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#why is the pilot the name of the series
kurohaai · 4 months
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Seed
Previous part: Hunter
※This comic contain a very self-indulgent Charlastor. Please use discretion. Read right to left ( ← )
Dinner is ready.
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After 4 years, the comic continues ✨ Thank you for the support of fellow fans on my Ko-Fi; I will post a new goal for the next part around next week! ^^
As for the part 2... it's pretty straightforward follow up from part 2. Seed is planted, now we wait. (did anyone catch Charlie's horny grip get that stag ass girlie)
Thank you for reading as always 🌸🌸🌸
Bonus: Charlie in denial mode after (much to Alastor's delight)
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vvviktor · 7 months
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living my personal rinascimento (tøp lore recap unlocked + IDKHOW album drop + dnp are sooo back like never before + will wood is probs remastering the normal album + im pirating the pj series + im rereading AoA)
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mariocki · 1 year
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Robert Shaw acts as the Pimpernel's loyal right hand man, Lord Anthony Dewhurst, in The Adventures of the Scarlet Pimpernel: The Hostage (1.1, ITP, 1955)
#fave spotting#robert shaw#the adventures of the scarlet pimpernel#classic tv#itp#itc#1955#more info on this series (and why it's an ITP production but also ITC) in the tags on my prev Pat Troughton fave spotting post#Robert wasn't quite a newcomer at this point‚ having been acting onscreen for a couple of years by now‚ but he certainly#hadn't made it yet; this might have been his big break‚ except that his character never reappears after this first episode#i suspect this acted as a pilot‚ with some of the establishing footage reappearing in a later ep and with Shaw's character being#replaced for the series by two helpers for the Pimpernel‚ played by Pat Troughton and Anthony Newlands#quite why Bob left idk; there isn't a huge amount of information out there about this near 70 yr old bit of tv obscurity#but he did alright; the following year he'd take the lead in one of ITC's next ventures The Buccaneers and shortly after that#he'd start landing film roles that would ultimately catapult him to Hollywood and to big screen immortality#added to which of course he was already making a name for himself on the english stage (and by the end of the decade he'd be adding#novelist to his list of accomplishments). he's very good here tho naturally falling into a supporting role; he's there to look#impressed by Goring's genius and feats of bravery and to occasionally lend a hand in a fight. i do think Troughton and Newlands#get more character to play with in their parts but then they get multiple appearances to help them with it#The Buccaneers is on my shelf where it has sat for some years now... one day... one day....
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phoenixkaptain · 2 years
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Me, writing Star Wars fanfic: “Oh man, if I don’t give this character who appears for five minutes at the very start and then never again a name, I’m a bad writer. I’m unprofessional and uncreative and boring and bad and-“
The literal actual Star Wars novels: “This character jumpstarted the whole plot, goes through a character arc, and is a good friend of the main characters, but he doesn’t need a name lol”
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ddejavvu · 24 days
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Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Four) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.
Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post
WC: 4.8K / navigation / inbox
A/N: Day two begins!! thank you to everyone who's been reading along, and if you're just finding this series for the first time through this part, welcome! I hope you enjoy, and though this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, it packs some punches. You will get more insight into why they act the way that they do in this chapter, in the next chapter! bear with them please, they're dumb </333 please let me know how you're feeling about the series so far! <3
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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Daniel’s shoulders are so broad that they block your view of both the cabin and his face, everything completely obscured by the heaving, sweaty, tanned mass of muscle flexed over you. Daniel’s toned arms frame your head, his lips tug your own into a string of merciless kisses, kisses that leave you panting when you’re granted even the slightest of respite. His cock pumps in and out of your throbbing cunt with every thrust of his strong hips, and all that you’re capable of is a pathetic stream of whines and whimpers as Daniel undoes you.
“Oh Dan- Daniel! Please, harder, I want- I want more, please!” You babble, gripping at his back, smoothing your hands and scratching your nails over every inch of his glistening, taut skin, “Please, please, I need more, please, more- harder, more, I need you!”
Pleasure shoots through your core stronger than you’ve ever felt it before, and you chase the feeling desperately, lifting your hips to press yourself into Daniel’s steady thrusts. The new angle of your body allows for your head to be tipped backwards, and you catch sight of the hazy face that had eluded your vision before. But where Daniel’s scruff blankets his face, there’s only tan, smooth skin, squared at the chin and leading into the tight, determined snarl of none other than Jake Seresin.
“Jake!”
You wake like it’s from a nightmare, a gasp leaving your throat and your stomach dropping at the image of Hangman having his way with you. You’re sweaty and sleep-ruffled, and you realize with a still-throbbing core that you’re clinging to one of his arms, rutting your hips against him like a man starved. 
Fuck. Fuck, your throat is dry which probably means that you’ve been moaning, god forbid his name, and- and he’s going to tell everyone that you’re desperate, and you’re never going to be able to look him in the eyes, and you might as well quit your job because he’s won and there’s nothing you’ll ever be able to do to make up for how ashamed you’re going to be… when he wakes up.
He’s asleep.
His lashes are softly resting above his strong cheekbones, lids covering eyes that did not witness you at your most vulnerable. He didn’t see, he’s been asleep- he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know, which means that you never have to talk about it, which means that you can go to the bathroom and take a cold shower and pretend that you woke up on the floor instead- maybe you’ll even tell him he kicked you off in the middle of the night so that he feels bad enough not to tease you for the day. And nobody ever has to know that he’s in your dreams, whether they be that or nightmares.
You stagger out from under the bedsheets and over to the small bathroom faster than you’ve ever been awake and alert in your life, and you’re instantly relieved by the sanctuary of the bathroom when it lets you shut a door between you and Jake.
--
The slamming of the door or the squeaking of the shower knobs is not what wakes Jake. It happened to be a very loud, very wanton cry barely minutes prior, when he’d woken to find your pinched-up face buried into the heated skin of his bicep. You’d whined and whimpered and moaned until a very sizeable tent had grown in his pants, and you’d fucked your hips onto his thigh over and over and over again until he’d felt a wet patch blossom that stuck his boxers to his thigh. He’d remained civil- respectful about it, keeping still even if his mind was racing, but when you’d suddenly moaned out his own name- Jake would have reached for his cock but that was when you’d woken, and he’d already had his eyes snapped shut in the desperation of conjuring a mental image of you writhing below him so that it seemed like he was still asleep. Blessedly disguised, Jake listens as you beeline for the bathroom, and when the door slams, his eyes fly open.
A quick glance beneath the sheet reveals a stain of translucent slick that’s soaked into his boxers, big enough to account for the way you’d been grinding so desperately onto his thigh. Knowing that you’d said his name, not Daniel or Damien or Dallas or Dalton or Devon- you’d been dreaming of him. It’s enough to have Jake frantically prying at the hem of his boxers, tugging on his cock with one rough fist while the other hand prods desperately at the wet spot on his boxers for something to lick up. Jake was the name you’d said, Jake is the man you’re thinking of.
--
Jake cannot be the man you’re thinking of. You don’t have nearly enough energy when you close yourself into the bathroom to shower right away, so you take to sitting dejectedly on the lid of the toilet rather than scrubbing down right away. But you feel dirty, you feel wrong for fantasizing about the jerk from work instead of the dreamboat you’d frenched in an elevator less than 24 hours prior. It’s not fair. Why does your brain have to latch onto Jake? Why can’t you just be peacefully separate from him, why does he have to nail himself to your door and bleed through the gaps? 
And why did he have to dress you in lingerie? 
You realize you’re staring down at your pink silk-covered stomach, and your nose scrunches when you note how little fabric there is to cover what’s between your legs. Christ, he couldn’t have dressed you in something a little more modest?
Although, you suppose, you didn’t bring anything more modest. Actually, the pink getup is probably the most modest nightgown you’ve got- you’d anticipated sex. So he gets a pass on that one, but you’re still peeved about the way he won’t leave your head. 
The shower is warm and being clean feels delightful against your slick skin, washing away the sins you’d rubbed into Jake’s thigh, but you’re so disturbed by your dream- or more so it’s subsequent meaning, that you can barely enjoy any of it.
In stepping out of the shower you realize you’d been in such a rush to get in that you’d forgotten to take clothes with you. But if you’re lucky, at least Jake will still be asleep, and you won’t have to endure any-
“Fancy droppin’ that towel, darlin’? Since you got in the shower without me, I figure it’s only fair I get to see what I missed.”
Any teasing. If Jake was still asleep, you wouldn’t have to endure any teasing. But there he is, hair tousled from sleep, eyes slightly bleary, but smirk in full force as he stares at your towel-clad form.
You’d be locked and loaded with a quip back any other day, but the memory of the pleasure writhing through your veins like blood itself at Jake’s hands has thrown you severely off-kilter. Instead you stand there, winded, lost for words as a strange and unexpected surge of tears sting at your eyes.
Jake notices, blinking as the smirk vanishes instantly from his face.
“Hey, woah, that’s- don’t do that. I was just teasing, don’t- don’t do that.”
“I’m not-” You defend uselessly, blinking rapidly as you back towards your suitcase, but Jake’s concern dims into something like disappointment.
He recites, “We didn’t do anything last night. You were shit-faced and you passed out the second you were in bed. I’m not…” He struggles, glancing away from you and towards the wall in thinly-veiled distaste, “I wouldn’t do that.”
You’re almost as stunned by the accusation as he seems. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind at all, but- in another man’s hands, you might not have been safe. You hadn’t felt a sliver of distrust towards Jake, and there’s something strange about that. Would you have felt comfortable going home with Daniel? Perhaps last night, several drinks in, you would have. But now you feel a strange camaraderie with Jake, now he feels familiar and safe and you’re glad he was the one to escort you to bed. You’re not used to respecting him, to relying on him, to letting your guard down around him. But you had, and you had even forgotten that you might not have been safe until he’d brought it up himself, convinced your crying fit is because of some awful thing you think he did to you last night.
You’d much rather use that excuse, but you’ll give credit where credit is due.
“I know,” You admit softly, clutching your towel tight around your body, “I didn’t think- thank you for taking me to bed.”
He doesn’t speak- he doesn’t think he ever could. But he nods, once, face tight and stiff because if it wasn’t it’d be soft. And you’d already shorn deep into his newly unguarded, tender flesh- he doesn’t need more wounds.
“Are we eating breakfast together?” Is your indirect way of asking- nay, demanding that he eat with you as thanks for the night prior without actually asking. Because asking would be crazy, you don’t even like him.
And you don’t want to eat with him, except for the fact that you eat with him near every day, and if you’re not going to be in a candlelight setting, you might be able to convince yourself that you’re not on a sex cruise, and that you’re just eating with your fri- teammate. That you’re just eating with your teammate, and all else can be ignored. Especially your dream.
“‘Was plannin’ on it. Hey, wear your bathing suit under that,” Jake nods at the romper you’ve chosen for the day, “We’re goin’ swimming after breakfast.”
You raise a brow at his tone, “Oh, are we? I was planning on meeting Daniel.”
“Where?”
“He mentioned going to the pizza place for lunch.”
Jake snorts, “Real romantic. Well, I walked by there the other day, and the pizza place is a poolside bar. So, put on that skimpy little bathing suit I saw in your suitcase, and you can swim with me until Danny-boy gets there.”
“I don’t want to swim with you,” You feel a little like a petulant toddler snapping back at him, but it’s true. You don’t want to be splashed and dunked and held down in what will surely prove to be the most stressful time you’ve ever had in a body of water- which is really saying something, because you’d had to eject into the Pacific before. Breakfast is one thing- a thank-you. This is different and you’d rather have a tooth pulled.
“Fine, then, princess. Sit on a lounge chair and read a book. I don’t care, just come with me.” You think this might be an invitation, a genuine hand outstretched amidst the numerous other jabs you’ve taken over the duration of your voyage so far. You meet his eye, but there’s a mischievous glint in them and it’s too late to stop him before he continues, “I’ve gotta keep my lady close, or else there’ll be a swarm of other passengers beggin’ to hang off my arm, and we’ll sink the ship if everyone rushes to one side.”
It’s pathetic to admit that you have nothing better to do than go with Jake. His cockiness creates scenarios that are so easy to refuse- so tempting to reject if only to see the light in his eyes fade into a more manageable dulled hue. Now though, you’re stuck. You’re not willing to spend the entire time on board locked away in your cabin hiding from Jake- you came for the fun and sun, dammit. And being in the sun sounds lovely, and the main character of the novel you’re reading will bring you a welcome respite from Jake until Daniel comes to sweep you off of your feet.
“I am not getting in the water,” You warn, fishing your bathing suit out of your suitcase while keeping a firm hold on your towel, “I am going to sit on a lounge chair and read a book. And you’re going to leave me alone, and do whatever it is you like doing in the pool. Chase those little diving rings, maybe?”
“I’m not six.” Jake wrinkles his nose in distaste, “I use the torpedoes, like a real man.”
Your eyes itch to roll back into your skull until they’re stuck there, and you never have to see his smug face again.
“Your torpedoes, then. Get my book from out of my bag,” You nod towards your purse, “And bring your own towel, because I’m not getting one for you.”
The door drowns out the beginning of Jake’s bitching when it slams behind you, but even in the tiled bathroom you can still hear him speak.
“-prissy today, aren’t you! Y’know, the hunk on the cover of this romance looks a lot like me. And- ohhh,” Jake’s wicked laugh instills fear- real, actual fear in your chest as you rush to get dressed, “This is one of them porn books, ain’t it?”
He’s holding the book like a trophy when you finally step out of the bathroom in your bikini, the way a fisherman would proudly display a 38 pound halibut. It’s got a cowboy on the front that’s wearing a hat similar to the one Jake wears at ‘Honky Tonk Night’ at the Hard Deck, and the female lead is draped over his chest, leaning in for a kiss.
“Wanna roleplay it, darlin’?” Jake moves forward, his free hand reaching for your waist to force you against him like you’re on the cover of your novel, “You could do exactly what it says on the cover, ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.”
You catch his arm instead and use it to give you leverage in your attempt to take back your book, but he’s holding it high over his head, and he’s tall even without his combat boots giving him a good extra inch or two. 
“Daniel’s got a bit of a southern drawl,” You choose to fight with words if you can’t win a battle of heights, and Jake’s bicep tightens in place as he tenses, muscles flexing.
“That boy’s got nothin’ on mine,” Jake tilts his chip upwards- ah, so you’ve hit a weak spot: that precious Texan heritage he boasts about.
“I like his better. It’s subtle, not too in-your-face.” You shrug, and now that Jake’s frozen, buffering, you’re able to reach up and take back your book without him fighting back. But he follows you when you step away, and your back hits the wall of the cabin when he leans forward and down to match your height.
“See that?” He inspects your expression, and even though you’re wide-eyed in bewilderment he finds something satisfying in it - “You like it when I’m in your face.”
Maybe it’s your proximity- the way his face is closer to yours than it was even in your dream last night, or maybe it’s the way he murmurs the words instead of boasting them, like they’re a secret. Something strips you of your ability to fire back, and you share a moment of silence before he pulls away and gathers a set of towels from the corner of the room.
He’s wearing his swim trunks already. You hadn’t noticed. Well, you’d noticed his lack of a shirt, but you hadn’t bothered to check what was below that. You’ve seen him in them before, a beach day with the dagger squad or a pool party for Penny’s birthday, but you’re not sure you’ve ever noticed the faint fish hook outlines on them.
“I can feel you lookin’,” Jake snickers, giving you a rather impressive view of his ass, “I’ll let you squeeze it if you admit Daniel’s not all that great.”
“The only thing I wanna squeeze is your neck, Hangman,” You scoff, hurriedly looking away from his ass and gathering your belongings- key card, phone, book that’s been discarded on the bed, “Now let’s get out of here before I change my mind and lock you out of our cabin.”
“Oh, but you’d be so bored in here without me,” Jake’s croon exudes fake sympathy, “Who would you bicker with all day?”
“Not Daniel.” You purr, grinning mischievously as you head for the elevators, your door clicking shut behind you as Jake nearly steps on your feet, “If I was with Daniel, he wouldn’t be able to talk through all the pussy on his tongue.”
That shuts him up.
The elevator ride is silent, and by the look on Jake’s face, you’d have thought he’d been declared a spare on a mission amongst a group of new recruits. HIs jaw is stone-set, sharp and tight, and his eyes bore uselessly but fiercely into the silver wall as the elevator moves up- something is brewing in that hard head of his.
Finally, some fucking peace and quiet.
Something about the ding of the elevator snaps him out of his funk, and he holds the door open to the breakfast hall for you with his signature shit-eating grin. It’s the same place you’d eaten lunch the day before, and you wish again for Daniel to knock knees with you beneath the table. It had been so cutesy, so intimate, so-
“Here,” Jake plucks two trays off of the stack, one for you and one for him, “I’ll hold it while you load up a plate.”
“I can do it myself,” You insist, snatching the tray from his hands and setting an empty plate on top of it, “I’m not falling for that act, Hangman. You’ll steal my breakfast if I let you hold it.”
“Now that’s not true,” He scolds, scooping eggs onto his plate, “I’ll steal it no matter what.”
The ship’s pancakes look surprisingly well-made, and you’re starting to marvel at how nice the amenities are for the price you’d paid. Maybe you’d been the guinea pig voyage, and they’re testing how feasible this sort of thing really is. 
“Hands off my syrup, Hangman,” You elbow him in the side, bumping him out of line for fresh pastries while you snag one for yourself, “I don’t want your sticky fingers getting all over my book.”
“So you do want me readin’ that thing,” He grins, reaching over you to pluck a chocolate croissant off of the tray, unbothered by your teasing, “I guess I’ll need to get into character. Tell me, how big is he? Anything under nine inches just won’t be realistic for me.”
“Please! I’ve heard things from Rooster,” You laugh, topping your plate off with butter packets, “Four is more like it.”
“You tell Rooster,” Hangman shoots a hand out, stopping you from snagging an empty seat at a table for two, “That he’s gotta stop swapping our measurements. Tell him to keep my name out of his mouth.” He pulls the chair out, clearly expecting you to sit.
Under his fiery, watchful gaze, you sit.
You don’t know what makes you do it; you’ve always felt Hangman’s faux-chivalry was condescending at best. He always seems to be mocking you- let me do it because you can’t, or let me do it because I don’t think you should.
Now it seems more like let me do it because I want to. And for that reason, you’ve obeyed.
Hangman’s terse mood from earlier seems to flicker in and out, but breakfast is pleasantly casual- nothing like your tense candlelight dinner the night before. 
“You’re lucky Phoenix isn’t here,” You raise your brows briefly at Hangman, eyeing the way he’s sprawled out over the bench, “She’d tell you to quit manspreading.”
“I like manspreading,” Hangman grins, thankfully concealing his mouthful of food in the process instead of showing it off, “Let’s everyone know what I’m working with.”
After a quick, fake look at his crotch, you decide, “Nothing?”
He takes the teasing good-naturedly, rolling his eyes and insisting, “You’re gonna be sorry when you find out how wrong you were, darlin’. First time y’see it your eyes are gonna bug out of your head.”
“I’d prefer not to see it at all,” Your nose wrinkles, “I’m perfectly happy with your current state of dress.”
“I know that’s right,” He snickers, “I saw you eyein’ up my tight little swim trunks earlier.”
“I was not.” You snap, but he’s only goaded into being further convinced, “Your back was to me, how could you have possibly known where I was looking?”
“I heard you stop moving the second I bent over,” He winks at you, and it’s a gaudy, grotesque display of cockiness, “You were transfixed, darlin’. One look and you forgot what you were doing.”
“That was because I couldn’t believe how skimpy your legs are,” You speak around a mouthful of pancakes, perhaps not the best etiquette but you’re not trying to impress anyone. “Next time you hit the gym, work on your calves.”
“Skimpy? Skimpy?” He shoves his foot into your lap, forcing you to stare at his exposed calf as you try avoiding the sole of his flip-flop on your bare stomach. You shriek, and you try tamping down laughter that threatens to escape as you attempt to shove him off of you. 
“These things are tree trunks,” Jake insists, and when you finally manage to wrestle his leg off of you he leaves it on your side of the table, his foot resting just beside your own, close enough to touch.
“You want some?” Jake offers you a forkful of scrambled eggs, but you shake your head, leaning away from the fork.
“Fine. Picky.” Jake shrugs, eating the eggs himself, “How come you’ll eat off of Payback’s fork but not mine? You think you’ll get all blushy if our lips touch the same thing?”
“I’m thinking I’ll vomit, not blush,” You correct him, “Payback brushes his teeth every once in a while, so eating off of his fork’s no big deal.”
“Damn, you’re vicious today!” Hangman observes, but he doesn’t settle into the back of the seat like you’d expected him to. It unnerves you when he leans forwards, “I brush my teeth twice a day,” He insists, and this time his antics are a little more intense than hiking his foot into your lap, “See?”
He stands so that he can lean farther over the table, flashing his grin in your face like you’re the lens of a camera he’s modeling for. It’s so forcibly charming, so irritatingly dazzling that leaning away- showing weakness - doesn’t even cross your mind, and you’re stuck staring at his pearly whites mere inches away from them, a sour scowl on your face.
“No cavities in sight,” He drawls, “But if you don’t believe me, you can inspect it yourself. Thinkin’ your tongue might work.”
“You’re a sicko,” You decide, your face blank, if not a smidge downturned as you sit inches away from Jake’s grin in full-force, “Sit down, you’re embarrassing yourself.”
“I’m embarrassing you.” He corrects, sinking back into the plush booth with a hiss of air and the spreading of his legs once more, “I can tell you’re blushin’ over there.”
“Must be an allergic reaction to something,” You sigh morosely, observing your plate, “There’s probably an ungodly amount of chemicals in all of this.”
“Tastes fresh to me,” Jake shrugs, reaching his fork across the table to pick at your fruit, “Give me that.”
“No- not the melon!” You clash your fork against his, an ugly scraping sound created by metal-on-metal as you fight to protect your fruit, “You can take anything else, just not the melon!”
“You can have my melons,” A smooth, melodious voice straight out of a porn intro comes from beside the table, and you and Jake look up in unison to see a woman in stiletto pumps and a skirt standing next to your seats.
Jake barely takes a second to process her bold words, and his face melts like butter into that greasy grin he’s always sporting around the ladies.
“Is that so? Well, thank you darlin’, that’s very kind of you. Might take you up on that if this one keeps holding out for a nobody.”
Jake points his fork vaguely, uncaringly at you, eyes still glued to the woman’s low neckline- her melons are, admittedly, nothing to sneeze at.
You find yourself incapable of speaking, so you take to pulverizing your fruit on your tongue instead of talking to the woman.
Once she and Jake have properly eye-fucked she struts away, and your nose curls to make way for a sneer at the clicking of her heels on the floor.
“What a bitch.” You retort, and Jake’s all-too-pleased with your indignance, “And those fucking heels? Who wears heels to breakfast on a cheap cruise?”
“Hey, I thought you were into all that girls-supporting-girls stuff,” Jake munches on a grape, “Ain’t that a little judgy? Maybe she feels pretty in the heels.”
“Girls support girls’ girls,” You insist, shaking your head disapprovingly, as Jake tries processing the tongue twister, “She was not a girls’ girl. She was trying to take my man!”
“Your man? I’m your man now?” Jake leans forward again, suddenly extremely interested in you rather than Miss Miniskirt, “When did that happen? The second someone else tried snatching me up?”
“No, you’re not my man,” You scoff, fork clattering against your plate, “But when we’re on a sex cruise together as unfortunate roommates, and we’re dining together, conversation flowing, clearly engaged with each other- when you were just leaning across the table asking me to lick your teeth two seconds ago- no girls’ girl would swoop in and try to take you away from me!”
“I think you’re just jealous,” Hangman points that damn fork at you again, and you still in your seat, prickling with annoyance, “I think you’re pretending to be all wrapped up in Daniel so that I go crazy, but it almost backfired on you when she started chattin’ me up. Hell, you called me your man! You can’t have it both ways, Y/N. Either let me go, or make me stay.”
“Go.” You seethe, eyes flashing with anger, with the indignance of being accused of puppetting him. You’ve been on edge this whole voyage, but something about his audacity combined with the sheer mortification of your dream last night means that your mouth is running without a filter. “I’m not pretending anything, Hangman, and- and I’m not going to ‘make you stay’, that’s ridiculous! I’m interested in Daniel. If you really want a woman who swoops in on what looks like a couple, then by all means, have at her. But you don’t get to bitch about Daniel and then act like I’m some controlling monster when I try to stop you from talking to bad ideas.”
“I’m not bitching about Daniel,” There’s a dangerous edge to Jake’s voice, the one that’s typically heard on the tarmac, “I’m trying to-”
“You’re trying to control me!” You accuse, and now it’s you that wields the fork, aiming it violently at Jake.
“I wasn’t done.” Jake snaps, but you don’t care.
You continue over his meager protests, “You are bitching about Daniel, 24/7. You’re trying to knock him out of the way so that you can schmooze me like you schmooze women back home, and it’s not going to work. You use people, Hangman, you hook up with women and then you push them away like they’re pathetic when they try staying with you for longer than a night! But I know you better than they do, and I won’t fall for it. You think I’m dumb? You think I don’t realize how much of a leg up you’d have at work if you got to tell everyone I fell for your little game? That’s why you want it so bad,” You huff, “You’re, like, obsessed with winning now- because I fly with you, and because I’m the only woman who’s ever told you no, you’re going crazy trying to get me to say yes! You are the one freaking out whenever Daniel talks to me! You are the one that’s clinging desperately to the unfortunate coincidence of us being roommates, and you are the one who refuses to let go. You won’t win. You cannot make me stay.”
Jake’s mouth had been open during your vicious speech, ready to fire back in a tone that would have made your skin crawl, but when you finish off, it falls shut. He stares, on the brink of disaster, one slip of the controls away from tailspinning. He’s always been like that: dangerous. 
You don’t give him the option to spin out.
“I’m not hungry anymore. You know what? You can have the fucking melon,” You stand, dumping your remaining fruit unceremoniously onto Jake’s plate as he stays frozen stiff, watching, “Maybe you’ll get lucky and score hers, but I doubt she’ll be interested if she’s not competing with anyone anymore.”
You barely remember to grab your belongings on the way out of the breakfast hall, and you don’t spare Jake another glance as you beeline for the elevators.
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feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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vintagegeekculture · 6 months
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Because she was an intentionally mysterious woman initially only seen in a single episode, and before she got an on-air backstory in the recent streaming series, Star Trek supplementary material developed contradictory information on who - or what - Number One, the female first executive officer of the Enterprise, was. To my count, she has four different, completely incompatible backstories in the comics and novels, and this is absolutely unique in Star Trek, which usually keeps it consistent.
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Peter David, in his New Frontier novels, identified Number One as a long lived immortal human mutant (like Flint from the original series) named “Morgan Primus” who was an early genius in cybernetics and artificial intelligence, which is why the Enterprise computer has her voice. One of the names Morgan Primus assumed to hide her immortality was Morgan Lefler, and one of her daughters was Robin Lefler, Wesley Crusher’s love interest from the Next Generation Series played by Ashley Judd. Robin Lefler did not inherit her mutant ability to heal all injuries.
Alternatively, the DC Star Trek Comics of the early 1980s said that Number One was from an obscure planet of peaceful, open, friendly telepaths who resemble humans exactly, and that she was present at first contact with Starfleet. They explained that her blunt, direct, undiplomatic manner is due to her being from a telepathic culture that values total honesty. This would make her the first telepath on the Enterprise, with Spock and Arex coming later. Her planet was created before the Next Generation, but her species being a peaceful, open, telepathic race resembling Mediterranean humans who are not well known or commonly encountered in the original series era….well, that certainly sounds an awful lot like Betazoids to me. If this backstory is true, she may have been the first Betazoid seen on screen, in much the same way fans generally believe Trelane was either Q or a member of the Q Continuum.
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D.C. Fontana’s only Star Trek novel, “Vulcan’s Glory,” was one of the earliest attempts to give the character a backstory, and was the most consequential long term. The first novel set in the era of the first Star Trek pilot with Captain Pike and a young Spock, "Vulcan's Glory" identified Number One as being an Illyrian, a race of human-like beings who specialize in species wide breeding programs and genetic improvement. This genetic superiority is why she was cool, intellectual, aloof, and a bit arrogant. Her nickname “Number One” came from the fact she was the supreme product of the hyper-competitive Illyrian system, and won at everything from academics to athletics. According to DC Fontana, her actual Illyrian name is impossible to pronounce, so when dealing with humans, she assumed the human name “Una Chin-Riley.” Una of course, being “Number One” in Greek.
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As DC Fontana is such an important figure in Star Trek history and only actually wrote one Star Trek novel in her life, many future materials used the backstory established in “Vulcan’s Glory,” like the David Stern Pike-era novels of the 2010s....but more importantly, the Discovery and Strange New Worlds series, which canonized the “Una Chin-Reilly” name by using it on screen (I remember gasping when Pike called her Una in a Discovery episode, meaning they were going with the Fontana backstory, a detail that may not have been significant to the casual viewer). Since DC Fontana wrote “Vulcan’s Glory” in the 80s, a lot more information was learned about the role of genetic engineering in the Federation, however, and interesting things were done in that series to bring her in line with everything we’ve learned since in Deep Space 9 and Enterprise about augmentation and the society wide prejudice against it. For example, they established that the fact Number One was Illyrian was not public knowledge, but that she pretended to be human her entire life.
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The one person who didn’t see fit to give her a backstory or even a real name was John "Johnny Redbeard" Byrne in his comic series about the Cage era Enterprise, who thought the mystery of the character was the most interesting thing about her, and he was deliberately cagey about any details. To Johnny Redbeard, she was just “Number One.” There was a running joke that every time someone says her actual name, or when we see her personnel file, it was blurred out, or somebody’s thumb was over it, and so on. It was rather like the running joke where Mr. Burns never remembers Homer Simpson's name. Johnny Redbeard loves mystery men and women who don't talk about their past, since that was the characterization he famously gave to Wolverine in his X-Men comics.
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The one detail of Number One's past that is clear is that Number One in Byrne's comics is competent, mysterious, and has mystique, certainly, but she is completely human, without any powers. Byrne always got exasperated that his X-Men co-creator Chris Claremont added fantastical and far out details to the background of X-Men characters (like how Nightcrawler's girlfriend Amanda turned out to be a sorceress) because he felt "some people should just be allowed to be normal." Byrne always said his original idea for Wolverine's "true" backstory was that he was a Vietnam veteran in intelligence who volunteered for bionic experiments that wiped his memory, and disliked the idea he was immortal, and vetoed the very, very early Dave Cockrum idea Wolverine was an actual mutated wolverine who achieved sentience and a human shape (which early X-Men comics hint at). Byrne was reportedly enraged that they gave Moira MacTaggart a mutant power, as he saw her as just being a scrappy Scottish housekeeper.
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Johnny Redbeard didn’t give Number One a past (other than to show she was on the Enterprise's shakedown cruise with Robert April as a rookie officer), but he did give her a future, as he showed an older Number One as a starship commander in the Kirk era (aging gracefully with a white tuft like Tongolele), and later, a flag officer in the Motion Picture era.
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To what extent are these backstories compatible? Well, with what we currently know about Number One, that she hid her true species and status to avoid prejudice, it could be that some of the other versions were tall tales she spread to obscure her true origins. The John Byrne idea she served as an Ensign with Robert April in the Enterprise's very first mission hasn't been confirmed, but hasn't been denied, either. The Peter David "Morgan Primus" backstory is completely incompatible, but perhaps there are some elements to it that are true, like the idea that the early part of her career involved working as a computer engineer in artificial intelligence, which is why the computer has her voice.
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tremendum · 2 years
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where to start 
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(gif not mine) pairing: din djarin x afab!reader (gender not specified, descriptions of afab genitalia)     rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)     requested: yes, here !!! word count: 2.7k  summary:  Din lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start."  warnings:  SMUT. there’s like no plot. teasing, PiV (unprotected), Din has a praise kink, he begs, inexperience, loss of virginity, brief allusion to rough sex if you squint, yall cant convince me Din isn’t a stuttering little mess, riding in the pilot’s seat!!, sliiiight dom!reader, slight discussion of Din being ashamed he’s a virgin, idk what else tbh  notes:  thank u for requesting this! i just wrote it in like 30 mins haha. i hope yall like it i love my space cowboy boyfriend <3  this is unedited. reblogs/comments always motivate me hehe
   [other din fic          din series (be like me): masterlist  ]
★  
you stare at the cold metal in front of you. 
it stares back silently. 
your hand is itching to just go knock, to raise a few inches and rap your knuckles upon its shimmering, textured surface; it'll be so simple. so easy, definitely one of the easier things you've ever done. 
but the conversation that awaits on the other side- well.
that's not so simple. 
"why don't you go over there, Din?"  a glint of beskar as his head whips to you, alarmed. thrown off. a head tilt of irritation, "excuse me?"  a raise of your eyebrows, "oh, sorry, didn't realize we were playing innocent." you jut your chin towards the young woman who stands, twirling her hair and making bedroom eyes at Din from across the bar. jealousy curls up your throat - he'd been staring in her direction since you'd arrived, too. "come on, she's been staring at you the whole time. go- go do your thing." 
"that isn't funny." he mutters, causing the chilled pint of ale between your fingers to sear you as you flush. tough crowd.  "why do you assume I'm joking, hm?" you tilt your head again and he shakes his head. it's painful, the way you and Mando have been dancing around each other for weeks. a brush of a leather hand on the small of your back, a kind chuckle at something you say, your hands soothing over the thick cowl that hides his sore knots - the ones that form in his shoulders from carrying the jetpack - a murmur of your name when you're in danger, the curling of your hand around his arm in crowded public spaces. you're sure it's torture, but it seems neither one of you can make the move. 
"she's not looking at me like- like anything." he dismisses, arms curling over themselves in a cross of defense. you hum a laugh; who wouldn't look at Mando like that? 
"oh, c'mon. jus'go up and talk to her. she's probably dying for a big man like you to toss her around." you elbow him, winking. a slick, regretting coil of envy curls around your stomach as you take in the way his helmet tilts from you back to her; what the fuck are you doing? you silently beat yourself up, cheeks hot with the swirling complacency that befalls you following several drinks of ale. you sound like a complete moof milker as you let yourself encourage Mando to- to what, pursue another woman? 
how does that make sense to your brain?  
there's an echoing thud as Din slams his fist hard on the bartop. you jump, eyes wide as he shakes his head, turning to stalk straight out the doors, leaving you behind in his anger. 
yeah. the wall has never been so daunting before. 
you know you upset him earlier. he's been cooped up inside his bunk the whole night after you returned alone from the cantina, and no matter how much you've tried to ignore it, you know that it's your fault that you've made him angry. 
your fist raises. 
the metal whooshes before you can make contact, though, and your eyes meet the hard chest of beskar before you can take a step back. a soft oh leaves your lips as his helmet tilts microscopically down towards you for a moment; he's pushing hard past you with a fierce silence and without a second glance in your direction. 
"wait!" you call as he disappears up into the cockpit, the silence sterile in the Crest as he stalks out of view. you chew your lip as you scramble to follow him, knowing you at least owe it to him to apologize for what you'd said. 
he's sitting in the cockpit, fiddling with the controls as you soon start to engage in liftoff protocols; a thudding jolt as the Crest lifts off sends you stumbling into the chair as you stare, wide-eyed, shocked at Mando's abrupt behavior. he didn't even warn you that he was preparing your next track. 
you try; you really do. seven different attempts - yes, you counted them - to get him to speak, casually commenting on the smoothness of the Crest after your last maintenance day, asking him if he remembered the coolant you'd forgotten a few cycles ago, telling him about Grogu catching a flying-Banda and swallowing it whole mid-air; stupid shit. 
all you got in response was silence.
a sigh, maybe - his helmet wouldn't turn anywhere near you, and your glare cuts through the glinting on his head as stars race above you. it was just like when you'd first met, agreeing to go with him and work maintenance or grogu-sit when he needed it, and existing in weeks of silent tension, the man surrounded in so many walls that he could be armor-less and still the most impenetrable person in the galaxy. 
he was cold. you'd pushed him back into the shell you'd spent months working to chip away. 
"Din." you say flatly, crossing your arms. he doesn't respond; not even a huff, or a grunt, or a movement of muscle to indicate he heard the word. 
"look, I just- I want to apologize. okay?" you say desperately, shaking your head. but he catches you off guard yet again as he speaks up, voice heavy and more hot than normal; like he's been stewing with his thoughts for far too long. 
"-I don't want some random woman. I don't just sleep with anybody because I think they're attractive." his voice moves through the cockpit in defiance and you sit back in your chair, blinking for a moment. oh.  
you clear your throat, unsure how to approach what he's said; a sick, twisted part of you scowls at his insinuation that he'd found the woman from the bar attractive; but of course he did. she was. and you're unable, still, to deny the throbbing ache of desire that dully spreads through you at the very dim prospect that you are not just a random woman to him.
"I was out of line. I over-stepped." you try again. 
"do you think I'm upset that you teased me back at the cantina?" he clips, taking you off-guard. your brows furrow, tilting your head, "y-yes?" it comes out like a question of your own, in your doubt. 
he sighs. the weight of it smashes you back as you furrow your brows; he will not go into another bout of silence again, you won't let him. no. 
"what is it, Din?" you ask gently, leaning your elbows onto your knees. 
he breathes out, hand twitching by his side. "I just-"
you're not sure what spurs his sudden admission; be it from frustration or a genuine desire to confide in you, his only companion besides a 50-year-old baby. 
"I don't have- I don't have much experience." he admits, voice laced with embarrassment. he sounds much more unsure of himself than normal. "because of the Creed- I have lived differently than others." 
oh. oh.
you flood with emotion, eyes flying wide. "oh, Din-" you feel like you're on fire in embarrassment, shaking your head in regret, "I'm- I didn't even think about that. I shouldn't have-" 
"please," he almost whimpers it, "stop." 
you do. 
he lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, hands on his lap. "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start." 
you nod, throat dry. his composure, the sweet genuine tilt in his voice; your underwear slicks as you wait for him to continue. the air feels... thick with anticipation. 
he's breathing more shallowly, his hands gripping his beskar thighs as he keeps your gaze. "I don't...know how to get what I want from..." he stops, his helmet fully facing you. your words are dead on your tongue as you stare at him; your heart thunders as you beg him to say it. 
"from you." he finishes, body still as he awaits your reaction. 
heat spreads through your entire body as you stare at him, fire licking your fingertips. he wants- he wants you. he wants you. 
you swallow your fears in one sentence, "have you considered... asking?" 
your voice has it's desired effect. his chest almost shivers as he lets out a soft breath, hands clenching as you stand from your seat to walk, slowly, towards his chair. you're more than thankful you'd had the thought to change from your hunting clothes; your shorts, breezy and loose, sit barely below the curve of your ass and you don't miss the way Din's helmet moves with the sway of your hips.
his helmet tilts to stare up at you when you set your hands on each side of his arm rests, leaning in close. you can smell his scent as you smile sweetly, "I would say yes, you know." you whisper next to his helmet as he lets out a strangled noise. 
it’s a split second before he shakily groans. "I want you." he finally gasps, "I need you." 
you let out your own shaky breath as arousal floods your underwear, arousal swirling in your stomach. "I want you too, Din." you press a soft kiss to his forehead, the cool beskar tingling your heated, desiring lips. 
his hands remain clenched until you slide yourself onto his lap, settling yourself to straddle him in the pilot's chair, a fantasy you've imagined almost every night since you've met the man. you don't even suggest removing the beskar; he deserves to be comfortable as possible, and you flush when you realize you like the sharp bite of the metal on your bare skin. 
your hands explore the long, sturdy planes of his chest and neck, over the ruched material, threads loose under the tips of your fingers, armor cold. you can feel him under your aching heat; he's already semi-hard, his breath falling from his helmet in breathy grunts as you slowly, gently rock against him. "you can touch me, Din." 
it's like he's snapped to life; hands fly up to your hips, tugging your chest impossibly close as he mutters into your ear, "fuck, cyare." 
it starts slow; your bodies glued to each other, exploring every inch you'd desire to discover before, the blue-electric lights of hyperspace coaxing the two of you into a dreamlike state. 
but he gets desperate quick. 
he's groaning, straining hard and thick against his flightsuit; as your hand falls to palm him as you rock your clothed clit over the material, you're momentarily concerned that if you aren't warmed up before taking him, he may not fit. "you're so big, Din." you whisper as your lips flutter along the seam of skin exposed between his helmet and cowl. he lets out a moan of your name, one hand pulling you by your back towards him, the other digging into the plush of your ass, sneaking under the fabric of your sleep shorts. 
"cyare, please-" he gasps, voice begging, "need to- need to be inside you." 
you smile, kissing the hot skin of his pressure point, tongue slinking up as his heart pounds. "there, that's how you ask, Din." 
you press another kiss to him, your hands moving to undo his flight suit, pulling his thick cock out; he ruts upwards with a sharp moan, hand digging into your ass so hard it may leave marks. 
pre-cum leaks out of him in beads; he's so goddamn hard, whimpering at your touch. you feel your slick dampen your thighs through your underwear, shivering with desire. 
you pull your underwear to the side swiftly, rising onto your knees as he stables your hips up above him. his chest sputters, grunting as you start to move your hips, teasing him with your velvety wet cunt. 
broken grunts of Mando'a leave his helmet, his fists tightening as his helmet falls back to thud against the back of his pilot's chair. "please, mesh'la, please." he mutters. 
you can't wait any longer; soon you're shifting, prodding yourself over his head, gently taking just a bit of him inside you. your gasps are in tandem at the tight, warm stretch; "Din, y'gonna fill me up so well." 
he moans at that, hands rising to hold your shoulders, his thick, muscled arms swallowing your frame as he hums, "fu-uck, n-need you mesh'la." 
you nod, your breath fogging up his helmet as you desperately shift your hips, preparing to take him into you. and then slowly, you let your legs relax slightly. 
"M-Maker-" Din stutters, the weight of his helmet dropping onto your shoulder as you slowly lower yourself; his cock, thick and warm, eases you open gently, the pain of his stretch curling your toes in your boots. “yes,” you hiss, swallowing dryly as your hands, stabilizing themselves on his neck and shoulder, grip tight. 
you have to ease yourself down onto him; his hips buck up harshly, as if he can't help himself, his tip sheathing so far into you that it prods at your tender cervix, causing you to yelp in pleasure. 
"s-sorry." he mutters, hands shaking as he holds on to you, "can't-f-fuck, it feels so- you feel so warm. y'so tight. ’m not gonna-" 
you nod desperately, starting to move yourself, fucking him slow as his hands hold you. 
"feels good. you're so good, you're so good for me." you mutter, causing his cock to twitch deep inside you. he moans loud as you mutter praises, his cock so deep; dragging through your walls, hitting an angle which nudges that delicious spot inside you.
a groan of your name has you smiling as you suck a mark dark onto his neck; you start to build up the pace, the simmering arousal soon spurring you to chase the building pleasure. 
"yes, yes." you nod, peppering kisses over his throat, nails clawing to expose more of the forbidden, golden skin. you feel him clench below you; his hard, cold thighs tense under the beskar, the muscles of his abdomen flexing under the protection as the lewd noise of your connection echoes through the cockpit. 
he's close, you know it. 
you want him to cum, you want him to be consumed by it; you want him to consume you, you want to consume him. you tug him as you maintain your pace, legs burning as you chase your own orgasm. 
"y'gonna cum, Din?" your voice is laced sultry and aroused, fogging his helmet as he nods, broken moans of ecstasy leaving his helmet. "yes, f-fuck- I-" 
"yes, cum, baby." you mutter, his hips soon spurring to thrust up and meet your own movements, the pet name making him shiver. you let out a yell, cracking with pleasure as he holds you immediately to you, his whimpers echoing with your moans. 
he finishes with a moan of your name and a slam of his fist hard onto the console next to you; all of the lights in the cockpit shut off at his action but you can barely notice as his orgasm paints your channel, hot and thick. you're out of breath as he rides out his high, ropes of cum filling you. 
he twitches inside of you as you stutter to a stop, your wetness causing a stain on his flightsuit below you. 
his head lifts from your shoulder, voice wrecked, chest panting. "you didn't- you didn't finish." he sounds confused, embarrassed. 
you flush at his statement - he just had sex for the first time, and is disappointed you didn't cum? you let your hands rub soothing circles over the parts of his shoulders that aren't covered with armor. 
"n-no, Din- that was 'bout you." you sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the contoured beskar of his cheek. "we have next time." you ensure him, gasping as his hips still rock up into you gently, his softening cock pushing his cum deeper inside of you; holding it there. 
keeping him inside you. 
he stiffens, head rising to look at you. "no." he mutters, his hands dragging down your spine, catching on your hips, sliding back up to grope your breasts. "show me how to make you cum now. please, mesh'la." 
another rush of arousal floods you, shivers running down your body as you grin with a flush. resisting a loud moan of desire, you nod gently.  "okay." 
requests open
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stealingpotatoes · 1 month
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some ppl very kindly loredumped abt the organa-solo kids for me so gonna put that + responses below the cut!! ↓
@erkhyan asked:
Don’t mind me, just dropping some Organa Solo kids lore, hopefully summarized enough. Anakin: both motivated and intimidated by the fact that his name was supposed to redeem that of his grandpa. Had his grandpa’s qualities (excellent pilot, great warrior, very strong in the Force) but none of his negative trait. Traumatized by being unable to save Chewie. Died a hero at age 16 during a successful mission to destroy a Jedi-killing weapon. Jacen: a big, empathetic goof as a teen, but was traumatized by the war that killed Anakin. The war and the trauma of Anakin’s death turned him into an introspective monk who went to learn weird non-Jedi Force powers. Returned, fathered a secret daughter, fell to the Dark Side because the Force told him that every timeline in which he’s not a Sith ends badly for his daughter. Became a Sith Lord by killing mara jade Skywalker. Eventually died when he found himself having to choose between saving his daughter from an Imperial plot, and dodging his sister’s lightsaber. Jaina: best pilot, best lightsaber user, best warrior, earned the nickname of Sword of the Jedi. Unfortunately, people mostly remember the fact that she was stuck in the world’s most annoying love triangle for two decades in-universe. And that time she processed the trauma of Anakin’s death by trying to seduce her Jedi Master. And that time she was in a bug hivemind that tried to solve her love triangle with a sexy threesome. And that time she went to train under Boba Fett so that she could kill Jacen in Luke’s stead. And also because the Jedi Order finally recognizing that she should have been a made a Master years ago, was almost the LAST thing that happened in the Legends continuity. Heavily implied that her husband would have eventually become Emperor (but a good one) if the continuity had been allowed to go on.
CHEWIE DIED??????????? also christ thats a lot to put on poor lil anakin jr-- ALSO AGAIN. POOR LEIA. HASNT SHE BEEN THRU ENOUGH (poor han too but LEIA)
WHY ARE THERE MORE STAR WARSES!!! LEAVE THEM ALONE!! a secret daughter hi i love those but AGAIN. POOR LEIA. A SITH. FR HE KILLED MARA JADE WHAT???????????? oh my god.
i support jaina's turboslaggery she's been thru so much also WHAT potential emperor husband????????? wow ok legends gets wilder n wilder
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@novastargalaxydesigns asked:
I saw your Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin from Legends! And as someone who freaking adores that trio, I'd love to help point out a few things! In Legends of the Force, Jacen starts to affiliate himself with the Dark Side with his cousin, Ben, as his apprentice. Anakin was killed before the book, The Joiner King, and I didn't get the book that he was killed off in, but if I remember correctly, it was told in The Joiner King that he was killed during a mission as a fighter pilot. Jaina, in Legends of the Force I believe if I remember correctly, she gave up being a Jedi to be a pilot. I don't have all of the Legends of the Force books so I may be a bit spiffy on a few things. But we cannot forget Chewbacca's nephew, Lowbacca aka Lowie, and Jacen's childhood and teen hood crush, Tenel Ka whom is a princess and he accidentally cut her hand off with his new lightsaber during the book Young Jedi Knights Lightsabers. And Zekke who went to the dark side in the series Young Jedi Knights (I only got the first 3), but was redeemed. Anyone please correct my nerdiness if I'm wrong. But anygays, you has been educated by a fluffy bean. Had a lovely day!
JACEN CORRUPTS LUKE'S KID??????? HUH?????? CAN THE SKYWALKERS NOT CATCH LIKE. ONE SINGLE BREAK FROM THE DARKSIDE EVER???????? PLEASE
sorry all i can think w the tenel ka thing is:
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@m0th-person asked:
To follow up on the solo kids ask, Jaina had a weird love life. Her love interest that she eventually married was Jagged Fel. He is the son of the former baron of the empire , Sootir Fel, and Syal Antilles-Fel (Wedge Antilles sister) . (a picture I found on Wookieepedia when he was imperial head of state, the white streak in the hair seems to be genetic) Jag grew up in Thrawn’s empire of the hand (and was grown up with the chiss expectations, that’s literally the second quote on his wookieepedia page)
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he had 3 out of his 5 other siblings die. He eventually became the imperial head of state (he first lost to his rival political candidate for the role because abeloth messed with it) and flash forward to the legacy comics, his descendants have revamped the imperial remnant into the Fel Empire. It’s mostly believed that his descendants are also Jaina’s because both Roan fel and his daughter empress Marasiah Fel are both force sensitive. And Jacen Solo’s descendant , Ania Solo, says she’s a distant cousin of Marasiah. (Roan)
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(Marasiah and her love interest) ( the imperial knights were grey Jedi that served the Fel empire) — and in legends Han actually had a family tree (ancestors, specifically, Jonash e solo (who was Corellian royalty and the admiral-prince during the old republic time period)) , and him and Jagged fel’s father used to rivals in the imperial academy. Darth Vader attended his class graduation and I only find this funny because Han became his son-in-law.
jaina was rlly living that booktok enemies to lovers life back in the 90s huh. go girl i love her and support her weird love life decisions so much
omg go han having fancy royalty ties <3 see hanleia IS politically advantageous
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darthfighter · 3 months
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the warmth
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Chapter Four of Your Shadow Series
warnings: violence, death, pining, & a sprinkle of smut
summary: as you venture on your first mission with qimir, your feelings for him stand between you two and near death experiences cause tension between both of you
word count: 4.0k
authors note: thanks for all the support and feedback on this fic!! it really keeps me motivated :’) as promised.. this is build up for smut.. next chapter is posted right now as well
part three here !
Training with Qimir began to chip your vulnerability away like paint on a rusty ship.
Over time through the two weeks you had been training with him, you both grew closer. First he opened you up mentally by growing your thoughts to new mindsets, then he trained you combat wise. Growing physically closer to him. He’d often have a grip on your arm from blocking you. Maybe here and there he had been pressed up against your back as his arm wrapped around you when you let your guard down. Most of the time he would tackle you to the floor and look down to you below him. The action would only last mere seconds. Deep down, in your most non Jedi like feelings Qimir has been teaching you, you wanted the seconds to last longer.
This morning as you prepared for the training day ahead of you, Qimir stopped you.
“You’ve done enough. Today will be your first test, we’re heading to Jedha.”
Now you waited for the two of you to arrive on the big moon as you flew through hyperspace. You sat in the cockpit beside Qimir. The flashes of blue reflecting off of your complexion, Qimir gets to see your blue skin as he turns his pilot chair towards you to start conversation.
“It’s quite fitting for you to have a purple lightsaber.” You didn’t bring your lightsaber today. The decision of course made you protest on why you’d be on your first test with no lightsaber, but Qimir made a good point that an ex Jedi with a purple saber alongside a “Sith” with a red one would bring quite the attention. You didn’t disagree with that. So you joined today's mission saberless. “Most complicated Jedi have it.” Qimir finishes.
“You calling me complicated?”
Qimir raises his shoulders a few inches to shrug, and lightly brings his eyebrows up. “Why do you think I took you in? It’s one of the main reasons.”
You are comfortable with Qimir at this point. From the time spent together making his answer less of a threat and rather a compliment. With this comfortableness, you tease. “Is that the only reason you let me in?”
He stays silent.
You grew too comfortable, you thought. It makes your heart escalate at a higher speed and your body gets hot. Embarrassed.
He turns his chair back to the front to face the beams of light behind the windshield as you nervously fidget with your hands in your lap.
The jump out of hyperspace makes you shift into your seat making your back press up against the chair. When you look up, all you see is orange.
You smile to yourself. It resembles home.
Walking off the ramp, you felt pure adrenaline. Your boots imprinted themselves to the sand sinking you in just a tad. You remember as a kid, running as you played and feeling the sand below you slow you down.
Qimir stands beside you and doesn’t move. Neither does he say anything. The ramp closed from behind you both while you waited for him to take initiative. Nothing ever came.
You look towards him and see his lip twitch before he finally says something. “You are taking the lead today.” Your eyes grow wide while your heart falls onto the soft sand.
“What do you mean? I have no idea why we’re here?”
“Me neither.” You look towards Qimir’s expression. Amusement. That’s what his face said. His face held a smile growing his smile lines and his Adam's apple shifted as he held in his chuckle. He softly says your name and continues “All I know is you’re gonna use your instincts. Walk towards whatever calls to you. Follow whoever captivates you. Walk into wherever that pulls to you. Let the force do what it does best. Feel.”
Your eyes set on different parts of his expression, trying your best to read him. When you finally conclude he’s serious, you look ahead. You see the city of Jedha. You feel a sort of gravitational pull to it. Like being near a black hole, you sink into the abyss.
The abyss being The Holy City.
While walking towards the city, Qimir educates you a bit on where you are headed. How the city was known for its spirituality. Most come to this planet to find purpose, to find meaning. He explained how some believe that the Jedi and Jedha are intertwined. Roped together. Though you weren’t coming here to achieve the Jedi way.
The closer you got to the city, the more you tried to let yourself feel. Eventually as you made it to the crowded streets of Jedha, you became overwhelmed.
Jedha Pilgrims roamed almost every other corner, children running in groups, and droids left and right. You put one foot in front of the other and decided to stop. You close your eyes and you feel Qimir’s warmth beside you. Waiting for your next move.
The force tells you to take a right on the next alley way, and you do. Walking in that direction feels right, natural. Like you were supposed to come this way.
You continued this initiation repeatedly. Going left and right in different rotations.
Qimir stayed a ways behind you. Watching you, studying you. His hands were held behind his back as he walked behind you like your own personal shadow.
As you make your way through the busy streets of Jedha, you feel an instinct to stop. Your continuous pace ends. Then, a feeling flows through you like a gust of wind. You look towards the mental breeze which reveals a cantina. Music booms from the inside and all kinds of people and different species walk in and out of the entrance. The force is telling you to walk inside.
You look behind your shoulder to see Qimir’s eyes set on you with a piercing gaze. He’s focused on your actions and it makes you nervous. Especially intimidated. To make your feelings not get overwhelmed at his gaze, you look forwards again and start to walk inside.
Your pace walking inside feels choreographed. As you walk wherever the force is taking you, it buzzes your insides. Feeling like you're getting electrified from the inside out.
Something is burning as you walk in. Your eyes scan the dim cantina, and your mind wonders why you were called inside this place.
You decide to place your forearms on a high table as you inspect the room. Qimir joins you and stands beside you.
To your right you see people swarming a table as they play a game and bet on whatever amount of credits laid on the table. Directly across from you, you see a couple clearly on date. The man going on a tangent about Maker knows what as the girl sips her drink. Finally, to the left of you, you see four individuals with dark clothing. Something about their expression says they are here for something. The force feels dark as you look at them. Looking at them feels like it burns your eyes like you are looking directly into the suns.
“Can I get you two anything?” A waitress with a tray in her hands comes forward to you and Qimir. Before you get the chance to speak, he swipes the opportunity to respond out your mouth.
“Ah yes! Do you happen to have any drinks that are not too strong?” Qimir turns to you and puts his hand on your forearm. “Don’t want her taking care of me like the other day, right?”
You look back at Qimir and see a whole other person. A person you are not used to. It feels and looks like he is wearing a mask. Though, he resembles the person he pretended to be from when you first met him. He was playing his alias. You decide to play along.
“Yeah.. Don't want you getting sick like that again.”
“I understand, I’ll bring the best option for that.”
The waitress turns her back and heads to the bar.
Qimir shifts a bit closer to you, committing to the role. His hand still rests above your skin, and he brushes his thumb along your arm affectionately. As he does this, it begins to pull you out of the trance you have been keeping on the forefront of your mind.
“What’s calling you?” He asks, low, and in a different tone than what he was previously doing.
Your mind shifts out of your thoughts from his touch, and resumes onto the dark force ahead of you. You look over to the suspicious people without saying anything, making Qimir look that way. He hums from seeing what you are insinuating. He feels the heat off of them too.
“Here you go. Enjoy.” She brings a small glass of a drink. It’s blue and cold. She turns around and continues her job before you can thank her.
The two of you stand and resume to play your part and Qimir slowly drinks his beverage.
Eventually one of the suspicious men ahead of you walks into the back of the cantina. Going into a dark hall. Immediately Qimir gulps the drink down his throat and begins to hold his stomach while covering his hand over his mouth. He’s playing the part. He grabs ahold of your hand and takes you to the back where the man had gone. The waitress looks at you both and you apologetically give her a smile. Clearly meaning the drink wasn’t for him.
As you turn the corner Qimir shifts the way he had been holding himself. Before he was slouching and hiding behind his hair in his face, now he stood tall and confident.
His hand was still intertwined with your as you both ventured out in these halls, looking for the man. Your eyes pay attention to a bright light illuminating through a doorway. Qimir looks back at you, and you look at him. You finally let go of his hand and feel the warmth of him leave your skin, and start to walk towards the room.
As you turn the corner, you see the dark cloak of a man giving a bag of spice to a younger boy who has a worrisome expression painted on his face.
“Turn around, and mind your business.”
His words don't affect you. You continue to scan the younger boy. You feel the fear residing in him infect you. You feel a wave of protectiveness. It resembles the protectiveness you had for your brother.
You softly walk to him and the man shifts his body in anger.
“I suggest you leave.” He spits a threat into the air.
Your face grows soft to comfort the scared boy in front of you. You sense the uneasiness off of him, and decide to comfort him with the force by getting inside his head, and speaking. “Leave. And don’t come back.” The choice of words can seem threatening, but your soft tone makes it sound reassuring.
Without a second thought, the boy books it out of the room. The man yells “What about our deal!”
Now, the man looks at you with an angered gaze. “I don't know who you think you are.” His chest grows big in anger. He’s threatening you, and doubles it by pointing his blaster between your eyes.
The tension in the air grows thick. You’re defenseless. Though, Qimir stayed behind you.
You see the man's expression grow harsher and sharper. He’s about to pull the trigger, but before he does. His face grows red. At first you believe it's from his fiery anger, but you turn around to see Qimir holding out his hand. Force choking him. The more time passes, the more the man grows weak. He lets go of his blaster and it clashes with the floor. His breaths grow ragged and his hands reach towards his throat. His knees hit the floor, and he passes out. No longer breathing.
Your breath begins to quicken. The man is dead below you. Inches away from your shoes. You start to wonder how long it will be until his body will grow cold like your brother.
Qimir snaps you out of your wave of panic and grabs ahold of your hand, pulling you out of the room. Before you leave the room you pull yourself out of his grip and walk back towards the man, taking the blaster off the floor. You walk back to Qimir and let him take your hand again.
The both of you stomp down the hallway hand in hand. Eventually, the waitress who served you both comes around the corner in front of you with a worried expression “Are you feeling alright?”
Then, one of the other four men that were in the cantina previously shouted behind you. He aims his blaster at you both and fires. Before it can hit you, Qimir pulls you of the way with your hand and wraps his arms around you. However, the blaster hits the woman instead and she immediately falls to the floor.
Anger. Fire. Heat.
You feel strong. Powerful.
Anger bubbles itself in your chest and you want to avenge her.
Without a second thought, you raise your blaster and fire at the man. He falls to the floor.
“C’mon. We need to get out of here.” Qimir orders.
You start to walk towards the back of the hallways in the hopes to find an exit, rather than leaving through the front and creating countless witnesses.
As you turn a corner, another man attacks Qimir. Qimir immediately blocks it and lets go of your hand. You stand unmoving while Qimir blocks the other mans attacks. Even sometimes swiftly moving out the way with the force. While your eyes are set on Qimir a man comes up from behind you and wraps his arms around you. Sending you in a headlock. Your guard was down.
Next thing you know, bright red illuminates through the room. Shining against the walls. Qimir stabs the man with his saber. His eyes set on you, at first he has a worrisome expression painted on him, but then immediately turns into anger. He sees the man aiming his own blaster on your temple, with his finger on the trigger.
The man orders you to drop your blaster, and you do so.
“One move and I'll blow her head off.” The man orders.
Qimir stayed still as his saber rested in his hand, illuminating light and a vibrating sound echoing in the room.
It’s a standstill. Until Qimir swifts his hand with the force and it pushes the blaster out of the man's hand. Also with the force, Qimir yells at you in your head. “Duck!”
You pull your body down and feel the heat of the lightsaber sway above your head. Qimir had thrown his lightsaber to the man and it sliced his head off his neck. You hear the thud behind you, but don't dare to look.
Qimir lifts you from the floor and takes you out from the exit you've been meaning to come out of this whole time.
As you make it outside, the sky is orange. Orange from the suns setting as well as the insane amount of dust in the air.
A sandstorm was on the way.
“We need to make it to the ship before it gets worse.”
You nod your head in agreement. The two of you make it through the busy stress while being interlinked. As much as you enjoyed Qimir’s hand in yours, it made logical sense. With Qimir’s quick steps as well as making sure not to get lost, it was a good idea.
Eventually the two of you made it out of the city, now walking in a field of sand with mountain terrains around you. Qimir had landed his ship outside The Holy City to be smart and not bring attention to you both. This now backfired on you both meaning the walk to your ship was longer than you needed and the middle of a sandstorm.
The more you walked the more you shielded your eyes from the sand. Your mouth began to ingest the sand and would crack as you bit your teeth.
“Qimir! We won't make it!” You shouted through the sandy wind, “We need shelter!”
He doesn’t answer, and instead keeps walking.
The sand ends up getting so bad you can’t even open your eyes anymore. So you let Qimir take the lead. You trusted him with each step you took, following him while intertwined with his hand.
Eventually you feel the gust of wind grow weaker. Weaker until it is no more.
You open your eyes to see a dimly lit cave. There are remnants of a past campsite with sheets of cloth in different areas as a makeshift bed. Rocks in a circle for a campfire, though there was nothing to start one with, and empty bottles scattered around the cave. This was clearly a hangout spot.
You initiate letting go of his hand first as you wander around the cave, inspecting it. It may be empty, but not quiet. Wind howled towards the exit with a sheet of orange dust covering the distance beyond.
Looking back at Qimir, his stature is still. Broad.
“Let me guess, you used the force to find this place?” He doesn't answer you back. Instead he stays silent as he sits on one of the thin makeshift beds. His arms wrapped around his legs as they are bent, and his head bows, making his hair fall to his face.
He seems mad at you. Although you don’t know what for. So you speak your mind. “I did everything you asked me to.”
Silent.
You puff out air as frustration starts to take effect. You rest your hands on your hips. “If you're mad about the sandstorm it’s gonna go away eventually. We just have to wait-” Suddenly Qimir rises to his feet, fast.
“I'm not mad about the sandstorm.” He says, firmly, and showing hints of contrite. “You let your guard down.”
You look into his eyes and see he is serious. This makes you laugh lightly. Immediately he gets offended by this as you laugh in his face.
“You give me my first test with no weapon? And you expect it to go smoothly? I was almost considered useless compared to you! You have your saber Qimir.”
He raises his hand in the air to make his point, “The reason I didn't have you bring it is to not bring attention to yourself.”
“Then why do you get to bring yours?”
“Because I'm sure of myself! Once you are seen with me with your saber as well, you’ll become a target too. You need to decide if this is the life you wanna live.”
Your voice speaks in a pitch lower than before, “You could’ve just asked me if I wanted that.”
Silence fills the air. The way you look at him, answers that you want this life. You want to be alongside Qimir. You have never felt more yourself until you met him.
This seems to bring the tension down. You decide to sit down on a bed across from Qimir. He stays standing. He holds himself like he is impatient. Clearly something is on his mind.
“You could’ve died.” Qimir says, sternly. He sounds so serious your heart drops. He turns around to look towards the exit of the cave. Seeing dust brush past the exit. “I didn’t search for you for so long to lose you like that.” He mumbles. Though the wind made it difficult for you to hear. You only hear just a few words. The words being, search, long, and you.
Qimir doesn't turn around to continue the conversation, only keeps his back facing you. Silently. You lay down on the uncomfortable bed and turn away, facing the opposite way. The adrenaline from before started to take effect and make you tired. You felt your limbs melt into the floor and your brain grow quieter. You drift into sleep.
You open your eyes and it’s pitch black. Though it is so dark you can't tell if your eyes are closed or open, you still hear the wind howl in the distance. It hasn’t left. You frown your eyebrows as you can’t see around you, wondering where Qimir is. You can’t see anything, but you know you can if you want to.
Just as Qimir uses The Force as he can barely see through his helmet, you decide to focus exactly like that. You sit up and close your eyes. Reaching out to The Force. You focus on your breathing, making it steady and firm. You look out and feel. You feel warmth. Heat radiates to the right of you, as if a fire was lit right next to you. Your hand reaches out towards the flames, and you're met with Qimirs arm.
“What? What’s wrong?” He reacted, softly.
You shake your head side to side. “Nothing. Just didn’t know where you were.” Your hand leaves him and your skin feels warmed up as you take your hand away. You lay your back down onto the floor once again, and blink repeatedly and it looks like you aren’t even blinking from how dark it is.
Tension is in the air. So thick you could choke on the air. You swallow from nervousness and close your eyes in the hopes to fall back asleep.
After a couple of minutes of attempting to, you feel the fire grow closer. The flame starts to reach you, and you feel Qimir’s touch alongside your arm, caressing it.
Your breath hitches in your throat from the unexpected lingering touch. Qimir can’t hear how ragged your breathing became from the wind in the distance. Before he moves any more of his touch, he talks to you through the force.
“Do you feel the warmth too?” He finishes by saying your name.
You're speechless. You can't muster any words out of your mouth, let alone your brain. Although you don't want his touch to end, so you reciprocate it. Your hand on the arm he's touching reaches towards his chest. You rest it on his heart, feeling his heart bang against your palm.
He takes this as a yes to his question and positions himself in between you, and he does it so slowly. Your hands now plant themselves on his chest, and roam over his broad shoulders. His arms steady themselves beside each side of you. His thighs glue to yours and don't separate. Qimir lowers his chest until you can feel his face inches away from yours. He lingers his lips next to your ear instead of your lips, and speaks.
“When you think of desire, what do you feel?”
You sigh so loud next to him it moves his long hair next to his face. Your heart has never raced this hard in your life. You feel yourself shift below him, inpatient. Your hands that have rested on his shoulders now reach his chest, and you squeeze his shirt in your palms.
Even though your eyes remain open in the hopes to see Qimir, you never do, but you feel him move on top of you. He gets closer to you, instead of holding himself with his palms, he rests on his forearms.
Both of your chest heave next to each other in want. Resembling like you need to breathe each other in like air.
His right arm lifts, and you feel his warm touch rest on your cheek. He cups your cheek with his hand to finally know where your face is laid. He can navigate a bit better now in this pitch black abyss.
Qimir’s nose brushes yours, and you close your eyes, waiting for the inevitable kiss the two of you will share, but it never comes. He’s waiting. For you. He wants to know you want this. As it is considered to be an action Jedi forbid. Qimir doesn’t know how committed you really are.
You show him how much you want this by crashing your lips to his, feeling both of you kiss in sync. First, it's slow, and soft. But as more kisses were shared, the more hungry you both get.
chapter five here !
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inlovewhithafairytale · 6 months
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01 x 01 Pilot part 1
"You're waiting in the car" is the first thing Dean says when he parks the '67 Chevy Impala in front of the apartments where their brother lived.
Yn scrunched up her nose and furrowed her eyebrows "dude. Why?"
"Cause I say so"
"Why do you get to see him before me? Its not fair" Yn says not backing up as her oldest brother got out of the car.
"Just stay in the car" Dean says slamming the car door shut behind him and making his way to the apartments.
The 15 year old leaned back against the car seat crossing her arms over her chest with a pout "not fair" she mumbled to herself.
****
Yn had nodded off to sleep resting her head against the car window as she waited for her brothers hoping that Sam would go with them.
"Why did you even leave her in the car?" Sam asked Dean as he walked next to him to the parking lot.
"She was sleeping" Dean lied. Truth be told, he didn't want Yn to get her hopes up to Sam coming, he knew that she missed their brother horribly and had cried herself to sleep when he first went away to Stanford.
Yn woke up to her brothers voices and the sound of the cars trunk being open. She grinned widely when she heard Sam's voice and quickly opened the car door and rushed to Sam jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly as she let out a series of happy squeals.
"Sammy I missed you so fucking much" she said as Sam laughed hugging her tightly back and giving her a spin before setting her back on the ground.
"I missed you so much too Yn. Wow, you've grown so much!" Sam looked her up and down a smile on his face as he looked at his little sister.
"Yeah. She turned 15 two months ago" Dean cut in a with an edge to his words.
"Dean. I know" Sam answered glaring slightly at his brother.
"But that doesn't matter. We're here" Yn cut in giving Dean a reproach in her look, turning back to Sam "so...are you coming with us to search for dad?" She asked him eyes begging him to come.
"Yes, but i have to be back by Monday" came Sam's reply as he ruffled her hair up a bit.
Yn pouted a bit at his words "oh well I guess"
"Yn, get back in the car" Dean told her.
"Why?" She asked turning to him eyebrows furrowed.
"I want to talk with Sam and you're on the way. Car. Now" Dean said closing the back of the car.
Yn have a dramatic sight "fine...." she muttered and got back in the car arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. When she walked behind Dean she stuck her tongue out at him making Sam stifle a laugh.
***
Dean knocked on the car window of the backseat startling Yn awake who sat up from the seat rubbing her eyes "what? Where are we?" She said groaning as she opened the car door.
"On our way to Jericho right now on a gas stop. Go to the bathroom" Dean said handing her a bottle of pear juice and a bag of cheese puffs "breakfast" he said simply and turning to Sam who was sitting shotgun he gestured to the other bag of chips he was holding"breakfast?"
Sam scoffed "no. How do you even give that to Yn?"
"Eh. I'm used to it." Yn said shrugging as Dean glared at his brother. Yn out her bag of chips and bottle of juice down on the leather seat and got out of the car stretching "I'm going to the bathroom" she said groaning a bit and walking past Dean into the small gas stop.
"How do you even buy stuff? Still on the credit card schemes?" Sam asked knowingly.
"Well, hunting isn't exactly a paying job" Dean shrugged as he walked to the other side of the car and got into the drivers seat.
"What names did you use this time?"
"Bert Afrahiam and his loving kids Hector and Evangeline Afrahiam" came the smug reply.
Sam gave a snort and a shake of his head turning his attention back to the cassette collection box Dean had "dude. You need to update your cassette collection. Black Sabath? Metallica? Ac/Dc? Who even listen to those anymore?"
"House rules Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole" Dean said taking one of the cassettes and putting it on the radio.
"Sammy it's a chubby 8 hear old. Its Sam."
"Sorry. Can't hear you. Music's too loud" Dean said as he turned the music up, back in black playing loudly through the speakers.
The backseat door opened and Yn slipped in wincing slightly at the loud music. "Dude. Lower it down a little"
"House rules booger driver picks the music and-" Dean start again as he drove away from the gas station.
"Yeah but backseat gets to lower the music. Tune it down a bit, I've got a headache" Yn said rolling her eyes a bit at him
Dean complies and puts the volume down just a little.
Sam turns to her a bit of concern flashing through his face "you've got a headache?"
"No. But I'll get one if Dean keeps putting the music so loud"yn answered
Dean rolled her eyes at her through the rear view mirror "just eat your vegetables"
"Yeah dad..." yn said mockingly as she opened her bag of cheese puffs and started eating.
***
Part two ... Flashbacks.a.k.a. younger years before season 1
if any of you have any ideas I am all ears <333
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intheorangebedroom · 10 months
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Tonight you belong to me
Series, ongoing
Summary: He comes to you every Friday, in a shady motel on the outskirts of town. 
Week after week, under the crushing weight of his body, you learn to find yourself. Week after week, under the reverence of your touch, he allows himself to heal. Why can’t this last forever, when you’re so good to each other?
Set a few months after the TF events. 
Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC fem!Reader Written in reader format but Reader is an OFC. There are sparse but still present physical descriptions, she has a thorough background, and a name.
Rating: Explicit 🔞
TW: THERE WILL BE NO TRIGGER WARNINGS ON INDIVIDUAL CHAPTERS. So please tread carefully because there will be (blood) (kidding, just mine) mentions of: PTSD, death, infidelity, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, stomach bug & hospitalization, light bondage, rough sex, size kink taken to the next level, lots of bodily fluids (come spit and sweat, sweat come and spit, the usual suspects), questionable (very bad) decisions, unprotected sex like woa, intense darker Frankie, where’s my feminism at, this man, this man, this man. You know the drill.
A/N: alright orange besties, here we go again, I once more locked up Frankie in a bedroom with a girl... More or less an alternate exploration of my favourite tropes: love at first sight, soulmates, forever love, pleasure and pain, hard sex/sweet love, flourishing through a lover's care and attention, Frankie being a B I G boy... Are you in? 🥺 Also, I’ve never set a foot in Florida, bear with me, I'm trying my best. This is going to be a little rougher kind of Frankie, but still our Pilot™️. I hope you enjoy the flight 🧡 
A very special and heartfelt orange THANK YOU to my love @deadmantis for the moodboards & inspos that went straight into the header for this series 🧡 Deadmantis, I love you in every colour.
Chapters
Prologue - In The Beginning
Chapter 1 - Dirt
Chapter 2 - Closer
Chapter 3 - The Man At The Frontier
Chapter 4 - Frankie
Chapter 5 - Never let me go
Chapter 6 - ...
Epilogue - ...
Playlist
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guwix · 5 months
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Is Caine human or is it AI?
I've seen people bring up this topic more than once. Also, Gooseworx replied to people that Caine is AI. Therefore, I want to sort everything out on the shelf, what we currently have.
Pilot
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Caine was demonstrated to us with human emotions, which is completely indistinguishable from the NPCs themselves (Candy Carrier Chaos!). And if we take the real existing facts about AI, it is because AI does not know how to: feel, experience emotions, understand the meaning of text and images, be aware of itself.
Let's take the same Moon, Sun and of course Bobble.
They have a completely different level compared to Caine.
Even if he created them, if he cannot understand the empathy of people, then why does it make it difficult to understand other characters "created by him". For example, Bobble, he doesn't understand his actions.
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AI has many advantages, but Caine has absolutely NO control over the situation, despite the fact that he is the "creator". Why would he need a "Watch" if all the information should be in his mind?
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At the same time, he tells us himself that he has many eyes, but at the same time, he was not aware of what happened to Kaufmo.
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I understand that the animated series is far from real life. But, in fact, AI cannot be insane. Also, Caine cannot emotionally feel "lonely". And all this tells us the opposite, that it is completely different from AI.
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If the director of "C&A" creates AI to help order in the Digital World, shouldn't the company come up with a name for the "administrator" itself? And according to Gooseworx, Caine came up with a name for himself.
It turns out that people "allowed" AI to run amok in the Digital World without fear of consequences? Strangely, Caine should have restrictions, but it looks exactly as if he is completely free.
It is not the first time that the creator answers us that Caine is not a person and he does not have the age given to him. But, isn't the fans' question a strong spoiler for the plot? If we were told "You'll have to wait and see", that would raise quite a few questions. That is, it would immediately be clear what Caine is like.
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You can also recall a video where a human body is transferred to a computer. Whether this was done for the sake of the fan, or intentionally, we have only to guess.
And one person had the most interesting question. Whether he is the boss, which we were told, we will have to wait and see. If Caine is an AI, then he cannot be the boss, we would have been told that he is another AI.
2:Candy Carrier Chaos!
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As an AI, he is "obliged" to know who is an NPC and who is a "human". Everything must be programmed for him. But, he doesn't know how to "distinguish" them.
Whether the situation is worth turning against him, he immediately avoids it. Although, he is not forced to run away, because for AI, he must be smart enough to come up with a sedative. But, Caine just comes up with an excuse that he needs to "drink some water." Genius.
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Since NPCs do not realize that they are characters of the computer world, they think that they are alive. If Caine is also presented as a God (and God is so-so with him), then what is the probability that Caine will think that he is an AI, for the entertainment of people? After all, the main characters do not remember everything from their current life (they only partially have upbringing).
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mariocki · 1 year
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Horror icon Ingrid Pitt guest stars as enemy agent Elayna in The Adventurer: Double Exposure (1.20, ITC, 1973)
#fave spotting#ingrid pitt#the adventurer#itc#1973#classic tv#double exposure#episode 20 in transmission order but among the first produced I assume; I'm following Network's dvd order in watching (almost certainly the#prod. order) but I'll refer to these eps by transmission order because im an awful dullard. yes‚ The Adventurer. truth be told‚ i saw a#single episode of this series quite a few years ago on Network's 50 yrs of ITC set and it didn't really inspire me to ever seek the rest#of the series out... but with Network's passing (rip forever in our hearts) I've found myself picking up some titles I'd held off on bc of#the very real possibility that a series like this may never see another commercial release. the guest star spots were enough for me to#swing for this once i found it cheap enough (and i had to hunt bc I wasn't paying a lot for something i was fairly certain would be bad)#and... it isn't great. it isn't as bad as i expected either. it's ok. Gene Barry's lead character (the imaginatively named Gene Bradley) is#a truly absurd character: he's a world famous film star who also happens to be the greatest secret agent‚ and of course a successful#business man (also ace pilot‚ award winning racing driver‚ peerless sportsman etc etc etc). that he's played by a visibly tired looking 50#something Gene B is another thing entirely (as is Gene's... variable performance; reputedly a nightmare on set‚ who was hated by co stars#writers and directors alike‚ he also insisted on idiot boards to read his lines from). ITC‚ having spent record amounts of money making The#Persuaders at the start of the decade‚ were attempting something of an economy drive at this point; thus the switch back to 25 minute eps#after 50 had become their standard‚ as well as now shooting on cheaper (and inferior) 16mm film instead of 35mm; by the by that's why these#images are relatively awful. shot on cheap stock‚ and never undergoing the same revival of interest as other contemporary itc shows‚ The#Adventurer presumably languished in film cans somewhere and network appear to have done little to nothing in terms of restoration on the#series‚ with it looking far worse than any of their other itc releases. but then i suppose it was always going to be a niche release..
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mirai-e-jump · 3 days
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Animage October 2024 Issue Kamen Rider Gavv ft. Chinen Hidekazu & Sugihara Teruaki (translations below)
Publication: September 10, 2024
The Strange Sweets Kamen Rider
The 6th Reiwa Kamen Rider is the first ever to use a sweets motif! The cast and staff talk about the behind the scenes of the birth of the new hero who fascinates us with a gap between poppin visuals and its heavy filling!!
Having passed out due to hunger, Shouma, who comes from another world, was saved by a human boy named Hiroi Hajime. Shouma was in a difficult situation when he confronts the Granute, a monster who wants to kill Hajime, but when he "sets & eats" the familiar like creatures called Gochizo in the mouth on his stomach, he transforms into Kamen Rider Gavv and crushes the Granute. This was the beginning of Shouma's battle to protect humans.
The latest entry in the Kamen Rider series, "Kamen Rider Gavv" only just started in September. Despite the poppin imagery and visuals of sweets as its motif, this is a hard and serious drama that depicts the lonely battle of a young man named Shouma, who hides a grand past and mystery behind him.
This production features Takebe Naomi-san as the Producer, Sugihara-san as the pilot Director who determines the direction of the work, Komura Junko-san as Screenwriter, and Fujita Satoshi-san as Action Director, all of whom have worked on the Kamen Rider and Super Sentai series. In particular, Sugihara-san and Komura-san are the pair that gained attention for their work in "Kaitou Sentai Lupinranger VS Keisatsu Sentai Patranger" and the fans are expressing their expectations.
The story of a fierce battle between the sweets Kamen Rider and the Granute monsters has only just begun, so don't miss a moment of the birth of a new Kamen Rider legend! _
Chinen Hidekazu (Shouma)
The first transformation born from an extreme situation
-Supported by dependable friends and the Director-
"Please tell us your impression of the Kamen Rider series."
Chinen: For me, I've admired Kamen Riders since I was a child, and I love them so much that they're the first thing that comes to mind when people ask, "Who's your hero?" I've lived my whole life dreaming of becoming a Kamen Rider, so I was really happy when I was chosen to be Shouma.
"Are there any works that you find particularly memorable?"
Chinen: It's hard to pick a single work from my generation since I'm so attached to all of them, but……I think "Kamen Rider OOO" might be the one I was particularly enthusiastic about when watching. The dialogue between Hino Eiji and Ankh was interesting, and even as a child the ending made me think, so including its theme song, it's my favorite work. Lately however, I've been super into "Kamen Rider Den-O" (laughs). I'm watching it from the perspective of learning why it became so popular, but I also like Den-O because of Satoh Takeru's (who plays Nogami Ryotaro) amazing performance in which he plays multiple different personalities.
"What kind of person do you feel Shouma is?"
Chinen: I read the script so much that it felt like I was watching myself, as I thought that Shouma was so similar to me. We're very similar in the way that we're abit out of the loop, but also curious and get into the things that interest us. I was glued to the TV when I was a child, and I'd become so engrossed when watching it, that I couldn't even listen to what my mother was saying. However, I feel like I'm far removed from him in terms of his guts and inner strength, his desire to save people even at the risk of his own life, and his ability to fight the enemy. Playing the role of Shouma gives me energy and makes me aspire to be like him.
"We think another feature of this production is that right now, Shouma doesn't have a fixed place to stay, and that he comes into contact with a variety of people wherever he goes."
Chinen: I think alot of people are curious to see what happens next, as so far in Gavv, the story continues to be dominated by Shouma's easygoingness and the fact that we don't know what he's thinking. He seems to have a connection with Sachika-san, who he met in episode 2, so what happens to them in the future is a big point to watch out for!
"Please tell us your impressions of Sachika and the person who plays her, Miyabe Nozomi-san."
Chinen: Miyabe-san is a very refined person, so when we first met at script reading, I was shocked and said, "This person's gonna be a gyaru?!" (laughs). One of the things I like about Miyabe-san is that her mannerisms show the quality of her upbringing, but the more we talked, she really started to look like a gyaru, and I felt that performing together with her was amazing. Sachika-san leaves a strong impression of being a gyaru, but on the inside, she's a stable girl who's able to understand the feelings of others. Seeing her say with a refreshing smile, "I think it's good for everyone to be happy," Shouma respects her and thinks, "She's such a wonderful person" and "I want to be like her," almost like she's the embodiment of peace. When I read the script, I always feel supported and say, "Sachika-san, thank you."
"Shouma's brother sister like relationship with her is also very interesting."
Chinen: Director Sugihara Teruaki said to me, "It's like a dog and his owner" (laughs). Still, I think that Sachika-san's all encompassing kindness, and Shouma's simple mindedness are a great combination, and we're also playing the roles with confidence.
"He's yet to interact with Shouma, but we think the role Hanto plays will also be another highlight to look forward to."
Chinen: In some ways, Hanto is also easygoing, but he's the compassionate, hot blooded type, and he too lives by carrying something on his back. I hope you'll look forward to seeing how Shouma and Hanto, who are completely different types of people, interact with each other and what they'll think of each other in their first meeting. Hino Yusuke-kun, who plays Hanto, is the mood maker who makes the set feel relaxed, which is a gap between him and Hanto, but I feel that we're similar in our passion for the production and performance, and the way we put our all into something. To me, Hino-kun is a rival but also like a reliable big brother, and we often consult with each other and visit each other's houses (laughs).
"What were your impressions of Director Sugihara, who also directed the first two episodes as the pilot Director?"
Chinen: As I had no experience in acting, Director Sugihara is a respected teacher who taught me how to perform from the ground up, including how to read the script, and he's like a father figure from Tokyo. He understands each actor's personality and gives them advice accordingly, and he's an amazing person who draws out our potential, so every time I'm on set, I feel happy to film under Director Sugihara. He's a Director I really love.
"Before filming, it seems that you and the Director practiced vocalization together."
Chinen: Yes, even before I could act, my voice wouldn't come out (laughs). I'm really grateful that he took time out of his busy schedule to watch me one on one, and it was an important turning point that led to something changing in me. I want to grow so that people will feel that I'll have changed over the coming year, and one of my goals is to give an inspiring performance that'll be recognized by Director Sugihara with, "You gave it your all."
-Aiming to be as cool as Nawata-san-
"Kamen Rider Gavv, who Shouma transforms into, has a motif based on gummies and other sweets."
Chinen: When I saw the illustration depicted in the proposal, I thought it was incredibly simple, however, my opinion changed when I saw it in person. The armor on the chest and shoulders have a gradient so that it shines beautifully when light hits it, and there's a playful gimmick where a squishy dent will form when it's pressed, so a bunch of detail has been carefully put into it. I'm now so attached to it, that I can't think of anyone else but Gavv. Personally, what I want you to pay attention to the most are the feet. The feet are actually clawed, and this slightly animal like aspect is an important element of the show, so I'd be happy if you make sure to pay attention to the feet as well.
"What's your impression of Nawata Yuya-san, Gavv's Suit Actor?"
Chinen: Nawata-san is an actor who I shape Shouma together with, and he's an indispensable person to me, as I'm able to talk to him about problems that I can't talk about with the other cast members or the Director. He also taught me about acting, like how to create the mood and how to read the script. I'm grateful to Nawata-san's action, as I think Gavv's appeal has tripled, and I feel like the show itself has also become more brilliant.
"Does that also get you enthusiastic about the post transformation dub recording?"
Chinen: That's right. The recording process is more difficult than normal acting because you have to use only your voice to express your emotions and fight scenes in accordance with the footage. In episodes 1 and 2, I had to rerecord so many times that I lost the strength in my voice, and it took twice as long as the planned time (bitter smile). As well as the performances of my seniors in the Kamen Rider series, I also studied the game "Street Fighter" based on the advice of Director Sugihara, and now I feel like I'm getting by. I'll work more diligently to make Nawata-san's performance 120% more appealing with my voice performance, and to become a Shouma who's just as cool after his transformation into Gavv.
"One of the real thrills of the Kamen Rider series are the transformation scenes, but how did you create the pose?"
Chinen: The transformation pose was decided through a discussion between myself, Action Director Fujita Satoshi, Director Sugihara, and Nawata-san. It's a movement that involves rotating your arm, but the final version, which we created after discussing the angles and timing with everyone to make sure it looked cool and appealing, is the transformation pose used in episode 2. Depending on the story, he could transform quickly, so I hope people watch the way he changes based on the situation.
"In the episodes up to this point, the action leading up to the first transformation in the first episode is a scene that can't be ignored when talking about Shouma. There was some action involving wires, and we were also impressed by his performance as he was gradually being cornered by the Granute."
Chinen: That scene was prepared weeks before the shoot, as Director Sugihara and Action Director Fujita came up with a really cool direction. The scene where Shouma is beaten was especially important to give depth to the reason for his transformation, as it took two days to film. In the end, it was in the most extreme situation I had ever experienced in my life, my performance came out unconsciously, and I was complemented with, "Your facial expressions were very good." I could've never done it on my own, the scene was made possible by the advice of Director Sugihara and Nawata-san, who worked beside me, and by all the staff members who created an environment that allowed me to concentrate on my performance.
"It makes us want to go back and pay attention to the expressions on your face. Finally, please tell us your goals throughout filming of Kamen Rider Gavv."
Chinen: I'd like to learn alot about action from Action Director Fujita, Nawata-san and everyone else on the Action Team, and I'd like to improve my acting skills. I've never been in an environment where I could spend an entire year with people who are so good at captivating others, and I don't think it'll ever happen again in the future. I hope to make full use of this experience so that in the next year, I can be an actor who can do it all, from acting to action and recording, so I'll do my best to do what's in front me!
Director Sugihara Teruaki
The vibrant world Shouma comes across
-A dark story with colorful visuals-
"When did you first hear that you'd be the pilot Director?"
Sugihara: I'm pretty sure it was around last Fall, when I was working on the drama, "Tokyo MPD: From Zero to Hero," I received a phone call from Producer Takebe Naomi-san who said, "I'd like to meet and talk with you at once." I heard from a separate matter that Takebe-san would be in charge of the next Kamen Rider, and at the time, I thought I was going to be the second Director, but when I met her, she said, "You're the pilot Director." (laughs).
"At the stage when Director Sugihara joined, how much of the content in the show was decided on?"
Sugihara: Aside from the sweets and monsters motif, we'd yet to decide on the content of the story and the personalities and relationships of the characters. In the beginning, we were a small group consisting of the Producer team's Takebe-san and Takishima Minami-san, Screenwriter Komura Junko-san, and myself. Our three parties worked out the content by sharing ideas from our respective perspectives.
"What specific ideas did Director Sugihara have in mind? Personally, we felt that the visuals of the characters, including their costumes, incorporated the Director's ideas."
Sugihara: You can assume that I'm basically in charge of visual aspects like the impression and fashion. For Shouma's fashion in particular, during the rather early stages, I'd draw an illustration and say, "How about something like this?," and I'd have them look at it while I created his character.
"Not just Shouma's clothes, but also the interior of Hapipare is rich in color, so much so that it's unusual for the Kamen Rider series."
Sugihara: I told artist Fukuzawa Katsuhiro that I wanted to make the visuals as bright and pop as much as possible. Kamen Rider Gavv itself isn't meant to be a continuation of the "ism" seen in the first generation of Kamen Rider, but it includes themes like family conflict and Shouma's sad separation from his mother, so the content is heavy. Because of this, we made the impression of the colors vivid, and were careful to not make them too dark. Moreover, being in the human world for the first time, Shouma's a kid who's impressed by everything he sees, so I was conscious of the world captured from Shouma's point of view and to use rather flashy colors. Conversely, the Granute World and Stomach Family use muted colors, or to just say it outright, they have dirty colors.
"What do you value in your expression of Shouma, the main character?"
Sugihara: I wanted to depict Shouma as a pure kid, someone who suddenly comes to the human world and finds everything he sees as fresh. On the inside, he's not much different from Hajime, who he first meets in the human world, in fact, he's much more of a child than that kid. So he ponders over what he's been told, hurt by the casual mention of "monster" and afraid of hurting others, he's unable to be together with someone else, so he leaves Hajime and Sachika and goes elsewhere. However, I didn't want to make it too dark, so it was hard to depict (laughs). While he carries a dark side, I want him to be a kid who's always smiling when he's with someone, even if he has to force himself to smile.
"This Shouma is beautifully embodied by Chinen Hidekazu-san."
Sugihara: The best thing about Chinen-kun is that he looks great on camera. That's the kind of talent an actor has. Also, the expressions on his face when he eats are really good. Even though he's eating food he usually sees all the time, he eats it like it's a delicacy, looking as if he's eating something he's never seen before and is impressed. In that sense, I think he was the right choice to play Shouma. Still, since this is roughly his first performance, he had to start from a place where he couldn't express his emotions properly, and to begin with, he couldn't even vocalize. I had Chinen-kun stand on one end of Toei's rooftop, and I stood on the opposite end and had him deliver his lines. I gave him relentless acting instruction from the very beginning (laughs). Filming started earlier than usual, so we've already shot several episodes, and I feel that he can now stand proudly in front of the camera as Shouma. With each episode his performance and facial expressions are getting better and better. I have high expectations for his growth over the next year.
-Dedicated action that make the most of the motif-
"We felt that the vibes of Gavv's everyday scenes were different from that of previous Kamen Rider series, but was there anything you were conscious of in your direction?"
Sugihara: In my mind, I had a bright, pop like feeling, but during filming, Chinen-kun……it was important to me how to capture Shouma and the human world from his point of view. I may have only been thinking, "How can I get a good shot of him?"
"In that sense, it's interesting to think that the entire production is being pulled along by Shouma and Chinen-san."
Sugihara: That's right. This is especially true for the first episode, as the story unfolds from Shouma's point of view, so I was conscious of the fact that I wanted to bring the viewers perspective as close as possible to Shouma's.
"Despite the battle scenes also having a fancy sweets motif, from the very first episode, we were taken back by the intense physical battle depicted between Gavv and the Granute."
Sugihara: I'm pretty sure it was Action Director Fujita Satoshi who put out the idea of a serious fistfight at a container warehouse, and with sword fighting in a narrow space. We specified the colors and placement of the containers, and asked the people on location to arrange them accordingly. From there, Fujita and I talked in detail about the composition of the action, and we put it together by discussing the angles while adding in our own ideas as we filmed on site.
"We heard that you and Fujita-san worked closely together to create this."
Sugihara: I also like action quite abit, so I tell Fujita various things like, "Do this sort of thing." Naturally, Fujita has alot of things he wants to do as well, so the two of us are working together to come up with ideas for action sequences and angles.
"Including Gavv's own actions, the way he fights while "eating" the Gochizo is unique."
Sugihara: It was decided in advance that the transformation items Gochizo would appear alot like that of "Pikmin" and "Minions," so I thought it'd be better to use alot of them. Because of that, when Gavv takes damage, his armor breaks and he'll eat the Gochizo one after another……we're calling it "follow up sweets," and I think it'd be interesting to keep changing sweets and repair them as he fights.
"The standard Poppingummy Form has flexible armor, while Zakuzakuchips Form's sword weapon can easily break depending on how it's used, and the use of sweets as a motif was also visually enjoyable."
Sugihara: Inspiration for the action comes from discussions that are almost like casual conversations. I thought about how things like thin baked snacks such as potato chips might be weak to side attacks (laughs). Also, unlike other Kamen Riders, we don't use bullet impacts on Gavv when we depict him being hit (mechanism that detonates gunpowder that's attached to the performer). In his setup, the armor is derived from sweets generated by his own body, so we tried to create the effect of small bead like things flying around him. During filming, we've been throwing beads into the air from the side of the camera. In that sense, it may have a new visual feel.
"What scenes from episodes 1 and 2 were particularly powerful?"
Sugihara: In terms of taking the most time, I'd say it was before the transformation in the first episode. When I was thinking about Shouma's human image, Takebe-san said, "I don't want him to be a hero who fights just because he has powers." You don't fight just because you have the power to become a Kamen Rider, there's a will to fight, and that's where the power comes in. I wanted to create an image of a hero who's able to transform into Gavv because it's Shouma. Since the time of the script meeting, we had talked about how we wanted to portray a different kind of strength from that of the everyday Shouma, who keeps going despite being beaten up by someone he can't even stand up to. On set, Chinen-kun and I worked together to find out why Shouma was feeling that way, and we worked on his facial expressions and gestures one by one, and I was quite persistent throughout filming. We were supposed to film the transformation scene in one day, but we took too long and didn't get to the transformation, so I had to apologize to the staff (laughs).
"Finally, please tell us your enthusiasm for the future."
Sugihara: Honestly, I have no idea how Kamen Rider Gavv will conclude a year from now, but I want to make a show that'll make people who watched it think, "Gavv was interesting." For this reason, I'd also like to delve deeper into Shouma and Hanto, and Sachika and the others characters, and to make each of them appealing. I'm sure that Komura-san will come up with some great developments (laughs), and for my part, I hope that I can take advantage of that, and as the pilot Director for the first time in a long time, to create images that people watching in their living rooms have never seen before.
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hana-no-seiiki · 9 months
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☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIVE STAGES OF YANDERE ࿐: IDOL EDITION
“ 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃. “
⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere! idol! oc (jisoo han) x superfan/manager! reader
✧ tw/cw: yandere themes, reader is also yandere at the start, mentions of anxiety and self harm, honestly idol life is its own tw
HAPPY HANA NO SEIIKI ANNIVERSARY YA’LL!!
[ series masterlist ]
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE ONE. ✧ DENIAL
“Oh gosh (oh gosh) this is so crazy. I’ve fallen in love again.
I trip so easily.
Adore new things, they sparkle.”
“Why are you so obsessed with him?”
“Dunno, just am.”
Your entire life revolved around Yesterday’s Dawn’s ace, Eve. The idol who had been in everyone’s lips. Whose name had been heard throughout nations you’ve never even heard of.
He was your sun, the reason you had the energy to wake up every single day, the light of your life.
Every waking moment you spent it either thinking of him or offering your services for name.
It was normal for you to spend hours looking at his schedule, knowing where he was, being around him most times, or staring at media of him.
Somehow, you were able to land a job as his manager.
You were finally closer to your god.
But you swiftly find out that no man should be likened to one for only disappointment can be found in such a path.
Eve was a lot more . . . burnt out than you expected. A lot less passionate and energetic than he was in camera if not irritable.
It was normal for him to harass workers when they didn’t meet a standard he imposed, as such, after the first few weeks of your employment everyone that you were with have already been fired, quit, and/or paid to keep their silence on the matter.
Yet your feelings for him only stayed; as your employment with the company. Your meticulous and proactive nature as a fan site owner allowed you to take much of the workload he threw at you.
The little admiration you have left for the man kept you standing.
And if only you were a little less stressed you’d notice his scarlet eyes providing stares of amusement, bewilderment, and growing affection.
You never complained (at least, in a place where he could hear you).
Whenever he asked for impossible items or schedules you’ll simply grin and work things out in your little way.
You adjusted to his turbulent temperament as quickly as an experienced pilot in a stormy sky, a sailor of uncharted, dangerous waters.
You were brilliant. Reminiscent of his times as a trainee.
Bit by bit he started lessening your workload. Allowing you to rest. Hell, even giving you his coffee if he didn’t want it. He never gives away his coffee.
You acquiesced to many of his whims but were never a pushover. Always doing your job perfectly. Keeping him in line.
He would have fallen for you already, had he not been in love with someone else.
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE TWO. ✧ ANGER
“Peek-a-boo! It’s only love when my heart quivers.
All my friends yell at me, they say I have a problem.
I’m fine fine fine fine fine fine!”
“ For this comeback period, [L/N] will be assigned to Hayate instead. Eve will have his senior’s manager work with him instead.”
“Understood.”
You were assigned to another member around Spring.
Yesterday Dawn’s most hectic time of the year aside from fall as the group’s concept was as the name suggested, focused more on nostalgia and times of youth.
You were relieved.
You never thought you would have been able to say that after being separated from Eve, but now it was the only thing you had on your mind.
No more late night calls about wanting coffee but throwing the leftovers at you the moment he was sick of the taste, no more work being thrown at you and taken away at random moments, no more working around his schedule so that he’ll have time to meet that dear senior of his in private.
You were free.
Hayate was known to be the harsher one in the fandom, but much like Eve his image was a bit different from his actual self.
Sure he was demanding, but he was fair. He wasn’t controlled by whims and impulse. You were finally able to do your job properly til the end, and you didn’t always feel a judging stare from him like Jisoo would always throw at you.
You were finally able to smile.
However, you see, being a manager for another member did not mean you would completely be free of your original client.
Hayate and Eve worked quite closely, and as such, you’d often help with Jisoo’s requests even if you weren’t obligated to.
Eve immediately saw the change in you.
You were, a lot more bright. Less haggard. Your voice less hoarse. Relaxed.
You were already getting along better with his group member than you ever did with him.
Eve wasn’t really the type to show his anger actively. He was always more, passive.
The senior he was head over heels for was slowly forgotten as he’d spent countless of hours pouring his feelings into his music. What was supposed to be a bittersweet spring album turned out to be one of sour regret and frustration.
Of course, it was still a hit. It even scored him a collaboration with the senior he oh so wanted to have their eyes on him. But all he could think of as he went to bed early in the morning was the way you’d laugh whenever Hayate spoke to you.
Hmph, the guy wasn’t even funny.
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE THREE. ✧ BARGAINING
“Hey you, do you wanna play a game? I already know what you want.
Close your eyes and count to 10. Don’t matter anyways
Cause I am going to find you.”
“Did you hear? Jisoo got his first scandal. Apparently he bullied a bunch of students during high-school.”
“Wasn’t he . . . homeschooled?”
Causing scandals was easy. Dealing with scandals was not.
All Eve had to do was talk to some people, had a few pictures edited and voila, chaos.
It was amusing really, his company superiors would ply him with reassurances and sweet words; telling him that everything will be fine and dealt with while his pr managers dropped down like flies trying to prevent the flames of hatred from spreading too far.
All of them, hopelessly unaware.
All but his stupid senior.
“Why are you doing this now, Ji?”
They always looked down at him almost. Like he was a petulant child that needed to be coddled or scolded depending on their mood.
“We should focus on the track.”
And like he expected, you were brought right back to him. As you should be.
The heads figured out that you were the only one capable of handling the shitstorm without falling into the hands of alcohol or other substances in grief.
And as they expected you did.
After all, you had a timeline of his entire life in a canva document. Even if it was only mentioned once in a concert interview before they went famous. You were an Eve superfan.
All you did was confirm the fact that Jisoo got homeschooled by contacting his parents and teachers, and the rest was easy. You even reactivated your fansite for such an occasion.
If only you hadn’t.
Maybe then Jisoo wouldn’t have a definite reason to pursue you.
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FOUR. ✧ DEPRESSION
“You’ll never get this concept, you might as well forget it
Just play again, bet it all, roll the dice
BLANCA”
Eve thought he was doing well in terms of romancing you.
Ever since he found out about your fansite instead of feeling disgust and horror he felt . . . great, amazing even. A high the stage could never give him.
Of course, you two were destined.
It was only his duty to protect you as your partner, to spoil you, dote on you.
Even if you don’t realize your intertwined fates yet.
. . .
Eve always hovered over you.
Usually managers took shifts with watching over the idols. Half of your time was supposed to be spent planning rather than overseeing his activities.
Yet you seemed to have a never ending babysitting responsibility.
Your past self would have committed several war crimes for the sake of this opportunity. But after a year or so under his ‘care’ you found yourself slowly veering off into the type of insanity you didn’t like falling in.
You felt a bit like Andy from the original Devil Wears Prada book, only that your resentment simmered slowly. Forming into a hideous red sludge of exasperation whenever he randomly wanted to take a vacation. Forcing only you to come with him. Which meant an even bigger workload, and even more people to talk to for flights, schedule conflicts, reservations and all that.
You snapped.
It was a calm afternoon.
The sun was burning you alive as Eve insisted you two would go on a ‘beach date’ for some summer fun.
He shoved a drink in your hand.
And you just broke down.
Tears fell from your eyes, your breath shallow.
You asked him if this amused him. If your suffering was funny to him. If making you fall over just to get his demands on time made him feel fulfilled as a person.
And before he could answer you ran.
A week after that your schedule was finally normal.
Eve kept his distance. Not just from you but from everyone.
You knew of his anxiety attacks and depression before. But seeing those up close and personal scared you.
Things only get worse from here.
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⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FIVE. ✧ ACCEPTANCE
“So it’s too late you’re in the game now. If you keep up might not lose it.
The jungle gym of fun, like hell yeah
Makin the moon fall down down down.”
Eve spent most of his ‘hiatus’ watching your posts of him. Edits, fanfictions, photography, fancams.
Of course, it wasn’t to see himself perform again. He already did that on a regular basis to make sure he kept himself up to the standards of an idol.
It was to see your captions.
Your fanatic raving made him feel . . . loved.
Your previous thoughts on his performances made him feel complete. Like he found a missing piece of a puzzle he kept trying to put something else to fill it in.
Another part of his hiatus was spent preparing for his graduation. The termination of his contract.
It was clear you didn’t love him as an idol anymore. It was his fault really. He couldn’t see how he was hurting you with his work and desires.
If there was another thing he can thank his idol work for was the amount of money he had saved.
Now, he had a new home built far away from civilization. It was completely soundproof. The bed he ordered was custom made, tailored to your preferences this time rather than his. Food stocked to the nines. A few instruments here and there so he could compose even while retired.
He can always make a new song, a new life for you two to enjoy together.
“My voice, my body, my soul. It had always been yours. I just didn’t realize it.”
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✧ [AUTHOR’S NOTE]:
For more EVE content check out the #hns.eve tag 🩵
Lyrics are a mix of translations from the og song and Mitch Joseph’s cover.
OFFICIAL EVE CHARACTER AI
©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024
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ohtobeleah · 9 months
Text
Was It Over? // Jake Seresin
-> Chapter Four: [Parental Guidance]
Summary: Jakes Mother simply cannot understand what he saw in you, your mother simply cannot comprehend why you left Jake.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.
Word Count: 4:1k
Author Note: Mothers…Especially boy mothers can just be the worst when they’re in LOVE with their sons.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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November 1st 
Bradley Bradshaw never thought he would be the person Jake Seresin called when he was in a situation and needed help, but here he was. Sitting in his Bronco outside the house of a woman he didn't know in the early hours of the morning watching Jake stumble down the small overgrown cobblestone path. The Halloween costume Rooster had seen Jake in early that night was long forgotten as the fighter pilot wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs with his wallet and keys in the palms of his hands. 
Immediately as soon as Jake sat in the passenger's seat of Bradleys pride and joy, he could smell the liquor trying to expel itself from Jake pores. 
“You smell like a distillery and we have a HOP at 8am.” There was a very evident disdain for Jake's current state in Roosters' tone, Jake wasn’t drunk enough to miss that. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night to pick you up anyway? What did you do this time to warrant getting kicked out?” Jake didn't respond right away as he kept his eyes staring blankly out the window, the two had only just recently been given new orders to remain in North Island permanently. But when he did speak up, Bradley's heart ached. 
“I accidentally said my wifes name while uh–yeah.” Jake didn't think he needed to explicitly tell his wingman that, during one of the first and what Jake would consider the last one night stand he’d engaged in during your separation, he’d called out your name. “Vanessa didn't really like that.” 
“Yeah, no shit.” Bradley agreed as he drove down the street. “That's rough dude.” Bradley knew of yours and Jake's separation, Jake had told him one night at the Hard Deck after he’d asked how the family was. The two hadn’t always been on good terms but Rooster liked to think you and him were close enough to send Christmas cards to. When Jake had told him you’d left? Bradley didn’t reach out—he assumed it was for the best all things considered. 
“Yeah—but you know what’s rougher?” Jake sighed as he let his head fall back against the headrest. 
“What’s that?” 
“Knowing your wife won’t ever believe you’ll change.” Bradley knew without even looking at Jake that between the mix of alcohol and his desire to win you back that the naval aviator sitting with slumped shoulders beside him was holding back tears. “And proving her right by sleeping with some badge bunny who looked an awful lot like her.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Your home had never been so quiet with all three of your children gone. You stood in the foyer of the entryway just looking around at the mess that had been left behind. Forgotten toys yet to be put away, discarded shoes, dirty plates and cups. Pine needles that fallen from the faux Christmas tree that was essentially hanging on by its last thread. The reminisce of three young children that were allowed to be children inside the safety of their own home. 
As you wiped away the tears that you had let fall freely down from your puffy eyes, you made an effort to tidy up the house you’d be leaving in only a few short hours to leave for the hospital stay you had planned. Tiny shoes with no feet to fill, toys left unattended over the holidays simply to be replaced by newer shiner ones. 
Between now and new years while Jake had the kids in Texas your treatment plan would increase tenfold. You were scheduled for aggressive rounds of IV chemotherapy that you knew you’d have to stay in hospital for to go through, your body was barely tolerating the oral medication as it was. You were scheduled for a double mastectomy in your time at the hospital which would hopefully stop any cancerous cells from spreading to more lymph nodes and areas of your body that remained untouched. Did you have high hopes? Not particularly. But you were ready and willing to do just about anything the oncologist assigned to your particular case had recommended. 
It was going to be a rough stint, but hopefully by the time Jake returned with your children, you’d still be able to mask your diagnosis. How you were going to explain the symptoms like hair loss and suddenly having no breast tissue to Jake was something you had yet to come up with. 
But ‘New year, New me’ was looking like the best possible explanation. Maybe the new look would get him off your case a little when it came to working on your marital issues. 
As you put things back in their rightful places and tidy up, you felt your phone ringing in your back pocket. The call ID immediately made you want to cry even more than you already had been. 
“Hi mum—“ You cooed softly as you stood alone in your empty home. “I uh, I just got home.” 
“How was Jake?” Your mother asked as she drove over to yours, you could hear the difference in her voice because of the shitty ass bluetooth system she barely knew how to work properly. “Did the kids kick up a fuss?” 
“Jake was–” You would never be able to find the right words to describe your husband, well, ex-husband. “Jake was Jake mum you know how we are right now.” Your mother knew about your diagnosis. She had been the one who urged you to see a doctor after you told her you had found a rather large lump on your left breast. “And no, actually the kids were super excited to go with their dad for the holidays, I think they still don't really understand that I'm not gonna be there at all, maybe they just think I won't be there for a day or two, but uh–yeah, they were good.” 
“And how are you feeling?” It was surprisingly a rather hard question to answer as you sat down on the lounge. For the longest time you had always put your family first, made sure all their needs were met before your own. From your kids to your husband they always came first, but now? Now you had to focus on your health and put yourself first if you had any chance of getting through the next few weeks. 
“I threw up this morning–” It was your way of saying you werent travelling well at all. “After I slept with Jake–” You knew your mum would be shocked at your admission, so you closed your eyes and braced for it. The scolding, the “never sleep with an ex speech” But it never came. All that came was a sigh you couldn't tell was laced in disappointment or approval. 
“You need that man in your life darling, he's a good man, the two of you just need to work on your differences.” Your mother had always had a soft spot for Jake Seresin, for a few weeks after your initial breakup he stayed in her spare room. Jake loved your mother like his own and you knew that if you ever gave her a moment on the soap box, your mum would scream it to whoever would listen just how much you and Jake were made for one another. 
Which in your opinion was a little shitty. Jake had his own mum. You needed yours. 
“I know he's a good man mum, that's why I married him to begin with.” You sighed heavily as you laid on the lounge to ward off the dizzy spell that was threatening to throw you off balance. “But I haven't been his priority in a hell of a long time, and I owe it to myself to not go back to being a married single mother.” 
“Okay okay, well–” You knew your mum was only trying to help but it felt like the two of you had this very same conversation every time you spoke, it was like deja vu. “He won't wait around forever darling.” That fact you also knew, according to Jake himself her name was Violet or Vivian or Vanessa. Something that started with a V. Either way you knew very well that Jake wouldn’t wait around for you to take him back on his hands and knees begging. 
But at the end of the day you weren’t sure if you even wanted him to wait for you. Of course you loved Jake, with your whole heart. But right now nothing made sense to you, you were dying after all. 
“Trust me,” You rolled your eyes thinking about how Vanessa or Vicky or Veronica looked. If she looked anything like you or maybe completely different. If she had blue eyes you'd surmise that he probilby date her. “I know he won't, but he's not the priority right now, my health is.” 
“I'll be there in about an hour or two depending on traffic.” For a split second you wished it might take a little longer. Although you loved your mum dearly and appreciated everything she ever did for you, her favouritism towards your husband made your blood boil. 
“Okay, I might have a bit of a nap while I'm waiting for you, I'm feeling pretty shattered.” No word of a lie was spoken, you were exhausted to say the very least. Finally being alone and not having to be in constant caregiver mode for three young children truly had your body calling it quits. You needed sleep and so much of it. 
“I'll see you soon alright?” You mum spoke through the bluetooth that crackled and broke with the failing reception, but you heard her just barely. 
“Alright, bye mum.” You paused hesitantly as you let your eyes close “I love you.” It had been a while since you told anyone you loved them besides your kids, and for a second you wished it was Jake on the other end of the line. You did love him, probably more now than you ever had. Everything was just so messy, it wasn't fair. None of this was fair. 
“Bye Darling.” Your mum replied. “I love you too.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
“My babies!!” Janeen Seresin was in Jake's opinion, one of those women who never should have had kids, let alone four of them. Jake was the youngest of four Seresin children and the only boy. His father, Rodney, was a hard task master who no matter what Jake accomplished in his career or personal life, never seemed to be proud of the man he had become. 
“Hi Ma.” There was a pretty simple explanation for that, Jake never took a beating without getting a few punches in himself. He wasn't the kind of guy who you could beat into submission even as a teen. “Merry Christmas.” 
“Jacob oh my boy it's so good to see you.” Janeen took her youngest child in her arms in the threshold of the Sersein estate. Lavish gardens surrounded the old exposed red brick home that had been in the Seresin family for generations. Jake knew when his parents died it wasn't going to him, but to his eldest sister Julies. “Come in come in! You guys must be so tired after your flight.” 
Jake, despite being a fighter pilot who had flown some of the most suicidal missions, was a nervous flyer when he wasn’t in total control. Commercial flying wasn't something he typically enjoyed. It made him anxious at the best of times and whenever he added his children to the mix he was sure that the way his heart pounded inside his chest during takeoff was early signs of an underlying genetic heart condition he probably inherited from his father. 
“The kids are definitely a little tired, I think Sam's ears haven't really pooped either.” Jake cooed as he and his kids entered the house Jake grew up in, the overly eccentric, far too big, the annoyingly in your face house he knew you always hated. It always seemed to exemplify the two worlds you and Jake grew up in as children. 
“Grandma!” Lucy interrupted. “Mum said that Santa will know exactly where we are if we put out cookies and milk for him and carrots for his reindeer like we do at home.” Janeen chuckled at her granddaughter as Jake placed Sam on the ground to walk off with his brother to explore the mansion style home that was far bigger than the one they were used to. 
“Your mother would still have you doing those silly little things wouldn't she?” Jake bit his tongue as he watched his mother soothe a hand over his daughter's head. “Of course we can put out cookies and milk, but if I get ants you better be ready to clean them up little miss.” Lucy simply smiled and nodded in response, the dig had gone right over her six year old head. 
“God Ma you'd think you never had kids of your own before.” Jake argued in an attempt to remind his mum that his kids were only young. The magic of Christmas was important to you and him. “I'm sure Santa won't leave cookie crumbs all over the house.”  
“Santa isn't who I’m worried about making a mess–” Janeen tried to say the loud things quiet while around Jake's children, but the intent in her words was still as loud and as obnoxious as ever. “How is your mother Lulu? I’m sorry she won’t be joining us for Christmas and new years.” 
“She’s been sick the past few weeks.” Jake frowned at his mothers smile, she left little to the imagination about her opinion of you. “But she’s better now.” Jake wasn't so sure of the statement his daughter made, the way you were only on your knees this morning throwing up into the toilet bowl made him frown in response. Jake had this gut feeling he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried not to think about it. Was something wrong with you? Like, more than just a long winded flu? Who even gets the flu for three weeks these days? 
“Oh I’m sure she is dear, right before her big trip away hey?” Ever since you and Jake separated, Janeen Seresin had been pushing for Jake to file for divorce and full custody. No one got to leave her perfect angel boy. In her eyes Jake could do no wrong, he was her angel, her precious baby boy that no woman could ever be good enough for. 
“Yeah! She’s going to the snow with a bunch of her friends Grandma.” Lucy replied, she didn’t understand her grandmother’s resentments just yet. That or it went right over the little girl's head, either way Jake was thankful for her innocence. 
“Oh I know your dads told me all about your mothers grand plans.” Janeen rolled her eyes pretty heavily at the idea you were off whoring yourself out on a ski trip out of the country while her son was tasked with looking after the three children you had with him. 
“Ma, drop it will you?” Jake urged. “She’s allowed to go away for the holidays, she’s pretty much had the kids all year.”
“And why is that?” Janeen retaliated as little Lucy walked off to find her brothers. Jake followed his mother into the dining room where festive decorations dressed the dining table. Perfectly set and prepared. A stark contrast to your old chipped four seater dining table that had soggy cheerios spilled on the top just this morning. Jake much preferred the cheerio-covered table to his mothers perfectly decorated one. 
Fuck, Jake thought to himself the more he looked around. His kids were about to mess this place up. He knew deep down that would bring you a little solace. You knew Janeen was sour on you. The idea of the kids making her life just a little more chaotic would normally make you chuckle.
“Because I live and work in North Island now, I don’t have the proper work schedule to take three kids on by myself.” That was the appropriate and only answer, but Jake knew his mother saw it differently. “I don't have to means to look after them myself–Y/n does, we both agreed on that when he split.” 
“She’s keeping those kids away from you sweetheart.” Jake couldn’t have rolled his eyes harder if he tried, he’d been home for all of what? five minutes and already his mum was disrespecting you. “You don’t see those kids nearly as much as you should and it’s her—“
“Don’t you think that’s more on me then it is on her?” Jake argued back. “Come on ma you know exactly why we separated, I wasn’t putting in what she was giving and it damn near killed her. The last thing she needs is a custody battle.” 
“What you ever saw in that woman I’ll never understand sweetheart.” Janeen cooed as she reached up to touch her son's cheek. “I always knew she was never good enough for my baby boy.” 
Jake wanted to argue, he really did, but it was Christmas and his entire family would soon be filling the Seresin estate. So Jake pressed his lips together and leaned in to press a kiss to the top of his mothers head. He didn’t want to ruin yet another family holiday. He didn’t want to be dubbed the family disappointment because of his separation. Although he knew that's exactly what he was. 
He just wanted to be loved. And at this point Jake was gonna take that love whenever the hell he could get it from. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“Y/n–” At first you didn't respond, but as your mother shook you as you slept on the lounge and called your name a few more times, you finally woke up. “Y/n, babe jesus have you been asleep since we got off the phone.?” It took you a moment to come back into your body as you wiped the dry drool that had leaked from your mouth onto your cheek. The discombobulation was clearly evident to your mother as she stepped back a little to give you some space. 
“Yeah, I guess so.” You mumbled as you sat up. “I'm just really–” The all too familiar feeling of bile rising came hard and came quickly. “Oh god mum, get me a bucket!” The look of panic written in the tired lines on your face was enough for your mum to realise what was going on. 
“Oh shit hang on.” Your mother hurried into the laundry nearby and searched high and low for something you could use, but you decided soon thereafter that it was quicker if you booked it into the kitchen and puke right into the kitchen sink. “Y/n! Oh god are you alright darling?” 
For a single mother of two children, yourself and your older brother Carson, your mother did alright for the hand she was dealt. On the younger side, your mother always seemed a little ‘Childish’ in her nature and mannerisms. But she was your mum and you wouldn’t change her for anything. 
“I'm fine–I just–” You couldn't keep anything down to save your life right now, so when your body wanted to expel any form of bile it was just stomach acid and remnants of whatever you had most recently eaten. Your mother did her best to comfort you as you coughed and splatted your gagged in the kitchen sink for dear life, she could tell your body was weaker than it ever had been just from the way you trembled under her touch. 
It broke her heart to see you like this, so sick and fragile. You did well to hide it though, for what it was worth she thought you looked relatively healthy still. But it was still early on in your journey. 
“I'm so scared mum.” You cried out through gags as you stayed bent over the sink coughing and crying. This wasn’t fair, you had a family to think of, kids to watch grow, a husband to hopefully fall in love with all over again. How could whatever god was up there do this to you? Why did this happen? Why you? What had you done so wrong to deserve this untimely fate?
“It's okay I've got you baby.” Your mother cooed as she rubbed circles into your back with her open palm. “Im here, I’ve got you now, let's get you ready to go up to the hospital hey, you wanna take a shower or?” 
“Let me just brush my teeth–” You sighed as you spat into the sink to clear your throat. “I should ring Jake, make sure they got in safe.” 
“I'm sure they’re just fine, he’d call if there was a problem, let's just focus on you for once.” You didn't want to feel like you were neglecting your children but you already felt like you were. They were your entire world, putting yourself first just wasn't in your nature. But as you thought about calling, thought about just sending a text, you looked at your phone to see a missed call from Jake about twenty minutes prior and a few text to follow. 
:Lover: “Kids and I are here safe, ma’s on her fuck the ex campain already and dads nowhere to be seen.” 
:Lover: “Hope you're enjoying your kid free afternoon, safe flight tonight, text me when you get into Calgary.” 
You couldn't help but to smile as you pocketed your phone, you'd call Jake later once you were settled into your hospital room. Right now you just needed to finish packing, brush your teeth and get over to the hospital for your admission time. 
“He loves you so much.” Your mother reminded you as she followed you up to your room to help you finish packing. 
“I know he does.” You really weren't in the mood to be discussing the state of your marriage right now. “He deserves better, someone not riddled with cancer cells.” 
“Is that why you won't even consider the idea of getting back together?” Your mother was nearly flawed when you silently nodded in return. “Y/n, don't you dare–” Again, you didn't want to talk about it. Between Jake's mother not being your number one stan and your mother playing devil's advocate what seemed to be twenty four seven, you were just over everyone having an opinion. 
“Mum! He didn't care about me enough when I was healthy and happy and his wife! What makes you think he’ll care now that I’m literally dying!” You shouted as you threw a pair of extra soaks into your luggage bag. “It's not fair, none of this is, but I left him well before I got sick and me getting sick doesn't change the reason I left.” 
Your mother didn’t respond, all she did was stare at you worryingly from across your bedroom room in silence. It looked as if she was trying to figure something out, read your face, understand what was going on. Then, after a few short moments of silence she spoke. 
“Your father and I went through something very similar before he died.” Your parents had been divorced for three years before your dad died in an awfully unexpected car accident. It shattered your mum, you knew it did. “We never did get to a point where we could resolve our differences.” She explained softly as she walked over to help you pack the last few items. You let her help you fold some T-shirts, Jake's old T-shirts, as she spoke. “This past year watching you and Jake go around in circles about how much you both still love each other and how desperately he's willing to change in order to keep you is so infuriating because you, my baby girl, have already decided you're not worth loving because you’re unfortunately going through something I can't even begin to comprehend.” 
“He couldn't love me before mum.” You simply sighed in defeat, god it was like you were going around and around on a ferris wheel. “What makes you think this changes anything?” 
“That man has never stopped loving you Y/n, he just got a little lost, we all do.” 
“If you had a chance would you take dad back?” It was a question you'd never asked before purely because you were afraid the answer would be no. now? As you tried to navigate the best thing to do for yourself, you desperately hoped the answer would be yes. Perhaps then you wouldn't feel so torn about hating to love Jake Seresin and his ability to captivate your entire being. 
“Without a shadow of a doubt my dear.” You’d never seen your mother have to hold back tears so hard before in your life. She was watching her only daughter go through a battle she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy as well as trying to help you through your separation. Although sometimes unwarranted and unsolicited, she was still your mother. 
“Without a shadow of a doubt.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
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