#and I need to answer an entirely different question in the answer to that question
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He’s not sure why he even comes to these parties anymore. He used to sell at the frat houses, made his rounds until he was out of product, made more money than any minimum wage job he could find near campus.
But he hasn’t in a while. Months, at this point.
It’s just that every time he came to one of these idiotic showing of riches and popularity, the most beautiful man he’d ever seen was sitting in the corner of the kitchen watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Sometimes he stood in a group of people in the living room, but never contributed to the conversation. Once, Eddie saw him swinging his feet back and forth in the water of the hot tub on the back patio with three different couples making out inside it, completely zoned out.
Eddie needs to keep an eye on him. Hence, he attends the stupid parties.
And it’s stupid, to go through so much trouble for a guy he doesn’t even know, who probably doesn’t even notice him back. It’s stupid, but Eddie’s never claimed to be very bright.
Which is probably why he walks up to the guy when he’s about two seconds from punching Tommy Hagan, grabs his wrists, and tugs.
“The fuck are you?” He asks Eddie, reasonably confused and angry at being interrupted by a stranger.
Eddie could feel his pulse against his fingers, swore he could feel a spark of electricity flow between them.
“Eddie. Just leave him. Whatever he did isn’t worth it,” he said through clenched teeth.
His fingers tightened around Steve’s wrists as he considered trying to pick him up, throw him over his shoulder, and walk out of this party entirely.
“How the hell do you know?” Steve wasn’t trying to pull away.
Eddie didn’t let himself think about that too much.
“I just know nothing Hagan does is ever worth trouble for you. C’mon,” Eddie tugged on his wrists again, and this time, it seemed to catch the guy off guard.
“Didn’t know you were into freaks, Harrington,” Tommy said as they took a few steps away from him. “If you’re gonna be gay, you could at least have taste.”
Eddie froze.
The guy, Harrington, tried to pull his wrists loose, but Eddie didn’t let him.
He turned to Tommy, the guy who almost got him arrested for selling at his party only a few months ago, and smirked.
If he was gonna out someone to a stranger, Eddie had no problem doing the same right now.
“And you just sucked my dick because you wanted to add it to your résumé?” Eddie grinned at Tommy, who quickly looked around to make sure no one else heard.
“As if I would-“ he tried to say, but Harrington cut him off.
“You forget you say shit when you’re high. You told me about it already. I think your exact words were, ‘he had the best dick I’ve ever seen, Steve.’ Or am I mixing that up with another dick?” Steve pulled one arm loose from Eddie’s grip, brushed hair from his face, and let it relax at his side.
Eddie could let go now, he was sure if anyone would start something at this point it would be Tommy. But Steve wasn’t trying to pull his other wrist loose and Eddie liked the warmth of him in his hand.
“Whatever man, just go. You don’t even wanna be here,” Tommy turned and left before Steve could respond.
Eddie finally let go, but he didn’t like the immediate sense of loss that filled his chest.
“You always interrupt strangers before they fight?” Steve asked him, hands shoved into his pockets.
Eddie really looked at him, inspected him. He only ever saw him at these parties, so the lighting was shit, but he’d noticed the dark shadows under his eyes a while ago. He noticed that he held himself in a way that showed he was always ready for a fight. Steve’s hair had gone flat over the last month or so, not nearly as voluminous or shiny as it had been at the start of the year.
“Are you okay?” He asked instead of answering the question.
“I’m fine, dude.”
Eddie shook his head. “You don’t seem okay.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Just seems like something is bothering you,” Eddie wouldn’t push more, not if Steve was actually gonna get mad. But something told him that nobody pushed Steve to talk enough.
Eddie had Wayne back home, and his friends in his band here, and a couple coworkers at the bar he worked at twice a week now that he could joke around with. Steve didn’t even seem to have the people he hung around with.
“Why does it matter to you if something is bothering me?”
That’s a fair question. Why does it matter to him?
“Maybe because I just wanted to help. That’s what people do, right?”
“Not for me, usually.”
Eddie stepped closer, barely leaving space between them. “Well, I am.”
Steve stared back at him, shoulders dropping and eyes losing that angry fire.
“Why?”
Eddie was an idiot sometimes, but he was able to read people pretty well. It’s what kept him safe for most of middle and high school, and made him friends in college.
He knew what it looked like to be lonely and depressed, and Steve had check marks next to both of those.
“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie asked, once again avoiding his question.
“And go where?”
“I’ll show you my favorite getting high spot.”
“I don’t really smoke with strangers,” Steve seemed nervous.
“You don’t have to smoke. I’m just gonna show you the place.”
He watched Steve think about it, noting the way his brows scrunched together, how he bit his bottom lip, how he looked at the ground instead of at Eddie.
“Fine. But if you murder me in the woods, my mom will have you hanged,” Steve finally said.
“Hanged? Do they even do that anymore?”
Steve giggled. “Probably not. But she’d find a way.”
“Well, I’ve got no interest in murdering you, big boy.”
The blush that filled Steve’s cheeks was stunning. A perfect pink dusting his skin, giving him a healthier glow than what he’d had for a while.
“What do you have interest in?”
Eddie could say any number of things to flirt, make his true intentions clear, maybe even go straight back to his single dorm instead of showing Steve anywhere.
But Eddie figured that’s all Steve was used to, or maybe he was always the one who had to put an effort into things.
Maybe he wasn’t used to getting treated like a human being.
“I’d like to get to know you. Parties like this aren’t really a good place to learn about someone’s favorite song or what they snack on when they wake up in the middle of the night.”
Steve seemed shocked by this answer, but his features quickly melted into a soft smile, one Eddie would want to see every single day.
“Fine. But it’s not a date,” Steve held out his hand, ready to be led.
Instead of lacing his fingers with Steve’s, or even just grabbing his hand in his palm, he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist again.
“We’ll see.”
———
On graduation day, Steve and Eddie found their way back to their spot, one they’d probably never visit again.
Eddie’s fingers were curled around Steve’s wrist as they stood facing each other, close enough to feel each other’s breaths against their lips.
Nearly two years together, nearly 300 trips to this spot, and more than 500 dates that they never called dates.
And it was just the beginning.
Eddie leaned in to press his lips to Steve’s gently, keeping it soft so they wouldn’t get carried away.
They had to meet Wayne at the Italian restaurant in less than an hour and then Steve’s mom expected them back at Steve’s apartment for a wine and dessert celebration.
They wouldn’t be properly alone like this again for at least a couple days, but they didn’t have time to do much about it right now.
“I love you,” Eddie whispered as he rested his forehead against Steve’s.
“I love you, too,” Steve said back.
He didn’t have dark shadows under his eyes anymore, spending more nights sleeping in bed with Eddie than awake at parties he didn’t want to be at. His hair had most of its shine back. He’d put on a few pounds after joining the gym again, using it as an outlet for stress instead of hiding in corners at parties where he would drink just enough to get buzzed four times a week.
He made friends with Eddie’s friends, plus some of his own when he got a part time job at the coffee shop on campus.
Steve never spoke to Tommy again, at least as far as Eddie knew. He didn’t seem interested in being his friend again, and once he told Eddie more about their “friendship”, he couldn’t really blame him.
“You ready to go see Wayne?” Steve asked him, probably more excited than even Eddie was.
Wayne and Steve bonded quickly and they’d probably spend most of the lunch talking about sports and where they would go fishing this summer.
Eddie nodded, but he pulled something from his pocket before Steve could pull away and start walking back to the car they now shared.
“What’s that?” Steve asked, pointing towards the envelope in Eddie’s hand.
“It’s a gift from me to you. Well, I guess both of us, but I really got it for you.”
He handed it to Steve, who opened it quickly.
He pulled out the paper inside and Eddie watched his eyes fly across the words written there.
“Eddie.”
“Stevie.”
“You got us a trip to Italy? How the fuck did you get us a trip to Italy?” Steve was looking at him, eyes wet with tears.
“Doesn’t matter how. Wayne gave us some money for it, so did your mom. I’ve been saving for a year. Want us to have something special before we have to start working.” Eddie kissed his forehead. “Plus I want any excuse to see you in some of those see-through linen shorts.”
Steve’s lips were on his, his arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him there.
“I’ll wear them every day,” he gasped as he leaned in for another kiss.
Eddie laughed. “You won’t hear any complaints from me, sugar.”
“I can’t believe you did this. All I got you was a t-shirt.”
“You know I love t-shirts. I know you love Italy. It’s a win-win for both of us.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but kissed him again.
His eyes widened. “Oh my god. Are you gonna propose in Italy?”
Eddie snorted. “Why would I answer that question?”
“Because! I have to know!”
“Why?”
“So I can make sure I have a nice outfit for pictures, dumbass.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see. You look good in everything,” Eddie kissed the top of his head before he wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist and tugged on it once. “Let’s get to Wayne before he sends a search party.”
Eddie smiled to himself as they walked to the car, Steve’s rambling about what he wanted to do in Italy keeping his mind from wandering too far. He couldn’t help thinking about the ring he had stashed away in his guitar case, though.
Italy was the perfect place to propose.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#idk I needed to get this off the notes app#but I just think Eddie taking Steve away from his very sad popular rich kid life is exactly how it goes in every universe#very Aladdin of him actually#drabble
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( 𝟮𝟴 ) ✏ 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 (𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗳 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻)
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none
𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲
“what are you wearing?” minjeong said slowly, brows furrowed as she set her bag down and took a seat in front of you. she was used to your usual overdressed sense of style, but this was entirely different today.
you raised your eyebrows at the president before moving your hair to show your outfit off more. “do you not like it?” the two of you had agreed to meet at a cafe near the university since jennie had an at home interview today and they wouldn’t be able to hold their session at their usual spot. soft jazz played in the establishment while minjeong got settled in her seat.
the blonde’s eyes scanned your ensemble as her confusion deepened. she gently shook her head before turning her attention to her book bag, unzipping it as she spoke.“it’s not that i don’t like it. it’s just unexpected. did you have something special planned today?”
you glanced at your watch, biting your lip in thought. “well, actually, yes. i’m going out after we’re done.”
minjeong blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to surprise. “isn’t your exam review tomorrow morning? you’ll be tired.”
you shrugged nonchalantly before rolling your eyes. “you sound like my sister.”
smu’s president forced a chuckle, her fingers fumbling with the zipper of her bag. “i just want you to do well,” she said softly, her eyes avoiding yours. “your hair looks cool.” you said as casually as possible, not even looking at the girl while you complimented her.
the blonde felt her face heat up slightly before mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ as she handed you a pencil. “so where are you going?”
you smiled, a hint of excitement in your eyes. “i have a date.”
minjeong didn’t know why her heart sank, though she managed to keep her expression neutral. “oh, that sounds nice,” she said, forcing a small smile. “who is this mystery person?”
“is this an interrogation, president?” you snickered as you adjusted your top. the other girl laughed, though it felt hollow. “because i need to know if i’m still driving you home tonight,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “i like having a plan.”
you rolled your eyes playfully. “well, don't worry, you won’t have to.” your hands flipped open your notebook and slid it to minjeong. it was customary to start your sessions with minjeong grading the homework she gave to you the previous session.
minjeong took the notebook, her eyes scanning the pages, but her mind was elsewhere. she forced herself to focus, scribbling notes and comments in the margins. the usual rhythm of your sessions provided a temporary distraction, but the thought of you on a date kept creeping back into her mind.
her gut feeling told her it was wonyoung. she didn’t like the feeling of wony going on a date with you. not because she liked you or anything, but because the taller girl wasn’t a good person.
well, that was minjeong’s logic anyway.
the usual session proceeded like normal, with you diving into the material and minjeong guiding you through the concepts. despite the concepts you were still struggling to understand, you both managed to focus and make progress.
your work always felt easier to do when she was present. minjeong truly was gifted, and you could see it in everything she did.
as the time neared 7:30, minjeong took out a red pen and started writing you some practice problems. “am i driving you to your date?” she said as a half joke, but also a half real question. you chuckled and shook your head. “no, she’s picking me up here.”
“wonyoung?” the president questioned in a manner as nonchalant as she could muster. your swift nod was the only answer you gave.
minjeong’s stomach churned, but she forced a smile. “alright then. i hope it goes well.” she slid your notebook back across the table to you and put her pen away.
“thanks,” you said, giving her a grateful smile. “thank you for your help, again.”
minjeong nodded as she rose to pack her bag, but didn’t leave her seat. “are you going on a date too?” you teased as you noticed the other girl hadn’t left yet and it was already close to 7:45.
minjeong laughed lightly, shaking her head. “no, no date for me tonight. i just want to make sure you’re okay before i leave.”
you appreciated her concern, but tried to downplay it. “i’ll be fine, really. jennie didn’t pay you to babysit me.” you joked, earning a raised eyebrow from the blonde. “i’d rather not upset your sister.”
you glanced at your phone, checking for any messages from wonyoung, but there were none. “everything okay?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual. you sighed, putting your phone down. “she’s late. maybe she got held up?”
minjeong bit her lip, feeling a mix of anger and sadness for you. “i’m sure she’ll be here soon,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “try calling her?”
and so you did, only to be left with dial tones and a voicemail greeting.
“she’s probably driving,” you said quickly and put your phone down again. minjeong hummed in feigned agreement, already having a feeling that wonyoung would not be coming.
another fifteen minutes passed, and minjeong’s concern grew. you kept glancing at your phone, checking the time and your messages. it was clear that wonyoung wasn’t coming, and your initial optimism was long gone.
finally, you sighed, slipping your phone back into your bag. “i guess she’s not coming,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the hurt in your voice.
minjeong’s heart broke at the tone in your voice. any other day, she would make fun of you or crack a joke. maybe even laugh at you. however, today she felt like just being supportive.
to be honest, she never wanted to see you upset. and to see you so disappointed over a girl who wasn’t worth it? it broke her heart.
“we can just go out instead.” the blonde suggested as she rose from her chair and swung her bag over her shoulder. you raised an eyebrow at the girl, smirking slightly as you also stood.
“like a date?”
“no, just like how we always go out.” the president quickly responded as she held the door open for the both of you to walk. “you’re holding my door open? seems like a date to me.” minjeong’s blush only deepened before she rolled her eyes at you.
“you know what, i’m taking you home.” minjeong huffed in annoyance. a grin crawled onto your face as you decided to keep teasing the president.
“are you going to open my car door too?”
“i’m actually going to lock it so you can’t get in.”
𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777
@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng
CLOSED.
#smau#kpop smau#aespa smau#aespa x reader#winter x reader#minjeong x reader#wlw#crack fic#kpop crack#fluff#the variable#perfectsunlight
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Cherry Blossom. aka - Cherry, Part Four.
a night of conversations, kisses and long awaited confessions.
pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - cursing, kissing (but no real smut).
word count - 2.6k
authors note - the babies are back!! no smut in this one - it was getting too long. but don’t you worry… there’s gonna be so much smut in part five !! sorry for the cliffhanger. love u <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.
The smoke from the bonfire is stinging your eyes, ash sticking to the strands of your hair. Orange embers burn rapidly, dry wood being occasionally thrown on top by drunk boys with red cups in their hands.
The music is way too loud for a forest party, but no one seems to care. Someone’s haphazardly strung lights between the trees, creating a surprisingly cosy ambience. The atmosphere is alive, charged with the electricity of being out later than curfew.
“M’lady!”
You laugh, accepting the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand.
“Thank you, kind sir,” you say as you curtsy sarcastically, making both of you laugh harder. “Hey, you didn’t bump into Steve on your way over here, did you? I haven’t seen him for like an hour.”
The curly haired boy kicks the toe of your sneaker with his.
“Saw him with that Clara girl, talking by the lake.”
You take a steadying breath, pretending it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.
“You should go and check if he needs rescuing,” Eddie jokes. “God knows she can talk for hours without coming up for air.”
You smile at him, pulling at one of his curls.
“Good idea. Just in case.”
“Just in case,” he winks, pushing you in the right direction.
You saunter down towards the water, spotting your best friend instantly. He’s stood with his arms across his chest, weight on one hip as he tries to listen to whatever Clara has to say. The minute he sees you, his posture is straightening, lips quirking up at the corners.
Clara turns around to see what Steve is looking at, her face falling when she recognises you.
“Hi. I don’t mean to interrupt! Just wanted to check if you needed another drink, Stevie.”
The boy grins, beckoning you closer with a nod of his head. When you’re near enough, he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, all affectionate and tender.
Oh.
You don’t do that.
The two of you have kept your romance completely behind closed doors, up until now. It hasn’t got a name, never mind a label, and you don’t need people asking questions when you don’t even know the answers yourself.
You could blame it on the alcohol, but you know Steve’s on his first drink. With your head spinning, you look up at him as if he is the sun and all things warm. He looks down at you the exact same way.
“I’m gonna go see where my friends are,” Clara says a little too loudly, strutting away with as much confidence as she can muster.
You have a sudden feeling that you’re the villain in her story, but you’re not entirely sure why.
“How many drinks have you had?” Steve asks as he pulls a strand of hair away from your face.
“This is my second. I was nursing my first one, Eddie says.”
The boy laughs, and you grab onto his bicep for support. The sound of it is enough to buckle your knees.
“This is my first. It’s not doing much for me.”
“You want something different? I’m sure Robin has that beer you like in her bag.”
“Nah, I’m okay. Don’t think I’m gonna drink any more tonight.”
Steve slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans, pulling you in closer and keeping them there.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay,” you whisper.
“Okay,” he whispers back.
And then he kisses you. Again. It’s slow and careful and so romantic that you think you might start crying about it.
“What time is it?” he asks when he pulls away as if nothing happened.
“Eleven thirty.”
“You wanna stay a bit longer?”
“Not if you don’t.”
Steve presses his lips to your forehead, hands cradling your cheeks.
“I kinda wanna go home.”
You smile at him, all soft and sweet.
“Then let’s go home. I’m getting a little cold, anyway. And I didn’t bring a jacket.”
“Will you ever learn?” he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders.
“If it means I have to stop wearing your jackets that I know you bring to parties just for me? No, I won’t.”
You weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but the way Steve chuckles soothes the sting of the accidental wound.
“Let’s go home, Cherry Baby.”
Home. The assumption that the two of you will always be returning to the same place makes your heart so full, you wonder how it doesn’t spill over.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
“You good?”
“Feet hurt.”
This happens every single time the two of you go to a party, so you feel as if you’re reliving a memory.
“Hop on.”
“Steve-”
“Cherry. Come on. We’ll get home quicker this way.”
You can’t argue with that. Steve crouches as you jump onto his back, his hands wrapping around your thighs to keep you steady. You wrap your arms around his neck from behind, resting your head on top of his.
“Comfy back there?”
You hum, the noise of agreement enough for Steve to start walking.
The two of you chat each others ears off on the way home, talking about nothing and everything. You laugh so hard at something he says that you end up with a mouthful of his hair, which he in turn finds hilarious.
“Have you thought any more about what I said the other day?”
“You say a lot of things, Steven.”
He chuckles, shaking his head and giving your thighs a squeeze.
“About college.”
You go quiet for a moment, and Steve wonders if he’s chosen the wrong time to have this conversation.
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s talk about it later, okay? When I’m not constantly worried I’m gonna accidentally trip and kill you.”
You nod, and he feels it. You know it needs to be a discussion sometime soon, but perhaps having it when you’re being carried down the street on your best friends back isn’t all that practical.
“Love you,” you mumble into the crook of Steve’s neck.
He shudders a little at your lips on his skin, leaning his head sideways to rest against yours.
“Love you, Cherry Pie. More than anything.”
You let Steve piggyback you all the way to his front door. Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you feel the need to.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Steve bumps his hip into yours as you both brush your teeth, laughing at your shocked reflection in the mirror.
“Are you okay?” you ask as you place your toothbrush back in its holder, right next to his.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
You hop up on the bathroom counter, sitting up so you’re eye to eye with the boy in front of you. He takes a step forward, standing between your legs as he splays his cold hands over your thighs.
“Why’d you ask?”
You trace over his fingers where they rest on your skin, quiet for a moment.
“You seemed pretty eager to go home tonight. It’s unlike you. You love a party. Leaving at eleven thirty is like… unheard of, for King Steve.”
“King Steve would rather be at home with you than at a party with all those people.”
“Really?”
“Really. Clara was going on about something or other, the music was too loud, and I could feel the chill coming in. It hit me, all of a sudden, that I’d rather be in bed. Or, anywhere else, as long as I was with you.”
You lean forward to rest your head against his chest, sighing when he starts playing with your hair gently.
“You’re a softie,” you mumble into his shirt. “And a mind reader.”
“It’s my one talent,” he chuckles. “I wish reading your mind was a college major. I’d be the best in the world.”
You shake your head, laughing like you can’t help it.
“If I don’t move soon, I’m gonna fall asleep on this bathroom counter.”
“Want me to carry you?”
“Contrary to popular belief,” you tease as you hop down, “my legs actually do work.”
Steve gasps, all theatrical and exaggerated, which only makes you laugh harder.
“Come on, sleepy girl. Let’s go to bed.”
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
“We’re not talking about stuff.”
You whisper it into the darkness, the trees rustling outside Steve’s window serving as the only sound you can hear.
“Hmm?”
Your legs are tangled with his, tired head resting on the boys shoulder as your sides are pressed together. You’re both lying on your backs, staring at the ceiling.
“We keep saying we’ll talk about stuff, but we haven’t been. It’s not like us.”
“You mean, like, feelings?”
“Yeah.”
All that can be heard now is two sets of heaving lungs. Steve’s hand finds yours under the duvet, fingers intertwining.
“Is there something specific that’s bothering you?”
“Not bothering me as such. I just… I think the more we don’t talk, the more complicated things become.”
There’s silence for a moment, before Steve speaks.
“I’m scared, Cherry.”
The tone of his voice is paper thin and vulnerable, and you will yourself not to cry about it.
“Of what, Stevie?”
You squeeze his hand, tucking yourself further into his side until there isn’t an inch of space between you.
“Of… everything changing. You’re my best friend in the entire world, and I know that what we’ve been doing isn’t typical… best friend stuff. I just…” he takes a deep breath, exhaling carefully. “I worry that something will happen and we’ll break up, and I’ll lose you forever.”
His voice cracks on the last word, fear seeping through his pores. Yet, he continues.
“I’d die without you, Cherry. I really would. I don’t know what it’s like to live in a world where we’re not… us.”
You turn onto your side to face him in the dark, reaching up to cradle his cheek softly. You rest your forehead against his temple, pressing a kiss into his skin.
“I’m scared too. I have been ever since that first night in my room. Not because I don’t trust you, or because I don’t feel that way about you… but because I don’t want to lose you either. More than anything, I don’t want to lose you.”
“Why didn’t we talk about this sooner?” he laughs, throat thick with emotion.
“Because we’re us. And whether we talk or don’t talk, we know we’ll figure it out. We always know we’ll be okay.”
“I love you,” he whispers into the dark. “More than all the stars in the sky.”
“I love you,” you whisper back. “More than all the grains of sand on all the beaches in the world.”
You press another kiss into his temple, letting your lips linger on his soft skin. He smells so familiar, so warm, so yours… you can’t help but inhale, chuckling when he shudders.
You continue to leave kisses across his jaw, over his ear, down his neck. He tilts his head to give you better access, groaning when you nip at his throat with your teeth, licking over the scrape to soothe him.
Steve pulls you in as if you weigh nothing, moving you so you’re lying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his lap, as he does the same so you’re chest to chest. Running his hands under your shirt and over the bare skin of your back, he rests his forehead against yours.
“You look so pretty like this,” he hums against your lips. “Prettiest girl in the world.”
“You wanna talk about pretty?” you tease, running your fingers through his hair. “My pretty, pretty boy.”
Steve’s hips buck up into yours, making you giggle.
“Oh, you like that? You like it when I call you pretty? Or do you just like it when I call you mine?”
His hips buck again as his cheeks flush pink.
“I am yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been.”
You thought you had the upper hand for a minute, but now you just want to cry. You’re overwhelmed by the way you feel about the boy underneath you, unsure of how to process it without bursting into tears.
“All mine,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your fingertip.
Steve takes a deep breath, watching your eyes as they look over him again and again, taking him in as if it’s the first time. He decides it’s now or never.
“Cherry?”
“Stevie?”
Your voices are low and careful, irregardless of the fact that you’re alone in the house.
“I’m in love with you.”
Your heart stops, and so does the world outside. Everything pauses, the two of you suspended in this moment in time.
Steve takes another breath, exhaling it carefully before meeting your eyes and continuing.
“You don’t have to say it back. Now, or ever. I just - I needed you to know.”
You blink back tears as you watch his face, biting your lip to stop them from falling.
“Steve-”
“Hey, I told you. You don’t have to say anything, babe. I know-”
“Shut up.”
“What?”
“Just-”
You surge forward and kiss him with all the affection you can muster, trying to express your feelings. You grip his hair, plastering your bodies together where you sit in his lap still. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in as close as he can.
“If you let me talk,” you say when you pull away, all breathless, “you’d hear that I have something I’d like to say.”
Steve smiles, humming in acknowledgment and encouraging you to keep going.
“I’m in love with you, too.”
The boy looks shocked to hear it, as if it’s news to him.
“What’s that face for?” you laugh.
“I just… I didn’t expect you to say it back.”
“Steve,” you chuckle, looking at him sternly. When you realise he’s being serious, you double down. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. When we were kids, and someone would say the word ‘husband’, I always pictured you. I was so convinced it was always going to end up being you and I.”
“Why… why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“Why didn’t you?”
He laughs, and the sound makes you feel as if you’re on cloud nine. You can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed to yours, frantic like he’s just ran a marathon.
“Fuck, I love you.”
He leans up to kiss you, all saccharine and honey sweet.
“Say it again,” you whisper against his lips.
“I’m in love with you, Cherry.”
“Say it again.”
“I, Steve Harrington, declare that I am completely, utterly, ridiculously in love with this girl right here. I always have been. I always will be.”
You can’t help but throw your head back with laughter.
“And I love you. So much.”
The words you’ve always said mean so much more now. It’s a welcome change, one you never thought you’d see happen.
“Hey Steve?”
“Hmm?”
You lean in, nosing at his jaw as you murmur into his ear.
“Want you. So bad.”
“Fuck, honey,” he groans, all low and rough.
“Please. Want it to be you.”
Looking up at you with big eyes, he searches your face for any kind of hesitation.
“Are you sure?”
Smoothing his hair away from his face, you trace your thumb over his bottom lip.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he grins. “I’m about to rock your world, Cherry Blossom.”
@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @clairesjointshurt @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss @ladyburberry @thenonweeknd @abarelyexistentbeing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @slut4gaga @hopelessromanticwriter @mgchaser @wintrsoldrluvr
#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x bestfriend!reader#bestfriend!steve harrington#bestfriend!steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x bestfriend reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things fluff
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My Brother's Best Friend Pt6
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Noella chewed silently on a salted pretzel as I disclosed the details of my hookups with a certain blonde. We had been talking for a whopping hour and a half per Noella's request to know every single detail.
"You're telling me, that you lost your girl on girl virginity two years ago and never told me?" Noella finally asked after swallowing a bite of her food.
"That's all you got from this?" I frowned, unimpressed.
"No, no no. I just need a minute to process the fact that you've been secretly hooking up with Paige for almost a month," Noella said.
"Okay in my defense, I thought that weak shit two years ago was gonna be a one-time thing," I argued, resting my elbows on the table.
"But?"
I sighed, "But then she came into my room to say 'goodbye' after Thanksgiving break."
Noella snorted and shook her head, tucking a few strands behind her ear. "You're insane, you know that?"
"Insanely active," I smirked.
Noella ripped a piece of her pretzel off and squished it around with her fingers before eating it. I waited patiently for her to say something, to either continue my dirty joke or change the subject entirely. When she finally did speak, I wished it had been one of the above.
"So what's the deal with you two? Are you talking, dating, like, what's up?" she asked.
I didn't know the answer, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about what it could be on multiple occasions. Whether it was by choice or it was simply because I didn't have the courage to talk to anyone else, I was exclusively hooking up with Paige. But that didn't mean that she was exclusively hooking up with me. College did interesting things to a person. It not only made you, in Paige's case, blonder and hotter, but it also made you wilder.
How could I be sure that Paige wasn't keeping herself busy when she was 1,300 miles away from me? I couldn't, and that's what scared me the most. I was carelessly giving her the key to my heart, not even caring what she did with it. For all I knew she was looking for someone else to pass the responsibility onto and having her own fun along the way.
But then I thought back to earlier, how this hookup felt different from the others. We had started off slower, savoring the taste of each other's lips. She told me she missed me. Was that all just a hoax to get me to let my guard down easier? The way her eyes had traced every detail of my face, admiringly staring at me. No, it couldn't be.
Was I driving myself crazy?
"You still there babe?" Noella waved her freshly manicured hand in front of my face, pulling my attention back toward her.
"Yeah, yeah i'm here," I nodded.
"Okay...Are you gonna answer the question?" The blonde was now leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at me with quizzical eyes.
I shrugged silently and slid my slushy off the table, toying around with the straw before taking a long sip. "I would if I could."
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Game night in the Collymor house was hands down the most anxiously anticipated event of the month. Six players, three teams, and a different selection of games every time. The night consisted of greasy foods and hot takes swirling around in a pool of competitiveness. Everyone wanted to win, but at the end of it all, only one team would walk away smiling.
I adjusted my pajamas in the mirror, a light pink floral set with dark pink flowers scattered throughout it. My hair was freshly washed, hanging down my back in soaked spirals dripping with product. I applied a layer of chapstick to my lips, a popping noise echoing in the room after I'd finished.
Noella was seated on the bed, scrolling idly on her phone as she waited for me to finish. I had never put much into my appearance on game night mainly because of how long the night lasted, but this time was different. Paige was here per usual, but I knew she was looking at me. Suddenly, Noella groaned from behind me, and her eyes shot up to meet mine in the reflection.
"What is it?" I frowned.
"Please respond in this fucking group chat, these bitches won't listen to me," she complained.
"What group chat?"
"The cheer chat," she breathed out, narrowing her eyes.
"What are they saying?" I asked as I moved to grab my phone from my dresser.
"They don't believe me about the practice times changing. Just because i'm not head captain, doesn't mean i'm clueless!" Her eyebrows were knitted together as she spoke, frustration evident in her expression.
Cheer was practically Noella's life, and when the captain title was passed down to me, she was heartbroken. So, I made sure that she had as much power on the leaderboard as I did.
I read over the messages in the group chat, frowning as I learned how they had out right ignored Noella's info text about the practice times. Before I could figure out how to address it, I heard my mom calling everyone from downstairs.
Sighing, I set the phone down on the bed. "We'll deal with it later, c'mon."
I grabbed her hand and we made our way out of the room where we ran into Micah and Paige in the hallway. They were clad in various shades of purple; lilac socks, lavender shirts, amethyst basketball shorts they had gotten from an athletic camp last summer. They held proud smiles on their faces as they emerged from the cave Micah called a room.
Noella snorted, "No way you guys coordinated your outfits."
"So what if we did?" Micah frowned, "It's better than those pieces of string you two call pajamas."
"At least I wear pajamas! Can't imagine waking up with literally nothing covering my chest," she retorted.
The two of them descended the steps, their petty bickering continuing. Before I could follow after them, I felt a familiar hand graze over my butt. My motions came to a halt when Paige leaned over to whisper in my ear, "These things are little."
I bit my lip when she gently squeezed, "Try not to let 'em throw you off your game."
She scoffed and slipped past me, "You and I both know that's not possible."
The comment was meant to be funny, and I tried to find the will within me to laugh as I walked down the steps and into the living room, but I just couldn't. I had probably taken it deeper and more personal than I should've, letting the poisonous meaning I had interpreted it to have infect my mind.
'You and I both know that's not possible.'
Paige completely pulled my attention away from everything else. She was the first person I looked for when I entered a room, regardless of whether I knew she was there or not. When I was in her presence, I was hyperaware of everything I did. Was I breathing too quickly -- too slowly? Was I walking funny? Should I fix my hair? I'd carefully plan my outfits on the days I knew Micah had invited her over, obnoxiously discreetly placing myself wherever they'd be.
In the midst of all of that; all the planning, the watching, the waiting, had Paige even given me a second thought? On the days that she'd come over straight after practice, was she subconscious about the fact that she smelled funky? On the summer days that our family spent at our lake house, was she worried about what I'd think of her in her bathing suit? Could she have even considered me for a moment as I unwittingly surrendered my heart to her?
Who was I kidding? Of course she hadn't, and after thinking over our entire relationship, I didn't know how I hadn't seen it sooner.
Paige was a basketball phenom; McDonald's All American, she had made the cover of SLAM magazine, and she was destined to go to the WNBA.
And I was just her best friend's little sister.
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its short, ik, don't be mad. but in my defense when i started this story i didn't think people would actually like it so i didn't have a real storyline in mind. IM TRYING HERE.
there's so much cooking in my brain i can't keep up w everything
probably gonna start another series soon too😫
#brother's best friend#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#wlw post#uconn wbb#wlw#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers x oc
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cariño — luke alvez
pairing : luke alvez x gn!bau!reader ➖⟢ genre : hurt/comfort, fluff ➖⟢ cw : car crash, mentions of blood and injuries, concussion, pet names (honey, sweetheart, cariño, baby), swearing, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K ➖⟢ listen to : cariño by the marías
summary : you get injured while chasing after an unsub, and luke is there to take care of you.
also i think i was subconsciously inspired by one of my fav luke fics concussed at the end lol so check that one out, too!!
adrenaline pumps through your veins the way it always does during a car chase. this one is entirely chaotic as you weave the large black suv through other innocent cars, trying to keep up with the unsub. luke is in the passenger's seat, feeding you updates and directions from garcia as you step on the gas.
“left up ahead!” luke instructs, and your hands grip the wheel tight as you yank it to the side last minute to avoid hitting traffic. the tires squeal, but you make the turn and find yourself on an open road, houses and office buildings quickly fading into trees. you can see the unsub’s car just as it rounds a corner in front of you, and you increase your speed without the danger of hitting a civilian’s car. for a moment, you’re glad because this makes your capture easier, then that exact thought spikes confusion and worry in your mind.
“why the hell’d he turn here?” you question through gritted teeth, “it would be harder for us to get to him if he kept on the busier roads.”
“shit,” luke curses in agreement, “garcia, what’s past the corner we’re about to round?”
there’s a moment of silence as you continue speeding down the road. “nothing!” comes penelope’s voice through luke’s phone.
“nothing?” he repeats to confirm.
“no, nothing, is there supposed to be something?” garcia asks, worry quickly seeping into her tone.
“we need to slow down,” luke dictates as you’re already easing up on the gas and preparing to step on the brakes. but the speed of the car makes almost no difference as you round the corner, eyes peeled and body tensed to react quickly to anything the unsub might throw your way. maybe he’s stopped the car in attempts to surprise you into breaking or swerving dangerously, likely waiting with a gun in hand to try and shoot you down.
what you don’t expect, what none of you could have expected at all, is the new car that comes barelling into the road, hidden by a driveway to the left, right after the curve.
luke shouts your name in warning, and with a glimpse of the dark grey vehicle in the corner of your eye, you slam back on the gas and swerve further left in hopes that the car catch the tail end of the suv and send the it spinning down the road, rather than t-bone you and send you off the side of the road.
you’re not quick enough, just about no one could be. the grey car was ready for you, and it hits the driver’s side with a sickening crunch before running you right off the road. the airbags inflate almost right on impact and the car lurches to a halt when it bends to the will of a tall, thick tree.
it happens beyond fast, all of it a blur of sharp pain and the mixed voices of luke’s exclaimations and penelope’s worried voice calling your names until there’s nothing at all.
—
when luke wakes, he can still hear penelope’s voice. it takes a long, groggy and painful moment for it to come into focus. he groans as he forces his eyes open.
“luke! luke, oh my god! are you there? can you hear me? luke, answer me, please,” her voice is completely panicked, and oddly far away. luke realizes his phone must have fallen to the ground in the crash. then he remembers there’s been a crash.
“garcia?” he croaks out, trying to sit up from where he’s awoken against the door to turn his pained neck, because the most important thing he remembers then is that you were driving.
“luke! thank god. oh my god. there’s an ambulance on the way. luke, are you okay? i can’t hear you well and where’s y/n? are they okay?” garcia is practically begging for good news as she rambles out questions to him.
“i’m fine,” he calls to her, lying, “concussion, probably. i’m checking on y/n right now.” he’s trying to sound calm for her sake, but he’s silently panicking because he hasn’t heard a sound from your side of the car. you probably took the brunt of the hit, too. he’s terrified of what he’ll see when he finally can get a decent look at you.
there’s blood dripping down your face, reflecting the sunlight seeping in through the broken car windows as it seeps past your closed eyelids. you’re knocked out cold, far colder than he was, and your head slumps against the deflated airbag on the steering wheel. you’re facing him, and he thinks that seeing you like this is his worst nightmare. but his head is starting to clear up, probably only momentarily, and though his whole body aches, he can tell that nothing’s broken. with ample effort, he reaches over to you, calling your name softly, then urgently as he presses his fingers to your pulse point. when he feels the weak throb of blood pumping through your veins, he heaves a sigh of relief.
“they’re alive,” he calls to garcia, “still knocked out,” he explains, the strain in his voice evident. “i need to focus on them, okay garcia? have you called emily?”
“i patched her in while you were still out, she’s on the way with jj and spence. do you promise you’re okay?” she’s still talking like she’s barely breathing.
“garcia, i need you to breathe while i try to wake them up, okay?” it’s taking all of luke’s control to stay calm for garcia as he struggles to be closer to you. he checks for breathing, then for any obvious injuries other than your head. then, he’s stroking the side of your face, so gentle as he calls out your name.
“okay, okay, i can do that,” comes garcia’s muffled voice, but luke’s already practically tuned her out. all he’s worried about is you, the way your face looks calm now, even covered in blood, and the way it’ll inevitably twist in pain when you wake. he keeps calling your name, but there’s no response. he’s too afraid to move you for fear of making any unseen injuries worse.
“garcia, how long for the ambulence?” he calls, panic beginning to seep into his voice.
“it’s three minutes out,” she responds, and if he weren’t so preoccupied with you, he’d be able to picture the fear in her face, the severe furrow of her eyebrows, maybe tears on her cheeks as she prays you’ll be okay. but all he sees is the way you’re stuck in your seat, trapped between the front of the car that hit you, its driver long gone by now, and the front dashboard that’s been pushed forward by the strength of the tree and collision.
the way he says your name is like the pleading of a desperate prayer. his shaky hand is still on the side of your face, the pad of his thumb brushing against your cheek.
“c’mon, honey. you gotta wake up.”
with that comes the first sign of life outside of your shallow breaths and weak heartbeat. your brows furrow slightly and a quiet groan escapes the back of your throat.
“hey, hey. that’s it, cariño, c’mon. can you hear me?” he begs. he gets another pained whimper and slight flutter of your eyelids, but your eyes still don’t open. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. you’re alright. wake up, y/n. come on, you got this.”
when your eyes finally flit open, everything’s blurry. you blink once, twice, as you try to focus on the voice that you think might be calling your name. it’s familiar, but sounds far away. then you groan and your face contorts in pain. everything hurts, bad.
“don’t try to move, okay?” those are the first words you catch and can put the meaning together, “you’re alright, the ambulence will be here soon. cariño, can you hear me?”
you try to say yes, but all you can get out is a strangled, “hmm.” luke. you want to say his name as his face comes into focus and you register his gentle hand on your face. the soft brush of his thumb and the gentle sound of his voice are comforting, even as the pain grows with every waking moment.
“that’s good, you’re doing so good,” he reassures. he hates the way your cheek and forehead are shoved uncomfortably against the steering wheel, so as carefully as he can, he maneuvers his other hand to cup your head so you can rest against him instead of the hard, unorgiving surface of the wheel. your face pinches in pain when he does so, but you relax a little once your cheek settles against the soft skin of his palm.
“there you go, that’s a little better, huh? can you see me?”
this time your hum is a little more intelligible as a clear, “mhmm.” you try to keep your eyes and senses focused on luke and his pretty, worried face, but it’s difficult when the pain is so ever present, digging into your ribs and hips and chest and legs and god, your head is pounding, spinning, stabbing, throbbing in pain. luke wants to cry himself when he feels your tears mix with your blood on his hands.
“shhh, you’re gonna be okay. i know it hurts, but the ambulance is almost here, baby,” his words are comforting, and you don’t want him to stop, but it only gets worse.
“luke,” you groan, unable to say much else to express how much pain you’re in and how much you need him to keep saying sweet things and calling you pretty names.
“yeah, i know, i know. ‘m right here, i got you. we’re gonna get you fixed up so soon. just stay with me, okay? ambulance’s almost here.”
“okay,” you agree breathily, but your eyes want to close and try to shut the pain out.
“no, no, stay awake, honey. i need you to stay awake, okay?” he repeats. “you hear that? that’s the ambulance, it’s almost here,” he assures you. sure enough, if you focus, you can hear the sirens as they get closer.
“okay. ‘m awake,” you mumble, pinching your eyebrows together in concentration and squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment before focusing your eyes back on luke’s concerned face.
“that’s good, there you go. don’t worry about anything else, i got you. you stay awake, and i’ll take care of the rest, alright?” his gaze leaves you for just a moment as the ambulance pulls up and the emts run out of the vehicle to help.
“yeah,” you respond, and he can feel your jaw clenching against his palm every time you hold back a little cry of pain. he hates it because it’s often, because even now, you’re acting strong for the sake of someone else.
then there’s a paramedic opening the door to the passengers side, requesting for him to get out and to the ambulance.
“not until you get them out,” luke protests, not even bothering to look away from you, “i’m staying with them.”
“sir, i’m sorry, but we need you to get out so we can reach them. that door isn’t going to open until we can move the other car, and we need to stabilize your friend as soon as possible,” the medic explains. luke holds back a curse and clenches his jaw in anger because he knows he needs to leave you, but would rather do anything but that.
“cariño, i have to get out so the medics can help you, but i’ll be back with you the second i can, okay?” he explains to you gently, already slipping his hands away from your head with all the care in the world.
you whine in protest, and though what he’s saying makes sense, you don’t want him to be away from you for even a moment.
“i know. i’m so sorry, but i’ll be right back, okay honey?” his heart is practically breaking as he pulls away from you and stumbles out of the car with the help of a medic. within seconds, another medic has crawled into the car, speaking comfortingly as she assesses the situation up close. and while you appreciate her gentleness, it’s not nearly as comforting as having luke. it’s a task, but the other medic gets luke to sit down on the side of the road a few feet away before climbing into the car from the back seat to help stabilize your neck and get you sitting upright in your seat.
luke wants to throw something or cry, or maybe both, when he hears your pained sounds coming from the car. more than anything, he wants to be near you to hold your hand, but he knows there’s not enough room for him and the medics to do their jobs.
when there’s nothing left for them to do until they can move you, they allow luke to climb back into the car and hold your hand from the back seat after checking him for severe injuries.
“hey, there. i’m back, sweetheart, just like i promised,” he says as he reaches over the console to curl his fingers around yours.
“mhmm,” you hum in relief, unable to really speak with the brace around your neck.
only moments later, more emergency vehicles arrive, including a black suv that luke knows to contain emily, jj, and spencer.
“we’ll be able to get you out so soon, now. and emily, jj, and spence are here to help, too,” luke tells you, hoping to bring you a bit of good news. in your current state, he doesn’t expect you to answer aloud, but he smiles a bit when you squeeze his hand.
—
at the hospital, hours later, luke sits in your dark room, holding your hand and resting his head against your forearm. it was practically hell to him, being made to rest in a hospital bed himself for an hour or two before they let him sit in your room instead. his concussion is mild, much more so than yours. you’re sleeping soundly, a little frown on your face that luke both wishes would go away and can’t help but find it oddly adorable. matt reported to him that you woke up once before, dazed and confused from your injury before falling back asleep.
the darkness of your room helps him, but his head still pounds dully as he wishes you’d wake up so he can say something to you, so he can hear your voice and maybe feel just a little bit less worried about you.
with his head down, he doesn’t see your eyes drift slowly open, but he feels the twitch of your fingers inside his own hand. immediately, he raises his head to check on you, and his gaze softens infinitely when he sees you’re awake.
“hey,” he whispers, “how are you feeling?”
you take in a raspy breath before speaking, “um… i’m okay, i think. my head hurts,” you pout. “what… what happened?” the nurses had warned that you might suffer from some temporary retrograde amnesia.
“we were in a car crash,” honey, he wants to add.
you inhale sharply, “oh. are you okay?” you sound so worried and sweet that luke wants to soothe you with a kiss to your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere you’d let him. he settles for squeezing your hand comfortingly.
“i’m very okay,” he reassures, happily glossing over the fact that his head hurts, too. “that’s why i’m here, to take care of you, because you have a bad concussion.”
“oh,” you repeat, and from the way you’re talking and the tone of your voice, luke concludes that you’re still clearly affected by the concussion, “is everyone else okay? we’re on a case, right?”
“yeah, we’re on a case,” he has to hold back from the pet names again, “and everyone’s okay, just a little worried about you.”
your brow furrows at that, and he thinks your eyes grow a little shiny from tears. “don’t wan’ anybody to worry about me,” you fuss.
“oh, sweetheart,” it slips out so easy and natural that he can’t hold it back, “we just want to be sure that you’re okay,” he explains, so soft and sweet, “but since you’ll be just fine, we won’t worry too much, okay?”
“okay,” you sigh. the pout stays stuck to your lips, but you don’t protest anymore and he thinks tears are avoidable, now.
“i’m gonna grab a doctor to check on you,” luke tells you as he begins to stand and let his hand slip away from yours. your hand tightens around his and the tears spring right back into your eyes.
“don’t go,” you whine all sweet and simple.
“i promise i’ll be right back, but i need to get a doctor to make sure everything’s alright, okay?”
you shake your head, then squeeze your eyes shut in pain. that action sends a few tears out and rolling down the sides of your face. when your eyes open, a few more drops spill out as your breathing grows a little heavy and panicked.
luke settles right back down at your side and squeezes your hand with renewed urgency, “okay, okay. i got it, i’m here.” he brings his other hand to the side of your face, ever so gentle to avoid hurting you as he wipes at your tears, “i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”
he sighs, but his face softens when you relax into his touch. “will you tell me when it’s okay for me to get a doctor? i promise it’ll only take a second, and it’ll help me not to worry about you,” he adds.
this makes your expression turn conflicted. it’s plain to him that you’re mulling over the options carefully in that pretty little head of yours.
after long consideration, you relent, “okay. but you can’t be gone long, please.”
“i won’t, i promise. i’ll be right back, okay?”
“okay,” you agree, but your voice is so sad that luke would rather do anything than leave your side. your fingers chase after his as he gets up, even when your muscles are tired, pained, and weak.
luke flags down a nurse, who gets a doctor to show up within a few minutes. she comes and confirms that your status is the same as before, all you need is rest and to be extra careful goin forward. you sigh in relief when she says that you should be discharged tomorrow or the day after, and you’re cleared to fly soon after that as long as you’re continually resting. your memory from around the time before the crash might remain spotty, but should clear up at least a little with time and proper care.
“luke,” you mumble once the doctor’s gone.
“yeah? can i get you something? water?” he asks, all caring and concerned.
“no. well, water would be nice in a minute, but luke,” you implore, “i jus’ really like you, and i wish that you’d kiss me. i’m pretty sure i’ve wished that for a while. but i definitely wish it now.”
those words nearly knock the breath out of his lungs, but he has to recompose himself quickly to deal with the fact that you’re only saying so because you’re severely concussed.
“i also wish you were my boyfriend,” you continue.
“i really like you, too,” he says, beginning gentle and truthful to ease into the fact that he can’t kiss you right now.
“so you’ll kiss me?” you slur hopefully. he sighs because he knows his answer probably won’t come across well in your current state.
“i will if that’s what you still want when your head clears up a little more, okay?” he concedes. he means it, too. he really would like to kiss you.
“but not now?” you sound so disappointed that luke is having trouble holding back. your eyes are shiny again and he wants to kiss the tears away.
“i’m sorry, but not yet.” the pronounced pout on your lips does not help his case.
“do you not want to?” you ask helplessly, and there’s tears slipping down your face again.
“oh, hey, don’t cry. i do, i promise i do, but i can’t right now,” he explains without making any headway in calming you down. you don’t seem to believe him.
he stands to lean over you and lay both of his hands against your face to wipe the tears gently awake. from the pinch of your brows and tightness of your lips, he thinks you’re probably crying from the pain, too. he shushes you softly as he presses a whisper of a kiss to your forehead when he can’t hold back from doing so anymore.
“it’s okay. don’t cry,” he mumbles into the bandage wrapped around your head. for good measure, he kisses the skin of your forehead again, since the first one seemed to calm you down significantly. it appears that the contact of his lips to your skin, regardless of whether it was on your own lips or not, was enough to sedate and please you, because the tears have stopped and there’s a little smile on your face when he looks.
“can you hug me, too?” you ask sweetly.
“of course i can,” he confirms as he wraps his arms around you, as careful and soft as possible.
he holds you until your hand drops from his shoulder and you say plainly, “i’m tired.” he moves away slightly, brushing his thumb sweetly under your eye before he settles back down on the chair.
“alright. why don’t you go to sleep, then? i’ll be here when you wake up, cariño.”
your smile turns a little dopey at that word. “cariño,” you slur out. “i hope you’ll kiss me then, cariño.” with that, you send his heart into a flutter as your eyes drift closed and your breathing evens out.
he whispers, “i will, cariño, i will.”
#luke alvez#luke alvez x reader#luke alvez requests#criminal minds#luke alvez fluff#luke alvez hurt/comfort#criminal minds evolution#criminal minds requests#criminal minds blurb#criminal minds angst#luke alvez angst#criminal minds scenarios#criminal minds hurt/comfort#criminal minds luke alvez#luke alvez fanfiction#luke alvez imagine#luke alvez fic#luke alvez criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#luke alvez x reader imagine#luke alvez x reader fic
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s2 episode 1 thoughts
here we goooooo!
(i started to imagine the sound of a really long and celebratory air horn to commemorate starting s2... but then that mental sound was awful so we ended that pretty quick)
it opens with mulder providing some gentle asmr about aliens and space with a thinly disguised undercurrent of rage in his voice, nice...
he starts talking about a guy named "richard bryan" cutting an alien survey program and that is such a generic name i figured they made it up for the show. and wrote "haha wouldn't it be funny if that was a real guy. and they made this whole episode just to mess with him."
chat. you're never gonna believe this. richard bryan was real and he did in fact cut the alien program. how do you think he felt being name dropped here? neeeeed to get his side of the story
(they also talk about the voyager a bit here which is really cool i won't lie)
now, what has our duo been up to in the time away from the x files? mulder is listening to men talk about lap dances and spitting sunflower seeds... i am not surprised here... all in the name of Research...
but scully is teaching at the academy!!! oh this delighted me to no end!
she starts getting emotional over the concept of a life being contained within tissue and her student is like "you sound spooky" ha. ha. i see what they did there. mulder you're a terrible influence.
they run into each other and she is so happy to see him but he totally blows her off! i was so sad!!!!
AUGH HE HAS HIS SISTER'S PHOTO ON HIS NEW DESK. aughhh man hold on. hold on.
scully is waiting outside watergate (wild they hadn't rebranded at that point tbh) for a shadowy figure and it is mulder! a very cranky and tired looking mulder! he's like we shouldn't be meeting, what do you need me for.... omg rude??
"so what did you want?" "to see if you're alright" (sound of me being sucked into emotional quicksand rapidly)
to answer her question of "are you okay" he begins to ramble about telescopes which is very in character
he says he saw deep throat's funeral but i remain suspicious....
the x files project being shut down has destroyed the man we used to know as mulder! he says that he isn't even sure if what happened to his sister is real anymore! they killed his spirit! "seeing isn't enough... i need solid evidence. i learned that from you" HEY OUCH?????
he's on the ground filled with a deep sadness and she runs her fingers through his hair, at which point i made this note: "y'all i'm only on season 2 i can't do this. i'm gasping so aggressively my mouth is hurting" so safe to say that i will be in for a hell of a ride moving forward... keep me in ur thoughts
baby fox flashback! we see his sister's abduction, which is obviously supposed to be very heavy and traumatic but i was laughing at the skinny little alien throwing her through the window lmaooo i love you 90's cgi <3
PAUSE. we see mulder waking up in a cold sweat from reliving his worst memory. but i see something new in the background: a fish tank in his room. this is a striking development that shall not slip by unnoticed.
and then some guy bursts into his room? and takes him to "the hill" to meet with a politician, who keeps calling him fox? who says they're being listened to? and tells him he needs to go to puerto rico where they're hiding evidence?
(tbh that sequence raised a lot more questions than it answered but i did love that mulder can name the bach piece that is being played because of his college music class lol)
SKINNER MENTIONED!!!! okay i figured out who he is: he's the one with the glasses and the fancy desk and the sidekick who is ALWAYS smoking. glad to have a name to the face. like yeah he was there last season but i had other things to focus on i guess.
cutscene to mulder lounging in a truck bed in puerto rico. niiiice. climbing compilation- niiiiiiice. and busting things open? hell yeah niiiiice
gasp... scully broke into his place (which i think is an entirely new set? or at least from a different angle. but um. okay i'll try and ignore that. but can anyone confirm or deny...?)
anyway she puts her glasses on and slips into password guessing mode and succeeds... i would have thought the FBI would keep tighter passwords on their personal devices than "trustno1" but hey maybe he did that so she could strategically break in!
and some dudes bust in and ask why she's here so she's like ummm i feed the fish lol.....
(and then she refuses to endanger the fish by overfeeding them because that's the type of person she is... and if it provides cover for sneaking out something printed from his computer well that's just a bonus!)
back to puerto rico!! guy in the bathroom reveal!!! mulder cannot speak spanish (smh mulder you were supposed to be the humanities one) but the dude draws a picture of an alien so i guess that proves that art is a universal language <3
scully is taking his paper she printed to some guy to analyze idk her freckles were distracting me again. sorry. NOT! i refuse to apologize. not during june.
(but she goes through some flight records and sees his alias and realizes where he's going and follows)
again, back to puerto rico! our new friend jorge is running for his life into a storm so our patient pal mulder naturally runs after him. into the jungle. and ohhhh jorge is dead now? that was quick.
he does a DIY autopsy on jorge while speaking into the voice recorder- which he addresses as "scully", while sounding like he is going to get sick, kicking things, sweating profusely, and doubting himself. hell yeah baby this is tv! i wanna see that man in situations!
"before i could only trust myself, now i can only trust you, and they've taken you away from me... my life up until this point has been about seeing her again, but what would i do if they really came?"
(now the first part of that is WILD. they've taken you away from me. that phrasing... also, they have successfully gotten the man to doubt his entire existence. sneaky little fbi trick there, making "trust no one" include himself)
BUT the skinny legend aliens return and he is brought back to his sense quickly. he gave it a good go (shot at it a bunch of times) but weirdly the gun didn't fire... probably a good thing. imagine the complications to alien diplomacy that would create!
he wakes up on the floor to scully explaining who she is and asking if he remembers her. he bolts awake, grabs her shoulders, and says that it was the same alien that took his sister. she is already deeply concerned when he then kicks aside a dead body and says we have to analyze it and her face in this moment was delightful. it was very much giving "mulder you're scaring me" just with the eyes
she has to make him realize they can't smuggle a body back to the states OR any of the paperwork really so he just grabs an audio thing that was clearly a better choice. but i want to know how he thought they were gonna get jorge out of there. because the alien hunters were coming to kill him and speed is hard enough for alive people.
"evidence doesn't matter if you're dead!" -dr. dana scully
they crash their way through the jungle, getting shot at and generally destroying what i'm sure is a very important ecosystem but still. they made it out! sorry to the environment </3
mulder gets called into skinner's office (i know that guy's name now!!! i'm so proud) and yelled at for blowing off his case work... and cigarette sidekick is also yelling at him but skinner kicks ciggy man out... is he... an ally? he tells him to go back to work on the job mulder finished like 2 weeks ago...... okay so what i'm seeing here is a boss who is willing to let a man pursue his passions
at the very end we see our duo reunited and it appears the audio he smuggled out of puerto rico had nothing recorded on it!
she tries to encourage him and he seems to be doing better: "i may not have the x files, scully, but i still have my work... (looong pause) and i still have you... (looong pause) and i still have myself" <- okay so looks like we're getting our boy back!!! who cheered?! meee!
he returns to the recording of men discussing strippers and she grasps his hand and then leaves him to his task...
BUT! the minute she leaves, he puts the first audio file back on and it seems to be working now... so why didn't he want her to know???
what is going on!!! i thought "trust no one" would logically mean mulder not trusting himself, but to not trust scully? well, this is madness! what have they done to the man?!
i suppose i will have no choice but to stay tuned and see if his mental state improves a bit with the return of the aliens...
i was really excited to start s2 and i took a lot of notes even for me LMAO some of which i cut out because it would take me forevvvver to capture all of my thoughts in even more detail than i have here but-
as the kids say: we are sooooooo back baby!!!!
#man i take like an hour watching the episode and then an hour making my notes coherent LMAO#when i get busy again this will be a lot harder but shh. few more days of relaxation <3#i could simply take less notes but what would the fun in that be?!#anyway!! s2 here we are!!!#lots of good moments here. lots to unpack moving forward. i am both comforted by their return and ill at ease... dun dun dun!#juni's x files liveblog#the x files#txf
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these stupid discord verification quizzes are gonna make me start killing I Swear To God
#daily stuff i guess#I answer the questions#and some random mod#decides I didnt answer it well enough#and I need to answer an entirely different question in the answer to that question#because Apparently I was supposed to know that somehow#“’can you expand your answer’#NO I CANT#FUCK YOU#I can tell they enjoy it#how are these supposed to ‘verify’ me#im clearly Not a bot or anything#and I have knowledge of the topic you’re asking me about#Why do I need to answer these questions in a fucking 10 paragraph essay#WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME#I AM A REAL PERSON#I AM NOT A TROLL#CANT YOU TELL BY THE FACT I DID ALL THE SHIT YOU ALREADY AKSED OF ME#good god man#I just wanna meet other people in the community#its a community about fuckin#acceptance and kindness and that shit#why are you doing this to me
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I think part of the reason people struggle with act 3 (other than the actual computer load) is because act 3 is very much Durge's act, so if you're not playing as Durge you miss a lot of the impetus to act. Seeking out Orin isn't just tracking down the macguffin, it's finding your old home and position, your sister and usurper all in one. Rivington isn't just an entryway to Baldur’s Gate and a review of the refugee crisis, it's the site of a major revelation about what you are, and Orin's taunts are gloats about what she did to you. The meeting with Gortash isn't just for plot, it's a dark mirror homecoming where you can't remember the home you're coming back to and where you learn exactly what sort of person you used to be and just how much of this situation is your fault. Act 3 is packed with thematic and emotional resonances for Durge, and full of people and locations that will help elucidate Durge's past. That's part of why Orin falls so flat on a Tav (or other origin) run - so much of her story is tied up with Durge's.
I'm not saying that act 3 isn't massive (it is) or that it doesn't drag at all when you're playing Durge (it does), but I think it drags significantly less and feels significantly less disconnected than it does for Tav. I think when the decision to split Tav and Durge was made Larian probably should have reviewed what the third act of the game would feel like from a non-involved character's point of view and made more changes to help better tie them to the main plot. Orin, for example, absolutely could have used way more development generally but especially on a Tav run the game really needed to give the character more connection to her. Her abducting a companion was likely an attempt at that, but there was nothing you could do about it and no time limit on rescuing them so it fell pretty flat.
#dark urge#bg3#Look this is entirely my own opinion and I could be completely wrong#But half the fun of act 3 for me was trying to piece together exactly who and what I was and corroborate things other people had told me#Idk you just come out of act 2 and it is so so clear that there is something WRONG with you but you don't know for sure what yet#And then act 3 comes out swinging with so many different answers to that question#Rivington probably needed some trimming though - the stuff to space ratio wasn't quite right I think#It's just in helsik who knows you and the notes that mention you and the whole Orin subplot that's about you#It's learning about gortash when he's your old buddy and you know that you condoned all of this#It's the book in your old bedroom talking about your first heist with gortash#Idk if I explained it we'll but a lot of the draw seems to come from your personal connection to events and without that it isn't nearly#As strong of a pull through the act
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the reason why i was offline for a day was bc i was in cas editing mattodore and messing with my cas bg, yeah, but also... i found another oc ask game that i liked the questions for so i started drafting theo and matthias's answers for them....... there's 100 questions this time so i've just been like this in google docs
#river dipping#when theo's doc inevitably ends up passing 5k.......... let's not mention it let's simply not mention it#i'm also in spotify playing the respective mattodore playlists while hopping between their answers#i think i've just been listening to their playlists and renaissance and amir and <copingmechanism> for the last month straight#my top tracks and artists of the month rn are definitely a testament to that.....#succession season four soundtrack “action that” is also on there tho <333333333 love you kendall roy <3333333#anyway i have no idea how long it's gonna take me to finish answering these questionnaires for the both of them#but i really enjoy doing this... i said before that i've reread their last 60 questions posts so much i've started to memorize them#and i can tell it's gonna be the same for these questionnaires when i finish them like i will be pouring over them like a man possessed#whenever i finish them (bc i AM planning to spend all of my free time on them after this) i'll share them with updated character pics#so i'll have to go in game for that. i'll need to update their character pages entirely honestly they've changed so much in the last month#like physically#well not matthias....... kjfdvnkdfgjh but theo looks SO... not different exactly but like... he's evolved.#also their last character page pics are ugly kjfkvjhnkjfgh no offense to past me for trying to be cute and edit differently but lmao.#i'll redo all of the echthroi character pics too so can't wait to have 500 new gshade screenshots of the eight ocs i have for it#jackson and everett are still missing in action but it's fine. Whatever. i don't even care 🙄#<- me trying to manipulate my brain using reverse psychology so that it finally pops out a solid image of what i want them to look like
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prior to going to rak’tika, ryne expresses nervousness over meeting shtola. and then the first thing shtola does is threaten you over being a sin eater (to which ryne says she’s even more intimidating than she imagined). and the second thing she does is go off on thancred in front of her for how he treats her. amazing first impressions lol
#i was imagining cori the entire walk there being like there’s no need to be afraid of shtola 🙂#and answering all of ryne’s questions about her#and then they get there.#agdhdj#i need a text post tag#it’s so funny to me still how prickly shtola gets immediately upon thancred being like ‘you adjusted well’#truly just hit him with ‘obviously. and obviously you have not.’#but imo it is good for ryne to see someone defend her#esp bc immediately she’s like ‘he knows i’m different.’ and shtola is like. no we expect better from him#and he better start acting that way!!#also a little while after this is the bees plan#and it’s cute to me how protective he is of shtola honestly !!#telling the wol if anything gets past me it’s up to you to protect her#look they love each other a lot and they can call each other out and have these fights and still be friends#emotional at 7:57 am about cori’s lil family. bye#shadowbringers spoilers
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The entire T8 story is on YT and I hyperventilated so hard you'd think it's not 30 something F right now but 55
#I AM SCRUBBING THROUGH THE ENTIRE THING TO SEE ASULILI FIRST BECAUSE I MUST#and i have to say so far...Ehghhhh like yes im happy to see them finally be portayed this way but at the cost of not having much to Do#in ways which surprised me with how quickly it moved or wasn't rly addressed so tbh I'm in between about this#NO ONE can take away the silly and cute shit they did from me though#Asuka being chill w Xiao & Panda though like they were in the pachislot 💖#AsuLili are also cool with Alisa- they got the pachislot gang together again instead of the comics w Leo at least they got friends#HOWEVER I WILL SAY I WAS VINDICATED A LIL- when the 'Why doesn't Asuka know Jun?' question was sorta answered#ALSO SORRY LARS FANS HE MADE ME LAUGH OUT LOUD IN THIS ONE- YOUR MAN IS SO GOOFY#needed to pause when i saw the motorcycles 🤣#Nina's VA is awesome in this too#**SPOILER**hmmm ok i think i know what's not sitting right w me: This is 100% The Jin Game at the expense to everyone elses character depth#if you like Jin then you'll most likely love this one if you like anyone else or are neutral on him you're sifting through scraps#and the scraps all come in different sizes- which kinda sucks HOWEVER now that this is out the way it does set up a T9 without this problem
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People like to make fun of YA worldbuilding tropes that sort teenagers into arbitrary categories based on arbitrary characteristics that nonetheless have a huge impact on the teenager's future.
This is not unrealistic however, because the german education system sorts 4th graders based on their "academic merit" as determinded by one of their elementary school teachers into one of three (sometimes four) further type of schools, which has a drastic impact on the likelihood of you even getting the qualification to attend university.
Yes, your entire academic career path is dependent on whether your elementary school teacher likes you or not. Don't worry, some states think that's bullshit too and instead make fourth graders sit entrance exams for the education level of their (parents') choice. (Although the teachers still get a say). That's why sometimes have news articles about the burn out rates of elementary schoolchildren in Bavaria.
But don't worry! Politicians love to complain about... to many people in recent years receiving the qualification to attend university...
#but don't worry! of course there's educational class mobility!#if your grades are good enough you too can give up your entire social life to attend a different school form#where a good chunk of the teacher's are convinced that your presence in their classroom is an indicator of the descent of the country#this works in both directions too! if your grades are bad enough the school can always send you to a different form#this is totally not discrimination because this is all to support the child's individual learning needs in an environment fit for them#<- unironic official reasoning for why this system still exists#some parties have adressed the inherent discrimination and added a fourth school form in some states to mix things up#(after a former fourth form was abolished - i think nationwide?)#or i guess you go to private school#secret fifth option#germany#just german things#educational system#ya#worldbuilding#politics#i love every time the question on why so few people from working class families attend university in germany crops up at uni#everyone answers financial feasability despite numerous opportunities for financial aid#and overlooks *because you filter their asses out in elementary school*
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ask 1 of 3 because I fully expect complicated to essays to this as you answer for practically all of your WoLs
8. How did they feel about the liberation of Ala Mhigo? Do they feel it could have been handled differently? Where they at all bothered by how they were involved?
{original question collection post - curious about anything else?}
Oh you are absolutely getting essays, especially with that intro and this question.
The matter of Ala Mhigo and its liberation is something that (un)surprisingly deviates from canon in the fact that all four of them deeply care about seeing it liberated. That resistance you see in canon is non-existent here in part because one of them is Ala Mhigan. You also get the eventual inclusion of W'khittri - another Ala Mhigan - but she's apart of the later groups.
(more below, as usual)
The liberation of Ala Mhigo was a fight they'd wanted to get in on since after becoming a team in ARR. Once they realized how well the four of them worked together and they shared similar goals, that's always been on the agenda. Seraphin is from the region and has family stuck in Little Ala Mhigo; Teodore employed Seraphin, sure, but he would see the nation liberated just from how he's seen its treatment at the hands of the Alliance; Gwendoline is effectively an underground chirurgeon that's been taking care of the medical needs of Ala Mhigan refugees who fled to Gridania yet were scorned by the nation, so she's got no delusions over what needs to be done; and while Surkukteni doesn't have many personal ties outside of Seraphin, she is the adoptive daughter of a war refugee (Kitase, a Doman) and would put herself into this for Seraphin's sake alone yet she has so many things pushing her towards this fight. They were planning on helping with the liberation effort after the Praetorium, but of course the Banquet.
The liberation of Ala Mhigo varies in how you get to the jump from Rhalgr's Reach to Kugane in this canon because the group has more political investment in this campaign than canon wol does (yes I'm still angry that "this isn't my fight" is an option to pick but not for Ishgard? the fight you were forced into?). This all started as far back as Surkukteni forging better ties between Little Ala Mhigo, the U Tribe, and the Amalj'aa groups - first the Brotherhood of Ash, and then slowly working with the tempered tribes. This was the backdrop of ARR for her as she helped them build up an alliance against the Immortal Flames and Ul'dah, which put them in a position to be in on Ilberd's plans since the four are significantly more involved earlier on. It means they have an easier time pulling him out of canon trajectory, they manage to keep him alive, and while he still does a lot of what canon dictates, his staying alive is to be a counter to how Raubahn just melded in with Ul'dahn politics (specifically the Syndicate?) while leaving Ala Mhigo by the wayside. Ilberd helps them integrate more with the Resistance, they spend a lot more time with the Ala Mhigans, and then Rhalgr's Reach falls and the party is now split.
Their main regrets are the fact they couldn't get to it sooner and so many people suffered as a result of it. The Dragonsong War was something they never intended on getting involved in, yet they got swept away in it and two of them came out of it really fucked up (Seraphin's left leg was mauled and struggles a bit with tanking, while Surkukteni nearly died against Nidhogg and lost a large chunk of her left side - both have limps, both struggle with their original jobs, and it sucks). They regret that they weren't as thorough that they could have been, but especially that they were put into a situation where they did have to split between Ala Mhigo and Doma - Surkukteni and Gwendoline went to Doma with most of the extra party members while Seraphin and Teodore stayed behind. Even though Seraphin wanted to stay, he still feels awful that he's not as useful as he could've been. Even though Surkukteni wanted to help Doma, she's still pissed that the cost of getting more military support for Ala Mhigo was the political freedom of her birthplace.
Surkukteni could've gone without Hien's involvement and the interference into the Steppe's rite of succession just to get more aid for Ala Mhigo, could've gone without getting further disabled by Zenos to where she effectively gave up on ever being a Dragoon again, could've gone without Papalymo's and Conrad's deaths, and really could've gone without the nasty attitude the Alliance took when she began to help the Resistance. Gwendoline - as someone who goes to Othard - shares many of Surkukteni's regrets.
Seraphin could have gone without some people (a fair number of the Scions, unfortunately) questioning his involvement and his commitment. He would've preferred if they could've dealt with it without having to bargain with other nations just to ensure that his parents could return home. He wishes they had, had a stronger front against Garlemald when Rhalgr's reach fell, and it makes him sick to his stomach that they weren't there sooner since so much of the physical home that his clan and his adoptive family used to live on is now just decimated by the Garlean's conquest. Teodore - similarly - shares a lot of these regrets.
The original WoLs wanted to be involved in Ala Mhigo's liberation and were building up rapport with both the Resistance and various factions impacted by Garlemald's campaign, but the Dragonsong War threw a wrench in all of that and caused so many problems within the group that required them to seek the aid of nations that wanted nothing to do with this conflict. They could only throw around their titles so much, and the only wish they had acted sooner and more efficiently - then maybe they wouldn't have lost so many people.
Bonus: mentioned the Amalj'aa here briefly, but this aspect is something that is a really major part of my rewrite. It's involving the tribes more into MSQ, and this aspect is how it doesn't really make much sense for the Ala Mhigan refugees to be automatically against any of the Eorzean Tribes considering how they are with the Ananta. While it's understandable that there are a great number of tempered factions, I don't feel like it's very fair for them to hold that same animosity that the nations do to even the non-tempered. Hence the arrangements struck between Little Ala Mhigo and the Brotherhood of Ash before it expanded to the three main groups of Southern Thanalan excluding anything associated with Ul'dah. This carries over to various Amalj'aa joining in the Resistance effort, wider ties with the Eorzean tribes, and eventually you see a fair number of people not aligned with the Eorzean Alliance working within Gyr Abania for the liberation of Ala Mhigo (so the energy we see in 5.4 and on but much earlier), and it's in part intentional to humiliate the Alliance into doing something. This is an entire thing that I can very easily ramble about, but basically just to summarize: the Grand Companies have to be coerced into fighting on the side of Ala Mhigo in canon, so the solution in the rewrite is to not rely on them and instead rely on bonds that the WoL group have formed over the course of their adventures - which means everything's gonna look a bit different.
Tl;dr: they weren't upset that they were involved; they were upset that they weren't involved sooner and only could do so with all this needless baggage.
#original#ffxiv#final fantasy xiv#mxkelsifer#asks#answered#answered wol question#answered wol questions#writing#also notably but unrelated but ishgard's own relationship to the adjacent tribes is entirely different and doesnt frankly need repair#because im geeenuiineellyyy sick of how the tribes are treated#it's the only major arr nation that doesnt really seem to care that much about the existence of the tribes and their interactions with#tribes like the vath and the vanu vanu imply they have a Very different relationship compared to the rest of aldenard#so im taking that and ala mhigo's attitude with the ananta and make them the fkn sane ones because Im Tired#also i really dont get how ishgard and gridania are the allies when rhalgr is halone's dad like come the fuck on#basically the grand companies needed persuasion. ishgard needed no persuasion#because Im Fucking Tired
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How do the SOD trio get away with explain time travel to the Riders? Do they explain it in full? Do they lie out of their asses? Does this help fuel Astrid's trust issues with Hyper?
Aha, so, funny thing about that...
Spoiler warning, not that you're going to head it lol
Astrid and Thyme's relationship basically starts with Astrid walking on Thyme reading her version of the Book of Dragons. She thinks Thyme is pulling a Heather and trying to steal their Book, and Hyper knows that Thyme has had that book forever and wouldn't try to steal anything. Insert Astrid and Hyper arguing with increasing intensity.
...Y'know, until Hiccup and Fishlegs walk in with their Book of Dragons, and then someone has some explaining to do.
#yes that's all you're getting#in part because I'm not 100% set on how it's playing out from there (I have the basics down though)#and in part because I can't just spoil the entire thing :P#uhh mostly the first one tbh#um but to answer your question yeah it spikes the hell out of trust issues on both sides#it doesn't help that prior to this Hyper thought they were thrown in a different universe and not time travelled#and Thyme wasn't 100% solid in the time travel thing until that point#and hell no is Techie just going to *admit* she's known what was going on the entire time#she doesn't need Hyper thinking into it too much#hehe#sod trio#wtdh hyper#wtdh thyme#wtdh Astrid#wounds time doesn't heal
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hmmm something about certain magics being weak/strong against other certain magics... i'm thinking about it bc of asks concerning cyrillo and kaiya. vampires do have above average healing and resilience in comparison to mortals -- they're hard to kill bc they're undead and essentially feeding off inherent magic in mortal blood to remain animated. but bc they're undead and necrotic in nature, that means holy magic would be strong against them and inhibit their healing. blessed weaponry would tear them a new one.
and that's leading me down a hole of " oh well, i gotta explore other resistances and weaknesses between magic users and magical beings/creatures as well then " but that's not my plan for tonight asdfg
#sorry if this isn't entirely coherent/making sense but the brain cells are working tonight it looks like and i need them to not concentrate#on lore when i'm trying to write :' ))#at one point i need to compile a list of questions to answer about magic and other aspects of the world#like i really wanna point out how the grand city loves to use the word ' grand ' in titles -- like cyrillo being the ' grand vampire '#if you're a ' grand ' something then you're the highest ranking person of that organization#but other countries might have different ranking systems#the grand city just tends to use important and over the top words and descriptions#probably the snootiest city you're gonna find in dorverold if i'm honest#it's a melting pot but it's a rich melting pot of people#ANYWAY I SAID NO LORE TONIGHT...... for now.....#headcanons | dórverold
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Ok I'm curious, could you elaborate on art school education when you have the time?
Mainly because my friend went to art high school and feels she wasted all the years there while I've been self-teaching myself for a few months by just messing around, so I was wondering just how different the two approaches are :0
Oh, I have lots and lots of thoughts on art education. I do feel that I need to preface this with the whole "my experience is not universal", bc all my feelings about art and art education stem from my own experiences of being self-taught and then getting actual formal college degrees in art.
The shortest version of my long rant, under the cut, is that there isn't a superior way to learn art. With art education, you run the risk of getting bad teachers who don't teach the subject well, and you can also run into teachers who aren't open-minded about approaches to art that differ too much from their own--the flipside, of course, is that there are sometimes amazing teachers who can challenge you to try new things you'd never had thought of on your own, or who have already made a lot of mistakes that they can tell you about so you don't have to make them yourself. With being self-taught, you have to figure out everything on your own, and sifting through online tutorials or reading books can be difficult to find "actually useful and well-explained" advice, but you do also get the freedom of doing literally whatever you want and really focusing what you learn based on what you're actually interested in. Each has it's pros and cons, but neither is technically better or worse, per se, although education of any sort comes down a lot to each person's situation in life, as not everyone has access to education or even the tools for making art.
For the long, long expansion of my thoughts and some of my personal experiences with art education specifically...
In short, I'm technically entirely self-taught, despite holding two different art degrees. Aside from some feedback I got from my 8th grade art teacher (who had agreed to look at my hobby art in her own spare time outside of class), I basically taught myself to draw entirely on my own, using various "how to draw" books, online tutorials, and just a lot of general experimentation and continued drawing on my own. Which meant I made a lot of mistakes, or didn't try out certain things, or got frustrated bc I couldn't figure out how to do something, but overall I had a lot of fun. The actual art classes I took in middle and high school? Well, I took a life drawing class in high school that taught me how to draw from life, a skill I never would have acquired on my own bc the process for learning that skill requires a lot of patience, and personally, I find life drawing to be extremely boring. My high school art teacher was also allowing blatant copyright infringements to occur in her class, which was something I learned years later when taking a media law class in college to learn about copyright law specifically, so I guess I learned what to not do as a teacher if I manage to become one, but I didn't learn a whole lot of actual art skills or even really improve my art in any significant way. I never actually learned anything like the elements of art and how to use them, or color theory, or any of that, in class or even on my own, but because I was constantly looking at lots of art online, and making art on my own and experimenting with new things, I ended up learning all of the "essentials of art" intuitively, sort of like how children learn the grammar of whichever language(s) they grow up speaking without learning the actual formal grammar of the language. Which I think a lot of artists actually do as they continue to make art, even if they don't realize it.
Anyhow, moving on. I personally really enjoyed my undergrad illustration degree. Now, to be fair, if someone was willing to pay me to attend college for the rest of my life as my actual career, that is what I would do bc I love learning, and I love the challenge presented by college courses. But do I feel like I learned anything new about art in those classes? Yes and no. I took a lot of art history classes bc I had never had any art history before college, and found I loved the topic a lot. The life drawing classes I was required to take felt like a waste of time bc I already had that skill from the one high school class, and I spent most of those classes fighting the teachers about why we should have less nude models (bc nudes are super easy to draw from life, but clothing is very, very difficult, and I wanted to learn how to draw clothing as a challenge bc I was bored in those classes). I spent one class teaching the entire class how to use Photoshop bc the teacher's method was absolute BS and I could do everything faster and easier than what we were being taught bc I had been using the program for years (the teacher even joked about how I had hijacked the class, to which I'm still not sure was meant to be friendly or malicious). The "Anatomy for the Artist" class I took was one of the most useful classes I've ever taken, and really helped me with drawing not only humans, but anything with a skeleton and muscles, since the teacher's approach made it so I learned the skill of using actual real-life anatomy as a means of creating art from the knowledge of anatomy (and I lucked out for this class bc I had an adjunct who was there to cover the actual teacher who was on sabbatical, and from what I heard from classmates I would have learned nothing from the usual teacher's approach to the class; I hope the teacher I did have found a good stable job bc she was amazing). Most of the actual core illustration classes helped me improve my art a great deal, but not bc they taught me anything--more so, it was that I had to create a lot of art for them, and find creative solutions to the challenges the projects would present (there were lots of "illustrate this abstract concept without using x, y, or z imagery" or "create an illustration within these specific parameters" which really required me to think about how to plan and go about completing the final project). Somehow, the actual "foundations classes" that I took--where I was supposed to learn things like design theory, the elements and principles of art, color theory, etc.--well, let's just say the teacher was on his way to retirement, and didn't teach any of that really well, so I still ended up going through my undergrad more or less on intuition and the art skills I had cultivated on my own. Mostly, college art classes were useful in helping me to improve my art, not because I learned new things (although I did learn some new things), but rather because I needed to make lots and lots of art in a relatively short time, and making art constantly is the fastest way to improve.
That all said, I still never really got the point of things that I kept seeing or hearing as common art advice. For example: "Use references." Okay? What does that mean? What does that look like? How do I do that? I was never taught that once, and it was only partway through college that I figured out that people meant "look at a photo of a real person to figure out a pose or something" and not "learn about the subject you're trying to draw so you have an understanding of that subject that allows you to draw it from your imagination how you want". And honestly the former advice is useful but...only useful to a point, so I'm kinda glad I never learned it bc it would have stunted my development and presented a roadblock. In either case, I was never taught how to use a ref or what "use a ref" meant in my formal art education, and by the time I figured it out on my own, my repertoire of art skills made the advice moot.
So what's all the long and short of this? Is art education a sham and useless? Well, not entirely, but maybe sort of. It really comes down to which teachers are teaching the subject, and how they do it. I only had a handful of art teachers who were really able to get me to think about art differently and push me to learn more and improve. But I also had a friend in my undergrad class who had never drawn in his life and he found most of the classes super useful bc he wasn't coming in being self-taught and already drawing. We were at different places in our art journeys, and so we got different things out of the college classes.
I do feel overall that the focus of my college classes was more productive than the lack of focus from my high school classes. Would I tell everyone who wants to get better at art to go to art school? Hell no. I got a degree in art because I love it, and because I had hoped to work as a video game concept artist (for which one does need at least a BFA to get hired by most companies). Of course, by the end of my degree I had figured out the video game industry in America was absolutely not a place I wanted to be working for my own health, but my frustrations with how my art education had been structured, paired with the fact that I spent a few classes actually teaching my classmates things, made me think I might make an okay art teacher. But even my wanting to be an art teacher still comes from a place of deep love for art. For those who just want to take up art as a hobby, self-taught is fine, and sometimes it will be better than getting stuck with a bad teacher who'll crush the enjoyment of art. Yes, I think a well-structured art course could help someone learn art and become confident in their art, which is part of the reason I want to try teaching it (esp. bc it took me years to learn some things that a good teacher would have just like, covered in a core class), but like...self-taught or school-taught, there isn't a superior way to learn art. They're both just very different approaches.
#I think I got a bit off-topic from your question at the end there so uh...sorry if this doesn't really help answer your question#I maybe should have slept on this before answering but also I'm like#really really passionate about art and Will Not Shut Up About Literally Anything Art-Related#a few of my coworkers have been subjected to hour-long rants about art bc they asked me one (1) thing#anyhow I think art education CAN be good it's just...like any education it really relies on good teachers and a good curriculum#and yet being self-taught I know it's entirely possible to learn all the basics needed for making art on your own so#like#yeah#I dunno#anyhow#I love art a whole lot and I do not regret going to college and getting two different types of art degrees#no matter how useless certain members of my family think they are#(to be fair graduating in the middle of a pandemic was not in my future plans)#anyhow if you want to just mess around making art and having fun that is honestly one of the best ways to learn art#actually just messing around and having fun is the best way to learn most things#so...yeah!#unsuspecting-person#I still don't have an ask tag
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