#space time police oc

[retshirou]

since i’m already re-posting/posting a lot of my art on here again, i wanted to share my other “flagship selfship” besides Paz and Betrayus: Paddy Cakes and Jurgen from Sam and Max! credit to the last three arts go to @fluffyselfships @toydrill and @/idiotdoodoohead (on instagram!!)

Paddy’s character description under the cut:

Paddy Cakes (full name “Padricia Cakes”) served as the “mascot” of the Toy Mafia, letting her likeness be used for their mind control propoganda dolls while she worked as their boss’s main bodyguard. After the Toy Mafia was blown up by Sam and Max, she had to look for work elsewhere and was quickly recruited to work as Jurgen’s new bodyguard at the Zombie Factory in Stuttgart, Germany. Her continued role in the season’s plots is usually related to Jurgen, with their relationship developing as she continues to have to rescue him and re-evaluate if he’s just her boss or something more.

Paddy’s a typical tough-as-nails mafia goon who’s levels of needless violence rival Max’s (she actually hates him because he’s been the only one to beat her in a fight). However, she’s not really in any of it for the criminal or business side, and more-so has a lot of unchecked emotional aggression she likes to let out through violence. This stoic brooding mask she wears was what caught the eye of the dramatic poet in Jurgen’s spirit, and he was extremely interested in what depths laid beneath this bear that was obviously more than she was letting on. Being raised and trained in the mafia all her life, Paddy never took much priority on or thought her emotions mattered as long as she had a job to do, with Jurgen being the first to take an interest in her as a person beyond just how easily she could crush a guy’s skull. This fixation on her puts her off for the first part of their relationship, but slowly warms her up to the fruity vampire until the two ultimately become inseparable. Which Sam and Max are fine with as it seems to distract them both from causing more shitstorms for everyone else. Nowadays, she likes to vent a lot of her emotions through music instead of fighting, similar to Jurgen. (more through metal than rap poetry though)

[yummy-teeth]

fuuucking*sex8

[vee-the-honorary-dm]

Art dump

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[violet-butterflies]

❥︎ yandere! Dilf Part 3

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ stalking, delusional, homewrecking, mentions of cp being used to frame people ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 1 and Part 2 !

What used to be a sight Junho looks forward to seeing every time he wakes up turned into a harsh reminder that (y/n) is now engaged.

All this time, it turns out that (y/n)'s fiance had been overseas, volunteering to be a teacher in less privileged countries. But now, he's back and as soon as he came back to the country, he asked his girlfriend to marry him.

With a sharp glare to the window he used to see inside (y/n)'s house, Junho sipped in his black coffee; the bitterness in the coffee was nothing compared to how bitter he was feeling inside. The happy couple were chatting over breakfast before they go to work together.

He hates how it has been ever since the announcement. (y/n) used to be able to babysit his precious son every day but now she only is able to watch over his son on weekends. He never gets to see the sight of his love making him dinner and greeting him with a smile after a long day of work anymore since she leaves as soon as he gets home to take care of her fiance.

This also means that he is not able to cuddle with her in his bed anymore.

Junho knew that all of this had escalated to something creepy and he had tried to move on but he couldn't help but feel his blood boil when he saw (y/n)'s fiance work with her in the kindergarten now.

"Daddy... Why doesn't mommy take care of me anymore?" Junho's son, Yoon, asked one day as Junho was tucking his son into bed one night.

"It's... It's complicated, buddy... She'll come back soon I promise." Junho also said that to himself even though it was impossible.

"Oh... I hope she comes back soon... I miss her..." Yoon said before falling asleep, leaving a tired and heartbroken Junho to retreat back into his room.

He then picked up his phone to log into the software he uses to stalk (y/n) through the hidden camera he put inside a stuffed animal he gave to (y/n) one day. He knows he shouldn't do it since it'll only break his heart but he missed her too much.

The first thing he noticed was how the doll wasn't even on her bed anymore; put aside in the corner of her room to make space for the fiance. Then, he noticed a giggly (y/n) who was cuddling in her fiance's arms as the two looked at each other lovingly. It went on for a long while before the two eventually fell asleep in each other's arm and Junho was watching every second of it.

Junho wanted to look away. Watching the two all lovey dovey like that when it should've been him was like when he found out about the news that broke his beautiful fantasy; his heart breaking and set on fire over and over again. But watching them also made him realize how he couldn't let (y/n) go just like that.

Junho knew it was risky business breaking into the kindergarten both (y/n) and her fiance taught in in the middle of the night. It was also risky to somehow get his hands on some nsfw videos and pictures of children to plant in the fiance's work computer.

He figured out that the computers inside the kindergarten had no password from (y/n) due to the computers only being used to play children music, print coloring pages or making some worksheets for the kids. The teachers in the kindergarten don't really worry what's on hiding what's in their work computers since there's nothing really important on them anyway.

Junho had a plan all prepared. He was going to plant the evidence and call the police the next day. He was going to say that he saw one of the teachers working at his son's kindergarten was looking at some illegal media and then get the bastard that stole his beloved from him behind bars.

Plus, when it makes (y/n) react negatively he can swoop in and make her feel all better! In Junho's mind, he is killing two birds with one stone.

He knew that the plan would work and it did. The next day, the police took (y/n)'s fiance into custody when he was picking his son up from school. The other kindergarten teachers were looking at the whole arrest in shock while (y/n) was trying to understand what was going on. She was confused on why her fiance was getting arrested and she wanted to know what happened.

The next few days were hectic for (y/n). Her house had to be searched by the police for evidence since that's where her fiance had been staying ever since he came back to the country. It didn't help when the police began speculating that she was also in on it at some point before the idea was brushed off.

(y/n) felt as if she did not knew who her fiance really was. She thought there was nothing she didn't know about him since they were high school sweethearts and when the police told her that someone reported seeing her fiance having videos of children in a nsfw way, she felt her heart break.

As a teacher and his fiance, she felt disgusted at how her fiance for having those materials while teaching around children.

It was midnight when (y/n) was sitting in the middle of the kitchen as she drank a bottle of wine. Her eyes were puffy from crying since her emotions were still running wild and how betrayed she felt towards her fiance.

The house was dark and deathly silent other from the sobs coming out of (y/n). Where had it all gone wrong? When did her fiance started to watch these illegal videos? Had he engaged in abusing these children himself? (y/n) didn't know and she didn't really want to know since her heart will only break further thinking of how sorry she felt for any victims her fiance could have abused.

The doorbell then resonated throughout the empty house making (y/n) jump. She tiredly wiped her tears as she walked over to the front door, not noticing how she was still holding onto the bottle of wine.

When she opened the door, she saw a concerned looking Junho in front of the door.

"Junho..." (y/n) tried to greet before breaking into tears again and sinking into the ground. Her hand dropping the wine bottle and began covering her crying face.

In an instant, Junho sank down alongside her as he took the shaking into his muscular arms.

"shh... shh... don't worry... I'm here..." Junho tried to reassure as he rubbed circles on her back to try and calm her down.

Junho had to stop himself from taking a big sniff at when (y/n) began to nuzzle herself into his arms. He truly missed having (y/n) in his arms again after the mental turmoil he experienced looking at how happy she was with a man that wasn't him.

All of that won't matter anymore though since the fiance is now out of the picture and Junho will gladly play the role of (y/n)'s loving husband.

A/N HI IM BACK BUT NOT RLLY SINCE IM ACTUALLY STILL RLLY BUSY SO I DON'T KNOW WHEN I'LL UPLOAD AGAIN AAA.

[janamensch]

A completely canon drawing of how Juliett and Emmanuel met

Juliett has a great day everyday. June only has a great day if she doesn’t see Juliett. (Because she always gets her in trouble)

[darkbluekies]

Omgg can u pls do Silas with a track runner reader?

Pls n Thxx❤️

Run, my little dove

Mafia!yandere OC x trackrunner!reader

Summary: Silas gives in and lets you run for once to be a cover for his mission. But he gets jealous because of the situation and decides to show everyone that you're his.

Warnings: threats, mention of death, isolation, jealousy, nsfw indication

Word count: 1.1k

Ever since Silas took you, you haven’t been able to compete and have barely been allowed to practice your running skills. Silas, that absolute sadist, has locked you into his bedroom where there’s not enough space to run. You think you’ll go insane. You need to move! Your bones are itching when you sit still for too long, and it results in you being disobedient because you can’t control yourself.

One day, he gets a mission that makes him have to be at a stadium, and what better cover than letting you compete in the running? You're a famous track runner after all and letting you compete will give him a justified reason why he's there. Otherwise the police will question him right away. Everyone knows you belong to him. This will be perfect.

"My little darling~", he sing-songs as he enters the bedroom.

You look at him with tired eyes from the bed.

"I have a surprise for you", he smiles.

"I don't want more jewelry …", you whisper.

"It's not jewelry."

"Then what?"

He crouches down in front of the bed with a smug smile.

"What if I told you that youre allowed to compete?"

Your eyes widen.

"A-Are you for real?" you ask carefully.

"One time", he says and break out into a genuine smile. "You're allowed to compete one time."

Before you can stop yourself, excitement has taken over you. You throw your arms around his neck tightly and repeats 'thank you' more times than you can count. He chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist in return.

"My pretty baby", he murmurs. "I'd do anything for you."

Be doesn't tell you that the only reason you're allowed to do it is because of his mission. You're only his cover.

"Give me a kiss", Silas says. "Show me how grateful you are."

You pull back to kiss his lips once. He locks his hand behind your neck to keep you there and deepen the kiss for as long as he wants to. You're sure that your lips are either swollen or bruised by the time he pulls back.

"I'm going to get you clothes and a temporary spot in the team", he promises. "And if you win … I'll reward you."

"Really? With what?"

"What would you like?"

"To continue running."

He thinks. "Maybe I can arrange that."

"Thank you so much, Silas."

He melts at your genuine smile. He doesn't see much of that now that you're with him. With his thumb, he traces your lips, admiring them.

A week later, you're escorted out onto the field by Silas' right hand man. Silas himself is sitting in the audience — in the front row. His men are currently hiding among the regular people, searching for the enemy. Silas is supposed to do the same, but he can't stop watching you. You meet his eyes and he smiles widely. You know that everyone here knows who Silas is and by the way he looks at you they'll soon know that you belong to him as well. You'll never be able to leave him now. No one will dare come close to you if they know who you has claimed you.

You turn back to the field, waiting for your signal you've run. You haven't been running for a while, but under the week you've trained on a treadmill. Hopefully it's enough. You're shaking with nervousness, but you tell yourself that you've done this before, that this is nothing new.

The second you hear your signal, you run. Heart beating loud in your ears, the only thing you hear is your own encouragement. Run faster, you can do it.

Silas is watching while biting his lip. He doesn't want to admit how terrified he is of you losing. He knows how you'll beat yourself down because of it. He starts to look around to see how the mission is going and catches the eyes of his men. They're nodding — they have the enemy. Silas smirks and leans back in his seat. Now his part of the visit is done and he'll take care of his enemy later. If you lose, he'll take out his anger on his enemy.

You win and oh, how Silas gets proud of you! He stands up and waves at you to run over. He gets out of the booth to wrap you in his arms. You run over to the audience and he bends down to cup your cheeks and kiss you. It's as if you can hear the entire arena gasp.

"Now they know you're mine", he smiles and hugs you to his chest. "Now the whole world will know. Good job by the way. My best baby."

You don't turn around to face the crowd after. Everyone will judge you, everyone will know.

"I'm twice as happy", Silas whispers smugly, thinking of his succeeded mission, "that I might keep you up all night."

…this sexual bastard-

"I want to leave now", you mumble into his black coat. "Can we leave?"

"You need to go get your prize", Silas says and takes your hand. "I'll come with you, let's go."

Walking across the field yo get your medal might be the hardest thing you've ever done. Everyone’s eyes follow you. Their thoughts are screaming through the air and all you want is to bury yourself six feet down. You reach the prize podium.

"We will not stay for the ceremony", Silas says coldly to the man holding the medals. "Give my baby their medal and we'll be on our way."

The man's arm is shaking as he holds out the medal. Silas takes it from him and gives it to you. You look at the shiny gold.

"You did well-", the man says, but gets cut off by Silas cold tone.

"Don't speak to them", he warns him. "Unless you want to be dead by sunrise, that is."

"O-Of course, I'm sorry."

Silas starts to pull you with him out of the stadium. He praises you for being such a good sport all the way to the black car. His chauffeur holds the door open for the both of you. Silas likes this man, he never talks to you and gets you where you need to go quick and easy.

After this day, you're allowed to run again. Silas usually rents whole stadiums or sport centers for you to run alone. Now that everyone knows who you are and you're too ashamed to run among everyone else, you find it nice that he's tented the places for you. He always stands by, timing you or watching. He loves to see you in your natural habitat. By being able to run, you no longer cause as much commotion for him. He can't be happier.

[1arkspur-aconitum]

DEAD AND GONE (s.r.)

SOULS OF POETS DEAD AND GONE, WHAT ELYSIUM HAVE YOU KNOWN?

[PART TWO OF THREE]

IN WHICH: Spencer apologises for his reaction to finding out her previous profession, then has a very curious request...

PAIRING: Season3!SpencerReid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: Comfort, fluff

CONTENT: swearing, classic BAU violence, established secret relationship, Spencer being awkward (as usual), very brief discussions of drug and alcohol addiction, discussions of death of a former lover, suggestive themes (16+)

WORD COUNT: 6k

PUBLISHED: 16/10/2024

I BARELY SPEAK TO him the next day.

In fact, I think I said a grand total of three words to him–nothing more than required, nothing at all like our usual long, babbling conversations. No, I avoided him ferociously, like he’s a rat and it’s 1348 in London.

Thankfully for me, Hotch put me with Emily out in the field rather than doing the geographical profile with Spencer. I wonder if Derek spoke to Hotch, but that might be doing Aaron Hotchner a disservice. He is a master profiler, afterall.

Spencer knocked on my door last night, not long after I had fled the bar, but I didn’t open it. I couldn’t. His words hounded me into what meagre sleep I could manage, pounding through my head as I took a shower, bruising into that soft spot in the centre of my chest I reserved only for him. All I could hear since he uttered it was him calling me disgusting. 

I know that I should try my best to get over it. Should focus on solving the case rather than on what my boyfriend thinks of my past. Emily spent a considerable chunk of time trying to reassure me that there is nothing for me to be ashamed of, but I don’t know anymore. The way he said it, spat it, still has its claws deep within my self doubt.

Coming from anyone else, I might’ve been able to brush it off, but coming from Spencer, the one person I thought would never judge me, would never hurt me? It’s proving harder to handle.

Spencer, to his credit, gives me my space. He doesn’t try to talk to me any more than necessary, doesn’t corner me somewhere to demand a conversation. Yet I do feel his eyes on me more than anyone else’s.

He watches me with that annoying carefully guarded expression, as if I might break at any moment. It’s patronising and, quite frankly, very annoying. I’m not made of glass. I have had worse things said to me, it’s not like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces because he said some harsh words that he didn’t mean.

Or, at least, I hope he didn’t mean. 

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it. That annoying voice in my head chases me throughout the day, clamouring for my attention along with the words Spencer uttered. It’s safe to say I wasn’t fully there. 

It was ultimately JJ who solved the case. She was the one who found out about the janitor that had been making his way up and down the strip of clubs, the one who encouraged Garcia to dig deeper into his history when the surface layer looked boring. 

In fact, JJ was also the one who apprehended the guy. Part of me feels guilty for not being the one to solve it, another part even guiltier for letting Spencer’s words have such an affect on my deduction skills, but the happy looks on Tia and Jas’ faces as they embraced my colleague in thanks was enough to lift my concerns.

We all agreed that we would go out for drinks tomorrow night, leaving us all one night to recover in our hotel rooms from such an intense order of business. I’m secretly very grateful. It gives me some time to wallow in my own self-pity, eating Oreos and watching whatever crap I can find on the tiny TV in my hotel room. Nothing a good cry can’t sort out. 

I’m propped up on the pillows not long after we left the police station, having politely refused the offer of a drink from Derek, and escaping. I don’t want a pity drink.

The TV flickers with something I am decidedly not paying attention to, crumbs littering the bed. Oreos are usually a cure-all for me, but today they’re not having the desired effect. Nothing seems to be making me feel any better.

This sucks. I knew this case would be rough, but I didn’t think it would be rough for these reasons. I expected the teasing, I expected being blasted with questions, but nothing could have prepared me for the way Spencer called me disgusting. Called me a hooker when I know that he knows damn well what the difference is. I didn’t realise how much I craved Spencer’s approval until he pulled it away from me like a rug from under my feet. 

I wonder if I should go and talk to him, but I don’t particularly want to. All I want is to stay here in my cocoon of sadness until it tires me out enough that I fall asleep.

I am just about to get up to make myself a hot chocolate, hoping that warm milk will encourage me to pass out so I can stop thinking about the way Spencer looked when he spat those words at me, when there is a knock on my door. 

I choose to ignore it, hoping that whoever it is will just go away. I sink  further into my bed covers and reach for another Oreo. The packet is empty. What a travesty. 

The knocking continues. It gets louder, more insistent, until I have no choice but to groan loudly and clamber out of bed. I stomp to the door. It’s safe to say I’m royally pissed off. All I want is to lounge around and be sad, but no matter what, whoever is on the other side of the door is almost guaranteed not to let me. 

I yank the door open, fully prepared to give whoever is on the other side a piece of my mind, but the words die on my tongue when I see who it is. Spencer stands in the hallway, looking adorable in his shirt and tie, hands tucked behind his back. He’s wearing his glasses, too. It’s as if he knows how much they affect me. 

‘June–’ he starts, but I cut him off.

‘What do you want, Spencer?’ My voice is cold, flat, mimicking the way he spoke to me not 24 hours earlier. I don’t really want to talk to him, not when it’s him who has forced me to do so. 

‘I…can I come in?’ He asks, glancing nervously down the corridor. 

‘No.’ The word is bland, disinterested. I cross my arms over my chest, staring up at him with as much hurt I can muster. I’m doing my best to ignore the way my heart is pounding against my ribs. I shouldn’t be affected by him, not when he’s said those things to me, but I am. I hate that I am. It’s Spencer, though, so of course I am affected by him. ‘I don’t really want to talk to you right now.’

‘Please..?’ Spencer sounds so pathetic, looks so earnest, that I find my facade crumbling just a smidge. ‘I just want five minutes. That’s all.’

I debate for a few seconds. ‘Fine. Whatever.’

I turn sharply on my heel and stalk back into my room, not caring to see if he follows. He does, and closes the door behind him softly. He’s usually always so tender. I flop onto the pillows and pick up the empty Oreo packet, glaring at it as if it’s the cause of all my problems. The silence is tense. Heavy. I glance at him expectantly. 

Spencer is standing awkwardly at the end of my bed, wringing his hands together as he looks anywhere but at me. I can tell that he’s nervous, but I don’t know why. I’m the one who should be nervous. He was the one who decided to be cruel, to say those words to me, and yet here he is, acting as if I’m the one who hurt him. To tell you the truth, it pisses me off a little. 

‘I’m sorry.’ He blurts the words out, barely more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. When I look up at him, surprised, I find him already watching me. Those beautiful brown eyes of his are completely unguarded this time, as vast and deep as an ocean. ‘I’m sorry for saying what I said last night. It was stupid, and mean, and I don’t know why I said them because I didn’t even mean them.’

‘You didn’t mean them?’ I repeat, measured voice laced with disbelief. It’s not as firm as I would like it to be, though. ‘You sounded pretty convincing when you said them, Spence.’

‘I know, I know I did, and I’m sorry.’ Spencer’s eyes swim with remorse, and he takes a tentative step towards me. I don’t move, body frozen as I listen to what he’s trying to tell me. ‘I was…I don’t know, I was angry. I lashed out and said things to make you angry, too. For that, I’m sorry.’

I pause, weighing up his words, and swing my legs off of the edge of the bed. I gaze up at him, head cocked. He’s confusing me more than usual. He seems genuine, standing there with his open expression, his nervous hands, but I still can’t shake the feeling that he was also genuine last night. 

‘Being angry doesn’t excuse the way you spoke to me, Spencer.’ I choose my words carefully, letting him see the furrow of my brow. ‘It doesn’t wash away the fact that you called me hooker in front of our friends, or the fact that you called me disgusting. It doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me.’

‘It’s not–I’m not trying to make excuses.’ Spencer flinches, before he carefully drops onto his knees on the carpet before me. He looks up at me and I can tell he wants to touch me. A hand reaches out, thinks better about it, and falls into his lap. ‘I’m just trying to explain. I know I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.’

‘Then why did you say it?’ I sigh, running a hand through my hair. My words are meek, exposed as a cliff to a crashing shore.

‘I told you. I was angry.’ Spencer sits back on his haunches, copying my motion. His hair is pushed away like Prince Charming yet again, his eyes so wide underneath the thick lenses of his glasses. It’s almost as if he’s intentionally making this difficult for me.

‘Why? Because I used to be a stripper? Because, like I said last night, it was my old life, and I don’t regret it–’

‘No–no, it’s…’ Spencer hesitates, pushing his glasses up with the back of his hand before looking down at his lap. His mouth twists in discomfort. ‘It wasn’t because of that, not really. It was–’

‘It was what?’ I encourage, leaning forward slightly. Most of the malice has dropped out of my voice, and I’m now trying to make him feel comfortable enough to continue talking.

‘It was because you didn’t tell me.’ He says finally, looking me dead in the eye. ‘And then, you sounded so…so happy when you were telling the others about it that it…it upset me.’

‘It upset you?’ I repeat, brow furrowing. I’m even more confused than before, but at least the anger has ebbed away. We’re having a discussion about it, and that’s probably for the best. The last thing I want to do is lose Spencer. ‘I don’t understand. Why would that upset you?’

He looks away from me, chewing the inside of his cheek, his hands working furiously together in front of him. I reach out and let my fingers brush against the back of his knuckles. When he looks back at me, I try to look as open and receptive as I can. This is a safe space for him. I won’t judge him. 

‘Because…well, because I thought you trusted me.’ His voice is so soft, so vulnerable, that it damn near breaks my heart. I offer him the palm of my hand in the space between us. He takes it. This physical contact seems to give him the courage he needs to keep talking. ‘I thought we were getting closer, and then you drop this bombshell on me in front of everyone, and it felt like…like you were keeping something hidden from me.’

‘I…I wasn’t trying to keep something hidden from you, Spence.’ I feel a pang of guilt. I can see how he might think that–after all, it’s not like I didn’t have a couple of opportunities to tell him before we stepped foot in the strip club. ‘It’s just…it’s complicated. That was a really weird time of my life, and a lot was going on.’

‘Like what?’ He asks, squeezing my hand gently. His thumb traces soothing circles on my palm. It sends a familiar warmth blooming in the pit of my stomach, a stark contrast to the coldness I felt last night. ‘I want to understand. Please.’

‘Alright.’ I sigh, and pat the bed next to me. ‘Get up here. I don’t want you to hurt your knees and we might be here for a while.’

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. He clambers up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged in front of me. Our knees bump together and he shyly pulls both of my hands into his lap. His cold fingers start to fiddle with my own as he waits expectantly for me to start talking.

My heart twinges in a mixture of adoration and fear. What I am about to tell him is a lot, and if he was mad about me ‘hiding’ the stripping thing, then this might be what breaks him.

But I shall tell him. And I’ll tell him all of it. 

‘Okay. Okay.’ I take a deep breath and shake my shoulders loose. Spencer’s eyes are locked onto me, patient, waiting. I’m so nervous that I’m sure he can feel my hands shaking between his. Spencer gives me an encouraging nod. ‘So…so I started dancing for a specific reason. In fact, I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done–would never have considered doing��because of, of this reason. Um. God.’

‘It’s alright. I promise I won’t judge you–not like yesterday.’ Spencer’s voice is softer than I deserve. 

‘I had a fiancé.’ The words tumble out of my mouth and fall into the space around us.

The room is deathly silent. I’m not sure either of us are breathing. I can’t bring myself to look at him, not wanting to see how he’s taking the news. What I do know is that his hands around mine stop fiddling. I rub my lips together and then the words don’t stop. 

‘I met Jay when I was doing my first undergrad, the Classical History one, and we…clicked. He and I moved in together whilst I was doing my Cornell degree, after five years. He proposed not long after that. We were to be married once I graduated.

‘Uh…I kinda assumed that would be it for me, y’know. One true love. But…well, not everything works out the way you think it will.’ I say, looking up at him to find him staring at me, those brown eyes stained with that confusion and hurt I saw yesterday. I have to keep going, have to get the words out. ‘I know. It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?’

‘What happened?’ Spencer’s voice is quiet, but surprisingly steady, his shoulders a firm line. He’s gripping my hands so tightly that it hurts, but I don’t mind. We both need the physical contact. 

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say. What I’m about to relive. 

‘He died.’ 

It’s raw. Harsh, the words grating against the back of my throat. 

‘I came home one day from a lecture and…and someone had broken in. Trashed the place. I found…I found Jay in the bedroom.’ I stare down at the bedspread, not seeing the bland hotel pattern but the lifeless form of my old lover. ‘Someone had…he was shot. There was nothing I could have done.’

‘Oh, June…’ Spencer’s voice is so thick with sympathy that I could chew it. He squeezes my hands and I finally look up at him. His eyes are lined with silver. He looks as heartbroken as I feel, as if he’s feeling the pain as acutely as I am. I have to look away. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It–it was a long time ago.’ I force a smile onto my face, but it’s brittle. Likely to snap at any moment. ‘After that, everything broke down. I left Cornell–I couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t live in that same apartment–and went to New York. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost and alone and I just…didn’t want to feel that pain anymore.’

‘So you started dancing.’ Spencer’s tone is laden with understanding, so impossibly gentle. He looks at me with his characteristically kind eyes and I can tell that he regrets everything he said. Part of me forgives him then and there. I nod, trying not to let the tears fall. ‘It was a way to escape.’

‘Exactly.’ I whisper, voice barely audible. I hate the way it quivers. ‘Amongst other stuff. I started taking drugs–I mean, I’d smoked weed and shit before, but after Jay it was like I didn’t care. I slept with random people. Started working as a stripper. I was spiralling. I lost myself in other people, other things, until I didn’t have to think about what happened. It worked. For a while.’

‘But not forever.’ Spencer finishes my sentence for me, intertwining our fingers. He’s looking at me differently now, as if he’s just realised something that makes him view me in a different light. Considering that he’s not letting go of my hands, I have to hope that it is a good thing. ‘And that’s why you slept with that guy, the regular.’

‘Yes.’ I confirm, hating the shame that creeps up my neck. I don’t want to hide anything from Spencer any more, though. There’s been enough hiding. ‘I slept with him because, for a brief moment, he made me feel something other than grief. It wasn’t real. It was simply filling a void. God, I was a mess back then.’

‘So…what made you stop?’ 

‘My mother.’ I half-laugh, blinking back tears and rolling my eyes at him. ‘Who else? She heard about what was happening from Tia–I still haven’t fully forgiven T for that, by the way–and essentially kidnapped me.’

Spencer chuckles, but it’s not fully humorous. ‘She…she kidnapped you?’

‘Yeah, she did. She lives in this commune in Illinois–fully self-sufficient and a massive bunch of hippies.’ I say the words with so much love that it brightens every syllable. ‘The commune saved my life. They helped me process Jay, get off the drugs I was on, taught me better coping skills. Encouraged me to complete my degree. I haven’t looked back since.’

‘And you don’t regret it?’ Spencer asks, thumbs now tracing gentle, casual circles on the softest part of my wrists. It warms my chest. ‘You don’t regret what you did, or what you had to do to get through it?’

‘No, Spence, I don’t.’ I smile at him, the action finally reaching my eyes. ‘I mean, I wish I’d done some things differently, but I don’t regret it. I loved dancing. I learnt a lot about myself and made some excellent friends. Yeah, the circumstances were shitty, but I wouldn’t trade in all the good times for a few bad ones.’

Spencer regards me for a long time, his eyes searching mine, scouring my face. I let him see everything. I don’t hold anything back, letting myself be an open book for him to read. I let him peer into the darkest parts of me without fear. Without qualms. This is me. I have nothing to hide from him anymore. He can take it or leave it. 

He lets out a long, shaking breath. 

‘Thank you…for telling me.’ He says, angling his head as he continues to inspect me. Spencer pauses, shifting so his elbows are on his knees. Our interlocked hands drop into my lap. I could lean in and kiss him if I wanted to. But I won’t. ‘I should have known…I just…I just got so jealous when I heard you talking about it that I couldn’t think anymore. I really should have known better. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s alright, Spence.’ I offer him a reassuring smile, feeling a crushing weight lift off of my chest. I lift our hands and press a careful kiss to the back of his. ‘I understand why you reacted the way you did. It was a lot to take in.’

‘It was.’ He admits, gaze softening with a small smile. ‘But I’m glad you told me. I want to learn everything about you. Even the most difficult parts. Actually, especially those parts.’

‘Oh, really?’ I say, my tone laden with teasing. ‘Especially the most difficult parts?’

‘Well, I’m not sure I like the way you’re saying that,’ Spencer says warily, but my broad smile is infectious and soon he’s grinning at me. ‘But yes.’

‘Don’t worry, I think I’ve just told you the worst of it.’ I laugh, pulling one of my hands free to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear. His skin is so hot it’s nearly feverish. He leans into my touch, pursing his lips slightly. ‘And don’t you dare get hung up on the word ‘think’, Spencer. I know you. If something else comes to me, I’ll tell you, alright?’

‘Alright.’ Spencer agrees, his voice soft. It’s clear we’re both done arguing. 

I smile gently and slowly start to clamber into his lap. I take my time, not wanting to rush him, and giving him plenty of opportunities to push me away. He doesn’t. In fact, his hands drop to my hips and tug me closer. Once I’m settled, I spot how his eyes flicker from mine to my mouth and away. He looks as if he wants to say something, so I wait, curling my fingers in the fine hairs at the back of his neck. 

‘I…I have a question.’ 

‘Alright. Ask away.’ I raise a curious eyebrow, my heart pounding so hard against my ribcage that I’m pretty sure he can feel it too. I have no idea what he’s going to ask, but I am ready for anything. I’ve already laid my soul bare to him, there isn’t anything more to hide. I wonder if this apprehension is what Prometheus feels when he hears the eagle’s wings. 

‘Do you…I mean, would you ever…’ He turns bright red, as if he’s embarrassed by the question he’s attempting to ask me. Spencer looks down at the space between us, his hair tickling my chin as he rests the crown of his head against my collar. I wait patiently and rub soothing circles into his back. ‘Would you dance for, for me?’

‘Dance for you?’ I repeat his question. I cup his cheeks and gently pull him away from where he’s hiding, forcing him to look at me and see that I am not laughing at him. That I don’t find the request funny, or humiliating. ‘You mean, like how I would in Elysium?’

‘Yes.’ Spencer nods, voice firmer now when he sees there is no sign of distaste or disapproval in my eyes. He looks so vulnerable, so open, that it melts my heart. 

Affection floods through me. I want to show him that I am not ashamed of my past, that I am willing to share something that brings me so much joy. Even though dancing is laden with the Jay thing, the drugs thing, I still love it. It’s freeing and a massive boost of confidence, and if Spencer wants to witness me doing that, then who am I to deny him.

‘Why, of course, Spencer.’ I smile, smoothing a thumb under his eye. His eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. Spencer leans forward and presses a tentative kiss to my lips. It’s chaste but still sends a shiver down my spine. ‘I would be honoured. You just have to let me make some calls first, alright?’

This will be fun…

Elysium isn’t too busy when we arrive, which I take as a good sign. There are a few regulars dotted about in individual booths, scantily clad women meandering through them, dishing out lap dances where requested.

Familiar pop songs blare through the speakers as two girls dance on the stage, a bed of green money laid out on the floor for them. It’s smoky, heady, and it might be my own anticipation, but it feels as if the whole space thrums with energy.

The music threatens to break through my skin, the bass reverberating through my skeleton. It feels good to be back.

I make my way towards the bar, pulling Spencer along behind me. We were chatting on the way here, but the closer we got to Elysium the more apprehensive he became. Spencer doesn’t talk much when he’s nervous.

I’ve been trying to loosen him up, but all I can really do is hope that it’s a good nervous, an excited nervous, rather than an ‘oh my god what am I doing’ nervous. I don’t think Spencer has ever had someone strip for him like this before.

No pressure or anything, June. It’s not like he’ll forget it. 

‘Alright,’ I say, encouraging him to sit on a stool near the bar. He has a slightly panicked look in his eye, unsure where he’s allowed to rest his eyes. Andrea leans casually against the surface, her large breasts almost spilling out of her tiny bra, a bemused look on her face. I smile warmly at her and she raises a hand in greeting. I turn back to Spencer who is staring at his lap. ‘Can you order us both a drink?’

‘You’re leaving?’ Spencer says, jerking his head up to look me in the eye. 

I laugh and step between his knees, carding my fingers through his long hair. ‘Yes, but not long. I’ve gotta go get changed, but I will come back for you soon. Is that alright?’

‘I…I can’t come with you?’ He says meekly, fingers digging into the backs of my thighs.

‘No, not backstage, sweetheart.’ I try to keep the humour out of my voice. It’s sweet that he doesn’t want me to leave him, but I have to. ‘I promise I won’t be long, alright.’

‘You promise?’ 

‘Yes, Spence, I promise.’ I kiss him softly on the lips, careful not to smudge any of my lipstick, still smiling into his mouth. He’s impossibly on edge. Hopefully a drink will ease the tension. ‘Just relax, order a drink, and I’ll be back before you know it.’

I squeeze his thigh gently before pushing away from him, nodding once at Andrea. She and I have known each other for a while–not as long as I’ve known Tia and Jas, but long enough that I know she’ll take care of Spencer without shoving his face in her tits. Or without letting other people shove his face in their tits. 

Carefully, I pick my way around the edge of the room, headed towards the backstage doors, where I can see Jas talking with a stripper I don’t recognise. Jas is dressed in silver today, a slinky number that sticks to her curves and accentuates the long legs I’ve always been so jealous of. As I walk, a duffle bag bumps against my hips. 

‘Junebug!’ Jas grins, spotting me. She grabs me by the shoulders, glancing over my shoulder to where I’m sure a still dazed and confused-looking Spencer is sitting. Her face tightens. ‘Tia said you’d called–I am so sorry, by the way, if I had known, I wouldn’t’ve–’

‘It’s alright, Jas.’ I laugh, brushing her hair from her shoulder. She seems genuinely apologetic. ‘The team doesn't know, otherwise I would’ve stopped you before you made him blush as much as you did.’

She throws her head back and laughs, taking my arm and leading me through another secret door. ‘I suppose it’s your turn to make him blush now, Junie.’

These corridors are familiar, painfully so–I got so drunk I nearly threw up in that storage closet over there, I smoked a bowl with Tia in that dressing room, did a line of cocaine off Jas’ breasts in that one. They hold the memories of the me I never thought I would become, the me I never thought I would escape. With every step I take, I wonder what it would take to tip me back into that person. 

‘Alright, here, you can use my dressing room.’ Jas stops at her door and pushes it open. ‘Tia’s with a client right now, but she should be done in about fiveish mins, so you can find her afterwards. She’s got the key.’

‘Perfect, thanks for doing this, by the way. I know it’s kinda last minute.’ I smile, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. ‘And the team are still down for drinks tomorrow, by the way, if you guys are. If you need me to sweet talk Harold, I can try.’

‘It’s all worked out already, I think Amy and Beth are coming as well, so should be fun!’ Jasmine reciprocates, pressing a kiss to my cheek before pushing me into her room. ‘Now, hurry up, you’ve got a doctor to knock the socks off of–what are you gonna wear?’

I tug her in after me with an eye roll. Of course she wants to know all the little details.

Jas’s changing room is sparsely furnished aside from a plush armchair angled in the corner–it’s the same one we once both managed to fit on, sharing a spliff and laughing as Tia reenacted a particularly interesting lap dance she performed. A table is pressed up against the wall, the edges of it as chipped as the mirror propped up on top. A few polaroid pictures have been stuck to the frame, and I can see my own face beaming out at me. 

‘Give me your phone.’ Jas says, and I oblige her, busy rummaging around in the duffle bag. Soon after, the sound of my playlist starts to hum through the room. It’s soft, trance-like, and alluring. The music I always prefer to dance to. ‘Alright, show me what you’re gonna wear.’

When I turn around to show her the lingerie set in my hands, she’s sprawled out on that armchair, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her eyes widen and she just nods at me with delight. 

‘I’m kinda nervous.’ I admit, not caring if Jas sees me naked. I strip off my current clothes and start to put on the lingerie. It’s new, so Spencer hasn’t seen it before–in fact, I bought it specifically for him, in the hopes that we might be able to make use of it on this case. It’s dark green, skimpy, and covered in embroidered lace and beads. It leaves very little to the imagination.

‘Really?’ Jas asks, popping a piece of bubblegum into her mouth. ‘Why?’

‘I mean, I haven’t danced for someone else in a very long time.’ I murmur, straightening the tiny bra so that it properly accents my boobs. It’s not as if I don’t remember how to do it, I’ve been taking pole classes intermittently in Virginia, when our schedule allows. ‘And I’ve never danced for someone I actually care about.’

‘Aw, you’re adorable.’ Jas gushes, blowing a bubble. ‘You’ll be fine–you look gorgeous, by the way. Do you need to borrow some heels?’

‘Please.’ I laugh sheepishly. ‘They’re not exactly something I pack for a case.’

Jas unfurls herself from the chair and heads to the only other piece of furniture in the tiny room. It’s the infamous wardrobe–Jas keeps every outfit she’s ever worn on site, and works kind of like the inhouse dry cleaners. Everything is available as long as you can fit into it, and as long as you give it back. It saved my life many times. 

‘Oo, black, please.’ I call over to her as I slip into a small, black slip dress that I’ll wear until we get to the private room. It makes the lingerie more special, I think, if he doesn’t get to see it right away. 

‘Here you go.’ She grins, passing me a pair of classic black stiletto stripper heels. They shine in the soft light, and I can see that the material is littered with sparkles. Simple enough for what I know Jas has in that wardrobe, and they make my legs look a mile long when I try them on. ‘Perfect. You look gorgeous. Come on, now, get out there and show the doctor what you can do!’

‘Alright, alright!’ I laugh, grabbing my phone quickly before she wrestles me out of the door. I’m leaving the bag here. I give her a quick, grateful hug as she hurries me out of the door and back into the main part of Elysium. 

As I step out of the backstage area, I start to hum along to the music, letting the sound of it start to move my body in a way I haven’t done in a while. Teasing, sultry, a slight warm up for what is about to happen. Jas smacks my arse quickly and wiggles her fingers in a goodbye. I watch as she disappears amongst the crowd, searching for someone to wring dry. The bass makes the floor shake, as familiar as an earthquake. 

I spot Spencer at the bar, looking as out of place as he ever has. He sits exactly where I left him, but this time he’s nursing a large drink, my own still sitting on the bar. One leg is crossed over the other, and he keeps his eyes resolutely on the glass in his hand. He looks so adorable in his glasses, in his shirt and tie, so awkward, that my heart swells a little. This is the last place Dr. Reid would ever be found in, and yet here he is. 

He’ll get over it. I reassure myself, smoothing slightly clammy hands down my dress. God, I’m actually really worried about this. My heart pounds an unsteady rhythm against my ribcage, sweat sticking my thighs together. He’s going to remember every single second, so it has to be good. I’m probably just freaking myself out more with that thought.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and start to walk towards him. I do it lazily, seductively, allowing myself to fall into the stripper mindset. The small slip dress barely brushes the swell of my thighs, showing off a hint of the garter I’m wearing. Spencer spots me almost immediately and his whole body tenses. 

He likes the dress, that much is obvious. His mouth parts as his hungry eyes scour every inch. The low neckline, the short hem, and the slight sheerness of the fabric means that when the lights wash over me, he can see a sneak peak of what’s to come. Spencer swallows hard, unable to stop staring as I approach, absentmindedly putting his glass down on the bar.

‘Hey, handsome.’ I smile, stepping between his legs and running my hands over his smooth hair. He still has his glasses on, which makes him look even more awkward. His hands wrap around the back of my thighs, callused hands against bare skin. 

‘Hey.’ He murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. He blinks a couple of times in rapid succession, like he does when he’s thinking really hard. A permanent blush brightens his cheekbones. ‘You look…beautiful.’

‘Thank you,’ I smile at him, biting my lip. His eyes are drawn to movement, lips slightly parted. There’s still a tension in his shoulders that I want him to lose. I want him to enjoy this, after all. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Terrified.’ 

‘Aw, sweetheart, that’s not what I want to hear.’ I say gently, leaning down and pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks. His skin is red hot. ‘Can I ask why? Is it me?’

‘What? No, it’s not you.’ Spencer says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He pulls one of my hands out of his hair to press a kiss to the palm of it, the most tender thing he has done for me in a while. A familiar warmth pools in the pit of my stomach. ‘You’re the only thing keeping me here. I’m just…I’ve never done this before.’

‘I know.’ I say softly, a slight smile turning the corners of my lips. ‘Funnily enough, Spence, it doesn’t surprise me that you’ve never done this before. I would be more concerned if you had.’

‘No, I mean–I don’t know. I just feel so out of place.’ He flushes and leans in closer, as if he’s worried that he’ll be overheard. His next words are a hiss. ‘When I…when I asked if you would dance for me, I meant back in the hotel.’

‘We can go back if you want, Spencer,’ I sigh, tilting his face up to mine and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Spencer is soft, pliant, and grips the back of my thighs tighter. ‘But, if you want me to dance for you, then I want to do it right. And the only way I can do that is here. Look, why don’t we just go to the private room, you might feel more comfortable there.’

He thinks it over for a couple of seconds, fingers secretly brushing up the backs of my thighs. I resist the urge to shiver at the action, fearing that any movement might scare him off. I wait patiently. We have time. Eventually, Spencer grips my hips with his big hands and nods. He’ll do it. 

Victorious, I pick up our drinks and encourage Spencer to stand. He doesn’t let go of my waist as I lead him through the crowd, headed towards where I can see Tia. I kind of like him like this. Dependent. Clinging to me as if he’s worried I’ll slip out of his grasp and vanish. 

Tia grins at us as we approach. She’s dressed in a shimmering gold number that matches Jas’, sticking to all the right places. Her long dreads are piled atop her head in a messy bun, a few stray strands framing her gorgeous face. She leans casually against the wall next to the door that has the PRIVATE neon sign above it, a mischievous glint in her eye.

‘Well, well, Junebug, look at you.’ She gives me an appreciative look, and I bask a little in it, showing off the heels. Tia then turns her attention onto Spencer, a bemused look on her face. ‘I should have known, honestly. From the moment I saw you, I was like she’s gonna be all over you. June here’s always had a type.’

I laugh, watching Spencer look sheepishly at Tia. His cheeks are a deep crimson, and he keeps glancing down at his feet, as if he’ll be told off for looking too long. ‘You’re not wrong, T. You’re not wrong. To his credit, this one took a little bit of convincing.’

‘Somehow, I don’t believe that. June always went for the pretty boys.’ Tia steps up to Spencer, smooths a hand across one of his shoulders. Spencer tenses, the hand on my hip tightening. He looks up, eyes darting between us, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension and what I hope is pride. I laugh again through a sip of my drink. Spencer swallows. ‘And let me tell you, they always went for her.’

‘Alright, alright, don’t tease him.’ I pout, rolling my eyes at her behind Spencer’s back. I’ve only just got him to relax, I don’t want her to rile him up again. She’s always like that, though. She gives me an apologetic look and quickly takes her hand off of my boyfriend. My heart calms briefly. ‘Can we have room three? That’s still the one with the big sofa, right?’

‘Yeah, of course.’ Tia nods, using a key around her neck to unlock the PRIVATE door. It opens onto a corridor lined with black doors, each with a small, circular window covered by a blind. Small lights at the top shine red or green to show availability. Most show red. She leads the way, and I take Spencer’s hand in mine, pulling him along behind me. ‘That’s always been your favourite, hasn’t it?’

‘I think I just like the sofa, honestly.’ I grin, glancing over my shoulder at Spencer. I am very pleased to see that his eyes are on my arse as I walk ahead of him. When he realises I’m watching him, his cheeks get even redder if that’s possible. I squeeze his hand to reassure him. He’s allowed to look at my arse, and I know that he knows that, I think the environment makes him think that he can’t. ‘Plus, I always used room three.’

‘I know, I never use it anymore because it makes me think of you.’ Tia says, stopping in front of the aforementioned room. She unlocks it with a flourish and pushes the door wide to let us in. I lead Spencer inside, Tia giving him a once-over as he shuffles past her. She winks at me before addressing him. ‘Good luck, Spencer. You’re gonna need it.’

‘Oh, I already know that…’ Spencer smiles shyly at her. 

Tia sketches a mock bow to us before tossing me the key and closing the door. 

Game time.

THANK YOU FOR READING! PART THREE CAN BE FOUND HERE.

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 26

"LOVE AND HOPE"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

To read Chapter 24 & 25 - "SEPARATION & THE NIGHTMARE"

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/764929745333927936/vagabonds-chapter-24-25?source=share

Word Count: 2.3K

Background: The return of a friend. Echo comforts Sil. And, the Batchers are given Thoomie's back story from Uncle Taavi. It's a very unorthodox origin story...and one that I am familiar with when another woman I worked with left her baby behind in a locker room, and the police came to my home for questioning. TO BE CLEAR: This story is NOT an attempt to punch down at any one person in particular. This part of the story, much like a lot of other parts sprinkled into this series is a commentary on SOCIETY overall.

The Batch and Taavi ask an open ended question. One that could be seen as scornful, but instead are blunt questions. They don't judge, only contemplate their own luck. And, the scale of value society sets for life in the galaxy.

For anyone new to this series: "LOVE" is the nonbinary/genderfluid neurodivergent/nonverbal Force sensitive kid of the main OC of this series named Mad. Mad is an older single mother, close to almost 50 years of age (not many older female protagonists in stories, so I decided to make one.)

Warning: swearing, angst and brief mention of a LIVE baby in a dumpster (no worries reader, baby is rescued-NO blood or gore, but brief mention of a "blue baby").

(Credit: Cool dividers by @4ngelic-Wh1spers, @plum98 @strangergraphics-archive Pinterest: Blackstar)

Tech tinkered under the Beldame.  It helped keep his mind off of Hunter’s depression and sadness.  This was the first time Tech and the rest of The Batch had seen Hunter openly cry since...well, probably since that Reg broke Hunter’s nose when they were children. 

Thoomie administered a light sedative to Hunter so he could rest and heal for an hour or two.  Taavi announced he would whip up a meal for them all in the Bar’ge ‘N Go’s cafeteria after he was finished with his duties. 

Now that there was access to more tools, equipment, and parts, Tech would have the ‘Dame up to speed in no time.  And, with Echo researching intel, The Batch could help Mad and Sil locate and retrieve LOVE and Tiggy. 

Tinkering away deep in thought, Tech reflected on how so much had transpired since leaving Kamino, then Ord Mantell. 

It had been a DIZZYING turn of events... 

“Well...look WHO popped up” 

Tech was pulled from his rumination, glanced down recognizing a familiar pair of metal heeled boots... 

His eyes widened. 

Immediately he wheeled out from under the ship and sprang up.  Tech slicked back his hair and dusted of his clothing. 

Pushing up his goggles, Phee Genoa came into focus. 

“Hello Brown Eyes.” She slyly smiled. 

Tech stood there speechless... Say SOMETHING!  But...WHAT??? 

Your hair has a buoyant quality that attracts my attention... 

NO... 

The scent wafting up from your skin excites my senses... 

NO NO.... 

The timber of your voice causes prolierection of the hairs on my arms... 

NO! 

The thought of you quickens my heartbeat, resulting in tachycardia... 

NO!!! 

Phee watched amused at Tech’s internal struggle. 

His face began to flush slightly. 

Phee mused ADORABLE when he’s flabbergasted. 

“Uh...hello.” Tech exhaled, trying to keep his cool. 

“Glad you made it off Ord Mantell.  Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I am currently repairing this ship...for a close friend.” 

“Oh?  Looks like Madienne Dax’s ship.” 

“Why...yes...it is...” 

“Close friend, you say?” Phee smirked. 

“Why yes.  She’s been very hospitable with sharing it as a living space.  And preparing meals for consumption...” Tech trailed off. 

Maker, I am rambling He cringed. 

“Sounds cozy.” Phee teased. 

Tech silently analyzed Phee’s words.  Cozy?  Peculiar thing to remark.  I am NOT cozy with Mad... 

Phee stood patiently and watched his brain work it out 

Tech’s eyes widened as he made a realization. 

...OH! 

“I should be clear.” Tech raised an index finger to accentuate his point. “HUNTER is Mad’s boyfriend.” 

Phee giggled.  “Just the person to keep Bandana on his toes!” 

“That she certainly does.” Tech smirked. 

Phee leaned in and her voice softened. “Hey...Brown Eyes?”  

“Yes?” Tech answered 

“I missed you.” She smiled. 

“I missed you as well.” Tech beamed. 

Sil sat in the darkened clinic room alone.  The only light filtered out from the bacta tank where Mad floated silently, sleeping with help of a sedative. 

He refused to leave when Thoomie offered to show him to a room on the barge.  Taavi reassured her Sil would be alright.  Just needed time to spend with his auntie and to sift through his feelings alone.  Uncle Taavi moved a hover stretcher next to the tank for his nephew. 

Sil, now lying upon the stretcher, whispered to his auntie. 

“I feel SO lucky you found me Coruscant.  And thank you for taking me with you and LOVE....glad to have you both as family.  We’ll find them, Mad.  Tiggy too.  These guys are gonna help us.  I can feel it.  Please don’t be so sad.  It will work out...” 

He took a deep breath and exhaled. 

“Then we get away from all this trouble that’s been following everyone.  We find a place to hide out.  LOVE will help you have them babies.  And...maybe...you marry Hunter, huh?  We send out a coded signal.  And, when the rest of our family shows up we have a great big Reunion with a Nomaadi wedding...yeah?  We will all be so happy...” 

Sil wiped a stray tear from his eye and sniffled. 

“We get that ole’ Nomaaddi tattooist to mark Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Hunter...they can officially be part of the Star People Family.  Auntie I want to LIVE...instead of just trying to SURVIVE.” 

Sil gathered his hearts wish hoping it would come true with The Force. 

“Hey...you awake?” 

Sil turned over to see Echo faintly standing in the darkness by the clinic doorway. 

“Yeah...just talking to her.  She can hear me...us, you know.” Sil spoke wistfully. 

“She’s probably very grateful to hear your voice.  Can get pretty lonely in there.” Echo strode over to Sil.  “Hey...Taavi is cooking up his all day, all you can eat breakfast.  Don’t know much about it but sounds promising.  Wanna come eat with us?” 

Sil exhaled wearily “Not very hungry...sorry.  Just want to be alone...with my auntie.” 

Echo’s heart went out to Sil  “No worries.  I’ll bring you something later...ok?” 

Sil nodded. 

Echo headed for the door, then turned with conviction. 

“We’ll find LOVE and Tiggy.  Somehow.  Some way.  Promise.” 

Wrecker emerged from the refresher clean and wearing a fresh change of clothes. 

“Ahhh...good to be in a decent sized shower for once.”  He flopped down on the king-sized comfy bed and eyed Omega sitting on the other one across from him.  “You’re turn.” 

She sighed and snuggled deeper into the pillows. 

“Go get cleaned up, ya smell like musty Bantha Butt!” 

“No I don’t.” 

“Yeah...you do.  If I can smell it, you definitely stink.” Wrecker rolled over and propped himself up with a pillow.  “Besides, you don’t want to gross out Hunter when he’s tryin’ to eat, do ya?” 

Omega perked up slightly “He’ll be eating with us?” 

“Yep.  We’re gonna wheel that hover stretcher right up to the table.  No reason for him to be eatin’ alone.” 

“Is Mad going to be alright?  How are we going to find LOVE and Tiggy.” Omega looked so sad.  It broke Wrecker’s heart. 

“Yes to the first question.  Uncle Taavi told me so.  I believe ‘em.”  Wrecker winked.  The second question...”  Wrecker struggled to answer in a way that would give Omega some hope.  “I...don’t know.  But Echo is trying to figure it out.  If anyone can find ‘em, Echo can...” 

“I miss them...and I’m scared they aren’t safe.” Omega whispered. 

“Me too, Omega.”  Wrecker agreed.  “But we can’t do anything about it right now...on an empty stomach.”  He tried to put on a silly face to hide is concern. 

Omega looked skeptical. 

“C’mon...get in the refresher.”  Wrecker negotiated.  “Sooner you clean up, sooner we go eat with Echo and find out if he has any leads.” 

Omega dragged herself off the bed and slowly made her way to the refresher.

“What is Thoomie’s  story” Tech inquired 

The Batchers and Uncle Taavi sat comfortably at a large booth.  Echo had wheeled Hunter into the cafeteria on a hoverchair.  He was healing quickly with a bacta wrap over the sutured area, but still advised to stay off his feet for another standard day.  Echo parked the chair at the table so Hunter could eat with the group. 

A HUGE spread of breakfast food, served all hours during one rotation, sat in front of them.  Omega, Hunter, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker heartily filled their bellies while conversing with Mad’s Nomaadi Uncle. 

At the opposite end of the cafeteria in the game room section a menagerie of droids loudly and happily cavorted with several Tooka kitties. 

“Little Thoo?”  Uncle Taavi flamboyantly waved his hand smiling.  “Well... found her!” 

“A street urchin on some Outer Rim planet, huh?”  Hunter probed, sipping his Meilroon juice. 

Taavi calmly shook his head “Nah, on the bottoms of Coruscant...in a DUMPSTER.” 

Hunter dramatically spit his drink out onto the table.  “Eh...apologies.” He sputtered. 

Omega, ever ready to help her brother, stepped in “It’s ok, Hunter.  I’ve got it.” 

Taavi didn’t miss a beat and tossed a handful of napkins onto the mess and kept speaking.  He gesticulated animatedly no matter whatever the topic of conversation. 

“Yeah...so I got tip about a buncha slightly used but primo ship parts being tossed out for garbage pickup.  Just picked up and hoofed it down there right away.  I ain’t one to let somethin’ valuable go to waste!” 

Echo and Tech were transfixed, caf cups raised, watching this man so casually speak about something so...personal.  Hunter refilled his glass with juice.  Wrecker listened intently while shoveling food in his mouth like it might get away.  Omega absent mindedly wiped the table slowly with the napkins while watching Taavi tell his story. 

“Landed, hiked into the bottoms, found the right location, then hopped right into that dumpster and went to diggin’ through all the stuff people don’t want no more of.  Shit...” Taavi threw his head back and laughed “ALL the stuff the rich up at the top of Coruscant just casually throw out ‘cause they got that money to burn.”   

Taavi other hand shot out and rubbed his fingers together.  “LOTS of ‘garbage’ they would call it...the good stuff.  The people at The Bottoms don’t have nothin’ much ta part with.  They keep as much as they got...which is pretty little.” 

Omega kept slowly, absentmindedly wiping the table.  Hunter sipped his juice.  Wrecker shoveling in food.  Tech and Echo sitting motionless...still haven’t sipped their caf YET! 

Taavi still gesticulating, as if conjuring the story with his hands.  “THEN I hear a noise.  Well...my nosy self thinks it some Tooka diggin’ in that dumpster for some food.  ‘Dem poor little kitteh’s start explorin’ around in there, and then the garbage just caves in on ‘em...and they can’t get out.”  Taavi was intense during this part.  REALLY committed to giving every Batcher at that table a glimpse of how terrified Taavi felt about it. 

“So’s, I dig down and find this backpack...in more than middlin’ condition I might add.  Open it up...like YOU do...” 

The amazement of what must have been on Taavi’s face at the time of the story shone brightly. 

“...and... there SHE was!  This sweet little baby, struggling to breathe, BARELY alive...NO LARGER THAN MY HANDS...” 

Taavi holds out both of his calloused hands.  A poor workman’s hands with starship grease in the worn creases and under his fingernails. 

His face then turned pensive.  “And I think to myself...WHO DOES THAT???” 

The Batchers sat transfixed...stunned. 

“So’s, I took that backpack with that perfect little girlie home with me.  Told myself ‘Taavi, you done found a little gift right in that there dumpster.” 

Omega wiping, wiping.  Hunter sipping.  Wrecker eating.  Echo and Tech motionless. 

Taavi leaned across the table at them, raising his voice “AND SHE WAS BLUE!  BLUE I TELL YA!!!”  Strugglin’ for breath but holdin’ on like a real trooper.  That ship parts tip...that right there was a SIGN!”  Taavi’s index finger stabbed down RIGHT on top of the moist napkins Omega was using to wipe the table.  

Omega stops wiping.  Then Taavi stabs his finger down repeatedly with every other word to DRIVE HOME HIS POINT. 

“The FORCE wanted me to find that little dumplin’ and take care of her!"

Taavi finally takes his hand away from the table, gesturing randomly towards the doorway, where in the heart of the ship Thoomie was treating another client who had arrived needing rudimentary medical attention. 

“You all have seen her now. Happy and healthy as a lee Romay clam!” Taavi smiles tenderly, a glimmer of tears glaze his eyes.  Eyes of love and gratitude for his girl. 

Hunter sees Taavi’s eyes and suddenly struggles to hold back his own glimmer of tears.  Omega gave up on the napkins and picks up her Star Cake.  Echo sits still like a Dugardugar in the Marauder’s headlights.  Wrecker chews... 

Tech... lump in his very composed, logical throat slides his plate of Bantha Bacon and Star Cakes slowly over to Wrecker...who silently takes the plate.  “Apologies...I am NO longer famished...” 

Taavi realizes the impact his story has on the group.  He empathizes with them.  Shared quite a bit just the first day of meeting.  But he felt a closeness with them.  And... Mad doesn’t just make friends with ANYONE...well a particular one was a mistake, but that’s just ONE.  She’s discerning...or she wouldn’t be alive.  The Force whispered to him that The Batchers are discerningly loyal and trustworthy.  Two things worth mineral backing credits to the Nomaadi. 

“Oh, PAL, it’s all A-okay!  My Little Thoo is doin’ GREAT!!!  Don’t let ole’ Uncle Taavi’s story get to ya.”  Taav’s head snaps down to the empty caf carafe on the table.  “Oh GEEZ, what kinda host am I?  Let me get ya a refill!” 

He pops up from the booth and scurries over to the Bar’ge ‘N Go counter for a fresh pot.  The Tooka kittens mob him and he cheerfully ladles eggs and meat from a pan into several bowls.  They mill around happily as he sets the bowls onto the floor. Then belly laughs in pure joy while they fall over one another to get to the food. 

The Batchers sit with everything Taavi said for a while.   

Hunter finally breaks the silence “SOMEONE PUT THEIR CHILD IN A DUMPSTER???” His face is grief stricken. 

Echo mused quietly.  “Makes our childhood look almost like an amusement park ride.” 

Wrecker had NOTHING to say.  He silently enjoyed the contents of Tech’s plate...spacing out...clinging onto the flavors and textures in his mouth, along with the present-day image of a very small, yet healthy and happy teen.  The food helped to push the image of a tiny baby barely clinging to life...barely old enough to cling to any HOPE of salvation from their situation out of his mind... 

Omega takes a bite of her Star Cake, sadly remembering all the very young clones the Kaminoan’s euthanized when they didn’t meet up with their exacting expectations...names and numbers the 99’s had never knew briefly existed... 

Tech could only make a VERY true, yet sad statement.  “WE were CONSIDERED valuable...” He stared into the bottom of his caf cup.  “Apparently...there are many MORE in the galaxy who fail to reach even close to that arbitrary standard...” 

TO READ CHAPTER 27:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/773452066226159616/vagabonds-chapter-27?source=share

Please let me know if you wanted to be added to my taglist or removed! Thanks so much for your support!!!

[ohburgee]

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

oc!serialkiller x fem!reader

tw: murder, mention abuse, gore, obsession an: A spooky Christmas story here, yeah I finally uploaded a story and I just got my 1st sem done and I'll survive it :D I want to let you all know that part 2 of Father's Debt is still in writing and this is my early Christmas gift for my long gone. And this might my most long story I uploaded, Rex almost get the yandere theme if he is together with the reader soo.

Driving in the middle of winter while your hand on the wheel panicking a bit since after an argument with your obsessive, abusive boyfriend you told him that you're breaking up because of his behavior but he get wild and say shit sweet things that he can't live without you.

And you had enough and left, you took your car and drove away, you went to your cousin's house and told her everything happened and she told you to report it to the police but you refused you didn't want her to get involved in this.

You decide to go away from here and go visit your uncle's place it's safer to stay with him you text him and he replies yes, so you pack everything your cousin prepared for you and start your travel in the middle of winter it is Christmas.

Now you are halfway off the road still in the middle of the forest and you feel cold even though you didn't open the window as you hear your phone and see your abusive boyfriend texting you, you take the phone block his contact, and throw your phone on the side seat.

You are very sick of his behavior you can't take it anymore, you had a chance last time but his stupid best friend told you that it was just a misunderstanding and you believe it too that is also stupid of you.

Just want to have freedom right now and need some space to think and relax your mind your overthinking is cut off and you hear your phone and turn your eye to see your uncle's number calling, you answer.

"Are you okay i heard the issue from my daughter"

You sigh and turn your eyes to the road "I'm fine uncle I need some place to relax and forget it for a while" you said as you grip the wheels in your hands.

You heard your uncle sigh and cough "Okay then I hope you travel safe, then you need to rest it's the middle of the night there's a motel stop by there and take some rest"

"Okay uncle I'll update you when I arrive at the motel"

"Okay then be careful and be safe and, don't trust anyone," he said, and before you could ask about the last word the signal went off, and the call cut.

"Damn it" you annoyed and put your phone back to the side seat and continue driving... After of minute of driving you reached the motel and slowly parked your car in the parking lot in front of the motel, you got out of your car with your things with you.

You look at the motel it looks like just a normal 2nd-floor motel and some woods around the area you look around for people and see three cars parked so it's a relief that people are checking in.

You walked straight to the register room and saw an old guy sitting with a newspaper in his hand as you approached him he quickly turned around and stopped reading and looked at you.

"Hello do you want to check in?" he asked with a smile and you smiled back and looked around the room feeling a bit safe. "Yes I would like to get a room for a single," you told him and he looked a bit down.

"There's no room for a single it was all occupied by the travelers earlier and the two single rooms are in renovation but we have one room for a double if you like," the old guy said and you rethink, your uncle said you need to rest and it was a long day to go before reaching his place.

"I'll take the double," you said and he nodded and checked you in then gave the key to you, then he told you that if you needed anything just ask him and you smiled and nodded, you got out of the register room and walked towards the motel rooms.

You check your key and it is room 7 you look over the building and look for your room, and see that the first/ground floor is 1-5 rooms and might yours on the second floor so you proceed to walk upstairs and pass room 6 and it's your room now, room 7.

You unlock it and open the door and see a simple and quiet bit of unique there are two beds and a TV in front of it and you look beside the door at a window and a small table with two armchairs the color of the room is all green and a bit of brown, nature looking.

Putting your stuff in the bed take your phone and update your uncle looking around more and see a clean bathroom and a small kitchen you wash your face in the bathroom sink after that you look at yourself in the small mirror, you look stressed and pale but inside you are angry and irritated.

You wipe your face with a small cloth and get out of the bathroom you feel tired and decide to rest now so you hop on your bed curl yourself in the smooth bedsheet of the bed and slowly close your eyes.

...

You heard a loud knocking, and you sat up from your bed and turned your attention to the door. The knocking kept going, and you got up and walked towards the door, opened it, and the old guy showed up.

"Sorry to disturb your sleep, Miss, but I want to ask you a favor, Would you like to share your room with this gentleman here?" he said, and you slowly peeked out of your room and saw a tall guy.

He looks like a grown-aged man with dark, deep hair, blue gradient eyes, and a well-cut beard on his chin. As you keep staring at him, you hear a cough and turn your look to the old guy.

"So what miss?" he asks and you rethink if you want to share a man in your room, you know he looks harmless but you remember your uncle's words.

"Is there no other room for him?" you ask why is the reason he is letting the man share with you, "He asked for a single but as I said earlier no single room, and the other doubles are occupied but as you alone and had double checked in" he said and you look back to the tall guy.

You nodded and the old guy gave you a smile well it's his motel so he makes sure his customers are treated well and you also treat him like it too the reason made it a fact.

You let the tall guy get inside and he looks around the old guy says thank you before he walks away and you close the door behind you and look at the tall guy, he is very tall though compared to your height.

"Well you can put your things there and be free to roam around," you said, and thank god there were two beds you walked towards your bed and sat there looking at him like a guard dog keeping an eye.

"Don't worry I won't do the stupid things" he said in his husky tone he turned at you and you looked at him a bit nervous you could feel him having that dark aura on him and you shrugged yourself and sighed.

"What's your name?" you ask him and he puts his bag on the other side bed and sits still his eyes on you, "Rex" you nod your head and tell your name and he nods too.

After a long minute watching him as he washed his face and fixed his stuff, you are really aware and you don't trust him at all you don't know why but you feel something not good. You decide to watch TV to make you feel alive and not sleepy maybe.

As you keep changing channels your attention catches on the news.

"There's a lost killer in the town as you may know him as Silent Killer, a report that he murdered two men in the house and the neighbors heard a loud scream and found them dead and the killer left them brutally killed"

As the reporter said the last sentence and showed a picture of two bodies that can't see where the proper parts of the one were shattered and the other lost some parts also shattered, you turn off the TV and look at the window you don't want to hear any gore thing it made your heart weaken.

"Don't like does topics?" you turn your head to Rex as he cleans his butterfly knife well you know it since your brother has one of it, as you look at him playing with his butterfly knife you slowly look at his face.

"Just don't like it," you said and he nodded "You know if you can murder someone who did terrible things you will do it because of your anger but in this reality, you can't," he said while playing his butterfly knife swinging it back and forth.

"You are innocent you are a good person so you let that anger rot inside you," he said looking at your innocent eyes, "But if I were you I already got their life out" he added and swung his butterfly knife off and put the knife in the lamp table beside his bed.

You feel nervous and a bit shocked at what he just said is this man crazy or just quoting what he saw on TV. After the talking, you have been watching him as he rests himself but he is not in a resting position as he positioned himself sat up and his eyes closed.

As you feel your eyelids slowly closing you have to keep up you don't fully trust this man inside the room with you now, maybe he will do something terrible to you, or... He is the silent killer that was talked about in the news, you overthink now but the thinking gets cut off when you hear a notif from your phone you look at your phone behind you on the bed and see your cousin's name, and that also catches Rex's eyes on the messages.

-Your bastard boyfriend went here and he tried to force us to tell him where you are but he threatened my son so I told him where you going, I'm sorry I tried to hide it.

Your fucking boyfriend is having too much you can't take his behavior and now he even tries to hurt your family, your cousin was right you should inform the police earlier and now you feel paranoid and scared.

You begin overthinking again and you keep trying to calm yourself but the stuff that just happened keeps haunting you... Until you fell asleep and fell yourself from the bed and that caught someone's attention besides you...

Rex saw you fall asleep and he didn't mind and went back to rest but his thoughts keep him tell to lose witnesses you heard what he said and now you're thinking that he might be the silent killer so he got up from his bed and took the butterfly knife from the lamp table as he slowly approaches your peaceful self sleeping, he is going to rip that innocent eyes he saw earlier because you saw the dark in himself.

As he prepared to attack there was a knock on the door he backed away put the butterfly knife in his pocket and turned his attention to the door he relaxed himself walked towards the door and opened it and his eyes widened, police in front of him.

While you still sleeping the voices made you awake and you slowly opened your eyes and looked towards where the voices were coming from you saw Rex and a person outside and you slowly got up and went towards Rex and you saw the police talking to him.

"What's going on here?" you ask Rex and he turns to face you you look at him with still sleepy eyes and you turn your head to face the police, "Is there a problem here?" you ask the police "Were just checking the surrounding if you ever heard the murdered news we sorry to disturb your night but we need to check the people here in the motel" the police replied and you even more paranoid.

"There's no anyone here it's just us and we just got here to check in," you said looking at the police as they nodded, but the talk didn't end there as they kept asking about your reason and where bouts then now turn their attention to Rex they ask him several questions then you caught one of the officers looking suspicious inside the room and you also got sick and annoyed with this situation.

Then they decide to check Rex outside but Rex doesn't follow and the officer tries to force him both officers begin to suspicious and you get very annoyed with this "We need to check on you sir for sa-" "Look officer everything is all good and safe and as I said earlier we just got in here and he is my friend he is not a killer you have been looking as I apologize to interrupt I just want this to be done" you said and Rex caught your confronting.

Thank god they decided to end the interrogation and apologize before they walked away you close the door and lock it and feeling relief the situation is done and you look at Rex.

"You're welcome, I just want them to be gone it's so irritating," you said you trusted him now since he didn't do anything bad while you were asleep hopped on your bed and began to sleep "I need to rest I have a long way to travel tomorrow" you added and slowly sleep take you.

Rex just watches you fall asleep again and his mind changes, you save him from the police who nearly caught him and he decides to spare you, your confrontation earlier was virtuous as he went back to his bed to rest too he caught your phone notifying and he checks and sees a message of unknown number.

-I'm coming for you, please forgive me I didn't mean to hit you or hurt you I never meant to hit your head on the wall it just my anger I can't control it.

Rex looks at the message and turns the phone off he turns off the light walks towards his bed and turns the lamp on he looks back to your figure sleeping peacefully and he lies on his bed still in the same position as he was earlier and closes his eyes.

Suddenly a low knocking took his attention and look at the door the low knocking continued and he could feel something was not right and he knew what it was.

As the knocking continued a click of the doorknob and the door opened the person slowly went inside and closed the door behind and locked it and they removed their hood it's your abusive boyfriend and he looks towards you sleeping and he looks happy and his obsession grows more as you look peacefully sleeping.

He slowly went towards you and he heard a small noise and looked around and he slowly walked backward and suddenly a hand grabbed his mouth and led him backward the armchair made a small thud and he tried to fight who was grabbing him and he hit the arm and turned around to see Rex and he throws a punch and Rex dodge it and grabbed him again and immediately brought him to the bathroom.

Rex hardly gripped his hands and pushed his head to the tile wall his head bled and he fell to the floor before he could get up Rex quickly took his butterfly knife from his pocket and slid it on his shoulder as Rex looked at him stoic as Rex slid inside to the flesh as he starts to scream and Rex quickly put his hand on his mouth as Rex moves his face close to his.

"Does it feel fun to hurt someone you loved before, does it feel FUN to ruin that love from her... Pathetic man" Rex whispered and took the butterfly knife out from his shoulder and slid it deeper into his neck slowly Rex looked at him with no emotion at all as Rex watched him slowly lose life.

After Rex slid the knife from his neck he got up and watched his work, well he was a bit enjoyed and thankful that he killed someone, and not her.

He wanted to shatter this bastard's body because of his action towards you but he would just hang his body on the street light post, he got out and took a black plastic bag and put the body and he carried the body out of the room as he looked at you still sleeping, he feels the relief you didn't wake up from a small sound and he walked towards the door and got out the room and do what he wanted to do.

...

You slowly open your eyes and slowly sit up from the bed you look towards your phone and look at the time it's near morning and you look at your side and see Rex nowhere you look around and the silence is too loud and you get up and walk towards to his bed and his stuff is no longer there you look confused and you shrugged your shoulder and went towards to the bathroom and saw clean and smell good nature perfume inside, did he just perfume the bathroom before he left.

You are done washing your face and you walk towards your bed you see a piece of paper on the lamp table and you take it and a note.

I'm sorry for suddenly disappearing. I just don't want to disturb your peaceful sleep, so I left this note to let you know. Thank you for sharing your room with me. I appreciate it. I hope you get safety in your travels.

-Rex

A smile forms on your face and you put the note back update your uncle fix yourself and prepare for a long drive again. After you preparing you got out of the room and walked downstairs went towards the register room and gave the key back to the old guy he smiled and thanked you for staying and you smiled back.

You get out and see the sky and the sun slowly rising you walk towards your car start the engine and drive you turn the radio on as you hear the news that another body has been murdered again and it was the worst encounter as the body was hung in the light post and a note was left that he is an abusive person, and before the reporter say another word you turn off the radio.

"That person deserved it, I hope that was my ex-boyfriend"

n: (In the paragraph Rex carrying the body, all the people are very asleep and it is dark at night and the old guy is busy reading the newspaper)

[theshadowsingersraven]

this nyxlin drama lowkey reminds me of the time a zutara artist was run off tumblr because they drew aged up katara/zuko romantically, but I think it was actually angry kataang’s or e/riel’s -because they also drew gwynriel and e/riel’s were jealous- who were stirring up shit 😭

That would honestly make a lot of sense for how/why I didn't see many posts from them or overall in the Nyxlin tag when I was catching up on what happened. Pretty much every person (notably largely Elriels) who supported Elain Week's censorship got an insta-block from me if they weren't already. And I'm sure a decent amount of people blocked me from my stance on Elaingate, Rhys Week, and Nyxlin Week.

And good! You should block me. Seriously. Art has the right to be celebrated and appreciated, especially in the circumstances designed to do that for a specific character and dynamic! Character appreciation and celebration will never look the same to everyone, and just because it's not what you enjoy doesn't mean it stops being appreciative or celebratory. If you can't grasp that, you don't deserve access to my art anyway. You certainly don't deserve to be in my space, that's for damn sure. Kindly, get out.

Honestly, it kind of makes sense considering the overlap of canon rigidity, purity culture, and morality policing of fiction coming from sides of the fandom that generally can't accept criticism about their faves, or even things that go against what they want for their faves. They are terrified of creativity that doesn't give them what they want and it shows. It's the most Evangelical-ass shit ever, and it's fucking weird.

Like...for all intents and purposes, Nyx is an OC in any works that feature him. And I'd know, because I wrote an adult Nyx for my ongoing ACOTAR D&D campaign set 20 years after ACOSF. So yes, Nyx is twenty in my timeline, because it's writing and I can do what I want lol. I have no basis to write Nyx off of other than Rhys and Feyre. Which means...I'm still doing my own character-building to only less than I would for a completely new OC.

Let's compare, shall we?

Writing my OC Solara's backstory: Writing her parents from scratch ✔️ Writing her early childhood ✔️ Writing her trauma ✔️ Writing her adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing her interests and adventures as she became an adult✔️ Writing her dynamic with her love interest and how she interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

Now obviously these are all at minimum influenced by/will be derivative of aspects of ACOTAR because, y'know, transformative works. But still, I made her.

Writing Nyx's backstory and how he is as a twenty-year-old adult: Writing his parents from scratch ❌ Writing his early childhood ✔️ Writing any trauma he might have ✔️ Writing his adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing his interests and adventures as he became an adult ✔️ Writing his dynamic (collaboratively) with his love interest and how he interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

And this is a version of Nyx that I made. Yes, it's still influenced by canon, but if I put in 90% of the same effort to write him as an adult as I did a complete OC, we can acknowledge they're functionally the same.

It's not that people look at Baby!Nyx and instantly think he's perfect to be shipped with someone and there's something to be gleaned from canon about him in particular. We know nothing about Nyx as an individual. That applies to any Nyx ship.

The appeal, at least in my experience, to Nyx ships, including Nyxlin, is the dynamics at play around Nyx, i.e., his role as an eventual leader and powerful figure in the Night Court, the dynamics that affect Rhys and Feyre also extending to him, how the rest of Prythian/Illyria might view the first offspring of High Fae, Illyrian, and Made parents. It's about his circumstances, not him as a character because he is not a "character yet", he just exists!

People are just creative enough to consider those long-term effects on who he could become and how that interplays with other characters. I don't mean to be cruel, but genuinely, have these people never created an OC before? Have they never shipped anything outside of canon? Have they never read any fics featuring time travel, for example, as a plot point to get characters in the same era at the same time when otherwise the ship would not be able to happen? Are they that unfamiliar with making circumstances outside of SJM's canon to allow things to happen for fun?

Genuinely, the lack of creativity for all of us being in this for reading and writing is concerning.

Even just saying this and advocating for Nyxlin's right to be celebrated as well as Tamlin as a whole pretty much puts me in the position of having to tag this as pro-Tamlin. And I wouldn't even describe myself as anything other than Pro-Azriel and probably Pro-Nesta and Pro-Elain because I don't really dislike any characters. I'm equally as critical to all of them and if their good parts just sort of cancel out the bad or are only a bit outweighing one or the other...I don't actively dislike them, I'm just neutral about them.

But this fandom is so fucking polarized because of the toxicity and the Us v.s. Them, Morality Policing culture that's been festering, people can't even neutrally address something. People are harassed so quickly just for not understanding or being familiar with something, and then in the other court people do the harassing because they don't understand or aren't familiar with something the other party likes/dislikes. If don't utterly despise Tamlin, it's somehow considered supportive enough to qualify as "pro" to antis.

Too many people in this fanbase create this parasocial-adjacent attachment to these characters like they're real and have real feelings/boundaries that need to be protected. They are not! Characters can't be hurt by anything happening outside the narrative. Just because you personally do not like something/don't find it appealing or even find it discomforting does not mean it's morally objectionable. It's just not for you, and understanding that experiencing content not made for you is not an attack on you is kind of a necessary life skill.

This rant ended up way longer than I expected it to be, but anyway...y'all stay safe out there.

[lukas-broken-bow]

Okay, we need to address what fucking time travel shenanigans not only get Henry into Pretty society, but also get his HJ7 there with him? Assuming he doesn't just make more of it, thinking that it's safe to let Hyde out now that he's in a city where he's not wanted by the police?

TIME TRAVEL. *slaps half a year worth of experience writing time traveller ocs* I have some ideas. say Bryson (literal Victorian Neil deGrasse Tyson) and Griffin (who I’m rather sure is based on Wells’ Invisible Man - and Wells is also famous for The Time Traveller) worked together on some sort of (incredibly dangerous but would that stop them the answer is no it would not) experiment— something something discovering alternate universes, peeking through time, trying to explore the expanse of the multiverse and the space-time continuum —that they wanted to show to Jekyll (possibly to prove their scientific superiority in these Frankenstein times, because Griffin absolutely would) once they believed it completed. the experiment, being not safe at all, malfunctions and sends Jekyll tumbling through into the Uglies universe/timeline.

regarding the potion: knowing Hyde keeps spare HJ7 in his cloak, and that Jekyll did fully threaten Hyde with the HJ7 in canon (and VERY much followed through), I’d think after the fire and everything, Jekyll starts carrying a couple around with him as a sort of insurance.

Hyde 100% tempts Jekyll into letting him out. no one has even heard of Edward Hyde here, and “there are people partying over in New Pretty Town all the time, Henry, so why wouldn’t you let me out?”. Jekyll probably also wants to see more of this world he’s found himself in, and what better way to satisfy that itch than through Hyde?

[the-shipper-center]

My vent as a former anti. Now, being a proshipper from 2 years

I can still remember the first time I stumbled into fandom spaces—it was around 2018, and, back then, it felt like a completely different world. I spent all my time on Amino communities, pouring my heart and soul into my posts about my unnecessary overly complicated gacha OCs. I’d obsess over any gay ship I came across because, let’s be honest, it was a lifeline. It felt freeing, validating even, to just fangirl and enjoy the ships that made me happy, no matter how niche or strange they seemed to others. I thought I had found my space, my people.

For years, I avoided TikTok like the plague. Until curiosity got the best of me in December 2021. That’s when I finally gave in and downloaded TikTok, thinking maybe I was just being close-minded. I wish I could say it opened my eyes in a positive way, but honestly, it was more like a punch to the gut. Everything I had loved, every ship I had adored, was suddenly labeled as problematic or "gross." And if you dared to enjoy them publicly? Forget it. You’d be torn apart, dragged for things you didn’t even realize people found offensive.

I was harassed constantly, called names, made to feel like I was disgusting for simply liking the things that had brought me so much joy before. At first, I tried to defend myself, to argue that shipping was just that—fiction. But it felt like everyone was screaming at me, telling me I was wrong. I started questioning myself. Maybe I was the problem? Maybe all the things I had loved really were as bad as they said? It got to the point where I was so mentally exhausted from the constant attacks that I gave in. I stopped enjoying those ships. I became an anti, turned my back on everything I used to like, because it was easier to just follow the crowd than to keep fighting. For two long years, I lived like that—policing myself, hating on the things I once loved, just to avoid more harassment.

The amount of hate I got was insane. It was like the second I stepped out of line from what the fandom deemed acceptable, they came at me full force. I can’t even count the number of times people told me to kill myself or threw disgusting jokes my way. The rape jokes were constant, like they thought making fun of something so vile was the way to make me feel ashamed of what I liked. No one should have to deal with that. I’d get these long paragraphs telling me how I was “a disgusting freak,” how I was the reason fandom spaces were “toxic,” all because I shipped something that didn’t fit their moral purity.

But the thing is, living like that takes a toll. It's draining to constantly censor yourself, to constantly fight against your own interests because someone else told you they were wrong. By mid-2023, I was exhausted. I’d stopped even enjoying fandom. I wasn’t posting, wasn’t engaging. I was just… there. And then, almost as a joke, I found myself wandering into a proshipper server. I thought, “Why not? I’ll just see what they’re all about. It doesn’t mean anything.” But the more time I spent there, the more I started to question why I’d let other people make me feel so ashamed of what I liked. I mean, seriously—how had it come to this? Being scared to talk about fictional characters and pairings????

Before I knew it, I started to find peace in that space, like I was finally breathing again. It wasn’t immediate, but little by little, I started to let go of the guilt I had carried for so long. And, yeah, I eventually became a proshipper myself. But it wasn’t some huge revelation or sudden change. It was more like finally reclaiming something I had been forced to give up. And now, looking back on those years I spent hating myself for liking what I liked? It makes me angry. Angry at the fandom, angry at the people who made me feel like I had to pick a side, like I had to tear myself apart to fit into their mold of what was "acceptable."

I made friends. Real friends. People who weren’t there to tear me down, but to support me and share in the things that made us happy. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had people I could talk to without constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if I was going to get attacked for every little thing. These friends didn’t care if my ships were "problematic." They just wanted to enjoy fandom without the toxicity, without the constant fear of being canceled or harassed. And that was something I hadn’t realized how badly I needed.

I wasted years of my life trying to be something I’m not, all because of this toxic, moralizing part of fandom that I never wanted to be a part of in the first place. And the worst part? It wasn’t even about them; it was about me. They didn’t care. They didn’t know me. But I let them control how I felt, and that’s something I still struggle with. Even now, there’s this lingering doubt in the back of my mind, like, “What if they’re right? What if I’m the problem?” But deep down, I know that I’ve found my space again, and that’s all that really matters.

It’s just hard to accept that you let yourself be molded by people who didn’t care about you in the first place. That kind of pressure leaves scars, and I’m still working on healing.

[justrainandcoffee]

Criminal (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc) Masterlist

Summary: Why give her a diamond necklace, a perfume or a new dress, when you can pay a bail to free her from prison? Their valentine's day ended with her in jail, but if you ask Alfie the events that lead her to be there were really worth. And hot.

Warnings: None. Except mentions of misogyny.

Words: 1.1 k.

1912.

The police station was in silence except for the chief's voice who was dictating something to another man who was sitting in front a typewriter.

Name: Rose Elizabeth Coldwell.

Date of birth: 20 June 1888.

Age: 24.

Status: Married.

Name of partner: Alfred Solomons.

Charges: Disturbances in public space, fighting, injuring another civilian.

Murders: zero.

"For now, you fucking pig!" the woman in question, didn't finished what she had started.

"Shut your mouth, lady."

"The day you close your ass, idiot."

"Add 'offenses against authorities'" the chief said to his colleague before turning his head to her "anything else you want to say?"

In response, Rose just showed him her middle finger.

.

How she had ended in such situation was a great question. Supposedly, that very night she and her husband were ready to enjoy a romantic dinner to celebrate Valentine's Day.

A new elegant restaurant had opened its doors and Alfie had made a reservation for them. Musicians were playing a beautiful melody with their instruments when they arrived. A waiter received them and accompany them to their table. Lamb was their choice for that night.

The young couple have only been married for less than a year, so that Valentine's Day was especial. Alfie kissed her hand and she smiled at him.

"I love you"

"I love you, too."

That restaurant allowed couples to dance and they saw several of them enjoying that night. Once the dinner was over, Alfie said to her, they'd dance as well.

But that never happened.

Lost in their own world, Rose only knew what was happening around them when she heard a woman sobbing. In the table next to them, a man was threatening his partner.

"I'm sorry," she said trying not to make an scandal.

"You're a worthless whore, that's who you are. Nothing but a bitch."

"Steven, please… don't."

"Don't what? Whore."

Rose frowned. Not in valentine's night and not in front of her. Sadly, Alfie reacted too late.

"Excuse me," she said approaching the man "Are you Steven?"

"Who the fuck are you?"

Rose smiled at him warmly and repeated the question "Are you Steven?"

"…yes "

"Good! Because I have a present for you!"

"What present?"

"This one!" Rose punched his nose with such strength that immediately it started to bleed and the man screamed. Now the whole restaurant were looking at them.

"My nose, you fucking bitch! You broke it!" the man tried to grabbed her but he couldn't. Over the last months she learnt jiu-jitsu and before the man could realise what happened he was lying on the floor with Rose sat on his back. She was making a key lock with the arms.

"Now listen to me, you piece of shit," Rose said still immobilizing the man. "Your options are very limited. Or I break your arm along with your nose or you learn how to treat a woman, fucking worm. Don't blame your wife if you are fucking, fucking miserable man. If you mistreat her again, I'll find you and I hope you have kids because after I find you, your days as semental are over and you'll learn that a broken nose is nothing compared to have a knife decorating your dick, did you hear?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"What?"

"Yes, ma'am, yes. I swear never again!"

"Good."

Rose let him go at the same time police arrived. The man walked through the multitude not looking at anyone and following one of the officers. The girl who was mistreated by that man and Alfie stayed there.

"Who's she?"

"Me wife," Alfie said trying not to sound so proud, but he was. He knew that she trained in martial arts but he never saw her in action. And to be honest with himself that was hotter than he expected. Such a badass attitude was definitely something new for him. "My Rosie."

They didn't allow Alfie to pay the bail in that moment. They kept adding charges because Rose wasn't ready to let it go. A lioness kept in a cage was a perfect definition for the current situation.

"Fifty pounds, sweetheart," said Alfie when finally, the next morning, they freed her.

"Make it one hundred, you fucking bastards!" she said leaning against the counter. The chief looked at Alfie.

"Control your wife, Mr. Solomons."

"Why don't you control the poor, eh? That's something you do very well! Bastards, part of this oppressive system, I hope you…"

Still protesting, they left the police station. Well, Alfie left the building carrying his wife with him.

"Ok. Enough, we're going home." Alfie picked her up easily and put her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. "Have a nice day, gentlemen."

"Let me down, Solomons!"

"No."

"What? Let me down!"

"No."

"Are you planning to walk with me over your shoulders until we get home?"

"Yes."

"People are watching us."

"Good."

"Have you considered to say anything else apart from monosyllables?"

"No."

Rose sighed while Alfie walked. There were no far away from their home and yet, Alfie indeed didn't seem to be ready to let her go. She accepted her fate. More than one in the streets looked at them amused.

"Nice ass," she said pitching his bottom while he was turning around the corner. She heard him laugh. "Did you enjoy the show last night? The bastard went to hospital and I heard policemen said that he didn't want to present charge but the cops had another idea. Assholes."

Alfie didn't talk until they arrived their home and only inside, he let her down. She fixed her dress while opened her mouth to keep talking.

"You…"

But her words remained in her mouth. Alfie put his lips over hers and was kissing his wife passionately.

"Yes, I saw the show last night and it was fucking hot…" Alfie started to unbuttoned his shirt, guiding her to their bedroom. "Next time, warned me about your skills, Rosie."

She giggled, hugging him by the waist. "I didn't know that was a turn on for you."

"Me neither."

The man grabbed her by the waist and laid over her in bed. "Next time," he said between kisses, "I'll take you with me when I have a meeting with fuckin' Sabini."

"If you want…" Rose beneath him, looked at her husband.

"Oh, I fucking want." Both of them kissed again.

Their romantic valentine's night had to wait until the next morning to be finish the way they wanted to finish it. But it was worth. That 1912, it was probably one of the most memorable valentine's date they ever had. Chaotic, for sure, but they were used to it.

Alfie knew he was married to a criminal, after all, she had stolen his heart.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @kaylinalexanderbooks!

OC Incorrect Quotes

Rules: this incorrect quotes generator to generate some incorrect quotes for your OCs!

In honor of its intro post, let's do oops all Starbreaker!

Anarac: Did you ever have like a pet run away and find it or anything?

Pash: I had a lizard that I burnt.

(Pash would fully cook and eat a lizard with no remorse)

Faalgun: Sorry it took so long to bail you out of jail.

Nyda: No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have used my phone call to prank call the police station.

(ACAB mentality for real 💪)

Faalgun: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen.

Nyda: That’s a snake.

(For context, Faalgun grew up on a space station)

Nyda: All right, Kaulakri , that’s it, you’re grounded! I found a rap album hiding under your bed and it was the clean version. I didn’t raise you to be such a nerd!

Kaulakri : I’m not even your kid-

(We won't talk about Kaulakri censoring all the profanity in her chapter)

Anarac: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be?

Kaulakri: Maybe a bit tipsy?

Pash: Drunk.

Nyda: Wasted.

Faalgun: Dead.

(Appropriate, as he is indeed dead)

Pash: honk.

Kaulakri : WHAT.

Pash: HONK.

Kaulakri : WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SHIT?????

(It's the loud theater kid vibes vs easily overstimulated autism)

Anarac: The universe is cold and unfeeling. The only constant is chaos.

Faalgun: Was that place out of chocolate-chip pancakes again?

(I won't say Anarac is this dramatic all the time, but he probably would be if he lost his chance at some pancakes)

I'll tag @seastarblue @halfbakedspuds @writingamongther0ses @paeliae-occasionally @clearcloudlesssky and anyone else who wants in :)

[darkbluekies]

Headcanon about your yandere OCs, with an Y/N, who seems normal, but later finds out is a serial killer

[I didn't know how to make this a headcanon, so i did my usual reaction style!!]

Silas:

He would somehow see it coming. He can spot it, from one killer to another, but he'd wish that it wouldn't be true. You're his little sweetheart, you're not supposed to be cruel. But you wouldn't have time to do something before he confronted you about it.

"Hey, baby, you don't happen to be a little killer, do you? Don't look so shocked, my love. Of course I know. You're not going to do anything from now on. I don't want you to get hurt. Put those murderous thoughts aside and you won't end up in the basement, got it? Now come give me a hug."

Dr Kry:

Somehow, I feel like he would have his suspicions that something was off with you. He can tell people's body languages very well. And didn't he recognize you after all? He searches through the internet until he finally finds why.

"Good morning, Y/N. I've finally realized who you are, with your real name and everything. Don't look at me like that. I'm not going to expose you. Not after all you trouble you seem to have gone through to hide here. No, my little one. I'm going to protect you. The police won't ever take you to jail. Not as long as I'm here. Now tell me why you did it. I'm sure you had good reason ..."

King Edmund:

He'd be so shocked. He's heard about a great assassin running around the village, killing people. He could never have believed that it was you.

"Y/N ... if this comes out, they'll demand I kill you. Promise me to never do it again! I'll hide it away and if they ever get to know about it, I'll take you far, far away from here! You're still mine. I'll do everything in my power to protect you. Come into my arms, I know you don't mean to. I'm sure you didn't want to hurt anyone. Right?"

Jerry:

Just like Silas, she can spot a killer when she sees them, but she's quicker than Silas in realizing who you are. She's not in disbelief.

"Killed three men in the spam of two weeks? Yes, I know all about it. Oh to see it with my own eyes, I know you'd look so hot covered in blood. Why don't I get you someone to play with? Then both our dreams can come true."

Hedwig:

She'd be horrified! Her wonderful little love is a heartless murderer? It can't be! It just can't! She'd ask you to give her space for a while so she could figure out what she want to do with you. She realizes that she doesn't care ... and she'll do everything to cover up your past. She has the money to give you a whole new identity and kill your last one.

"I'm sorry I've been gone so long. I've done some stuff ... to help you. You're no longer in any register ... and you can start over. W-With me. Just don't do it again. Please."