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#i thought way too long about an order because every other is worse somehow
bluewinnerangel · 2 years
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Hidden across my face In the crowd I'm counting up the days In a haze I'm gazing at the floor / Little freak, Jezebel, You sit high atop the kitchen counter, Stay green a little while, You bring blue lights to dreams, Starry haze, Crystal ball, Somehow, you've become some paranoia / Blue like the lights surrounding me It all seems so different when I'm around it See all these waves and waves of green Keep on coming like a dream Until nothing is the same / Things haven't been quite the same There's a haze on the horizon, babe It's only been a couple of days and I miss you / So I’m not gonna spend another night of dreaming Of what could’ve been Keep your eyes on the horizon Paradise is in your own mind anyway
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Saturdays / Little Freak / High In California / Late Night Talking / Paradise
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polarisjisung · 9 days
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LOVE ON THE COURT | 20 ... WITH BENEFITS??
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SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier
WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, y/n has daddy issues for the sake of the plot
NOTES | I have no idea why this update took me so long to post I'm so sorry 😭 I don't like making chapters like this too sad (don't worry there's still gonna be some angsty chapters) but I don't want the written stuff on its own bcs that feels too espresso depresso or wtv the phrase is so this is a bit of a longer chap than usual.. anyways if ever you feel bad for y/n, don't worry you're gonna feel worse
19:21, dinner the night before
Y/n shuffles in her seat.
Jaemin greets her with a smile, and though she offers one back, that sinking feeling in her stomach doesn't seem to settle.
Suddenly now that she finds herself face to face with her once best friend, no menus in hand since they'd already given their orders, no way to avoid conversation for just a couple seconds longer, Y/n finds herself at a loss for words.
What was anyone supposed to say in this situation?
Sure a thank you would be ideal, considering Jaemin had somehow managed the impossible, but the words escaped her. Like they rested at the tip of her tongue but she lacked the drive to speak them.
It's not that y/n wasn't grateful, no, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't, in fact she didn't know what it was, what confused her so deeply that she sat there silently. Her thumbs twiddling against one another, as she stared down at the table in front of her.
There was a nagging whisper in her mind, one that cast shadows over her once clear thoughts, leaving her in that haze of uncertainty that she recognised all too well. Recently it was all she could feel around the captain.
Something about this situation in particular makes her palms sweaty and the hairs stand on her neck, every glance at Jaemin feeling like a shadow of what had once been, a reminder of how it had all been lost.
Even just sitting opposite Jaemin isn't simple.
Not at all.
It's like sitting across from a mirror that once reflected shared laughter and secrets, now distorted by fractures of lost trust and unspoken words. She supposed that was the thing about mirrors and shattering. No matter how hard you tried to glue the pieces back together, it would never quite be the same.
Perhaps that's why y/n is lousy in her attempts, grateful to Jaemin but unbothered to express it. The thought that no matter how desperately she hoped, this couldn't be restored. That there was no point in pouring energy into a friendship that would never be resolved.
"So" it's undoubtedly jaemin who breaks the silence, a soft tone to his voice, not quite as gentle as the other night but still warm "are you feeling better? like really okay?"
For a moment she wonders whether she'll break at the sound of his voice like she always had. Would she go back to that point in life where it was so easy to lie, so easy to say she was okay, so easy to pretend, in front of everyone else but never in front of him.
"I'm fine, honestly." She lies.
There's a shy sheepish smile that creeps across her lips and slightly accents her words
Jaemin hasn't seen much of her positivity be directed his way, and seeing this ignites the little hope in him that they could move on from this, from everything.
"You didn't have to work on it without me you know, it was just as much my project as it was yours and you putting in all the effort isn't fair on you."
"You did most of the preliminary stuff anyways, and I really didn't want to ask you because of the other night" Jaemin finally admits, though not willingly, his words extracted more so by her sharp stare and the cold atmosphere.
"Right..." Her attempts at changing the subject, clearly in vain— he really needed to stop asking about the other night. Y/n wasn't sure how much h longer she could hold back the tears, the looming feeling of inadequacy as a guardian still strong. She should have been more careful.
She knows its her turn to speak, opening her mouth to do so.
But again, y/n struggles.
The words play hide and seek in her mind, leaving her to grasp at empty. The atmosphere grows heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Her mind races, a jumble of what to say, thoughts of how easy conversation once was, how effortless it had been, all such a stark contrast to now.
Jaemin watches, a mix of intrigue and concern in his eyes as she contemplates in front of him, quiet but with an expression that spoke volumes.
The silence between them seems to bite louder than any conversation they once held, each dish in front, a reminder of the bitter aftertaste of a friendship turned cold.
"It's just Minjun and I" she breathes out, voice shaky, and Jaemin realises that those nervous cues in her slumped posture and shaking hands had never changed "It's just been the two of us for a while" she whispered. "That's why I was so scared"
Jaemin's hand hovers uncertainly beneath the table, unsure if the gesture would be welcomed or misunderstood, caught in the delicate balance of care and concern.
Admittedly, Jaemin catches himself slightly intrigued, still confused what could have lead to her practically perfectly family turning into this.
But he knows better than to let his curiosity get the best of him.
He wants to stop her, tell her that whatever it is that causes her brows to knit together and her pretty eyes to gloss over isn't something she needs to force herself to talk about, but he doesn't know how.
For a moment he's kicking himself under the table— how had he ever let go of the person who meant so much to him?
Even now, knowing everything she had done, he couldnt help but question why hadn't he tried to get past it then?
At the sight of her downcast features suddenly everything that he once despised her for seemed so trivial.
Jaemin sees himself, a younger, less mature version that stands on the court, hair matted to his forehead from the rain, a ball long forgotten somewhere behind him, cold, betrayed, and so painfully alone. Those burning tear stained cheeks, the harsh whistles of wind, the bitter feeling of failure still clinging to his skin, he remembers it all.
But every feeling he recalls so well, so vividly, is so easily dismissed when her eyes shine with a painful tint, red from the piercing tears that she holds in them.
"My dad" she cuts him off, gaze now avoidant as he grabbed her cold hands in his, "he walked out on us not long after ...whatever hapenned between you and me. He never came back, didn't answer a single call, not even a text, no form of communication except the papers he sent in the mail so I could become Junnie's legal guardian."
I missed you, she wanted to say. I needed you she'd liked to add.
"That's why it's just the two of us now" she said instead, trying to find more words to stop the tears from flowing, like her words were the only thing that could hold them back.
Back then, Y/n remembers vividly the feeling of wanting to fall, to sink, to drown but still somehow keeping her head above the surface to hold on and stay strong for her younger brother. She wondered if Jaemin had been there, would it have been easier? Would she have let herself fall, would she have someone to give her a hand, to pick her back up again and hold her hand through it all? Would things have ended differently?
"I'm sorry" his words weren't new, they weren't special, they were the same as what everybody else would say but the fact that they came from him, Na Jaemin who now stood by her side with his arms wrapped around her, was enough to dissolve the feeling of emptiness.
08:25 present time
Y/n looks over at Minjun, still deep in slumber, smiling before she steps out of the room.
There's way too many toys sprawled out across the living room floor, a blanket she finds herself folding as she subconsciously begins to clean up. Her eyes land on the kitchen counter, wondering what to make for breakfast. She was never particularly good at cooking, but she'd been learning for her brothers sake.
When she gets to the black jacket resting over the couch, it hits her. She catches sight of her puffy eyes in the mirror, and a hand runs through her hair hurriedly.
"Why the fuck did I tell him all of that" she let's out a frustrated sigh, running her hands across her face, "I'm supposed to hate him" she reminds herself, though her tone isn't convincing in the slightest.
"You don't hate him though" Heeseung's voice comes out muffled, the toothbrush between his lips making it difficult to understand his words.
He had been the one to stay over last night, her friends still taking turns to accompany Minjun and her every night since he'd walked out of the apartment, a gesture that made her heart swell. Although up until now she was pretty certain he was still asleep. Clearly not.
"I can't hate him" she sighs, falling back into the couch "is it bad I want to be friends with him again?" she asks, even though Heeseung had retreated to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.
Regardless he pokes his head out into the hallway, a sly smirk across his lips "with benefits?"
Y/n rolls her eyes.
He emerges again not long after, smiling from ear to ear "no y/n it's not bad if you want to be friends again" he takes a seat beside her "you can only fight your feelings for so long, let yourself be vulnerable, take the risk and try again" he says, hands resting on both his knees.
"and if you're feeling really risky, you can always—"
"shut up Heeseung" she smiles, lightly pushing against his arm "I guess it is worth a shot though"
"he's right next door anyways so sneaking around won't be hard at all"
"I meant being friends. Just friends." she stands up, walking over to the kitchen "you down for pancakes?"
He nods.
"You know it could be good though, he's hot, you're hot, there's enough tension to make things interesting and it ticks your not ready for a relationship box pretty well too"
Despite the pointed look the captain offers him, Heeseung doesn't let up, and secretly, she wouldn't have it any other way.
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redamancyys · 1 year
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All Around Me - Kaz Brekker
WARNING(S) ◆ smut, piv sex, oral (fem recieving), cursing, unedited.
WORDS ◆ 3.7k
REQUEST(S) ◆ based off of this request, though i did stray a little. basically kaz and the reader have sex for the first time!
AUTHOR'S NOTE ◆ sooooo this ended up being a lot steamy-er than i intended, but i hope that you enjoy it, because i definitely liked writing this one!
To say that the desire was eating you both up from the inside was an understatement. 
Kaz had never wanted a person the way that he wanted you. It was a raw, carnal desire that came from deep within him. He had never been a person who ached for touch until he met you, he wished that he was able to be the man that could grab you by your hips without spiraling into a panic, or could kiss you for as long as you wanted without having to take a break because his internal thoughts were becoming too much to handle. 
You would always explain to him that it wasn’t his fault. 
Hushed whispers, your hands placed ever so carefully on his clothed body, trying to keep him grounded whenever the aversion got too bad. You had seen him at his worst, where he had to put his head in between his knees in order to stop the flashbacks from coming back to him. Though sometimes no matter how hard you tried, Kaz would morph back into that little boy again, feeling his brother's dead motionless flesh against his own as he floated back ashore. He would feel alone, no matter how much you tried to explain that you were here, he didn’t have to worry, he wasn’t there, he was safe.
And what was even worse, he felt like he was somehow disappointing you. He was with you, but you couldn’t even touch his bare skin without him spiraling into a mess. No matter how many times you explained that you were there for him, that you were always going to make sure that he was okay, there was still a piece of him that wished he was different. But Kaz’s wishes never came true, it would never magically go away. He had to face this head on if he was ever going to be able to properly love you, and for you, he was willing to try anything. 
That had been a few months ago, and since then the two of you had worked very hard to overcome his aversion. You went slow, placing bare hands against each other, small kisses, anything that you could think of that would be enough to help but also just enough to not make Kaz feel uncomfortable. It had gotten to the point where you two were able to cuddle with one another, his hands could go up and down your spine and paint small drawings on the skin of your arm and legs. And you could do the same towards him. After a while, you both were able to take your tops off, explore those parts of your bodies, and every time you went farther, the desire began to creep its way into both of your chests. Both of you were aware what the next step was, you both weren’t dumb, but neither of you had the inclination to talk about it. It was like the two of you were dancing around the conversation, doing everything that you could to not bring it up. 
Wylan and Jesper were always talking about it. Well, that was a lie, Jesper was usually the one that would talk about it with you. He always talked about the pining, the excitement of getting to explore your lover's body . . . it was something that you wanted but had never experienced before and before you knew it, you were sitting on your shared bed with Kaz, trying to concentrate on a book while he did his paperwork at his desk. You took a moment to stare at him, watching as his hands pressed against the paper, quill etching sounds into the silence between the both of you. You took your bottom lip into your teeth, sucking in a harsh breath. You could do this. 
“Kaz, I wanted to talk to you about something.” 
You could’ve gone about it a different way, because the moment Kaz stopped what he was doing and turned to face you, there was a hint of worry in his expression. Most of the time when a person told another that they had to talk to them about something, it was bad news, and you were quick to assure him that it was nothing of the sort. “Nothing bad, I promise. I just wanted to bring an idea up to you.” His face immediately softened, one that you knew he didn’t share with many. You took a moment to study his expressive eyes, your own going from them to his lips, the ones that you wished were kissing the delicate skin on your body. Giving him a tiny smile, you said, “I wanted to see what you . . . thought about having sex with me? We’ve been getting to that point for a while now and I just thought that it wouldn’t hurt to ask if you wanted to go all the way?” 
This was definitely something that he wasn’t expecting to come out of his mouth, especially because of the unspoken barrier between the both of you when it came to talking about these types of things. Of course he wanted to, saints, if he could he would take you right then and there but you and him knew that it would take a lot more mental preparation on his end for this to happen. And perhaps for a moment you thought that you had struck a nerve with him, that he would dismiss the idea and you would leave to compose yourself, but that was far from the truth. Instead he set down the quill and turned to face you completely, his gloved hands playing with one another as an attempt to ground. You didn’t move, eyes attentively staring, waiting for him to say something. Kaz eventually opened his mouth to say, “Of course I want to have sex with you.” He said it as though you were dumb thinking that he wasn’t, but you knew that this was his way of trying to guard himself from the actual thoughts that came into his head. “I think I just need a little time to prepare first-” “Yes! I know, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable first,” You cut him off, not wanting him to think that you were going to pressure him. 
Soon enough you two were discussing the logistics, almost as if you were scheduling a business meeting of a sort. It made you chuckle at first, but as the days went by, closer to the date that the two of you planned to finally go the final step, your nerves began to jumble up. 
~
You sat down at the edge of his bed, very reminiscent of a few days ago when you popped the question, but instead of Kaz sitting at his desk, he was sitting beside you. His breathing was slightly rigid, he was nervous which you completely understood. In order to comfort him, you placed your hand on his gloved one, looking at him with a look of kindness in an attempt to show him that you were nervous too. 
“I love you,” You said to him. 
“I love you too, Y/N.” 
One finger at a time, you began to pull his gloves off of his hand, and then the other one, setting the pair onto the bedside table. You held one of his hands with yours while the other one made its way to the back of his neck, pressing soft kisses to his lips. Kaz responded by putting his hand on your waist, eagerly kissing you back. He pulled you closer to him, until you got the idea of straddling his waist, legs on either side of him as you sat on his lap. This kissing went on for a while, semi for comfort but also for pleasure, as you knew that you would never get tired of kissing Kaz Brekker. His lips tasted like honeyed tea and you relished in the notion that you would be the only one who ever got to taste such a sweet thing. 
You were still sitting on his thighs and you needed him more than ever now. That familiar feeling that bubbled up inside of you whenever you two got this far began to resurface, causing the kissing to become even more fast paced, filled with want and need. Though the most enjoyable part was that the two of you were having fun, taking moments to stop and admire one another. For a moment a sly smile came across his lips and you wiped it away with a kiss, going back to the fast pace that had been set before. Your hands came and tentatively went under his shirt, feeling the taut skin of his chest with calm and courteous fingers, not wanting to upset him, though clearly beginning to fog up the idea of being gentle. The thought of him above you with a body like that? It made you falter in your movements. He was beautiful, and you were sure that you would never allow him to forget it. 
Using the break in your concentration to his advantage, Kaz began mouthing along your skin, knowing that your neck was sensitive in a multitude of places and skimming your skin with his teeth ever so gently, hands pulling up your shirt above your head. His eyes scanned your body, raising an eyebrow. “No bra?” He asked, making you shy away and look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t reply, but he seemed to not like that. His hand came and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. You gave a small smile, “I wanted to be comfy.” He hummed, somewhat disappointed in your answer but not disappointed at how compliant you seemed to be with him. Kaz went back to kissing your neck, teeth grazing along your soft skin, making you jump whenever he bit down on a particular spot. 
You were beginning to grow impatient. Perhaps it was with the way that he was worshiping you, wanting to kiss every single inch of you and make you keel into his touch over and over again. Or maybe it was because no one had ever made you feel this way before. You hadn’t been with others before, never trying to get this far with the men of Ketterdam for fear of ruin or awkwardness in the morning. You had only longed for Kaz before. 
His hands found your breasts, squeezing them and kneading them together, fingers coming to pinch your nipples. Your back arched into him and you almost fell over on top of him, using your hands on his muscles to stop you. You reached and decided you wanted to please him, to show him how much you wanted him. You trailed your hands under his shirt and came to the band of his pants, pushing your fingers past it and making your way down. Before you could hit his obvious hard on, one of his own hands came and grasped your wrists, pulling your hand away. You looked up, thinking that you did something wrong. Tilting your head, you gave him a silent what? Maybe you had made him uncomfortable, and he was trying to come up with a way to tell you off. 
Though that didn’t seem to be the case when Kaz’s lips offered a smirk. 
“I’m not done with you yet,” Kaz explained. In one movement he put his hands to your back and flipped you two over, him now on top of you. Your head hit the mattress with a small humph and wondered what he had in store for you. 
You worked with him to shimmy your pants and panties off, throwing them to some side of the room. His hands splayed against your thighs and you watched with an open mouth to see what he was going to do. He gave you a look, a familiar one that reminded you that you were actually here with him, no one else, the two of you were doing this amazing thing together. Your heart swelled with adoration as you thought that this was the man that you loved, the one that you trusted more than anyone else in the entire world. You were also well aware of the slick that was beginning to coat your thighs, body betraying you and showing him how much you wanted him, how you ached for him. Kaz seemed to like it though, bringing his flesh hand to your slit and scooping some of it up. When he brought his hand back up, you could see the way that it glistened on his skin, popping a finger into his mouth and humming sinfully at the taste. He did it again and again, humming every single time your arousal hit his tongue. You looked down with heated cheeks, feeling a little embarrassed that you were getting so worked up over something so small. “You taste . . .” He trailed off, bringing his tongue to your folds and swiping up from your hole to your clit. “Amazing.” 
“It’s all for you,” You said, wiggling your hips and urging him to pleasure you again. Kaz smirked, feeling a sense of pride wash over him at your words. He brought a finger to you and pushed it in, watching your mouth open into a wide ‘O’ at the feeling. He curled it up, making your muscles tighten around him. Kaz built a steady pace and he came back up to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek sweetly as if he couldn’t hear the lewd sounds that were being created when he added a second finger in. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” He said, towering over you. His thumb rubbed against your clit while his fingers fucked into you. “To see you under me like this.” The both of you seemed to have this desire for each other for the longest time. 
You moaned out at his words, thighs clenching around his hand to keep him there. You couldn’t respond, too busy thinking about the steady fire that was building in you. You reached to climb higher, hoping he would grant you some kind of release. He didn’t give it to you though. Instead, whenever you were getting to that tipping point, he would stop all of his movements altogether until you stopped shaking, then repeat the process over and over again. It was making you go crazy, how he had the power to push you towards release but he just wouldn’t do it.
You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. As if to test you further, he pushed a third finger into you, making you moan out his name loud and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. His thumb kept rubbing languid circles on your clit. You thought if you stayed quiet you could sneak an orgasm, cut him off guard. But as if he heard your thoughts, his movements stalled and he put his other hand firmly on your hips so you couldn’t even move against his statue-like hand. His dark eyes bore into your own and you squeezed around his fingers. “You make me feel so good, Kaz.” The praise fell from your lips with ease, lava pooling in your stomach as if threatening to burst at any moment. If only he would just rub a little bit more . . .
He pulled his hand away from you. Kaz didn’t even respond to your statement and you wondered if you said something wrong, if he had enough. And he had enough all right, but not enough of you. He wanted to see you cum, just around his cock and not his fingers. But you couldn’t hear what he was thinking, which made you whimper when he pulled himself away fully, standing at the edge of the bed. You opened your legs up to him, the farthest that you could go without hurting yourself and hoping that it would make him come back to you quickly. Your clit was aching from several denied orgasms, almost thinking about pulling your hand down to finish yourself off, though deciding against it when knowing Kaz would never allow something like that. He liked seeing you writhing like this. 
Kaz’s hands shed all his clothing. He wasn’t exactly putting on a show for you but you marveled anyways, watching the way that his muscles flexed when his shirt came off and how you wanted to lick all around his abdominal region and make your way all down to his cock, which was pressed against his stomach and slightly glistening with precum. It was big and felt your insides clench just thinking about it sliding into you. Once he was satisfied with his clothing off, he came back down to the bed and kneeled between your spread legs. 
“Kaz,” You whispered. “Please.” 
There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and it took all of your strength to not roll your eyes. “What do you want me to do to you?” Of course he wanted to hear you say it, to announce what he was inevitably going to do. You couldn’t ignore the way you loved how controlling he was with you, how he ordered you to do some things. And as much as you hated that he didn’t let you cum, you also loved how he would make you cum when he wanted you to, not you. He took his cock into his hands and rubbed the tip against your glistening folds, teasing you in the most sinful way possible.
“Please . . . Fuck me Kaz. Make me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” You just wanted him inside of you so badly, you were going to scream if this went on for any longer. He was right there, denying you both the pleasure. With a nod of his head, he pushed into you in one fluid motion. The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you made you grip onto his bicep, pulling him close so his warm chest was against your own again. He wasted no time moving, the sound of it deliciously sweet in your ears. Kaz took your legs and pushed them upwards, your feet hanging off of his shoulders and pressing your thighs further up until they were almost hitting the mattress. The change in position had you crying out, feeling him hit deeper inside of you. 
You could feel every single scrape of his cock against your walls, increasing that fire in your stomach until you were sure you were about to cum. He kept at it with such loyalty and vigor, his motivation to make you feel the best you ever had fuelling him to a tenfold. He was such a devoted man to begin with, so you should’ve known that he would handle things the same way in bed. 
You squeezed around him. “Please,” You whimpered. 
“Go ahead.” Those two words were all you needed, allowing yourself to scream out as your orgasm ripped through you, built up again and again and now it was finally here and it was amazing. It rippled through you like shockwaves, and made you go limp under him, legs completely boneless. Kaz didn’t let up as he rode through your orgasm, keeping the same pace with you. He was unforgiving, not giving you time to adjust and instantly making you feel the feeling of overstimulation. You were so sensitive to his cock ramming in and out of you that you could feel a second orgasm already building up. The tip of him hit a particularly nice spot in you and you yelled, curling your toes and your hands came to tangle and grip in his hair. You almost stopped for a moment thinking that you were hurting him, but when you looked at his face, you saw only fucked out bliss, white incisors showing in a ravenous grin. His eyes opened and they were almost fully dark, making you shiver. 
“You feel so good,” He mumbled, as though he was talking to himself. He was completely thrown into the pleasure that you were giving him, hot and warm and just perfect , like you were made for his cock to be rammed into over and over again. “Made for me, all for me.” He used your past words, them never losing their meaning no matter how many times he muttered under his breath. 
Time seemed to slow and grow faster at the same time, the whole room disappearing as both of you focused on only each other. You weren’t sure how many times he had made you cum at this point, you took whatever he gave you and took it well. When you got enough strength to crane your neck down, you watched as your hole enveloped his cock, it coming back out slicked with the remnants of your past orgasms. Kaz saw where your eyesight was and a sense of pride washed over him again. “Do you like watching that? Seeing how well you take me?” He asked, egging you on. His hand went to grab your own and placed it on your lower abdomen, and you could feel the skin slightly raising up every time he went into you. You could see it too, sliding in and out. Though, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, his movements were beginning to falter. He was becoming more sloppy with his hips and you knew he was about to cum. So, to give him what he had worked for, you wiggled your hips up, matching his hips. Your oversensitive clit rubbed against the base of his cock and you were clenching around him, and as if on cue, you were cumming again, feeling weak under him. Kaz wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up, his cock splitting you open until he was spilling inside of you. 
The moans that left his mouth were probably the hottest things you had ever felt in your life. You could feel his cum dripping down his cock, coating your thighs and dripping onto the soiled sheets. He put you down on the bed and followed you, eyes watching your own and kissing your sweaty forehead. He finally stopped moving and stilled inside, not wanting to leave you. He didn’t want to leave this moment and neither did you. 
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i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.
kiss me once ‘cause you know i had a long night, kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be all right, three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life
Steve’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He’s technically not supposed to have it on the floor, but it’s 9:30 on a Wednesday night and the store’s dead anyway.
Eddie 🎸👎: date’s a dud engage emergency protocol immediately 🚨🚨🚨
Steve rolls his eyes and clicks the little phone icon near Eddie’s name.
“Hello?” Eddie manages to sound both confused and concerned.
“Help, help,” Steve deadpans, leaning his elbows on the counter. “I’m having an emergency that only you can help me with.” Steve’s done this enough times in the three years they’ve lived together to know that Eddie can think up his own lie to tell his date.
“Oh my god, I’ll be right there, Steve.”
Steve’s not sure how Eddie manages to make it sound so convincing every time, but it’s enough that even Steve might start to believe it if he wasn’t the one calling.
Eddie hangs up without saying goodbye, probably to tell his date some exaggerated story about how Steve’s fallen in the shower or fell off a ladder. Somehow, all Eddie’s emergency scenarios involve Steve hurting himself in increasingly embarrassing ways.
By the time Steve’s got the store tidied and closed and walked the four blocks to their apartment, Robin and Eddie are already on the couch in the living room. Steve can hear them bickering over what to watch from the front hallway as he slips off his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket. He follows the sound of their voices to find them practically wrestling over the remote.
“Jesus, can’t leave you two alone for more than five minutes. You’re worse than the kids,” Steve says as he makes his way across the room and into the kitchen for a bag of chips. It wasn’t the healthiest dinner, but he was too exhausted to cook.
“There’s leftovers from the diner in the fridge,” Eddie calls out to him, not even missing a beat as he pries the remote from Robin’s white-knuckled grip.
“You took leftovers on a first date?” Robin asks him, appalled, as if it’s the most unheard of thing Eddie’s ever said.
Steve’s popping the styrofoam container into their tiny microwave as Eddie tells her, “It was a second date for your information.” He puts on an episode of Ghost Adventures without asking anyone’s input.
“Wow, someone made it past your rigorous first date interview? Shocker.” Robin crosses her arms and huffs in annoyance, because she was also going to put on Ghost Adventures but it’s the principle of the thing. You just don’t take a woman’s remote from her, under any circumstance.
“Hey, it’s imperative for me to suss out a potential partner’s commitment to the music gods,” Eddie says.
“‘Potential partners’?” Robin scoffs. “I thought you said you were in your slut era?”
“Well,” Eddie seems to lose his footing here. “I am. But I can’t be fucking anyone who listens to Tame Impala.”
“Steve listens to Tame Impala.”
Steve has made it back into the living room in time to see the blush rise on Eddie’s cheeks.
“Good thing I’m not fucking Steve then, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, good thing.” Even Steve can hear the eye roll in Robin’s voice.
Because the thing was…
Okay, so the thing is…
The long and short of it is that they’re not fucking.
But they’re also, like. Not not fucking.
It’s just that sometimes, after a horrible date or a stressful day or even just when they’re feeling incredibly horny, the apartment can feel kind of lonely, even with two roommates. So. They… do stuff. Together. No penetration, but. Yeah. Enough for it to be called ‘fucking,’ probably. At least Steve thinks so.
But they haven’t told Robin. They’re both pretty sure she suspects. She’s not a fucking idiot and Steve thinks someone living under the same roof as Steve and Eddie would have to be in order to be that oblivious. Steve’s pretty sure she’s been trying to get one or the other of them to confess, but they’ve held strong so far. It’s not that they were hiding it, exactly. It was just that, whenever this thing inevitably came to an end or imploded on them both, they didn’t want to have to explain it to anyone. At least that was what Steve was thinking, because it’s not like they actually talk about it.
Neither of them say anything else, so Steve makes an attempt to change the subject.
“So what did you tell your date this time?” He asks Eddie before shoveling a forkful of reheated pasta into his own mouth.
Eddie smirks. “I told him you cut off the tip of your finger with your crafting scissors while you were scrapbooking and then passed out from the sight of the blood and hit your head on the corner of the coffee table.”
Steve pauses with his fork halfway between the takeout container and his mouth.
“I thought these emergencies were supposed to be believable.”
“I’ve literally walked in on you scrapbooking multiple times, Stevie,” Eddie says it like he’s stating the obvious.
“I could never cut through my fingers with my crafting scissors.”
“Oh, that’s what you take issue with about that lame-ass scenario?” Robin scoffs again.
“There’s nothing wrong with scrapbooking,” Steve says defensively.
“Didn’t say there was,” Robin mutters, turning her attention back to the TV. “Can you guys shut up now? I’m trying to watch my stories.”
Steve rolls his eyes and shares a look with Eddie before doing as Robin says and shutting the fuck up. He drops down into the lone armchair to finish his leftover diner food, attention fixed on the television. He thinks he can feel it every time Eddie’s eyes dart over to look at him.
~*~
Later, after Eddie’s snuck into his bed around one a.m. and they’re laying there next to each other in the afterglow, Steve asks, “So the date really sucked?”
Eddie sighs. “I mean, he was nice and all, but there just wasn’t any, like… chemistry or whatever. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Steve responds, his voice low. Steve hadn’t been on a date in months, hadn’t felt the usual impulse to flirt with strangers incessantly. Robin kept saying he was in a lull or a slump or something, but Steve does start to feel lonely sometimes, especially when Robin is out with her girlfriend and Eddie has a date and he’s left to his own devices in their shared apartment. Even though, more often than not lately, Eddie’s dates almost always end in “emergency protocol” and the two of them wind up tangled in Steve’s sheets. Steve can’t help but think that it’s only a matter of time before all of this comes to an end, before Eddie finds someone who’s perfect for him.
Someone who isn’t Steve.
~*~
Three days later, Steve and Eddie wake up to the blaring honk of Steve’s alarm, wrapped around each other. Steve can’t help but notice the way Eddie looks when he’s just woken up, soft and rumpled, hair a tangled mess on top of his head.
“Ugh, make it stop,” Eddie groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Steve slams his hand down on his alarm clock and flops back onto his pillows, even though he really should be getting up for work. He wraps a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck before dropping a kiss to his forehead and pulling him back to lie against his chest.
“Don’t wanna get up yet,” Steve mutters, eyes falling shut again. The blankets are warm and soft and the weight of Eddie on his chest is enough to have him drifting back into sleep.
Eddie doesn’t let him though. Instead, he plants his palm on Steve’s chest and pushes himself upright, making Steve groan in dissatisfaction.
“Gotta get up, dude,” Eddie tells him, yawning and climbing out from under the covers to pull on his discarded sleep pants. “Got, like, seven engines to fix today. Something about spring, man, everyone’s car starts to break down.” Eddie pulls his t-shirt over his head before opening Steve’s door and sticking his head out, making sure the coast is clear.
Eddie leaves the door slightly open and crosses back to Steve’s bed, planting a kiss on Steve’s cheek, like he just can’t help himself.
“Won’t get off until late and then I have a date, so keep your phone at the ready,” Eddie smiles when he says it and Steve wants to trace his dimples with his tongue.
“Coming home first?”
“Nah, just gonna shower at the gym next door,” Eddie stretches. “See ya later, Stevie.” And then he’s out the door and slipping quickly into his own room down the hall.
Steve doesn’t like the way Eddie’s bedroom door sounds as it clicks shut.
~*~
Steve has the early shift at the store, so when he gets home in the late afternoon with two bags of groceries, he’s got the apartment to himself. Robin’s spending her weekend off with Vickie and Eddie’s still at work before heading off to his date.
Steve puts his groceries away, makes himself an early dinner, and then positions himself in front of the TV. He puts his phone face up on the coffee table, so he’ll see it when Eddie texts him to get out of his date.
He gets lost in the Real Housewives of Wherever for hours before he remembers he’s supposed to be keeping an eye on his phone. He taps the screen and sees there are no notifications. That’s weird. It’s already well past nine; Eddie usually texts by now for a rescue.
Steve sits back on the couch, eyes on his phone where it sits on the coffee table in front of him. He watches it for a few long moments, willing it to ring.
It doesn’t.
~*~
Hours later, Steve wakes up to the front door slamming shut. His face feels plastered to the leather of their second-hand couch. He knows it’s Eddie coming through the door because he’s the only one of them that lets it slam when it closes.
Steve reaches for his phone, still on the coffee table where he’s left it. He taps the screen and sees that it’s already after two in the morning. Eddie comes into the living room and seems surprised to see him on the couch.
“You’re still up?” He asks, eyebrows pulling together.
“You didn’t call,” Steve tries to make it sound casual, but even he hears the accusation in his own voice.
“Uh yeah. No. He was, uh. Kinda cool, actually,” Eddie smiles to himself and it looks so soft and sweet in the dim light of TV. Steve feels his chest go hollow seeing it. He swallows.
“Well,” Steve clears his throat. “That’s great.”
“Wanna hang out?” Eddie asks. Steve’s not sure if he means hang out or hang out, but either way, Steve can’t bring himself to say yes.
“Nah.” He yawns. “Early shift tomorrow.” It’s a lie, but who can blame him?
Steve gets up off the couch and crosses the room before Eddie can say anything.
“Oh, sure,” Eddie mutters as Steve brushes past him on his way into the hallway. “Goodnight, Stevie.”
Steve feels his throat constrict, like he might cry if Eddie says anything else. He clears his throat again. “‘Night,” he returns, before he shuts his bedroom door behind him.
~*~
Steve stews in it for a couple of days. He’s annoyed and grumpy and even Robin starts avoiding him after he snaps at her one too many times for no reason. He’s avoiding Eddie, but he suspects that Eddie is also avoiding him.
Which is absurd. It’s not like Steve changed the rules. He’s not the one who changed their routine. Who went on a date with someone else and enjoyed it.
That thought gives Steve pause because that’s not what this is, is it? He’s aware that he’s not very good at keeping his emotions out of his sex life. He knows he gets too attached too soon. But Eddie is his friend. You’re supposed to have emotions for your friends. You’re supposed to hate everyone they date. You’re supposed to want to spend all your time with them. Right?
Fuck. Fuck. Steve is maybe out of his depth here.
By Tuesday night, he has no choice but to go to Robin.
“I fucked up,” he says without preamble, walking into her room without knocking and flopping face first onto her unmade bed. She just watches him from where she sits at her desk in front of her laptop. Eddie has a late night band practice after work, so they’ve got the place to themselves.
“Yeah, how?” She asks.
“I… am not sure. But I feel bad.” Steve is practically whining at this point.
“Can I tell you what I think without you getting mad at me?” Robin’s tone is cautious in a way that it hardly ever is with Steve.
“When do I ever get mad?” Steve scowls at her, the side of his face smooshed into her pillow so he can see her.
“Gee, I wonder.” Robin rolls her eyes. “You’ve been testy since Saturday, babe.”
Steve huffs but it’s not like he can deny it, exactly.
“Whatever, I’m in a bad mood,” he grumbles, picking at a thread on her comforter.
“Yeah, and why do you think that is?” Robin’s question sounds decidedly pointed.
“I dunno. Full moon or something. Something’s in retrograde, probably.”
Robin sighs. “Look, I’m going to say something to you and I want you to just listen and synthesize the information, okay? Just shut up.” Steve grunts and Robin clearly takes that for assent. “I think that you’re in love with Eddie.”
She says it so matter-of-factly that Steve sits straight up on her bed so he can look at her fully. His eyes dart to her open door. “What?” He practically spits out.
Robin rolls her eyes again. “Yeah, whatever. I know I’m not supposed to know about the… whatever you want to call it. But you guys aren’t exactly subtle. Or quiet.” Steve’s jaw falls open. “I know you’ve been fooling around for months. And you haven’t had to figure out your feelings for each other because you haven’t been dating at all and every date Eddie’s been on he’s sabotaged himself. And now he’s had a great date and you’re feeling threatened, obviously. You’re jealous, Steve.”
Steve just looks at her for a moment, before saying, “I actually hate you so much.” He looks back over toward her open door. “Did he say it was a great date?”
“Ugh, you’re pathetic.” Robin balls up a piece of paper and throws it at him, before turning serious. “Just tell him, Stevie. I’m pretty sure he’s into you just as much as you’re into him. You should see the way he stares at your ass when he thinks no one’s looking. It’s truly disgusting.”
Steve throws the ball of paper back at Robin, hitting her squarely in her forehead.
~*~
Steve locks himself in his room for the rest of the night, obsessing over what Robin has told him. He tosses and turns all night thinking about it. He’s vaguely aware of the door slamming as Eddie comes in from band practice around midnight and he thinks that maybe Eddie might linger just a little longer outside Steve’s door, but he doesn’t knock. Just pauses before he moves on to his own room.
Steve wakes up late the next morning. He has to rush through his morning routine and by the time he makes it to the kitchen for breakfast, both Robin and Eddie have left for the day. Luckily, Steve has a midday shift, so he has a bit of time before he has to leave for the store. He leans against the counter, spooning cereal into his mouth. As he places his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink to clean after work, his eyes get caught on the whiteboard they have hanging on the fridge.
Second date tonight, keep phone handy -E
Steve feels his heart start beating fast, almost erratically. His fingertips go numb. He licks his lips and leaves the kitchen, slipping on his shoes and jacket and leaving for work.
~*~
Steve comes home to an empty apartment. Robin has some study group and Eddie has his date. Steve can’t help but feel a little depressed as he walks through the door to nothing but quiet.
He makes himself dinner. He puts something on the television. He places his phone face-up on the coffee table, just in case.
It doesn’t light up with a notification until well after nine. It’s a phone call. From Eddie.
Steve fumbles his phone as he lunges to pick it up.
“Hey,” he says into his phone’s speaker. “Thought you had a date.”
“Yeah,” Steve can tell Eddie’s smiling, even though he can’t see him. “Was wondering if you had some kind of emergency to tell me about?”
“Um.” Steve is confused. This isn’t the normal script. He’s supposed to call Eddie. Not the other way around. “I don’t. Know? I mean. Yeah. I… need you?”
“On my way, Stevie.” And then he hangs up.
~*~
Steve’s paused the TV and is sitting on the living room couch in silence by the time he hears the door slam shut. He looks up as Eddie walks into the room.
“Hey,” Eddie greets him, voice low. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah, been… busy.” Steve inwardly cringes at how he sounds, knows it’s a lame excuse, because Eddie knows him. He knows why he hasn’t seen Steve.
“Right,” Eddie smirks. “So… can we talk?”
“Sure, whatever.” Steve tries to sound casual, thinks he misses it by about a mile.
Eddie sits in the armchair instead of next to Steve on the couch. Steve tries not to take it as an insult.
“I was on a really good date tonight, Stevie,” Eddie tells him, voice soft and slow, like he’s breaking bad news to Steve. Steve’s heart clenches in chest, hard and painful. He nods, eyes on everything but Eddie. “He was cool and funny and actually had good taste in music.” Steve’s not exactly sure he really needs to hear this. “But…”
Steve feels a small flutter of hope in the pit of his stomach. “But?” He prompts, still not looking at Eddie.
“But.” Steve can tell from his tone that Eddie’s smiling again, that same smile he’d heard on the phone. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About sitting here watching dumb reality shows with your arm around me. Waiting for your call even though I hadn’t texted you.”
Steve’s eyes snap to Eddie’s. He licks his lips. “What.” He doesn’t say it like a question.
“I wanted to be with you, Stevie. Always wanna be with you.” Eddie looks nervous now. He pulls at a rip in his jeans. “Do you… what do you think about that?”
“I, uh.” Steve’s mouth is suddenly dry, voice just a little hoarse. “I think it’s… good.”
“Good?” Eddie snorts. “You think it’s good? Gonna need a little more here, Steve.” Eddie still looks a little nervous, but his smile is starting to form again.
“Yeah, like. Really good.” Steve licks his lips again. “I always wanna be with you, too,” he adds softly.
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, and he sounds vulnerable in a way that Steve’s never really heard before. He’s fully smiling again, small and soft, like maybe he can’t believe his luck.
Steve smiles back at him. “Yeah.”
And then they don’t say anything at all. Eddie crosses the small space between them and tackles Steve back against the couch. Their lips meet, soft at first. Then Steve let’s out a moan, opens his mouth under Eddie’s and the kisses turn decidedly less soft and more horny.
~*~
The next morning, Steve’s phone dings on his bedside table. He reaches over to read the screen.
Queen Robbie✨💕: love that u guys have figured ur shit out, but can we work out a system or something? i heard u [redacted] and then [redacted] and also [redacted]
Steve smiles before dropping his phone back on his bedside table and turning over in his bed. He pulls a sleeping Eddie into his arms and drops a tiny kiss to the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie lets out a sleepy little moan. Steve could get used to waking up like this every morning.
———
An anonymous benefactor gifted me with lyrics from “Paper Rings” and here is what I’ve done with them.
Just two things: 1. I have never seen Ghost Adventures, but I imagine it would be one of the only shows both Robin and Eddie could agree on and 2. I have never listened to Tame Impala, I know nothing abt the music (beyond the fact that it’s just one guy??? see, I am hip and cool, gen z), so this is not intentional slander, I promise!!! It’s just the first thing I thought of.
Oh ETA: I also know nothing abt cars or what mechanics do, I assume they sometimes fix engines.
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summerlovingbaby · 3 months
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tuna fish
Rhody Soul didn’t have much to smile about. His mom was dead, and his dad abadoned them, and he was stuck caring for his younger siblings. He loved them dearly, but was burdened by too much responsibility when he was only a kid himself, and it bothered him that he couldn’t give them the life the deserved. They deserved better than a trailer on the wrong side of town, but that was all Rhody could afford.
Nobody would give him legitimate work, so he was stuck doing unsavory work under the table. His jobs were frequent and low paying and he hated waking up everyday to be a crimminal. He hated leaving the trailer everymorning and kissing his siblings on the cheeks for what could have been the last time and going to work.
When he was younger he wanted to be a pilot, but now that idea seemed so childish. The only thing he had to look foreward to was the pretty girl he saw on the way to work. Her name was Y/N, and she worked in the sandwich shop a few blocks from the bar. She was one of the only people he could remember that still smiled at him, and he often more times than not smiled at him.
And after a long day at work, he would stroll into the sandwich shop and sit at the counter. And everyday he would sit with his elbow at the counter and his palm in his hand to smile at her. Every day he would ask the same question.
“ How’s the tuna?”
“ Same as yesterday, shitty,” she would always respond.
And everyday he would scarf down a tuna fish sandwich on white bread, even though it tasted awful and take the long walk back home. Everyday he thought he would come up with the courage to ask her out, but everyday he actively thought against it. Y/N was too good for him, she was too sweet, to kind to be with his cruelty. She would turn him down, or worse never smile at him again, and he wasn’t sure if he could get through the day without her smile.
Rhody Soul wasn’t quite sure how a day that started off so well, took a horrible turn. It was supposed to be a normal job, but he somehow found himself thrust into a situation that he couldn’t control. He was now in possession of a briefcase that belonged to a group terrorists who set to kill nearly everybody in the world.
His only companion was a green haired hero named Deku, who had a hero complex and a morality streak, but he still found himself liking Deku. He was nice in a way that other kids his age weren’t, and displayed true heroics unlike the heroes from his town. They only protected the rich, and he wasn’t rich so they didn’t protect him or his family. Deku seemed to be a hero for the right reasons, he just wanted to do the right thing in a way that was so honest Rhody couldn’t fault him. And then, after Rhody made a stupidly rash decision despreate to get home, Deku took a arrow for him.
Rhody nearly sick with guilt attempted to patch Deku up the best he could. Why Deku saved him, Rhody didn’t understand, but the only thing he knew now as that he had to return the favor. The two talked, about their lives back home.
“ Who is she?” Deku asked with a smile. Rhody just finished telling him about his sister and brother, but a smile glanced across his face at the name he couldn’t mention.
“ What?”
“ By the way you’re smiling I assume it’s a girl… or a boy?” Deku asked.
“ I-” he hesitated, but then he decided he could trut Deku, and he realized that what he wanted more than anything was to talk about her, tell someone about the greatness of her smile or the brilliance behind her eyes. “ Her name is Y/N, she works at the sandwich shop a few doors down. I keep meaning to ask her out, but chicken out everytime.”
“ Why?”
“ She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. I go to her sandwich shop every day and order a tuna sandwich just because it seems to amuse her, even though it was the worst thing on the menu. Everyday I wake up, and the only thing that could get me out of that trailer was the hope that I could see her, even if it was only for a minute. And talking to her makes me smile, even on the bad days, the days that I hate my dad, and the days that I miss my mom, or when I get overwhelmed with the kids, she was just always there and made me feel better.”
“ Why won’t you ask her out then? You seem to like her.”
“ I do like her,” Rhody admitted. He liked her alot, he liked her more than he knew what to do with. “ I just don’t want to ruin our friendship, she’s one of the best things in my life and I don’t want to lose her.” Rhody said. “ I mean I keep meaning to, but I never had a reason to. Maybe after all this is over I can tell her how I feel,” he said. He waved his arms, motioning to the cave around them. “ This whole situation gave me perspective.”
Y/N watched helplessly as Rhody was apprehended by the police and then shot at when he didn’t comply. She called him as many times and left about 60 voicemails before his voicemail was full and texted him as many times as her phone plan allowed. Worry gnawed at her insides, and she nearly made herself sick over it.  Two days of complete radio silence, after he was believed to be a suspect in a terriost attack, she couldn’t help but think the worst. That he was dead, and she would never get the chance to hear his contaigous laugh again, and that she never got the chance to go on a date with him.
Everyday he came into her little sandwich shop on the corner and ate the worst thing on the menu. And everyday she made poor attempts to flirt with him, but he seemed generally unreceptive. One day she found herself looking forward to him stopping by during dinner, and waiting for him to order the shit tuna sandwhich and make flirty small talk. 
Two days later she got a phone call from a unnamed number, and for some reason she answered it. By the sound of it, it sounded like a teenage boy, and she almost hung up believing it was a sick prank call, but then she was told something that she couldn’t help but believe. After two days of thinking her favorite person was dead, the hope that he might be alive was too much to ignore.
She found Deku waiting outside the hospital, he smiled wide at the sight of her. She was every bit as pretty as Rhody described, and seemed just as sweet. She brought him a bouquet of flowers, and was shaking with nerves.
Deku showed her to the room and she nearly burst into tears. Rhody had a successful surgery, and was off the ventalitor but was stilla attached to tubes and wires. His skin was pale and his hair was limp against the pillow. It was hard for Deku to see him like that and he only knew Rhody for a week, so he could only imagine what it was like for the girl who spent every dinner with him for the past two years.
Deku helped her to the chair sitting next to her bed, and asked the nurses for a container for the water. Deku pulled up a chair next to her to wait. The doctors told him, that while medically he was still okay, he was still in a coma, and there was no telling when he would wake up, or even if he would wake up at all. 
“ Do Roro and Lala know?” she asked quietly.
“ Yes, there with hero’s until we can find a better situation for them. They said that theres an aunt they’re looking for, trying to keep them out of the system and keep them together if we can help it.”
“ That’s good,” she said quietly. Her fingers stroked the hair out of Rhodys face, flinching at the coldness of his skin.
“ He told me about you,” Deku spoke suddenly, Y/N looked up at him, and blinked away the tears. “Yeah, he talked about you alot, told me all about the tuna sandwiches.”
“ He tell you they were shit?”
“ Yeah, didn’t stick around for the sandwiches, he stuck around for you.” Deku said.
“ He did what?”
“ He wanted to ask you out but never got the chance,” Deku said quietly. “ Thought he would want you to know, in case…” his voice dropped off, not wanting to state the obvious, that Rhody might never get the chance, that he might die very soon.
She stuttered something, then let herself fall forward on the bed. Her forehead resting on his forearm as she struggled to breathe against the stale hospital comforter. She fell asleep soon after, tears tired her to exhaustion, and days of worried adrenaline finally faded and she collapsed into exhaustion.
Hours later she woke up on  the cot on the other side of the room. Someone jammed an IV in her arm. The sound of a laugh woke her up with a start, and when she rolled over to look at the bed, she saw a sight that made her smile. Rhody was sitting upright, poking at lime jello and talking to Deku.
“ Rhody?”
“ Hi,” he whispered in her direction. “ Heard you were worried about me,” he said cockily.
“ I hate you,” she said half heartdly. The hope of his recovery was almost too much for her to believe in, but here he was upright and otherwise fine, and it took everything in her not to throw herself over him and cry. Doing that would be decidedly uncool.
“ No you don’t,” he smiled.
“ I’m glad you’re okay.”
“ I figured,” he said. 
She walked to the side of his bed and stood bedside. She wanted to slap him across the face for worrying her but could only smile.
“ Can I kiss you,” she asked softly.
Rhody looked at her incrediously. “ Excuse me?”
“ Since you are such a moron who can’t tell a shit tuna sandwhich from flirting, I’m being very obvious. I like you Rhody, I’ve liked you for a year and a half, now are you gonna let me kiss you, or is your heart gonna stop when I do?”
Rhody could only nod, his voice trapped somewhere in his lungs. He was to baffled to believe what he heard. She had been flirting with him for a year and a half and he was too much of a dense idiot to notice. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, you would think with all the time he thought about kissing her, he would be more prepared for what it felt like. The kiss felt like safety and home and trust and everything he lost when his dad left, and reminded him of everything he wanted to keep close.
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footprintsinthesxnd · 7 months
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Chapter 5: The Dangerous Skies
Gale Cleven × Hope Armstrong (ofc)
Series Masterlist
This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.
This chapter has been a while in the making and a small idea that erupted into a whole lot of chaos. Please comment and reblog and let us know what you think.
Summary: After an accident causes Gale to realise how precious, he decides to make the most of everyday with the woman he loves. While John realises how he really feels about Ruth.
Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads
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Monday, August 23, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich
Regensburg, Germany…the mission that earned the Hundredth its nickname was finally over.
Nine forts lost.
Ninety men gone just like that.
Ninety boys who would not return to their families.
Among these ninety men was Curt. Buck and John were still in shock when their small group of officers tiredly pushed through the doors into their nissen hut. A few beds were made with fresh sheets, all remnants of their previous owners long gone.
Gale flopped down on his bunk, throwing his kitbag down beside him. There was a small stack of letters on his nightstand and he stretched over the bed, his fingers grasping at the string that bound them together. His fingers running over the familiar return address as he tore open the first letter from Hope, his eyes scanning over her words quickly, desperate to know what she had written. He still had her picture from the plane tucked firmly into his pocket, he wasn’t about to leave her behind in Africa.
August 17th 1943
To my dearest Gale,
I can’t even begin to explain how worried I am about you. Ruth and I barely slept last night, thinking of you both preparing for your mission. I did not think it was possible to miss someone so much and after only a few hours apart as I write this. I miss you Gale. Today was perfect and I wish I could live there forever, in your arms by the river, with Meatball too of course.
The radio is playing our song right now. Well, I call it our song “You’ll Never Know” which is a strange choice for our song maybe because I only hope you do know just how much I love you. I wish you were here now to sing it with me.
I have been thinking about our lives after this war. When we get home. I saw how you were with Meatball the other day and I think our first order of business as a married couple should be to get a dog. Just think of all the walks we could go on, just the three of us. Life would be so perfect.
The only comfort I can find is knowing that I’ll be there with you on your mission, and not just my picture but I’ll be with you in spirit all the way there and back. And I know you will come back. I have asked Hugh to keep you safe and I know that you will look out for him too. I never realised how hard it would be to have both of you in harms way. I can only hope that his stubbornness and your skills will bring you both safely home to me. You mean the world to me Gale.
Yours forever
Hope
Gale smiled fondly, his eyes lingering on ‘yours forever’. He still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up with someone as amazing and kind as Hope, but he thanked God every night for bringing her to him. The second letter was addressed August 19th, just two days after the previous letter and Gale smirked, knowing that Hope didn’t want to seem desperate but she was just as worried as he was.
Dear Gale,
It’s been exactly two days, four hours and twenty four minutes since I last wrote to you and I couldn’t contain myself any longer.
She was counting down the days. Gale's heart swelled at the thought of her, sitting at the desk in the corner of the girls room, her pen sitting between her lips as she pondered what to write.
Somehow parting with you this time was so much worse than any of the others. It’s like I left a piece of my heart at Thorpe Abbott with you. I hope you’re keeping my heart safe wherever you are because I need you to bring it back to me.
Ruth has already begun to design her bridesmaid dress for our wedding and I fear she has broken the news to John already, I hope that doesn’t put you in a bind or anything. I think she is as excited as I am. Frank has also been enquiring into wedding planning. I feel like they will have planned the whole event before we are even officially engaged.
Mrs Hope Cleven does have a nice ring to it. I’ve also thought more about the situation of a dog once we are back in the states and I like the sound of a spaniel. They have the sweetest little faces and the biggest droopy ears. I can’t stop imagining the three of us exploring the country together.
I apologies if I’m getting ahead of myself. I know you haven’t officially proposed and you must think me a foolish girl for talking about it so much, but it’s the only thing that gets me through each day without you. The only thing that gets me into our plane in the morning is the thought of you and one day being in your arms once more.
On another note, I hope Hugh is keeping out of trouble. I’m afraid he’s been drawn to it since he was a boy creating havoc wherever he went. You’re lucky he likes you, otherwise I’m afraid he would be giving you hell.
Come back to me Gale. I love you.
Yours forever
Hope
The third letter soon followed, dated August 21st.
To my dearest Gale,
I’m sorry for sending so many letters. I’m sure you are so busy so please do not feel obliged to reply to them all separately. I find writing to you helps calm my nerves, it’s the only way I feel close to you when you are not here.
“So what’s this I hear you’re engaged to my sister?” Gale’s head shot up and he came face to face with Hugh, who was staring blankly at him. He couldn’t read his emotions and didn’t know whether he was happy or he was about to punch Gale in the face. Swallowing hard, Gale nodded slowly, eyeing his fellow pilot cautiously until a wide grin broke out across Hugh’s face and he jumped up, moving to sit next to Gale on his bunk.
“I’m so happy for you, Gale. Good luck with that one, she acts all sweet and innocent but she’s a wild card. You know what I told you about Kansas City.”
Gale laughed, relieved that Hugh wasn’t about to try and murder him.
“So, have you got a ring?” Hugh cocked an eyebrow at him and Gale shook his head.
“No, not yet. I haven’t even officially asked her,” Gale sighed, suddenly feeling guilty that he’d somehow lied to her by not actually asking her.
“Well, then you are in luck because I do,” Hugh stood up from the bed and moved over to his own, rummaging in the bedside cabinet for a few minutes, while Gale looked on confused.
“Ah ha!” Hugh called out triumphantly, his hand clasped around a small black box which he quickly placed in Gale’s hand.
“What’s this?” Gale glanced down it the box, running his thumb over the round, leather box.
“That, Gale, is an engagement ring,” Hugh grinned, seemingly impressed with himself for producing a ring out of thin air.
“But why have you got an engagement ring?” Gale glanced up at Hugh, watching as his face fell a little.
“Well, it’s a long story. There was a girl back in the States, I thought she was the one. Turns out while I was training to fly B17s, she was making her way around all the single men in town. My parents were less than impressed when they found out. But I already had a ring so I bought it with me.”
Gale chuckled, “So you bought an engagement ring to war just in case?”
Hugh nodded, “Pretty much. Well, it came in use right, now you can give it to Hope.”
Gale shook his head, pushing the box back into Hugh’s hand, “I can’t take this. It’s your ring.”
Hugh passed the box back to Gale, shaking his head, “But I want you to have it. I have no use for it and anyway, I know Hope will love it because she helped me pick it out in the first place.” Hugh lay his hand on Gale’s back. “Take it, please.”
Gale smiled weakly, opening up the box and revealing a small gold band with intricate silver weaving on either side and a diamond on top. “Alright, thanks, Hugh.” He shook his fellow pilot's hand, and Hugh grinned happily back at him.
“Welcome to the family, Cleven.”
“Got any big news you wanna share with the class, Buck?” John asked from his bed, raising his eyebrows at Gale while holding up a letter.
Gale confusedly looked over at him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Rolling his eyes at Hugh, Buck sauntered over to John, standing over him with hands on his hips. “What are you talking about?”
“Mrs. Hope Cleven,” the older man grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
A bashful smile appeared on Gale’s face. “I’ve got a ring and everything, now. It’ll be after all this is over.”
Standing to his feet, Bucky pulled him into a tight hug and lifted him off the ground. “Whenever it happens, I better be the best man! That’s all I’m sayin’.”
“Yeah, yeah, you will be,” Buck chuckled as John put him down, releasing him from his grip. “Just don’t tell Hugh that.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Hugh shouted across the officer's hut causing Gale to groan.
“Well, it makes sense. I am Buck’s best friend,” John retorted, sending a sly smirk Hugh’s way which only riled the man further.
“Yeah, and Hope’s my sister. I’m his future brother-in-law.”
Gale stepped back as Hugh stomped over to them, coming chest to chest with John who just continued to playfully glare down at him.
“So what? You're a St. Louis fan,” Bucky pointed at him, a grin tugging at his lips. “That instantly makes you not best man material.”
Hugh snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and I suppose you being a great Yankees fan makes you the right choice, huh?”
“Absolutely,” John replied matter of factly. “How can you cheer for a team who lost 11-3 to the Pirates? The Pirates.”
“At least we didn’t get shut out by the Indians.”
Gale knew this wasn’t going to end well. No one could insult the Yankees and get away with that in John’s eyes...except for Ruth, of course. Before John could find a comeback, Gale stepped up, moving to stand between the two men.
“Now, now. I’m not having you two fighting over being my best man. If it’s that much of a problem I’ll make Demarco my best man and Meatball can be the ring bearer.”
Neither of the men seemed too pleased with that outcome.
“Not Demarco!”
“Yes Demarco.”
John groaned, pursing his lips, and Hugh remained silent, looking at the ground solemnly at their childish behaviour.
“You should choose whoever you want to be your best man, but-” John began with a nod before Hugh interrupted.
“Yeah pick who you want, Gale. Hope will probably want me to walk her down the aisle anyway so I’ll probably be in the bridal party instead.”
John snickered with raised brows as he imagined Hugh in a bridesmaid’s dress, but he fell silent when Gale elbowed him in the ribs, glaring at him.
“Come here,” Bucky pulled Gale into another hug and slapped his friend’s back, “Congratulations Buck! You’re a helluva guy.”
“The best,” Hugh added.
As they stood there celebrating Buck’s life-changing news, the trio couldn’t help but think of their close friend who wasn’t. Their group got even smaller…
“Curt…he would,” John cleared his throat and nodded, forcing down the emotion that threatened to creep up his throat. “He would be happy for you, Buck.”
Gale’s eyes met Bucky’s and they mirrored the same emotions…hurt, regret, sadness. The men who came back never talked about those who didn’t, and both of them knew this was the one time they would.
“Yeah, he would,” Buck breathed, one side of his lips barely turning up into a mournful smile.
Silence filled the air around them there for a few moments, all three stuck in their minds until Gale spoke up.
“That from Ruth?” Buck asked, gesturing to the letter in Johnny’s hand.
He nodded once and sat down on his bunk with a soft smile, suddenly remembering the last half of Ruth’s letter he still had to read. “I’ve got another one to read after this one. Then I’ve gotta write her back.”
As Gale looked down at his friend’s lovesick gaze, he smiled to himself and shook his head. If someone had asked him if John Egan would be rushing to read love letters and send a response to a woman, one woman, whom he’d been exclusively seeing for over a month, Buck Cleven would’ve told them they were crazy.
“Tell her I said hello,” Gale said quietly, patting Johnny’s shoulder before returning to his bunk.
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Saturday, August 28, 1944: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base
John, Gale, and Hugh were riding from their nissen huts to the mess hall when the familiar roar of a C-47 filled the air. They were used to the sound meaning their girls were on base, and it filled them with excitement as they peddled faster to the landing strip.
“Did you know they were coming today?” Buck asked, quickly glancing over at Johnny and Hugh.
John shook his head, a lazy grin curving his lips. “No, Ruth didn’t mention it in her last letter.”
Nodding to himself, Gale couldn’t shake the feeling deep down that something was wrong. As they approached the airstrip, Colonel Harding appeared, calling out to John.
“Bucky! I need a minute,” he yelled from the balcony of the nearby flight tower.
Holding in a groan, Johnny nodded at Hugh and turned his bike toward the tower. “Tell Ruth I’ll see her in a minute.”
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The boys had been thankful they didn’t have a mission that day, and instead spent their time on base with their girls. Gale and Hope had gone back to the officers Nissan hut and spent most of the day cuddling on the bed after their shower, happy to be back in each other's arms. Ruth and John had spent the rest of the day together too, giving Hope some time alone to recover, before coming back to the hut in the afternoon.
After Ruth and John left the Nissan hut, Gale found himself dozing once more, his eyes growing heavy as he fought off sleep. A light knock on the door roused him.
“Come in.”
A worried Hugh poked his head around the door, chewing his lip anxiously, a habit that Gale noticed Hope always did. “Can I come in?” He asked, glancing at his sleeping sister.
“Of course,” Gale waved him in and watched as his fellow pilot made his way over, flopping down on his cot beside them.
“How’s she doing?” Hugh found himself fighting the urge to brush the loose hair off Hope’s face, smiling when Gale did the same. It was unusual for an older brother to approve of his sister's choice of partner, but Hugh didn’t think that there was a more genuine, or honourable man out there than Gale Cleven.
“She’s doing okay. The morphine had helped, she was in a lot of pain earlier but she’s managed to get some rest,” Gale admitted, stroking her hair softly. He couldn’t help the gentle smile that formed on his lips every time he looked at her.
“That’s good then,” Hugh went to stand when he noticed the ring adoring Hope’s finger and a wide smile spread across his face. “You popped the question then.”
Gale smiled, “I did, and she said yes.”
Hugh laughed at the proud expression on Gale’s face. “Well I didn’t exactly expect her to say no. She’s all you talk about in her letters. Our parents are excited to meet you. She sent a picture of you home and if I remember correctly my mother thought you were ‘a fine young man’.” Hugh moved to rest his hand on Gale’s shoulder, “I’m real happy for you both, you deserve to be happy.”
“Thanks Charliee,” the two men kept eye contact until Hugh cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. “I best be heading back. I promised Demarco I’d look after Meatball for a few hours.”
Gale nodded, “Feel free to bring Meatball by, I’m sure Hope would appreciate the visit. Our first order of business after the wedding is to get a dog.”
Hugh smirked, “Is it a spaniel by any chance? She’s always had a soft spot…”
“For the long fluffy ears,” Gale finished, “Yeah it is.”
Hugh snorted, “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gale glanced back down at Hope, she looked so peaceful that he hated to wake her. The door closing softly signaled Hugh leaving and Gale sighed, leaning back against his pillow.
He smoothed his hand over Hope’s head, brushing the soft locks away from her face, fingers tracing the pale flesh of her temples. His other hand remained firmly around hers, wrapping them close to his chest, over his heartbeat. He hadn’t truly processed how close he’d come to losing her today, if the shrapnel had gone any further to the left it would have hit her femoral artery and she’d have bled out before the plane even touched the tarmac. Gale shook the thought from his mind, trying to concentrate on Hope’s rhythmic breathing in time with his own. She’s alive. She’s still here.
Gale had known this war wouldn’t be easy, he’d known that he would lose people, friends, brothers, but he hadn’t banked on falling in love and he hadn’t banked on her being up in the air during combat like he was.
Hope snuggled deeper into his chest and Gale’s arm instinctively pulled her closer. They had survived another day: together.
Gale’s mind began to wonder as his eyes traced the elongated semicircles that lined the roof of the Nissen hut. Thinking back on happier times when the girls visiting the base meant that it was going to be a good day.
Hope sighed loudly, folding up the third crate of dressing material, and packing it into the smaller crates to be loaded onto their C47 later that afternoon. It was a tiresome, mind numbing job but someone had to do it. A loud crash, followed by a small whine caused Hope to shoot up for her seat, hurting towards the noise where she found a rather disheveled looking navigator sitting on the infirmary room floor.
“Oh you poor thing. Here come take a seat,” Hope ushered the rather green looking navigator towards the empty chair.
The man plonked himself down with a sigh, gratefully accepting the glass of water Hope offered to him.
“Whatever’s the matter…?” Hope asked, pausing as she realised she didn’t know the man’s name, although she recognised him from around the base.
“Oh Harry, Harry Crosby,” the man thrust his hand pathetically forward and Hope shook it carefully. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I'm normally fine once we’re in the air. All the boys will be rigging me later for being in dock again.”
Realising that this must be the navigator with air sickness she had heard about from the infirmary’s doctor, Hope sighed, “It’s alright. Everything’s different up there when you're in combat. It’s bound to play on your nerves,” Hope reassured him, smoothing the sweaty hair away from his forehead and placing a cool, wet cloth there instead.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Hope whispered, glancing over her shoulder jokingly to make sure no one else was around. “I used to get terribly air sick when I first started my flight training.”
“Really?” Harry asked in amazement, his large eyes staring back at her reminded Hope of an excitable child.
“Oh yeah, I was terrible. I took a bucket up with me on every flight and tried not to eat in the mornings but I was still sick, every damn time.”
Harry wrinkled his nose before asking, “But you're not sick anymore?”
“No. Not anymore, luckily. I don’t think I’d have made much of a flight nurse if I was being sick all the time.”
Harry looked down sadly at his map case, “I don’t suppose I make much of a navigator either.”
Hope pulled her chair closer to Harry’s, “Now you listen here. You are a fine navigator Harry Crosby. You navigated through flak fire and you bought all the boys home. That is not something to be snubbed at, understood.” Harry nodded quickly and Hope gave him a reassuring smile. “Good. I don’t want to hear any more negative talk, alright? You’re good at your job, Harry and with time the sickness will fade, I promise.”
Harry stayed a little longer until his nausea subsided and he finally felt well enough to leave the infirmary. Hope began to tidy away some bandages when Gale stuck his head around the door.
“Knock, Knock?”
“Hello Major, and what brings you down here today?” Hope asked, smiling brightly at him.
“Oh I’m just here to see the prettiest girl in all of England. Have you seen her around?” Gale asked, glancing quickly around the infirmary before his eyes returned to Hope’s.
“No, I'm afraid I can’t say I have. Better luck next time, Major.” Hope turned her back to move away from him but his hands quickly found her waist and he spun her around.
“Not so fast, Beautiful. I haven’t seen My Baby all day and I’ve missed you like crazy.”
“Your Baby, huh?”
“Well yeah. Well you see the plane is ‘Our Baby’ because the whole crew get her but only I get ‘My Baby’,” he nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck, his breath tickling her as he kissed her pressure point gently.
“Is that so?”
“Oh it is so.”
“Well then, there’s only one thing for it,” Hope pressed her lips firmly to his, weaving her fingers into his hair and pushing him towards the table. As the backs of his thighs came into contact with it, he sat down, allowing Hope the height advantage but allowing himself to wrap his arms tightly around her torso.
“Now this is what you call a welcome home,” he laughed between kisses, pulling Hope even closer so they could embrace. The table creaked beneath Gale’s wait but he was unphased, too preoccupied with holding his girl, to finally have her back in his arms, that’s all that mattered.
Gale smiled, eyes closed as the images of Hope’s smiling face filled his mind. She was here. She was safe and that’s all that mattered.
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Hugh returned later that evening with food for the two couples and Meatball following along at his heels. The large husky made a beeline for Hope, greeting her at the side of the bed.
“Hey Meatball,” Hope mumbled, leaning as far as she could to ruffle the dogs fur. Meatball groaned when she began scratching his ear, he closed his eyes and tilted his head, expressing his enjoyment. “Who's a good boy?” Meatball hopped up on the bed, snuggling into Hope’s side.
“You can keep him if you want. The damn thing keeps howling. It’s driving me insane,” Hugh complained, passing Hope a bowl of steaming soup. “When Demarco gets back I’m giving him a piece of my mind, leaving me to mind his dog all afternoon.”
Hope accepted the soup gratefully, but could only manage a few mouthfuls until the wave of nausea washed over her once more, and she placed the bowl down.
“Ugh, I feel so sick.”
Gale was at her side in an instant, his hand resting on the small of her back as she bent over, head in her hands. Ruth looked anxiously at John from their seats on John’s bed and started to put down her bowl to help when Hope spoke up.
“It’s okay Gale, it’s just the morphine,” she reassured him, squeezing his hand, to which he pressed his lips to her shoulder blade.
Hugh sniggered, “He didn’t get you pregnant while I was away did he?”
“With us in here? Sounds like a nightmare,” John chuckled, rolling his eyes at the same time Ruth grimaced from beside him. She knew a signature Hope Armstrong comeback was incoming.
Hope glared at him,”The fact that you have so little knowledge on pregnancy concerns me for your future wife.”
Hugh stuck his tongue out in response, “That’s not a no though.”
The pillow from Gale’s bed was a near miss as it went sailing past Hugh’s head and he dodged it dramatically, glaring at his sister.
“Come on, with all the ‘Dear John’ letters Sparky gets, I’d be surprised if he ever settles down,” John joined in.
“Look who’s talking, Bucky,” Hugh retorted, pointing at Ruth with his spoon. “At least I got letters. You didn’t get a single one before Ruth came along.”
“Really?” Ruth asked quietly, surprise etched on her face.
The Major nodded with pursed lips, pushing the vegetables around his bowl before looking over at her with a small smile. “There was no one worth writing to.”
At his words, the blonde’s cheeks heated, and she got caught in his gaze.
From their position across the room, Gale and Hope watched the interaction with fond smiles, both happy to see their friends with someone who clearly adored them. But the moment was interrupted when Hugh burst out laughing.
“Well that didn’t stop you from-”
He was cut off when a pillow came sailing into the side of his face, knocking some of his soup onto his pants as the pillow fell to the bed. Hugh’s gaze flicked towards the cot the projectile came from, ready to yell at Hope, but what he wasn’t expecting was her wide eyes as she stared up at Buck in awe.
“Sorry, Charlie,” Buck shrugged. “It just slipped.”
Ruth and Hope broke into chuckles, but John just sent Gale a thankful glance. Bucky then turned his attention to Hugh, and the two pilots glared at each other, John frustrated about the comment, and Hugh still clearly sour over the best man situation. They soon gave up and went back to their soup.
After a few minutes
Once they’d finished their supper, a knock sounded at the door. “Everyone decent in there? Girls?”
Frank.
“Uh, yeah,” John called, lifting an eyebrow at Ruth.
The door swung open and the Captain walked in with his lips in a straight line. “Thought you two’d be in here,” he nodded before turning to Hope. “How’s the leg?”
“I’m okay. Still hurts like a bitch, though.”
“Did you get it checked?”
Her face shifted into a grimace at the question. “I took care of it.”
“You, Hope Armstrong,” he sighed. “Are the reason I drink.”
“You know you love us,” Ruth added, tilting her head with a grin.
Frank’s attention drifted to Ruth’s figure beside John. “And how are you, Ruthie?”
The blonde looked up at John, thinking of how he’d taken care of her throughout the day. “Better now.”
“Alright, enough of the lovey eyes, you two,” he called out to them, taking a deep breath and placing his hands on his hips. “The Angel’s out of commission, and the Grove can’t send anyone tonight with the blackout, so we’re stuck here for the night.”
Both couples perked up at the news, but Hugh just groaned.
“As much as I wish I could make you stay with the Red Cross girls, I know I can’t. So you two,” Frank pointed at Gale and John. “No funny business, okay? None.”
Johnny’s mouth twitched, almost quirking into a smirk, but he was able to hold it in as Buck replied with a “Yes sir.”
“Zero funny business,” Bucky fake saluted from his bunk.
Running a hand down his tired face, Frank scratched his mustache. “Hugh, I’m counting on you to keep an eye on them.”
“Trust me, I will.”
“Alright. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
Frank disappeared, the door closed behind him with a slam, and they all visibly relaxed. Hope moved to shuffle back onto the bed beside Gale, the wave of nausea having passed when the door flew open again.
A cool breeze filled the hut as five men strolled into the hut, apparently oblivious of the girls until the one at the front of the column spoke up.
“Would you look at that? Major ‘no girls in the hut’ Cleven has a girl on his bed,” he pointed at Hope before the man behind him tapped his shoulder, causing him to turn and notice Ruth. “And Egan, too. Christ, I’m surprised Charlie hasn’t joined in.”
Gale sighed, standing up and placing his hand on Hope’s shoulder, “Hope, Ruth, these are the boys.” Buck took a breath to introduce them, but John beat him to it.
“DEMARCO,” John hollered, causing Gale to groan at his friend’s childish antics.
Demarco just smiled, “Egan,” he greeted him before motioning towards Ruth, “How did you manage to snag yourself such an attractive broad?”
Ruth blushed under the other man’s gaze but John just chuckled beside her, “Must be my endless charm.”
“Sure thing, Major,” Demarco snorted, his voice lowering to a whisper as he glanced down at Ruth, “Blink twice if you need help.”
With a shove from John, Benny laughed turning his attention back to Hope and Gale, while Bubbles moved over to greet Ruth, having already met him earlier that day.
“And you must be the lovely Hope that Meatballs told me about. He’s taken a shine to you,” Demarco motioned towards Gale, “Shame this one keeps third-wheeling your dates.
Hope giggled, turning her head to look at Gale who is now leaning against the headboard, “You may have some competition, Major.”
Gale hummed in amusement, “How am I supposed to compete with his charming personality.” As if the husky knew they were talking about him, he let out a low groan, stretching out across Gale’s bed.
An argument had broken out between John and Jack regarding a certain jeep that Gale and Hope had yet to hear about. Hope shuffled up the bed, wincing as the stitches pulled.
“Are you okay?” Gale’s hands came to rest on her hip, as he watched her worriedly. His bright eyes widened slightly as he noticed Hope’s lip quivering before she replied.
“Yeah, just sore. I need to change my bandage, it’s oozing through…” Before Hope could finish her sentence, Gale’s hand slipped beneath her shirt, noticing the blood leaking through the bandage.
“Hope…” he whispered under his breath, his forehead creasing as he lowered his head to look closer at the wound, but she swatted him away.
“Gale, I’m fine,” she sent him a weak smile, her hand coming to rest of his cheek and she stroked it slowly. “I’m okay. I just need to change the dressing.”
Gale nodded slowly, helping Hope move off the bed and to the back of the hut where they could have a little more privacy, while John continued to bicker with his fellow pilots.
Gale sat her down on a chair, facing away from the other men before he pushed the shirt up to expose her thighs. He unwound the dressing, exposing the rudimentary sutured wound. It was red and angry and hot to the touch.
“Hope, this might be infected. I think I’m the morning before you head back to Berkshire we should head to the infirmary.” Hope raised her eyebrow, giving him a doubtful look to which he shook his head, “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Hope sighed, leaning back in the chair as Gale worked to clean gently around the wound, using the gauze to wipe away the blood. Hope didn’t particularly like the way the wound looked either and even she would admit that she at least needed some penicillin.
“Alright,” she replied reluctantly and Gale chortled.
“This must be the first time you haven’t argued about something, you must be feeling unwell,” Gale whimpered as she smacked him lightly on the head, unamused by his comment.
“Just get to work, Doctor Cleven. I wanna go to bed.”
Something in Gale’s eyes changed at that comment, his eyes normally as clear as a summer's sky, seemed dark and stormy.
“Doctor Cleven, I could get used to that.” Hope hummed in appreciation as Gale’s lips met her thigh, just below where the shrapnel had hit. His warm hands massaged the rigid muscles in the hope of releasing some of the tension of the day.
“Don’t get too used to it,” Hope mumbled, running her fingers through Gale’s blonde locks, “You’ll always be Major Cleven to me. Well, unless you change careers or something.” Hope thought for a moment, “Hmm Doctor Cleven, Major Cleven… Professor Cleven has a ring to it.”
“Professor, huh,” Gale smiled, the grin nearly reaching his eyes. “I see you’ve got it all planned out, Nurse Armstrong.”
Gale made a surprisingly good nurse and he soon had a fresh bandage wrapped neatly around Hope’s leg. He even went as far as to check the tension, as he’d seen Hope go so many times with wounded soldiers.
In the time it took Gale to redress Hope’s leg, Ruth and John had disappeared outside, Hugh was lounging across his cot chatting to Bubbles and Veal. Kidd had given up arguing with John and was reading John’s battered copy of ‘Guys and Dolls’, as for Meatball, he’d finally moved over to Demarco’s bed, lounging across the cover while Benny was on his hands and knees, rummaging beneath the cot.
"Hey, where's my pillow?" Benny asked, his eyes scanning the surrounding beds with a creased brow.
“Here!” Hugh launched the pillow across the room, smacking Demarco square in the face.
“What the hell was that for?” Benny went to stand but Gale pushed him backwards onto his cot.
“Now, now boys, we’ve got female guests. Let’s not get too rowdy tonight, alright?” A few silent nods seemed to satisfy Gale and Hope couldn’t help the amused smirk she sent his way. The Air Force hadn’t just given Gale friends, but an unruly group of men who acted like teenage boys and who Gale had become the adopted father of.
Hope slipped under the sheets, sighing as the thin mattress sunk under her weight. Gale slipped in beside her, careful to avoid knocking her injured leg, and his left instinctively found its home on her waist, while he used his other arm to prop himself up, running his fingers soothingly through her brown locks.
“Today was a good day,” Hope mumbled, her voice muffled with sleep, as she fought to keep her eyes open.
“A good day? Hope you could have… I could have…” Gale’s voice thick with emotion as he tried to find the words he wanted. Hope rolled over to face him, glancing up at his crumpled features. He looked utterly broken and a silent sob left his lips before the tears began to fall.
“Oh Gale,” Hope reached up, gripping onto Gale and pulling him against her chest. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Her fingers danced up and down his spine, as he sobbed into the crook of her neck, allowing the emotions he’d been bottling to finally release.
“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m okay. You’ve got me,” Hope kept repeating like a mantra for both of them. They were both okay.
Gale pulled away, a teardrop hanging off the end of his nose as he spoke, “I love you so much, Hope. I don’t know what I’d do if… if…”
“Shh Gale, please don’t cry. It’s okay. Look,” she placed her left hand above his heart, her engagement ring clearly in view and Gale could himself run his fingers over the small gold ring.
“I still can’t believe you said yes,” he admitted, cupping Hope’s cheek and placing a loving kiss on her lips.
“As if my answer would have been anything other than a yes. I love you, Gale with all my heart.”
Gale pulled Hope down with him, nuzzling into her neck and placing small, chaste kisses along her collarbone.
“Didn’t think our first time in bed together would be quite like this,” he mused, kissing Hope’s forehead.
“No, neither did I,” Hope laughed, “In fact, I had a very different image.” Hope began to speak again when Hugh called out.
“Hey, no funny business, Cleven. You hear what Frank said and I don’t want to get on the wrong side of him.”
Gale sighed and went to reply but Hope interrupted him, peaking out above Gale’s shoulder, “Hugh, would you give it a rest, just for one goddamn night. Please.”
Hugh raised his hands in surrender, turning back to his conversation with Bubbles. Gale smiled in awe at Hope’s ability to shut Hugh up.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” Gale placed another kiss on Hope’s forehead, pulling her closer to his body as they both drifted into a dreamless sleep.
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Text
chapter viii – gust & flame
Eris Vanserra x Reader
Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.
Word Count: 3,500+
Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series
masterlist
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Eris felt the presence beside him, on the other side of the bed. 
The fact that their entrance didn’t wake him immediately just proved how exhausted he was – both mentally and physically – and how much he was still hurting from his father's torture. 
But he wasn’t alarmed. Because only one person who could get past his wards. 
Eris opened his eyes and turned to find his mother looking down at him with worry. 
He groaned and tried to close his eyes again. “It is early, mother.”
“How bad is it, Eris?” She asked. 
And though he couldn’t see her face, he knew her gaze was studying every inch of his skin that wasn’t hidden by the bedding. 
“We have both been through worse,” Eris groaned to his mother. 
This had always been both of their tactics: minimize the pain they suffered so the other wouldn’t worry. Eris was much better at it than his mother. But he had to be, to save them all. 
Eris knew she wouldn’t leave now, even if he pretended to go back to sleep. 
So, he slowly sat up. 
Though Eris’ body was covered with thick, strong muscles and scars, Leonora would always just see a little boy. 
They were both centuries old, the two of them appeared the same age – that was the fae way. But no matter how much time had passed or how much Eris matured, he would always be her boy, her firstborn, her son. 
“Who told you?” Eris muttered with irritation.
He swung his legs out from the bed and moved to his wardrobe to throw on a loose shirt. 
Usually the servants and Beron’s guards were tight-lipped about their High Lord’s abuse. Mostly because they feared what would happen to them if they were ever caught gossiping about any of it. 
“Beron came to my bedchambers last night,” Leonora answered quietly. 
Eris paused and his gaze raced to hers, silently asking what he feared. 
“Not for that,” she clarified. “He was drunk. Mostly he came to gloat. But he muttered about what happened, as if he were both bragging and deploring his heir…”
“Gloat?” Eris repeated. “Of what?” 
“I couldn’t steer him enough to give me answers. But clearly he has made a deal of sorts. Whether it’s for money or power or a bigger army, it was not clear.” 
Eris just nodded, lost in thought on what his father’s move had been. 
But when he looked back at his mother, she was still giving him that sorrowful look. 
Leonora was a prisoner, yet she took the blame for every horrible thing Beron did to her sons. She believed she should be able to protect them, even though she couldn’t even protect herself from him. 
“Mother, do not fret,” Eris sighed as he walked to her. He kneeled before her and grasped both of her hands. “I am alive.”
And she whispered, “For how much longer? When will he finally take it too far?” 
But Eris shook his head instantly. “That will not happen. It is not what we have worked for all this time.” 
Leonora’s eyes filled with tears, but she held them back. 
“I was with her,” Eris breathed out without even realizing it. 
He wanted his mother to stop worrying about him. So, his best idea was to distract her with news of his hidden, secret mate. 
It worked. 
Leonora’s eyes widened in surprise.
She blinked, somehow putting together that Eris’ visit was probably what led to Beron punishing him. 
“Please, tell me everything,” she whispered with a soft, encouraging smile. 
“She…” Eris didn’t know how she would react. “She is not just mortal, mother. She is a…a witch. But nothing like the ones I have come across in my lifetime. She is good…and kind. She could never be evil.”
“And was she hurt?” Leonora asked, remembering how panicked her son was when he came to her rooms after feeling that his mate had been in pain. 
Eris gaze darkened as he nodded. “She risked her life saving the High Lord and Lady’s son. Used magic to protect him and tried to fight off a fae infantry – all on her own.” 
A smirk appeared on Leonora’s lips. “She is brave. But I already knew she would be.” 
Eris frowned, remembering how he had spoken to Y/N. “I was terrible to her.” 
Leonora’s brows rose. “Why, my love?”
He shook his head. “We can never be, mother. It is better this way. She should not think kindly of me. We cannot be lovers. We cannot even be friends.” 
His mother sighed, but knew better than to argue with him. 
“She seems to be fitting in well at the Night Court. They have become her…friends.”
Leonora swore she saw a flash of…envy in her son’s eyes at the word ‘friends.’ Something Eris longed for, but was incapable of securing while pretending to be such a monster.
“The Shadowsinger watches over her – perhaps, too closely.”
“And how does that make you feel?” She asked. 
Eris’ jaw tensed. “It would not be the first time I’ve wanted to stab that male.” 
“And what would you do if she fell in love with another?”
He took in a deep breath. “I would be relieved. She is too good for me, mother. A life together would only bring her misery. She would be happy in Night Court. She would be free.” 
Leonora cupped her son’s face gently. “Eris, you are not the mask you wear to protect your very life. I wish I could have given you a life that allowed you to be the male you truly are.” 
–––––––––––
“While it is a protective crystal, its power fades after time. Charge it under every full moon, and its magic will remain strong,” Y/N advised. 
The customer was a female fae, who Y/N learned would be labeled as a “lesser fae” – a term she thought was rather insulting. The female looked similar to Y/N’s hosts, but had horns coming out of the corners of her forehead. 
But her smile was kind, she was polite, and she asked many questions about the shop – and that was all Y/N could ask for in a customer. 
“Thank you so much,” she said to Y/N with a beaming smile. 
Y/N waved as she left. “Of course. Have a lovely day!”
Once Emerie had told Y/N of her shop, she was inspired. Rhysand had not stopped sending her gifts after the attack on Nyx. First it was somewhat innocent: shrubs, flowers, herbs. But then it became jewelry and clothes finer than Y/N had ever seen. 
Y/N smiled as she remembered the conversation in Rhysand’s office just over a month ago:
“I have a business proposition,” Y/N had told Rhysand one day in his office at the River House. She'd politely asked Cassian to fly her there and the Illyrian refused to give them privacy, utterly curious on what Y/N needed to say to his brother. 
“I’m listening,” Rhysand answered with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. 
“Would you loan me a shop?”
Rhysand’s brows shot up. “A shop?”
“Yes, for my…”
“Witchcraft?” Rhysand offered with amusement. 
Y/N still winced at the word, but nodded. “I really believe I can help people – with ailments, stress, protection. All I need is a loan so I can rent a space in Velaris – something with a backyard. I will pay you back for the store space, with interest. And then we can continue to cut the profits 60/40.”
Rhysand stopped his leaning. “Alright.”
“A-A-Alright?” Y/N stuttered back. 
“Sounds like a splendid idea,” the High Lord explained. “However, you will not pay me back for the store. And the profits remain your own.”
“B-B-But…what are you getting out of it?” 
Rhysand shrugged. “You don’t seem to appreciate my gifts of jewelry and clothes. This is the first thing I’ve seen you excited about since you have stayed here. Also, my people would benefit from such a store. Velaris has fine healers, but it comes at a cost. And they are often too busy for injuries and sicknesses that are not life threatening.” 
“Rhys has more money than he knows what to do with,” Cassian fake whispered from behind her. 
“This is not a business proposition then,” Y/N tried to argue. “This is just a gift.” 
“And?” Rhys asked.
“Take the offer,” Cassian urged her. 
“Fine. But no more gifts!” Y/N pointed threateningly at the High Lord. “This is it. No more clothes. No more jewelry.”
Now Y/N had been in operation for two weeks and was shocked at how much clientele she had already received. People were curious about both her and her merchandise.
Perhaps she had to thank Cassian for drunkenly screaming at every pub he could about her store. He'd practically scared people into agreeing to stop by once it opened. Cassian was a better advertiser than any expensive posters could have been. 
As she was nearing closing, Y/N tried to start a bit of clean up. Then she heard the door ring behind her. 
“Be with you in a moment,” she called over her shoulder. 
When she returned to the front of the store, she stopped in her tracks as she saw the back of a clearly male fae. His hair that bright red she couldn’t stop thinking about. Though it was long, unlike the shoulder-length she had known.
But when the male turned around, she found that it was not Eris. 
“Have I frightened you?” He asked her. 
It was then Y/N realized his right eye was missing and in it’s place seemed to be some sort of gold substitute. His face was also scarred from what appeared to be an injury that must’ve been the reason for his missing eye. 
“N-No. I apologize. I thought you were someone else.” 
The male tilted his head at that. 
Y/N tried to recover and cleared her throat as she stood up straighter. “Can I help you find something?”
He turned back around to look at the merchandise. “Perhaps a love potion,” he muttered.
But by his tone, it was clear he was not serious. 
Y/N still played along, “You won’t find those here. But I am capable of making one – for a price.” 
He whipped around, but then relaxed as he read her teasing expression. 
“Love potions are a dangerous thing,” Y/N continued. “I wonder why people are so desperate to make someone love them…” 
Her words seem to have a negative effect on the male. And Y/N suddenly found herself feeling guilty for the jest. 
“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” 
“No, truly. I had heard the idle chatter about the human girl and her new store in Velaris. I’ve just returned from my travels and wished to see it for myself.” 
“Well, I am sorry to disappoint,” Y/N half joked. 
He smirked at her. “You haven’t.” 
Y/N felt her face heat from the comment. Was he trying to flirt with her? 
The male walked closer, getting slightly in her space. “But I must say: I am curious as to how a mortal has found her way to Velaris…”
Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Do you always expect strangers to tell you their life story without hesitation?”
He smiled and offered his hand. “I am Lucien.”
She took it. “Just Lucien… no surname?” 
Y/N didn’t know what made her think she should push for it. Perhaps just a feeling. 
His expression seemed to darken at the question. “Lucien Vanserra, though I do not associate with my family, so I tend not to use it if I can help it.” 
Y/N’s heart dropped and her eyes widened. All humor had disappeared. “You’re Eris’ brother?” 
Lucien was no longer teasing either. “You know my brother?”
For some reason, she felt like it was the wrong thing to tell this male. 
“You are from Autumn Court…” Y/N pointed out. “Why are you in Velaris?” 
Lucien watched her for a moment before he said, “I will answer that if you explain how a mortal came to the Night Court and knows my brother.” 
Y/N took in a shaky breath, but knew it was a fair trade.
“I was captured in the mortal realms by merchants who wished to…sell us…to fae buyers.” Her eyes glazed over as she suddenly trhust back into those traumatizing memories. “When we were crossing through Autumn Court, I managed to free us. Your brother found me in the woods and brought me here.” 
“He brought you here?” Lucien urged. 
She nodded. “From what I’ve been told, Autumn Court is not safe. Rhysand and Feyre have provided sanctuary for me here in the Night Court.” 
Mentioning the High Lord and Lady so casually made Lucien’s brow quirk. It just further proved that she had a relationship with them, and a personal one. 
“How peculiar,” Lucien hummed, clearly thinking deeply on her story. 
“W-What?” Y/N asked nervously as she shifted her weight. 
“My brother is not known for being merciful. He is sadistic. My father’s pet. And he is not fond of mortals.”
Y/N had nothing to say to that. She hardly knew Eris. He barely spoke to her that one night. And it was clear her friends here were not his friends. 
However, Eris spoke so boldly about ending his father’s life and taking the throne. He didn't seem to be his father's pet at all.
But Y/N’s instincts warned her of sharing such information with his brother. 
She cleared her throat after a few awkward seconds of silence. “Your father is not a good male, I have heard.”
“That is a far nicer way to put it than I usually do,” Lucien huffed. “I have been exiled from Autumn. I do not associate with my family anymore. And in return, they all pretend I do not exist – unless we have the misfortune of crossing paths.”
“And what happens if you cross paths?”
“Oh, they usually try to kill me,” Lucien shrugged. 
Y/N’s jaw dropped slightly at that. Her family had been sacred to her. They loved and protected each other – until the very end. 
“I am an emissary for the Night Court now,” Lucien added casually. “I have an apartment on the Sidra. But with my traveling, I am rarely there.”
She gave a short nod in understanding. “How did you come to choose the Night Court as your new home?”
Y/N asked because she was in the process of doing the same. But she still felt like this…imposter while being here. It wasn’t just being a mortal and a witch in a fae realm. It was…something more. Everyone had been welcoming of her presence, yet she still felt out of place, like she was meant to be somewhere else. 
Lucien hesitated before answering, “My mate is here.” 
“Oh,” Y/N blurted out without meaning to. 
There was still so much to learn about what these faes called “mating bonds.” They sounded magical, like what mortals called soul-mates. She saw how Feyre and Rhysand were with each other. And she watched Cassian and Nesta’s relationship – not to mention, she heard it rather frequently at the House of Wind. But the most unusual thing Y/N had heard was that some mates were not actually in love – Feyre had mentioned it when discussing Rhysand’s parents in passing. 
“I can only assume you have met her,” Lucien continued. 
“Oh?”
“Elain. Feyre’s sister.” 
Y/N blinked in shock. “Elain is your mate?”
Surely the girl would have mentioned her mate, even plugging him casually into conversation. Y/N had always assumed she was unbound, different from her two sisters. 
In fact, Y/N had caught Elain carefully sneaking looks at Azriel every time they were in the same room. 
Lucien chuckled darkly at her response. “She despises me.” 
Y/N opened and closed her mouth multiple times before saying, “B-But…But she is your mate…”
Before Lucien could answer or Y/N could ask anymore questions, the door opened again, ringing the entrance bell. 
Azriel walked in, already glaring at the other male in the store. 
Y/N assumed he had either been listening or his shadows had been spying on her. 
It appeared the two males were having somewhat of a stand off. 
“Lucien,” Azriel nearly growled in greeting. 
“Azriel,” the redhead replied curtly. 
The tension between the two males was impossible for Y/N to miss.
The Shadowsinger’s gaze softened when it moved to Y/N. “Are you ready?”
Every day the store was open, either Cassian or Azriel came to take her home, flying her back to the House of Wind. Once, it was Rhysand who claimed he wanted to see if the store met his standards. But Feyre had whispered to Y/N later that Rhys was just happy that Y/N was happy, and wanted to see it for himself.
Y/N had also shared that she was considering getting herself an apartment in Velaris, once she made enough from the store to afford rent.
But Azriel had immediately shot down the idea, explaining that it was safer for her to live with them. Y/N had expected at least a couple of them to side with her and tease Azriel for being overly cautious. But no one spoke, all silently backing Ariel’s reasoning. 
Y/N nodded to the Shadowsinger. “I just have to lock up.” 
She turned back to Lucien, “I have something for you.” And she skipped to the back of the store. 
In the short time she was gone, Azriel quietly stepped further into the store, placing himself in a spot that put him between Lucien and Y/N. 
The redhead looked at the Shadowsinger as if he were silently asking, ‘Is that really necessary?’
Y/N returned with a wooden bowl, a black candle, and a pouch of what appeared to be thick-grained salt. 
“Place the candle in the middle, pour water around the candle in the bowl, sprinkle salt in. And then light the candle.” 
“What for?” Lucien asked, slightly suspicious. 
Y/N smiled softly. “Think of the emotions and thoughts that weigh you down. The candle will burn your worries and anything thing that lingers to haunt you. Your mind will feel lighter after.”
A part of her expected him to laugh. But Lucien seemed appreciative of her gesture.
He asked her, “How much do I owe you?” 
But she shook her head before he could even finish the question. “It is a gift.”
Lucien looked like he wanted to argue further. But managed to stop himself.
“Thank you,” Lucien gave a subtle bow of his head. 
Then he watched Y/N for a moment, as if she were a puzzle. It made her a little anxious, being observed in such a way. 
Azriel cleared his throat. 
“Right,” Y/N jumped slightly. “Let me go get my coat and keys.” She disappeared into a small backroom. 
“Why did my brother bring her here?” Lucien quickly asked in a hushed tone. 
Azriel remained composed. “Perhaps that is a question for your brother…” 
Lucien gave a final glare to the Shadowsinger before he walked out of the store. 
Y/N came out a moment later, with her cloak already draped over her shoulders. 
“Giving away your merchandise for free is no way to run a business,” Azriel teased. 
Y/N smirked. “You weren’t saying that when I gifted you that tea…”
“Come on,” Azriel smirked and nudged her toward the door. 
He patiently waited for her to lock up the store.  
“You know,” Y/N muttered. “Your reaction to both Vanserras is very telling, Azriel.”
But Azriel picked her up in his arms and shot into the air before he acknowledged her question. 
Y/N yelped, never getting used to the feeling of flying. Even after all this time, she had not grown to like it. Perhaps she was always meant to keep her feet on the ground. 
“I do not trust them,” Azriel finally answered when they had reached their altitude. 
“Don’t trust them or don’t like them?” Y/N challenged. 
Azriel looked down at her. “Both.” 
It was only a few minutes later that they landed carefully at the House of Wind. 
But Y/N didn’t walk or continue with Azriel.
Instead, she planted her feet. 
Azriel turned to find her giving him an expression he didn’t quite understand. 
“That is why you and Elain play your game…because she has a mate.” 
Azriel jaws flexed. “Did the wind tell you that? Or Lucien?” 
Y/N stepped toward him. “The wind has told me many other things about you – but not that. Lucien only told me that Elain was his mate. He spoke nothing of you.” 
Azriel stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “And what does your wind tell you of me?”
She looked down at her feet, suddenly losing the courage to stare into his beautiful, hazel eyes. “They say you love broken females…” 
Azriel took half a step back, caught off guard by the harsh truth she mumbled. 
“And I realized…I am not broken." Her gaze finally met his. "I am only lost.” 
She sounded…disappointed. Or was Azriel mishearing it?
Either way, the Shadowsinger was left speechless.
Y/N’s head now hung even lower than before, as she spoke to the ground, “I will see you early tomorrow for training.” 
She brushed past him to quickly retreat to her bedroom. 
And Azriel just turned to watch her go. 
––––––––
OK. OK. OK. This has been my favorite chapter to write so far.
So, please, please, please share your thoughts: comment, reblog, send a message.
What do you think of Lucien and Y/N's meeting?
How do you think Azriel actually feels about Y/N?
chapter ix
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gentrychild · 2 years
Note
5 headcanons game: DFO AU where Izuku is a Yakuza boss and anonymously makes deals with AFO
Aaaaaaaaaaand we get another AU where Inko is Pops' adopted daughter.
1.A - So, before Pop's bio daughter left, Chisaki was itching to get more power in the organization. He had plans. He had ideas. But Pops, who has been around long enough, laughs in his face when he starts saying he has plans to destroy the top 5 villains in order to ressurect the yakuza. So the plan was to put Pops in a coma, proves that Chisaki was right, then wakes Pops up so he could see it.
1.B - Chisaki gets his quirk stolen exactly two days later.
1.C - This is pandemonium for the yakuza. Their leader is in a coma. Their leader-in-second is quirkless and having a mental breakdown. Every two-bits villain us hunting them down for sport now that they are weakened. Even the boss' daughter just left! And left her daughter behind, claiming that little Eri had killed her dad even though everyone in the neighborhood knows that Eri's dad has been trying to leave the mafia princess for years but was too scared of what the yakuza would do to him if he did.
2.A - Desperate, they go towards the one who left the nest and never look back. Inko is NOT happy to see twenty yakuza invading her tiny apartment. Her husband knows nothing about her past life! (She conveniently forgets the massive tattoos hidden under her cardigans every time she claims that.) She is just a normal housewife! (Please, pay no mind to the metal needles hidden all over the house.) They must leave now before her son comes back from school! (Izuku has been here for the past ten minutes but can't get home because a bunch of yakuza are blocking the way.)
2.B - "HELP US!" the yakuza cry. "NO!" Inko screams back. "Why don't you do [many illegal stuff a middle student should not know]? Hypothetically speaking.
2.C - Long story short, Izuku started helping the yakuza because he is good at it. "I am leading them away from a criminal life!" he claims. "And yes, sometimes, they break people's legs but only when the others started it!"
3 - You have to understand that Izuku's school life is not great, his mom is worried about him because of the whole quirkless thing and he runs away from his problems by 100% investing himself in the yakuza thing. They have an important job in the ecosystem! They might be assholes but they give stability to areas where heroes don't patrol! It has two, in my opinion, consequences: A. Chisaki is working for Izuku and hating every second of it. B. Izuku keeps getting money by blocking some of AFO's activities.
4 - AFO is losing his mind. He knows that the yakuza have a new boss who is devilishly good at their job but he can't find who? He fought this was Pops but the guy is in a coma?(He checked.) Then, he thought becoming quirkless had made Chisaki smarter? (It didn't.) Every time he is close from finding the thorn in his side, they disappear! It's even worse than tracking an OFA holder!
5 - This is an AU where Chisaki slightly gets his head out of his ass. When he sees Eri and realizes the other morons are the only thing between the toddler and a certain death, he more or less adopts her. He doesn't even like the idea of being a dad but someone made a comment about him not being good at it (Izuku, it was Izuku), so now, he must prove them wrong.
+ 1 - AFO almost manage to grab the secret yakuza boss but not only does the little shot bites him before he escapes but he somehow manages to steal a quirk from him.
+ 2 - Izuku now has Overhaul. Chisaki is furious.
+ 3 - Izuku is terrible at using Overhaul. (Great at destroying stuff, not even passably good at putting them back together.) Chisaki must teach him how to use the quirk. He is even more furious.
+ 4 - A blond skeleton passes out in the neighborhood and wakes up in a house full of yakuza. He is promptly adopted, even by the little one? Which he then learns is their boss? He kinda wants to explain this is a misunderstanding but he is invited to the Sunday cook-outs and he can hang out with them and it's kinda nice?
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hacked-by-jake · 4 months
Note
SPOILERS
Alright I have way too many thoughts and emotions so there ain't no way I'm gonna be able to organize everything into a nice sentence but I still gotta get it out 🤣🤣
First off, my notes app with some of my thoughts I wrote down while playing (in chronological order):
Where's Jake?
No premium?
Why and where is nymos
Why are we playing candy crush instead of hacking
Again: Where's Jake, he prob sees our chats and knows whats happening (hopefully)
The characters seem like an almost identical reflection to duskwood
What happened to Richy, please don't die on me 😩
Where's the others
We're now paying to see the secret chats
Why's this game taking so much of my money
Ash really be making me cry about Jake again 🥴
Eric be throwing himself at us when I still want to stay loyal to my hacker boy 💀
The ending: I KNEW MY BABY WAS ALIVE I LOVE HIM, I DEMAND HE TALKS TO US NEOW 👹
AND ALAN I MISSED HIM TOO MWAH MWAH
Rant 1:
The money milking makes me sick and don't even get me started on the ai 🫡 I spent 17 bucks today, halfway through the first episode and already out of all the materials I bought. It's disgusting how Everbyte has completely flipped and is practically scamming their players. Based on the prices, it's almost 3 dollars to view one picture 🙄 I would be more than happy to buy a premium package like duskwood for $20 or even 30 but $17 for not even half an episode is a crime 😭😭
Rant 2:
It's crazy how long this game took and yet it's way worse than duskwood. I was expecting a few additions, not subtractions.
Rant 3:
There is no way to see previous media and calls like in duskwood and no chat history like they promised. I never would've thought it was possible, but these mini games are way worse than duskwoods. And I realized how childish it all looks, I hate how we get no explanation for anything we're doing in the game.
Conclusion:
I'm pissed but seeing the anonymous mask gave me life. I need to go replay duskwood to cleanse myself of moonvale 😮‍💨
Pahahaha you're really killing me with your thoughts, I love your humor so much. 😭
I really should also start to write down my first thoughts while playing but I fear I will write down something to every little sentence I read. xD
But it's so true, where's Nymos? Give us Nymos back! My emotional bond with this unreal little dude is huge so I seriously need him. It's literally a program but it's a he you can't change my mind because I imagine Nymos as Jake best friend who's exactly like Jarvis from Marvel. (Sorry if you don't know it but then I really recommend you to watch the Iron Man movies. (Actually all marvel movies but we're talking about Jarvis here so you best see or more like hear him in Iron Man)
Btw my headcanon is that Nymos is not just any program but also an AI. So and now I will expand the headcanon and say Nymos is an AI that is against AI art and nobody can stop me, hehe.
The Candy Crush comparison makes me laugh every time and it hurts me because it’s true. xD
The thing with the characters being identical with the Duskwood characters... It's a hard topic in my eyes.
Some people say it way too early to judge this. And it's true. We didn't saw much now. But I do think we can already judge them a bit by what we saw. And when we compare it with how the Duskwood characters were in the first episode, I do think you can see that there's not much yet, sadly.
Like, we had Thomas, the idiot in love with problems to take criticism. We had Jessy the hanger-on that were clinging to Dan but then decided to change sides. We had the funny sunny boy Richy. The pretty cold acting Cleo. We had bitchy Lilly and of course we had the grumpy and unfriendly Dan. They all acted pretty strong from second one, in my eyes.
But I somehow absolutely don't think the Moonvale characters are like the Duskwood characters. Because well, I really think they need stronger personalities.
We have Eric who's a pretty normal guy and even though he tripped twice in one episode he's not at all like Thomas.
We have Ash who's like a very, veeery light version of Jessy and Lilly, in my eyes. Somehow kind but somehow absolutely not trustworthy.
We have Violet who's just.. there sometimes. Even the drunken police chief is more expressive.
Well and Charlie is.. Somehow like Richy and in my eyes has the strongest personality so far.
Oh and not to forget Brian who wasn't even there. Lol.
So yeah, I understand both points but I might see it a bit differently.
"Why's this game taking so much of my money" had me on my knees, laughing and crying at the same time because it's almost funny what Everbyte did and it's just as sad.
During my first playthrough I was also like: Someone give me a crucifix I need to get rid of Eric as soon as possible.
But while replaying I just had to see what happens if you decide to get closer with Eric and I swear it didn't disappoint me. It was hilarious and truly, I want this with Jake. I need such a chat with Jake! Everbyte, please!
I mean, I'm not flirting with Eric because I think he's hot or anything. Sadly, his character isn't interesting to me in this sense. (I need the mysterious guys xD) But I just had to try it and I mean, who knows if it will be important later. It's manipulative, I know, but don't judge me. And also, there's still this little hope for a jealous Jake. *ahem* Sorry, I promise I still feel bad for flirting with someone else. 😩
But gosh, the side story end. It was worth all the wait, really. I said before, I don’t forget about the negative things because of it but I'm just a silly, lonely, disappointed girl in love with a fictional hacker, let me have this adrenaline boost!
And yes, I was so happy when I saw Alan's body cam. I immediately knew what that means but at first I was just so happy to "see" Alan as well. I really like this guy, I can't stop myself.
About rant 1: I love the comparison with "So expensive is a picture" it is just as true and actually shows again how incredible it all is. I’ve said my opinion many times now, and I still want to protect Everbyte and give them a little empathy. But it's sadly just true.
I had a thought about that (what you said in rant 2) before and wanted to make a post about it later. So I hope it's okay if I get to it later.
Rant 3: This is actually one of the things that botherse the most. We can't rewatch calls, videos and pictures. The chats are disappearing and are gone forever. And they told us it will be different and that's so annoying. Not being able to see it in the app is just bothering for me. And yeah, that they broke the "promise" is as well. We all were so happy about the chat thing and now...
I actually like the look of Moonvale even if I would prefer something much darker. Especially with the mini games. The background is AI, of course, so. It would look much better with a real background.
And the damn mini games... I loved the ones in Duskwood so much. I really did. It was so much fun and I was one of the people who found them very easy.
But now the Moonvale mini games. By lord. Even though they're much easier for me in my replay, the first time I was actually this close to throwing my phone against the wall. I mean, I even went to sleep at some point and finished the game the next day! Everyone who follows me since duskwood knows I would rather shave my head than that. But they're just pain. And I seriously hope Everbyte will make them a bit easier or give us moves! Because this was often the biggest issue for me. Not enough moves. But they want you to buy gems so... 😒
Your conclusion sound good. I'm definitely planning to replay Duskwood as well. If I want or not. I have to. I need the comforting atmosphere and my emotional support hacker.
So I would say, see you in Duskwood, my detective friend. 🫡
No, jokes aside. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me and us. As I said, I love your humor and the way to describe the things. And I really enjoyed answering it. 💚
I hope you could calm down a bit as well. I definitely needed some days before I could see it more clearly.
And as always a huge pleasure to see you here again. 💚😌
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gloria123idk · 1 month
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Explaining Yuu's I made: Eleanor Yuu
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So....
She's basically Eleanor from FnaF franchise
• Look
Basic school uniform looks at her weird since the current size is too short, and on the other hand, bigger size would look like a bag on her
At the start of the story, she was using some sort of human form, but after Book 3 most of people around her started to... -suspect-, so she was stealing identity using human form occasionally, and at some point stopped using at all
• Power
At the start she had only small bit of hee powers, but with each overblot, she was getting it back more as she was feeding more and more on suffering
She's under a very VERY CONTROLLING eye of Crowley, after she NEARLY turned one of the freshmans into scrapped metal
After that situation, if scrapped metal or piece of robot appears in school hall she's numero 1 suspect (even when it wasn't she)
• Overblots
After finding out the concept of Overblot, she was using it to eat, one Overblot could make her full for a very long time
Behind Crowley's back she was trying to make students Overblot on purpose, he found out somehow, and now its just like:
"What did I said about trying to make students Overblot on purpose?"
"Eee... Its not your fault if they're mentally unstable?"
"That too- BUT NO."
• Relationship with other students
At first they all thought she was carring and shit, but with each Overblot and Chapter, they were finding out she was actually A WHOLE ASS SATAN SPAWN
There are few people that don't care tho
Deuce and Ace: They are with her from the start, and, as much some of her behaviours are pretty fucking scary, she never tried to attack them in any way, only manipulate them there and there... BUT WHO HASN'T??? Most of the time she puts nice face and is like mother to them, on other times its just like:
"Why did you never offered those weird necklaces to us?"
"To make a deal I need suffering... You both are too dumb for that."
"Aha-"
"Also I need friends, so"
Grim: As much as I am aware of, Eleanor only feeds on human suffering, and Grim is not really a human. Their relationship is basically: "Idk, it just spawned into my life". And Eleanor goes along with Grim's games and stuff, because why not, it makes her seem weak... So... That's pretty helpful 90% of time ☕. But no, they are pretty normal most of the time
Idia: After finding our Eleanor true identity and power, he was BEGGING HER for Ortho's come back. So for long time Idia was her main dish. But yeah, after some time Ortho and Crowley found out and she had restricting order, she couldn't step her foot into Ignihyde for MONTHS. But yeah, Idia likes her, or rather person she tries to be, but that's better than nothing
Malleus and Lilia: They were both interested in this little fella, mostly because she's a robot like Ortho yet very different, also her power. As much as Eleanor sees those two as possible threat, they're friendly with eachother... Most of the time
"Child of a man-"
"Wrong line."
"... Child of a Satan?"
"Here we go"
There are also some that are... Well... On not really good relationship with her
Vil: Remember "To be Beautiful"? WELL THAT NEARLY HAPPENED IN BOOK 5. After that Vil is just trying to avoid her. Which was easier after she got restricting order from coming into other dorms. After every Overblot she was going into Housewardens rooms and just stand on their bed above them while they sleep... So yeah. Valid reason.
Riddle: He was the first to Overblot, so he was the first to go through Eleanor's menace. He had it the worst
Azul: She's more of an rival to her... Like... She can do wishes too, so he treats her like rival, and she finds it hilarious, and after his Overblot it just got worse, because this girl was watching his every move
Jade/Floyd: Messing with Eleanor is pretty hard, so they hated that. (Also one night she broke into their room thinking it was Azul's and they're all three confused to this day)
Jamil: At first they were on pretty friendly terms, but after few actions that took turn after Book 4, he just sees her as potential threat and keeps her away from Kalim at at least mile
Ortho: THIS BITCH TRIED TO TURN HIS BROTHER INTO SCRAPPED METAL.
Sebek: In his eyes, potential threat to Malleus. Do I need to say more?
• Character Development
Remember when I said Riddle had it the worst? Its because with each Overblot Eleanor was just giving less and less shit, because it was more and more pointless (Thanks Crowley)
After each Overblot she's feed enough to survive a long period of time, so she don't really have to help anyone to eat, since drama comes themselves without her trying
So with each Book its just less neccessary to do whatever
And her pretty facade was already debunked by most of the school so manipulating other students was just harder each day (At this point she just have Deuce, Ace and Grim)
After Book 6 she will probably focus completly on coming back to her world, or will try to be actually nice to others (TOOK YOU 6 BOOKS BITCH. CONGRATS ON FINALLY DOING SOMETHING)
I still have no idea which turn should I take, since she's completly under control of law and magic school where she cant manipulate anyone into her cage:
• Actually trying to be a better being, and focus more on trying to fix relations with others
• Make her colder, so she can focus on coming back home where she can be actual Eleanor (aka a bitch that turns children in metal pieces)
Due to events it would be probably the first option... Lol
And yes, I know Eleanor is too big of a manipulator and she's literally just a Satan Spawn. Let me be delusional.
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randomvarious · 3 months
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Today's compilation:
Total 2 2000 Tech-House / Minimal Techno / Ambient
I've definitely done this before, but in order to kick off this post, I'm gonna have to rely on prolific electronic music opinion-haver Ishkur at length here, because he and I seem to be completely simpatico when it comes to our thoughts on the mostly bad phenomenon that is tech-house music:
Somehow by incorporating the strengths of both Techno and House, Tech House succeeded in appealing to neither. So the result is something frustratingly banal and monotonous when it really shouldn't be… Tech House straddles the razor-thin tightrope of something that doesn't have enough funky warmth for House yet not enough cold mechanicalism for Techno, so what comes out instead is something stiff, repetitive, and boring. It's such a disappointment, like the last season of Game of Thrones. Tech House had real promise. It could have done great things with the tools it had. And it's something everyone hoped would happen, like feeding Scrabble tiles to a dog to see if it shits out a word. But instead Tech House wasted its potential on pretentious Berlin nightclubs and that aimless, meandering noodlyness that the Brits are fond of, like a 70s prog rock solo that goes on for way too long. Technically interesting but utterly soulless… Tech House can be good. There is honestly good Tech House out there. I've even heard some. But finding it is a Herculian task of Sisyphian anguish in a Kafka-esque, Orwellian realm of Dostoevskian torment. It is possible to load up your music player with nothing but Tech House mixes, hop into your car, and drive to the other end of the continent and back and never hear the same song twice yet never hear an interesting song once. The odds of coming across decent Tech House are worse than needles made of diamonds in a rough full of haystacks.
So, yes, I 100% co-sign every single word of that. Ishkur did not teach me to think this way about tech-house, he just merely put it into words that already happened to mirror my exact thinking on the subject. In a similar way to progressive house—another genre that I don't like all that much—the sounds being made to create tech-house may be interesting and innovative themselves, but the way that those sounds are then combined typically yields something totally listless and often way too steady to be enjoyed. Like Ishkur says, the pieces are literally there to make something dope, but tech-house just seems largely unconcerned with a very crucial aspect of dance songcraft writ large—one that requires a tune to excitedly or satisfyingly grow, progress, and/or change over time.
See, to me, a lot of tech-housers really feel like people who are just cynically making dance music for the sake of it. It's like they heard house and techno and said, "oh, yeah, I can do that. That's easy. It's just looping up the same shit over and over again." And it's, like, "no, motherfucker, that's actually not at all what this is about. You really have no idea, do you?"
But guess what? They're actually not totally wrong here. Tech-house may legitimately be, overall, the most boring form of dance music that I've ever encountered in my life, but there are evidently more than enough people in this world that somehow derive satisfaction from it in order for it to have been able to successfully sustain itself for over two decades now. It's just that the people who enjoy it are like the dance music equivalent of those who, after a long and grueling day of work, like to go home and kick back with a blissful session of Lawnmower Simulator 4 😌.
So here's the second dispatch from Cologne-based label Kompakt's long-running Total series, a turn-of-the-millennium sampler that, despite it having a good deal of unique quirkiness to it, still somehow manages to bore me to absolute tears. Maybe if you've been following me long enough, you remember that I once posted about the first volume of Total, and concluded that the first half was excruciatingly boring, but the second half was fantastic. No such luck here. This is pretty much just that first half of the first Total, but doubled. Most songs start in a way that'll have you thinking, "Oh, yeah, this is pretty cool, this definitely sounds like it could be good," but then Lucy ends up pulling the football each time 😩.
Case in point, M. Mayer's "Amanda," a five-and-a-half-minute song with so much promise and a neat 80s new wave-pop edge to it too. When this thing first starts up, there is no sign that this 80s edge is going to materialize itself in any way, shape, or form, but at a little past the one-minute mark, it starts to lather itself in. And then, as you find out, this early, appetizing moment actually ends up representing the song's entire creative apex! I mean, we still have, like, over 80% of this whole tune to go, but I promise you, not a single interesting thing occurs in its very large remainder. Again, like Ishkur says, it's just so utterly aimless. This song exists because someone made it, but the idea that it has any sort of actual purpose in this universe is really questionable at best.
Like, all of this is just so maddeningly confounding to me. It's like these musicians really do genuinely find themselves on to something each time, and then rather than trying to push further, they decide that they're actually finished and just let whatever half-baked thing they've built ride itself out on an agonizingly long plateau until it thankfully takes a nose-dive off the side of a cliff. It really drives me nuts, because you can hear a possibility of something enjoyably substantive coming to fruition, but it's like there's also this inherently natural aversion to the idea of having to lift more than one finger too; everyone is just so content to glide down the bunny hill, and people are more than willing to vociferously cheer it on. It really makes not a single lick of goddamn sense to me, but there you have it—my tech-house take.
Read more Ishkur.
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nativestarwrites · 7 months
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How did you get the idea for your former big bang fic? Anything you want to share about it?
Thank you for the question! I love this wip and I've neglected it far too much! I started thinking about this a few weeks after I got into Ted Lasso last year, it doesn't feel that long ago but apparently it was in June! So I'm a little sketchy on the exact origin but I remember I wanted to write something that dealt with the scene in the finale with his father in a less superficial way.
The fic is more or less built around this line by James in my version of that rehab meeting.
"‘They won’t want you when you’re no longer their star player. I’ll always be your dad, but your team won’t be when you’re not playing anymore.”
And a series of events make Jamie start to think there's a kernel of truth to that as the new season starts. Things get worse, and there's some reasons why Jamie doesn't share how he's feeling with the team, but when they find out he learns he has value beyond being the star player and he's still their friend even if he never kicks a winning goal again.
It's sitting at just over 10k but I haven't looked at it for months because When Darkness Falls took over most of my writing time but I do want to go back to it. I think my outlining skills have improved from working on When Darkness Falls so I'd like to see what I can do with it with fresh eyes.
I've put a snip of one of my favourite scene behind the cut, it's just after Jamie's visited his dad right at the start.
He stands in the bright sunshine, flexing his hands compulsively, he doesn’t quite know what to do with them, doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, and he thrusts his fists into his pockets where he feels the warm plastic fob of his car keys inside the pocket. Car. Right. Time to make the long journey back home he guesses, there’s nothing worth sticking around for here.
Except, somehow there’s someone leaning against his car and he must be seeing things because its a very familiar silhouette and he only knows one person daft enough to wear all black and a leather jacket on a hot day like today but it most definitely looks like none other than Roy Kent leaning against his car.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” Roy answers. Like they’re in Nelson Road’s car park instead of one that’s a three hour drive away.
“Thought you didn’t agree with me going to see my dad.”
“I didn’t. I don’t. Doesn’t mean I was going to let you do it by yourself though.” Roy pauses and Jamie makes an effort to unclench his hands and relax his shoulders even though there’s every chance that Roy’s already noticed the tension he’s carrying. “How’d it go?”
Jamie shrugs a shoulder. “Dunno what I was expecting.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
This time Roy’s the one relaxing. There’s something about the familiarity of Roy not wanting to talk about emotions that’s actually really fucking comforting to Jamie and his gut unclenches slightly. If there’s one person he can rely on to not make him talk about his emotions it’s Roy.
“You hungry?” Roy asks.
Jamie raises a shoulder in a shrug. Breakfast had been a long time ago and the protein bar he’d had on the way up here hadn’t done much, but he still doesn’t really feel like eating, it’s more a sense that he should eat.
“Good.” Roy replies as if Jamie’s actually given him an answer. “There’s a decent steak place not far from here according to Google.”
“Whatever.”
“Gimme your keys.” Roy orders reaching out a hand with an impatient wiggle.
Jamie mutters control freak under his breath even as he throws the keys to Roy. He’d complain about it more except he really doesn’t fancy driving right now, doesn’t really trust himself behind the wheel if he’s being honest. He didn’t sleep well last night and he feels like its all deciding right now is the time for it to catch up with him.
“Wait, how’d you get here?” He asks as his head swivels around, looking for the black G-Wagon and finding nothing in sight. “Did you—?” But Jamie can’t finish, because the idea that Roy Kent took public transport to get here simply so he could drive Jamie home is too bizarre a thought to say out loud. Roy evidently agrees because he just growls sightly.
“Stop gawping and get in the fucking car."
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perplexingluciddreams · 6 months
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how did you become aware the trauma was trauma especially when not full remember
- 🍋 (may not be able read when first post this topic s blocked tag
This is a really hard question and I am not sure I really know the answer. I will try my best.
I have had a lot of experiences in my life that I think would be generally considered traumatic. Some are specific one-time events, some are very long term situations that I was trapped in. This includes abuse, but that is not the only thing. And aside from the long-term abuse from one specific person, I was also treated badly by a lot of people, even if I interacted with them only once. It is not necessarily about every single person included in that, but the pattern of bad treatment adds up over time and causes harm. I am a very easy person to mistreat or abuse or hurt, I am very vulnerable - and unfortunately lots of people have taken advantage of that over my lifetime.
I would also say that the lack of communication that I had for a lot of my life is something traumatic to experience in itself, and often lead to me being in situations where it was easy for people to cause me harm. I also think that just being so disabled, so unwell, so limited, so isolated, is a traumatic thing too.
All of my memories are scattered and jumbled and in fragments. Out of order. And I can’t recall things “on command”, mostly. It is like water currents. Not linear. If a memory comes to me, it just happens out of my control. I think sometimes there is something to pull up that memory, but because I don’t process things well, I can’t usually know what the “trigger” is. It is hard to even know where there is gaps in my memory, because so jumbled.
When one memory comes, usually my brain gets loud with many memories all making a lot of “noise” in there all at once. Because it is all interlinked somehow. One water current comes up to the surface, and pulls many other undercurrents up with it. This is true for any memory, bad or not. But even if a good/neutral memory comes to the surface, it can quickly pull up very bad memories along with it.
Then my body reaction is of full intense fear. Not any other word to describe. Just like my body thinks I am in Danger. And that is the same feeling of my body that I always had pretty much all day every day for my whole childhood. Constant survival mode. And only way to try cope is constant “disconnect” from everything. Which is the mode I am in most of the time - avoid avoid avoid, distract distract distract. When brain gets loud, I must fight my way back to this “blank” state.
After I manage to calm down, the water currents settle back to underneath. And the top goes mostly flat and calmer again. Less like storm, more like gentle waves and thoughts like rain make ripples. I can place distractions on top of the water like boats or leaves or sticks, which takes attention away from the chaos beneath.
Every time this “storm” happens, I get to hold on to more and more bits and pieces that get left over, stay floating at the surface like driftwood. So over time I can slowly slowly piece together more and more, to better understand the things that happened to me.
It is also complicated due to the fact that I mostly didn’t understand what was happening at the time. (Especially if the memory is from a much younger Ezra). For example, I used to have more access to memories of abuse when I was younger, because I simply didn’t know that it was even bad, at all. When I started understanding that more, my brain blocked it off stronger and stronger so I have less access to those memories now.
I also didn’t understand my own feelings or reactions or what that meant. So, even though I always had horrible awful feelings in my body, like twisty sick-y clenching feelings in my tummy constantly, or always right about to cry, or awful awful headaches… I just thought that is how my body feels. Because it was always like that. I couldn’t make connections that it was worse at certain times or near certain people, I just knew it was bad. But still didn’t connect that with the word “bad”.
My understanding and awareness of all this is improving over time. So I now at least connect these bad body feelings with the bad memories, and link it with the fact that my body always felt that way. I still don’t have words for the emotions, I don’t understand that part yet. And I am aware that the bad memories are there, just buried deep under the surface, blocked away by my brain. And I understand more and more just how bad it was.
Now that I can tell other people tiny fragments of it, they also tell me how awful it is (not to upset me, just to make me aware of the awfulness level). It helps me better understand the scale of it. There is still much that I can’t get out in words, but I work hard on that.
This is the answer I can come up with, I hope it is helpful. And hope I understood the question correctly. The short summary is: my body reactions is the strongest indicator that lets me know that something was traumatic, even when I don’t have full access to memories.
Thank you for this ask, friend. It made me think about this and organise my thoughts into words, which helps me a lot. I hope you have a calm, content, and comfortable day/night. 💜💚
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astarab1aze · 6 months
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Get to Know the Mun !
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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?
Well, it started with Kaede when I came back (and it was JJK that coaxed me out of retirement), but I took a three-year hiatus from roleplay et al. I didn't feel like I belonged anymore so, meh, left. Decided to focus on a fic (for Kaede ksjdhfs) during that time, some side projects too, but then the idea for the universe this blog focuses on came into being. At first, I just wanted to share it with the homies, but it was so unrefined yet so perfect for OCs, I had to expand and expand and expand - and then I thought, "Why not take it to tumblr, your natural habitat?" So here we are. All of the muses on this blog are rehashings of many many other muses I've had over the years, updated, changed as needed - I wanted to write the oldies without them being old, y'know? I missed them! So I combined some traits from some of them, new faces, etc. Threw 'em all in the pot and fleshed them out a liiiittle bit more through interactions, which only made me want to write them more and now I suffer endlessly (affectionate).
ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?
Aside from the obvious (graphic noncon, pedophilia, incest)? Not really, I'll write just about anything, even if I hate it. Like, I hate coffee shop AUs, but I'll write in one, y'know? I hate murder, but I'll write one. I hate angst, but I'll drown myself in it for free. I don't believe in limiting myself when authors like GRRM exist, and in order to be a well-rounded writer, imo, you gotta try things that disgust or terrify you (in writing). Research, getting into the heads of bad people to understand them so you can write a better villain or problematic 'good guy', further flesh out a life-changing experience for x character, etcetc. I'm just here to write and expand on established technique, style, storytelling ability, symbolism, stuff like that
ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?
It depends on some things, but I like to write stories and about characters who recognize the complications and hardships of life, be they with or without reason. Toxic relationships, smut, family life, monologues, horror when it suits me, dealing with trauma of any kind, romance at all, fantasy fantasy fantasy, etc. Can't think of anything super specific; It's really more about the themes I weave into everything. Growth, healing, wounding, what can make them worse, etc. It honestly goes the fuck on.
ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?
I get brainworms. Sometimes from single words, a visual, vague inspiration, video game lore - and I think about it forever until it becomes A Thing against my will ksjdhfs On occasion, I'll just have an idea ready to go, but will have to expand on it later
ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?
I write with music on. If I don't write with music playing, it's because I have to keep my eyes and ears open for the munchkin and puppies. But I have to have noise playing in the background somehow, somewhere, or I go crazy and get nothing done.
ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?
I plan almost nothing. I like to have as organic a response as possible for my replies and asks, and developments.
ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?
Oh yes, all the ships, give them to me. I love to ship, as long as the characters have chemistry and develop. I'll ship just about anything if the vibes are right.
ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?
Taro !
ᴀɢᴇ?
Over 25
ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?
October 27th
ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?
Every purple known to man, black, and teal
ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?
You cannot put me on the spot like this. I listen to way, way too much music and have lots of songs I listen to on repeat from trap to metal to dark country to instrumental to r&b, so on and so forth
ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?
Pretty Things, which, uh, was fucking wild.
ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?
The Witcher - literally do not @ me.
ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?
Fight For Me, by AlicebanD
ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?
Potatoes :)
ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?
Spring and Fall and nothing else (i do not count the 87346823 other seasons in my state >:/)
ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?
I have a few tumblr besties! Particularly those I've been writing with for a literal decade, since I first started roleplaying on tumblr ( @elysiumtouched & @melancholymirth , and I love them immensely), but I've made other friends too, and sorta-friends, over the years and enjoy having them around, whether we write all the time and talk or not.
Tagged by: @origami-assassin (and others) ! <3 Tagging: anyone that hasn't done this yet!
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sidesteppostinghours · 7 months
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4 + 5 + 8 + 40 + 34 and I) G) F) for Cyrus Becker my beloved 🧡
afternoon idle!! oh my god questions galore *cracks knuckles* cyrus get your ass over here youre up
4. How easy is it to earn their trust?
Very difficult, and at the same time easier than youd think. he definitely doesnt entertain everybody, but hes not unreasonable. hell hear you out if you give him enough reason to (or if he thinks its beneficial to get to know you. do you see why he gets attached to people hes supposed to be manipulating so often). ortega and mortum required him to establish a relationship, which is how they got so close to eachother so quickly. herald got by because cyrus thought hed be a useful contact in the rangers. chen couldve earned his trust a long time ago, they had to work with eachother a lot back when he still ran with the rangers, but chen squandered it on his suspicions and its been too long for cyrus to have any interest in patching up their relationship. argent has largely flown under his radar, she hasnt piqued his interest more than the passing curiosity of why she wanted the regenerator.
5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?
the default is mistrust. sorry yall, hes not taking any more chances than necessary. hes a telepath, he knows all too well what secrets other people hide, and hes not interested in giving people a chance to prove his suspicions wrong. but after hes grown to trust somebody? its... embarrassing how difficult it is to lose it. even though his trust is much shakier nowadays, you still need to have fucked up Majorly to get him back to mistrusting you. if you somehow manage to do that,,, uhhhh. what do you want on your tombstone? (ig its technically its possible to not die and even earn that trust back??? ortega managed, but thats ortega and hes statistically more likely to kill you or ruin your life. depends on how badly you fucked up. id say theres a good 5% chance youll survive the experience without the need for intense psychotherapy)
8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child
listen. follow orders. be exactly who we need you to be. cyrus was a deeply rebellious regene, but he wasnt stupid about it. hed go against the mission in secret, and just enough that nobody wouldve been able to trace any problems back to him. that doesnt mean he was never caught, but he was too competent of a regene to be scrapped, which saved him multiple times before. those few times did cause handlers to keep a closer eye on him though, just in case. handlers would usually keep a harder grip on cyrus, hold him to stricter standards. it contributed a lot to his own self talk. SPEAKING OF WHICH:
40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?
you must imagine me holding him and looking lovingly into his eyes while i dump a gallon of insecurity and perfectionism on him. hes a proud man, he thinks hes better than what other people are capable of, but that arguably makes things worse when he does make a mistake. he of all people shouldnt be like this. add the puppetmaster scar on him and its a hefty load of 'i need to make sure every single step of my plan goes exactly right Or Else." the worst thing about him is that a lot of the petty flaws he thinks apply to him arent correct. AND HE CANT EVEN NAME HIS ACTUAL FLAWS. cyrus you are so smart and walking around with zero self awareness, its the best. please consider stepping into acid.
34. How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? 
hohohohoho. well. the first step is to get him to feel guilty in the first place. traditionally immoral actions arent going to get to him, obviously. the thing that springs up guilt for him most often is themmys death. he has. a Lot of survivors guilt about that. especially because hes convinced himself he couldve done something and *gestures to the ask above*. guilt will haunt him for life if it doesnt get resolved in a healthy way, but hes gotten good at burying his emotions a long time ago. even when he feels like that, he reserves a specific time to think about it, otherwise itll impede on his plans in the long run. that designated time is. usually when hes supposed to be sleeping. his sleep schedule is just a little bit messed.
I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?
oh dude i Love putting cyrus in aus. its so fun to poke him with a stick and see what happens. the first one i put him in was a band au, it helped me figure out how he would interact with herald. basically cyrus was a masked guitarist (for backstory reasons) for a band daniel happened to be a fan of, except the two of them managed to meet at just regular old work, with cyrus not realizing daniel was a fan and daniel not realizing cyrus was from one of his favourite bands. it led to fun, mlb-esque shenanigans between the two lmfao. the second one i put him in was the becker siblings au, which i still have thoughts and emotionsTM about. that au let me indulge in the 'cyrus is an older sibling' headcanon and i will forever be in debt to it for the amount of protective cyrus i got. third and current au im obsessing over is a 'cyrus survives hb' scenario, where ortega managed to stop him before he jumped out the window. i am getting! so much ortega x cyrus content out of that au! and so much survivors guilt cyrus. cyrus 'using' ortega to forget about heartbreak my beloveddddd. he also says 'i love you' to ortega in this au and canon ortega is SO jealous. also x2, hes an alcohol vice step in this au. heartbreak hit hard and the tequila hits different.
aaaand i still like his canon version better. its just so very much him. out of every step ive got, hes the one i get to stay closest to how i envision based on the choices the game offers. plus he caught me completely by surprise suckerpunching me with an obsession over him and i cant Not respect that.
G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?
not sure whether this means on a character creation level or as a person, but ill answer for 'as a person' because im overall pretty satisfied with how he turned out! but like. god what is there to not be bothered about. my manipulative little shit of a son. ig the trait that frustrates me the most is his self destructive tendencies. like. Sir. are you at all aware of the fact that people care for you and want you safe? and that you can respond to that concern with something other than "i can use this", "sucks to be them", or, "no theyre not"? sir. sir answer the question. hes so empathetic and also literally a telepath but somehow cant compute genuine concern at him. as frustrating as it is though, i cannot deny that it is deeply funny to watch him fumble so badly.
F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?
normal. the ones where people look at me and think "wow, that is a person who is having (a) regular thought(s) about their character! very cool!" you will never see a person who is more normal about their guy than i am (i am grabbing him by the teeth and shaking him like a dog with a very strong kill instinct).
truly though, thinking of him gets me buzzing. hes like a puzzle, i keep breaking him apart and putting him back together again to see how everything works. i have this thing where ill often think about showing character analysis to the characters themeselves, just to see how they would react, and i undeniably do this the most with cyrus. i want to explain step by step (hah) why he is the way that he is now, like the whole timeline is plotted inside my head and its so!!!!! i am!!!!! chewing on him!!!!!
questions from here!
#herald is a lucky bastard#he messed up twice in a row (asking cyrus about his sidestep days+picking him up without consent) but asking for help training saved him#cyrus was straight up being sadistic about it he just wanted to fw herald after those two times and saw training as an opportunity#it wasnt supposed to lead somewhere#anathema vision wouldve fucked him and his guilty ass Up. good thing cyrus is a bastard and abandoned argentine before they crashed 🫶#and because i have an excuse to talk about them again heres some things that ive been thinking about lately:#1. it is So fucking funny to me that all three of them are trans afabs in some way#scientists at the farm in charge of the becker sibling batch: wow look at these three new girl regenes!#cyrus (trans man)/fawn (nb)/river (trans man): . well-#2. brother-madds buckley. just the whole thing. im going to start screaming and punching the floor here#3. WHO WAS THE HG SIBLING THE ORTEGAS SAW IN THE PHOTO. was it just somebody that looked enough like the three to assume it was a sibling#or did it happen to look exactly like one of the siblings. or did they find three photos with siblings that looked like each? I NEED ANSWER#cyrus' is very emotionally intelligent towards everybody but himself#when it comes to himself hes wearing a blindfold and earplugs and pretending nothings wrong#the whole time i was answering that last ask i was thinking about my post talking about how many posts of his were in my queue#god bless that man he never leaves my brain#thank you again for the ask idle :DD#cyrus becker#sidestep#fhr#pulp answers#ask game
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lil-tachyon · 2 years
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Hey logan, i'm trying to get into sci fi more, do you have any media, movies or otherwise you'd say it's a must watch for someone starting to get into it? Thanks
Super broad question! And precisely the thing I love to talk about. Although unfortunately I really don’t watch a lot of movies or TV so the best I can do for you is list some stuff I like and hope that you find something you enjoy. If we were talking sci-fi literature, that’s something I would probably write a full essay on- if anyone’s interested in reading my thoughts on that and getting my really long list of recommendations, just let me know. I might even do it on my own anyway, just for fun…
I guess if we’re going to talk about “must-watch” sci-fi movies then we have to talk about Star Wars first just to get it out of the way. I’ll keep it brief, far too much ink has been spilt regarding this franchise and you can find more in-depth opinions somewhere else. The original trilogy is great- there’s a reason it launched one of the biggest media franchises of the past 45 years. Endlessly rewatchable, somehow still looks better than basically any other big budget SFF popcorn movie and just plain fun. If you somehow haven’t seen the OT yet, get to it. 
You don’t really need to watch any other Star Wars stuff aside from the OT. The prequels aren’t exactly essential and they’re unquestionably worse in terms of dialog, acting, pacing (i.e. the nuts and bolts of storytelling.) If you’ve never watched Star Wars before you won’t have any nostalgia for them so you can skip them. Don’t even bother with the Disney sequels- pointless and incoherent. If you DO for some reason want more Star Wars in your life I can give you two recommendations: 
First is the masterpiece that is Genndy Tartakovsky’s (creator of Samurai Jack) Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) (no, not the CGI Clone Wars show you’re probably thinking of). Split into 25 episodes ranging in length from two to twelve minutes, the whole show is only about two hours long but boy is it sweet. There are no main characters and not much in the way of an overarching plot. Instead the show is composed of a series of rapid-fire vignettes that take place across the entire Star Wars galaxy and tell dozens of unique microstories. It’s pulpy and fun and never takes itself too seriously and the whole thing is on YouTube because for some reason Disney actually hates everything that made Star Wars good and hasn’t taken the time to copyright strike it.
Second recommendation is the Mandalorian. I didn’t believe it when people started raving about it, but it really is great and tells a poignant, self-contained, original story. It’s not perfect and it definitely suffers from the Disneywars curse of really obnoxious references to the OT, but it’s absolutely worth the watch.
Damn that’s so much more time than I wanted to spend on Star Wars. I always forget how much of a SW geek I am until I start talking about it…
Quick list of the other big “essentials” that I’ve seen and can recommend before I get into more personal stuff (in no particular order):
Alien (1979) - Weird and creepy and gross and with impeccable visual design in every single frame. I need to rewatch it, only seen it once.
Akira (1988) - Massive, groundbreaking, unsettling, beautiful. Brought cyberpunk into the visual realm, brought anime to the West in a whole new way. I could rewatch it a hundred times. 
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) - A foundational film that moves at a foreboding crawl and leaves you feeling unsafe and unsure of what you just watched. (Also my dad’s band referenced the monkey scene in their big-label debut music video, so that should be reason enough to watch it)
Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) - UFOs, the American West, and the most 70s-looking cast imaginable. It feels more a product of its time than most of the others on this list, but I love it for that and it does nothing to make it any less impactful or engrossing.
The Terminator (1984) and Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991) - I waited waaaaaay too long to watch these. I only got around to seeing them this past year in fact. I had always just written them off in my head as nothing more than cheesy 80s action flicks but my God are they good and so much different from what I expected. The first one is basically a sci-fi slasher film and the second is probably the best sequel film I’ve ever seen and takes everything in a totally different direction that still manages to build on all the groundwork laid by the first. Please watch, don’t be like me and wait until you’re twenty-six. 
Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984) - My favorite Ghibli movie. For being a film about people flying airships and fighting bugs in a giant toxic jungle, it really has a lot of important stuff to say and says it very well.
Castle in the Sky (1988) - Hits a lot of the same plot beats as Nausicaä and, imo, suffers a little bit in comparison but still a great anime sci-fantasy romp. 
The Thing (1982) - Disgusting sci-fi horror in the glacial Antarctic wastes
The Twilight Zone (1959-1964) - The first, the best. Sure, it’s inconsistent in terms of quality, but it’s at least consistently weird and inventive and the good episodes are really damn good. Also something I love about it is the acting- it’s very over-the-top expressive and exaggerated. Feels more like it’s meant for the stage than for the small screen. You don’t see a lot of TV like that these days. 
The X-Files (1993-2002, 2016-2018) - Absolutely in my top 5 TV shows. It was great to watch as a 14-year-old because I was still young enough to find it scary, and it’s great on every re-watch because I can really appreciate how much chemistry Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny have and how fun, goofy, and overall weird it is. As I recall it starts to decline noticeably in season 8. Season 9 you’ll have to grit your teeth to get through. The 2016-2018 revival is half composed of unwatcheable “storyline” episodes and half surprisingly good-to-great “monster of the week” episodes.
Cowboy Bebop (1998-1999) - My number one favorite anime, I love everything about it. So much effort goes into small background details and characters that only appear for a few seconds and it really goes a long way to making the whole universe of the show feel so real that you could see yourself living in it. Also the soundtrack is top-notch, I listen to it regularly. 
Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995-1996) and End of Evangelion (1997) - Another one that I took too long to get to and to be honest I probably would’ve been more into it had I watched it when I was younger, but it’s still great and I recommend it. Features a classic “inflation suit” episode
Stuff that’s less “essential” but I really like it:
Planetes (2003-2004) - My second favorite anime. Starts off as a workplace slice-of-life and slowly builds into a really, really emotional conclusion. Can’t recommend it enough.
Forbidden Planet (1956) - A sci-fi adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Tempest (I’m an illiterate piece of shit so I can’t tell you how good an adaptation it is). It’s slow-paced and eerie, and way more atmospheric than its decidedly 1950s visuals would lead you to believe.
Digimon: The Movie (2000) / Summer Wars (2009) - A short story: as a kid I probably watched the Digmon Movie about a million times. It was huge with kids my age and was probably an entire generation’s first introduction to ska-punk. It’s a great movie. Anyway, fast forward about a decade and a half and at some point I sit down to watch Summer Wars with my brother on no other information than that we heard it’s good. And it is! But pretty soon into the movie we both notice something odd- it seems to feature almost the exact same plot as the Digmon Movie. After a bit of digging we find out that they were both directed by the same guy and it seems he just had this idea in his head for a story that he really wanted to make for over a decade because Summer Wars is basically a more mature and less merchandisable remake. Watch them both!
Samurai Jack (2001-2004, 2017) - the first cartoon I saw as a kid that really made me say “finally, something for me!” I wouldn’t get another TV show aimed at me that was “cool” and “epic” and “badass” until ATLA came out. Nothing beats watching a samurai fight a million robots and bounty-hunters on an endless quest to go back to the past. Also the season 5 revival is great and I genuinely don’t get why a lot of people seemed to really hate on it. 
Moon (2009) - It’s been a LONG time since I watched it, but I liked it quite a bit. A lonely lunar miner runs into what seems to be his double and things get spooky…
Prospect (2018) - More space miners running into trouble! Really great costume and prop design on a super small budget (but you wouldn’t know it from how good it looks). 
Mobile Suit Gundam 0080: War in the Pocket (1989) - Listen- I’m not a gundam guy. I don’t care about all the different robots and I’m not about to watch 40 years of TV to try and figure out the story. Which is why War in the Pocket is great because it’s six episodes long and it just tells a really touching story punctuated by cool robot battles and you don’t need to know anything about Gundam to enjoy it.
Royal Space Force: The Wings of Honnêamise (1987) - A story about a space race set on an alternate world. What really sets it apart is the visual design- every detail from books, to currency, to texts to vehicles, to architecture is unique enough to feel totally alien but also grounded enough to somehow feel familiar. It’s quite an achievement. Trigger Warning: there’s a very uncomfortable rape scene in the middle of the film that seems to come out of nowhere. I’m still not sure why they chose to include it.
Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade (1999) - Military police get up to some real nasty stuff in alternate history fashy 1950s Japan. Very depressing, all my friends complained to me about how sad it was even though they went into it knowing what it was about and agreeing to watch it with me. You just can’t win sometimes!
That’s about all I have for now. I know it’s all kind of basic bitch stuff but like I said, I don’t often watch movies/TV. Hope it helps and thanks for the great question!
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