#( but let it b known she IS on the brain. has been for a while JHBDSF )

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Just My Type

This one is for @henderdads with her prompt - accidental first kiss. Happy Valentine's Day, Cass! I hope this will bring you some joy!

Steve Harrington wasn't known for sharing his problems with others. He was the one who resolved all your issues, not brought more to the already very overcrowded table. The kids needed some stability, and as much as he loved Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, they weren't exactly fit for that role. The girls would soon leave Hawkins for college (Steve was so proud his heart could burst), and Eddie had his hands full with the whole finishing high school thing while still recovering from being nearly eaten by demobats.

No, Steve had this handled. He was the least fun of the four, but reliable. As far as the kids knew, the only issue Steve had was his inconsistent and ever dramatic love life, nothing else.

When Steve's eyesight started getting worse, likely from all those concussions, he handled it on his own. No need to worry anyone. A secret pair of glasses for home, prescription sunglasses for driving (and yeah, he looked cool in them, despite the kids' grumbling), and that was it. They didn't need to know. Everything was working out just fine. He was great at faking things.

At least until that fateful day. But we’ll get there. First, something about Steve’s love life.

See, Steve was dating around. He had been feeling anxious, unfulfilled, and the more he thought about it, the reason wasn’t Nancy for once. Even stranger, he knew he was over her, but the feeling of needing something and not being able to get it wouldn’t leave. So he got out there, used his charm, and prayed he’d finally find the one.

So far, it wasn’t working out. Most of the girls he went out with were lovely, kind, and gorgeous, but there was always something missing that made him break things off before anyone could get hurt. He had a type - curly or wavy dark hair and even darker eyes, but hey. It wasn’t his fault that Nancy had been the closest to an ideal relationship he’d ever had! That had to be the reason, he thought. Maybe his concussed brain decided that curly hair meant a good girlfriend.

“It’s not like I can help it,” he lamented, pretending not to see Eddie’s amused smirk. They had become good friends after their Upside Down near death experience, and as Dustin never failed to mention with a truckload of disgust, they were now practically inseparable. “Who doesn’t like curly hair? They’re making it this whole thing. I’m over Nancy.”

Eddie snorted and tossed his chemistry textbook somewhere towards the pile of stuff that might have included his desk. “Uh-huh. Sure thing. So this new one-”

“Jenny.”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Yes. This Jenny. It’s just a coincidence that she’s a dead ringer for Wheeler.” He nudged Steve’s side with his bare foot. “Come on, Harrington. Be honest with your only adult friend.”

Steve kicked him in retaliation. “Wow, rude. I’ll let you know, I have Robin!”

“Buckley is so much more than a mere human, Steven. She doesn’t count, she surpasses our species. Whereas I,” he announced to the broken ceiling fan, “am very human, non-judgmental, and I have seen you go through half a dozen ladies of the same type since the spring break. So?”

Laughing, Steve kicked him again. “So nothing. She doesn’t look like Nancy. Hell, she looks more like you - her hair is darker, more wavy, and she has those really pretty dark eyes. And she’s tall. Are you saying you’re my type too?”

Eddie rolled over and batted his eyelashes. “I don’t know, Steve, am I?”

Steve hit him with a pillow in the face. If he hadn’t been so busy laughing, he might have just noticed the tinge of longing in Eddie’s voice.

..

To recap: the two things that led to the most important day of Steve’s life were a) his tendency to date a certain visual type of girl; b) his unwillingness to admit to anyone that he needed glasses.

Here’s what happened.

Steve, being both a good friend and a good boyfriend, took Jenny to see Eddie perform with the Corroded Coffin. Was metal his favorite music genre? Not really, but he wanted to support Eddie, and Jenny didn’t seem to mind, she even agreed to wear a Corroded Coffin t-shirt from Steve’s wardrobe.

Steve found himself enjoying the concert way more than he’d expected. The alcohol helped, sure, but it was so heartwarming to see Eddie in his element, scarred, but still the same. Steve had even learned to recognize the lyrics within all the noise, and even if he wasn’t ready to discuss that with Eddie yet, Steve considered them surprisingly deep. He really hoped Eddie would make it big, he was a wonderful guy, and life owed him big time.

After the concert, Jenny excused herself to the bathroom, and Steve went to grab some beers. His head was pleasantly buzzing, and even though his eyesight was more blurry than usual, he found his way through the crowd with ease.

He put down both beers and wrapped his arm around Jenny’s waist. He’d lost track of time at the bar, she must have come back in the meantime. And so, as they tended to do, he touched her cheek and turned her face into a quick kiss.

Steve noticed several things at once.

First, stunned gasps from the Corroded Coffin members, along with Robin’s snickering.

Second, Jenny’s cheek felt different. Almost stubbly?

Third, it was the best damn kiss he’d ever had.

And fourth, before the kiss could end, he felt something wet - the beer he’d just brought - hit his head and back, along with an angry shriek.

What happened next was a blur, and not just because he had trouble seeing it. He was vaguely aware of a second Jenny hitting him with her purse and storming off, Robin trying to control her laughter, and the person next to him, also drenched in beer? That was Eddie.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry!” Steve instinctively grabbed napkins and started drying off the beer in Eddie’s hair, on his jacket. “I...OK, not the best time to tell you, but I’ve noticed I can’t see shit, and normally I wear glasses, but I couldn’t take them with me because I look like a baby accountant or something, and I didn’t want you guys to worry. And uh, you probably know, but your hair looks kinda like Jenny’s, and I’m really sorry I did that without asking.”

Eddie was motionless, letting Steve fret over him. He was just staring into the distance, cogs turning in his brain.

Robin, bless her heart, re-directed the Corroded Coffin guys to grab a mop and a dry t-shirt from Eddie’s van for both Steve and Eddie. After that, she started ushering the unlucky pair towards men’s bathrooms, to “wash off that smell before it’s too late.” She snapped her fingers in front of Eddie’s eyes, getting him to move.  

As she shoved both of them towards the sink, she grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him close. “Since you are freshly broken up, I would strongly suggest you think hard and fast about why you made that mistake, Steve. I can’t spell it out for you, even if it would be easier for everyone involved.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Yeah, uh...I think I might know.”

“Might?”

“I definitely know.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m so dumb. That...even if I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t fair to Jenny. Or the ones before.”

Robin smiled at him and, not unkindly, patted his shoulder. “They’ll get over it. In the meantime, your man looks like he’s about to faint. Don’t mess this up, OK? I couldn’t stand to see you brooding again and going through another set of Eddie substitutes.”

After she closed the door behind Steve, she grabbed the mop and started cleaning the mess. She could say it would cost Steve a lifetime of driving her around, but she knew he’d do that anyway.

..

In the bathroom, Eddie was slowly finding his words. “You...you kissed me.”

Steve took a step towards Eddie, trying not to spook him. “Yeah. I know it sounds like bullshit,” he said, pushing down the bitter memories of that word, “but I really mistook you for Jenny. I can’t see much, especially when it’s dark. I’m really sorry, Eddie.”

He couldn’t see Eddie’s face, but his voice didn’t sound fine. The music from the club drowned out most of the quieter sounds, but Steve could swear he heard a sniffle. “Of course,” whispered Eddie and he seemed so sad. Steve wanted to punch his own face. “Of course it was a mistake.”

Eddie straightened his back and wiped at his eyes before turning towards Steve. “Don’t worry, Steve. It happens. I mean, you should feel more sorry for yourself, you’re single again, and if Jenny or anyone from the club talks, they’ll think you’re a-”

“I don’t care.”

With a bitter chuckle, Eddie shook his head. “You don’t get it, Steve. You have a reputation to protect. Our lovely and pious citizens of Hawkins expect something like that from me, they know I’m...wrong. But you? You’re the golden boy. Steve, you should think about what this will do to you.” He wasn’t looking at Steve, his eyes were glued to the floor. Steve didn’t need a hint to know why Eddie was blinking so rapidly, why he sounded so strained.

He reached out and grasped Eddie’s hands. “Eddie. I really don’t care. I won’t feel sorry for what someone might think. The only reason I’m sorry is that I kissed you without you agreeing to it, in front of people, because...” He took a deep breath and squeezed Eddie’s hands. “...because I wanted our first kiss to be something special. Not a case of a mistaken identity caused by my shitty eyesight. And I wish I could have done it differently, that we wouldn’t be in this dirty bathroom, and sticky and disgusting from that beer. But even if I’m sorry for not asking you, I’m also glad. Because it made me realize something really important.”

Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, still wet with tears, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. A hint of hope. “And what is that?” he asked.

Steve moved several wet strands of Eddie’s hair from his face. He looked just a little bit like a wet rat, but to Steve, he was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And he couldn’t wait to bury his hands in Eddie’s hair properly, when it was freshly washed. Maybe smelling of Steve’s shampoo. That was a thought.

He stroked Eddie’s cheek and for the first time in so long, he felt puzzle pieces falling in place. This was right.

“I realized that I didn’t answer you when you asked me,” he smiled and pulled Eddie closer. “You, Eddie Munson, are exactly my type.”

[hadersversion]

‘tis the damn season.

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader

warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown

your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.

i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.

somethings never change.

being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.

i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.

"jj?" i ask, confused.

"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.

i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.

my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.

"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.

"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.

"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.

we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.

"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.

"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.

"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.

"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."

"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.

"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."

i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.

almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.

the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.

"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.

"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.

"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.

i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."

we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.

"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.

i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."

they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"

i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"

"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."

"it has." i sigh. "it really has."

we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.

"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.

i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.

"y/n?"

until that moment.

i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.

i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.

i turn around and look at the man.

"rafe."

he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.

we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.

"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.

i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."

he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"

"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.

his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."

the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."

"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.

"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.

"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.

a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.

"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.

i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.

he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"

"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.

i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."

"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.

he stands there quietly, i got him.

"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.

"are you for real?" i ask.

"what? i'm being nice." he says.

i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.

"away from you." i say, not looking back.

i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."

i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"

he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."

"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.

"you're drunk."

"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"

"y/n." he tries to plead his case.

"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."

he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.

"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.

"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"

"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."

i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.

i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.

once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.

"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."

i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.

no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.

then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.

rafe: hey

i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.

rafe: can we talk?

rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.

rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn

rafe: but i miss you.

rafe: i wanna see you.

i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.

y/n: sure, give me like an hour.

y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.

my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.

i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.

we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.

he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.

"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.

"sure."

"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."

i just nod at him.

"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."

"are you drunk? high?" i ask.

"w-what?"

"are you not sober?" i ask again.

"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"

"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.

"i'm being serious, y/n."

i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"

he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."

"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."

"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.

"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.

he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."

my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"

"every word i said."

my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.

his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.

i needed more.

i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.

he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."

"shut up." i was itching for more.

"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.

"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."

"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."

"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.

"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."

"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.

"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."

"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.

"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"

"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.

"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"

this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.

"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.

with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.

"show off." i say, out of breathe.

i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."

i smirk and shake my head.

he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.

"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.

"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.

"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.

"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.

"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"

"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.

his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.

i felt on fire.

i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.

"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."

"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.

"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.

"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.

"i bet."

i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.

"well, are you clean?" i ask.

"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.

i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.

his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.

i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."

i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."

i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.

with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.

we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.

"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.

"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.

"all the fucking time."

i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.

"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.

"'tis the damn season." he replies.

i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.

"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."

i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.

"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."

i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.

he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."

"rafe." i say.

"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."

i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."

"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.

"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"

"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.

i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."

he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."

[severance-posting]

Buckle up, this might be long, I have things to say:

Cobel doesn't know they kissed, that iMark has had romantic sexual experiences with both Helly and Helena, that Helena stalked him to a Chinese restaurant, or that his first memory from his post Zufu brain surgery sesh is a memory (likely a full sense memory) of a tender romantic sexual moment of him giving Helly an orgasm hours before.

What she does know is iMark and Helly had a flirtation. She knows he kept trying to stick his neck out for Helly. She knows iMark was the one that first saved her from hanging, and how much it affected him. She knows he took Helly for little Mental Health Walks. And we know Cobel was watching as he interacted with Gemma-as-Ms. Casey.

But what we know now post Sweet Vitriol is that

A) She was raised in the Lumon/Eagan cult

B) Severance the concept was her idea and her science, and it was stolen from her

C) She didn't get to experience the joys of youth as a child laborer. No first romances, no play time, just work.

Not only did Lumon stick her in middle management of her project, but the Board rejected any of her theories that Reintegration was even a possibility. Of her own science.

So, the Innies become her lab rats.

We don't know how much of "Ms. Casey, Lumon Therapist" was her idea, but Cobel watched with bated breath as Mark interacted with Gemma-as-Ms. Casey.

She plops a not-dead version of iMark's Outie's wife in a tank with iMark, and his crush, a vulnerable-from-lack-of-autonomy Helly, to "Observe" Helly in a post suicide attempt world, noose bruising still visible. This is a pressure cooker. The pressure cooker wasn't for Helly or Ms. Casey, while findings from them would still be interesting. It was for Mark.

Will love transcend severance?

Will Mark protect Helly like he does, or will he instinctually be pulled towards Ms. Casey, and let Helly's discomfort slide?

These are her Sims.

She would give Ms. Casey Gemma's candle to use in her sessions. Cobel would have Mark and Ms. Casey meet for one last time before Ms. Casey's decommission with said candle there. Emotional hot points to illicit an emotional response from Mark.

A candle he wouldn't notice was missing.

Cobel watched on in rapt attention during this session, and when Ms. Casey was "observing Helly" because its a soap opera SHE constructed. Her science come to life. Her childhood musings in reality. It's almost like she wants to be wrong because she wants to believe love is real.

Cobel is a MarkGemma Truther.

"They will discard you like a skin husk." = Helly's an Eagan. They only know how to hurt you. Ask how I know.

"I care for you!" = My blorbo. I've manipulated your life so much please don't my methods unnerving and creepy. Please don't destroy my ship.

If love transcends, her original science is wrong/flawed. She's wrong, but love is real. It also means The Board ignoring her own understanding of her science is ruining Lumon's product, and she'll have something to wave in their faces. If it doesn't, she's right, her science is flawless, and they followed it well.

She's looking at the wrong part of the experiment. Coming at it with MarkGemma shipper goggles, focusing on Mark's angle because he's active on her personal floor the most, and she knows Gemma isn't dead. She's known about them for the entire time both Gemma, and subsequently Mark, have been with Lumon. She's probably had them interact countless times before.

Hell, she LIVES next to Mark to continue her "research"/soap opera.

She just didn't account for Mark falling for someone else. She didn't account for Zufu.

She doesn't know that iMark knows more than her about not just Helly, but Helena. AND Both Scoutie and Cobel don't know about The Ortbo. In the 106 Chip Flood, he sees flashes FROM the ORTBO tent, but specifically flashes from when iMark was getting flashes of Gemma in the tent.

We know Scoutie is selfish, but Cobel doesn't understand love, that's why they were both VERY Nearsighted with the prospect of iMark giving his life, as well as the lives of Helly and every other innie, for Gemma's life.

They condescended iMark about HIS OWN experiences.

Okay... yeah. Idk how to end this.

I need season 3 to come soon, but also to take its time because the seasons are short and I want this show to last.

[lovesodakid]

sworn to secrecy 3

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

1 2 4 5 6

summary: chris and y/n have known each other, pretty much their whole lives. y/n has always had a crush on chris. chris always viewed y/n as ‘nate’s little sister’ until one day, he realized, she wasn’t so little anymore…which nate sees..in which. he does not approve of whatsoever. (“brothers best friend trope”)

warnings: heavy mentions of toxic household (pretty detailed). shouldn’t be anything else

____________________________________________

“Y/N! get your ass down here now!” i hear my dad yelling from downstairs.

i quickly run out of my bedroom, to downstairs. once i reach the bottom of the staircase, i see my mom, dad, and nate all in the kitchen.

as soon as he hears me, my dads eyes land on me the second my foot touches the kitchen floor.

“well well now,” he begins. “y/n…why don’t you tell your whore of a mother-what a slut she is.” he speaks loudly, body swaying back and forth.

my eyes widen as i look over to nate, who also shares the same look as me, but his eyes are directed to my dad, who’s holding my mom by her hair as her knees are planted on the floor.

“a-what?” i ask, tears threatening to form on my waterline.

“she’s too young to know what that means!” my mom’s voice breaks in sobs.

my dads eyes quickly shoot to mine.“well..y/n. it means your mother here, decided to have an affair with her boss.” he speaks, almost condescendingly as he slurs his words.

“i-“

i shoot up out of bed, sweating bullets as i pick my phone up to check the time: 4:32am. i set my phone down, letting out a hard breath as i rub my hands over my face. the memory i thought had been blocked out by my brain, resurfacing. i was 9 when it happened. that was the worse i had ever seen my dad, and he was of course, drunk that night. thankfully, it hasn’t been that bad sense. but he still has his moments. like tonight persay.

once i realize how excruciatingly dry my throat is, i push nick’s comforter off of me, taking a glance at his peaceful state. his lips slightly parted, letting out soft-quiet snores here and there. i smile softly, glad that one of us is having a good night sleep.

i place my feet on the flooring of his bedroom, making my way out of his room. causing the floor to squeak a couple times. once i turn my head back, making sure i didn’t wake nick up, i make my way to the bathroom.

after splashing my face with cold water a couple of times, i grab a towel and dry it while taking a couple deep breaths in and out. i stare at myself in the mirror for a second, before walking out of the bathroom, heading downstairs.

-

the second i reach the kitchen, i immediately make a b-line for the fridge, grabbing a cold water from the fridge, downing it.

“what are you doing up?”

“oh my-!” i quickly turn my body around, shutting the fridge door as my eyes come in contact with an icy blue pair. an icy blue i could stare into for hours on end.

“you good?” chris asks.

i quickly clear my throat. “yeah-sorry. just scared me, that’s all.” i say, realizing i didn’t even see him sitting at the island counter when i came in here.

“sorry kid.” he laughs. “but why are you awake?”

“i-um..i just had a nightmare. that’s all.” i say, slowly making my way to the island counter. once i reach it, i lean my elbows on it, as he sits across from me on a stool.

“ahhh,” he hums. “wanna talk about it?” he asks cautiously.

i quickly shake my head ‘no’ as i look down at the marble design of the counter.

we both sit in silence for a minute. it’s a comfortable silence. just both of us enjoying each others company, until chris clears his throat to speak again.

“well..if you ever wanna talk, just don’t forget im here. okay?” he speaks softly as he looks up at me.

i slowly nod as i return the glance.

silence takes over us once again. except this time, it feels a little different as we’re staring into each others eyes. neither one of us daring to look away. for a second, i think his eyes may have dilated, but its dark in the kitchen and im half asleep so, who knows.

although that’s quickly broken when we hear a third voice enter the kitchen.

“hey chris-y/n?” nate says. “what are you doing?”

im quickly broken out of the hypnotization from chris’s eyes, as mine make my way to my brother.

“i..had a nightmare.” i softly speak.

“what about?” he asks as he walks more into the kitchen, now standing beside me.

“um, nothing much.” i lie. “just one enough to wake me up.”

nate’s eyebrows furrow as he seemingly tries to read my face. “well, you should go back to bed. we have school in the morning.”

i nod as i tell both him and chris goodnight.

as i walk out of the kitchen, i make my way to the stairs. i hear chris and nate mumbling about something, but i can’t make out any words.

-

as soon as i’m back in nick’s room, i climb back into his bed, laying next to him as i let the warmness of the comforter coat my body, almost lulling me back to sleep in a way.

————————————————————————

a/n: this one’s a lil more deep, which i apologize. but we’re kind of getting somewhere 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ sorry these chapters have been so short !!

[skellymom]

Hey Skelly

You're taking requests? Oh I'd love to ask for one.

Could you please do a one-shot involving a reader and Hunter after Omega gets seriously injured on a mission (Bad enough to wind up in a Bacta Pod) and the reader has to comfort and reassure Hunter that Omega will be OK?

tysm, GenericFicer Hugs

@genericficerblog NICE! Another ASK!!! Thank you!

"THE INCIDENT"

The Bad Batch Hunter x Reader One Shot

Per more information (not included on this particular message):

So the reader is a male battle medic. It's all platonic The reader was a medic on Kamino. He had taken care of Omega after particularly bad tests (She has the scars to prove it) and he's protective of Omega because of her past with the Kaminoans

Word Count: 2.1K

Warning: Star Wars canon violence, angst, swearing, explosion, physical injuries, coma, mention of human experimentation by the Kaminoans.

I was tasked to hang back with Omega and Tech on board the Marauder. Hunter EXPRESSLY ordered us to stay put. His thinking was to only bring the members necessary for the job: Hunter at the head of the group, Echo next to him and to share logistics on comm with Tech, Wrecker as the “heavy”, and Crosshair as lookout/cover fire. 

The job was technically low risk...but Hunter started having those “feelings” of his just before landing at our target.  

Omega protested when he told her to stay on the ship. She had been looking forward to going on a mission for awhile. Many a time she stayed behind on Pabu with Shep and Lyana. Since her rescue from Tantiss, Hunter was dead set against her going on any dangerous missions. 

Hunter’s words were “You’ll have plenty of time to fight with the Rebellion in the future. Won’t stay young forever.” 

She bristled at those words. Then forgave him immediately after. 

They LOVE each other so much! 

But ever the doting dad, Hunter relented this time. She had eventually wore him down. 

Oh...getting ahead of myself...who am I? 

Hello. I’m Y/N. The Squad Formerly Known as Clone Force 99’s Medic/Backup Heavy/Or Whatever They Need Me For. I can patch up just about ANYTHING with the bare minimum of supplies. Sometimes my methods are unorthodox, per Tech’s opinion, but effective.  It’s saved our butts a few times. So, they let me come along on every mission. 

Plus, having known and taken care of Omega while on Kamino helped. 

And the fact that Crosshair took a liking to me immediately sealed the deal. We both speak fluent sarcasm. 

But...back to the mission... 

“What’s taking SO LONG?” Omega fidgeted in her seat. 

“My guess it is due to Hunter detecting an anomaly, they are taking their time.”  

Tech and I were attempting to play a few rounds of Sebacc. I’m HORRIBLE at it. He thinks he can help me improve my game. I’m struggling currently. 

“Safety first. No need to rush into trouble...especially since we seem to find it easily enough.” I threw down my cards. 

Tech glanced at them and frowned.  

“I totally messed up that hand too, huh?” 

“Well, it’s not a strategy I would have used...” Tech trailed off. 

“You’re being too nice.” 

“Shall I explain in detail the best plan of action for this hand?” 

“Can’t stop you. Just infodump me anyways. Maybe I’ll retain SOMETHING this time.” I LOVE to tease Tech. It was difficult in the beginning. Most of it just went over his head. 

This time, he just grinned at my cheekiness and launched into it. 

Omega continued to fidget in her seat behind us. 

“...and THAT is why you should have held onto those cards until the end.” Tech finally finished his tutorial. 

“I... THINK I got all that? My brain hurts now. How ‘bout I switch with Omega.” 

“That will be sufficient.” Tech looks up and glances behind me. 

Then his face froze. 

I quickly swung around to see Omega missing from her seat. 

“OMEGA???” I called through the ship.  

Nothing. 

“Oh SHIT!” 

“INDEED!” Tech immediately radioed Hunter that Omega slipped out of the Marauder and is probably enroute to them. 

I grabbed my med pack and ran out of the Marauder before he could stop me. 

Omega used to sneak away A LOT on our previous missions. Probably one of many reasons why he wanted to keep her back on Pabu until she matured a bit more. Of course, he feels guilty...the Kaminoan’s keeping her locked up in their home world. He didn’t want to clip her wings.  

“TOLD YOU to stay on the ship!” Hunter’s voice fills my ear comm. 

“I can’t just assume that Omega finds you somehow and is safe.” 

“Don’t need ANOTHER person in danger. Go back to the ship.” 

“Well...is Omega with you?” 

“...no.” 

“She SHOULD have been by now...AND I’m NOT going back.” 

Hunter’s tired sigh. “Well, then... 

He never finished his sentence. 

A flash of intense light... 

I awoke thirty feet away from where I was standing. On my back. 

My head hurts...all I can hear is high pitched whine in both ears. 

Sit up dazed and look around at EVERYTHING obliterated and on fire. 

Torn remains of whatever was left of the trees and outbuilding I was near... 

...two small legs sticking out from under smoldering wreckage. 

I lurch up to my feet and limp over. Grab the unidentifiable thing crushing Omega and try to pull it off her. 

It’s not budging. I frantically keep trying. There's NOTHING else in this world except me and this huge THING on top of her that I cannot seem to move. 

Sweating, my hands are raw, my eyes are wet, there is blood dripping down my face... 

Is it lacerated? Could it be my eardrums are ruptured? I don’t know.  

I just know I HAVE TO GET THIS THING OFF OF HER! 

Push, pull, kick... 

Then the wreckage flew off her like it weighed nothing at all. 

Wrecker is next to me. He freed Omega and put a hand on my shoulder. Hunter grabs her up. Echo is trying to speak to me. 

But I can’t hear anything at all. Just that damned whining in my ears.  

I can lip read though... 

He’s telling me to get back to the ship. 

Echo runs ahead with Hunter.  

Crosshair grabs my arm, dragging me along. He looks extremely worried. 

Whatever happened or if we even achieved our objective, I don’t know. 

Hunter sets Omega down on a bunk. He’s beside himself emotionally.  

I can feel the Marauder take off world.  

My hearing is still impaired, but the whining is less pronounced. 

I gently nudge Hunter aside and open my med kit. Pull out the bacta...but it won’t be enough... 

...she needs a tank. Her burns and lacerations are too numerous and severe. Still breathing and regular heartbeat, but unconscious.  

I am doing the best I can with what supplies are on hand. Putting her prognosis out of my head for the time being. 

We make a pit stop at a Rebel Base on a hidden moon. One with an extensive medical facility.  

Echo radioed ahead. As soon as Tech lands, the staff enters the ship and whisks Omega away. Hunter and Wrecker run after them. Echo runs in another direction...I’m assuming to report his intel to the Rebels. 

I stand at the bottom of the gangplank and watch them leave.  

Tech stares at me strangely.  

I shrug...and a horrible twinge of pain erupts from my upper back. My face feels sore too. 

Crosshair mumbles something. 

“WHAT???” I must be screaming but can’t hear anything. 

He mouths “your back” and points.  

I try to reach behind me to feel it.  

Tech grabs my hand and nods “no”. 

They both immediately took me to medbay. 

I’m treated for multiple facial lacerations, on top of first-degree burns. Missing some of my eyebrows. And, like I guessed bilaterial ruptured eardrums. 

Oh...and the kicker: A 12-inch piece of metal sticking out of my back. Had NO idea it was there.  

Adrenaline is a HELL of a hormone. 

Tech left to confer with Echo over intel and our next move. 

Crosshair stayed with me during the surgical removal of the metal. I demanded to be awake and requested a mirror to watch the whole procedure. 

The doctors were horrified but complied with my request. 

Crosshair held the mirror. He also asked to keep the metal once removed...to frame and hang up back on Pabu. 

“You're NOT like the other kids.” I quip. 

“Neither are you.” he winks. 

They won’t let me walk out of medbay. It’s the sedatives and painkillers, of course. I wouldn’t let me walk, either.  

Crosshair pushes me in a hover chair. We head over to the bacta tanks to check on Omega. 

She’s stripped down to a medical binder and med panties. Tubes to feed, breath, and eliminate. Floating in the tank, the extent of her injuries is very apparent: Second degree burns, multiple lacerations, a broken arm, a few broken ribs, and a head injury. Her hair had been clippered off entirely for cleanliness and most of it was charred.  

Omega was also put in a medically induced coma to aide her recovery. 

Hunter, sitting in a chair, has his arms around the bacta tank. He’s basically hugging it with his forehead resting snugly against the glass. 

“I shouldn’t have let her go. Blame myself.” He mumbles. 

Wrecker puts a hand on his back for comfort. “She’ll be ok Hunter. They said we got her here in time.”   

Then he looks shocked when he sees my face. 

“OH MY MAKER! Where are your EYEBROWS?” 

Still can’t hear very well, but I can DEFINITELY lip-read Wrecker. 

“Look what medical pulled out of him!” Crosshair proudly dangles a clear plastic bag containing the metal shard. 

Wrecker is transfixed. 

Hunter is devastated. “I MISSED that??? Didn’t even register you were injured...looked right at you...” 

Like a man lost and questioning EVERYTHING. His focus had been solely on Omega. 

“Aw...they couldn’t kill me. Don’t think I’ll be attracting any ladies with my perpetually surprised look though.” Trying to lighten the mood. 

“You can’t hear ANYTHING, can you?” Crosshair looks me in the eye. 

“Barely...why?” 

“You’re so LOUD.”  

“You should talk, Wrecker.” Crosshair sneered. 

“That’s how I know!” Wrecker rolled his eyes at his brother. 

Hunter looked even more guilty, hanging his head. 

“Hey guys...” 

Wrecker and Crosshair stopped whinging at each other. 

“Can I have some time alone with Hunter?” 

They both nodded and wandered off to find Echo and Tech. 

I nudge the chair over closer to Hunter and look at Omega through the glass. 

She’s so tiny in that big tank. So beat up and bruised. The lighting in the tank leaves NOTHING hidden. Even the old scars from her time on Kamino. The “experiments” according to the Kaminoans. Things they did to her before her brothers took her away.  

Things she never really spoke about with even Hunter. 

Things I only know about since working so closely at the facility on Kamino. A little girl who needed someone to comfort her. This was before her brothers were ever aware of her presence. 

“Her prognosis is very good, yes?” I broke the ice. 

“The docs say she’ll have to spend close to the next month in this tank.” Hunter’s voice cracked. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I knew better! Why is it SO HARD for me to say no to her???” 

“Because you love her. You know she’s strong. You also know she’s still a child. If it makes you feel better, she snuck out ALL the time on Kamino. The Kaminoan’s would ask me to go look for her constantly.” 

“More of an argument to have left her on Pabu.” 

“You REALLY want to be at fault, huh?” 

“I’m responsible for...” 

I cut him off. 

“YOU CAN’T CONTROL EVERYTHING, HUNTER!” I winced. Moving too much with my exasperation. The sutures on my back were straining...and wet. 

Hunter stood up, glancing at my back. He could smell it. 

“Strike through?” I asked. 

“Yeah...just a little blood. You need to lie down and rest.” 

“That’s gonna be hard. Not supposed to lay on my back...and my face isn’t going to feel great against the pillow. How about I just stay sitting in this chair with you?” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I know you don’t want to leave her alone while she’s in this tube.” 

"Thank you. Honestly...I should say that more often. Y/N...you've really saved our butts a lot of times...I'm grateful to have you in our squad...family." Hunter cracked a small smile.

"Of course! Man...you are MY PEOPLE!" I beamed back. They really are. I'd go to the ends of the universe for every one of them!!!

Hunter's smile was so warm and genuine. But it lasted very briefly. His face became pensive again.

He was silent for a while...thinking. 

“Technically she’s asleep? Is that what a coma is like?” Hunter asked. 

“Kind of. The doctors are monitoring ALL her vitals constantly. And if anything is off, they can immediately see to her needs. Besides, the coma is just for the next 24-48 hours due to her head injury.”  

“I see.” 

“She’ll come through this. You clones were made to withstand a LOT of physical trauma. Stuff that would kill a regular human.” I added. 

“It’s not necessarily the physical stuff I’m worried about.” Hunter motions to the faint old scars on Omega’s body. “When she does wake up...she told me she has fears about being in a tube like an experiment.” 

“Tell her she has nothing to fear.” 

Hunter looks at me strangely. 

“People in a coma can still hear. Talk to her, Hunter.” 

He nods. Then directs his voice to the speaker on the bacta tube. 

I sit back and relax in the chair, watching this man...a brother, a parental figure speak to his child. 

He’s doing the best he can with what he has. 

We are all doing the best we can... 

...hanging on with HOPE. 

It’s the only thing holding the galaxy together right now... 

PLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, AND REBLOG!

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't just comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! <3

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 31-35 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

The chasm in their understanding of what makes Vivi tick.

The stakes in this scene seem low and the twins are just overdramatizing the danger for the sake of unwinding and being silly, right? Yesn't. One wrong move or word, and they join those leafmen scattered all over the place.

Finding the line between bad actor and caring sister.

Of course Alisaie wants to hang out with Vivi. She doesn't want to admit that to herself, let alone risk looking desperate in her brother's eyes. Tsundere moment. It's been a while since they've. Had a rest. Between rescuing Minfilia from Laxan Loft and making their way to Il Mheg. Alphinaud, at least in my hc, isn't as physically durable, but definitely as stubborn and proud as Alisaie, so he wouldn't simply agree to chill out for a moment. Alisaie makes him tunnel-vision her bad (?) acting and openly throwing the game for supposedly selfish reasons, while she gets what she wanted, AND forces Alphi to sit his ass down.

I’m sorry but I really need to point out that her ahoge did, in fact, launch into the stratosphere.

More under the cut~

....Can you blame her tho.

Vivi’s shirt’s a bit more plain than usual, he needed to wear something practical under his crystarium guard disguise in Laxan Loft.

The flashback in episodes 32-33 has no dialogue per se, only monologues, to emphasize how disconnected they are.

Technically both vivis are real, but Exarch’s memories are definitely heavily skewed. He’d only known Vivi during the CT quests, in this story it’s a month or two in summer, during which literally nothing bad happens, sans the finale. Alisaie, however, got lucky to experience Vivi during Stormblood, his absolute low.

Exarch and Alisaie sit on opposing sides of the bias, one wears pink glasses, delusional and bluepilled, the other one’s (heh) redpilled, perhaps a bit too much. Hence Alisaie feels the whiplash when her jerkass woobie friend suddenly acts mellow (back in the present), still she has the expertise to tell that he’s not affected by a fae spell or anything.

Full page because I’m so proud of the paneling here, simple as this trick is, these speech bubbles blocking Vivi from sight neatly illustrate that Alisaie just babbles away, paying no heed to his state.

With the power of flashbacks and stories told by one character to another, I’m able to revisit any moment in their past whenever I please. I didn’t commit to a linear story because there was no story! Well, just the outlines. Vivi as a character began in ShB because I really needed to fuck that old man, I started writing down the lil scenes loosely connected by the canon plot, and that’s how the whole concept of Fragments came to be.

It may not work for everyone, but my secret sauce’s that you don’t have to begin at the beginning. Make a guy, put him in a situation, then ask a lot of whys and hows to expand his story backward and forward.

Keeping the past events for later allows me to flesh things out at a leisurely pace. This Alisaie flashback is actually an iteration, originally I’d planned to have Vivi stand alone and just think the broody thoughts, and that was supposed to be the transition between ARR and ShB arcs. I grow more writing muscle as I go, and I’m infinitely happy that I avoided that angsty infodump.

Okay this’s becoming a big fat tangent, but I wanted to acknowledge another pitfall: overusing a character as a mere exposition tool. I wouldn’t do this for, say, Tataru or Y’shtola. Being THE flashback haver makes sense for Alisaie because a) they’re close with Vivi, b) her worldview and opinion on Vivi are changing in ShB, she’s a smart lil thing who would slow down and reflect when appropriate, c) she has a distinct arc in my comic, and knowing what’s going on inside that elf brain will give you the most entertainment out of her actions in the present moment.

I’m new to writing and very excited about the story that comes together as we speak, so I like to show around my kitchen. Please lemme know if you enjoy this. I don’t know if I’m parroting the boring 101s, or if this’s actually useful to someone.

“Meals made for me” YEA HE CAN’T COOK. Well, barely.

New sharp outfit, procured by our most magnanimous branch. The “tail” will help me draw the upcoming Titania fight, it adds fluidity to his movements.

*presses the upgrade button*

There's a lot happening in his head that's not being shown. I hope at least some readers wonder who or what he leaves behind in his mind's eye in this moment. What we know for sure is that he doesn’t take too long to make a decision.

Not sure if subtle, but I did try the breadcrumbing:

Unfortunately for everyone, including himself :’>

I love this one especially because, instead of telling that about himself, Vivi asks Ardbert, kinda gauging his wol experience against the other wol’s.

Episode 34 really shook people awake and reminded that we’re off the msq rails with this story. I loved the response it evoked in the tags, lots of thoughtful rambling about being a hero.

Fae temptation jokes and all, but Feo Ul really says what Vivi needs to say out loud to himself.

Normalize prioritizing self-care over world-saving.

Vivi genuinely cares about Feo Ul. That’s unusual. It might be my storytelling mistake that I didn’t show much of his typical indifference before this scene, unless you count the episodes where he does this

instead of hurrying the fuck up with the msq. Or, perhaps, it’s okay, since this gets plenty of attention later on. You won’t miss the fact that he isn’t eager to set himself on fire to keep others warm. Feo Ul just lucked their way into his heart, and, as a result, he approaches the Titania fight with unusual consideration.

/srs mode on ^

Remember how I just talked about developing this story in all directions at once? I planned Vivi to have this demeanor during the early days of writing Fragments. Like, most of the time. He’d be a broody bitch, get slowly thawed by Exarch’s kindness, and... That’d be it. In veeeeeery broad strokes, this’s still the case, but the current iteration has much more nuance.

Vivi and Titania’s likeness has no deep meaning, take it or leave it. Vivi cares about appearances, he was bound to notice this. Feo Ul can see souls, visuals are secondary to them. But Vivi, being himself, must doubt and question everything.

He moves fast and thinks a lot as the adrenaline speeds him up.

Notice how he lets Titania speak and remains quiet. This’s common in most fights: he doesn’t indulge with chats or banter those who he sees as mere targets to destroy. There’s like a point of no return, if an enemy poses no threat and can be talked out of dying, Vivi will speak, sadly he enters this fight knowing that Titania has to die no matter what.

Once he’s familiarized himself with the situation, and realized that Titania’s more than just a mindless husk, things change up a bit. But for now, he just runs in circles, analyzes the situation, and overthinks about their visual resemblance :’>

Sorry not sorry but unintentional reference x’DD

To be fair Vivi IS being a magical boy in this miniarc so this works lmao.

Wrapping up on this note, thanks for sticking with me and reading till the end~

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

unearthing an old loz au :D

Extensive rambling and plot and everything in between below

ok so I made this au over a year ago and the other day in an attempt to procrastinate my brain reminded me of it so here it is! Redesigned!

Ummm basically this version of Hyrule has already fallen to Ganon, and (much like in Narnia) it got very, very cold as a result (I’m still working on the exact ins and out of this, but there IS a reason why lol)

Therefore, Zelda’s clothes are A), very warm, with lots of layers, and B), rather hodgepodged together, as they’re all borrowed. She hasn’t been able to wear her royal clothes in years, as she’s hiding from Ganon. And also most of them burned with Hyrule Castle.

so the embroidered frock (embroidered with flowers for symbolism reasons) thingie is about as princessy as her clothes will get XD

the reason she masquerades as Sheik in this au is more to hide from Link than Ganon. The latter is unaware that the princess escaped, while Link has some issues he’s working through lol

basically, when the kingdom was very suddenly overthrown, a confused and unimportant kid named Link (who was aware of the danger due to reasons I’ll get around to if I post his design), managed to save Zelda, who was still pretty young, and very much terrified. Terrified to see her terrified, Link’s protective side activated, and, well, it never really un-activated after that.

He managed to get her to a quiet, little known town on the outskirts of Hyrule, where some Sheikah (notably Impa) had taken refuge as well. They promised to guard her, and Link headed off to suffer the slow realization that he was a hero alone.

meanwhile, Zelda grew up, and grew stronger, and (once again due to things I won’t quite talk about yet) began to understand her duty towards her people, and to the hero. But, when Link returned to inform Impa of the plans he had made, he was very against Zelda helping him in any way (mainly out of fear for her).

so Zelda came along as Sheik instead :D

A few little things of note, now

I am vaguely basing Link’s inner struggle off my older brother… Link and Zelda do not have a brother/sister relationship however; it ends up a romance >:)

The only difference between Sheik and Zelda is simply that by the time Link sees her again as Sheik, she has dyed her hair and she’s been in the sun a bit more… magic is not involved in this case. Honestly it only works because Link didn’t know Zelda very well before lol

Zelda likes to sew, and garden as much as the climate will let her.

She has a very bright personality, but she takes what other people say to heart. I’ve found whenever I make an loz au, Zelda and/or Link don’t start out with Wisdom and Courage, but rather must gain it to some extent. This story is no different.

In some cases, I focus only on one of them, but this story specifically is about both. They grow together, just like Hyrule must grow again :D

in this story, they are all traumatized. Including Ganon. (he also has a backstory I’m working on hehe)

finally, the sheik design is not final… I’m still working on it lol

ok, that’s it! Byeeeeee

[our-love-forever]

You're Back - a Shadamy Fanfic

Hello everyone! Here I am, contributing to the Shadamy brain rot.

Below is a sample of my first chapter and if you like it, go ahead and read it on my AO3, "You're Back", both in English and Spanish. At this moment, there's only one chapter up while I work on revising the final version of chapter 2.

Sí debo informarles que con la versión es español... NUNCA he escrito un fanfic en español hasta ahorita (lo único que hice fue traducirlo lo mejor que pude), entonces tal vez no esté escrito muy bien. Se los he advertido.

Hope you guys like it!

Ch. 2 - Guilt and Doubt

--------------------

You're Back - Ch. 1 At Your Doorstep

How long had it been now? A year?

Amy couldn’t pinpoint the exact number off the top of her head. Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, and now a whole year. It had been that long since she saw – no, spoke – with Shadow.

His disappearance wouldn’t have cut as deeply if he hadn’t just vanished without a word. No goodbye. No heads-up. Nothing.

She had tried to get details from Rouge herself; anything of substance but to no avail… and that was after two full weeks of complete radio silence from Shadow.

“I’m sorry, Amy.” The bat's shoulders slumped as she sighed, defeated. “If he had told me anything, I would have reported to everyone by now.”

Even Rouge had been left in the dark, much to Amy’s worry.

Why would he leave without even telling her? Sure, Shadow was known to not be the talkative type. He wasn’t the type to let everyone know what he was doing or where he was going. That’s the way he is, yet he would let others know if he was to leave for something important or something that would take a long while. At most, he’d disappear for a week. Never two. And certainly not for a year.

Amy thought back to those first two weeks.

She had called Sonic. “Sorry Ames, he hasn’t been around either.”

She had visited Tales' workshop. “I’m sorry, even though Shadow doesn’t really come by that often, he hasn’t been over.”

Even Knuckles was a long shot, but still, she tried. “Nope, nothing to report here.”

At that point, she had started to lose hope – not in Shadow, of course not – but in the fact that nobody else would be able to give her more than what she already knew. He had left for some unknown reason.

Now after a year, Amy is in her kitchen humming a lazy tune as she dries her dishes with a white cloth in one hand, plate in the other. Her body moves out of habit but her mind drifts to those same questions she has had since the three-week mark.

Was Shadow alright?

Had he encountered anything to hinder this… “mission” of his?

Was he… ever coming back?

She hates the silence that follows those thoughts. It terrifies her.

No.

She quickly shakes her head to get rid of that dreaded possibility. How could she just think that about Shadow, the Ultimate Lifeform that could withstand the worst of foes? There was no way; she knew better… yet she couldn’t help but give to distress.

That’s just who she is. She cherishes her friends and takes to heart their happiness, their safety – it all mattered to her.

Amy stiffens at the sudden, raspy knock at her front door.

She blinks and takes in the setting sun coming through her kitchen window, and glances at the clock above the sink: 6:42 PM .

She wasn’t expecting anyone today, much less at this hour, and that made her nerves flare the slightest bit.

She doesn’t let go of the small, porcelain plate or the dry cloth as she cautiously makes her way towards the door. Just two feet away from the door, her ears perk up to another sound echoing from it… like a hand dragging slowly across its wood.

Her eyes narrow. Now… that was suspicious.

Tucking the dry cloth into her apron pocket, she firmly grips the knob and cracks the door open.

And she gasps.

The door flies open.

The plate slips from her fingers, diving straight to the ground with a deafening crash.

“R-Rose…”

And there he was at her doorstep – Shadow the Hedgehog, barely able to kneel before her. Bloodied and broken.

“SHADOW!”

Continue...?

[9-1-1-buddie]

You wanted realism, Tim?

1. Let's start with the virus: CCHF.

It's a) not an airborne virus, b) it's human to human transmission is via bodily fluids (secretion, blood) or organs from the infected person. Bobby and Chimney would not have gotten infected in the first place. And c) it's fatality rate is 10-40%. YES, I am aware that it's a different strand that Moira tempered with. But the viewer has only been told, that it's incubation time was shortened and now suddenly has a fatality rate of 100%. Probably because the sample size was 1, because at that point the mutated strand has only been tested on one singular rat. The effects on humans were not even tested.

2. Timelines (never 9-1-1s strong suit)

Since Bobby's airline was supposedly compromised during the explosion, him and Chimney would've been infected at the same time, since Chimneys visor also broke due to the explosion. Then why was Chimney already in "stage 2" while Bobby was heathily operating on Hen? And he apparently only felt the infection after he realised that his air was compromised. So why did the disease progress so incredibly fast in him? That man had a nose bleed for 1 minute, spat blood for 3 more and died after, what, 5 more minutes?

3. Speaking of operating on Hen: Chimney didn't want to operate, because he would've infected Hen as well. But then it's revealed that Bobby was also infected all along. I highly doubt those gloves were anywhere near sterile and not contaminated with that "airborne" or not airborne virus. So why does Hen survive? With an open hole in her chest and lungs, that she also contaminated herself by pulling out the tube from the (definitely not sterile) beaker.

4. Brain damage

Ravi was unconscious, because he ran out of air. Hen then loudly let's cap know, that he will suffer from brain damage if he doesn't get air withing the next 3 minutes. Now let's remember how many minutes Bobby's heart, and therefor also the oxygen flow to his brain, was stopped for after his cardiac arrest? Almost 14 minutes. Right.

My point being:

We know 9-1-1 is not known for it's realism. (They have a glass locker room at the station for fucks sake). Never has and never will. And we watched and loved it despite or even exactly because of it. It lightens the mood, making jokes about the absurdity of the stories. It bonds the fandom together, it allows for crazy headcanons, theories and creates an active exchange between fans. It also gives the writers an opportunity to get away with the most ridiculous writing. That being that main characters never die. It was the base line of 9-1-1. The comfort in an otherwise very exciting and turbulent show. It's what differentiated 9-1-1 from Station 19, Grey's Anatomy, etc.

Having that taken away doesn't make us "clutch the armrests of our chairs" the next time another main character is in trouble. It breaks trust, it creates fear, it takes away the enjoyment, prevents people from appreciating the show and most importantly: It makes people stop watching.

[its-your-mind]

hello all and welcome back to everyone's favorite game show:

can! that! comic! artist! be! trusted! with! womennnn!!!* *airhorn noises*

*in like, a drawing way. can they be trusted to draw women. I know literally nothing else about these artists. whether or not real life women choose to trust them is entirely up to the women.

up first! We have *drumroll* Kasia Niemczyk! *airhorn noises*

exhibit a:

Spider-Gwen: The Ghost-Spider (2025) #12 Kasia Niemczyk Variant

why do gwen's boobs need their own air pocket/ventilation. why does it seem like it's just there to make her boobs bigger. is the air stored in the boobs? oh wait, it can't be, because the bottom is just. open.

exhibit b:

Psylocke (2025) #3 Kasia Niemczyk Variant

you know what, it commits the sin of slightly overemphasized boobs, but I will FORGIVE IT EVERYTHING bc LOOK! AT! THOSE! THIGHS! they are fucknig real! they squish like real muscled thighs do! (source: I too have very muscly thighs accompanied by no ass bc the muscle is the same fuckign muscle) even her calves are squishing properly! (source: see above. one time I flexed my calf in front of a lesbian to show off the tattoos I have there and their brain shorted out for a second. it is still one of the highlights of my life.) ANYWAY holy fuck I am so delighted by this. it almost makes me forgive and forget gwen's open-to-the-vacuum-of-space air boobs. almost.

exhibit c:

Wasp (2023) #1 1:25 Kasia Niemczyk Variant

I... hmm.

I'm starting to think this artist can be trusted with thighs and not boobs. thighs are pretty okay. why does it feel like her suit has like. four sets of nipples somehow? even though it's all just body armor??? also, where are all of her torso organs, bc they are certainly not in her torso.

Verdict on Kasia Niemczyk: to be trusted with thighs. boobs require much improvement. can continue to draw women, but is on thin fucking ice.

our next contestant: *drumroll* Jeff Dèkal!!! *airhorn noises*

exhibit a:

Fire & Ice: When Hell Freezes Over #1 Cover C

I... what the fuck. hey, hey Jeff??? what the fuck. did you. did you censor out Ice's junk? like this is the sfw cover of fuckign vampirella?!? and what the fuck is that fucking jock-strap (her only item of clothing) that's pretending to try to be a bra?!? and like, Fire is better, but only because it would be literally impossible to be worse without needing to fucking bag the comics in opaque bags like one does the porn. like the aforementioned vampirella, specifically when it is nsfw and full tits-out. (brief sidebar: I don't have anything against porn comics necessarily, though I do hate having to share a store with straight men when they start talking about them. also, I don't want my DC comics to accidentally become porn without like. letting me know about it.) (also, here are fire and ice's normal outfits, just as a point of reference:)

Fire & Ice: When Hell Freezes Over #1 - Cover art by Terry Dodson

like, still sexy for SURE, but very clearly their own kinds of sexy that don't involve walking around fucking pooh bear style.

I don't even wanna get another one. but in the interests of journalistic integrity.

exhibit b:

Power Girl (2024) #15 Cover B

oh my fucking shit. holy good gosh. how did he oversexualize POWER GIRL. my beautiful angel alien icon what has he DONE TO YOU. what the ufck is with the MAKEUP?! the brows, the thick eye-liner, the dark lip??? and. the boobs. he took the BOOB WINDOW for which power girl is KNOWN which has at this point been ESTABLISHED as POWER OVER HER OWN SEXUALITY and she's. looking down at it. drawing your attention to it. and made it lower??? so that you (at least me) think "holy fuck she is one wrong move from flashing a nipple that can't be good for superheroing"

and again. for FUCKING reference:

Power Girl #16 Cover B by Miguel Mercado

look at her fuckin cheeky little wink while she fully flexes and shows off! fuck I love her sm (also. LEGS. s h o u l d e r s. abs. hngngnng.)

okay I don't wanna keep looking. jeff, you've failed. no more comic book women for you. get off my superhero lawn.

[sophieswundergarten]

Because apparently I like angst, I was thinking about the various iterations of "Kate gets adopted by Curtain" AUs, and my brain went to...

The TPJ Cave Scene

Because, I imagine that in this version of events, Kate really was on the Society's side. She wanted to join them, and she tried her best to help them at the Institute, but when push came to shove she couldn't leave SQ.

(SQ knew a little bit about the whole situation, but he has, like, negative ten self-confidence, so he's caught in the middle of his headstrong sister and control freak dad, and he's pretty sure that Kate and the others must just be misguided, but it's his job as the big brother to protect Kate, so he doesn't tell Curtain a single thing)

So she went with Curtain and kept quiet about her mutinous thoughts. Sure, she still snarked at him and pulled him into arguments about his paranoia or his treatment of SQ, but that was nothing really out of the ordinary. She sent a few letters, far too vague and far apart for the Society's comfort, with no return address and no details beyond "We're safe. I'm so sorry."

So they end up on the island in hiding and Kate is doing her best not to rock the boat, but still begging SQ to trust her and leave Curtain before something worse happens.

Meanwhile, the Society is losing their entire minds because immediately after Kate apologized and slipped away to check on SQ, Milligan shows up. And he's regained his memories.

Anyways, instead of a scavenger hunt they're just actively searching for Curtain/Kate the whole time, and when eventually they figure out he's probably looking for duskwort, Mr. B and Number Two have been doing field research while the others stay at home and research that way. But cue Mr. B and Number Two going missing, and that whole crisis, and the kids go off on their own.

Because they were actually involved in the search this time, they get to where they're going much quicker. They still get to meet Noland/Cannonball/Sophie because I love them and they need to be included, but at last they get to the island!

There they find Kate hanging out in the forest/abandoned village because she got mad and ran off and Curtain let her because A) Where's she going to go? It's an island, and B) He's spiraling down the paranoia hole at this point and can barely pay attention to anything.

The Society is super excited to see Kate, and assure her that they understand her not wanting to abandon her family, and she fills them in on all the details. Number Two still escaped, and is... somewhere. They're trying to come up with a plan when Milligan shows up!!

The kids all look at him and Kate uncomfortably, and he announces loudly and forcefully that they will be focussing on one problem at a time, and right now they need to deal with getting everyone off the island safely.

So, they formulate a plan, and then the Ten Men or Grays or whatever show up and think they're trying to kidnap Kate :)

Milligan fight scene, and the kids get to the cave

The Society gets captured, and Kate gets in serious trouble. She has a fight with Curtain where he yells at her a lot and tries all his nasty manipulation tricks like telling her her real dad didn't love her and how great he is for adopting her, and then goes somewhere else to Plot.

SQ tries to comfort her, and the kids take this moment to try and convince him how awful Curtain is. SQ is too scared and uncertain, though, and while he's definitely not going to hurt the kids or tell on them, he isn't about to give up the only protection he and Kate have ever known.

Mr. Benedict has to do his hypnotism trick, but Kate doubles back after a minute and arrives just in time to see Curtain going berserk, just so angey at poor SQ for messing up. Kate hides until Curtain storms out again and rescues SQ, who is so miserable at this point (And after being confronted that 90% of what made his life bearable was Kate, and thinking she had finally gone because he made too big a mistake) that he agrees to go with them.

Aaaaand then they find Milligan and get back to the Shortcut (Where Number Two is) and SQ does his best to help in whatever way he can and sticks right to Kate's side the whole time, and then they get to head back home!!

At this point it's basically a backwards version of the lovely @sqenthusiast's post here, but I will never get over the Cave Scene, so here's what came out of it this time :)

[mosneakers]

10, 22, B, & E for your favorite (or current favorite) OC! ♥️

Thank youu for the ask! Let's do more Coraleye answers since my brain has her book open 📖😄

10) What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

Her and Mira's marriage often stresses her out. She definitely isn't as comfortable lying about it as Mira is. Not because she's afraid of repercussions, but because every once in a while she sees the human in Tatiana, the doting mother, she sees how excited she is for the two of them, and feels a twinge of guilt. She reconciles this guilt by reassuring herself that Mira and her truly do love each other, so is it actually a lie?

If you're new or need a reminder, here is more information on why Coraleye and Mira got married in the first place

22) How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Coraleye has grown up in a household that really cultivated healthy communication skills and a sense of security that makes handling jealousy fairly feasible. As the baby of the family and the only girl, there was little to no competition for her, so that was also helpful. That isn't to say she doesn't experience jealousy, she definitely does. If she's in a relationship with a person, her emphasis on open communication and trust really comes into play and usually she talks it out. Although, there are rumors in the Realm, that Coraleye has been known to snap when pushed too far... 😬

B) What inspired you to create them?

Answered here 😊

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Oh gosh, YES! She would love my kids and insist on babysitting them, how could I not love her for that already? We'd bond over sharing our love stories, and she's a great listener and no doubt we'd be looking for a mystery to solve 10 minutes in 😂

OOOH counter question!!! do you think YOU and Coraleye would get along? 👀 I gotta know!

[ridley-was-a-cat]

What I Watched This Fortnight – 9/17- 9/30

Space Adventure Cobra – RetroCrush added this to their streaming catalog just as everyone was posting their remembrances after the mangaka passed away, so I figured I should probably see what it was about. What I got was a interstellar romp featuring a blond-haired frat boy with a gun-arm and a smorgasbord of comic book villains and nearly naked women that entertained me despite my better judgement. It’s directed by Osamu Dezaki, with all the pastel freeze frames and three pans he was known for, and still looks pretty darn good for a 40-year-old anime. If you’re ever in the mood for a turn-your-brain-off sort of adventure peppered with smugly delivered one-liners, this should deliver the goods. 7/10

Project Blue Earth SOS – I found this one night while randomly poking around Crunchyroll’s library, and it’s a nice little retro-futuristic sci-fi that’s much better than its MAL score lets on. It’s set around the year 2000 in an alternate timeline Earth where humanity has developed powerful engines that allow for near-light speed travel, leading them to be targeted by an alien civilization bent on subjugating the planet. Rising up in opposition are two brilliant teenagers, one the son of the manufacturer of the powerful engines, and the other the son of astronauts killed in a space disaster years earlier, who work together with a quasi-governmental secret agency to drive them away. The art style is vibrant and colorful with a delightfully 1950s ray gun sci-fi vibe, and the story had lots of twists and turns and revelations straight out of a midcentury B-movie. 7/10

Initial D: Extra Stage – This two-episode OVA follows the driver of the blue Sileighty from Usui Pass as she faces down a challenge on the road and one in her love life. The first episode, Beyond Impact Blue, has her racing one of the Lan Evo drivers from the Emperors after he insults female drivers as a whole and challenges her to what he assumes will be an easy race for him. The second episode, Sentimental White, has her go on a date with one of the divers from the Night Kids, who suggests that he would want his girlfriend to give up a dangerous hobby like street racing, leading her to do some thinking about her life. I didn’t feel like the racing was as exciting as it was in the main series, and I don’t love this mangaka’s approach to writing female characters or romance content, but I did like watching Mako take control and set a path for herself. 7/10

Space Dandy – I don’t know what took me so long to watch this series, as an episodic space comedy directed by Shingo Natsume featuring dozens of top-tier animators and guest directors is completely my kind of food. It starts off a little dubiously with the title character monologuing about tits and asses before heading off to his favorite breastaurant, Boobies, but it was hard to stay mad at this charming idiot blundering his way around the galaxy with his talking vacuum cleaner robot sidekick and alien cat freeloader, Meow. Some of the episodes were fantastic sci-fi short stories that packed a ton of worldbuilding and creativity into 20 minutes, and others were just sort of okay monster-of-the-week episodes, with a thread of a overarching plot loosely connecting them. The art and animation varied a bit depending on who worked on the episode, but on the whole, it was very good work and a lot of fun to watch. 8/10

Gunbuster – The old anime nerds have been talking up this series ever since Discotek licensed it, and Crunchyroll added it to their catalog this week, so I watched it. If you watched Aim for the Ace and thought to yourself that it would be better if it had more mechs and titty fanservice, this is the show for you. The first episode is an almost frame-for-frame homage to the beginning episodes of Aim for the Ace, which is kind of amusing when all the girls were training to be mecha pilots to fight the alien horde. It had some solid space fights and substantial sci-fi scenarios, and I appreciated how big the stakes felt. I only wish there were fewer lovingly animated bouncing titties. 7/10

Sasaki and Miyano: Graduation – This is one of those movie sequels to a series that’s kind of hard to put a rating on. On the one hand, it’s more of the story I enjoy with the characters I love, and it’s great to see some of the moments I remember from the manga animated and acted out. On the other hand, however, it’s not structured like a movie in the least, and runs through the material pretty quickly, leaving the viewer little time to take in what they’ve seen. It’s basically just two more episodes smooshed together without an opening or ending song. If you like the series, you’ll like this, but it’s not a movie-length story with a dramatic arc that stands alone. 8/10

[thewrongexecution]

this post is about ffxiv oc lore, not any well-known mythological figures. thank you for your understanding.

Been thinkin' about Theseus lately.

(Theseus is my Azem. If you don't know what that means: don't worry about it! these sorts of posts are as much to vacate my own brainspace as communicate ideas to others. you know how it is.)

((See, twitter didn't allow me the space to post these sorts of disclaimers, which really was a blessing. kept me on point. Hardly a paragraph in and I'm already digressing. not that that's a problem per se, just. different.

anyway.))

I love the way ffxiv plays with the theme of... mirrors, reflections- foils, that's the word- the three-body problem of being You And No-One Else, The Masks You Wear, and A Bit Of Everyone Who's Ever Touched Your Life all at once. (Millennia and Tataru, I realized just some few days ago, is itself a mirror of Ardbert and Lamitt, which is a fun joke for my brain to play on itself imo.) So how do I take my WoL (Millennia) and refract her through a funhouse mirror to reach my Azem (Theseus)?

Theseus has remained in the semi-fluid state a narrative device tends to take when the internally-understood path from A to B is nonlinear or otherwise opaque, but I've made recent progress by working backwards.

Personality-wise, I've always enjoyed taking canon depictions and extrapolating them far beyond what anyone involved might've reasonably intended (ask me about Luigi's Persona sometime), so how do I rationalize Millennia as the type of Silent Protagonist depicted in a way that makes sense was a fun puzzle to chip away at. (She's severely traumatized and dissociating due to post-calamity events for most of ARR, and only starts to recover after successfully killing a god or two makes her go, hang on a minute, shouldn't I actually be dead by now? Y'know, as ya do.)

I describe his style of speech as eloquent minimalism, the idea being to pack as much meaning as densely as possible for maximum impact; deliberate, measured, and a little bit like poetry:

"How have you been?"

You are a friend who I trust with knowledge that could otherwise shake public confidence in The Warrior of Light (TM) if shared freely. This last adventure nearly killed me, but even more so than usual, in a way that even I was worried I might not survive. There is a tale here, and I want you to stop and listen fully and without distraction. How do I convey all that as minimally as possible?

"Mortal."

So, how to rebuild that in a way that is-and-is-not the same, reflecting the attitudes and society of the Ancients?

Efficient brutalism.

"How have you been?"

You are a confidant who I trust with knowledge that could otherwise shake public confidence in The Seat of Azem (TM) if shared freely. This last adventure nearly killed me, but even more so than usual, in a way that even I was worried I might not survive. There is a tale here, but it has ended, and there's no need to recount it. How do I convey all that as efficiently as possible?

"Dead."

Millennia is the silent protagonist that thinks carefully about the meaning behind everything she says- and doesn't say; posture, gesture, expression, and a variety of hums and grunts can all convey in moments what would take a wordsmith minutes. Theseus, in contrast, is the silent protagonist who sees no need for small talk or pleasantry; they rarely even blink, let alone smile or frown or wave.

But the double-edge of being quiet is it leaves a lot of room for others to speak for you. Because they're both public figures, the public decides for them that they're stoic or cool or haughty or wise or what-have-you. So it goes.

For combat, I previously posited Theseus could wield a Gun or Keyblade or Keygunblade, and while those're great as jokes, they don't necessarily make for a great parallel. Millennia herself started out as a Warrior, but possessed only middling physical prowess; to compensate, he relied on clever tactics and psychological warfare to cow his enemies and strike unexpectedly. These days, she has a full suite of esoteric combat styles at her disposal, and relishes the opportunity to accumulate more.

So, a collection of varied combat styles, emphasis on unconventional tactics over raw power, and maybe a connection to Warrior.

It's Blue Mage. No wait come back hear me out on this one

It's not literally Blue Mage; rather than cast the same powers as their foes, Theseus studies how beasts and creatures fight, and adapts those combat techniques for personal use. A martial rather than magical art, similar to Monk or Ninja, coupled with the visceral terror of an unblinking robed cryptid scuttling menacingly towards you at coeurl speeds. "so what's the connection to Warrior" Inner beast, outer beast. Funhouse mirrors, innit.

And because it's Ancient and because I'm me: someone who studies the ways of war of living things is, of course, a Biologist.

The ultimate and final measure of any Azem, then, is "How bad can they clown on Emet-Selch?"

Imagine they are sparring. Emet has taken one look at this upstart wiry gangler and decided there's no possible way they could be an appropriate heir to the Seat of Azem. The job is difficult and dangerous and this Elezen-before-Elezen simply does not have what it takes. Theseus just knows they've been assigned a task to their quest log, and doesn't give it any more thought than that. So they are sparring.

Emet asks how they fight and they say only "Biologist." Emet clarifies, not your vocation, not your profession, your combat style. They drop to all fours and, as if the phone they aren't communicating over had a bad connection, repeats "Biologist," before going zero to sixty on the old man.

Later in the fight, Emet starts spouting some grand monologue about true power and transforms. Theseus... doesn't. Emet questions this decision, but without hesitation or consideration, Theseus simply says "I like being me," and resumes adding injury to insult.

[justatoastedmuffin-blog]

stakeout with Mick Rory

Pairing: Mick Rory x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: you're new to the Legends, you're assigned on lookout with Mick, it's cold, and he is a gentleman (in his own Mick Rory way)

-/-/-

1982 Central London is really fucking cold.

“Sara, anything?” you ask, tugging the lapels of your jacket closer. You hope your voice doesn't carry the desperation you're feeling.

“No, not yet. Keep on lookout. We’ll give you a heads up if anything changes here.”

Somehow, you and Mick got stakeout duty, meaning: Mick drinks cheap booze while you’re the one keeping watch.

You’re both hidden in the low light of an alley, keeping an eye on Roberto Calvi’s apartment. He was supposed to die mysteriously, hung from Blackfriar bridge, but instead he was mugged, his body found with magical markings, causing an eruption in mafia activity that results in hundreds of deaths.

So far, it’s been an hour; you’re cold, tired, and a little hangry.

You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them, but it doesn’t do much— you wish you had put on an extra layer. Gloves, socks, anything. You eye Mick's bottle of J&B Scotch Whiskey.

“It won’t help,” Mick says, catching your gaze.

“What?”

He takes a long swig. “Alcohol.”

“I know that.”

It was one of the first things in the survival guide they gave you when you joined. It only creates a sense of warmness, opening up the blood vessels near your skin, but really it takes that blood away from vital areas like your heart, kidneys, lungs, making your core temperature drop. But still, it’s tempting, if only for a momentary relief.

Another violent shiver comes up; your teeth chatter, breath drawing out shakily. You rock from foot to foot, attempting to generate some heat.

It’s hard to concentrate like this, but you have to pick up the slack from your “partner.” Sara and the others should’ve known Mick wouldn’t take this seriously, that he would just stand there tipping back bottle after bottle when there’s hundreds of lives on the line if you don’t do this job right.

You’re the youngest, the newest, you can’t afford to make a mistake.

Something heavy drops over your shoulders. It’s Mick's leather jacket. It smells of fire and ash, with a slight earthy musk. But most importantly, it’s warm.

“Thanks,” you mumble. Your breath fogs out in front of you, illuminated by the distant glow of a lamppost.

He grunts in response, looking straight ahead.

He’s wearing a solid black long-sleeve tee, and maybe it’s just the mild hypothermia getting to your brain, but it really does something for his muscles.

Forcing your gaze elsewhere— anywhere else— maybe the mission at hand, perhaps— you slot your arms through the sleeves, feeling his residual warmth seep into you. The jacket drowns out your hands, pools around your shoulders, and for a moment it heats you from somewhere deep inside.

Another half hour passes. Roberto Calvi’s apartment lights are still on, a vague figure passing back and forth from behind the curtains. Mick is on his fifth bottle, maybe sixth— you’re not too sure since the temperature’s dropped and you’ve pick up shivering again.

Mick, fed up, says, “You goin’ to let yourself freeze to death?”

“Someone has to keep watch,” you snap back.

He’s quiet for a moment, which isn’t uncommon, but usually a grunt in response is the least you get out of him. But then he says, “That lady, over there.” He gestures with a half-empty bottle. “She’s passed this alley three times in the last 20 minutes.”

“We’re being watched?”

A grunt of agreement.

Then you realize, he is keeping watch. Has been this whole time. Even with whiskey on his breath, he’s still sharper than you are sober.

You sigh, frustrated. “We should move locations, let Sara know we’re compromised.”

So you two find another vantage point, braving the cold, windy streets. Usually, you’d feel uneasy walking the streets at night like this, but with Mick behind you, an oversized guard dog, you actually feel pretty safe.

You bring your arms around yourself, hugging Mick's jacket closer. The leather material makes this little sound when it rubs against itself. It’s a sound you’ve come to recognize as distinctly Mick, but now, for a little while, the sound is on you, and something in your chest lights up with that. You smile to yourself.

Behind you, his boots scuff the sidewalk. You slow down, falling into step beside him instead.

You take this time to look around. The buildings are nothing like modern American architecture, where minimalism is injected into every streetcorner and shopping mall. Here, there are literal windowsills with more personality than most residential buildings.

You come across a cafe with an outside seating area that, while isn’t open at this time, has a good view of Roberto’s apartment. Mick sits down heavily on a two-seater bench. “We lost her.”

You want to ask if he’s sure, if maybe he’s missed something, but right now, you trust him.

You sit next to him, and another half hour passes. Without the buffer of the narrow alley way, the cold breeze cuts by you. You draw your knees up to your chest, breathing more hot air into your cupped palms.

Roberto’s apartment lights are still on, and the streets are empty save for a few cabs.

Mick sets his bottle down, holds an arm out, a silent invitation. When you don’t take it right away, he tilts his head, gives you a look.

Tentatively, you slide closer, lean into his side. Even from that small point of contact, his warmth pours into you. He’s like a human heater. And before you know it, you’re nuzzling closer, chasing that fire and ash and oil smell. Hints of shaving cream. You sigh into him.

His arm comes to rest loosely around your shoulder. Like this, you can hear his heart beating, steady.

You time your breathing with it— In, one, two, out, one, two.

Your eyes fall closed, content.

You never thought you’d end your night, or any night, like this, practically in Mick's lap.

You don’t know how much time passes like this, voices pass through your comm like ghosts.

“— worked out here, Roberto’s death should be back on track.”

“Poor guy.”

“Well, he was accused of laundering millions—”

“—honestly, what’s new.”

“Okay, guys. Mick, y/n, you two can head back to the Waverider.”

You feel Mick’s grunt of acknowledgment more than hear it. And the vague voices suddenly make sense.

You slept through the mission.

You sit up, blinking, the world still coming back to you. Your brain is fuzzy— the nice kind of fuzzy pertaining to a good nap. The horizon is a pale blue, little blobs of people are walking by, and something warm is beneath you, soft, beating, you absentmindedly smooth a hand over it.

Then you look up. You are still very attached to Mick, curled into his side with a hand on his chest, and Rory— he doesn’t smile, Mick Rory doesn’t exactly do smiles, but there is something gentle in his gaze.

And your heart does this thump-y thing.

“Sorry,” you blurt out. You scramble back, putting distance between you, already missing his warmth, wishing you hadn't moved—

Fuck.

“Well,” he says, voice quiet but holding that same characteristic roughness, “someone had to keep watch."

Fuck.

[indifference-prime]

@chronicler-of-narrative i've done it!! thank you for being my motivation <3 below is a small fic with part of vyr's experience during the void-jump accident. it is my duty as his creator to make sure he's never having a good time

Sometimes he thinks he can still hear the ringing from when the ship performed the Jump. At least it's better than the thuds, crashes, and screaming from hours ago. It's way quieter now, but he knows it's no less safer. Despite that, the entrance to their classroom is open.

He's huddled in the corner. There are others close to the door, some, his classmates, some others who came here from another class nearby, and they're arguing. He slightly raises his head, just enough to see Mathon arguing with a girl of smaller stature. The girl is panting, she must have been running, but she seems unharmed. There's another kid standing just outside the classroom, but it seems he's already realized Mathon's not going to let him in.

The older boy and a few others pushed the desks to cover up the malfunctioning door. The girl had not moved from where she was standing, she had kept quiet while the kids were working to secure this room, but seemed to not have finished arguing with Mathon. It doesn't take long for her to let her thoughts out, cursing him for his idea of 'leadership'. And Mathon yells over her, barely letting her get a word in, seems like he had some things left to say too. Her argument was that their self-proclaimed leader is being paranoid, that she had seen the kid fighting one of the adults, but Mathon makes it known that his worries were not unfounded, that he had previous experience with the kid that pointed towards possible danger in this grave time.

Vyr can't bear to listen to them anymore, and stares off into the distance again. Everytime he tries to imagine what it's like outside right now, he feels his heart sink. He's barely moved in all this time, and has no intention to do so. His hunger pangs have gone but he's still tired. He thinks if he could have done better. What would he have done if he was in Mathon's place? It seemed to him that there had to be a better way to handle that situation, one that doesn't involve leaving one of the other students to wander the ship by themselves. But he understands their leader's fears. The ship that they've lived on for the past few years has turned into a hellscape. This is their current situation, and they all had to make decisions, or rather, sacrifices for their own survival. Not everyone was granted entrance into their makeshift sanctuaries behind the walls of the classrooms, and Vyr knows that had he not already been in class with many of the kids here he might not have been able to find a group willing to shelter him.

Hours passed. His mind drifts. He thinks about where his parents are now. He wishes he could lie to his brain and convince it that his parents are still okay, that they're still in their right minds. His grits his teeth at the idea that they might be roaming, that they might have encountered, attacked, or even killed any children looking for somewhere to hide. But where could they be right now? During the Void Jump, Mom might have been just about anywhere on the Zariman performing maintenance and repairs. Vyr knew her schedule changed all the time, he didn't know who she reported back to. Dad would have most likely known. But he heard from the girl that the agricultural district became completely inaccessible due to the lockdown. Would Dad still be somewhere down there then?

Part of him wants to go check, the anxiety of not knowing what became of his family is tearing him from the inside. If he had to guess how much time has passed since the accursed Void-Jump, it felt like it's been a little over 3 days. He can imagine what state the world outside his classroom is like, but he'd rather not think about it all. And he probably wouldn't, as long as he knew that his parents were alright. As long as it didn't feel like his heart was being torn to bits.

The girl from before has only been restless since the scene from awhile ago. She convinces Mathon that enough time has passed for yet another search operation. While some kids start moving the desks and chairs barricading the exit, the others steel themselves for what they're about to face outside. It's just the girl and another two that are going out this time; the fourth is watching them from their spot near the window, but makes no move to join them. Seems like they have lost the will to fight.

He thinks he should go with her. He doesn't.