink.” He somehow managed to choke on the air he was breathing, letting out an inelegant splutter as she broke into an impish grin, and he was now certain she was saying these things to solely to fluster him; he did his best to glare at her, yet that only seemed to spur him on. “That’s the one. Absolutely adorable.”

“Maker’s breath,” he grumbled, sure his whole face was bright red by this point. “I am going to stop coming here.”

“No you aren’t.”

He was going to protest, but he noticed for the first time a hint of blush creeping up her neck, and the way she idly fiddled with a loose strand of her hair — and, for a brief moment, he wondered if maybe her flirtation wasn’t malevolent after all. “No,” he agreed. “I’m not.”

She held his gaze for a fraction too long before breaking it, turning from him as she began to prepare his order, and for one flash of insanity he considered taking Bull’s advice after all. An offer of food outside her place of work was hardly a great commitment, and if the worst came to it he’d just have to avoid her, or perhaps relocate—

“So, how’s work coming along?”

She spoke before him, addressing him over her shoulder in her usual easy tone as she continued to work, and he winced internally as his chance firmly passed him by. But perhaps that was for the best. “Uh— good. Thank you.”

“I read your article the other day. About the new housing policies in Lowtown.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised — and more than a little pleased — that she’d gone to the effort. “What did you think?”

“I think you could’ve thrown in a few jokes.”

“It is a notoriously humorous subject.”

She chuckled, a soft sound that shot a renewed burst of affection through his chest, and how was it possible that he could be so enthralled by simply a laugh? “I actually found it interesting,” she told him. “And it was nice to hear about something good happening. Even if it sounds like it’ll take ages.” She turned back to him as she snapped the lid on his cup, scrawling his name — incorrectly, as always — on the side before he could make any sort of correction. “You’ve got a light roast today. It might not be… coffee-y enough for you, but you have to start somewhere.”

He smirked, unable to resist teasing her just this once. “Is that the technical term?”

“It’s the term I use for the dumbasses who can’t decipher the menu.”

His smirk widened. “Jar.”

She swore again, far more colourfully this time, thrusting a handful of coins into the pot before handing over his drink. He handed over his money in turn, but he hesitated on the spot before leaving, struck once more by that ridiculous urge to keep talking to her. “Thank you,” he said. “I — uh — I shall let know what I think the next time I come in.”

It sounded weak even to his ears, but to his surprise she didn’t seem to mind. “Don’t leave me waiting too long,” she told him, fixing him with a devastating smile.

He had to leave then, because if he stayed she was going to see him turn bright red again, and as he stepped into the sun and glanced at her scrawl on his cup he realised two things. First, that if she’d read his article, then she knew very well how to spell Cullen. And second, that he was completely and hopelessly enamoured with her.

—

The light roast was, as Shepard had predicted, not to Cullen’s taste, but he found the medium far more appealing; emboldened by her success she began experimenting with different blends, and Cullen looked forward to discovering what she had to offer each day. And he looked forward to seeing her, too. She laughed with him over the concoctions he’d hated, and teased him whenever he gave a particularly inept description of a blend, and she smiled at him, as always, with a sincere see you soon when he left.

He wasn’t foolish enough to presume that she treated him alone like this, or that it was anything other than a way for her to pass the time — and he knew, deep down, that how he felt would only cause him heartache in the end. Because it wasn’t just her smile, or laugh, or her beautiful, endless eyes; it was her, her very energy drawing him in with each word and action, and now he’d seen her he couldn’t bear to look away. And so he continued, with vague reassurances to himself that it remained simply a crush, despite knowing that to long be untrue.

He tried his best to avoid lunch with Bull, for he was invariably insufferable each time they set foot in Shepard’s, but there were some days he couldn’t escape it. On this particular one he’d roped Mr Trevelyan into his persuasion; not wanting to disappoint him, he dutifully followed them across the street and into the shop, hoping that Bull wouldn’t mock him too much in front of their boss.

Mercifully, Bull’s attention was distracted by the distinct lack of flatbreads on display, giving Cullen room to discuss his current projects with Trevelyan as he tried not to look at Shepard too often. Which, of course, he failed in. She’d styled her hair differently for once, her crimson hair free from its usual braid and instead piled into a messy bun, and whenever she turned the loose strands at her neck shone copper in the sunlight, drawing his attention back to her each time.

He really should have turned down lunch.

“Hey, Shep,” Bull greeted her as they reached the counter. “Where’s—”

“Don’t start with me,” she warned him, which was not her usual way of greeting her customers, but Cullen sensed she’d had this discussion with Bull more than once before. “I told you I’m not getting it anymore.”

“But—”

“Bull, no-one else buys that bread. You’ll just have to have a panini like everybody else.”

Bull made a noise of disapproval in the back of his throat, frowning at her selection of sandwiches as he muttered something vaguely insulting about customer service. “I got in something new for you,” she turned her attention to Cullen. “It’s a bit nuttier than the blends you’ve been having; I think you’ll like it.”

He was sure she hadn’t bought in anything specifically for him, but it made warmth bloom in his chest all the same, and he didn’t even try to prevent the undoubtedly dopey smile which broke across his face. “I would like that.”

“I see how it is,” Bull grumbled. “You get him fancy beans and my flatbread pays the price.”

“Yeah, well — he’s prettier than you are.” He didn’t even have time to react before she turned next to Trevelyan, which in a way was good, because he had no idea how to respond without stuttering like a fool. “Marcus?”

“Well, I like everything,” Trevelyan told her, offering her an amiable smile which she returned instantly.

“And that’s why you’re my favourite,” she replied, and Cullen tried his very best not to be irrationally jealous. “The usual, and…?”

“And…” he paused to consider the options in front of him. “The tuna melt, please.”

They waited patiently for their orders, Shepard chatting easily with them as they did, and when she handed Cullen his drink he rushed to hide the name she’d written on it from Trevelyan. Bull, however, seemed intent on ruining everyone’s day now his had been, and grinned malevolently at Cullen.

“Why are you holding your cup like that?”

Cullen glared at him as he took — what he intended to be — a nonchalant a sip of his drink. “I am not holding my cup like anything.”

“Yeah you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“What are you— oh,” Trevelyan laughed, craning his neck to see the side of the cup Cullen was desperately trying to hide from him. “Shepard, you’ve—”

If he hadn’t been his boss, Cullen might have kicked him to shut him up, but it was Bull who put a hand on his shoulder to silence him. “Hold it. Cullen’ll tell her.”

“Tell me what?”

“Nothing,” was Cullen’s knee-jerk reply, but he regretted it instantly, knowing that he’d gone far too long without correcting her — and that if he didn’t do it now then his boss would likely never respect him. “It’s just— it’s Cullen. My name.”

“I know,” Shepard told him. “That’s what I’ve been writing. Colon.”

“Cullen.”

“Colon.”

“Cullen.”

“Callum?”

Bull, whose shoulders had been shaking with silent laughter beside him, finally spoke at that, his voice full of barely-concealed glee. “Give it up, Shep. You lost.”

“You cheated,” she glared at him. “I’m not paying up.”

“I won’t make you pay if you get me my flatbread back.”

“Oh I’ll bring it back, but you’ll be fucking barred when I do.”

“Jar!” Hawke called out, pushing said jar towards her without even looking up from the drink he was making, and with two further curses Shepard threw a handful of coins in it.

“What’s going on here?” Cullen asked, realisation dawning on him as he took in Shepard’s decidedly shifty expression. “Did you bet that I wouldn’t—” he began, but his answer was clear in the way she looked everywhere except at him, and he felt as vindicated as he did embarrassed. “I knew you were doing this deliberately!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she held her hands up in surrender. “I run a terribly unprofessional establishment, although you probably should have realised that by now. Your coffee’s on me by way of apology.”

“Make it dinner, and I might consider forgiving you.”

He had absolutely no idea where that came from, the words leaving his mouth before he’d even started to think them, and he winced as the laughter in her eyes fell away. “I— forgive me,” he said, hurrying to backpedal before she banned him from her shop along with Bull. “That is— I shouldn’t— uh…”

But there was no outrage in her expression, only delight, and that faint blush he’d seen but a handful of times, and as his words faltered under her stare she filled the silence as always. “I close up at seven,” she told him. “I like that sushi place with the big fish tank.”

He blinked, once, as her words sank in, and he coughed to clear his suddenly-dry throat before replying. “I shall see you here at seven, then,” he told her in as level a voice as he could manage.

“See you then,” she grinned. “Cullen.”

He nodded to her and his colleagues before turning on his heel, keen to leave before she came to her senses, his heart beating a frantic tune as he strode back towards his office. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it, but somehow what he’d hoped for hadn’t been as impossible as he’d believed — and he might have thought he’d imagined it all, if it wasn’t for the cup of coffee grasped tightly in his hand.

He had a date with Shepard. And now he just had to figure out which sushi place she’d been talking about.

—

“So,” Bull said as the three of them watched Cullen march out of the shop. “I guess he’s not having lunch with us.”

“I guess not,” Marcus agreed. “That escalated… bizarrely.”

“Yeah,” Shepard said, unable to contain her grin at the sight of him hurrying away — and she hated that Bull had won their bet, but at least she didn’t have to hold back now. She couldn’t very well have called him Colon on a date. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna fuck him.”

[Fic Masterpost]

#cullen x shepard #cullen x oc #coffee shop au #dragon age #mass effect #crossover #my writing #mollie shepard #this fic is essentially #cullen: the pretty lady sure is nice for helping me with the coffee #shepard ordering new beans at 2am: i better get laid out of this #Anonymous #oh wow so formatting on tumblr is an absolute nightmare huh

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stevecanmakeanythingnerdy · 4 years

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Battle #25

Reatards: Grown Up, Fucked Up ( Side B )

Vs.

The Jam: All Mod Cons ( Side 2 )

Reatards: Grown Up, Fucked Up ( Side B )

The Reatards were an American garage punk band formed in Memphis, Tennessee, in 1995. Originally a one-man project by guitarist Jay Reatard, the group's sound was marked by raw, stripped-down instrumentals and lo-fi recording quality. After distributing privately pressed cassettes and EPs, the band released their debut album Teenage Hate in 1998. It was followed by this album, Grown Up, Fucked Up a year later. By that time, the group only sporadically performed as Reatard began exploring other endeavors, but in 2005 he reformed the band for their third and final studio album. Much of the Reatards' discography remains a subject of interest, leading to reissues of their work years later. Jay unabashedly credits The Oblivians as a source of inspiration for their style of crude, distorted, lo-fi garage sound. Reatard was so enamoured with the Oblivians' music, he sent their guitarist Eric Friedl some of his home recordings hon which he did everything...guitar, vocals and drumming on a bucket. How’s THAT for DIY!?). It was impressing enough to Friedl to arrange a record deal on his independent label, Goner Records. Relatively short lived as they were, though, The Reatards put out some raw, high energy, REAL MUSIC. You can hear it in the chaos. Just as quickly as the6 formed, Jay went on to other things. Unfortunately he unexpectedly died in 2010. It seems he had died of "cocaine toxicity, and that alcohol was a contributing factor in his death. Sad because after he s time with a The Reatards, he went on to do quite a few things and become a pretty prolific musician in his own right. But this, this is his humble (?) beginnings. Keep in mind practically no song is over about 2 minutes. Every bit of it intense and from the perspective of a fresh faced teenager. First song Side B is “Tonight I’ll Come”. It’s tha5 fast nasty lo-fi you love. Born in the garage and surprisingly channeled and clear, consideration given t the aforementioned recording techniques. The next jab, “Get Outta Our Way”, is decidedly more rock ‘n’ roll than punk. “Who Are You” is another quick fix while “All the Walls Are Closing in” sees a desperation and violent undertones take hold. DT shakes level intensity. “Miss You” is pretty Stooges in nature...just raw power (#seewhatididthere). “Eat Your Heart Out” follows and you can really hear the young essence in Jay’s voice here. It’s a banger that lingers though. This kid did his homework. “I Want Sex” is of course on the mind of any teenage boy but it’s a cover not an original. Meh. I like the originals better. They don’t need to do covers and the6 certainly had the material!! “I’m Gonna Break Down” is very indicative of what this music sounds like. It could break down at any moment. Now, we’ve reached the bonus tracks and an obviously different recording session. That’s the only drawback of this style. You can almost never recapture the EXACT SOUND from any previous sessions because it’s so so happenstance. “Your So Lewd” (note, it IS misspelled ) and “She Will Always Be With Me” have a nasty, distorted vibe while the final cut “Busy Signal” has more garage slop grace and goodness. It’s quick licks with sick fits. His vocals are so young and raw. Recalling Teengenerate and The Motards or X-Ray Specs. 11 songs PER SIDE!! That’s a whole album or set list for most bands! This may be a new RRW RECORD (#seewhatididthere). R. I. P. Jay.

The Jam: All Mod Cons ( Side 2 )

The Jam have been RRW contenders before and went quite far. They were an English mod revival/punk rock band during the 1970s and early 1980s, which formed in 1972 at Sheerwater Secondary School in Woking, in the county of Surrey. They get lumped in with punk a lot but really blur the line between power pop and punk with blues riffs thrown in for good measure. They also drew off the energy of bands like The Who and The Kinks for that mod sound. At the helm was Paul Weller, the heartbeat of The Jam. He went on to form The Style Council and later had a successful solo career, of which he still enjoys. Weller wrote and sang most of the Jam's original compositions, and brought that distinct snotty, throaty, often gruff, and decidedly British sounding vocals. A great example is his pronunciation of the word flowers as flars. Though they shared an "angry young men" outlook, short hair, crushing volume and lightning-fast tempos, the Jam wore neatly tailored suits where others wore ripped clothes, played professionally where others were defiantly amateurish, and displayed clear 1960s rock influences. The Jam had political lyrics, condemning police brutality ("In the City") and expansionist development ("Bricks And Mortar"). Even condemning the monarchy, pre Sex Pistols. By only about 6 months though. All Mod Cons in specific was after the initial success and had put some pressure on the band to maintain. They released a few singles first which appear on the album but the album only came after positive reactions to the singles. “Billy Hunt” has something unique in the pronunciations. I love the way his name is said “Billy, Billy, Biiiiilll-eeeee”.

“It’s too Bad” has a lovely wandering bass line that has a warm, relaxing, inviting personality. Too bad it’s so short. “Fly” contains soft and slow acoustic introductions. It builds, like a baby bird learning to flap its wings until the point of flight. I suppose that’s the point. Some good, rockin’ guitar picking and slick riffs show up in “The Place I Love”. But this side really kicks in on the next two tunes. “ 'A' Bomb in Wardour Street" was a Weller original. And one of their hardest and most intense songs, as well as the aforementioned singles. Weller cursed the violent thugs that plagued the punk rock scene over a taut two-chord figure. It became their most successful release since ”All Around The World”. The cowbell is surprisingly catchy and is one of the more rocking tunes, and of course there is a bomb exploding at the end so literal truth in advertising. “Down in the Tube Station at Midnight” was the second single and helped The Jam really regain their former critical acclaim. The song was a dramatic account of being mugged by thugs who "smelled of pubs and Wormwood Scrubs and too many right-wing meetings". Rich and textured bass really drives the whole thing. Good harmonies with thundering drums. A train interrupts the tune so as to give it a realistic feeling. Like the Clash but cleaner and snappier dressers.

Today it was The Reatards who were grown up, but fucked up in the process. They burned 107 calories over 17 minutes and 11 songs. That is 9.73 calories per song and 6.29 calories burned per minute. The Reatards earned 26 out of 33 possible stars. The Jam put out the call for all Mod Cons. They took 20 minutes to burn 128 calories over 6 songs. They averaged 21.33 calories burned per song and 6.40 calories per minute. The Jam earned 14 out of 18 possible stars. Today it appears The Jam are RRW winners!

The Jam: “ ‘A’ Bomb in Wardour Street” (live, baby!)

https://youtu.be/9T9bqQh-gFI

#Randomrecordworkoutseasonseven

#Randomrecordworkout

#randomrecordworkout #records #vinyl #punk #garage rock #jay reatard #reatards #90s music #90s #randomrecordworkoutseason7 #the jam #peter weller #70s #70s music #mod

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indulgence-so-divine · 5 years

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Cybersix: Mini Look

A/N: Since I’m in so deep with no chances of escape I felt like writing something for Cybersix. It’s not shippy or anything. It’s not that great either but whatever. I may write more if I get comfortable with it. Consider it my contribution to this hella great series that deserves so much more than it gets. Ps. Sorry for any grammatical errors or misspellings.

There's a time when the moon

reveals its face through the clouds. I let out a sigh

and want to cry out loud.

Meridiana is quiet this time of night, shops closed and people taking refuge in their cozy homes surrounded by family. Preparations for winding down and children being tucked safely into bed, wandering towards dreamland and uncaring to what the next day’s events will be. Protected in their ignorance.

Humans aren’t aware of what lurks in the shadows, the ever creeping pressure of creatures wandering around in search of their masters desired treasure. But she knows better.

Pulling on the suit always feels so natural, the weight and feel of it against skin. Gloves secured around hands like a protective layer of paint. It’s nice to be herself, but it can be lonely too. Feelings of discontentment and hopelessness are ever present these days. A weight that never seems to lift but gains tons as time carries on.

Heels click against the ledge of the window, cape billowing around in the wind behind. She releases a sigh, eyes catching the moon in its full reflective glory. She wonders if it shares her pain. Wonders if it qestions it’s existance until anxiety and melancholy override any other feeling. No one seems to understand.

Her past - fragmented pieces mangled together to form a semblance of truth - is shadowed by what she knows now as apposed to then. Her present is going steady but in a repetitive loop; Aidan by day, lavishing young minds with the intellect of literary genious and how it impacts lives or just giving them a glimpse into past minds. Then going home and becoming Cybersix, hunting for survival and aiding a few helpless people along the way. As Adrian It’s freeing to a degree; being able to be accepted and fit in amongst society. To draw warmth from friends who surround him. Sadly they do not detect the lie.

But is it really lying? Adrian is as much a part of her as she is him. They are two sides of the same person. And the future...

It lays ahead, uncertain and daughting...

But deep in my heart,

I feel love so alive.

From the depths of my soul,

I know we will survive.

Rooftop to rooftop, an endless sea of buildings outlined by the moons light and contrasted against the inky blackness of the sky. Gliding effortlessly through the air and landing gracefully, like a bird. It’s easy to shake the troubles away when engaging in a chase, lifting oneself to unreadable heights. The fixed idea is moving quickly through the streets unaware of her presence but she needs to catch him soon. Sustenance is a must at this point, she can feel herself running low, it’s draining affect stilting her efforts more and more the longer it takes to reach it. The sting of electricity shooting up her arm catches her off guard and nearly makes her loose balance and tumble off the high purchase of a large building.

Breathe.

Then she moves, agile and smooth, jumping down and landing a sharp heel to the back of its neck and knocking it to the ground. To many it would appear wrong: fighting what are essentially her siblings or kin, killing them for their sustenance. But she needs it to survive, their lifeblood and power source born from that vile human; or is it more accurate to described him as a monster?

This cursed fate is like chains binding her down, but it’s her life.

And she wants to find what it means to be alive, not just a functioning existance. Cybersix, one of the many creations of Dr. Von Richter, goes in to finish off the fixed idea, snuffing out its spark of life as quickly as letting out a breath. It disintegrates, a pile of clothes and steam left in its wake along with a tube of glowing liquid.

I'm the one they would break

In their greed and their pride.

Feeling restored after drinking it down, Cybersix bleeds into the shadows in order to retreat back home without any more confrontation. The sharp ache inside has died away and left her feeling better physically. Yet, mentally she’s waging war with herself, a never ending array of internal conflicts that don’t rest.

Raising her hand up she looks at it intently: Five fingers.. slender, soft, but capable of lifting inhuman amounts of weight.

She moves it to rest against her chest, feeling a steady thrum beating against her palm. A heartbeat.. So like the rest of them but also no where close. She isn’t one of them and yet she feels, she hurts, she survives, and she cries.

Looking back out the window she sees the moon again, and wonders if she will ever know the answer..

Will she ever know peace?

But deep in my heart,

I feel love so alive.

From the depths of my soul,

I know we will survive!

#cybersix #adrian seidelman #reflection #technically a charcter study?#dont know how to tag #Had to use the opening lyrics #Divine writes

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williford01hoover-blog · 6 years

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Coaching For Making Money Online - the Actual And Wrong Way

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pengiesama · 7 years

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what do you call a penguin with berseria who has two thumbs and is playing it more

did i do that joke right

(we’re getting into real big spoiler territory for berseria so proceed with caution)

while on a pointless plot detour to get medicine for the pirate ship, we learn via Magilou planning on forcing Bienfu to drink her medicine for her that, if malakhim drink medicine or potions, whatever they drank also affects their bonded exorcist. thus, when Mikleo drank the aphrodisiac potion, it hit Sorey too. and now you know.

Laphi compares having a person as a vessel to being carried around in a box. and now you know.

the Videl and Laphi friendship is a cute little sidequest. i'm glad Laphi's found someone to nerd out about history and archaeology with. just tough it out for a few millennia and you'll have Sorey and Mikleo as your new nerd fathers.

i never liked that magic gun nonsense in Zestiria and kind of rolled my eyes at it being back here. at being forward here? prequel grammar. it being a gun is just so incongruous to the setting, and not in a good way -- i know it's brought up that it's such a "mysterious-looking thing" but it's just a big clunky glock with some shit taped on it. plus, its powers are so vaguely-defined that it's essentially a deus ex machina fix-it button for a whole bunch of random shit. it makes you more powerful when you shoot yourself in the head with it, also it de-brainwashes malakhim when you shoot them with it, also it dispels illusions when you shoot them, also if you tell a seraphim to climb in and be ammo you can kill god and it kills the seraph except when it doesn't and that was never a concern, what are you talking about. so yeah not happy that it's back

they did explain how zaveid got it, though, and gave a little backstory on him -- he used to be a brainwashed slave malakhim, and when he was sent by the Abbey to assassinate Aifreid, Aifreid shot him with that gun (which he picked up while pillaging a faraway land) and it debrainwashed him. because reasons. then Aifreid entrusted him with it to keep it out of the Abbey's hands when he was captured. so thrilling.

i really miss the cute character banter in the enemy book from Zestiria -- each and every enemy had its own unique commentary by the party. Berseria's enemy book is completely vanilla; just enemy stats.

one of the many other things i miss from Zestiria is that there's literally no reason to ever stay at inns unless the plot forces you. that's something i've always grappled with in RPGs in general -- why bother ever staying at inns when you've got healing spells, healing items, or healing save points? Zestiria's forced integration of inns into the skit system definitely wasn't without its flaws, but it at least made me visit them.

berseria: a whole story quest abt finding someone who can read the ancient tongue even a little sorey: i taught it to myself at age 8 lol

the ancient tongue is also known as "Ancient Avarost"; it's very complicated with a grammar structure that revolves around swapping words around on the page and trying to figure out things in context. thus it is all the more impressive that Sorey taught it to himself, reading AND writing AND speaking, fluently, at age 8

what is with all the misspellings in skit dialogue and in speech bubbles. what even is QA. we just don't know.

Grimorh is soooooo far superior to Bienfu as the token "cute mascot" party member it's not even funny. she's an elegant old lady scholar Normin who tutors Laphi and constantly takes potshots at every party member when they're being annoying. kill+skin Bienfu and replace him entirely with Grimorh.

Laphi asks Magilou about the books on her belt, she immediately starts sexually harassing him and essentially forces him to lift and look up her skirt. please kill the skit writer.

i really love the discussion and closer look at the elemental lords/Empyreans! Zestiria didn't have much on them (for good reason, as worship of the elemental Empyreans was basically extinct even in Berseria's time), but in Berseria we visited a whole seaside culture and temple dedicated to the worship of Amenoch, the water Empyrean. they explain that they attribute the typhoons that temporarily routed the mainland's takeover of their land to Amenoch's doing.

Amenoch's temple is so pretty! it's underwater with lovely waterfalls and the bow crest everywhere! but it's a water dungeon so, as is a proud gaming tradition, it is a pain in the ass without a guide!

there are so many child sacrifices in this universe. like, so many. there have been at least three in this game alone, not even counting Zestiria's track record.

it wouldn't be a Tales game without an 8-year-old girl in fetish wear. who constantly shrieks and cries and talks in cutesy baby words while the camera zooms in on her exposed chest and crotch. fucking vomit.

Laphi has harnessed the power to alter the flow of time and uses it on petty shit like fighting rogue wildlife. sweet baby.

writing out the dealio on the plot for my own reference and for anyone interested. the Empyreans are the four elemental seraphim lords mentioned in Zestiria. there is a fifth Empyrean known as the Nameless Empyrean, or Innominat. he is an ancient dragon Empyrean with eight heads, and eats malevolence. the elemental Empyreans oppose him. malevolence, as we know from Zestiria, is naturally generated by humans at all times simply because they experience emotion, and eventually turns them into monsters. this is not common knowledge in Berseria, and is in fact a secret that the malakhim have deliberately hidden from humanity, as they fear it would make everyone lose their shit. it is taboo to speak of it and Eizen only eventually explained after the party ganged up on him about it. because humans don't know about malevolence, they assume the "daemonblight" is a mysterious curse/sickness; instead of humans simply falling to their own negative emotions. malakhim are not capable of generating malevolence unless they've already turned into dragons, and it is highly toxic to them. the earthpulse is essentially the lifestream from FF7 -- it's the churning energy of the planet, and is where all naturally-born malakhim come from. there are leypoints around the planet where the earthpulse is especially strong, and magically-sensitive people and civilizations in the past have built temples and structures on top of them to honor the malakhim/Empyreans as gods. the eight heads of Innominat are known as therions, a subtype of daemon -- Innominat chooses people/animal/things to turn into therions, based on their reciprocity to his power. if a therion is killed, a random individual gets immediately transformed into a new one to take its place. the Abbey's plan to awaken Innominat revolves around plonking therions on top of earthpulse leypoints to absorb malevolence from the surrounding citizens. the therions pass the malevolence on to Innominat, who will eventually awake once he's fully fed. removing the therion from the earthpulse point stops the feeding frenzy, but the disruption in the flow of malevolence will almost immediately make all humans in the surrounding area succumb and turn into daemons. so far, we have three of eight therions: Velvet herself, a bug we found in the forest, and that obnoxious half-naked eight-year-old. yes, i'm serious, this is the destructive force we're up against. we're currently looking for the others to stop Innominat's awakening (which i'm sure we'll fail to prevent, and i hope the eight-year-old dies or puts on some fucking clothes jesus christ bamco), Laphi has the ability to search for them through his compass. once Innominat's feeding tubes are cut off, i assume we trek on back to the Abbey's clubhouse to let Laphi knife fight him again. Laphi got him to a standstill last time and i've been stuffing herbs in his mouth since then so i think we'll do fine.

#i guess this is my personal tales of berseria tag now #i guess this is my personal tales of zestiria tag now

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