#genuinely what am i supposed to do now?

[skitskatdacat63]

AND I'M SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS??????

I am staring intently

[sidesteppostinghours]

ok. question.

ortega ended up hallucinating sidestep after they "died", but sidestep doesnt know about that. they know it got bad, but never the full extent of how their death affected them. so if your sidestep Did learn, if they found out ortega looked for them in every little piece they could, would that change anything for your sidesteps? would their relationship with ortega be any different?

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Yes, of course I have a thing for the rich lady that sets up elaborate games to hunt and eat people for sport. She’s British she’s posh she’s old she’s commanding and she’s morally revolting. How the hell am I supposed not to have a thing for her

[starpros-sunshine]

Eichi gives away the mask so easily because it was never meant to be an "engagement ring" like you delulu wataeis imagined it to be lmao. It was wataru saying that he will continue playing tsumugi clown role in fine and won't leave it for hokuto's mother troupe after graduation. Do you dumb fucks even read the stories? Eichi didn't even understand tf that mask meant when wataru gave it to him and wataru referenced fucking tsumugi in his "proporsal". I dunno why the f you think it's ok to lie about "! EnDiNG wItH wAtAeI EnGaGeMEnT" when the chapter it happened wasn't even close to the end of ep:link. Cope

PS: how do you live with the fact that Eichi clearly admitted to never being in love in his life and Wataru said that even though Eichi likes him, he still can easily discard him for the sake of his objectives?

I love you anon thank you for giving me a nice reason to ramble again beautiful ask 10/10 I'm sorry this is probably not how you hoped this would go but this is such a funny block of text delightful really thank you for the enrichment please marry me

But okay yes now to get down to the actual ask just to disclaim I am solely relying on translations seeing as I do not speak japanese well enough to understant the original text so if anyone has anything to add to this or to correct me on please feel free to do so.

Now to get started I'm not sure if one could say Eichi gave away the mask "So easily" seeing as he claimed that it was "a hard choice to make"? Which, as one might know, implies unease with an idea and pondering and debating and a general amount of thinking behind a decision so? I know this isn't really the main focus of this ask but I'm just a tad miffed with the semantics of it is all. And in either case giving the mask back to Wataru while expecting it back still shows a certain degree of trust in their relationship it wouldn't have been such a big deal for him (as it apparently was) if the mask didn't have a lot of sentimental value to him (the both of them really if we look at the whole exchange).

Now to the claim that the mask was "only" Watarus promise to stay with fine and "continue playing Tsumugis clown role". This is not entirely incorrect. Regarding the acting troupe and staying with fine bit at least.

I'm assuming this bit in EP:Link Deadend/7 is what you are referencing, and I see where you're coming from. But the bluebird line

from literally three dialogue lines further down, which references this line of dialogue (notorious Eichi line everyone should be familiar with)

kind of somewhat really recontextualises that? Because you see this is a reference to a fairytale about a pair of siblings and they get sent out by a nice fairy to find the bluebird of happiness for her sad daughter to make her happy again so they both go on an adventure and travel far and search and search but they can not find the bluebird of happiness and then when they return home again, disappointed because they couldn't find the blue bird, they realise only one night has actually passed and the journey was probably just a dream. But then their eyes fall upon their pet dove in it's cage which appears blue all of a sudden and so they gift it to the fairies sad daughter which becomes happy again and sets the bird free. The real bluebird of happiness is a dove. At least in the version of the story I'm familiar with but I mean everyone sees the symbolism right? It's. very hard to miss.

And then dropping this?

I'm not sure how to say this properly but in the overall context this makes it pretty clear that Tsumugi has nothing to do with this anymore this is Fully between Wataru and Eichi. And I am the last person to dismiss Tsumugis significance in the course of Wataeis relationship as characters I will be among the first to protest when someone dismisses the importance of Tsumugis and Eichis relationship in favour of some image they have of Wataei but he has nothing to do with this one.

Yes Tsumugi gets namedropped but - again - I don't really see how that would lessen the sentiment Wataru is triying to convey here? Because. Yes. Why wouldn't he mention Tsumugi?

The entire conversation pretty much boils down to "Yes I was initially only in this because I thought I could replace Tsumugis role in your life and then I wanted to leave but we have spent so much time together that I realised that that is definitely not working out because I really do love you. I love you as a teammate; I love you as a friend; I love you as a person and I am very angry at myself for not managing to get that into your head. So please allow me to stay with you for as long as you'll have me." And then also Eichi not understanding because he has the emotional self awareness of a very emotionally unaware loaf of bread and also because he hates himself that is a very big thing about his character huge part of his character arc actually that he. you know? Hates himself? And feels guitly for his actions during the war? And doesn't think he deserves love and companionship? Which is why Wataru wanting to stay with him for him and not for some twisted form of revenge is such an alien concept to him? Because he is projecting his insecurities onto Wataru? As one is wont to do when they hate themself? "EiChi Didn'T eVen UnDErStanD WhAt tf ThAT Mask MEAnt" Yeah. That's. That's the point? So he can think about it and come to that conclusion himself which works as a keymoment in his characters journey from hating life and himself to enjoying being alive and wanting to live on because of the people he's surrounded with? He literally explains why he didn't immediately understand the mask during the EP:Link Epilogue/4

And to get back to the "I dunno why the f you think it's ok to lie about "! EnDiNG wItH wAtAeI EnGaGeMEnT" about which I have two things to say:

"Lying" implies further intent and an effort. Neither of which exist in this case.

He literally went down on one knee while making a big proclamation of offering himself to Eichi with a very personal item that works as a symbol for their commitment to each other on a starlit rooftop. The comparison writes itself.

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joke

And then I expected there to be a proper reason given and instead you proceed to follow that up with "when the chapter it happened wasn't even close to the end of ep:link". I know the shame is on me for expecting something sensical from an ask which has been near constant in it's lack of correct statements but such is human nature I suppose. And you are not wrong. Deadend/7 isn't very close to the end of EP:Link. That is true.

But do you know what Is very close to the end of EP:Link? The Epilogue Chapters 3-5.

Do you know what the content of those chapters is? I do. Very well actually :)

(Eichi literally explains why he didn't get it)

So if this answers your "Do you dumb fucks even read the stories?" questions, Yes. And I think I'm a lot better at it than you. So I'd say I'm coping quite well over here :p

PS: Regarding your PS, I take the "I've never been in love before so I wouldn't know" comment with a lot of humour actually as an aroace person who's emotional self awareness also ends at "good" and "Not good" I think it's very funny all things considered especially because he mentioned the loving Wataru thing several times before that and I'm generally of the belief that actions speak louder than words and also am in a happy long term relationship with the concept of "Reading Subtext". So please excuse me for not breaking down in tears everytime someone reminds me of that one singuar line of text in one of my favourite all time enstars stories that came out three years ago which also brought us the single best card set in the entire game

as well as absolute banger dialogue such as

Among others <33

And there are soooooo many other examples of wataei dialogue that simply make me swoon but I have already had to take out so many of the one's I wish I could put here so this wouldn't get "Do you love the colour of the sky" long

And also, regarding your "Wataru said that even though Eichi likes him, he still can easily discard him for the sake of his objectives" I'll just say that no he absolutely could not. I mean he'd say that and if pull comes to shove and he has no other option then he might seriously consider it but may I mention that Wataru was gone for a few days at most but really not that long of a time during Sanctuary and Eichi stopped considering being a normal rational person that doesn't leave helpless 17 year olds in the midst of a construction site. Very different situation but I feel like it's worth mentioninh here. Another example is Eichis almost not being able to go through with the war because of Wataru. Wataru had to actively come and tell Eichi to go through with it. Wataru isn't the reason Eichi started the war, that is wrong, but he is the reason Eichi almost didn't finish it. and during the war era that was his Main objective. Again I'm part of the fraction "actions speak louder than words" Show don't tell and all that, but even the words are pushing it.

And that concludes my essay :)

[wexhappyxfew]

Okay these prompts were so good. It was so hard to decide. After much thought, I humbly present to you “Don’t ever leave my sight again” for Annie and Brady? I feel like the scene you’ve set up for them in the camp, this would really fit for them, but of course only if you think so!

HELLO SWEET ANON!!! thank you so so much for this annie x brady prompt is was an absolute delight and treat to write!! the annie x brady storyline for me has just been continously building and it offered me the opportunity to write their reunion in the stalag and it was a JOY!!!!! i really fueled it with so many heartfelt emotions and i just truly hope you enjoy. writing this made me immensely happy and filled with a lot of emotions, so truly, THANK YOU!!!!i can definitely agree that the camp set up a *perfect* opportunity. and to everyone - here it is! THANK YOU AGAIN!! PLEASE ENJOY!!! <33333

gone to the earth

(a/n): ITS THE ANNIE X BRADY REUNION PIECE YALL. COME AND ENJOYYYYY!!!! let's just say this has been sitting around in bits and pieces for a WHILE and this prompt absolutely gave me every inkling of an opportunity to write the reunion and to say the least, it came out exactly as i was hoping, with the energy i was hoping to portray. i sincerely hope you all enjoy - annie and brady are so special to me as characters and in their connection to one another and i hope to have done them justice for this piece especially; please enjoy!! (also: annie you are so real for thinking of brady in the way you do).

The drainage of color from what must've been a once bright and shining landscape was utterly depleting. The gray sky above hung like a heavy tapestry, fighting to keep whatever light that could've been shining in, out, and the sight of the camp, with its rows of bunk houses, and barbed wire crawling up the sides of the borders were enough to make her shiver.

The unknown was enough to make any person uncomfortable to any sort of relevant extent - especially in wartime. War seemed to bring out all the possibilities of uncertainty and the unknown, and it seemed to be staring her in the face with this camp.

As she struggled to keep up behind the few USAAF POW pilots who were in front of her, she could see the clouded outlines of POWs currently inside the camps, their faces smudged with dirt and grime, hair under beanies and crusher caps, heavy coats and jump gear still strapped up on them with their boots covered in crusted mud and clay.

Squinting her eyes, she could see the looks on a few of their faces as the convoy neared; enough grief, numbness and exhaustion to last a lifetime. A look that might never disappear.

Annie had been limping ever since they were sent marching this direction, the shove on the ground a few days prior, only to be hauled up by her twisted shoulder and dragged on the ground until she could get her footing, had left her feeling limp like a rag doll, her body nearly giving out under the weight. Her entire form ached from exhaustion, lack of food and water, and having spent the last few nights, ever since jumping out of that B-17, almost entirely awake, for fear of someone attacking her as she tried to sleep.

She couldn't trust a soul as far as she could throw them; she was in enemy territory now, in Germany. She was in a place so few seemed to make it out alive in, where they could have her head in seconds and do whatever they pleased with her. Because to them, she was their enemy. Recognizing that would forever feel like a punch to the gut.

Two nights ago when she'd shoved herself in the corner of the room they'd been keeping her in, she'd crafted a makeshift sling to keep her shoulder in place, the ache deep and slightly dulled now by the time she was moving more. Her body couldn't seem to figure out where to place the pain - her heart or her body and she was almost regretting letting herself worry as she had.

Where were Bessie, Kennedy and Margie?

Conditions like herself or worse?

Would they run into the others who were downed?

Or were they dead, gone to the Earth like a last fleeting resource and expense of the war that they were all expected to pay?

An air-raid siren seemed to open up the second the gates to the camp were shoved apart from one another, the immediate rush of pilots inside the camps, flushing themselves against the wiring and metal caging about the borders, their fingers latching onto the sides, immediately yelling out to familiar faces in the crowd, once lost but now found.

Annie lifted her head as the calling out continued, in an almost last-resort hope that somehow in all of this, someone from the 100th was here and alive and well. A desperation latched onto her, the sudden want to see someone from the 100th overwhelming her being as she looked from side to side, keeping herself in line as she continued walking forward towards the second set of gates.

"Annie! Annie Bradshaw!"

The sound of her name mixed in the swirl of other names being yelled, with cheers and call outs, made her suddenly locked up with more emotions than she thought she'd feel.

"Annie Bradshaw! Here! Annie!"

Turning her head to her left, through the crowd of pilots clinging onto the barbed wire, she saw the smiling face of Bucky Egan appear through the crowd, pressing up against the wire and watching her, calling out her name once more as she limped closer with the group.

A certain look in his eye was enough to make her freeze up for a moment - a split second of 'Why are you here? You shouldn't be here? You should be back in Thorpe Abbotts'. And then a mix of 'I am glad you're here and nowhere else now that you're in Nazi Germany'. Suddenly her mind raced - Bucky had gone down with Brady.

Her Brady.

"Bucky!" she called back, weakly, picking up her limping pace forward as she did so, watching that grin grow onto Bucky's face again as he watched her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he called out to her as the group continued to move forward towards the second gates, and the yelling grew louder and more invigorated, "You should be back in the sky!" She watched him, trying to get her response strung together into a well-thought out sentences and came back with nothing but a puff of air as the realization of just what the last few days of life had been like for her.

From the plane and the flak, to dropping out, being on the run, lost and slightly terrified out of her mind, to captured, in interrogation, lacking sleep and any source of food to here. And she was here. She'd made it here. And Bucky Egan was right there. Some members of the 100th had made it.

Annie tracked Bucky until she'd gotten through the second set of gates - people immediately started coming forward, helping some who were dragging along others who couldn't walk, along with greeting friends and fellow pilots. Something cathartic about it all hit her as she turned and watched Bucky come right towards her before anything.

Maybe in another lifetime, she would've knocked his lights out, but standing here now, the only thing she could grasp onto was the boys from the 100th. Bucky pulled her into his arms quickly, the hug short, but meaningful enough that tears entered her vision at the feel of him right there. Pulling back, Bucky held her at arms length and stared at her long and hard, like trying to figure out what to say and why she was here.

"Bradshaw…." he started, but she just shook her head.

"Your eye." she managed out, catching the blues and blacks mixing around his eye that had evidently been wiped clean of what blood and grime had been there, "Are you okay?"

"Hell, Bradshaw, I should be asking you that," he said in a slightly strained and choked voice, "what the hell happened to you?" What the hell did happen to her? She could barely even get her facts straight of the last few days, let alone talk about it. All of it. The bad, the ugly, the horrid.

"Did any of the others make it….?" she asked him, the sudden realization of her, Silver Bullets' pilot standing there, smacking him in the face, "Kennedy, Bessie and Margie. They split up Silver Bullets, we were losing crews left and right and with a whole lot of new replacements, they needed vets to step in. We all went down somewhere over near Berlin. Did they….? And….and your guys? Anyone?" Bucky watched her for a moment, his gaze both pensive and thick, as if trying to put the pieces together while dissecting her all at once, this shell of a girl, a half-made used-to-be pilot who was now in shambles in front of him, downed and trapped.

"Let me take you back to barracks." Bucky said both calmly and assertively, "Get you some food and water, too." He gave her an extra-long stare. "And a blanket, you're shaking, Bradshaw."

For a split second, she was almost ready to argue back, meeting his gaze, holding up that strong front she had built up the last few days when she'd been alone and struggling to survive under the watchful eyes of the Germans. But now, despite the conditions, this was someone from the 100th, someone from the place she'd started to think of as 'home' and she knew she had to trust him. That opening her mouth would only do more in this moment than was even needed.

"Okay." she said quietly, letting him turn and wrap his arm over her shoulder, his hold on her tighter and more confident than she had ever experienced. Like a sudden need to protect and guard - and if it didn't give her an indication of what she was stepping into, she didn't know what would.

Something in the way he walked, with her tucked into his side, like he didn't want to let on that it was her beside him, a female pilot on her lonesome, there in his protective and caged side. But there was something about the way he didn't talk that scared her.

Bucky Egan was always talking - he practically never even came up for air. So the fact he wasn't talking, wasn't even making a mention of her previous questions and had digressed immediately to discussing going back to the 'barracks' made a small pit form in her stomach enough to make her feel slightly sick.

They came upon barracks with two wooden doors, to which Bucky released his hold on her a bit, leaping up to pull open the doors for her and letting her inside. It smelled musty, like dampened wood and cigarette smoke, along with charcoal and death, and there was enough of a bitter tinge to the air for her to shiver as Bucky came to her side again to lead her down the long hall.

"We're just right in here…." Bucky started to say as he pointed to a doorway that led to a small room, lined with bunks on all sides, half of a table peeking out in the center of the room and a potbelly stove going in the corner. A few people sat around the table - she saw a pair of feet at the edge of one bunk and a head on another.

Annie slowly moved forward into the room and it was almost like a light had been turned on with how quickly heads seemed to turn towards the threshold she had just stepped over.

"Annie?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

"Bradshaw?"

"What the hell you doing here, Bradshaw?"

Immediately, she was rushed by a hug from someone she couldn't quite find the head to, but then the person pulled back and she was met with the brightly smiling face and shiny eyes of Bessie Carlisle, who was staring at her like she were starstruck.

"Annie Bradshaw, how'd I know you'd find your way back to us?" she whispered quietly, reaching up her hands to softly cradle Annie's head, holding her gently with that smile of hers. Annie met Bessie's gaze, the sudden realization that she had her navigator back, alive and well and very much here, in front of her, and couldn't help but pull Bessie into another hug, filled with relief, joy and a whole swirl of emotion.

"Didn't think I'd live to see the day." Annie opened her eyes as Bessie pulled back and there coming towards her was Kennedy Farley, a slight limp to her walk but a smile on her face and it was enough for Annie to completely disregard the salute Kennedy was about to perform and pulled Kennedy right into her arms. She held onto her like some sort of lifeline as Kennedy's arms immediately went to latch right around Annie right back, the two girls holding each other with tears in their eyes.

"I'm so glad you're here," Annie whispered quietly into her flash of ginger hair, pulling back to look up at her face, "you're both okay?" Annie looked from Kennedy to Bessie who both nodded, before glancing sidelong at one another.

"Margie never showed." Bessie started, "Yet." Annie's gut sank a bit as she looked between both their sets of eyes again and nodded, before looking back to Bucky, who stood by, watching with a solemn look written on his face, enough to hide, but enough to tell at the same time.

Looking back, around Bessie and Kennedy, she was met with DeMarco and Murphy and Hambone, along with Buck and a few unfamiliar faces that didn't exactly hit her memory. There were hugs, there was some laughter, there were even some warming gazes that made her feel more content than she had been in days. But something in her gut was ticking like a clock as she pulled back from DeMarco's warm hug.

"Did Captain Brady make it?" she asked aloud, her voice sounding hollow and strained as she felt her mind turn to turmoil - Bucky was here, he'd gone down with Brady, so how could Brady not also be here right now?

"He did." Buck said almost immediately, "Murph, go get him. He's been out getting some food with a few of our guys for a while now." From the moment she'd heard the words 'He did' fall from Buck's lips, her entire body seemed to freeze up just at that thought. Brady was here and he was in this camp and he was alive. A bubble of relief grew inside her stomach at the mere thought of him. He was alive and here. Murphy hurried out of the bunk room leaving the place in a disarray of a mix between new arrival and long-lost friend.

"Well," Bessie said stepping forward and making way to wrap a blanket around Annie's shoulders, "let's get you situated with some soup and water, huh? No doubt you haven't eaten anything of substance lately."

"Thanks, Bes," Annie said as the navigator helped her settle into a chair with that leg of hers, wrapping the blanket more comfortably over her shoulders and letting her for once sit down. Annie couldn't remember the last time she'd been properly sat down and felt both safe and comfortable that wasn't Silver Bullets.

"It's not much," Kennedy said coming over from Hambone where a bit of soup had been scooped into a plate, "just what we could find. Potato soup."

"It's perfect." Annie said, her eyes slightly widen in hunger as the bowl was placed in front of her, along with a metal spoon, "God, I can't even remember the last I put food in my mouth."

"You want water?" Bucky asked moving towards some of the canteens stacked against the stove as she nodded.

"Thank you all," she said as she took the water canteen from Bucky and sipped the water thoughtfully, "you don't know how happy I am to know you're all here." Annie looked around the room at the people who meant more to her than anything right now, their faces bringing an immense amount of comfort to her trembling form, their presence enough to make her feel safe enough to eat and drink.

"We're happy you're here, too," Bessie said, exchanging glances with a few others around the room, her voice dipping into something broken and lodged with emotion, "worried us when you didn't show. We didn't even know if you'd show. At all."

"Me either." Annie managed out, her throat feeling as if a piece of bread was lodged inside and she couldn't get her words out.

A beat of silence seemed to eclipse them as Annie tasted her first bit of the soup, which was quickly followed by her taking in a larger bit of soup, savoring the watery broth and the stiff potatoes.

But it was food and it was damn-near luxurious to take in right now when her stomach had been empty for days. Her mind was moving a thousand miles a minute though, stomach twisted in anticipation in seeing Brady after all those weeks, after Francis had broken the news.

Francis. Francis Montez.

Annie's heart fell at the realization of just what situation they were in with Francis experiencing the loss of another pilot; another Birdie.

A frenzy of footsteps echoed out from the hallway into the bunk room, a chatter of low voices following, causing heads to turn from the bunk room to the threshold.

As Annie looked up in that moment, there around the corner, stopping to freeze in the doorway was John Brady.

The first thing she took in about him with her spoon half-raised to her chattering and chapped lips, was his eyes, so intently focused on her own, the mixed hues of blue with gray flecks holding her own, his gaze so fixed on her own, she didn't realize that the spoon of soup was falling out of her hands, knocking against the table as it clattered to the ground.

His hair was in his eyes, stranded and hanging over his forehead, parted more down the middle, something she'd only seen from him when they'd been out at the officers' club or when they woke up side by side that one time all those weeks ago. His overcoat was clinging to his body, his boots caked in dirt, his hands filled with, presumably, sacks of the food he'd been scrounging and his entire frame facing her.

"Annie."

The second her name had fallen from his lips, that strong semblance she'd built for herself had quickly fallen in a matter of seconds. She'd stood, with the blanket falling from her shoulders and practically, between a mix of stumbling and limping, launched herself into his arms, meeting him halfway between where he'd been standing and she'd been sat.

Maybe launch wasn't the entire right word, but whatever it was, their arms were locked around one another in a way she couldn't even describe in her mind, her hands reaching up into his hair, trying to hold him as close as physically possible, his own hands tracing up and down her back, lingering on her exposed neckline as he held her there. Her eyes were welled with tears as she felt his hand moving up and down her back in that familiar and comforting, synchronized motion.

It made her think of that last time they'd seen each other - side by side in her cot, his hand rubbing her back as she had curled under the covers and wished him good night. A fateful 'stay safe' lingering on her lips.

Somewhere near her neck was his face, breathing her in, his lips brushing her sensitive skin sending goosebumps across her entire body, suddenly aching for him in more ways than were possible, longing for his hands to be on her longer, tucked up under her shirt, pressing against her cold skin, warming her up and keeping her safe.

"Let's give them a minute…." Annie heard Kennedy briefly say from somewhere behind her, a few muffled voices in response, a few coughs following as feet shuffled out of the room, to God knows where. For a moment, all that mattered to her was that Brady was in her arms at this very minute and safe.

Slowly, they peeled apart from one another, like cracking at a piece of stone to split open, arms still very much wrapped up in one another, their faces still close to each other when they finally locked eyes again, slightly breathless and pink in the cheeks, neither saying a word beyond staring right at one another like it'd be the last time. Annie couldn't help but let a hand crawl to his cheek, her heart pounding inside her chest as she brushed her thumb over his skin, feeling a part of him she hadn't dared to touch back before his plane had gone down. When she'd been scared. Fearful. Locked away.

"You're here." he whispered out, his voice so delicate she was sure she could lose it right there in his warm embrace, "Annie, you're here."

"I am." she said quietly back, continuing to brush his cheek gently, her thumb tracing underneath his eyes that had sunken into his face a bit, yet not dimming that look in his eyes that made her want to burrow right under his arm to hide. A sudden sense of boldness struck her as she stood there, drinking in the sight of him and his face and that look in his eye that made her feel slightly insane and swallowed.

"I can't tell you how much I missed you," she managed out quietly, "after hearing you and Bucky went down….I….." Brady softly cupped her cheek from the other side and offered one of his classic lopsided grins and watched her, eyes painfully brimming with an emotion that hit her in the heart, as she felt the tears build up in her eyes and a sob escape her lips. Her hand came back from his head to instinctively cover her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"It's okay now," Brady said with a small smile that quivered at the corners of his lips, "you're okay." Annie felt a small whimper escape her lips as she cracked open her eyes and looked to him again, reaching out her hand again to let her fingers dance over the scar above his eyebrow.

"Look at you," she whispered softly, her voice hoarse and filled with a quiet serenity in a way that she didn't quite expect, "did they hurt you?" Brady shook his head gently and continued to rub his hands on her back.

"Don't you worry about me, I'm fine," he whispered, "I'm worried about you." He let his finger dote on her cheek on the bruise from where the ground had met her when she'd passed out. "What about this?"

"I passed out after their interrogation, I'm fine though, really," she said quietly, her voice still strained as she tried to wrangle her emotions in a way she could speak, "I missed you so much." Hearing those words fall from her lips again without so much as a question to repeat those words made her heart ache as she stood in front of him, having him there in her arms.

"I missed you, too, little birdie," he whispered back, a nickname that made her insides twist, before he was pulling her closer to himself, "shit, you're freezing."

"It's cold out." she managed out back with a small smile, to which the corners of his lips grew upwards into that glorious grin of his - the one she'd yearned for and missed day in and day out, all those sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling, wondering where he'd been, what he'd been doing, if he was alive. Something that ate at her core and thrived on the very fact she was worried over someone she would've never met if she never became command pilot of Silver Bullets. If Birdie had never lost her life. The world worked in ways she would never understand nor comprehend. She felt lucky to even know him. Be here with him. Know John Brady for the man and leader he was.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked her quietly, his eyes darting over her shoulder towards her bowl and water canteen, "Here." Slowly, his hands traveled from her back to her hands on his cheeks and he slowly led her back over towards the bench, lowering her down gently, before reaching down to grab her fallen blanket and spoon.

In a matter of seconds, he was pulling the blanket over her shoulders and wrapping his own arm around her form, his palms rushing up and down the blanket over her shoulders and forearms in an attempt to warm her up. Even in a moment of being again in one another's presence, he couldn't help but take to doing what he did best. And that was care for her when she could hardly care for herself.

"I didn't mean to make you drop your spoon." he said as his gentle movements up and down her arms made her feel warmer than she had in days. She slowly looked up at him with a smile, catching his gaze under the softly lit light above them.

"Just seeing you there, I could've cared less about a spoon on the floor or not." she whispered quietly to him, her eyes holding his. Staring at him, his warmth and her own minimal bit combined, she couldn't help but reach out with her cold hand to cup his cheek again, his firm facade melting at the touch of her embrace there on his cheek again. Tears lingered at the corners of her eyes again as she stared at him, feeling this, all of this around her.

"I thought you were dead." she admitted, her voice sounding weirdly distant from herself as she spoke, "When they told me. About your plane. I thought you were dead. I just….I didn't want you to ever leave my sight again after that." His grip tightened on her as his hand wandered up to her cheek to wipe at that stray tear that struggled to leave her eyes. "And after everything just, sitting here with you….." Her words failed her as they watched one another, her heart pounding at the feel of his hand there on her cheek, cradling a part of her that no one had touched in any way beyond caring for the sick and wounded.

Annie watched his eyes explore her face, seeing the new parts of her that he'd miss in the time they'd been separated, his grip close and tight, like letting her go would make her disappear.

A part of her lingered closer, her eyes darting down to his softly parted lips, the stubble appearing on his cheeks, those strands of hair in his eyes that made her fingers want to start at his chin and dance their way up and across his face to tuck them back from his blue orbs.

An ache built inside her as she softly moved to cradle his face tighter, his head tilting as she felt herself inch closer, his palm pressed against her own cheek as their noses brushed and their eyes closed.

Every part of her was begging for him to come closer, to touch her, to feel her, to pull her as close as physically possible and let her know this was real and they were sitting here side by side. Because one hour ago this was far from the reality and a painful lie of life. But now, she was sat here with him and he was inches from her and she wanted him right there, hands in her hair, across her skin. Her nose brushed his again as a siren suddenly pitched out across the camp, Annie's eyes flashing open in an instance as she looked up from Brady's face and towards the window - an air-raid.

There was one at the other camp too, in the middle of the night, where she'd been curled in a ball on the stiff cot, staring up at the moonlight as the siren went off, over and over throughout the two hour expanse. Her body had shook with each distant bomb drop and in this moment she felt her body freeze, her mind draw blank as footsteps rushed inside the room and voices eclipsed her mind.

"Alright, everyone remain calm." Buck called out to the people of the room rushing in, Annie briefly meeting Bessie and Kennedy's tired gazes from the doorway, "No doubt they're bombing Berlin, or close enough to it to where we can hear it."

"Just stay calm." Bucky said, leaning up against one of the barracks, glancing out the window with a distant look in his eyes, "Those fucking bastards are probably getting what they deserve."

With silence falling around the room, the sudden realization of the spoon in Annie's hand, she looked back to Brady who was watching her with that quiet look still, that soft yearning and gentle touch she wanted to be wrapped in again.

Where his lips had almost touched her own - they'd been as close as their noses brushing - had it almost been more?

Would she have kissed him then and there, and allowed his lips to press against her own, letting herself become undone with his touch, now back beside him?

Her mind raced and her hurt thumped in her chest as her body felt the warmest it had been in days as Brady's hand reached down to pull her free hand into his lap, fingers tracing the delicate parts of her skin, over her knuckles and over each curve and nail. It was enough to make her insides feel funny and she focused her best on taking in more water and potato soup as everyone sat around in the room, the air-raid siren went off and Brady's fingers traced her own.

In a different time and place, she wasn't sat in a POW camp with an air-raid siren going off - she was in a little blue house, on the front porch, staring at the blue skies and the beautiful world around them without war. She was in a different world that wasn't her current reality.

Glancing over towards Brady, she held his gaze as the air-raid siren continued to drone and his hand continued to trace against her skin.

For a moment, she thought in her mind - she had wanted him to kiss her.

Right then and there, side by side, lips inches from one another in that tiny bunk room.

But all she could do was stare at him and plead for another moment where she got to stare at those blue eyes in a world like this.

[charmac]

x

[coridallasmultipass]

brocal for the ship bingo?

The OTP to end all other OTPs... (Man. This wound up being basically Cori's Masterpost of BroCal. AKA... this got long and has some images, since I realized I can post my own art directly instead of just a text link to it lol.)

Wasn't actually expecting this to wind up with a bingo? But I got basically 2?? (Will explain the lighter heart later.) This is A LONG post, and definitely gonna get SUGGESTIVE, bc man, am I obSESSED with BroCal. I'm just gonna go thru each checked box, since I don't know how else to structure this post lol.

Read More to save ppl's dashboards:

I want them to make out with blood: OKAY. I HAVE A WHOLE THING PLANNED FOR THIS CONCEPT. I AM NOT GOING TO GO INTO DETAIL ABOUT IT JUST YET BC I ACTUALLY WANNA WRITE IT. I'm obsessed with this one fanart of Bro licking Lil Cal, and it spurred on an idea I outlined and really wanna write: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/739969858334294016/hiiii-mutual-i-am-secrecy-asking-if-u-have-anymore

((Sorry for the plain text links, Tumblr app is NOT cooperating with me right now to add hyperlinks. I'd post the image directly if that one was mine.))

Basically, I just really need to see Bro and Cal making out with blood in their mouths, and I started a whole convoluted, unrelated outline in order to make that hapen. It'll probably just be a really short thing that ends at the uh climax, since otherwise it's gonna end up sadstuck. And I don't like sadstuck lol.

Undeniably t4t: Bro and Dirk are always trans for me, and Lil Cal's got that uh... what percentage did I calculate it out to be? 13% of Dirk is in Lil Cal [ My shitpost calculations: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/746702663327072256/i-ran-out-of-tags-rambling-about-this-so-im-just ] so Lil Cal is at least 13% trans because of that much of Dirk being in him, plus however you feel about the other components being trans. LMAO this is ridiculous to type out. Moving on.

EDIT: FUTURE CORI INTERJECTING WITH A:

"Lil Cal Top Surgery Healing Progess: Day 1"

Terrible for each other affectionate/derogatory: I don't even know where the affectionate/derogatory split occurs. I multiship BroCal as both Bro/normal puppet Lil Cal and as Bro/evil juju puppet Lil Cal, and whatever combination in between or outside of that. Terrible in that Bro is so obsessed with Cal that he doesn't have normal relationship/social skills and uses Lil Cal as both a crutch and motivator alternately, in a terrible cycle, or maybe rather... spiral. And also terrible in that Bro is caught in the allure of playing the role of puppeteer while also being a puppet for the darker parts of Lil Cal, whether he actively knows it or not. (Honestly though, I feel like it's dismissive if you try to blame all of Bro's faults on Lil Cal like this tho, which is why I tend towards liking Lil Cal as just a regular puppet a lil bit more. Or at least, a regular mildly supernatural puppet since that can be a little more entertaining if Cal can get into mischief while no one's looking or give off the vibes of his mood more directly, rather than like entirely inanimate or 'just LE, trapped in a puppet body.' Again, I like all of these concepts.) ((I mean that can also be a whole post of its own, like, by the time Bro gets ahold of Lil Cal, are any of the other components still alive in there? Like, are ARquius and Gamzee still in there or did Caliborn kill and consume them entirely? Idk how it works, man. This is why I like Lil Cal as his own person, maybe just influenced by the feelings of the others. LaCroix: CalGamARquius essenced water. Lil Croix.))

They need to get weirder with it: YES YES. 1000% YES. I need entirely shameless Bro doing entirely shamless things to Lil Cal. I want them inseparable and doing unspeakable things to each other. I want Bro taking full advantage of Cal having a puppet body and all the intimacy that comes with making repairs and being elbow-deep in stuffing.

Playing with them like dolls cute/psychological torture: This is the same divide as with the 'terrible for each other' point, so I'm just gonna go with the cute one, since the torture one is self-explanatory. I want them fucking married. Like. Full mushy cute romance type of relationship that Bro has never felt for any of the people in his life (cough aromantic cough). I made this comic not too long ago, and I often fondly look back on it, because I adore the concept of Bro being lovey and romantic and everything out of character around Lil Cal because he feels safe and loved and comfortable around Cal:

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/750602227910131712/brocal-4-lyfe-so-i-had-this-idea-of-dave-being ]

I made a post a long, long time ago (not gonna link that one bc it was personal and I was being very obviously mentally ill ["C'mon, like you're not being obviously mentally ill while typing paragraph upon paragraph about BroCal still in 2024 like 10 years later??" Fair.]) But the gist of it was that, like, having objectophilia or objectum sexuality is like, from an outsider pov, it's a way to express love to yourself. You filter all your self-hate through the object you love, and you get back unconditional love in return.

Lil Cal is never gonna hate Bro, no matter what Bro does. As a regular puppet, Lil Cal doesn't have the capacity for hate. And so that only brings them closer, since Cal is never gonna reject Bro for any reason. (Back to being a crutch. RSD is real, and Dave is probably a big trigger for that since he's not on the same wavelength of weird as Bro [not blaming Dave, obviously, this is a post about BroCal].) Bro can experience receiving positive attention from Lil Cal, without feeling 'fake' or uncool by expressing that same attention or affection directly to his own self. (Things are always done through multiple layers with the Striders, aren't they?) ((And I'm not saying Lil Cal doesn't love Bro, or that their relationship is just pretend - it's real, I'm just like, 'What's going on behind the curtain in the mundane situation?/ How is the relationship appealing?' Lil Cal luvs Bro 5eva 4 lyfe and that's a hard fact. Could cut diamonds with that shit.)) Example: maybe Bro is dealing with a bout of body/gender dysphoria and is trying to take out his frustration with working out, and it's not helping, even if he's powered through a set better than normal. Then, he notices the way Lil Cal is watching him, and he can feel the excitement seeping off Cal. He can sense the echoes of a wolf-whistle ring out through his mind, and it's like. Okay, none of that shit from before matters, he's got all the validation he needs right there in Lil Cal. Maybe flex in Cal's direction, Bro?

Oh, so back to being cute: isn't it wonderful how the template maker phrased it as 'playing dolls'? But yeah, I want all the mush and everything. Bro has a whole wardrobe for Lil Cal for every minor event that occurs in the Strider household. I want them going on genuine dates. Maybe even... holding hands. Bro blushes for the first time since he was 16. He even gets to take Lil Cal with him when he goes out to DJ or put on a show. Not to mention the whole website business. (I've talked about Cal's role in that before, but I'll mention it in a moment...)

They will die in a heart shaped pool of blood: I mean, kinda did happen, even tho Lil Cal didn't perma die right there. I don't think this one needs any explanation, since it basically happens in canon.

'You should see the other guy...': Okay, so. About 11 years ago, I had a really great idea. About how smuppets enter this world. I expanded on it in the following more-recent post (adult only content lol): https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/741683686717669376/back-in-the-day-my-friends-called-me-insane-when-i

To sum it up, whenever Bro makes a new smuppet design, he then gives it a video debut on his website, where uh, Lil Cal births the smuppet like it's a horror movie scene, fake blood and poly-fil gore all over the place as the smuppet crawls out from the viscera. Bro then gets to play aftercare by lovingly and gently cleaning up and restuffing Lil Cal as they get to admire their new creation and rake in the dough lol.

So it's technically not a 'you should see the other guy' kinda situation, but it does involve one of them being... idk what word would describe it. Injured by the other? Usually a character loses a fight and says this to act like they got out of it better than the other guy, but... We could have someone knock on the door during the filming of a scene like that, and Bro has to answer it with fake blood up to his elbows, and be like 'You should see the other guy.' (But obviously, that's a terrible idea and would cause more trouble than it's worth... Maybe worth it for a persistent door to door salesperson, though.)

Though, I guess I should also say, I'm not opposed to Bro beating on Lil Cal in or out of the bedroom. Or in the case of animate Lil Cal, Cal choking out Bro. In or out of the bedroom, lol. Depends on the situation, like I said I will ship this ship any which way. But my preference for animate Lil Cal is to be like a totally normal puppet around Bro (or mushy in-love with Bro) and then evil-murder-puppet towards anyone else in Bro's life, like a... toxic yaoi guard puppet. (New Phrase Achievement Unlocked!) Bro brings home another guy to have sex, who tries to stay the night due to the late hour, but the guy wakes up shortly after to see Lil Cal standing there with a knife in the dark, eyes glowing red. Panic ensues when the guest screams and freaks out, and by the time Bro's got a light on, grabbing his sword, ready for a ninja vs ninja fight (bc an intruder would've had to bypass all the traps), Lil Cal is just innocently splayed across the desk chair, no knife in sight. Relevant post (well, the caption on the post too, saying how Bro can't seem to hold onto any relationships besides Lil Cal):

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/741830516962164736/i-want-you-so-youre-mine-always-selfishly ]

Uh, lol, also Cal choking out Bro in the bedroom, adult only drawing: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/754328907438800896/i-wouldnt-wanna-be-my-ex-when-he-found-out-who

Thinking about them always and forever: Listen. My Tumblr as proof, I've had BroCal on the brain for at least 11 years at this point. Definitely longer, since I first started reading Homestuck. I fucking love puppets and dolls and plushies and I always have. Man, if I hadn't deleted Tweets (automated app I used to do, and I couldn't choose what to save) from when I was in high school, you could've seen me @ ing my fave band when they were taking lyric suggestions on a fan-inspired album, where I was telling them 'make a song where the theme is puppets' and, while I don't know if they saw that or took the suggestion (they had responded to me before bc they weren't huge yet), there is indeed a song titled "Puppets" on that album, and it was my favourite song on there. Point is, I was fated to ship BroCal before I even knew it existed.

Sicko 2 sicko communication: I mean, does this even need explaining? Bro and Cal aren't just on the same wavelength of freaky, they're the fucking source of the wavelength, and it's causing a feedback loop between them. And it does as feedback does, which is, it amplifies with time. (Going back to the spiral symbolism here, lol.) ((Actually, time can play a symbol here, too, I guess, but idk how to word it, I'm starting to run out of steam.))

Let them have a happy ending: God, I need this so badly. I know Bro's story ends in Homestuck, but like. Pls. Someone needs to officiate their wedding. Currently placing the dreambubble order, but I can't organize a wedding by myself. OH speaking of. In that lil comic I did above, where Bro is accepting Lil Cal's proposal, I had the Natural Born Killers wedding scene in mind. I was gonna draw that as a follow up, but I think I have too many WIPs going. Just two people on the run, saying "I do" in a scenic but completely ordinary roadside location. Idk why, I keep going back to that movie for things related to Bro (I mention it in a very important scene in a longer WIP I've been writing, as something Bro watched and internalized as a kid lol.) It's not the best movie lol. Anyway.

The devotion omg: I feel like I have already gotten my point across about this, but let me reiterate:

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/735842968450269184/in-the-name-of-iconic-magical-girl-anime-ill ]

Bro and Lil Cal absolutely beat the shit outta Jack Noir before he gets prototyped. And even then, they fight together till the death, like. C'mon. Nothing more romantic than fighting a losing battle side by side. Also, like, Lil Cal having his own protective chest for safekeeping as seen in the Strider living room? Like, you don't just have a protective case for any old thing, especially something meant to be handled, especially something that is regularly used to smack other things/humans. What I'm saying is, Lil Cal is durable and resilient, and yet, Bro still has a case for transporting Cal safely. Oh, wait, I just thought of something funny, what if Lil Cal goes feral like a cat, and basically the chest is like a cat carrier so Bro can drive without being constricted lmaoooo, I've been typing for hours can you tell?

Kind of homophobic: Listen. I HAD a Cal. Took him to college. Staked my claim on the top bunk bc I am royalty. Proceeded to not have anywhere to set my water cup and had to use a cardboard box as a table up there. Spilled water. Melted Cal's sharpie-drawn face. And then proceeded to cry. I have a WIP of Lil Cal 2, but that requires actually remembering to work on him. I wanna do better by the pattern, too, since I rushed to finish the first. I have all the material! I have the project started! So it's just a matter of reordering my WIP priorities, honestly.

Where is all the fucking content?!: For realzz. I was actually venting about this the other day (didn't end up posting it), but it's like, either there's no BroCal content, or there IS BroCal content, but I can't reblog it for reasons I don't want to get into on this post. I'm dying of thirst in the ocean, basically. Whatever. This just means I need to make more BroCal content myself, which I am more than happy to do. I've just had a rough past few months, so I'm glad I got to type all this post out, and hopefully I can get back to creating soon.

Last one! I hope this one makes up for the absurd length of the post, it's prob my new fave idea I just came up with on the spot.

[TW drink spiking by a stranger mentioned in this.]

Committing atrocities as their silly little activities: I think we all know what this means, but I am going to ignore that elephant with my special x-ray vision. Because this is a BroCal post. I'm digging deep to the meat and bones of this. Honestly, this could go multiple routes, it depends on how you take your Lil Cal.

One could place emphasis on the 'guard' part of the, ahem ahem, toxic yaoi guard puppet. Maybe someone is actually trying to harm Bro, and Bro legit can't do anything for reasons outside of his control - let's say his drink got spiked a while after he invited a stranger home that he thought was chill. As Bro gets shoved down on the futon, his memory of the night is only a few flickers. Familiar orange plush, roiling around above him like a dancing windsock. Flashes of Lil Cal's face all distorted and stretched wide like a funhouse. J-Lo and Ice Cube on the TV. But when Bro is finally able to fully wake up in the morning, everything is as if he just got home alone last night and passed out on the futon. Cal looks totally normal and content tucked under Bro's warm arm. Except when Bro gets up, there is a pair of shoes too big to belong to him at the door. Maybe Bro knows. Maybe instinct tells him to run. Maybe he does, but he's running towards Lil Cal, every time.

[captainrufflebanger]

Found out I'm not scheduled to work Halloween OR the day there's a children's trick or treat downtown, meaning I have no excuse to dress up for Halloween

WHAT IS THE POINT OF LIVING ANYMOREEEE

[jils-things]

2024 is probably not my best year now that i think about it

[volivolition]

suggestion do you have... any wants? like obviously you do but like? suggestion my guy my ourple boy. both the easiest and hardest to write. you need a skill to say something to move conversation along but it doesn't fit any skill in particular? about 80% of the time you can have suggestion say it and it will make sense. but like actually characterizing him... how do i define you dude... what makes your character tick... urgh. i dont get you yet. im trying to understand but you are difficult.

[graceful-not]

No actually all of you need to sit your asses down bc I just watched the legacy shorts and. HOW HAVE I NEVER HEARD ANYONE SAY ANYTHING ABT THEM OTHER THAN GOLDEN HOUR AND SWEATING TO THE GOLDIES???? HOW HAS NO INE SAID A SINGLE THING ABOUT THE GOLDEN LEGEND SHORT?? OR THE ANIMATION STYLE OF GOLD RUSH???? I could have gone my whole life without watching those do you understand that. Why are we, as a fandom, not taking about these more, or like, AT ALL. we should be insane about this. We should be insane about this, right??? RIGHT??????

[hearteyespierce]

god the hits really don’t stop fucking coming do they.

[lestatdelioncourte]

ummmm i just watched a life in the day and ummmm wtf

[muirmarie]

god i really want to sign up for a bad things happen bingo card and just like. write the messed up whump and h/c that my freaky (derogatory) little heart really wants lmaoooo, i haven't written h/c for the sake of h/c (aka without, like, turning it into a Fic) in so so so long, but also i have enough on my plate with ye olde trying to build a consistent writing habit with my mcspirk bingo card - which is more about writing stories for me lmao, and not just, like, me leaning over my keyboard in a dimly lit room rubbing my grubby little hands together as i hurt someone (leonard mccoy) and then let the people who love them kiss their forehead and comfort them.

but oh i was looking at the list of the prompts, and i was like, yeah, yeah i do actually want to let my h/c freak flag fly lmaoooooo

i know it's not a good idea because i do not want to let myself get overwhelmed and/or in over my head! but also. also. also. i still have le ongoing problem of wanting to turn everything into a capital-f Fic instead of just dashing off nonsense, like i'll dash off nonsense all day here lmaoooo, but when it comes to a story i want to??? this sounds so pretentious. i always want to write something??? Good???? i don't mean good writing or whateve,r i mean like a??? meaningful story??? (ugh so pretentious) (and to be clear i'm NOT saying i'm succeeding - only attempting!!!)

and the siren call of writing 1k about a cardboard cutout bad guy that has a knife to mccoy's throat while mccoy backtalks and kirk tries to bargain and mccoy is trying to hide the fact that he's already been stabbed in the side and spock has to carry him back once kirk shoots the bad guy??? listen. listen.

but also i do know myself and would i be Content with dashing off 1k nonsense or would i. still. the meaning. would i still the meaning. that's the question. the meaning. would i still.

am i looking at my neighbor's yard like wow that grass looks so green and takes no upkeep (probably), do i still want mccoy with a knife at his throat and jim's desperate eyes and steady voice and spock's steady eyes and the imperceptible tremble in his hands as he picks mccoy up from where he fell (absolutely)

i mean i could just get a card! it doesn't mean i have to write anything! (that's the devil speaking)

(the devil looks so hot tho)

(the devil's got them baby blues)

[hold-me-like-a-tourniquet]

what the fuck do you mean there's arsenic and lead in tampons. What the fuck. What. How did. What.

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

I've just finished the Magnus archives, and all I have to say is "what the fuck am I supposed to do with myself now?"

Irl me rn :