#all jap day

[vi0letflames]

[darabeatha]

/ All I know is;; Daybit Sem Void supremacy 😳

[garciapimienta]

I feel literally sick

[mintyvoid]

I just checked out the new hobonichi line up for 2024 and damn. I only started getting into getting one last year. Got the green weeks and the yuka hiiragi clear case for said weeks planner. Honestly a really good combo.

Theres a seahorse design aaaaaa, i liked the embroidery designs from last year but felt they were kinda meh in some ways. The bunnies one felt too dark, like the colours used werent contrast-y enough tho i cant say how it looked in person. And while i loveeed the cafe one i wish it had only sweets on it instead lf various cafe foods.

But if i get the seahorse one for next year..i suppose i could just not use a case. Or maybe get the normal clear one... i dont really like the colours they chose for the plain ones. Or wait i could do navy. Thatd make the case i have really pop.

Choices choices...

[leviismybby]

How the aot veterans notice that you and Levi are secretly an item...

Erwin

Let's be honest, he knew it even before you two got together. Erwin is a very observing man, hardly anything that is going on in the headquarters can get past him. The first time he noticed that something was up was when Levi started to butt in while he was doing the plans for expeditions, always sneakily trying to put you in the safest position possible. It was always "Name isn't skilled enough to be here" or "She would do better if you put her over here". Another thing he noticed is that you two started to attend meetings late with some lame excuse, he just dismissed it but enjoyed how much you both struggled to keep the act up.

However one day you two don't show up to work at all, spending all day having "fun" in Levi's room and the excuses Erwin heard the next almost made him laugh. "And where were you two?" He asked as you and Levi entered his office, his eyebrow raised. "We were busy." Levi says but he knows that it's not enough. "I was giving her private training all day yesterday." Erwin nods, not believing a single word. "Is that so? And why didn't you inform me about this?" Levi scoffs, he knows he shouldn't lie to Erwin but he can't just say that you two were fucking like rabbits the whole day yesterday. "I thought that it wasn't important." Erwin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose at Levi's words. "For Ymir's sake just say that you two were having sex and stop with this nonsense." Your mouth drops right open at the commander's words, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks meanwhile Levi scoffs at Erwin. Guess he did not have to lie to his superior officer anymore, the cat was out of the bag anyway.

Hange

It was their number-one entertainment besides spending the whole day doing titan research. They noticed it mostly because of Levi and how his behavior would change around you. Little things like, how often he sat next to you, how close the two of you would stand to each other anytime you were next to one another. One of the biggest giveaways was Levi's hand on your lower back which suggested that the two of you were already intimate with one another. They saw you once brush a fur off his uniform jacket, that was where Hange got their confirmation. For the next few weeks, they noticed even more, on one occasion, you had your hand resting on his thigh while you two were sitting down. It took everything in them not to bug you or Levi about it that is, until they saw love bites on your neck, they couldn't help but look at your neck and that's when they had to say something. "Damn name. Someone is getting it good huh?" You start to cough at their words and Levi looks up from his tea. "What are you talking about?" Hange snickers. "Your neck, Levi isn't going easy on you is he?" "Shut the fuck up four-eyes."

Miche

He is the one who keeps his nose out of everyone's business but even he couldn't help but feel intrigued when he noticed that Levi had your scent on him one morning. "Hmm.." He would hum, finding it strange just how strong your smell on Levi was. So he waited to see if you would smell like Levi too and he got his opportunity when you sat next to him in the mass hall at dinner. He side-eyes you, you indeed had Levi's cologne on you. "Mhh..." He hums again and looks between you and Levi. "So do you two use the same shampoo and soap or?" Miche asks, looking at your reactions. "What are you japping about?" Levi asks, already annoyed that Miche is asking such a thing. "Don't play me for a fool. You two smell like each other. Why is that?" You and Levi stay quiet and the silence is enough for Miche. "Ah, I see..." He can't help but nod in approval. "Well good luck. At least know we know where Levi is taking his stress out."

Nanaba

Now....she downright catches you two making out and it was by pure accident. She borrowed a shirt from you and wanted to return it so you told her to just bring it to your room when she had the time. Bad idea. Levi was sitting on your bed, you on his lap as you kissed passionately. His hands were rubbing your back under your shirt, you moaned softly against his lips. Levi's hands move to your hips and he grinds you on top of him, you get the message, and just as you are about to pull your shirt over your head when. "Name here is your shirt back- oh..." Nanaba stood in the doorway, her eyes going wide as she saw the position you two were in. It took a few seconds to register what happened but Levi spoke before you. "Fucking...fuck off. Can't you see we are busy?" He says, his voice harsh, his hands still on your hips. Nanaba chuckles. "Alright, alright, keep on....yeah. And use protection" "Out!" Levi yells and Nanaba smiles before closing the door behind her. "....I forgot to lock the door..." You try not to laugh at the situation when you see Levi's annoyed face. "Whatever. Now let's get back to what we were starting." You smile as he resumes kissing you.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: yes…Virgin!Gale + Maureen/Gale bonding

Universe: Friends in the Crucible (pacific au)

Summary: “Get laid, Buck.” Doc Egan prescribed with his peculiar brand of deathly serious compassion, “Hell, I’ll write you a prescription for it, if it soothes your conscience, but I’m serious. Serve your jitters better than any syrette or Amphetamine.”

Warnings: all the sex! 18+.|| both tender and feral || Doc Egan being a unorthodox but loving menace, a theme of ptsd and body tremors/insomnia -poor Gale is going through it after a whole war, drug mentions, erectile disfunction, Maureen is aggressive but everything’s consensual, usage of the word “Jap”. Graphic descriptions of Gale’s virginity loss, male overstimulation and an amusing amount of thought given to Bucky’s existence during the act … im sure that won’t lead to anything when Maureen returns to base and reports to Egan about it, right? Hahaha of course not, that would be craaazy

Word count: 10k

“Buck, come on now, it’s not a prison sentence, it’s just a little time off.”

“I don’t need time off.” Gale reiterated, a panicked sort of fierceness creeping into his tone as his appeal now stretched into something longer than the usual flippant favors Egan was customarily so eager to dole out.

“Those hands suggest ya do.” John gave a not unkind glance of sympathy at the twitching fingers rattling on the armrests of Cleven’s chair.

12 rescue missions in 15 days. Flying upwards of ten hours each. He’d done worse before, but then again, that had been when he was fresh, younger, less banged up from the head hitting the cockpit wall.

“Sending me to go watch flamingos and contemplate sand or some shit isn’t gonna make me steadier.” Gale very much feared his gripes were beginning to sound like begs, “Don’t send me off like this. Don’t.”

“Petrified of flamingos?” John hummed, glancing down at his chart as if contemplating making a note of this new malady, “Maybe if your dad had taken you to a zoo once or twice as a kid you’d not be scared stiff of the prospect.”

Cleven stared back at him with the most hurt eyes John had ever seen. He balled his own fist up to remember the rightness of his point, even if he’d delivered it about as clumsily as a marriage proposal at a funeral. “The hell would you say something like that?” Buck whispered, not even angry, just utterly lost.

“Buck, I’m just sayin’ -inability to slow or be alone, it’s classic symptoms of battle fatigue.”

“I don’t wanna sit on a beach when I could be helping, I’m perfectly capable of still helping! You know it!”

“But you can’t sleep.” John circled back to where this all began, with Gale asking if there was anything to knock a fella out when 82 hours of insomnia wasn’t sufficiently exhausting.

“Give me something, you’re a doctor! Goddamnit, John!” Gale finally broke, voice raising and fists clenched.

“Surgeon, technically.” John gave him a wane smile, “And I can’t dope up an active pilot.”

“Just an active surgeon.” Gale sneered, tit for tat on the insults.

John nodded grimly but murmured, “The day Gale Cleven becomes John Egan is a day this whole operation can pack up and go home.”

“So you're being the better man,” Gale scoffed, “-sending me to watch flamingos.”

“I’m not givin’ you shit.“ he confirmed, “Unless it’s an assignment.”

“Will it keep me outta the flak asylum?”

“If you comply to all the regulations, maybe.” Egan shrugged.

“Go on?”

“Get laid, Buck.” his friend prescribed with his peculiar brand of deathly serious compassion, “Hell, I’ll write you a prescription for it, if it soothes your conscience, but I’m serious. Serve you better than any syrette or Amphetamine.”

“That’s your ultimatum?”

“No, no, my ultimatum is that you go on a little sabbatical with one of my nurses, she’ll keep an eye on you and you can make yourself useful, helping her unload heavy shit at the aid station they’re setting up at Peleliu. My recommendation is that when she comes into your room at the end of the day and drops her knickers, you lay back and think of Wyoming.”

Major Cleven had thought of a million and one ways to bribe or ally the prospective nurse to his side of the deal once he knew which unfortunate female Egan was going to pick for this deplorable detail. Calling his friend a pimp and a bastard had done little good, threatening malpractice and a hardness of heart towards Gale’s own principles -even less. So Gale figured when the time came he’d just gently turn the well meaning comfort gal away and maybe pay her off to lie that they’d done it: for his hand’s sake.

After all, if she was willing to do this, was she even a nurse or was she someone Bucky dressed up in Red Cross arm bands like some sleazy fantasy? Gale didn’t think any of the nurses he’d encountered would be willing to go along with such a sordid “assignment.” Sure, some of them were -carefree. Indulgent. Easy, as the men sometimes called them before getting a stinging cheek that proved them wrong. But they were a proud bunch and they had earned it.

Rolling a toothpick in his cheek, Buck pondered these things while sat on the bench of a Goony Bird waiting for his nurse to hop into the cargo hold with him and off they’d go to Pelilu. The situation was made worse by the suspense of who it might be and the insulting foreignness of being on a plane but not piloting. It made Gale feel an odd sort of feeling close to self pity that he hadn’t felt in ages, not since he was a kid and the nostalgia of it wrung him out of all energy. He made himself sit on that metal bench motionless as the heat index rose on the tarmac and made up a fun little game involving trying to see if he could get his hands to stop tremoring for five seconds straight.

So far he’d lost his own wager each time. He told himself if he could make it to five seconds then the nurse Bucky had sent would be a gray haired matron and this really was just a sabbatical to lift boxes and breathe ocean air and get Gale to laugh at himself.

Then Maureen Kendeigh climbed into the hold and squeezed past their cargo of medicine crates and plopped down right next to him, leg bumping his and breathing like a race horse. “I have jogged here the entire way from administration.” she wheezed, tugging at the collar of her shirt where her glistening throat was bobbing in thirst. “Sorry I’m so late, Major. Am I late?”

It could have been Bucky sat next to him: the choice of phrasing was so familiar, the damnable ability to force forgiveness for tardiness with a single smile so predictable. Gale found dread knotting his stomach at the realization it would be her, even as a warmth spread all over him at her sweet presence that had the odd effect of steadying his hands despite the panicked fuzz of his brain at her proximity.

Oh he didn’t want this. No, no, no. He’d like to think of Maureen very much apart, apart from anything but her heroism, not her wide spread stance on the bench beside him or the idea of her dropping her knickers and making him think of Wyoming. He preferred her very much not attainable in the deeper ways and very much not what he saw himself with when all this was over. Whatever she and Doc Egan had was between them and he’d held it up like a shield to keep himself in check, a boy's code of honor about not encroaching on his friend’s girl. Even if said friend didn’t have the decency to make said girl “his” girl.

But to have Maureen dished up to him on a platter by John when John must have suspected some of Gale’s appreciation for her professional merits -it was somehow worse than any dressed up floozy or the easy new intern. He’d not be able to pay Maureen off without insulting her. Or outing Egan’s intent. Maybe she didn’t know. What if Gale spilled the beans and she was as harmless as himself? What if—

“God, Major, did you sleep at all?” Maureen’s steady fingers were gripping his expressionless face and suddenly turned him towards her, one thumb swiping a tender crescent in his under eyes.

Gale’s eyes seemed to forget blinking was a thing, they grew wide and stayed wide at her inspection and the sandy wind blowing in from the tarmac stung at them as they dried out. “No,” he found his voice and it came out more winded than hers, “you’re not late.” he lied.

Once they get to the island, touchdown and unload, there’s then three hours of driving around the pitted old warzone to the aid station. There’s more foliage the more they go, less mortar pitted earth, but the increasing tropical paradise surroundings put Gale on edge. Maureen drives them to their unexplored destination as confident and recklessly as Bucky would, little surprise there. Gale can’t help glancing at her with unabashed amusement for the way she keeps her pistol propped on top of the steering wheel with one grip, facing out like a top turret for their hood, while keeping the map balanced on her thigh.

He cradles his own BAR with loose arms, ready to use it. Sure they secured the island months ago, but still, not infrequently some Jap comes out of his hiding hole, a cave, or whatever fucking tree he resides in and surrenders. Or, conversely, some of them have charged with guns blazing or sword drawn, deciding to go out and a bang of glory and take with them whichever hapless American happens to be nearby. That Emperor worship shit ain’t happening on on Gale’s watch, and so Maureen gets to drive -she didn’t have to beg like that, he was going to let her- and he shoulders the duty of keeping his eyes peeled for the next bush becoming animate and running at them, pulled pin grenade in hand.

“Some relaxation.” he jokes as their jeep lurches into another crater. If it’s not the bomb pits it’s the massive roots crawling over the smashed earth the Marine Corps call a road.

“It’s a reverse strategy!” she informs, grin wide as a shark’s and Gale could almost draw a little pencil mustache above that top lip and pretend it’s Bucky torturing him thus -hey, that might be a good mode of thought to keep everything strictly professional- “Like when nothing else works, you kick the broken thing.” Gale politely ignores the urge to argue about being broken, that’s not her point… he hopes, “You’re all shook up,” she goes on, voice raised to be heard over the rev of her driving, “and calm hasn’t worked, so why not shake you up worse?!”

He squints at her, fully aware he isn’t being chummy like she is trying to be, knowing he’s being a stick in the mud but he’s dying under the uncertainty, chafing under the pretense. Does she know? Or does she not? Five times today he’s resisted the urge to slap her chest like he would Demarco’s and ask her levelly, man to man, if she knows. “If this doesn’t work then what?” he asks anyway, sober as hell despite the comedic jostling and even Maureen’s joviality dims in the face of his dour mood.

“Then we’ll have to get real unorthodox.” she replies, allowing something close to annoyance at his attitude to seep into her own expression and Gale refuses to pull his eyes off her.

Do you know? He wants to ask.

“Stop scowling at me and watch for Japs.” she snaps at him so suddenly and so heated he genuinely spooks and turns his body back towards their horizon.

It’s worse than he thought. Worse than he imagined on the times he lost the bet with his hands and let his mind go somewhere besides a practical joke from Bucky and a gray haired spinster nurse as his companion. The aid station is on the edge of the new camp, far off enough to be genuinely secluded from both sights and smells of the navy station. It’s a tiki hut, thatched roof and swinging mesh door and lovely little veranda and palm trees and waves lapping up the back steps.

It looks like the sorta place people advertise for honeymoons and Gale stares at it with a 100 yard stare once Maureen grinds the gears to park.

“Jesus.” he knows his mouth is curling in disgust and beside him Maureen huffs in disgust with him.

She jumps out of her side of the jeep, not a shred of amusement left on her face. Gale sits and stares and listens to the roar of surf and the clinking of the cooling engine.

“Not bad.” she grunts under the burden of a crate which Gale should be lifting if he could just make his legs work and his mind obey. “But I bet it’s gonna be a bitch to keep the gnats out though, so much foliage around.”

Her hips sway like a tantalizing pendulum when she jogs up the bungalow stairs, her waist somehow accentuated by the way her arms are lifted to keep the crate hoisted on her strong shoulder and Gale has the perfect seat to watch it. How did he never notice the lines on her before she was doing hard labor? Then he recalls, she’s mostly been in flight suits around him, he’s never seen her paired down to collared shirts and belted pants. How’d he never notice the lines on that gi-

“Don’t make me drive this thing in the surf to wake you up.” her slap on his listless forearm rouses him to realize she’s back out at the jeep, standing beside him looking at him as he sits here catatonic like the mental case he’s showing symptoms of being. “And take your jacket off, you’re gonna get overheated being so formal.”

“Are you in on it?” he snaps suddenly as she grins at him over his first crate. He can’t tell if she’s mocking him or not but he’s damn tired of it.

“In on what?” Her face falls.

He can’t do it. He just can’t do it and he hates himself for being such a coward. “This.” he chooses vagueness and it tastes foreign and awful on his tongue.

“It’s a week out of the cockpit in paradise, Cleven,” Maureen’s own expression holds back no disdain for his pissy attitude, “man the hell up.”

What Maureen, Gale and five other technicians had loaded into the jeep and it’s buggy in the course of two hours, takes the mere two of them close to four to unload. And that’s even with Gale keeping a rapid pace to his work like a sweating maniac, feverishly wanting to stop thinking for once. His jacket and shirt are thrown over the chairs that are actually provided as furniture in the place and Maureen’s tie lays discarded on the accompanying desk. The rooms are bare but there’s two beds in the bedroom with crisp sheets that have only a bit of pollen dusting them and there’s a desk, as mentioned, three chairs in the main room and Maureen insists they can use crates for a table.

The back room is for the actual medical aid, and Maureen insists nothing gets moved into it until she can sanitize the whole place. So they stack the boxes in the main room and in the bedroom and when the sun gets lower they’re relieved to find there’s some dubious provisions for electricity in the place.

“I can get it to work.” Gale decides as Maureen tries flicking the light switch ten times as if to see if the bare bulb will grow a will of its own and turn on for her. It reminds him so much of Bucky’s brand of idiocy that Gale almost forgets himself and reaches out to swat her hand away from the futile flicking.

“Ok, then you do that while I keep unloading.” she insists, “Won’t be able to do anything if it’s pitch dark in here.”

So Gale drags a chair over and begins to fiddle with the wires tacked to the ceiling, risking electrocution so Maureen Kendeigh can see her way around as she tromps past him again and again in the same path with yet another crate.

He’s good with his hands. Excellent, in fact, judging by how one bulb flickers then stays steady, then another and another until the inside of the bungalow is aglow with cozy light: enough light for Maureen to appreciate his sweat soaked singlet and the way it rides up his belly when his arms are up and how it’s bright enough for her to scrub the exam room effectively when laying in a room with an insomniatic Gale Cleven gets to her at 3:00 am.

As it surely will. God! -the man is as impossible as he is beautiful, and while she doubted she’d manage it with him before, the sheer amount of fury she feels towards him right now leaves no doubt. She’ll shake him up. Like a Fuckin’ Martini. And he doesn’t have to like it, probably won’t, but they’ll both feel better after. “In on it” -he’s got the gall to ask but not the balls to spell it out, she can’t abide a quasi gentleman and so far Gale Cleven’s been nothing but the genuine article. Until now, now when he can’t accept certain human things about himself like fatigue or attraction, and he takes it out on her with a sullenness belonging to a much older man.

Maureen’s fine with that, she thinks as ogles the glowing golden skin of his sheened shoulders on one of her passes with a crate, she can take her mad out on him, too. And she’s got a lot of it. More than John Egan was ever able to lick away.

By 15:00, and some change to the second hand, Gale Cleven was still awake. Little surprise there, not to him, but even though it didn’t matter he found himself thoroughly annoyed and taking it out with a lethal glare at the vague gray ceiling, lit by a massive moon over the ocean. Wire and chairs but no curtains -an oversight about the furnishings. It wouldn’t have mattered, he knew that, and still the racket Maureen was making put his teeth on edge. It wasn’t Benny’s snoring or John’s drunken mumbling but it was a consistent *swoosh, swish* of industry that had Gale feeling a mixture of guilt and determination to keep lying here while she scrubbed.

It had not occurred to him she might’ve needed this break, too. Such as it was, effective as it was not proving. He knew she’d seen some combat in the beginning at Manila, maybe even worse than Iwo but long hours doing what she was doing now, where she was doing it, was no joke.

The urge to get up and help her was strong but then, so was the crippling fear of being around her in the dead of night and inviting any more of the bossy familiarity she’d tucked him into bed with. A magnesium capsule! She’d made him take three of the maternity horse pills and told him to calm the hell down as if he didn't have ample reason to be on edge with her laying a foot away on another bed, stripped down to her cotton slip. Of course Gale would cite war horrors if anyone asked why he couldn’t sleep but to be frank, he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t managing it these days and it had started awhile ago. Before Maureen Kendeigh glowed sweaty and luminous in the moonlight while gripping his cheeks and puckering his protesting mouth and plopping pills on his lolling tongue.

Thinking of it made his face flame with embarrassment for such a childish resistance. But god, her nursley familiarity sent a cross signal to his brain each time she helped herself to his flesh and no amount of berating himself while sweating in these rough sheets could dislodge the reaction. Closer to fifteen hundred than was remotely chivalrous, Gale threw off his sweat soaked bedding and tromped into the glow of light outside their bedroom, shuffling blearily into the little exam room. He faltered for a brief ten seconds at the doorway watching her undulating movements with sponge in hand and knees on the floor, white slip clinging like a second skin from the sweat.

He felt the sudden medical urge to lick her like the cattle back home lick at the salt block, a strange way of quenching thirst. Was ninety two hours without sleep considered genuine grounds for insanity? He felt like maybe he should be keeping a diary of these fevered thoughts to report back to John and see if he needed to get turned in. This wasn’t horniness, this was salt cravings. Yeah, yeah that’s what it was.

“You hypocrite.” he felt emboldened to tease and his voice came out rough and lower than even he expected, the disuse of laying there for ages taking a toll.

Maureen looked up like she’d been spooked herself, a slip and stall of her scrubbing, hair hanging about her face so unprofessionally he realized he’d never seen it in such…disarray. “Oh, the baby’s awake.” she grinned back and he felt an indulgence settle in his gut for her he didn’t know existed, “I see my magnesium capsules were a cure all.”

“Oh yeah, knock a horse out.” he agreed derisively.

“Your eyes are droopier.” she found a silver lining and as if reminded of the grit in them, his large fists came up and rubbed them meanly.

Like a little boy, she thought, watching him in the harsh light of the bare bulb, warm wood all around him the same color as all that sweaty skin and those skivvies hanging onto the lithest set of hips she may have ever seen. Looked as if one deep breath of that lean belly and the fabric would be goners, slipping down to the floor dramatically like a woman’s pantyhose in those unfortunate comics where that’s always occurring just when she wants to cross a busy street. Maybe if she could make him belly laugh-

She wished she knew how. She wondered if he knew how.

“Got another Sponge?” he asked and she was reminded why she liked him so much.

“Top crate, there, left, there that one.” She directed him with jerks of her chin until he was at the right one, “I’m using antiseptic.” she warned.

“I know,” he answered, dropping to his knees beside her and making use of her bucket to dunk his sponge, “smell’s been givin’ me a headache.”

Maureen’s mouth twitched at his tired grumpiness, more endearing now he was still putting effort into being near the caustic shit and the way his golden hair flopped on his forehead with his scrubbing movements. If his hips were that fluid, that rhythmic in cleaning a floor, how much more could she teach him to be—“Yeah, I’m sure it’s the anti-septic giving you a headache.” she snarked.

They ate sandwiches he’d gotten from the navy camp’s mess on the back porch, letting the sea water lap at their feet. A little stale but it was a much needed breakfast and Gale brought fresh water back, too, and a report that they were nice fellas and entirely too undressed for her to ever go see. That suited her fine, they’d be a pest if they knew a woman was up here and personally speaking she only needed one man for company, crate lifting, and doing the job well. And she rather had her heart set on it being Gale Cleven. Especially now she got to stare at him under the bright morning sun with a tropical breeze and more skin on display than at a swimsuit contest. He’d put on a singlet, as if to mark that a day had begun even if they hadn’t slept the night, but that was promptly sweat soaked and tiny nipples were pebbling under it from the breeze.

“Did they ask if a nurse came with you?” she pressed him between bites.

“Yeah.” he swallowed his bite thickly and licked at the mayo collecting at the corner of his mouth with typical precision, “And I lied.”

“Well, well,” she cooed, making him roll his eyes, “how’d that feel?”

“I have lied before.” he balked.

The look he gave her was both thunderous and remincent and she repented that line of questioning, used to distinguishing in her patients whether a wound was from wartime or stemmed from childhood. “Well who’d you say came with?” she asked.

“A technician.” he mumbled, blushing for some reason.

“Mm, someone nice and hairy and stinky-“

“Stop.” he begged.

“-not anyone they’d wanna meet.”

“I did it for you!”

“-if that makes you sleep at night, Cleven.” she humored him and like lightning, the back of his hand had flicked out and thumped her on the sternum, hard.

“Shit!” Maureen clutched the place, more in surprise than pain although he’d walloped her good and well.

“Shit!” He parroted in mortification, holding his hand like it was an offensive weapon.

“What was that for?” she laughed, “Do I remind you that much of Benny? Are you missing him that bad? Is that who you pretended was with you up here? Huh? Huh? Benny Demarco, now that’s a beauty to hide under a bushel-“

She was crowding him in on the steps and he was teetering towards falling off, too alarmed at his own outburst to trust his instincts now to shove her off without causing harm -and she knew it. She pressed her advantage and crawled over him with her teasing comments about Demarco until his long body had bowed so far away from her’s it was levitating and then toppled predictably into the surf.

“Fuck it’s cold!” he wheezed out as the embrace of the old pacific drenched him and rolled him about at her feet for a few delightful moments before he got his footing and rose, shaking his hair out of his eyes and grabbing for the steps.

“Sea bathing was in doctor Egan’s regimen.” she informed remorselessly before extending a merciful hand to help him up. He was slippery and shiny as an eel coming up and the grip of his hand was as strong as she expected. And still she found it intoxicating, the duality of him as he stood there pouting and bitchy over being cooled off. “Stay right there baby, I’ll get you a towel.” she patted his chest, right where he’d smacked hers, and went inside.

“I’m not your baby.” She heard him holler to her through the door-less porch. “I’m not your baby.” he reiterated vehemently but lower again when she came out with the towel.

“Yes you are.” she argued, “For this week you’re my baby, whether that’s a literal infant or not is your choice -and don’t start arguing, you’ve got to stop it, no one’s making you do a damn thing.” she insisted, hand raised and his mouth closed satisfyingly as a result, “You’ll be my baby. I know you already had a baby, no? Our baby? Shared her with ten other men, that’s generous of you-“

“-Ensign!-“

“-so I’m not gonna be your baby. You’ll be mine and you can find me something to be for the week.” she watched closely as recognition of her logic began to dawn and settle on him, “I could be anyone. I could be Benny Demarco, for instance. If that’s who you wanna lay next to.”

Gale didn’t speak for a long while, eyes off to the side watching the surf lap at the steps and she was still standing there, holding his unused towel. “Who do you want me to be?” he asked finally and his grave perception just about winded her in its raw honesty.

“You.” she replied honestly, “Whichever version of you made it here with me.”

“An infant -a baby.” he scoffed and she was suspicious those eyes were watery. And too delayed for it to be from the salt.

“My baby.” she replied, “Never had one before.”

“With respect ma’am, that’s Bullshit.” he argued in a fierce hiss, “I know you have, with John and -and-“

“I’ve been somebody’s,” she clarified, “but I think I’ve grown out of that. You’ll be my baby, huh? It’s not marriage, Cleven, it’s a week in paradise and hopefully some shut eye, too. So do you want me to be Benny?”

Those watery eyes let one single tear go trickling down his pink cheek alongside the rivulets of ocean water dripping from his hair and Maureen had never felt a single thing heat her up quite like it. “No,” his chuckle was thick and he sniffed, “not Benny. Maybe uh, God, I dunno, I’ve never had anyone.”

“Then we can make it up entirely.” she was pleased by the idea of not being a stand-in, although god knows she and John could sympathize more about the need for that than anyone. “We’ll be castaways.” she suggested, sitting back down on the porch now the confrontation was dwindling and in full confirmation of her suspicions, he sat again beside her without fuss.

“Marooned.” he disagreed, chin resting on his hands and a boyish tug pulling up the corner of his lips. “Something insane you did landed us here.”

“Mm, took liberties with the captain's daughter, perhaps?” she teased, daring to run a finger along those golden shoulders and collect a few salt drops. He shuddered under her but stayed put.

“I’m not playing fair maiden for you.” he retorted but his eyes were fond.

“Mm, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Maureen was still impossible and Gale felt his gut burn in a bizzare sort of drive to prove her wrong. He’d hardly ever felt this even with all the jokes from the boys, not even with all the temptations from the girls, it just hadn’t seemed something that needed proving. Every flea and salmon could do it, he never doubted when he got married he could manage it credibly enough.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones.” his voice sounded like he’d come to a decision and Maureen squinted at his profile until it clicked.

“I’ve never been married before.” she observed breezily.

“And I never planned on being married for just a week.” he replied.

“Isn’t there a film about this?” she asked, “Cary Grant gets stuck on an island and he marries his castaway but then they get rescued and there’s a first wife?”

“Yeah, I think so, actually.” he thumbed at his bottom lip in contemplation and Maureen found it endlessly distracting, along with the bird song and the ocean crash and the sunshine.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones.” she agreed then, settling back on her elbows to stare up at the sun and let it add a few freckles, “And when it’s over and you’re rescued, I’ll be the better woman and let Our Baby have you.”

“You’ll always be the best of women, Maureen.” he sounded like the admittance took every fiber of his resolve to say, but she’d heard it before in his voice weeks ago when she was patching him up.

If a tear slipped out the corner of her shut eyes and down a sun warmed cheek, she wasn’t going to make a deal of it, not until she felt his finger catch it tenderly before it dropped from her jaw and rolled it back up.

She felt her lip wobble traitorously and perhaps there were more tears planning to follow and betray her but the shivering shock of his full lips, pressed to her bare shoulder, stemmed the flood. Maureen held her breath and kept her eyelids sealed, an orange glow of sunshine behind them as all her senses attuned to the drag of his caresses up to the juncture of her shoulder, the press of his body next to her on the porch boards, the suspenseful absence of his hands. They were soft as marshmallows, those lips, and a stray tip of his tongue caught her clavicle as he worked his way up a path that almost seemed premeditated, as if he’d thought of doing this a million times but held back. Now he allowed himself and the assured intimacy of his mouth made her body heat soar almost beyond her endurance as he crept up her throat and onto her cheek.

A kitten lick to that tear track down her cheek and Maureen was whimpering from something else entirely, breaking ranks and turning her head to gaze at him, nearly stunned by how close he was, how alive, how beautiful, how blue. There were his hands now, one propped beneath her shoulder, the other cupping her cheek. Her lips were tingling with anticipation by the time he’d lowered his face far enough and brushed her mouth with his.

Maybe he’d done his fair share of kissing the girls back home goodbye, or maybe it was a talent given along with this impossible lips, or perhaps she’d wanted it so long that the final having of it sent Maureen spiraling with something oddly like obsession.

Kissing was enough for the longest time, the shore sounds and the squawking of ocean birds and the feel of Gale Cleven laying more and more atop her as his tongue met hers and danced. She scratched the back of that tanned neck like she dreamed of doing a dozen times, little scritches to his hairline that had him sagging against her kisses to the point of crushing.

She allowed herself the liberty of running her hands along his lean sides, taking in the graceful taper of his waist, the dip of his back, the sopping wet waistband of his briefs. She wondered if this is how men feel with a young girl, when there’s so much loveliness one wants to maul it and mark it and watch it respond. Anything to make him moan again into her mouth, wrenched and helpless and appreciative of her all at once, anything for him to hump his hips against her thigh in a manner so mindless he didn’t seem himself at all.

When he pulled away, dazed and winded from his own exertions, he seemed to have left behind all his inhibitions, stark need written on his face and only some doubt of what he was allowed yet remaining. “Are we gonna?-“ he trailed off, raspy voiced and trembling with suspense.

“Going to what?” she couldn’t abide it any longer, his demureness, “Say your mind, Cleven.”

“Do it.” he let out with a wince.

“Well I don’t know, Mr. Jones, you tell me. Are we gonna?”

Gale huffed and threw his head back, trying to regain some sense of mind, lip savagely pulled between his teeth. “Yeah. We are.” he decided.

“Then finish your sandwich.” she patted his waist and pushed him off.

“I can’t!” he begged with a groan from where he’d spilled out on the porch like a boneless dummy. “Not now.”

“You’re gonna need it, the water too, trust me on this.”

“Are we gonna -make love? Or go for a forced march?” he protested but lifted the canteen to his lips anyways when she gave him a look and proceeded to drink it dry.

“How would you know the difference?” she teased and he had the good humor to roll his eyes. If all went according to Egan’s plan, they oughta hibernate for twelve hours of sleep afterwards and she wanted him hydrated and ready for that. Maureen had a plan of her own, which certainly might lead to such a sleep, but it also involved not getting off that boy for love of God or money until he was as useless as a wet rag and the impertinent gnawing between her own legs was replaced by a good ache.

Cleven was staring at his sandwich remorsefully, “I can’t get this down, Maureen.” he declared with sudden finality and then, without preamble he threw it into the sea. “C’mon, Mrs Jones.” he held out his hand for her as he stood up, something close to an excited grin taking over his face.

He was so confident now, having come to a decision, and Maureen found herself naturally bending to his direction, placing her hand in his large palm and allowing him to haul her to her feet as gently as a dance partner. “We’ve got a bed.” she reminded blissfully into another kiss, anchored to his face by the persistent hands snarled lovingly into her salt tousled curls: this hair Maureen, this hair drove me mad.

“And we’re gonna use it.” he agreed, walking her backwards up the porch until he feet were skidding over the threshold, his tongue still sucking her own.

She stopped him there with a hand to the willowy plane of his belly, a regulated, principled woman to the last, and snapped the still soaked waistband of his drawers. “Off, you’ll make the sheets wet and sandy.”

Their sweat would accomplish dampening them enough in this muggy heat, they didn’t need sand and ocean water to boot. Maureen ducked beneath his arm and went back out to grab the discarded towel.

“I don’t want a trail of drips on our clean floor.”

Gale smiled softly at the usage of “our” -it felt right somehow, to share things with her. They’d been at it for some time, it came naturally like it had with Bucky and the few other boys who he knew would be something special and unlike anything else after this. It was a little bittersweet to know he was living the best days of his life, right here and now, enviable, irretrievable moments of raw connection slipping away with each drip, drip, drip onto the threshold. It was a heartache in the making and it was a spur for the moment. Back home they’d never understand, and any old observer would see nothing unique, but Gale could allow himself the rightness of sharing just one more thing. Why not cement it fully, irrevocably, as the closest brush he’d ever come to with another soul- he’d asked himself the same with Bucky, knew it was already an established fact.

Maureen’s lips were warm where they pressed to his back, the space between his shoulders, towel held to his waist. “You’re not shy of me, are ya, baby?” she whispered in his ear, thumbing at the still worn briefs.

He could feel himself this past hour hardening and softening, so many times in the space of so many minutes he was dizzy with it, the way his brain would have the upper hand and then, suddenly no, it all rushed south. Which now left shyness as the only real excuse for the way he burned and shrank and burned and shrank in turn at each of her touches.

“You gonna give me the towel?” he asked instead.

“Once it’s safe to do so.” she replied primly, in her familiar nursing voice, and he hated the shudder that tore through him. She stepped under his arm again, around him and into the house, and stood in the shade of the it with the towel spread invitingly, tauntingly. A whole yard and a half between then and she’d decreed no drips past the threshold. Gale’s cheeks burned as did his eyes, smarting with brimming tears from an odd frustration he’d only ever felt over a botched mission, an anger at not being able to bomb his target and make it worthwhile, a petty frustration he always felt before the cold rage of lost men fully registered.

Futile tears: Gale yanked the skivvies down and stepped out of them efficiently.

Maureen wasn’t smiling at him from the shade anymore, not even a smirk, she looked hungry. She looked like Bucky, taking in “a view.” Gale didn’t know ladies ticked that way -or maybe they didn’t, maybe only Maureen did. The blush in his cheeks ran down his chest and spilled onto his belly and his fists clenched without thought.

“When the man of the house,” Maureen was reciting some inane pamphlet she no doubt did not heed or else they’d never be here, “respects the whims of the lady in small matters, he will find the lady more submissive to issues of larger stake such a-“

Gale made a dash at her, to shut her up, and she fled from him to the bedroom, feet smacking on the hardwood and cotton slip fluttering up her thighs -his towel with her.

“I want you bare.” he told her when he had her, struggling in his arms before the bed, a lush friction where he pressed tightly behind her.

“Then sit,” she sounded genuinely breathy, trapped to him and he had never heard her like that before, it made him want to hold fast, “and I’ll make your dreams come true.”

It was just a slip, no garters and no braisere or girdle, yet still Gale sat himself on the bed and Maureen bit her cheek to keep from laughing at the modest way he deposited the towel on his lap, covering what she’d been eyeing and thanking her luck for. A cock as pretty as his face -now if she could just make it stand up fully.

“You ready?” she deferred to him as she stood there before the bed, being looked on with all the reverence and trepidation of a goddess by this seated acolyte.

“Please,” he nodded furiously, “please show me.”

It felt a little wrong to expose oneself in front of such an angelic being, curtainless windows throwing in the sun on him all golden and untouched, white scratchy sheets and white draped towel making it a bower of innocence for a brief moment. It also felt right, to throw off everything but what they’d been born with. Off went rank, obligations and expectations, as easily as dragging the slip over her head.

She tossed the article of clothing behind her for good measure -and dramatic effect- then noted with satisfaction the bleary eyed comprehension of her charms from Gale Cleven where he sat with his mouth hung so slack he was liable to drool.

“Incredible.” he muttered, husky and a little slurred, his hand raising without his own volition to beckon her closer, a plea, command.

Maureen swayed on her feet, nearer and nearer until she was standing above him, between his parted legs and she shuddered as he laid that broad palm on her hip and dragged it up her side in an admiring swath, thumbing at her belly and catching her ribs in his hold.

“Those flight suits of yours, they don’t…they don’t let show the half of it.” Gale declared, mesmerized, face hovering closer and closer until his lips were pressing against her flesh, right under her sternum, his forehead pressed to the underside of one pendulous breast, nuzzling as he became aware of that, bunting like a calf at her breast with his face, gone silly with access.

“Whadda ya think?” she giggled, the silliness of Gale Cleven gone stupid over making yams jiggle being the exact sort of thing that made life worth living, and being a woman exquisitely satisfying.

“They’re so goddamn soft.” he moaned around a bit of the underside, still hadn’t worked his way to a nipple. He seemed too preoccupied with their give and bounce to make a more calculated use of them. Maybe if men hadn’t been told what to do with them, they’d do what Gale Cleven was doing and rub their face against them and let them rest on their foreheads. There was a charm to this ignorance as he licked the salty sweat from their undersides with a surprisingly brave tongue.

The clumsy misuse was oddly effective for Maureen, what Gale lacked in skill he made up for in unstudied appreciation and nothing got her quite so ready as being appreciated to the point of foolishness. Her first conquest had been a boy at school who hadn’t minded tripping in his track shoes, day after day, to try to catch up to her on her bicycle, just to give her a flower or trinket. He was laughed at for his devotion until he broke the school track record next year, and Maureen was sure to remind him of her role in his success. They’d soon found a mutually beneficial reward system and Maureen had adopted that attitude as a maxim for the future, her dates and conquests may have been many but each of them in their own way had been appreciative -or else she was jumping out the window, damn the twelve foot drop out the dormitory.

No one, however, had looked quite so gifted by her mere existence as Gale Cleven did while he clutched at her hips and smushed her flesh between his hands like it were some fine dough and he was an artisan.

Discreetly, and it was easy to be so with his face buried in her bosoms, Maureen glanced between them at the tool she had such hopes for and found it, unsurprisingly, twitching and dribbling against his thigh, half hard but flapping about like a fish on dry land, the discarded towel no match for its movement. He’d need a hand, literally and metaphorically, and as she raked her nails through his blond curls and directed his slick mouth to a nipple, she felt him sag even further into her hold. Maureen weighed her next step carefully, trying to tamp down her own wants. She’d need to be sure but slow, careful not to spook him, or antagonize or embarrass.

She wondered if he even realized the same banged-up-head condition that sent him out here was most likely responsible for the jitters that kept him flopping. She wasn’t so conceited as to assume he’d not bedded a woman yet out of mere dysfunction, Cleven was a man of principle and strict notions regarding how the world should be, and he wasn’t one to build those notions on passing medical conditions.

“You like ‘em?” Maureen teased him, shocked at how hoarse her own voice had gone in the interim.

“Gonna make a home in here.” he mumbled in the affirmative, slack grin molded to the valley between them, blue eyes wide as the skies outside peering up at her.

“Got a job for you, baby.” she murmured, thumbing at the scar on his cheek.

“What’s that Mrs. Jones?” his voice alone made her mad with need, as did the saucy turn of his mouth so wonderfully foreign she didn’t know how she’d control herself until he was ready.

“Need you to lick a little landing strip, right here.” she ran her finger along the somewhat tacky skin between her breasts, sweat and his sloppy kisses having partway done the job already.

“What for?” Gale asked, hushed and curious.

“You’ll see soon enough.” she recalled how effective her nursing voice had been on him, and pulled it out now it seemed beneficial.

She had been right, with only a hesitant spark of aggravated defiance, Gale dipped his head and stuck out that pink tongue, lapping a swath up between her breasts as directed, flaming eyes locked on hers as she shivered from the breeze on spit slicked flesh.

“Again.” she told him, and his hands came up to hold her breasts apart as he did it again, and again and once more under his own direction until it was shiny and messy and his nose was gleaming, too.

“What’s it for?” He demanded once more, pink cheeked and swallowing hard as his mouth had dried out from his efforts.

“I told you, silly,” she replied casually, “it’s a landing strip.” and with as little fuss as possible she got to her knees before he’d registered the absence of her standing above him. “Gale, let go of the damned towel.”

She held in a laugh of delight at the tortured color he had grown to, veins running like so much ivy up and down him and a vibrant pink tip that matched his lips. Maureen wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look him in the face again without thinking of this drizzling little pink mushroom.

“You oughta count your blessings, Gale Cleven, it was a close call, my coming along at all.” she informed him soberly while his mind visibly vacated his body at the repeated sighting of his sputtering cock emerging from between the pillowy press of her breasts, “It was pretty touch and go there for a bit, I was quite sure in fact, that Bucky was gonna help himself to this assignment.”

“Maureen!” Gale thundered, except his usual imposing ire was much diluted by his quivering belly and hoarse voice.

“What?” she brushed off his scandalized displeasure with a grin, feeling cocky herself as he hadn’t flagged on her in minutes and was beginning to gush in earnest, “Bucky loves the beach.”

“Sure, Maureen.”

“In the end he decided I had what it takes.” she went on conversationally, ignoring the inhuman sounds that came out of him when she casually spit on his tip, the better to work her lips around him, “These.” she clarified, pressing her breasts to his thighs as she wrapped her mouth around him and sucked.

“Fuck, hell, Maureen! Sorry, sorry, oh fuck!” -not even Gale Cleven had expected his hips to fly up that hard and fast, knocking on the back of her throat.

She laid her hands on his squirmy hips and did her best impression of a Listerine gargle round his tip, which sent a shudder through him so strong she thought he might’ve climaxed already.

“Maureen, Maureen come on, get up here, please.” now he yanked at her hair, desperate for once and that was a pleasure to hear.

“What baby?” she pulled off him.

“Gotta kiss you.” he told her firmly, and hauled her bodily up by her armpits, rolling her under him in the bed.

Kisses -sure, Gale, kisses.

He was moaning atop her, wiry and flexing his hips against her, wriggling to get between her thighs and she let him, hungry and expectant when he slotted easily in place. He pressed his lips to hers ardently, then reared back in shock at the taste of his own precum in her mouth and on her lips.

“Salty.” he whispered as if to himself before licking his lips and going back for more. “What do I need’to do?” he whispered urgently against her mouth as she rocked against him and he rocked back until they’d frustrated each other thoroughly with mere caresses.

“Put it in, my baby.” she whispered back.

“First though, don’t I need to-to do- something? Something first?” he could barely think straight but he’d heard enough talk about this, about gentlemen and the necessity of some form of chivalrous preparation. The way discipline and intuition set apart an average pilot from an excellent one. Bucky had talked a lot about getting girls ready, making them squirm, revving them up, for all his apparent disinterest during the topic, Gale had been listening.

“You’ve done it already, Mr. Jones.” she giggled, reaching between them to drag him more firmly through the wanton swamp he’d made of her. “I’m ready, I’m so ready.”

“Oh fuck, s’wet.” he mumbled the obvious before willingly letting her guide him in, his body following her tug like his cock were a leash.

“Jesus,— Gale!” Maureen choked as he bottomed out in a sudden plunge, shocked at the stretch despite the gauging of his size. “You’re so deep, oh baby you’re a big one aren't ya.”

“You ok?” he whimpered, shuddering on top of her again and again at the incomparable feeling of being inside another’s body.

“Oh yeah, yeah I’m fine,” she gasped, “Hurts so good, you can move, baby.”

“You’re so warm.” he sounded close to worshipful he was so drunk off her, and Maureen spared a moment to smirk at the fate of man: come tearing their way out of a woman to begin their lives only to spend the rest of it trying to and needing to get back in.

He did try to move, she’d give him that. And while Maureen was more than half expecting it, still, it was mildly comical to see the confusion flash across his blissful face right as the buildup was snatched from him and he was suddenly shaking into the real event before he knew it, betrayed and euphoric all at once. The muscles in his belly and back and neck seized and his hips lunged in a series of uncoordinated pumps and she could read the panic in his eyes right before they rolled back -a begrudging admittance that this was nothing at all like the steady predictability of his hand.

“That’s it baby, that’s my baby, feel nice, huh?”

Gale didn’t answer her, too occupied whimpering with a taut throat and jaw clenched so tight he could snap a hinge like that. He was shaking worse than before when the spasms subsided and the tiniest pressure to his sweat slicked neck had him buckling to lay pressed against her, half senseless from the force of his release.

Maureen had always loved this part of sex, the pliable, bewildered, smushed man atop her like she’d sucked his soul out, when he’d rendered it up to her so willingly, so desperately, forcefully even, chasing his own eventual weakness. Long limbs aligning on top of hers, the hot pants of winded breath against her breasts, the hands listlessly holding on wherever that had last tried to grip and control her. The view from above with Gale Cleven was something additional, beautiful and glistening with bronzed swaths of sun exposed skin and the pale whites of his thighs and ass making a perfect little outline of absent shorts, his golden hair tousled beyond salvaging and that luscious mouth, drooling like a babe’s.

“So this is what Bucky’s been talkin’ about.” he mumbled into her breast, cheek smashed and enunciation shot to hell.

Maureen laughed in disbelief, “Thinking of him even now? Really, he’s going to be impossible if we tell him.”

“Just sayin’, now I know.” he defended, lazily rubbing his partly softened cock inside her with a shimmy of his hips that was quickly followed by an overly sensitive mewl.

“You don’t know anything, Angel boy.” she insisted and Gale raised his head at that, sour that she’d still contradict him after thirty seconds of vigorous pumping. “Let me see your hands.”

He had some trouble recalling where he put them but eventually he found them under her hips and withdrew them from their warm shelter to present them, warily. “Well, damn.” he muttered to himself, somewhat shocked by just how badly the shakes had worsened. “Looks like that treatment backfired.”

“More of a dose dependent case, I’d say.” Maureen corrected and circled each wrist with her hands and brought them up to her lips to kiss.

Gale’s face smoothed at her softness and a shy smile lit up his bleary eyes while she felt a twitch of his spent cock deep inside her, swishing about the mess he’d made like a dog’s tail after getting pats. “You have the most beautiful hands.” she informed him earnestly and balls deep inside her she watched as one single innocuous compliment sent him scarlet with a blush. “And they’ll be yours again soon.” she promised.

His gentle expression and bright red cheeks crumpled rather suddenly and before either of them seemed to expect it, fat teardrops had escaped the blue of his eyes and rolled down the crimson flesh of his face.

“Goddamnit.” he cursed hoarsely, in an absolute rage at himself, regaining his hands from her grip insistently to bring them up to his own face, hiding from her behind harsh fists that rubbed at his wet eyes like he could grind the grief and weariness out between his knuckles.

Unbalanced as he was without hands to support him, and legs gone jellied from his fast fading pleasure, Maureen chose to capitalize on it as a nurse would a brief state of insensibility to move a patient to a cleaner cot. Remorselessly she pressed at his shoulder and lifted their still joined hips until he tipped over, rolling onto his back beneath her. “We’ll have none of that.” she told him with loving adamance from her new perch, prying his hands away and pressing them to the sheets beside his head. “The hiding, I mean.” she clarified and he looked all of hardly past twenty laying there with wobbly lips and wet eyes unobscured, “I’m a very great proponent of crying,” she went on conversationally which confused him more but kept him too preoccupied to stifle his tears, “De-sanguination is still a highly esteemed practice, you know, it means to drain the body. One type of draining often triggers the other.”

“You gonna start bleeding me?” he asked wryly.

“Oh, maybe, you’d look so pretty all streaked up.” she teased and ran a sharp thumbnail over his pinned wrist.

Well, that got him hard again. Fascinating.

“You know what’s got your hands like this-“ she whispered softly, “-probably the same reason you flop, too.”

“Huh.”

“Pretty common.” she assured.

“Quit tellin’ me I’m common.” He growled, tickling her sides and she grabbed his hands, pinning them again playfully.

“Nothing common about you, sweet baby.” she swore, leaning down to kiss him and enjoying the way he met her strongly, surely, “Gale, can I move?” she asked, half strangled by the taut string of need coiled in her belly, tugged to madness by the bulk of him still resting limply inside.

“Move?” he was perplexed.

“I’m going to die if I don’t get some friction.” she whispered, somehow shy to admit that in the face of his innocent bewilderment, “God -please tell me someone has informed you women finish, too?”

“Bucky says they clamp up so tight you can’t help but blow.” Gale recited dutifully, “Which is what just happened, right?”

Maureen grinned wide and wicked before dragging her hips up till he was barely in, then plopping down into the cradle of his hips, making him let out a “oomph.”

“Maureen?” he questioned, half knowing already he had been mistaken but hell, to go again? “Maureen- I’ll die if we go again.”

“What a way to go.” she muttered, her pace atop him increasing as did the tortured gasps tumbling from his lips. His spunk was making terribly wet, lewdly sloppy sounds of suction each time she slammed down on his cock and the visual of her exerting herself on top of him was something so blatant and jiggly he could hardly endure the visual feast of it.

“Shit, shit I can’t-“ he growled while his trembling hands latched onto her hips in a grip that was anything but dissuading. “Maureen.” he begged her for…he knew not what.

“Come on Mr. Jones,” she clasped her hands around his face and aligned their noses, rubbing like a kiss with each movement of her lower body, “you’re not one to leave your missus needy, I know you’re not. Not when you’ve got such pretty hands-“

-a shudder from him.

“and a clever tongue-“

-a whine from him that sounded close to a wounded dog’s it was so lasting.

“-or a tool this capable.”

“Maureen.” he groaned.

“Baby, my baby.” she begged, “You’ve got what I need, come on, take me apart.”

Like he trusted himself for the first time since they began this endeavor, she felt his body bow up beneath her, his arm flexing strongly across her hips, his legs braced beneath her and a heavy hand clutching her neck, then he was driving up into her with a wild abandon she only ever hoped was simmering beneath that cool exterior. When she finished he hadn’t stopped, and Maureen found herself crying out like a feral thing into the hollow of his clavicle as the brutal pummeling went on, satisfaction drug out of her over and over in harsh ruts.

“That more like it?” he panted the harsher he grew, a hand around her jaw pushing her face away from his so he might see the damage he was doing.

“Yes, yes oh baby, yes!” she swore through clenched teeth, it had been too long and each blissful peak only aggravated her further, made her hungrier, that and the fact he was so proportioned as to be a constant delight just shy of pain, “Hell Gale, do ya hear us?” she gloated, propping herself back on his thighs to watch the shiny pink of him flash in and out of her wet sheath.

Mesmerized, Gale didn’t reply, but he dragged a hand up her belly and felt for the way it tensed at each intrusion, the span of his fingers an incredible thing across her skin. “Can’t believe you can take it, easy as that.” he marveled, his thumb straying and pulling apart her petals the better to watch.

“Thumb it right there.” she directed gently, reaching down to move his calloused finger over her bud, right above where he split her apart, “That’s it, ya feel that too, huh?”

“Fuck you’re tight.” his voice cracked and his eyes shot wide again.

“Are you -?”

“Maybe.” there was a wobble of blissed uncertainty in his voice until she stopped her movements and he let out a sob before he could catch it. “Maureen, please.”

“Please what, baby?” she was chuckling at him, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead, “I let you-“ he pleaded, still thinking things worked that way, “-now I need, please Maureen...”

“Oh you can.” she assured and his face lightened but his eyes stayed wary, “But just know, I won’t be stopping.”

“What?”

“You remember how that feels, don’t ya baby?” she reminded, gently pushing him to lie back and beginning their movements anew, “So good you can’t stand it, so messy and easy for me, so tender and much for you?”

“Jesus.” he wheezed, his lean belly caving in with his heavy pants, but she felt him throbbing inside her and his pupils were large as saucers, “You’re as mean as Bucky.” he whined, voice gone high in panicked pleasure.

“Thank you, but really I’m not.” she laughed, gently thumbing away an errant tear that rolled down his cheek. “Not quite.”

“Maureen, please, please you’re too pretty!” he begged nonsensically even as his hips began to snap into hers, invigorated and forceful.

“Hold it Gale, try to hold it.” Maureen gasped, staring down at the prettiest face she’d ever seen as his brow began to furrow, “Or don’t, all the same to me.”

“I’m gonna flip you.” he swore and a few seconds of inaction passed, marked by the slam of her hips down onto his, and she thought he didn’t mean it until she gave him a daring look and suddenly she was careening backwards, head jolting against the sheets and body laid out firmly beneath him.

“Goddamn.” she swore at the way he hadn’t dislodged an inch during the whole maneuver, suddenly pressed just as deeply as before, his hips working like a piston and his hands tight and strong on her neck. “Goddamn baby. Oh goddamn that’s good.”

“S’good?” he begged her to repeat, some dizzying natural force propelling him harder and faster and needier.

“You’re so good.” she was adamant as she hung about his neck and locked her ankles in the small of his back. “You’re so good I’m - I’m -gonna-“

“What was that about holdin’ it?” he hissed, smile cocky and smug.

“Bull ain’t out of the gate yet Cleven,” she cautioned but her hips had begun to lift of their own accord, a tremble taking hold of her, “But I’m close, I’m, i'm real cl- oh God!”

“Come on sweet Maureen, wanna make ya -wanna do it for ya. Give ya what you need, Mrs Jones.” Gale’s hoarse and sweet nothings poured hot and breathy in her ear and Maureen found herself locked and gripping him before she knew it, moaning into his neck as he moved in and out, in and out as she’d only ever dreamed of.

When she cracked her dazzled eyes open again he was panting above her, the clink of his dog tags gently bumping her chin with each sway deeper, lashes batting in a golden flutter as he too began to lose himself, slower, more drawn out and yet every bit as desperate as the first time.

“Look at me baby, look at me when ya do.” she pleaded, gently gripping his chin as his mouth fell open in a series of little noises of effort that went straight to her belly grown hot and molten with the feeling of him spurting inside.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh,” Gale was working atop her in pained delight, lips so smeared and face so sweaty he looked like he might melt at any minute, “thank you, oh fuck, thank you, sweet Maureen.” he chanted low and dreamy, again and again until he drove in once more and stayed.

Those clear blue eyes fagged in an exhausted ecstasy, his head dropping impossibly further with each ragged pant until his face was barely hovering over her breasts, neck bent and forhead slowly pressing into the swell of them. His forearms gave out and those hands of his stayed trapped beneath her shoulder blades.

“Sleep Angel baby,” Maureen coaxed, hand cradling the back of his dear head to her breasts, feeling a low lazy peace settle over her at the feel of his dead weight plugging her up and the lovely wringing out she’d just endured, “let’s just sleep, dear boy.”

Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

MOTA taglist, I only have one so please ignore if this is not the universe you signed up for. 🤓 :

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

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@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

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@luminouslywriting

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@bookotter01

@mads-weasley

@ka-ski

@justheretoreadthhx

[itgetzweird08]

Stuck.

Katsuki Bakugo x Gender Neutral!Reader Angst Hcs

A fic based on July by Noah Cyrus (I am so NOT sorry for this :)

Warnings: Nothing major, just mentions of drinking, implied cheating, and heavy language. Also general angst

A/N: I know a lot of y'all want the next part of Endevour's Secret Daughter and The Spark That Lit His Fuse. I'm working on it I swear, just got a little writer's block. But I promise I'll get it done soon! For now, enjoy this sob fest :))

I've been holding my breath

I've been counting to ten

Over something you said 

The stress of growing as a hero was heavy, of course, you knew, but recently Bakugo seemed to be taking it out on you. When there was a bad mission, he would come home with a hard slam of the door, sparing you nothing but a hard glare. He would push you off and away when you would offer comfort, and when you tried to suggest he take a breath, he raised his voice to you.

“Can you get fuckin lost? Hell, I wish you would stop being so fucking annoying!”

I've been holding back tears

While you're throwing back beers

I'm alone in bed

This wasn’t a once-off either, as now it seemed like he would snap every time you would look at him. You felt like you had to hold your breath every time you were around him. But now, it seemed like everything was only getting worse. At least for a while, he would still come home, but now there were nights where you laid in the cold bed alone for hours until he would come back smelling like sweat and beer... and perfume.

You know I, I'm afraid of change

Guess that's why we stay the same

You knew you could leave, you knew you should. But fuck- something in you just couldn’t handle the thought of losing him. You had been together for so long, you liked the consistency of your relationship. And you didn’t want to feel as if you were giving up. You never gave up. To you, this was all just a hard challenge that you would overcome eventually. This hard roadblock would pass…wouldn’t it?

So tell me to leave

I'll pack my bags, get on the road

If he told you to leave, you would. But you wouldn’t be able to just give up on your own, not while you still felt some semblance of hope that your relationship could survive this.

Find someone that loves you

Better than I do, darling, I know

You wouldn’t be mad if he did decide to leave. Maybe he was right, maybe you weren’t cut out to be the partner of the number two hero. You were quirkless, and went to school for art. You knew nothing about having a special ability or hero work for that matter. Maybe he needed someone who did understand. 

'Cause you remind me every day

I'm not enough, but I still stay 

“What the hell do you know? You’re quirkless, you’re nothing. You’ll never be able to understand what I’m going through.”

Feels like a lifetime

Just trying to get by while we're dying inside

Six months…you’ve been stuck like this with Bakugo for six months. Nothing has gotten better. The small spark of hope you had for the relationship was slowly fizzling out. Now every bit of this relationship felt like torture. And yet you didn’t go anywhere.

I've done a lot of things wrong

Loving you being one

But I can't move on

You knew there were probably plenty of people in this world for you. But none of them were Katsuki. Maybe falling for him was a mistake. Everyone had warned you whenever news got out that you were dating him. Even his own friends, while teasing, dropped subtle hints.

‘I’m surprised anyone could stand him’

‘I can’t believe he found someone he’s considered worthy’

‘Thanks for putting up with him, I know he can be..a lot’ 

No matter what they said, you didn’t listen. You could never regret loving Katsuki.

So tell me to leave

I'll pack my bags, get on the road

“You’re too much of a distraction. You’re only holding me back.”

“What are you saying, Kats?”

“...I’m done, Y/N. I need to focus on being number one, not on being your boyfriend.”

Find someone that loves you

Better than I do, darling, I know

‘Dynamite and Uravity, Japan’s new IT Couple’

'Cause you remind me every day

I'm not enough, but I still stay

[heiznx]

BOOK 6 TWST THINGS I GLOSSED OVER

THINGS I WANT TO SHARE (note) i'm only finding out about this now while i'm reading the masterlist here, since the wiki hasn't updated yet and i skipped book 6 in the eng game, because i used a translator to read book 6 in the jap before it came out in eng. some information are already well-known and some are things i already knew, but i decided to take note about anything i thought was noteworthy!

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Chapter 66, Tower 2, Part 5 — Riddle became a dorm leader on his first year.

Chapter 66, Tower 3, Part 8 — Riddle said that he confiscated exam study guides, made by Azul, in Heartslabyul. — He thinks that Azul couldn't compete with him in terms of academics because Azul has too much on his plate, while he devotes himself in his studies.

Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 17 — According to Leona, Riddle can cast a spell so fast and that he could lead a group and fight on the front lines with his fire power, but sees it as a double-edge sword because of his stamina and his temper but he has a confidence to be a leader.

Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 19: PTM-456 — Riddle misses Grim

Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 20 — He started taking special lessons when he was 3 — When his mother was pregnant, she was already preparing all necessary materials to ensure Riddle will grow up to be an exceptional mage. — Riddle is not sure whether he is a prodigy or if he earned his talents because of how he grew up. — He studied in a private school when he was young and wasn't able to skip grades despite his intelligence because it wasn't a 'norm' and his school didn't allow it. — He also said that he saw no point for him to skip grades either because he needs to be 24 years old to be a medical mage. — He originally was supposed to be a medical mage once he graduates, but he MAY be having second thoughts because he developed an interest in law after becoming a housewarden.

Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 22 — Riddle's cape can cover two people and block a bit of light.

Chapter 69 — Riddle hasn't taken his magical device licensure exam.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Chapter 66, Tower 2, Part 13 — Leona's Unique Magic: King's Roar, can turn ice to dust.

Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 25 — Leona has a refined palate, he doesn't like dry, stale rations. — He drinks sports drink.

RUGGIE BUCCHI

Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 21 — Leona says that he doesn't think Ruggie's magic is as good, but he's aware of what he is lacking and doesn't hesitate to use Leona to make up for it; Ruggie doesn't see it as anything shameful.

JACK HOWL

Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 21 — Leona views Jack as someone pretentious, and says that Jack doesn't have what it takes to lead yet so Jack comes to Leona when things gets too out of hand. — Leona finds Jack's honesty adorable.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Chapter 66, Tower 2, Part 5 — Azul became a dorm leader at his second year.

Chapter 66, Tower 3, Part 8 — Azul considers Riddle as an academic rival. — His overall ranking often goes from top 2 to top 10 — Even after book 3, he still has his backroom 'consultations'. — Riddle said that Jade mentioned Azul goes off campus on day offs under the pretense of market research.

Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 17 — According to Leona, Azul is a quick thinker and knows how to put himself in an advantageous position. Leona assumes Azul struggled living in land, but Leona says that Azul sees it as a strength.

Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 17 — He (possibly with Floyd and Jade as well) were trained in Sunshine Lands (a place where a prince of Sunshine Land married a princess from the Coral Sea and was founded by the mermaid princess) and said that he couldn't find a 'catch' in the organization and he put in an application there as soon as he was accepted in Night Raven College.

Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 20 — Azul started learning the basics of magic when he was 8, and he was taught by his mother and grandmother who were both mages. — His family was not entirely pressuring him in studies thus him being lax about it until he was in middle school.

Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 22 — He was raised in the deep sea so his eyes could adjust to the darkness.

Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 25 — Azul doesn't feel upset when fighting against Ortho and Idia's dreams because he knows well enough that someone has to make a sacrifice to make it come true — One of his dreams is to be a valedictorian, opening a second Mostro Lounge branch, starting a delivery business, selling tableware, running a hotel, and getting into the leisure industry.

Chapter 69 — Azul has never driven a magical wheel.

FLOYD LEECH

Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 17 — Azul said that Floyd often forgets to take his doses to keep his human form (transfiguration potion), and says that it's normal for him to hear Floyd saying "Hey, my ears are fins again!", or "My fingers grew some webbin'!"

JAMIL VIPER

Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 25 — Leona calls Jamil: Snake. — Jamil admits to Leona that he always judged people around him as stupid, incompetent, lazy, or good-for nothing, but says that that was just what he wants to believe. He admits he has more to grow.

VIL SCHOENHEIT (FT. ROOK)

Chapter 66, Tower 1, Part 4 — He can separate his feelings and duties as a dorm leader and his personal thoughts and emotions.

Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 16 — When Vil first got in Night Ravel College, he started turning down long-term acting offers to focus on studies, but had to act in some plays and movies because they got sequels.

Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 17 — Vil first met Rook on the school gardens. — Vil never gave Rook the time of his day but Rook kept reaching out to him and pointing out things Vil internally chides himself for. — He didn't catch up to what Rook talked about for five hours about his own play.

Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 19: PTM-854 — He is curious what he would look like if he took a form of a phantom because he thinks phantoms are the manifestations of their greatest desire. — He remembers what his phantom looked like. — He admits to unconsciously thinking about beauty about being youthful and may have feared aging.

Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 25 — Vil acknowledges that the Shroud brothers wanted 'normalcy' but was willing to destroy their dreams for his own.

ROOK HUNT

Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 20 — Rook found the Mirror's sorting agreeable thus stayed in Savanaclaw, but thought he would learn more about 'beauty' in Pomefiore faster so he transferred. — He talked to Vil about his decision in transferring from Savanaclaw to Pomefiore, but Vil couldn't talk him out of it. — According to Vil, Rook stuck out like a sore thumb when he entered Pomefiore because his hair was long, thick, unkempt, and he also had freckles in his cheeks and nose. — He never bothered using sunscreen or skin care so his cheeks and nose were always bright red. — He would go all-over the place in sweatpants with frayed hems or jeans with torn knees, but would fix his attire a little when going to an operas and concerts with dress codes. — Vil once picked out an outfit for him because Vil believed that a beautiful stage deserves beautiful audiences.

EPEL FELMIER

Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 19: PTM-859 — Rook said that Leona praised Epel's broom/flyting skills in the club.

GRIM

Chapter 66, Tower 3, Part 9 — Grim is 70cm. — Epel said that Ace and Deuce told him that Grim hates his nails being trimmed.

Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 19: PTM-735 — He has long nails. — He often scratches on Heartslabyul's couches.

[sadnightforus]

coworker and enemy!yangyang who has been a pain in your ass ever since you joined the company in late September. He was your supervisor and he was helpful and nice before you got switched to be under Kun's wing. ever since that incident, he starts messing with you and your mind. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who looks for an opportunity to jap and even throw a smart remark at you whenever you both are together. You’ve grown so used to his behavior overtime that you aren’t fazed by what he was doing anymore. You began to throw remarks at him too and humiliate him at times for him to have a taste of his own medicine. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who purposely messes up your work items and hide your lunches so he’ll have a reason to say ‘haha loser you look like you’re about to die’ and you’ll be forced to sit through an empty stomach, insanely worn out from both work and his antics.

coworker and enemy!yangyang who always bickers in your social media posts even though you both don’t follow each other. You reciprocate the same energy and oftentimes, even go as far to mess with other people who attempted to flirt in his comment to show him that he will never win this silly little game easily. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who becomes much more meaner when you started getting closer to Sicheng, who is a new member of the team from the other department, and he seems to notice and like you too. He would go as far to say you’re unattractive and not compatible with Sicheng, which you both know is a total lie, but for some reason, you got affected by what he said. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who became worried as you began to be so much more quieter, distant and you stopped responding to his antics as your attention is solely directed on your works. He instantly feels like shit and even filled with rage when he notices that you have become much more affectionate with Sicheng too. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who often punches the pillows and gets drunk, murmuring about how he hates that you’re so distant and looks at Sicheng like he’s your world while Yangyang himself probably amounts to nothing in your eyes and he wishes that you’d reciprocated his love too. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who gets drunk and complains to his friends about how you have heart eyes for another ‘scumbag’ in his company, slurring all of his drunken thoughts about how he has been in love with you for so long and he just doesn’t know how to express all of those thoughts properly so he resorted to picking on you instead. He was mad that instead of you noticing him, you gave attention to another worthless guy who doesn’t deserve a dime of your time. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who one day works late overtime and gets out, thinking no one would be in the building. Surprisingly, he spots you, who seems to be equally as beaten down by the work as him. He walks to you, doesn’t have the heart to tease as it has been so long and you’re startled by how quiet he has become right at this moment. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who strangely enjoys the comfortable silence, without bickering just once as you both are taking a long walk, exiting the company’s ground. He was doing good until you hit him with the question ‘So.. a little birdie that you like me. Is that correct?’ in the most teasing voice ever and he swears he wants to die. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who begins to panic, while wondering who could be the snitch on him as his mouth quickly responds ‘No I don’t, you’re just egoistical.’ to which you respond with ‘Oh yeah? Then why have you been raving about how pretty I am to your friends and how you hate Sicheng so much?’ 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who becomes silent as he knows you have defeated him in this, then you laugh, the loudest and most genuine laugh he had ever heard since he knew you. ‘That’s my cousin, you’re so dumb.’ Then you laugh even harder, as you continue speaking ‘If you pay attention, you’d notice that I use Sicheng to get back at you for being emotionally constipated and bullying your crush as your love language.’ 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who becomes red in the face as he gets exposed as he tries to speak ‘Wait! I can explain-‘ and he just ends up stuttering half way when he does. You find it adorable how he has a new different side to him. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who becomes ecstatic once he heard the ‘You know, I think you’re so dumb that you never really noticed I like you either the way I harassed at least half of the girls who follows you on Instagram’ and he doesn’t care for anything else as he leans in to kiss your cheeks. 

coworker and enemy!yangyang who ends up working his courage to ask you out on a date and finally working out on getting his enemy as his baby. 

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2024

A/N: it's probably better if i write an au but I can't handle it so enjoy.

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

[mysblog]

I wish I could lose all my memories to watch these Movies/Dramas again for the first time.

1. Bloodhounds

2. Weak hero class 1

3. Blind

4. Nobody knows (2004 Japanese movie)

5. Young Adult matter (Movie)

6. Better days (Movie)

7. Extracurricular

8. Christmas Carol (Movie)

9. The Glory

10. Itaewon Class

11. Parasite (Movie)

12. Stranger from Hell

Dramas/Movies not to lose my memory for but definitely a good choice:

1. V.I.P. (Movie)

2. The Call (Movie)

3. Tunnel (Movie)

4. Seobok (Movie)

5. Train to Busan (Movie)

6. Midnight runners (Movie)

7. Move to Heaven

8. Hierarchy

9. High school return of Gangster

10. Save me

11. Sweet Home

Not a must-watch but I watched it anyway and lowkey enjoyed it:

1. Connect

2. Duel

3. Gannibal (Japanese drama)

4. Secrets in the Hot Spring (Chinese Movie; horror and comedy: just extremely silly but kinda amusing)

5. Shadow Beauty

6. Mask Girl

7. Night has come

Movies/Dramas that will waste your time but spare you from boredom:

1. Liverleaf (jap. Movie)

Watchlist:

○ Celebrity

○ Death's Game

○ A Killer Paradox (will be released 9th February)

○ Sinkhole

○ All of us are Dead

○ Class of lies

○ Swing Kids

○ Ròm

○ In cold Blood

○ 19th floor

○ Not a murder Story

○ little Woman

I'm gonna post this List now but keep updating it.

If there are any recommendations: text me, I need to avoid Uni as much as possible before my procrastination fails me.

[sixpennydame]

Hii can i request 18 with Levi x reader and canon? Ty😘

Hello and Happy Holidays! I hope you'll enjoy.

DAY 3: Fake dating for a Christmas party/ball

Levi x fem!reader

"No."

Levi crosses his arms and scowls. "There's no way I'm attending a stupid Christmas ball."

Erwin massages his temple. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Levi. You've been asked for specifically."

"Why? So those rich bastards can parade me around like some kind of show pony? No thanks."

"Those 'rich bastards' fund our expeditions. We need them on our side. And you won't be alone," Erwin gestures toward you.

Both men look at you and you stand a little straighter. "Hey, I have no problem being wined and dined by the Mitras elite. You can count me in."

Levi just rolls his eyes at you. "Fine. But she's doing all the talking."

You follow Levi as he storms out of Erwin's office. "Come on, it won't be all that bad. We get to wear fine clothing and eat delicious food - what better way could there be to spend Christmas Eve night?"

"I could think of about a hundred different ways."

"We make a great team in the field slaying titans...so who's to say we can't also make a great team slaying the purse strings of all those rich people?" You grin and jap his ribs. "It'll be fun."

"If you say so." Levi stops in front of his office door. "It starts at 7 o'clock. Be on time so we can get in and out of there, ok?"

You salute him mockingly. "Yes sir!"

As the evening approaches, Levi arrives and waits for you in the entryway of the grand home. He can feel the stares of people passing by and he straightens the jacket of his tuxedo. He checks his watch, and right when the hour hand clicks on 7, he looks up and sees you.

You enter through the large double doors in a red gown that looks as if it was made just for you. The velvet bodice is cut close to your body and then flares out into layers of taffeta and silk. You've put your hair up, but a few curled tendrils frame your face.

As you walk toward Levi, he swallows hard. Just a month ago, you were covered in mud and titan's blood. But now...

...you look so beautiful.

A huge smile spreads across your face as you see Levi. "Can you believe this?" You twirl around. "I think this dress costs as much as my entire Survey Corps salary!" You stop. "What do you think?"

Levi's eyes rove over your bare collarbone and the sweetheart neckline of your dress. "Not bad."

You roll your eyes and then look Levi over, suave and dapper in his black tuxedo. You stop to straighten his bow tie. "Switched out the cravat for the occasion, I see."

He shrugs you off of him and fidgets with the tie. "The dress code was black-tie only."

"Well.." you link your arm in his, "shall we eat first or have a dance?"

He stiffens a bit at your touch, but then relaxes. "Oi, this isn't a date or anything. We're working."

"What's the point if we can't have a little fun?" You pout. "Please...just one little dance tonight?"

He lets out a sigh. "Fine. One dance."

Levi doesn't mind, as long as he gets to hold you, just a little longer.

--//--

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[mads-nixon]

See the Good

Eugene Sledge x Medic!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Merry Christmas @iceman-kazansky!! I literally squealed when I saw I got you as my giftee! I loved your prompts, and I hope you like what I did with them!! I'm going to post one gift per day so that they'll be a little spaced out! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of k company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Prompt: “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: When Gene can only see himself as the terrible things he's done in the war, (y/n) is right there to remind him who he really is.

Warnings: descriptions of dead bodies (non-graphic)

OKINAWA, JAPAN: MAY, 1945:

The ground beneath their boots trembled, and the deafening whistles of mortars filled the air as (y/n) and the rest of K Company ran for cover. They sunk into the muddy sludge below them, turning each step into a battle against the sucking earth. Gripping her corpsman pack with white knuckles, (y/n) followed Gene, not daring to stop in the barrage.

“They have us targeted!” Burgie yelled, hurdling over a giant boulder in his path. “Get to cover!”

Just as (y/n) ran past the remnants of a demolished shed, a sudden blast threw her violently to the ground, sending a cascade of mud in all directions. Her ears rang with disorientation as she blinked slowly, struggling to regain her senses. The ringing faded into a muffled whine and a face appeared in (y/n)‘s vision. Although the figure’s face was blurred, she knew it was Eugene. His mouth moved rapidly, but she couldn’t understand a word he said. Realizing this, he quickly grasped the front of her uniform and hoisted her to her feet, throwing an arm around her waist to keep her upright as they bolted for cover.

Reaching the rocks, (y/n)‘s hearing slowly faded back, and the sounds of booming artillery reached her ears.

Sledge pulled on her arm, helping her over the rugged terrain. “Come on. We’re almost there!”

Finally reaching the safety of cover, the company continued farther into the rocks to escape the barrage. Snafu was in front of them and on the verge of a panicked breakdown.

“This is bullshit!” he cried, plopping down on a rock. “If I ever find the FO that called that arty, I’ll shoot him!”

Gene maintained his hold on (y/n) as he led them toward a big rock, his frustration evident. “They’ll just do it again,” he huffed, gritting his teeth. “All because some asshole officer read a map wrong and nobody gives a shit about us!”

After he sat (y/n) on the boulder beside Snafu, Eugene took a deep breath and sank beside her. He turned to the dazed woman beside him, her once white corpsman armband a brown and muddy mess. “You alright?” he asked her, knowing even he himself wasn’t alright after what happened before the shelling.

The woman and her baby…

(Y/n) nodded slowly, her eyes rising from the ground to meet his. ”Yeah. Just got my bell rung. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Sledge persisted.

“Yes, Gene. I’m okay,” she murmured wearily, rubbing her eyes. “Really.”

Removing her helmet, she threaded her fingers through her (y/h/c) hair, wincing at the dried mud that pulled at the roots. Over their time on the dreadful island, they all discovered that the jungle was just as much an enemy as the Japs.

Snafu stared wide-eyed at the ground below him, hands on his head as his chest heaved. His expression was the same one that each marine wore as they grappled with the massacre they’d just witnessed.

What country uses its own civilians as shields for a surprise attack?

As a corpsman, (y/n) had seen more death than the average marine, and after the fierce fighting on the islands of Peleliu and Pavuvu, she was struggling to remain afloat in the vast ocean of numbness that threatened to drown her. The only thing keeping her above water were her boys, the men of K Company: Sledge, Snafu, Burgin, and De L’eau, although Jay had been transferred to intelligence. They’d lost so many good men, and it made her even more thankful for the guys who had always been there for her.

“Corpsman up front!”

The call snapped (y/n) from her thoughts, and she quickly rose, momentarily losing her balance until a strong hand grasped her upper arm, holding her steady. She felt the warmth of his hand through her thin ODs as he held her in place, accompanied by a blush creeping up her neck.

“(Y/n)-” Gene started.

Shrugging him off gently, she turned toward the call. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Be careful,” he whispered after her, watching her form disappear into a sea of olive-green uniforms. With another deep breath, Sledge sat back down, trying to calm his still-racing heart. She had been right behind him…until she wasn’t. Panic had gripped him when he saw her motionless figure in the mud as the artillery rained down around them. When she opened her eyes, he felt a weight lift off his chest.

Rain drenched the marines through the night as they held their position looking up to the ridge. Around 2000HRS the next day, (y/n) trudged back to her squad, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Dried blood clung to her cracked hands, refusing to wash away, no matter how many times she’d scrubbed them raw. The casualties were unending like the rain that constantly poured on them. Luckily, the downpour had come to a stop in the early morning.

She’d been at the BAS since the previous afternoon treating and evacuating wounded marines from the already bloody battle. Continued artillery and fire throughout the day brought a steady stream of bleeding men through the tent’s entrance. One of these men had been Bill Leyden. He wasn’t in good shape, and when (y/n) saw the damage on her friend’s body, the air rushed from her lungs. After pushing away the panic, she quickly helped other corpsmen stabilize him, before sending him off to a hospital ship. As she watched him go, her heart sank at the realization the company had lost another man…another friend.

“Hey Doc,” Snafu called out gently as she approached.

She looked up from her feet at the man with a tired smile. “Hey, Snaf,” she whispered. “You seen Gene?”

Motioning over his shoulder, Snafu replied, “He’s right over there. But, Bill…“

“Yeah,” she sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We got him stabilized. He should make a full recovery. Lost a few fingers, though.”

In a trance-like state, Snafu nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. It was something they all did. A way to escape the horrors they lived through. With a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, (y/n) moved to find Sledge, but the Cajun’s voice stopped her.

“Eugene. He got a letter…his dog died.”

She turned to face him with raised brows. “Deacon?”

“I guess,” the man nodded. “I think he’s bothered more than he’s letting on. You know how Eugene is.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him.”

She found him staring into space ahead of him as he sat up against one of the island’s many rocks. Before she approached, (y/n) simply watched the man before her. She could see his growing stubble and the mud that splattered his cheeks, but what worried her was the blank expression on his face. She longed to see the lopsided smile that used to hang from his lips. (Y/n) didn’t know how long it had been since she’d seen that smile…too long.

Pulling her satchel off her shoulder, she quietly approached him and slouched down beside him. They sat silently for a moment, the warmth of their touching shoulders spreading through them. Gene was the first to break the silence.

“Did you see Bill?” he asked quietly, his eyes still glued on the rocks in front of him.

(Y/n) nodded, looking up at him with a small smile. “Yeah, he’s gonna be okay.”

Gene leaned his head back against the ground with a thud, his eyes closed as a shuttering sigh escaped his lips. She sat up off the rock and turned toward him, gently taking his hand.

“I’m sorry about Deacon.”

The second her fingers intertwined with his, Sledge’s heartbeat accelerated, and the man felt heat spread through his body. He took a moment to compose himself before he opened his eyes. He looked down at their intertwined hands before meeting her concerned gaze.

In that moment, Eugene could have sworn she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that she was coated in blood, mud, and sweat. She was there for him like nobody else had ever been in his whole life. Sure, he was close with his parents, but he felt they never completely understood him.

Who’d have thought that he’d have to travel almost eight thousand miles to find someone who could do so?

Eugene’s eyes flashed down to her lips, unable to control himself as their closeness made him suddenly bold. He always wondered what they’d taste like. How they’d feel against his. They were chapped, just like everyone else's, but that didn’t matter. The young man wanted a way to show her how much she meant to him. Sure, there had been moments where he told himself he was going to kiss her, but the moment ended before he had the opportunity. Something in the moment felt wrong, though, and he decided to wait once more.

“Thank you,” he whispered, swallowing thickly as he tried to regain his composure and keep the memories of his beloved dog at bay. “He was a good dog.”

“How old was he? 10? 11?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “10.”

The woman’s eyes searched his face, trying to get a read of what he needed from her. She saw pain in his hazel eyes. Pain from the loss of Bill. Pain from the loss of Deacon. Pain caused by the war.

She decided he needed some hope. Some laughter.

“Did I tell you about the time Snaf and I almost got caught stealing from an Army captain?”

Later that day, Gene and the rest of his squad sat among the rocks, each lost in their mind. (Y/n) was beside him, writing in her journal, and they were doing the same…all except Peck, who was attempting to dig a foxhole in the soaked ground. Since the day they arrived on the wretched island, Sledge kept up with how many days they spent there with tallies in the back of his Bible. With the days running together, they rarely knew what day it was or how long they’d been there.

“What’s the date?” Burgie asked, putting down his small journal.

The group turned to Gene, who took a deep breath. “June 5th, maybe. Might be the 6th.” He turned to (y/n). “(Y/n/n), which one you got?”

“I have no idea,” she sighed. “I gave up keeping track a while ago.”

Peck decided to chime in as he dug. “We’re never getting off this island.”

Everyone was thinking it, but he was the one person who dared to speak it aloud.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, glancing over at Gene with an annoyed expression. If looks could kill, Peck would be six feet deep from the redhead’s glare. His jaw clenched tightly, and his chest began to heave as he stared at the replacement.

Sensing his rising anger, (y/n) reached over and placed a hand on his thigh. His eyes moved to meet hers, and her (y/e/c) irises seemed to whisper, ”He’s not worth it,” and, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Gene took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Beating the crap out of Peck wouldn’t bring Bill back, and letting anger consume you was a dangerous game. Every time he was tempted to let it in, (y/n) was right there, a soft presence telling him that hate was not the answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted daily. Sledge had seen what men could do to each other. He had seen what the Japs did to his friends.

Looking away from Gene, she was met with a strange stare from Snafu, who was smoking a cigarette and sitting on their makeshift toilet. His gaze was questioning, but not criticizing. When the man’s eyes drifted down to her hand, her stomach dropped, and she felt like she was caught red-handed. (Y/n) quickly removed her hand from Gene’s leg and shot to her feet.

“I’m gonna go-uh-do some rounds,” she announced, not daring to look at Gene or Snafu.

A few seconds later, she went treading through the sludge, her corpsman satchel pressed tightly to her side. The men all watched in confusion as she left, unsure what had made her so jumpy all of a sudden.

“She alright?” Hamm asked once she’d disappeared from view.

Burgie, always an observer, glanced over at Sledge to watch his reaction. He looked somewhat like a kicked puppy. Wrapping up his Bible, Gene began to tuck it into his pocket without a word.

“Don’t worry about (y/n), Hamm,” Burgie replied with a nod.

Hamm raised an eyebrow at his sergeant. “But did you see her-”

“She’s fine,” Snafu interrupted, pulling up his pants and rejoining the group. “Besides, she’s already got someone to worry about her.”

At the statement, Eugene froze, a cold chill running through him despite the heat. A million thoughts ran rampant in his mind.

Is there someone else in her life?

Does he know something I don’t?

Does he know how I feel?

Groaning, Burgie smacked the Cajun’s shoulder. “Shut up, Snaf. Don’t go starting crap.”

The sergeant first noticed the bond between Sledge and (y/n) back in training, but especially when the company landed on Peleliu. They always stuck by one another when they could, and she seemed to help calm the Marine amid his anxiety. As time went on and their relationship changed, Romus knew they had feelings for one another, even if they didn’t admit it. He’d never spoken about it to anyone, fearing it could become a rumor that would possibly get the pair in trouble if they ever acted on their feelings. Hearing Snafu insinuate something between them sent a pang of panic through him.

“We all worry about (y/n),” he continued. “But she’s a great corpsman. She can hold her own.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eugene rose to his feet and went to take a leak. He did have to relieve himself, but he also wanted to get away from the conversation. If Snafu knew about how he felt, the man would never stop tormenting him. Even if it was in a joking way, Gene didn’t want to be the subject of Shelton’s teasing.

Just as he made it to a somewhat secluded spot, he heard Mac’s voice ring out from above him.

“I need a stovepipe boy up top!” he yelled, coming down from the ridge.

Gene slightly ducked his head behind a rock, hoping the lieutenant would miss him. To his dismay, Mac caught his movement in the corner of his eye.

“Sledge, that’s you. Bring some comm wire.”

Sighing when his superior disappeared over the ridge, he muttered, “Yes, sir,” and went to follow his orders.

The stench of excrement and death permeated the air as (y/n) walked through their temporary camp checking on the men. Her eyes watered from the smell, and it took all her willpower not to gag. Even though she’d built a great tolerance to gruesome sights and smells over her time as a corpsman, sometimes it all got to her.

Snafu’s stare replayed in her mind, and she hoped that she didn’t accidentally give herself away to the group. Worry buzzed in her stomach like the disgusting flies that seemed to be ever-present among the mud and filth of Okinawa. (Y/n) tried to busy her mind with the long list of men to check on, but she couldn’t focus more than a few moments before getting lost in her head again.

Spotting a man on her list, she called out to him.

“Hey, James,” she greeted, approaching his muddy foxhole. “How’s the ankle?”

He groaned and shook his head. “As good as it’s gonna be, Doc.”

In the barrage the day prior, the private slipped and rolled his ankle in the mud trying to get to cover. He insisted he was fine, but some of his squadmates sent (y/n) to check on him. Henry James was a stubborn young man who wasn’t even old enough to drink, yet he was on a foreign island in Southeast Asia fighting for his country…fighting to survive. She crouched beside his hole, inspecting the ankle that was elevated above the entrance.

“Were you able to stay off it much?” (y/n) asked, gently prodding the bruised skin.

“A buddy of mine took my OP shift so I didn’t have to walk around on it. It’s more stiff than anything.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s how ankles are. They’re tough-”

Her voice came to a stop as yelling filled the air. It wasn’t cheers of victory or anything of that nature. They were cries of attack…of desperation…of death. The second the sound registered in her mind, she was darting toward the ridge, hoping to get there before the shooting started in case someone got hit. The rapid beating of her heart filled her ears as she ran through the mud and past battle-weary marines. A few of them called out to her, but she didn’t hear them.

The first ping of an M-1 being fired echoed through the air as she made it to the base of the rocky ridge. Cursing under her breath, she quickly began her ascent. Finding the most solid footing, she climbed the hill, using the jagged rocks as handholds. Gunfire filled the air, silencing the screams of the enemy. (Y/n) was out of breath when she made it to the top, but she didn’t stop. Most of the fire had stopped, but a few shots still rang out.

At the moment the corpsman reached the other marines at the top of the ridge, her heart sank at the sight of Eugene unholstering his revolver and aiming at a wounded Jap.

“Cease fire!” Mac cried from the other side of the ridge. “Cease fire!”

Gene didn’t care.

“Damn, Sledge. Leave him,” Hamm muttered to the redhead.

Whipping around to face him, Eugene scowled. “What for? He’s a Jap, ain’t he?”

(Y/n) watched in horror as Gene opened fire on the man already wallowing in the mud. He missed the first two shots, but the third hit its mark, hitting the Jap just above his hip. The soldier sunk into the mud face down, his writhing coming to an end.

“Cease fire!” The Lieutenant repeated as he neared them. “Cease fire, damn it!”

Satisfied with his work, Sledge grabbed his rifle from beside Hamm and turned to descend the ridge. When he noticed (y/n) a few yards away, he froze for a moment, his eyes resembling a dark storm cloud that could start down pouring any second. Guilt seemed to cloud his usual hazel eyes, and he looked away, unable to stay steady beneath her gaze after what he’d just done. He then continued down the ridge.

Mac was quick to confront him, gripping his carbine in one hand with white knuckles.

“I told you to cease fire. What are you doing?”

The private spun to face Mac with gritted teeth.“Killing Japs,” he seethed, turning to go down the hill again.

Before he could get far, the lieutenant spoke again. “You just gave away our position!”

“I think they’ve got a pretty good idea of where we are,” Gene chuckled bitterly.

Mac pointed toward the dead Japs. “I told you to cease fire. You’re supposed to be observing, and then I see you with a damn sidearm!

“We were all sent here to kill Japs, weren’t we?” Sledge screamed, climbing back up to be nose-to-nose with his lieutenant. “So what the hell difference does it make what weapon we use?”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but flinch at Gene’s sudden outburst. She’d never seen him like this before, and she wondered what made him finally break. What was the straw that broke the camel’s back? What had happened in the five minutes she was gone?

A tear streaked down her cheek seeing the man she cared about more than anything giving in to the war. Seeing a man be reduced to a shell of who he once was was always heartbreaking, and (y/n) didn’t realize just how much until she witnessed him finally crack.

“I’d use my damn hands if I had to,” he whispered to a frozen Mac, who clenched his jaw and slowly walked past him. (Y/n) was quick to try and follow Gene once he stormed down the hill, but a gentle hand on her shoulder held her back.

It was Burgin, his face scrunched with concern. “Let ‘em cool off, (y/n/n).”

“Romus, he-”

“I know what he means to you,” he interrupted in a whisper as he glanced around them for any eavesdroppers. “But trust me. You need to leave him be for a little bit. Let him think.”

(Y/n) swallowed thickly. “Please don’t tell anyone, Burgie. I could be-”

“Your secret’s safe with me…He needs you, (y/l/n), but give him a few hours.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, her gaze dropped to the ground. “He was fine when I left. What happened?”

“I don’t know. But we did hear him hollering about something right before he went up top.”

“Thanks for everything, Burg,” she sighed, patting his shoulder softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and the guys.”

A sheepish smile grew on his face, and he chuckled under his breath. “You’d be a lot more ladylike, that’s for sure. The other day, I’m pretty sure I saw you smoking Sledge’s pipe.”

“Whatever,” she groaned, rubbing a hand down her dirty face. “A lot of women actually smoke, ya know?”

The rest of the afternoon did not go according to (y/n)‘s plan, and she was unable to check on Gene after he cooled down. Within an hour of his outburst, she was called back to the field hospital to assist in an all-hands-on-deck emergency following a Jap ambush. The corpsman was up to her elbows in blood, bowels, and every other bodily fluid from vomit to urine. It was a hard night, and it got even worse when a terrible rainstorm moved in, trapping her from returning to her company due to poor visibility.

(Y/n) spent the night, and most of the next day, helping around the hospital. She dressed wounds, administered pain meds, and helped transport men to the hospital ships on a Jeep. A radio call was received that told of the 1st Marine’s plans to take the ridge, and (y/n) knew she needed to be there.

She caught a ride to the ridge just in time for the assault. The men were checking their weapons and quietly conversing with each other as she walked through the various companies. When she reached her squad, however, silence filled the air. They all had thousand-yard stares, and the group was missing two guys who had been there the day before. Her pace slowed as she approached them.

“Hey, guys,” (y/n) said softly, her eyes flicking from man to man. When none of them acknowledged her, she knew something bad had happened. “Where’s Hamm and Peck?”

Silence.

She took a deep breath, trying not to imagine the worst. “Please, guys, whe-”

“Gone,” Gene interrupted harshly, his gaze snapping to hers. “Hamm's dead and Peck’s gone. He cracked.”

(Y/n) felt the all-too-familiar punch of grief knock the air from her lungs. Eugene’s hazel eyes were dark and stormy, even more so than the previous day. She swallowed thickly, attempting to push down the emotion that clogged her throat.

“What happened?” she asked shakily, her eyes never leaving Gene’s.

Before he could respond, Snafu spoke. “Doesn’t matter. They’re gone.”

“Shelton’s right,” Burgin added. “It’s hard, but we’ve got other things to focus on.”

(Y/n) nodded once and dropped her gaze to the group, blinking away the tears that burned her eyes. Two more of their group were gone. Sure, Peck wasn’t her favorite person by any means, but he was still part of their company….on their side. And Hamm…he was a kid. A kid who deserved better than to die in the mud on some foreign island.

They all deserved better.

“Let’s move out!” Mac announced, waving for them to follow.

Each man followed suit, but Eugene hung back to wait on (y/n). Seeing her tear-filled eyes, he instantly regretted opening his mouth. The anger within him seemed to dissipate momentarily as he joined her side.

“Remember, you’ve got a bullseye on your arm,” he murmured, gesturing to the red and white medic brassard on her arm. “Please be careful.”

“I will.” (Y/n) lifted her helmet to look up at him through her lashes. “You take care of yourself, too, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, admiring her features. His eyes trailed from her eyes down to her nose, and then to her lips before flicking back to her (y/e/c) eyes. They stayed locked in each other’s gaze for a few moments, their eyes seeming to have a silent conversation communicating everything that was left unsaid. Gene slowly reached up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. The racing of (y/n)‘s heart wasn’t from the artillery that had begun hammering the ridge, but Eugene’s warm caress against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch.

They both wished the moment could last forever.

Another yell from Mac shattered the moment, leaving (y/n) missing the tenderness of his hand in its absence.

“I’ll find you after,” he said, turning around and backpedaling to catch up with his squad. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

The corner of her lips quirked into a smirk. “I’ll leave that to you.”

Once the battle had died down and all the remaining Japanese were either killed or taken prisoner, (y/n) went searching for Gene. When the bullets began to fly, she couldn’t get the boy from Mobile off her mind, and anxiety churned in her stomach as she looked for him. The stench of gasoline, blood, and burnt flesh filled the air along her ascent to the ridge. Bodies of both marines and the enemy lined the narrow path up the hill, and her eyes scanned each one, praying that none of them were the men she’d come to love dearly.

“Burgie, you seen Sledgehammer? He was just over here.”

Hearing the familiar Cajun accent, she spun toward the voice and sighed in relief when she saw Snafu atop an old bunker, his legs swinging as he sat on the edge with a cigarette hanging from his lip. Romus was talking to another sergeant a few feet away, his rifle swung around his shoulder.

“There you are!” (Y/n) called out, reaching up and slapping Snafu’s foot. It was all she could reach from his elevated position on the concrete bunker. “You alright?”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow, blowing a puff of smoke into the humid air. “Not a scratch on me,” he mused. “I don’t know where Eugene is, but don’t worry, I just saw him. He’s okay, too.”

With this news, a wave of calm washed over her, and she let out the breath she’d been holding since they parted. “Thanks, Snaf. I’ll find him.”

“Have fun,” he laughed, waving his cigarette around in front of him. “And do me a favor and fuc-”

This caught Burgie's attention. “Hey!” He interrupted, scolding Snafu like he was a parent whose child was acting up in public. “Cut it out.”

Busting out laughing, Snafu winked at (y/n), who could feel the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks at his intended comment. She raised a hand and flipped him off with a grin before continuing her search for Gene.

It took her a few minutes of wandering to spot his familiar frame among the sea of dirty green uniforms, but when she did, a huge smile painted her face. (Y/n) almost called out to him, but something stopped her.

He was sitting alone on the busted remains of a bunker with his helmeted head in his hands, his weapon lying idle in the dirt beside him. She continued toward him slowly, observing the gentle shake of his shoulders that told her he was crying.

“Hey, Gene,” (y/n) murmured with a softness that matched the gravity of the moment, lowering herself onto the earth beside him. He reacted quickly, averting his gaze and hiding his face as he wiped the tears from his dirt-covered cheeks.

Reaching over, she softly turned his face toward her. After a moment of resistance, he gave in to her gentle touch. His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, met hers. (Y/n)‘s fingertips traced the dirt-streaked paths on his cheeks, her touch a soothing escape from the horror they lived in.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, ducking to meet his eyes. “I’m here.”

Gene’s lip began to quiver, and a stifled sob escaped him as he covered his face with trembling hands. “I’m a monster, (y/n). The things I’ve done…” he strained, moving away from her comforting touch.

(Y/n) watched the play of emotions on his face as he stood up abruptly, throwing an arm out to point to a bombed-out building. The skeletal remains of what once was a home loomed in the smoky haze. “There was a family in there. Now a baby with grow up without a family! I called in the mortars up there! I did that! I’m a monster!”

“No,” she shot up, her voice cutting him off. “You are not a monster, Eugene Sledge. We are at war. We’ve all done terrible things here, but it does not make you a monster. The fact that you’re feeling like you are proves you’re not. It means you’re human, Gene.”

Another tear streaked down his cheek as he clenched his teeth. “After Bill and everyone we’ve lost, I wanted to get them back. I wanted to. You saw me yesterday!”

“Eugene! Look at me!” she ordered, cupping his cheeks as she implored his attention. His gaze wandered everywhere but her face until she spoke again, her tone much softer this time. “Hon, please look at me.”

Tear-filled hazel eyes met hers, and she tugged him a little closer, they’re faces only inches apart. “We all want to get them back. You are not a monster.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” he croaked, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “What if this is who I am now?”

“I know exactly who you are. You are Eugene Bondurant Sledge. You’re still that same boy from Mobile, Alabama who loved his dog more than anything, the same one who loved to fish with his father, and the very same one who I fell in love with before we even stepped foot on foreign soil.”

A sob escaped his lips, and his eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed by her words. “There’s no way you can love me like this. You deserve someone else who-”

“I don’t love anyone else, Gene!” she urged, tears stinging her eyes. “I love you, and I’ll say it over and over, every single day, for as long as it takes to make you believe me.”

Shaking his head, he tried to break free from her touch, but she held on. “I’m not a good man.”

“You are good, Eugene. You are a good man. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but it’s how we respond to them that makes us who we are. This right here? It proves you’re a good man.”

Her words seemed to break through in his mind, and he froze for a moment. Pulling off his helmet, he moved (y/n)‘s hands from his face and cupped her cheeks, his red eyes still glossy. “I love you,” he murmured, voice wavering. “And I will spend the rest of my life working to be worthy of you if you’ll let me.”

The tears (y/n) had been holding back filled her eyes, a few of them trickling from her waterline. She nodded in his gentle hold. “You already are.”

He wiped a few tears away softly, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. “You’re too good for this world, darlin’,” Gene cooed. “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

With utmost care, Gene reached up and removed (y/n)‘s helmet, her tousled (y/h/c) spilling out. The fading sun added a soft glow to their faces, emphasizing the exhaustion etched in their features. As he delicately held the helmet aside, Eugene’s eyes met (y/n)‘s, a silent understanding passing between them. He closed the gap, his breath mixing with hers as his eyes lingered on her face, taking in every detail-the mud smudges, the fatigue-as if memorizing each nuance.

With a gentle touch, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was a tender blend of longing and comfort, a quiet promise to stay by the other’s side. In that moment, the world around them ceased to exist. Time slowed as they embraced, finding solace in the simple act of being together at last. The sounds of war faded into the background, replaced by the gentle symphony of two hearts seeking refuge in the warmth of each other’s touch.

[jmdbjk]

Bangtan weekly report

Lordt, what a week, what a month, what a year? It's September, we're on the downhill slide.

I've been busy, y'all. You know, life happens and all that crap we say when we have to focus on stuff that's not as fun as staring at the latest naked Bangtan pics... anyway... there is A LOT to process, A LOT to even sit down and catch up on.

Let's break it down shall we?

It was JK's b-day and he first tried to TikTok live us and you know, I hope he can't figure it out to his satisfaction because there's no replay and no translations so fuck TikTok and I mean that in a nice way. Thank god for Armys who record and translate.

And he dropped this tiny but significant TMI:

We know he's building that big whatever it is. It will be a while before he leaves his current residence...or? What? Moving elsewhere until he enlists? He mentioned in one of his more recent past lives that he had to clean up some of his junk in his apartment... soooo.... hmmm....

Also, this:

Acting research? I'm loving the sound of whatever that is.

Thankfully he came to visit us on Weverse live as well, did a few card tricks and cut it short, one of the shortest lives he's done in years and years? Were the aces a hint? Or just part of his magic trick?

Adorable goofball. By the way, the subs are up on this live.

He was out and about before the live, taking pics on the street, he's said he doesn't mind at all, running into fans in public and saying hello.

It's the people who claim to be fans who stalk him and show up uninvited to places where he's trying to live his life in private. Whoever you all are, I'll speak for Kookie. Y'all suck.

In Busan, when he was with his idol friends, they were asked if they were who they were by the restaurant employee and they tried to deny it. That should be a big hint to leave them alone.

Kookie shared a video on his TikTok in solidarity and support of RM speaking out about the uncalled for hate that came RM's way after he posted that song on his Instagram story.

You know... there's been quite a lot of discourse lately about culturally sensitive topics. Tae's "gaffe" and this song that RM shared... I think if you felt offended or uncomfortable when you saw those things happen, those feelings are your own and 100% valid.

Being of Japanese descent, through my life, it has made me cringe when I hear people call stuff "Jap crap" or just yesterday, a canvasser for a political candidate asked me if I was from around here... like... if I was blonde and blue-eyed would they have asked me that? You know? I was speaking to them exactly like I speak here, fully fluent in (Southern U.S. redneck) English because that's my only language (sadly, no thanks to mom and dad because I did not learn Japanese or French). But I don't get obsessed or angry or want to threaten anyone's careers or life. I don't even think about it. And I don't really hold it against people who are not aware of how they come across like that.

People are insensitive all the time without knowing it: asking a woman when they are due but she's not pregnant and maybe can't even have children... mentioning other culturally derogatory terms without realizing it (see "Jap crap" above), saying something looks "gay" like... ok what does that even mean?... you know what I'm saying? I use the term "spirit animal" all the time and someone DM'd me saying it was offensive. So we're all guilty.

I get it, we're all different in how we react. BUT MY FEELINGS ARE VALID TOO, AND MY REACTION IS MY OWN AND DOESN'T HAVE TO BE THE SAME AS YOURS TO YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE.

As I said, feelings are valid, and the members aren't perfect and it's okay to call them out on it. But the extra implication that was piled on Namjoon for that song rec crossed the line and he addressed it in his own live.

Exasperated he explained that it was just a song and that he knows exactly what everyone is saying, that he's a 30 year old man and can express himself freely. He said even if there will still be those who will accuse him of lying, he can't and won't lie to us.

I love him: "For ten years I've held things in my heart but nowadays I can't do that, I have to speak my truth. Believe my own words."

Before he got into it though he offended the mathematicians and then tried to back track (omg I'M JOKING ok?... unless someone got offended... omg, can we just chill?)

His 2-day old stubble and fuzzy headed self.

The obsession people have with their weight and their looks is mind-blowing. The way he's drilled in the comments on his face, his hair, about admitting he's tanning, how much he weighs, what he eats, he looks tired... This man has an IQ of 160 or whatever and people are worried about a mosquito bite on his forehead. The vapidness and shallow level of interaction in the comments knows no limit. But we've known that. Please, before commenting can people please make a list of things to speak on other than how they look?

He closed by saying to trust him, he'll always show us what's inside of him whether its his music or him as a human... life is a journey with a lot of obstacles, he's good and focusing on his own things and not on the bad energy. He is in such a good head space nowadays... love to see it.

Next up, Taehyungie-hyung...dis my fave pic out of everything I've seen so far:

I am not a fan of Tae in blonde hair, I've said that before. But this particular shot is stunning to me, the lighting and angle.

As you know, I've not paid as close attention to Tae. Honestly I've been waiting for him to share things during this solo time so I can get to know him better just like I did with the other members.

Up until now, everything he does seems superficial EXCEPT the deliberate soft reveal of his relationship with Jennie, which I hope they are doing well and navigating the shitty waters of having to be idols in a relationship.

But so far, its photo spread after photo spread and I'm just not into it. Yes, Tae is very photogenic. I'm sure V biases are over the moon. I'm happy for them! If it was Jimin you would be sick of me posting every photo, so I get it! But I was looking for something a little deeper from him.

So it was this Dingo show that his personality opened up a little to me somewhat... interacting with this Army who's dream is to become a Military Officer. She is the cutest thing, her reactions so genuine and I could feel her excitement and how she was overwhelmed at the end of their day together when she broke down. Girl was holding it in and living the life that day!!! Sooo happy she got to experience that!

And these pics are the cutest:

This one right above with her hands on his shoulders... such a precious memory. I am looking forward to hearing the rest of Tae's album. I'm sure I'll have things to say about it at that time.

And that brings me to Jimin. The jikook selca not withstanding, we haven't seen or heard from him in ages so after 2 months, 15 days, 23 hours, 8 minutes and some odd seconds (but who was counting? not me)... we finally see him again in person at a Dior event in Seoul.

He looked so good, except that tan leather coat reminded me of something 50s vintage, car coat over a sheath dress women wore in the springtime. He's small. Let's put a giant white garbage bag on him. Don't know what goes through their minds.

Dior creates some extraordinarily crafted pieces, but so far, I sometimes wonder if they've even bothered to look at any of Jimin's previous photo concepts for other various things. It's almost like they don't know how to dress him. That's just my personal opinion.

Anyway..AND THEN HE COMES LIVE!!! FINALLY!!!

Is that a Red Dragon keyboard he has in front of his computer? I don't really know anything about gaming stuff. And goodness...

He gets comfy by tying up those pants that look like four of him (or him and Kookie) could fit in there at the same time...

His eye crinkles... I don't care what people say about his beakie... I'm all about the eye smile and those eye crinkles that are going to get deeper with time.

Y'all, this is my bias...

That mood light of the realistic solar system makes Jungkookie's mood light look like child's play. But I see why his moons down his back look like they do.

I know some of the first translations say he called Jungkook for his birthday and he talked about wanting to live his 30s just as full as his 20s, and he's learning through his solo work that he has things to learn and he will improve and I just don't have enough or the right words to express how much I love and admire his perseverance and dedication to being the best at what he does and the best human he can be. I will do a full blog post when the official subs are ready later this week.

I don't know how this guy from the other side of the world got so completely under my skin:

I know there was a lot of other content that dropped that I didn't touch on but there aren't enough hours in my day to type it all up. I will just continue to watch and absorb as much as I can just like everyone else.

Jin and Hobi are still plugging away at their respective bases, I always pray for their safety and health while they are doing their duty. In a few months, Jin may show us what it will be like to celebrate birthdays while they are enlisted.

And Yoongi. We wait as the days tick by. We know its coming very soon. Holding my Yoongi bias friend's hand very tightly. We'll get through this together.

[cover-me-in-gasoline]

just imagine the red string i don’t have any

sticky notes say from left to right top to bottom:

orange: “ENDLESS NIGHT” drum — no other goodbye? not like them

orange: frankieromustdie fortune cookie posting REAL

orange: foundations is abt 9/11 (+ released w/out warning)

pink: that’s in 2 1/2 weeks btw :)

green: SEPTEMBER 11, 2023 mcr5 release / announcement 💜 a panicked poster by cover-me-in-gasoline

orange: outfits show a woman who stars to decay after “terror” drum (where she dies?) [with attached pink note: feat. gerard autism fit lol]

orange w/ arrow pointing from photo of all the drums: -> “here comes the airplane” + skylines played

orange: skylines is abt 9/11, foundations is abt 9/11

pink: 9/11 would be a banger reunion album theme tbh. circling back to the beginning but showing [how] they’ve changed [“how” not featured (i forgot)]

pink: + basically confirmed by frank’s bad lying + rich is bein kinda suspicious

images are:

top left: screenshot of spotify playing foundations of decay

under that: screenshot of the lyrics “he was there the day the towers fell / and so he wandered down the road” with “the towers fell” underlined in sharpie

under THAT: collage of all 9 drums from the nz/au/jap tour

top middle: screenshot of frankieromustdie’s story which is a photo of a fortune cookie fortune that says “let’s finish this up now, someone is waiting on you for that”

to the right of that: screenshot of a tweet detailing all the frank iero fortune cookie posting (feat. tinhat ray toro image)

to the right of that and all the way down the right side and then along the bottom a bit: all 9 of gerard’s tour outfits in order probably

[precious-little-scoundrel]

WIP teaser

I got myself a lovely little request over a week ago for a Nurse!xBuck fic. Well, hi, it’s me, can’t not take that and run with it straight off the edge of the known world. I don’t even have a fixed name for it yet but I’ve been enjoying AU-ing our familiar faves to death with it

MOTA Pacific Theatre AU: yeah, you heard that right. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Iwo Jima currently happening or maybe it’s my ongoing crush on Ensign Jane Kendeigh, or -more likely- my subconscious awareness that nurse OC’s are a pretty favorited bunch for fandom writers, so I’ve found myself mixing it up entirely.

We’ve got Navy Flight Nurses and we’ve got Lt. Commander Doc Egan and co-pilots Cleven and Demarco who aren’t too fond of having to fly cargo planes full of wounded out of war zones all due to flight surgeon John Egan’s special request to have Cleven chauffeur him around. Oh yeah, and somehere in here there’s a developing thing between Cleven x oc Nurse!Ensign Maureen Kendeigh

TW: blood? Use of the word “Jap”

…

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his station, then past it to poke her head between the pilots’ seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted, she hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a bloodied toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

��Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Thank you, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Coming Up • Temporary Secretary • On The Way • Waterfalls • Nobody Knows • Front Parlour • Summer's Day Song • Frozen Jap • Bogey Music • Darkroom • One Of These Days

Spotify ♪ Youtube