#fic: same old feeling
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The Nikto called the kid a “fledgling Jedi”, saying Din had no idea what he could “do”. The Armorer also called the Jedi “sorcerers” and though Din doesn’t know anything about sorcery, he does know there’s something magical about the kid’s hugs. Something powerful. They have the power to erase bad dreams and painful conversations. They have the power to heal hurts and pains and age-old loneliness. They have the power to make Din laugh like he is now. If that isn’t magic, Din doesn’t know what else is.
Dream Child by @muchadoloo
#well guess who is reading this fic again for the umpteenth time#and is feeling physically ill#truly one of my 2 forever faves it set my standard for fic to a new high#dream child#din djarin#grogu#baby yoda#mando#pedro pascal#clan mudhorn#the mandalorian#star wars#ik this looks exactly the same as 1 of my old pieces just from a diff angle#but fuck it i love drawing them hugging#my art
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same shape. new stuffing. (turn it around)
based on keferon’s empurata prowl au
#transformers#maccadam#prowl#empurata prowl#i honestly tried#at first i thought i would write a psychodelic fic about jazz slowly deepening into the world of illusions where prowl is still same old bro#but i start feeling numb every time my fingers touch the keyboard#so not today#anyway im enjoying this au and what people are doing with it
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*grips your shoulders* an eight year old is not gonna act like that. put the pen down. close the laptop. stop writing for a minute. volunteer at a daycare center for a week or smth. an eight year old is typically (unless they're purposely doing it, but at that point you'll be able to tell) not going to speak in one word sentences. that is a child with a possible developmental delay and should probably get an assessment done. that is a two year old with an MLU score of 2.0 who is struggling with their present possessive verbs. look up the average heights of an eight year old because i promise they're bigger than that.
if your six year old is still doing reduplicated babbling and it's not clearly an on purpose active play decision, then they should probably (re: REALLY) undergo evaluation because one of the first signs of a developmental delay is delayed speech. children begin speaking in two word utterances as young as 18 months old. three year olds on average can hold simple conversations with adults. four year olds absoLUTELy can.
i know it's super fun to write children as being dependent and clingy to their parent for your super fluffy found family child fic but that is not a six year old that is a worryingly large two year old with a mild speech delay. you don't have to be 1:1 accurate, god knows i'm not but please at least know that children on average are capable of holding simple conversations by the time they're 4, and are usually doing the baby talk stuff to be cute or as a play thing. which isn't a bad thing but if they're talking like that unironically and ALL the time, then there is likely a problem in their development.
#*wails melodramatically*#starry rambles#starry is an early education major and daycare teacher and is showing off that knowledge.#its not that deep i just get really passionate about child development because its my special interest and what im in college for#and now reading kidfics is that much harder because of it.#*points at the in-fic seven year old unironically behaving the same way as a 9 month old* THAT CHILD NEEDS AN EVALUATION STAT.#like iM GUILTY TOO. IM GUILT OF INFANTILIZING KIDS IN KIDFICS BUT ALSO. EVERY TIME I SEE IT HAPPEN MY TEETH ITCH#AND I FEEL AN INTENSE URGE TO INFODUMP. BUT THAT'D BE RUDE TO THE FIC AUTHOR SO IM MAKING MY OWN POST ABOUT IT#its not that deep and its not that serious i just wanted to infodump
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@hxhbigbang24 time!!
I drew for this fic which made me SAD and also made my HEART WARM!! I will not say too much to avoid spoiling future chapters, but I illustrated a few moments from this scene near the end of the story that I loved!
#hxh#hunter x hunter#hxhbb24#melody hxh#leorio paladiknight#leosen#senritsu#leomelody#leomelopika#(<- in a way)#my brain got stuck for a while on the idea of doing One Big Piece#and then I realized a series of faster looser drawings probably better captured the sort of#whirlwind feeling of this scene that i loved in the first place#something about traveling scenes at night is just. *chefs kiss*#(or maybe that's just my excuse LOL but I hope it worked out okay!!)#'Leomelody has so much love to give' <- (from the fic tags) YOU GET IT#part of me is glad fandom as a whole was able to look at the 'best heartbeat' scene without making it into a ship thing but#in my heart of hearts i think this ship is so underrated they would care about each other so much and make each other laugh#and also probably have a grand old time goofing off together (while we see her being more restrained nowadays this IS the same melody who#got drunk and listened to the creepy cursed sonata quite likely thinking it'd be a cool fun idea)
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I'm sorry, but I heard "I'd rather die than grow old without the best of you" in The Challenge from Epic: The Musical and my brain automatically thought of Agent Stone so here's a little freak out Stobotnik loosely based on this concept.
The first time the Doctor disappeared, his supposed death was so sudden and mysterious that Stone was able to disappear and put contingency plans into action without much difficulty. Robotnik's work was preserved despite the government's attempts to erase him from history, after all, the world's greatest inventor was a source of inspiration for other inventors in every country and organization on the planet. Stone focused on staying in the background and waiting for the Doctor's return, because of course such a brilliant man would not be defeated so easily, and his legacy was fixed in the shadow of the inventors' society whether the american government liked it or not.
This time, however, Robotnik left a message for the world when he disappeared. I mean, technically the message was meant for Stone, but the entire world had access to it, including the International Society of Brilliant Inventors. This meant that Stone had gone from being a nameless assistant in their eyes to Robotnik's right-hand man. It meant that everything that remained of Robotnik's work, in all its detail and genius, was either in Stone's possession or could be reproduced only thanks to his knowledge.
Soon every inventor, from the most renowned to the youngest, wanted Stone by their side in the same way that Robotnik had. The Doctor's reputation only made the man who had been able to win their affection and trust even more desirable in the eyes of these inventors, and so Stone was no longer able to hide as well as he had the first time. No matter what excuse he came up with or how often he disappeared into the most innocuous places on the planet, he was always found by some scientist with an offer of partnership or courtship or employment. This quickly became a problem when all Stone wanted was to be able to process the Doctor's death in peace and think carefully about what to do with the rest of his life.
Stone refused to reveal any information about Robotnik's work beyond what was already public knowledge among the society of inventors, and he would not give in to any advances or threats from anyone who approached him. His loyalty was palpable, and it made them want him even more just for the challenge. So that was exactly what he decided to give them. Whoever could invent something even remotely similar to Robotnik's technology on their own would not only have Stone as an assistant, but also access to all the knowledge he had accumulated about the Doctor over the years. Only someone as brilliant as Robotnik once was would truly be worthy of continuing what he had built on his own.
He never believed that there could actually be a person in this century who could compare to the Doctor and hoped that this challenge would give him time to think about what to really do with Robotnik's work and his own life. Perhaps the friendly advances would turn into outright threats when they realized he was just winding everyone up, but that was okay, Stone was prepared for that. He would rather die than actually hand over Robotnik's legacy to someone else, no matter how deserving they might prove to be.
Stone didn't know that in an even more innocuous place on the planet, Robotnik was recovering from the explosion with Shadow by his side fully aware of the repercussions of his supposed death. He was fully determined to wait for a full recovery to return to his assistant, but when he learned of the challenge, oh, there were no broken bones that would stop him from proving to Stone that he was still the best of the best among all those sycophants in that idiotic society. If his return ends up protecting his assistant from being tortured by less brilliant scientists, but just as cruel as Robotnik considered himself to be, well, let's just say it was a positive side effect.
#It's kind of tragic and kind of hilarious how much Stone looks like Penelope#the way No Longer You combines with Robotnik also gives me the same feeling#who would have thought that Sonic's old man yaoi would be like a modern Odyssey?#I'll probably write fics about them with some Epic songs#sonic movie#sonic movie 3#sonic 3 spoilers#agent stone#agent stone sonic#doctor robotnik#ivo robotnik#jimbotnik#doctor eggman#eggman#stobotnik
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Yeah short skirts and crop tops are sexy— but there’s just something about a man that finds you so attractive wearing clothes that shouldn’t be considered typically sexual. Like baggy sweats or his old, worn shirt.
Those plain, boring outfits that aren’t planned and are just thrown together for comfort and practicality that have his dick throbbing for you as he imagines bending you over the nearest surface.
#there’s always fics where reader is wearing such sexy clothes and that’s what gets the guy going#but somehow I feel like seeing you dressed down would have the same effect#or like he sees you wearing his top or hoodie and he’s instantly feeling possessive (even if you aren’t dating!!!)#like ‘oh I just got cold so I borrowed your hoodie sorry’ except now he’s smirking at everyone else in the room because you chose HIS shit#or like imagine you’ve just become a mum and you’re feeling the unsexiest you’ve ever felt after childbirth#you’re tired you haven’t done makeup in weeks and you can’t even imagine doing any kind of self-care#wearing one of your man’s old shirts that you’re certain has baby sick or milk on it#and somehow your man thinks you’ve never looked prettier as he’s got his hands all over you while you try to cook breakfast or do laundry#OR OR OR !!!!!!!!!!#he sees you in his colours or wearing his logo or something on a plain tee and he’s ready to lose his mind
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Lucid Dreamer (1/2)
part 2
Gepard notices that it's been. Quiet lately. Like weirdly quiet. TOO quiet. He hasn't seen Sampo Koski in almost a week, which is about the longest he's ever been absent. And he is NOT worried. He's not! So what if they've been getting along more lately! So what if Gepard sometimes looks for him in his favorite hiding places! So what if he's been dreaming about blue hair and green eyes! It's nothing!!
But they're….strange, these dreams. Gepard doesn't usually remember what he's dreamt. It's out of his mind seconds within waking up. But these stick with him, they won't leave him be, they feel different somehow.
He dreams of Sampo bringing food to the frontlines and eating breakfast in his tent with him. Sampo always sneaks him extras. He dreams of chasing Sampo through the alleyways, Sampo sometimes letting himself be caught, Gepard sometimes catching him, and trying to ignore how it feels more like a game now more than anything else. He even dreams that Sampo tags along with him on one of his few civilian days. Sampo runs errands with him, prattles about inane bullshit while Gepard picks out groceries for the week, drags Gepard into some bakery he's never been to but he thinks Serval mentioned once.
And sometimes, it feels so close to reality, that Gepard half expects to see Sampo, shamelessly swaggering into the frontlines with all the guards' breakfast like his wanted poster wasn't only recently taken off the walls of Belobog. He's disappointed when it's always someone else instead. He tells himself his disappointment is ridiculous and if Sampo wants to go prowl around the Snow Plains or wherever he is, then fine. It's not any of his business.
…But it IS his job to investigate any unusual criminal activity relating to the frontlines. And the frontlines are Sampo's usual haunting grounds, and this is unusual activity, and Sampo IS technically a criminal, so it is absolutely part of his duty to look into this - is what Gepard tells himself the entire tram ride down into the Underground.
Natasha tells him he's gone, and Gepard has to steel himself. He knew Sampo made enemies wherever he went, there are a lot of people who would love his head on a platter, but he didn't think-
Natasha corrects him that she means literally gone. As in off-planet. Sampo always leaves her a note before he goes anywhere, so she knows not to expect any supply runs from him. He should be back in exactly two weeks. Thank the Preservation.
Gepard goes back home. He waits.
The uneasiness doesn't leave him.
"Where did you go?" Sampo stops dead in the middle of some story about Seele, and how you'd think someone with as blunt a mouth as her wouldn't have so much trouble asking a woman out, even if that woman IS the Supreme Guardian, and stares at him. He nearly fumbles his cigarette.
"Ahaha, what do you mean, I'm right here?" Sampo smiles at him the same way he always does. Gepard has no idea why he asked. It just popped out. He can never tell when Sampo is lying, anyway.
"I don't know. I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time." Gepard idly mouths at his own cigarette. He almost never smokes, but he wants to ration their stocks of Blizzard Immunity, and it helps with the cold. It's seemed colder lately, for some reason.
Gepard flicks his lighter once, twice, sighs at the third time because a metal prosthetic and thick gloves make the damn things so difficult. Sampo reaches over and wordlessly kisses the end of his cigarette to Gepard's, lighting it. "Thank you."
Nothing happens for almost a full 30 seconds. Something churns behind Gepard's ribcage. Because Sampo never leaves a "thank you" hanging. This is the part where he gives his spiel about how helpful and kind he is and Gepard either brings up how long his rap sheet was before Bronya helped clear his name, or just stares deadpan because seeing Sampo squirm is weirdly satisfying.
"…I'll be back in one more week."
Gepard jolts awake in his cot, mouth dry and eyes bleary.
The hell.
The next dream he has, Sampo looks tired. Sometimes he seems normal. Sometimes he says strange things, like how he wishes he'd gone to some restaurant in Belobog. Ate his favorite food more recently. Brought something with him. Gepard asks why he can't do that now. Where would he bring something? Sampo only shrugs. His rebuttals have less energy.
Gepard doesn't know if he wants to dream more, or less.
He ticks down the days on his calendar. Natasha hasn't told him any different. She promised she would if she got any kind of message. Sampo returns tomorrow, from whatever vacation or seedy business dealings he's been off having. He is not excited about it. He is not looking forward to it. He's not!!
Gepard falls asleep late that night, unable to settle. He dreams again.
He's alone. There are tons of people everywhere, the frontlines are always crowded. But he's alone. They all pass right by him as though he were a ghost. Gepard starts to walk before he realizes his feet are even moving.
He checks the trashcans in the dead end alley. He checks the supply crates that someone always stacks too high because they don't feel like finding more space for them. He pauses to check the soldiers that march past him, watching their footprints in the snow.
He finally finds Sampo on the rooftop along the northernmost wall, the one that looks out over the plains, towards Everwinter Hill, towards where the Stellaron had once been kept. With a full moon and an entire land of white snow, Gepard can almost see clear out to the horizon.
"Found you." Sampo stiffens, and Gepard is almost prepared for him to sprint off the roof. He doesn't. But he doesn't relax either. Gepard sits down next to him and stares out at the wastelands.
"…I fucked up." It wasn't what Gepard had been expecting. Sampo never 'fucks up,' Sampo just gets into incidents that are entirely, supposedly, not his fault and that he just happens to always be within the vicinity of.
"What did you do now?" It must be really bad if Sampo is coming to the Silvermanes for protection.
Instead, Sampo ignores his question completely. "See out over there? Right on the other side of that mountain. There's a safe house that way. It's hidden under a lot of snow and dead trees, but it's there. And in that safe house is a box full of letters. I need you to deliver those letters for me."
Gepard's brow furrows. It's a weird favor to ask. Sampo would never tell anyone where his hidden safehouses were. It defeated the whole purpose of a hidden safe house.
Something is wrong, something is really really wrong.
Gepard turns back to look at him again and startles, all of his questions dying in his throat, because the entire left side of Sampo's head is suddenly matted down, dark and sticky, his skin is dyed red red red-
"In three more months, there's gonna be something big happening." Gepard grabs Sampo's hand and it feels slick and warm against his palm. "I won't be here. So I need you to do my end of things for me." Gepard tries to keep hold, but something is fading, something is slowing, the sun is coming up but the colors are all wrong, everything feels like encroaching fog, Sampo's hand slides right through his. "I was gonna come back with my mask to finish setting the stage, but…" Gepard makes a frantic grab for Sampo's wrist, the air twists, he comes back empty-handed. "They have you. And you're the Iron Wall of Belobog. So it'll be ok."
Gepard finally manages to find his grip, snatches the front of Sampo's dark wet jacket and yanks him forward to hold onto him, and this close up, he can see it better, his colors are bleaching out, leaking outside the lines as if Sampo will become part of the background, as if he's fading into the strange fog that's been closing in on them. His fingers are already starting to feel empty again.
"Wake up."
Gepard jolts awake, uncurls his hands from where they're fisted in the blanket, scrubs the dampness off his face. Breathes. Breathes. Breathes. Today is supposed to be the day.
He throws on his civilian clothes, and he goes down to the shipyard the IPC had built. He finds a spot where he can see every person that returns to Belobog, and he waits.
And he waits and he waits and he waits.
No one he recognizes appears.
#sampard#gepo#hsr gepard#hsr sampo#gepard landau#sampo koski#honkai star rail#hsr#blood#my fics#lucid dreamer#there was more to this but it didn't feel right included here so part 2 tomorrow maybe?#I just think Penacony being the land of dreams presents some FASCINATING possibilities like showing up in other people's dreams#the end of masquerade duet killed me just beat me dead#Sampo going through all this trouble just to protect Belobog...#poor Ray got such an earful that night haha#In the Penacony dreamscape someone can change their appearance however they want but I think in this case where one of the dreamers AREN'T-#-on Penacony it would take more concentration to keep that illusion up#and if someone were say. hurt and badly bleeding. it would start to fall apart eventually as they lost their concentration.#but oh my heart#Sampo being away and missing Belobog so badly he shows up in his friends' dreams just to do the same mundane shit they always do...#He probably showed up to everyone#he sat around and kept Natasha company in her clinic. he pestered Seele until he provoked her into asking Bronya on a date.#he played one last song with Pela and Serval. he told them he'd always kept his old bass guitar.#he took Hook out on one last joyride on his scooter and he even let her sit up front and steer like she'd always wanted.#and he stood around to shoot the shit with Gepard#he got to go do things like run domestic errands together with him. as if they could have been something more than what they were at the en#it was nice to get the chance to do all that#it was nice
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If you have ever liked something I made enough to share it with people please tell me I will love you forever.
#fandom#fanfic#every once in a while i will randomly get like 10 kudos on an old fic on the same day#and i feel like shaking my screen#demanding to know who sent them here and what they thought
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An interesting theme, imo, in mdzs is the sheer tiredness you must feel when dealing with someone who, having been dead for more than a decade, is still the same person as before, while you aren't anymore.
#I don't have seen people dig into it#And it's reasonable#Mdzs has a lot of interesting themes!#Also we don't feel this because in the novel the main couple is building a completely new relationship#While the only person still alive with whom wwx had a relationship in the past isn't there a lot. So#I realized it while writing this wq fic. And now she meets wwx#And into my mind he tries to recreate the same dynamic as before. But wq just looks at him. Because now she is almost 40#(kinda?? Age in mdzs is nothing but I like old women)#Anyway she isn't the same as 13 years ago#While for wwx isn't much long. For him from the burial mounds at best are 6 months#I am not making sense. sigh#But if I had a bestie in a come. Then they woke up and tried to do the same jokes I would blink and not even laugh#Because I've changed#It's fucking sad#For everyone
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Please recommend us some fics from other authors
hi nonnie!! thanks for dropping by my ask :> not too sure if you’re after a specific fandom but since i’ve been reading from genshin & haikyuu lately, i’m more than happy to recommend fics from those fandoms!!
genshin impact
the laws regarding attraction (pas de deux) by euniveve on ao3 (neuvillette x f!reader; series, angst, slow burn, arranged marriage, one-sided pining)
notes: everything about this series is perfect!!! the angst the pining AAAAA it made me feel so so much things for neuvi :( <3 series is currently on hold but do give it a read!!!
doctor’s orders by joonie-beanie (wriothesley x f!reader; explicit smut)
wicked dragon, lay waste to me by silkjade (neuvillette x afab!reader; explicit smut)
an encore of betrayal by vivalabunbun (neuvillette x f!reader; historical au, reincarnation au, slow burn, angst, smut)
haikyuu
encumbrance by pantslesspanic on ao3 (kuroo, hinata, atsumu, kageyama, sakusa, bokuto, iwaizumi, oikawa, suna, daishou x f!reader; series, japanese men’s national volleyball team, tokyo 2020 summer olympics, multiple pairings, slow burn, smut)
notes: THIS was the fic making me squeal about bokuto yesterday LMAOOO it’s soooo amazing <3 it’s still on going but already has 9 chapters :>
an observer of longing by tsumoo on ao3 (iwaizumi x f!reader; friends to lovers, angst, mutual pining, smut)
notes: this one made me feel so much emotions AAAAAAA i am in love w author’s writing
tag, ur it! by hqbaby (sakusa, osamu, iwaizumi x f!reader; series, college au, slow burn, smut)
my time is important by yenonnoff (iwaizumi x gn!reader; mini smau series, college au, crack, friends to lovers, fluff)
my love mix up by boyfhees (iwaizumi x reader; school au, fluff, humour, minor angst)
kiss me maybe by mysterystarz (oikawa x gn!reader; college au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst)
second best by cr4yolaas (iwaizumi x reader; two-part series, fluff, angst, losing feelings, timeskip)
#moonlit queries#happy reading :>#sorry if most of these are the same characters 😭 they’re my blorbos LMAOOOOO#all these fics made me feel so much omg i am in love with thr writings the plot the everything#still trying to find the other fics ive read for genshin so sorry if its a short list :(#i usually rb fics on a sideblog to keep track but since i deleted my old acc🥲
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— SHE’D DO ANYTHING FOR ME
pairing: Imogen Kol (oc) x Bix Caleen rating: Mature words: 3.3k warnings: possessive behavior, codependency, fight and make up summary: tfw when your ex finds your taste in women extremely questionable
notes: this is another older-ish one that I feel compelled to post on its own.
Everything felt so... calm and peaceful. In the same way the sky looks before a storm. Imogen should be fleeing for her life or at the very least preparing herself for the inevitable destruction. But she didn't — she couldn't.
All she managed was to lie in bed beside the woman she fought so hard not to love. The warmth of her body half draped over Imogen's after a night of passion. It was such a simple thing, to have her beloved's head rest against her chest and feel their breaths as one, yet she could not recall ever feeling so content.
Destruction might just be worth it.
Bix trailed her fingertips along her bare collarbone which caused Imogen to smile. Her own caress lightly traveled up and down the mechanic's spine in aimless patterns. It even felt extraordinary to touch her just for the sake of it.
"I'm starting to believe you actually like waking up next to me," Bix said in a lighthearted tone.
"I have always desired this," Imogen admitted softly, tilting her head enough to nuzzle against hers.
"Meaning you've always been afraid of this."
Imogen tensed. The hard-wired urge to pull away and fiercely deny such an accusation threatened to overcome her, but there was no sense in refuting the truth any longer. Not from Bix. Gradually, the bounty hunter willed her muscles to ease. She wondered how long it would take to train these instincts out of her. "If we... truly commit to one another –"
Bix's fingers suddenly twitched into a fist against Imogen's skin. "If?"
"No," Imogen quickly corrected herself. "No more ifs. What I mean to say is... Well, I have a lot to learn."
"So do I. So does everyone," Bix stated matter-of-factly. She leaned up on her elbow and met the other woman's apprehensive expression. "You're here. You're trying. That's all that really matters to me."
A strand of dark hair dangled over the mechanic's cheek. Imogen reached out and delicately tucked it behind her ear. She took in the unobscured beauty of her beloved for a few prolonged beats, her thumb tracing some of those features that left her in awe.
"I am quite certain there is one thing in this galaxy that I would not be able to bear," Imogen muttered under her breath – almost to herself.
Bix moistened her lips as she inched closer. "And what's that?"
A rhythmic knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Along with a gruff voice that called out "Bix? It's me."
Imogen hoped her glare would burn right through the durasteel to strike Cassian down.
"Hang on!" Bix called back. With an exasperated sigh, she slumped down and hid her face in the crook of Imogen's neck for a beat before she forced herself up. At the sight of the bounty hunter's less than pleased expression, Bix said "Don't start anything. I’m not in the mood to deal with either of your shit today."
"He still draws breath, does he not? That is the extent of my manners," Imogen replied curtly as Bix hastily dressed herself. She, too, summoned a great effort to follow her out of bed and do the same. "Unless he wishes to apologize for aiming a blaster at my heart."
"You held your lightsaber at his throat."
"He drew on me first."
Bix rolled her eyes, though Imogen caught the upturn at the corner of her mouth before she turned towards the door. "Come in."
The both of them hadn't quite finished dressing. Cassian entered as Bix fastened the waistband of her pants at the same moment Imogen pulled a shirt over her head. He halted mid-step, his gaze shifting between the two women as if a complicated equation did not add up. Though, the scene before him must have been fairly obvious.
"What is it, Cass?" Bix impatiently urged.
"I just... wanted to talk to you." Cassian's answer came out distracted. His eyes lingered on the bounty hunter.
Imogen looked to Bix expectantly and received a nod. A part of her had hoped that she would have been allowed to remain in the room, but she understood why Bix dismissed her. Without another word, Imogen collected her coat in one hand and intended to make her exit when an impulse emerged. She would not have Cassian misinterpret anything here, not if she had any say in it.
In a few strides, Imogen went to Bix and pulled her in by the back of her neck. While their lips met with intention, it was no less soft or passionate than the kisses they shared in private. Imogen indulged in a few strokes and had to fight not to get lost in the sensations, nearly forgetting the witness she intended to show for.
Once Imogen pulled away, she gave Bix a parting caress and said "I will come find you later."
The mechanic had a knowing glint in her eye, but she nodded again. "Alright."
Cassian had not moved and the nature of his continued gaze turned from dumbfounded to outright suspicion. Imogen glared right back at him as she made her way towards the door. He stood far enough into the room that she could have easily maneuvered around him, but she instead shoved her shoulder into his as she walked past. Just to make sure her point came across clearly.
Cassian let it happen and she exited the room with an air of confidence.
Despite having been dismissed, Imogen’s curiosity compelled her to linger just outside the door. Cassian could be there to simply check up on his friend, or he could be there to stir up tension. Either way, Imogen didn’t trust his judgment or his motives and prepared to intervene if she must.
She leaned against the wall next to the door and shut her eyes to focus her hearing as best as she could past the thick durasteel wall. Through the Force, she could pinpoint each of their positions and the vibration of their voices became clear in her ears.
“I didn’t realize you two were back to your original arrangement,” Cassian said.
“We’re not,” Bix replied curtly.
“No? Then what was all that about?”
“We’re trying something different.”
Cassian scoffed. “Different. With her?”
“Yeah. With her,” Bix asserted and Imogen sensed that she placed her hands on her hips as irritation began to swell in the mechanic’s chest.
“Alright then.”
“Look, did you just come in here to rag on my personal life choices or was there actually a point to this conversation?”
“I’m not ragging,” he insisted, shrugging his shoulders defensively. “I just – I don’t get it.”
“Well, you sound pretty judgmental. Which is rich coming from you, Cass.”
“At least I haven’t slept with an Imperial Inquisitor.”
“She’d do anything for me.”
Cassian did not try to hide his disdain. “Where have I heard that before?”
“Imogen is not Timm,” Bix snapped.
Under normal circumstances, Imogen would never allow anyone to come to her defense. All that mattered was that she had enough power to stand up for herself. And yet… she realized that no one ever has spoken up for her in any capacity. The utter conviction in Bix’s statement filled her with an unexpected swell of pride.
“No,” Cassian agreed patronizingly. “Timm never waved a red laser sword in anyone’s face.”
The jab only seemed to antagonize the mechanic more. “What is your problem?”
The two of them struggled to keep their tones leveled, but as tensions grew, so did their volume. Even in an enclosed space, their disagreement would certainly be heard by anyone that walked by. Imogen didn’t even have to hold her focus through the Force to hear them clearly any longer. Cassian must not have cared because he knew many others held the same prejudices against Imogen that he did. Bix clearly had no issue voicing her opposite opinion.
Imogen loved her for it.
“I don’t know, I just,” he stammered over his argument once again and sighed. “I think there are better options out there –”
“What, like you?”
“Come on, you know that isn’t what I’m trying to say.”
“Then what are you trying to say? Explain it to me.”
Imogen’s patience for eavesdropping wore thin and the discomfort she sensed in Bix only made her own anger rise. The bounty hunter pushed away from the wall and took an assertive step towards the room, fully intending to assure Cassian of her permanence at Bix’s side, but his next words made her hesitate.
“I’m worried for you, being with someone like that,” he said earnestly
There was a pause. Bix did not abandon her stern tone, but Imogen heard it soften ever so slightly as she responded. “She won’t do anything that I don’t ask her to do.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m worried about.”
“Oh, so you’re afraid of me now, too?”
“I’m afraid of how she’ll change you.”
Another tense beat of silence passed between the two of them. Imogen absorbed Cassian’s words and they left a bitter taste on her mouth. He sounded like Cal, making it seem as if darkness only corrupted. Darkness could bring strength. Darkness could bring power. Imogen would not change Bix, Bix would change herself into whatever she needed to be. That is what Cassian truly feared, whether he realized it or not.
“I’ve already changed. And Imogen had nothing to do with it. So do us both a favor and mind your fucking business from now on,” Bix said firmly.
The mechanical door suddenly slid open and Bix came into view as she stormed away from the conversation, coming up short once she spotted Imogen. Her eyes widened slightly and she quickly glanced behind her, but Cassian hadn’t made his retreat from the room yet.
“Are you alright?” Imogen asked. The urge to confront Cassian herself remained, though she doubted any of her intentions towards him would improve his reservations about her.
Bix continued to briskly walk away, reaching out for Imogen’s waist to usher them along — or more likely move her as far away from Cassian as they could get in order to avoid a possible blood feud. “How much of that did you hear?”
“All of it,” Imogen casually admitted.
“Don’t let it get to you, alright?” Bix rubbed her hand up and down Imogen’s back. Whether her intentions were to pacify herself or the dangerous woman next to her, it was difficult to say. Imogen still accepted her touch.
“While he made a fool of himself… some of his concerns are not entirely unfounded,” she said slowly.
Bix shot her a deeply confused look. “Are you saying you care what Cassian thinks?”
“No,” Imogen replied with a scoff. “I simply mean that he harbors the same judgments everyone else holds against me. I have accepted them long ago and so should you, lest that scowl overstays its welcome.”
The mechanic shook her head bitterly, ignoring Imogen’s attempt to lighten her mood. “They just don’t know you.”
“And they never will. Not like you do.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Bix pointed out as she came to a stop in a secluded corner of the hallway. “All he sees is the Inquisitor.”
Imogen tried not to roll her eyes. “I have nothing to prove to him or anyone else. Why should I waste my time with such an endeavor? Especially when they are not wrong.”
“They are wrong.”
“No, they aren’t. Not about me. Not about us.” Imogen placed her hands on Bix’s arms. Her caress had a sort of melancholy that lingered in the small smile across her lips. “I do not believe I am the best option for you, but I will be yours for as long as you’ll have me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bix asked incredulously and shook off her touch.
Imogen felt a tightness at the back of her throat. She moistened her lips and swallowed with difficulty, her voice hollow. “Have you considered that your feelings for me might be influenced by gratitude? By the simple fact that I got to you first on Ferrix? Would it not be Cassian’s embrace you’d wish to fall into every night had it been him?”
It deeply pained Imogen to voice an insecurity that she had failed to bury. The way Bix had looked at her differently since Ferrix filled Imogen with a warmth that she had never experienced before, but she could not shake the whisper at the back of her mind that gradually became another scream in the cacophony. A part of her did not care if it was true, she would be grateful to have Bix in any capacity. But the much larger part that truly loved her felt she needed to hear those words.
An intense and furious expression twisted Bix’s features as her body stiffened. She fixed Imogen with such a hard look that the bounty hunter nearly took a step back.
“Fuck you,” Bix said with a shocking amount of venom. Imogen realized her grave mistake, then, and it felt like a harsh slap to the face. “And fuck what you’re insinuating.”
“Bix–”
“And I’ll tell you why you’re wrong,” she continued fiercely and took an assertive step towards Imogen, entering her space. It wasn’t until that moment that Imogen noticed she had, in fact, backed away. “What I feel for you was there before all of this. So, despite what you might think of me, I won’t just fall for the first fucking person who comes to my rescue!”
Imogen’s gaze became downcast in shame before she responded softly “Forgive me. I misspoke.”
“You sure did,” Bix snarled bitterly. She turned to walk away and Imogen felt conflicted on whether or not she should follow.
She refrained from pursuit, but she couldn’t help calling out after her. “You know I don’t truly think that.”
Bix hesitated. Some of the tension dispersed from her shoulders as she released a weary sigh and glanced back. “You still don’t believe that I can love you for you. I thought we were past this, Imogen.”
“I do not doubt you.”
“Some part of you does.”
“Maybe… But I swear not to give voice to those thoughts ever again.” She dared a step towards the mechanic.
Bix held up a hand to stop her. “Look, first it was Cassian and now it’s you, just… give me some time, okay?”
Imogen hated Cassian. And she wasn’t particularly fond of herself at the moment, either. She conceded. “Of course.”
As she watched Bix walk away, Imogen felt the invisible tether between them tighten. Disbelief filled the pit of embarrassment in her gut as she tried to make sense of what just happened. She knew better. Imogen knew better and still she plucked out the most absurd thought from the back of her mind and spoke it out loud like a witless scoundrel. If her utter foolishness is what finally made the tether snap, she would never forgive herself.
Hours passed and Imogen kept herself scarce until evening approached and she could sequester herself to the comfort of her own ship. Though, The Huntress felt far colder and emptier than it ever has before.
Imogen ate a quick supper and prepared for bed early. As she settled into the cot, silence sounded more unbearable than a cacophony of tangled voices. The longer she stewed in the memory of her own foolish words, the more Imogen felt like she could hear the shouting of those imaginary voices at the back of her mind. Some sounded like her own voice. Others sounded like her Master. They sounded like Vader. They sounded like Cal.
They sounded like Bix.
After a while — or an eternity — Imogen groaned and sat up in the cot, swinging her legs over the side and contemplating numerous methods to get her brain to shut off. All felt fruitless.
Then she sensed a familiar presence approach, making her spine perk up like an alert animal.
The entrance to The Huntress whooshed open and Bix trudged in, looking as exhausted and dejected as Imogen felt. The bounty hunter couldn’t deny the immediate feeling of serenity at the sight of her lover, but she still gripped the edge of the cot and half expected another round of disciplining.
The mechanic came to a stop before her and crossed her arms, appearing less stern than earlier, but Imogen still noted the twitch of her jaw. They simply breathed in the tense air for a few long beats until she finally spoke.
“You didn’t come to bed.” Bix tried to hide it, but she sounded hurt.
“You asked for time,” Imogen replied pointedly.
The mechanic sighed as she stared down at the floor and shook her head. “I didn’t mean the whole night, I’m sorry.”
“You should not apologize.”
“I want to,” Bix insisted as she stepped closer to the cot. Her fingers twitched in a subtle fidget at her sides. “What you said earlier –”
“Was careless.”
“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Yeah, it was. But I know you didn’t mean it that way. I’ve been thinking about it and you’re not entirely wrong. Well, you are when it comes to Cassian, but about gratitude...” Bix’s shoulders lifted as she took in a deep breath, her gaze shifting over the interior of the ship that she knew as well as her own home back on Ferrix. “I’ve always wanted to be near you, but after everything you’ve done for me, it feels less like a want and more like a need. I don’t know, but I start to lose my mind a little bit when you’re gone. Even with how upset I was earlier, a part of me still hoped you’d come after me.”
Imogen took a quiet moment to contemplate the confession. She understood Bix’s words because she had seen the evidence. All that she missed was the true extent of her suspicion. But before Imogen allowed her emotions to settle, she offered one single question.
“Does that bother you?”
“No,” Bix answered confidently and closed the distance between them. She reached out and took a strand of Imogen’s hair between her fingers. “Does it bother you?”
It should, her thoughts responded immediately without voicing it. Imogen recognized this attachment had grown to an intensity Bix did not have full control over. She recognized it because it was the same attachment she had within herself. As if Bix were a vital organ her body would not survive without.
Could Imogen’s devotion still be pure in that case? Did it matter? It certainly did not feel like it did when her beloved gazed down at her with a mixture of adoration and concern.
“No,” Imogen said and accepted that for all it could possibly mean.
A small smile of relief brightened the mechanic’s features. “Good,” she said. Bix placed her hands on Imogen’s shoulders and pulled herself down onto the bounty hunter’s lap. “Because I’m done arguing with people about loving you.”
Imogen’s arms automatically wrapped around Bix’s waist to keep her close. She grew weary of the discourse as well, but she did not wish to see Bix angry with those she held dear – no matter how much Imogen detested them. “They argue because they care.”
“I know.” Bix leaned in until their foreheads touched, her hands coming up to rest against Imogen’s cheeks. “But they should see how you make me feel.”
Imogen felt her face flush with a warm grin at that. “You were right earlier.”
“About what?”
Their lips brushed together. Chaste at first. More of an innocent expression of her fondness. Then Imogen tightened her grip around the woman in her embrace as she deepened the kiss. Many emotions were conveyed in the cadence she led. Her kiss was possessive as she lightly nipped at Bix’s lower lip. It was passionate as the tip of her tongue greeted hers. It was desperate as short breaths escaped their lungs and tickled their skin. It was everything.
Imogen finally pulled back, but only the smallest amount to utter her answer. “I would do anything for you.”
tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @socially-awkward-skeleton @neonshrike @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @florbelles @adelaidedrubman @simonxriley @tommyarashikage @buggknife @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @d-esmond @loriane-elmuerto @shellibisshe @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @strangefable @statichvm @sevikagf @cptcassian @hexmaturgy @auricfog @confidentandgood @e-the-village-cryptid @raresvtm @minaharkers
#oc insp: imogen kol#ship insp: if i had a heart#prompts: if I had a heart#bix caleen#I love writing Imogen having beef with men tbh#I’d say Imogen and Cassian may develop a bit of a frenemy dynamic similar to Cal but she would never view Cass on the same level as Cal#in her mind Cassian is extra lame because he can’t even move things with his mind so why would she bother having fun w him#nah. Cal is the only Tom to her Jerry. unfortunately for him.#she’ll just begrudgingly accept that Cass is important to Bix#and try to be satisfied with her fantasies about killing him since he's off limits#sorry for reposting old writing. feel free to ignore for those that have already read parts of this#I'm mostly trying to organize my writing a little more/preserving the stuff I do like before it gets altered in the final fic
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on a quest to find more than 2 good scogan fics... so far unsuccessfully
#don't get me wrong i would never slag off anyone's fic#it's free art people you gotta be respectful#but if it's not for you then you click the that little X or <- button and move on#and let me tell you i have been clicking...#it's just... the characterisation is not there a lot of them seem to have the exact same overly specific premise/trope/nicknames#i never heard them use before#(and there are A Lot of canon nicknames as it is like for a grumpy old man logan loves his petnames lmao)#and i'm starting to feel like people have no idea who scott summers is in general#their dynamic is fucking legendary and no one is implementing it into their fics and i don't know why#but istg if i gotta write it myself!!#ramblings#scogan
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The Reluctant Reunion |M/M| Chapter 1/13
This a story about my OC's Connor and Felix.
Felix finds himself out in public with a cold that's significantly worsening minute by minute. Before he can flee to his home to wallow alone in misery, though, he runs into his ex-boyfriend, author Connor Hayes.
Word Count: 3,195
Link to all chapters: The Reluctant Reunion
Felix stands with the paperback book open, both hands fiercely grasping the front and back cover, his gaze eyelids shuttering open and closed again and again. He feels his mouth involuntarily part as small gasps come out in a rhythmic pattern. He is not pleased by the highly audible quality the gasps had to them — subtle, they are not. He scrunches up his nose, but all this seems to do is send the army of ants he would swear had invaded his nostrils, deeper into his nasal passages.
“HEH —” his breath hitches once again.
Felix concentrates on doing his best to take small breaths, intending for the breaths to go along on a smooth, uneventful trip through his sinuses. He has, after all, been breathing for thirty-two years, at this point. It shouldn’t be a hard concept for his body to grasp.
HeeEEHHH NGT’CHOOOOOO!
Felix winces and he feels his cheeks burn. He stares at the open book that appears slightly different than it had just moments before — now with visible droplets coating the pages. He closes the book and sheepishly puts it back in its rightful place. He spares a moment trying to recall exactly how long cold viruses could live on paper surfaces. He hoped it wasn’t too long and that nobody else with a proclivity toward non-fiction books about crocodiles would find themselves opening the book up to the same page any time soon.
He was honestly fine an hour ago. “Fine” possibly wasn’t the best adjective to describe his state, he could amend, but he definitely hadn’t been sneezing. If he’d been sneezing, he’d never have left his house. It’d just been a slight runny nose, which wasn’t at all unusual for him during a morning in winter. In fact, he’d still be clinging on with desperation that he was, indeed, perfectly healthy, if it wasn’t for his throat. What had begun as a slight scratchy sensation upon waking up, has turned into what could only be described as painful. It becomes more clear by each second to Felix, especially as he sniffles back an alarming amount of liquid, that he is not well enough to be out in public.
“HEH’CHOOO!”
Felix, once again, found himself wincing. He looked at his arm, which, thankfully had caught most of the spray, but he knew a fair bit had to be circulating throughout the air, as well. He determines not only is he coming down with a cold, he is coming down with a bad cold. A bad cold that provokes sudden, unstoppable sneezes, which happen to be Felix’s very least favorite types of colds. It’s not that he enjoys colds, by any means, but there is definitely a difference between spending a few days blowing his nose while watching movies on the couch, and whatever he now feels himself coming down with. Felix can’t remember the last time he’d failed to stifle a sneeze.
As a rule, when in public, Felix never lets a sneeze go freely, unless he has a tissue available. As a high school Biology teacher, he has a general knowledge of the ease at which viruses could spread, and he has no interest in sending his gross droplets of viral doom out into the world to possibly infect others. So, typically, he holds back his sneezes as best as he can, letting out only a loud “H’gnxt,” sound that inevitably provokes such questions as “What the fuck was that noise you just made?” or “Was that a sneeze? Or a hiccup??” or “Did you know you can bust your eardrums that way?” Regardless of how undignified his stifles make him feel, he feels much less dignified when he fully gives into their force. The attention makes his skin crawl and he much prefers the reactions to his stifles than the reactions of his full-blown sneezes. It’s never been difficult for him to hold back— he doesn’t even have to pinch his nose. It’s always just a quick bob of his head, and then he moves along with his life.
Except now.
“Heeeehhhh — HEHH —Hehh Ngk’CHOO!”
It’s becoming increasingly clear to Felix that he has to go. He needs to leave the bookstore he’d never had any business walking into, and he needs to do it quickly. While that one had been caught in his elbow, it was exceptionally productive, and the sight of his flannel sleeve makes him nearly gag. He knows the best course of action is to go home, lie down, and desperately clutch his tissue box, feeling sorry for himself, as he waits for the virus to leave his system.
It’s an especially busy day at the bookstore, which is unfortunate for him. His sniffles — which, at that moment, have become a nearly constant addition to his existence — have a deep, harsh quality to them. He knows the sound can not be mistaken as anything other than the sound of someone absolutely riddled with a cold. He recognizes the way his nose is incessantly running as a truly bad sign, as, again, he’d been effectively fine just an hour ago. He frowns as he considers the quick onset of his symptoms. He, once again, scrunches up his nose, hoping to send the oncoming tickle away so he can exit the bookstore without making any more of a spectacle of himself.
“Heh-HUH-KNNG’CHHOO!” Felix sniffles after this unexpectedly congested and violent sneeze. Four sneezes within a few minutes is also not a good sign.
“Bless you!” exclaims a woman shopping nearby. Through his sneezy haze, he hadn’t realized anyone was near him.
“Oh, uh, thanks,” he mutters, sniffling, since apparently even a slight amount of dignity was not in the cards for him that day.
“You sound like you’ve got that nasty cold going around. I’ve just gotten over it, myself. I thought I’d never stop sneezing. Nearly everyone I know came down with it.”
Felix gazes at her through watery eyes, intending to mutter something noncommittal and then move on and finally leave the store.
Instead what comes out is “Eck-nngg’tCHOO!” which he barely manages to cover with his hands. He sniffles. And sniffles again. And sniffles yet again.
The woman smiles sympathetically at him. “Yep, that was me just a few days ago. You should be in bed praying for the sweet release of death. What’s so important that it’s got out here while so sick?” She pauses, brows furrowed. “Oh! Are you here for the signing, too?”
Now it’s Felix’s turn to furrow his brows. “Signing?” he asks, hating the way his congestion seems to have impeded his ability to pronounce his ‘n’s.
“Oh, yeah, there’s a book signing today that’s supposed to happen in, like, 10 minutes or something. By that sci-fi author. What’s his name? Connor…. Connor something. Connor Hamilton? Connor Haven…. That’s not right. It’s on the tip of my tongue. I hate it when that happens. I’m so close to figuring it out. It’s definitely Connor something. But haven’t you seen the signs everywhere? That’s why it’s so busy in here.”
Felix listens as the friendly woman’s voice continues on, but his mind gets caught up in the beginning of her ramblings when she mentions the name “Connor” in the same sentence as “sci-fi author.”
“Um,” he starts, and pauses to sniffle and swipes his nose across his sleeve. “Is it… Is it Connor Hayes?” he asks, hesitantly, bracing himself for the response he knows is to come.
“Oh my god, thank you! Yes! Connor Hayes. My girlfriend’s read a few of his books and loves them. She was actually the one who wanted to come, but she’s currently laid up with what I’d bet money on is the same cold you have right now. I promised I’d get one of his books signed for her. She’d tried coming herself, but I told her he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to get sneezed all over - fan, or not.”
It’s at this point, Felix notices the hardcover book she has tucked into her arm. The picture of the aforementioned Connor Hayes smiling up at him from the back cover. He closes his eyes and takes what’s intended to be a deep, calming breath. He should have known better.
“‘N’gnnkkkchoo! G’nnKCHOO!”
Both sneezes are released aggressively into his hands, which are currently formed into a tent around his nose and mouth — a gesture he has no plans of letting go of any time soon. He meets the woman’s gaze, hoping to convey the message of please, if you have any human decency at all, go far away and never think about this moment again.
His telepathy skills, however, are clearly on the fritz because this is not what she does. “Oh my goodness! Hold on, I’ve got you covered. Just wait a second,” she says as she frantically digs through her purse. She finally digs out a wad of tissues. A literal wad.
Felix, hands still cupped over his nose and mouth, skeptically looks at this stranger as she holds out crumpled tissues for him to apparently use.
“Oh! They’re clean, I promise. I’d just gotten in the habit last week of grabbing tissues from the box and stuffing them in my purse before I left the house. Seriously, they’re clean.”
Felix notices the way she’s eying the tissues carefully, as though she’s not actually as sure as she’s claiming she is. Felix is concerned for all of three seconds before his breath starts hitching in a wildly embarrassing way. He immediately reaches out one hand toward the tissue wad of dubious cleanliness, and all but shoves them into his face as he violently gives into the tickle that had been pestering him.
“HAHHH-MM'pt'CHOOO!” It scrapes through his throat, and he has no choice but to blow his nose, which is something he can’t remember ever doing in public before. He and the woman both grimace at the sound.
“Uh, Jesus, sorry about that. And, um, thanks for the tissues,” he says, sending a soft smile to the woman.
“Oh my god, don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’ve been there. It’s a nasty cold, for sure. What you need to do is rest a ton and drink a lot of water.” She pauses looking over Felix’s shoulder. “Holy shit…. That’s him, I think. Connor Hanes! He’s coming toward us. Why would he be coming toward us? Kate would freak out if she were here right now.”
“Hayes, not Hanes,” Felix corrects, absentmindedly, as he debates his next course of action.
He could just walk away without turning around and pretend he had no clue about the signing, or about the fact that Connor was apparently walking his way. He could turn around and smile at Connor and project to him the impression that he is doing quite well and hasn’t, in fact, spent the last year grieving the loss of what he’d thought was the great love of his life. He could take the passive aggressive route and say “Oh, Connor! I’m so surprised to see you back in my shitty town with its shitty people. From what I recall, in fairly vivid detail, I might add, you said there was absolutely nothing here worth staying for.” Or he could simply say “Hey, I’ve gotta be on my way. Enjoy your signing!” There’s many things he could do. But he does none of these things.
What he does do is sneeze.
“G’nnnxkkkk’tcCHOO!” The stifle fails in a dramatic way that causes the stranger to avert her gaze away from Connor and instead land on Felix, who once again is hiding his streaming face with his hands.
While she rummages through her purse, most likely looking for more tissues, Felix has no choice but to look up at him. Thankfully a bookstore employee stops Connor in his tracks, appearing to ask him a question.
“Hey, listen, uh….” Felix starts, looking at the woman, then frowns. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Annie! It’s Annie. Sorry, I’m trying to find more tissues, but I think I’m out. You can probably go up to the checkout and see if they have any. Or, I don’t know, just go into the bathroom.”
Felix shakes his head vigorously, knowing there’s no way this woman (Annie, he reminds himself) can possibly understand the severity of the situation he’s in. But he knows there’s no possibility of going anywhere in that direction because that’s where Connor is. There’s no way he’s walking past Connor. So, he instead walks straight past Annie to ensure he goes in the opposite direction of Connor. Felix has been accused in the past of having questionable decision-making skills. He spares a moment to reflect on how this current decision is a good example of why all those accusations were correct. Because now he’s completely away from any kind of exit that would allow him to actually get away from this nightmare of a situation.
But he continues walking, sighing as he resigns himself to wiping his nose with his sleeve.
“So, what’s up exactly? Are you hiding from him?”
Felix’s heart stops in his chest before he realizes the voice is coming from Annie. He hadn’t realized she’d followed him.
He sniffles and says “No. I mean… No. Hiding from who? Why would I hide from anyone?”
Annie smiles. “Sorry. It’s just that I noticed you were staring at that author. Connor Hanes. And then you just bolted.”
“Hayes. It’s Connor Hayes,” he corrects, automatically, but instantly regrets it.
She stares at him. “Right,” she says, elongating the vowel sound. “See, it’s kind of strange that you are familiar with his name, yet you were shocked when I mentioned he was doing a book signing here. I mean, if you know about him, shouldn’t you be excited to see him? Or, I don’t know, indifferent, at the very least? But you’re running away from him.”
Felix just stares at her — at this woman who he’s known for all of 10 minutes. It’s not that Felix hates talking to people. This woman certainly seems nice. But he has a natural disdain for these types of situations where he’s expected to share information about himself to people he hardly knows. His plan that morning had entailed shopping for books and possibly grabbing a coffee from the connected coffee shop. But, now, he finds himself running away from someone he hasn’t seen in a year while his nose does an impression of a faucet. All while this stranger looks at him, expectantly. He opens his mouth to explain that its personal information he doesn’t feel up to sharing.
“We, uh, we used to date,” Felix finds himself saying, instead.
Annie’s eyes widen. “Oh my god! You dated Connor Hanes?” she practically shouts.
“Shh! Yes, be quiet! Please. I don’t want him to hear us. And that’s…. That’s not his name. I mean, are you doing that on purpose?”
“Oh, shit, sorry. It’s Hayes, right? Anyway, sorry for being loud. Okay, I get why you don’t want him to see you. I mean, no offense or anything, but….” she stops and gestures widely at Felix’s face, as though that explains everything. Felix sighs, as he realizes it probably does.
“Yeah, I get it. I’m not exactly at my best. And our breakup wasn’t on the best of terms. I just want out of here, you know?” Felix explains, pinching the bridge of his nose, wishing he could just vanish from this situation.
“Oh, I get it. He’s an asshole, right? The author types usually are. You think they’re gentle and introspective, but they usually turn out to be pretentious dicks.”
Felix shakes his head. “No, he’s not like that at all. He is gentle. But, also an asshole. It’s just complicated, okay? I’m not ready to talk to him and I need to leave before he sees me.”
He notices Annie is biting her lip “Uh, yeah, totally makes sense, but, uh, he’s definitely already seen you. I mean, he’s been staring at you the whole time. I’m pretty sure the only reason he’s not over here right now is because that bookstore guy is talking to him.”
Felix sighs and hangs his head, at a loss for what to do. “Fuck. I think I’m going to have to talk to him,” he begrudgingly admits.
Annie’s still staring ahead, but she nods, giving him a sad smile. “Yeah, without a doubt. He will not stop looking at you.”
Felix is reminded he’s coming down with a cold when the tickle returns. He is determined to stifle these if it takes every particle of willpower in his body. There’s not a chance he’s letting Connor’s impression of Felix’s current state of life to be as a gross, sniffly mess who sprays sneezes all over bookstores.
He can feel the sneeze making its way through his nasal passages. He feels the need to release getting closer and closer until it reaches its peak and —
“Ngxx’t.”
There’s barely any sound.
Felix smiles at Annie as though she has any emotional investment at all in Felix’s ability to suppress a sneeze. But she apparently does because she smiles and pretends to clap and says “Congrats! That was barely even noticeable!” Then she sharply gasps and returns to digging in her purse. Felix hears the distinct sound of a zipper opening.
“Yes! I knew I had more,” Annie proudly states, as she holds another wad of tissues.
Felix, deciding Annie is the best stranger he’s ever met, grabs the tissues and just blows. He makes sure his back is still turned toward Connor, so when he’s finally no longer occupied, he won’t see Felix evacuating out what has to be his entire soul into the tissues. He blows and blows until the tissues are soggy, vile, and utterly spent. “Okay, Annie, how sick do I sound? On a scale from 1-10? 1 being ‘oh the weather’s cold and it’s making my nose a little sniffly’ and 10 being ‘get away from me you disgusting plague-carrier?’”
“Hmm,” Annie says, clearly considering the question seriously. “Honestly, before that crazy nose blow, I would’ve probably said a six or a seven. I mean, absolutely no offense, but you were congested as hell. But now, I think you could pass for a three. Maybe a two if you try hard enough.”
Finding his spirits uplifted, he smiles at Annie. “Okay, a two. I can manage a two.”
"HAHH - gnxt’CHOOO! Goddammit!”
“Oof… I hate to say it, but you’re definitely back to a 7.” She pauses as he glares at her. “Oh, shit! He’s done talking to that guy. He’s coming over here! Good luck!” she whispers, as she hurries away. He finally turns around and looks up at Connor.
“Felix?”
The name is spoken simply in a soft tone he was once quite familiar with. It sends him back a year ago when the name was said with unmistakable affection. Or, at least, Felix had thought the affection had been unmistakable.
Because in the end, Connor had left Felix as though he’d never mattered at all.
Part 2
#trying to post here is honestly making me feel SO old right now#i spent every waking moment of my early twenties on tumblr but now i have no idea what i'm doing#i'm guessing i just post all 13 chapters of this thing in 13 separate posts but boy does that sound arduous#it would've been a lot easier if i'd been doing it at the same time i'd been posting it to the forum though#snz kink#sneezeblr#sickfic#sneezefic#snz fic
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Fic-to-Art #42: Hotaru, Mari and Zi
This month, our prompt was children, specifically our next gen kiddos in Gladiator. Surprising very few people, this little trio got the win, even though another trio (Yue's kids!) were really close runner-ups! It's a lot more interesting to write kid characters than I ever expected, even in a story as dark as what I work on. The dynamics between these three will be lots of fun to write someday, I know it! But for now, we get to enjoy a glimpse of them together in art form, with Mari having given the three of them makeovers with all those ponytails and pigtails and what have you x'D
I really hope you guys enjoy this piece, it was a lot of fun to work on <3 they're adorable cousins and it's always wonderful to think of how their eventual bond will be undisputable proof that their world is healing for good, after all the efforts of their respective parents.
If you'd like to be part of the creative process behind these pieces, a $1 pledge makes you eligible for voting and suggesting prompts, as well as reading Gladiator snippets 6 days before the new chapter releases!
#fic-to-art project#gladiator#hotaru#mari#zi#sokkla#zuki#implied by the obvious fact that those are their babies#yes hotaru being the littlest makes me feel fuzzy feelings#I'm not entirely sure how old they are here but they definitely look older than what I was aiming for#suffice to say Hotaru can walk so it's not that close to where we're at#probably not that close to what I'm writing either she's still very baby there#but whatever her age she's never going to stop being cute that's facts#it had been way too long since I last drew Zi I realize#and it's just really nice for my patrons to give me excuses to do it haha#I imagine they're proudly showing their parents just what Mari did#Hotaru is so happy with her little ponytail#it's like dad's wolf's tail!#... kinda#don't tell her it's not the same she is a baby she can't tell the difference yet (?)
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ever since ppl stopped leaving tags/replies in the reblogs of fics i feel like i've completely lost touch with whether or not anyone is even reading the things i write bc i have no reason to go and look at them
#looked at an old fic the other day and it has 5k but under the lord's watchful gaze i could not have told u it was anywhere near that#kind of sad#posting fic sort of feels the same as just saving a wip to my wip folder except nobody can plagiarize fics from the safety of my hard drive#it rly makes u think!!
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How fortunate am I to have so many Things to love and be excited about, to appreciate and look forward to?
Things I feel so strongly about that they stumble into my mind, univited, at random times of the day? Things that spill into my speech and vocabulary without me noticing? Things that impact my vision to the point where everywhere I look, everywhere I go, I see ghosts of them?
How lucky am I to have so many Things I love and cherish enough for them to reshape my very person, change my beliefs and make me grow? Things that make my own loved ones see the Things out in the wild, and go out of their way to make sure I see them too?
How wonderful is it that I have Things that I love so much that the very act is deemed and dubbed "not normal", making my love for them seem like it's more than they are supposed to recieve? An out-of-the-ordinary and above-the-norm appreciation for the Things that make the people around me shake their heads, call me "silly".
My dear, beloved Things, may I always stay silly for you ❤️
#yes this is yet another post about legendborn lmao#but also one of my friends sent me a post with a reminder to log into Genshin today#just to get the birthday-greeting card for one of my/my favorite character#and they send me this because even though it's my favorite character#this person also knows I don't actually play genshin that much and knows that I would probably miss it if they didn't remind me 🥺🥺#and my friends let me yap about Legendborn the other day lol#and my fellow legendbornian-in-crime commented on my insta story about annotating the book that “noone loves this series more than you”#which ofc isn't *TRUE* true but it still made me feel all fuzzy lol#my parents also got me a few sets of silver earrings for christmas bcs I mentioned in passing I wanted more silver jewelry#and one of the pairs they got me was with owls because Owl City has been one of my favorite artists since forever#and I THRIVED in 2012-fashion bcs the owl jewelry was fkn EVERYWHERE and I got SO MANY because it made me think of Owl City lol#and my brother got me The Book Of Bill bcs both he and I love Gravity Falls SO MUCH#I just love ✨️ loving ✨️ things I guess#so this post is very much a love letter to my special interests and hyperfixations <333#currently have had 'Tears Run Dry' by Patrik Jean on repeat for the past 2 or so days bcs it's fkn STUNNING#but it also makes me think about my friend's ArleFuri fic bcs it just fits so welll 😭😭#and at the same time (and the reason I have it so within reach lol) is bcs I have added it to an OC's playlist for a story I'm writing#I have so damn many things I love and I almost start crying thinking about how fortunate I am to have all these things I love so dearly#and live in a time where all of these things exist and I get to experience them all at a moment's notice#and just simply get to indulge in fandom behaviour and have people around me who also LET ME do that#i love hearing people yap about what they're passionate about regardless if I know what it is or not#like how beautiful isnt it to see someone's eyes sparkle and looking like they're itching all over because they simply can't help it#they just can't contain their love and passion for the Thing ??? absolutely incredible#tove rambles#oh and don't fkn get me started on how 'Dream Catcher' by Set It Off basically is the reason I'm so determined to become one#and it being part of how I made my 17-year old self believe I could actually do what I CURRENTLY DO nearly 10 years later
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