#the whole twist with sherri

[fanofcas]

the last scene in night shifter is one of my all time fave spn scenes and one of the best uses of music in the show. like i never get tired of it. its so good

[inoreuct]

drink from me

a sherry-laced conversation about thirst and running away. zosan | 2k | hurt/comfort

Being a coward isn’t as easy as one might think.

It’s juxtaposition in its own right; cowardice is, as defined, a lack of bravery— And yet Sanji supposes it takes bravery to be able to ditch everything you stand for. To turn tail and run. Bravery to bear upon your shoulders the disappointment of everybody who had ever believed in you. 

He sighs deeply, tilting the bottle in his hand so that the dregs of liquor slosh within. This is why he doesn’t drink.

It’s relatively easy most days. To lock his past behind a set of double doors, bar the handles with a padlock and chain so he can pretend that everything he’s running from isn’t just three paces behind, snapping at his heels, starved and ready to eat him up whole. Alcohol slots the key back into place and twists it without his permission. Twists his heart until it aches.

He doesn’t know why he’d started. The bottle of sherry had sat, nondescript and guileless and half-full on the galley table after the night’s dessert, and Sanji had paused before he’d slowly wrapped his fingers around the neck of it and let his nails scrape against the dark glass.

The cork had popped almost too easily and here he is now, taffrail digging into his forearms as he takes a long drag from his cigarette and lets bitter smoke fill his lungs full to bursting. Blood orange coats the back of his tongue, cloyingly sweet, thick on the roof of his mouth— He’d made a layered trifle with cacao nibs and caramelised cream that had been slathered between slabs of boozy vanilla sponge, and the aftertaste clings to his teeth. Sanji peers down as what’s left of the sherry glimmers vaguely inside the bottle and fights the urge to chug the rest. 

He could, if he really wanted to. He hardly drinks but it certainly doesn’t mean he can’t. 

A soft scrape against wood catches his attention, barely perceptible. He fights to keep his spine from stiffening, fights to maintain his loose-limbed, easy demeanor; the liquid warmth in his veins helps some but not enough, and he’s halfway through another drag when near-silent footsteps stop just behind him. 

Zoro’s haori shifts in the wind, palm loosely wrapped around the end of Wado’s hilt where she’s strapped alone to his hip. “Was wondering where you went,” he says easily, looking out over the ocean. 

Sanji scoffs. It burns his throat more than the sherry did. “For someone built like that, you’re surprisingly quiet, marimo.”

The immediate urge to kick himself is something new. He rarely feels it— It appears often, don’t get him wrong, he just. Ignores it. It’s a little more difficult tonight. Built like that. The noise that escapes him is mirthless. What’s that even supposed to mean, huh? Alcohol’s always made him snappy and he does feel bad for once — But he’s tired, and the chores won’t do themselves. 

“Make it quick, would you?” he mutters when Zoro still hasn’t replied, low and quiet in the still evening air as he curves down to dig the heel of his palm into his temple. “My spice jars are still all over the counter, and I have to mop the floor before I wash the dishes—”

“It’s done.” 

Sanji blinks, before his eyes narrow and he turns his head to look at Zoro properly. “The dishes?”

“Everything.” The swordsman huffs when Sanji gives him a dubious look, gaze flicking over and away again as he rolls his eye. “Luffy asked me to clean up the galley. Said you needed a break.”

Well. The cook exhales, measured, and buries his face into the crook of his elbow. Taps his cig so that ash doesn’t fall into his hair where he’s holding it aloft above his head. “Tell him thanks, but I don’t.”

He clocks it out of his peripheral vision when Zoro smirks and waves a hand to gesture to his cigarette and his slouch and the glass bottle dangling against wood. “What’s this, then?”

I don’t know. Shop’s closed, please fuck off and come back tomorrow morning. 

The other words that sit at the tip of Sanji’s tongue are far more scathing. He feels them, bites them back viciously before he can burn anyone other than himself. “If there’s a single thing out of place in there I’m gonna—”

“Kick my ass, I know, I know.” Zoro chuckles under his breath. “Don’t you get tired of saying the same things over and over again?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly choose to be selectively deaf, moss-for-brains.”

The swordsman huffs another soft laugh, and conversation peters out after that. Sanji feels an itch building at the base of his skull, flickering just under his skin; it’s making him restless. He taps the bottle against the rail just to fill the silence. Zoro reaches a hand out and Sanji gives it to him easily, unthinkingly, watching and pretending he isn’t as the swordsman thumbs over the faded paper label that’s peeling at the corner. 

Zoro’s hands are scarred, he notes. He knows this, of course, but he never gets tired of letting his gaze drift over tan skin and old scars, thin slivers of pearly tissue painted silver in the moonlight. A breeze ruffles his hair as Zoro finally drinks, and he’s distantly surprised to see that it’s a measured sip and not a swig like what it usually would have been. 

Fucking hell. Sanji’s inhale shudders when he pushes himself up and stands straight, now-free hand wrapping around lacquered wood as he finishes his cigarette and tosses the butt over the side. He needs to stop thinking. He’s paying too much attention. There’s a pressure building behind his forehead and Zoro is an overwhelming presence beside him, unavoidable, stoic and staunch as ever, perfect posture, perfect honour, a sentinel with a pure white sword like some sort of— of hero from a storybook. Perfect perfect perfect.

It’s all building like a scream behind his lips, a river at a bottleneck, and he clenches his jaw to keep it in. Grits his teeth until he hears them creak because what would happen if he opened his mouth? Nothing good, he’s sure. Nothing anyone needs.

Sanji nearly startles when the bottle taps against his elbow. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing to say,” he replies immediately, taking a careless gulp and holding in a cough. 

Zoro’s slow exhale feels like it shifts the wind itself. Their ship creaks gently. “You always have something to say, curls.”

“Look, you—�� He cuts himself off, tempering his breath. “I’m tired, alright? So can you just get to the point?” Fuck, he needs another cigarette. 

Maybe that’s the problem. He knows he’s the problem, sure, but Sanji suspects that he’s been running for so long that he’s forgotten how to walk. It’s grown into him like weeds wound through his ribs, the way he sees poison in water that’s perfectly clean, the way peace makes him more anxious than chaos does. He needs to stop running. He doesn’t know how. 

Zoro pries the sherry from his fingers and it’s only then that he relaxes the death grip he’d unintentionally had, a shudder slipping over his shoulders. Zoro holds the bottle loosely between his scarred fingers and doesn’t drink.

The silence thickens. Static crackles within his bones.

Sanji doesn’t know why he starts talking. Doesn’t know why it feels like a dam breaking in his chest, but his mouth is open, and the words are emptying out. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder for something that isn’t there. Luffy gave me something to run towards, for once, but—”

He doesn’t know how to say it’s not enough without sounding ungrateful, without being greedy. “Sometimes I think I could… consume every one of the Blues, and still want more,” he allows. “Need more.” His fingers lace together, and Sanji dips his head with a wry smile even as he looks at the endless expanse of sky in front of them. “I’m afraid I’ll drink the world and still come up dry.”

There is a thirst in him. Something different than what had wracked him for a month on that barren rock. Hunger he can handle; he eats just enough to stave it off and goes about his day. This, though— Sanji can’t help the way it buzzes in the back of his head and keeps him wound up like a coil of electrical wire. He kneads dough and whisks egg whites just to have something to do with his hands. He defaults to his usual barbs when he’s feeling ungrounded so he can kid himself into thinking he possesses some semblance of normality. His shoulders ache as he stares out over the sea and wonders what it’s like to hold so much and still, still, be so achingly empty.

The winds change, carding cool fingers through his hair. 

“Drink from me,” Zoro says, and Sanji’s breath catches between his teeth.

His head snaps up to find Zoro already looking at him, face unreadable, elbows on the taffrail and bottle cupped in his hands. The swordsman looks serene, Sanji thinks. Gaze trained straight ahead, ever clear of his objectives as Wado gleams at his side, starlight in an ivory sheath. 

“Drink from me,” he repeats. The words are solemn as they always are in moments like these, the liminal space just after dusk but before true night, as his eyes shift over to Sanji and lock in place. “I won’t let you go thirsty again.” 

Sanji’s mouth dries. It’s hard not to feel pinned as Zoro looks at him; the weight of his gaze is almost physically tangible, like a familiar green coat settling over his shoulders. That’s the thing about Zoro— For all Sanji jokes about him having plant life in his skull, the swordsman has a penchant for dropping absolutely earth-shaking statements without even seeming to think about them at all. The cook swallows once, twice, tries to find his words as his lips part and loses them as soon as he takes his next breath.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop feeling like a ticking time bomb. But as Zoro’s lashes flutter and he looks away, Sanji feels something in him settle. The relentless buzz that always seems to sit just beneath his skin soothes out into a quiet hum. 

Maybe part of it’s how Zoro’s scarred and still perfect. Untouchable. Sanji couldn’t hurt him even if he tried, even if he blows apart.

His fingers wrap, unthinking, around the neck of the bottle as it’s pushed back into his hand, the pressure of Zoro’s touch lingering until he’s sure that Sanji has a good grip. The swordsman’s boots brush softly across the planks as he turns to leave and he’s halfway to the stairs before Sanji speaks.

“Marimo.”

He knows Zoro turns without even looking. “Hm?”

“Did Luffy really ask you to clean up the galley?”

A pause, before Zoro starts walking again. “Get some sleep, cook. I’ll take the rest of your watch.”

The silence he leaves in his wake is honey-thick. First watch is Sanji’s shift, it always is— He cleans up the galley and stays awake until Zoro comes to take over. 

(The galley is clean. His watch is covered. His mind is quiet.

For once, he can’t find himself another reason to stay.)

 

The sherry holds no evidence of them ever having shared it. Sanji lifts the tinted glass and there’s no trace of Zoro, no proof that his mouth had ever been where Sanji’s is— None of the candied orange and rosemary from the duck they’d had for dinner, gamey and blood-sweet.

I won’t let you go thirsty again.

Sanji tastes it still, gentle in the back of his throat as he drains the bottle.

[starcrossedreaders]

I keep having this idea of a spy x family scenario with leon as loid and y/n as yor.

Author's note: He literally looks like Loid, I love this idea so much!

Warnings: None!

"You're telling me I need to have a family within a week?"

"I'm sure you can figure it out. Remember we put you on this job for a reason,"

"Yea yea. Condor one out." Leon threw his head back as he tried to think of a way to build a family within his small time lot of 7 days.

He could just lie and say his wife passed in a tragic accident. Although that would be super unethical. Who is Leon kidding, his whole job is unethical.

"So Sherry,"

"Yes Leon?" Sherry shook her head side to side as her feet kicked back and forth while coloring the piece of paper under her.

"How would like to have a mom?" Her head peaked up as she turned to face Leon.

"Like Claire?"

Leon chuckled a little bit, "Maybe not Claire." Although it was a good idea it was too risky, she was too involved in the world.

"hm What about Claire's friend Y/N! I think you two would be cute together,"

"Y/N huh?"

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

"Come on Y/N you know how charming Leon is. You guys would get along together so well,"

"I don't know Claire, I don't want to use him."

"You won't be using him if you go to the date I just set up for you guys,"

"YOU WHAT?"

"I'll text you the details, don't be late." Claire skipped off and out of the coffee shop leaving you alone.

"I can't believe her," Shaking your head you looked at your phone to read her text.

'6:30 on 31 E. Washington Dr. at that cute Italian restaurant! Have fun!

Leave it to Claire to set you up on a not so blind date with a very hot guy. You twist and jump around as you tried to zip up your dress. Heaving, you sat down to put on your shoes as you finally got the dress zipped.

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

"Alright Sherry, I'll be back before 9 be good for Chris!"

"Of course! Be safe."

Leon closed the door as he prayed he won't come home to a burned down house as he walked to the date Claire set up for him. As he entered the venue, he noticed a captivating figure across the room. Y/N, was an enigmatic woman with a reputation for her exceptional skills in cryptography and intelligence gathering. Your eyes met briefly, and a spark of intrigue flickered between them. Leon couldn't help but feel drawn to you.

Sitting across from you he puts his hand out, "Leon Kennedy,"

Your hand grabs his in a rather firm handshake that catches Leon a little of guard. "Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you."

The night went smoothly, there no was long periods of silence between you two as you guys ended up being the last ones in the restaurant before you were asked to leave. Leon had walked you home, giving you a kiss on your cheek and soft goodnight as he walked himself back home.

In the following days, Leon and you found yourselves crossing paths more frequently. Your encounters were brief, as both of you guys were cautious about revealing your true intentions with one another.

Your interactions soon become very frequent, weather that was running into each other at the grocery store or on the streets. Soon, this led into dating. Sherry and you got along wonderfully. It made you wish that this was your actual happy little family, but deep down you knew you were just covering your tracks for the things you have done.

Leon's and yours investigation eventually intertwined, as you discovered a sinister plot aimed at destabilizing global governments. An international syndicate, working in the shadows, sought to exploit sensitive information and gain control over powerful entities.

As you guys delved deeper in your relationship, your connection grew stronger. The trust you built became an unbreakable bond, an anchor in the dangerous world you guys both had inhabited without one another knowledge.

Eventually, you late nights at the office excuse was useless as you guys found each other in the same spot.

"Leon?"

"Y/N? What are you doing down here?"

"I should be asking you the same thing,"

"I-"

"We can talk about this later okay Leon? For now we have B.O.W.S to kill,"

"Right."

You guys had infiltrated a hidden lair, navigating through a maze of traps and enemies. You guys had worked together flawlessly, relying and using each others strengths to overcome whatever came your way.

When the mission ended successfully you guys had finally let it all out, letting your hearts speak as you confessed to one another.

"So you mean to tell me that you originally only dated me because you were trying not to look like an assassin,"

"Exactly right,"

"But yet, we were working on the same mission for two different people,"

"Seems like it,"

Leon could only shake his head, "Unbelievable,"

You stabbed your fork into your food as you brought it up to your mouth.

"But yet, you still want to date because you...love me?"

Placing your fork down you crossed your arms as you look at Leon. "What's so hard to understand, or do you just like hearing yourself talk?"

Leon clicked his tongue, "Tch, yea right. I'm just trying to make sense of it all, it's a lot to process,"

"I understand. If you don't want to continue our relationship after this I totally understand,"

"NO, no- it's not that,"

"Then what is it?"

"It's just....I'm afraid I'm going to get attached and then lose you..."

Your eyes soften as you listen to Leon pour his heart out to you. Reaching across the table you take his hand into yours as you look in his blue eyes.

"I promise you, you will not lose me not in a million years. You only live once Leon, don't let fear hold you back from living."

From there you guys pledged to support each other through future challenges, your love and trust serving as a beacon of hope in a world threatened by darkness.

[mummers-of-the-heart]

To My Dearest One (Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader)

Premise: Leon comes home after a mission.

Sad Vibes/Slight Comfort, Song fic

Word count: 1072

Content warning: Not beta read or really edited if I'm honest. Vague Infinite Darkness and RE6 spoilers. Leon and his whole deal, especially post-RE4 stuff. Depression. Isolation. Implied suicidal thoughts. Reader is sort of a living emotional crutch for Leon. Also reader is not quite all right. I can't write domestic fluff for the life of me. Look, the grammar is going to be a mess, I constantly switch between using APA, AP, and MLA on a regular basis for professional stuff. My brain is gonna zone out here.

Song fic time and first time writing Leon. Came up with the idea while I was studying for my interrogation test for history and I had a concert where this song was performed playing in the background. Finished writing this in between studying for my psych exam in a couple days. Hope you enjoy (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Song: Itoshiki Hito E (To My Dearest One) by Kotobuki Reiji (CV: Morikubo Showtaro), Translation by Utapri No Sekai (slight variation by me)

The apartment is quiet besides the sounds of light music and cooking as he enters. Despite living there for a few years, it lacks much character causing it to feel hollow. One of the only things proving that it was Leon's apartment was the sun damaged photos, yellowed with time.

One of them from years ago as he visited Sherry on her birthday. The smile on the girl's face. Claire.

It all felt so distant.

Everything grew out of reach. Nothing seemed to last for a broken man, especially for one who had the bright sparkle in his eyes beaten out so violently.

As he approaches the kitchen, the smell of onion and herbs wafting through the air, Leon notices the nostalgic yellow tinted light that colors the white walls.

At the stove-top was a familiar figure standing before a pot of soup.

You.

A heart made of glass is always... hurting anything that tries to touch it. Yet you embrace it so tight without fear.

His arms wrap around your waist as his head sits upon yours in this rehearsed dance. He smells your shampoo as he takes a deep breath.

"Welcome back, Leon.” You say in a light tone as if he wasn't gone for a little over a week. "I'm making tortellini soup tonight."

He can hear how much you missed him. Even if you don't say it, those feelings tinge your voice.

"Mmm," he sighs with closed eyes, "That sounds good. Haven't had that in awhile."

Leon’s hold on you is strong. He wants to savor the moment.

There’s an itch in the back of his mind; one that would never leave. That this relationship would only hurt you. That he was taking advantage of your kindness. That he could never express just how much he loved the sense of normalcy you brought.

As if sensing his emotions, you quietly grab his left hand with a softness Leon wasn’t used to feeling.

Your hands were light compared to his calloused hands, which were covered in blood. Regrets marred his digits.

The plush feeling of your lips is unfamiliar to his inner wrist. This intimate touch caused Leon to melt.

A simple touch, a simple act, a simple situation in your eyes but it doesn’t feel so simple to him.

A clink as the spoon is set down. You turn around to face him.

But such happiness is sometimes, through cruelty of God, suddenly in front of my eyes… disappears and it makes me so scared.

The look in your eyes, how greatly it contrasted the steely eyes he would see everyday. Fresh eyes that didn’t twist with fear, changed. Not hardened by painful experiences. The look in your eyes is different.

Tired but understanding.

It is something that Leon was grateful for. A calm in a life that he felt so little choice or support in. A happiness from not feeling alone.

A deep hunger satiated but it caused a fear to rise.

What if you saw what he faces everyday? What if you got hurt even more than before? What if… you left?

They kept scratching at the back of his mind.

I live only for your sake. This voice will take an oath, to my dearest one.

Night carried on. Dinner came and went. No discussion of his work.

The ticking of the clock counting down the seconds before the feeling of the mattress would soon greet the two of you. The nighttime routine felt so unfamiliar. He was a stranger to this domestic moment.

“Apparently Sara,” your coworker, Leon had to remind himself as you spoke, “had decided to drag me out while you were gone. Saying that I was being too focused on work again.”

You roll your eyes in a familiar manner as you wipe the skin of your face with a cloth. There’s a soft, tired look, one that is aware of reality.

“Right.” Leon responds. “I already know you were hunched over your desk, typing away at a proposal looking like Gollum." He chuckles as he remembers the first time he saw you at work.

“Hey.” You pout cutely in response, before sitting on the bathroom counter and sighing. “Let me see your face.”

You put out your hand expectantly and he obliges as he puts his chin in your hand. Reaching with your other to grab his cloth and wetting it with water, you smile sweetly with the look that Leon loved.

A careful caress with the cloth as you clean his face. Your thumb traces over faint scars, reminders of the memories he can never escape. There’s a tightening in his heart at this touch.

As you finish and wring out the cloth, you turn back to face him still sitting on the counter. The softness of your hand shifts to cradle the side of his face.

In response, he lifts your chin with his fingers and gives that charming smile of his. “I have the world in my hands.”

“Not sure about that.” You reply softly. “Pretty sure I got it in mine.”

As you get into bed, due to a learned habit after living with Leon for four months, get into the side of the bed away from the door. He lies across from you and lets out a heavy sigh, as he feels exhaustion wash over him.

His hand finds its way to your waist as the light turns off. Leon’s face burrows itself in the crook of your neck, like something was commanding him to get as close as possible to you. To find the core to the warmth. The rhythm of your breath, a lullaby, gently sends him to sleep as his fingers curl atop your skin slightly.

Even at that moment, the scratching turned into digging.

Your eyes heavy and on the verge of the precipice, a whisper drifts from Leon’s lips as he is asleep.

“My only… Make me happy when…”

Will it be sent to you? Will it be conveyed? Words will never be enough… for this feeling of mine, to my dearest one.

By the time the rays of the sun bounce off your gentle skin, Leon is awake and doesn’t move as he watches you sleep peacefully. A smile creeps onto his face as he notices a line of drool.

In that moment, the man, who long lost his faith and wishes, says a silent prayer.

AN: Like what you read? Consider reblogging or leaving a comment. Thanks for reading.

[locke-esque-monster]

As much as I'm enjoying the nostalgically fun ride that is That 90s Show, and all the new cast, I think I've missed Red and Kitty the most.

K: "Red, I know you wanted to teach her, but you are kind of an angry driver. Last week, you threw a cup of coffee at that funeral procession." R: "The roads are for the living!"

K: "This flight is only 8 hours, and home is for the rest of your life. And if you think death will save you, I will pump you so full of vitamins, you will live forever."

K: "Oh my goodness, you're afraid to fly!" Why didn't you say something before we got to the airport?" R: "I was hoping we'd get into a car accident on the way here. And god bless Sherri, she tried."

Bonus points:

A. To the revamping on the dynamic of all the roles the characters plays as twists and improvements on the dynamics of the original cast (that's a whole post I'm not writing right now).

B. How perfectly cast and written Leia is - she's so believably looks and acts like a child born and raised by Eric and Donna, I don't doubt it for a second.

[littlequeenies]

Hello!

What kind of outfits/clothing pieces were a staple in Demri Parrott's everyday wear?

Thanks so much!

Barbara Dearaujo: “Demri was a fashion nut. She loved everything vintage. Victorian style dresses, 70’s stuff, overalls and combat boots. She wore things no one else could even try to pull off without looking like a weirdo but she always seemed to make the weirdest things look cute and cool. I’m pretty sure Demri was one of the girls who started the so-called ‘Seattle Grunge Look’, for girls at least. Demri was not a rocker chick, she totally had her very own style going on that we all secretly wanted to emulate.

In the early 90’s she dressed in all kinds of crazy yet cute clothes, anything retro or vintage. She loved long dresses, skirts, tutus, overalls and Doc Martins, hand-made clothes, she never really wore jeans and t-shirts, it was always something you’d never think of wearing but looked great on her and made you wish you would thought of this type of thing but even if you had it probably wouldn’t of looked as cool on you. She had that tiny little body that looks great in clothes.

She always wore her hair really long like to her butt or longer and she had thick wavy auburn hair. It was usually knotted and dred locked here and there but knotted or not it always looked cool. She wore black nail polish and when she wore make up she used maybe some black mascara and red lips but she didn’t usually wear a lot of make up, maybe except for lipstick when she went out. She was also the first girl I met who used her lipstick to add blush to her cheeks.” [5]

[Spring 1990 - by Krista Kay]

Ryan Kalsbeck: “Layne and Dem had that full on vintage clothing styles mixed with a hippie, new grunge rock twist. Homemade glass beaded long necklaces and bracelets, funky hats, hair sticks. Dem had pink lace and satin knickers that were real and from the 1900s.”

[1992 - By Alison Dyer]

Sherri: “She would always wear the rolled up overalls with black tights. She was so cute and original. Biggest smile, she always lit up the room. Heart of gold!”

[1991 - By Ed Chalfa]

Jacque: “As to her clothing style, it was kind of hippy chick but distinctively Demri.”

[1988 - By Krista Kay]

Kathleen Austin: “Someone once told me she would show up at a club in an outfit and the next night there would be several girls copying it.

She could pull articles of clothing that no one would think to combine and she would look adorable. She once designed a skirt from boxer shorts. I saw it on paper. As far as I know, it never came to fruition.” [6]

[Ca. 1990s - ByJack Plasky]

Shawna Murphy: “I had one of her necklaces ‘Forever’. It was like black cut glass stones, three strands with a gold clasp. She wore a lot of old-timey costume jewelry.” [6]

[Ca. 1990s - By Jack Plasky]

Tracy Johnson: “She did not want to be known as the girlfriend of a rock star and did whatever the hell she pleased but was friendly and personable to everyone she met. She wanted to be a model that’s why there are so many pictures of her posing. One thing that was funny. We were in Canada (canvouver, as we called it) and Dem couldn’t find Layne and was drunk and pissed off. But she has to pee, so we stopped and she walked in this alley, many people were around, and she just squatted and peed, then pulled up her long johns with her tutu tucked in the back of it and started to walk away. She was gonna find him come hell or high water, even with the whole backside of her tutu tucked into her long johns and wearing converse, of course.

A lot of things she wore didn’t go together, like long johns with big baggy overall shorts and a frilly blouse with cowboy boots. It doesn’t make a lot of sense but you would have to know Demri to understand.” [6]

[Summer 1988 - By Randy Hauser]

Hope that helps :)

Everyone please check the book we put together with our beloved friend Ana, you can download it and read it from *here*. There's all the memories sorted by subject like style,hobbies, voice, dreams...

[latibvles]

Hello! Could you please write 17. Audience for Fern Carmine!

##17 — AUDIENCE.

my kind anon, this ended up longer than intended, hence the header. this feels like a fic in its own right. and now there's some OC mitosis getting thrown into the mix with some background girls. anyways I love you fern carmine and you have a lovely voice <3

—

There’s no singing and dancing in the Army.

That was the first thing her father said to her, looking at the enlistment papers on her desk. There’s no singing, no dancing, no time to stir trouble like you so often do. Maybe he was just angry that, with no sons, he thought he wouldn’t have to deal with sending one of his own off to war. Maybe it’d be his intent to dissuade her.

But then she’d heard her uncle musing about how she’d “wash out” of basic anyway in their sun room, and there was no longer any doubt in her being: she had to go, just to prove that she could, just to make the statement that you don’t tell her what she could and couldn’t do.

So it turns out, both her father and her uncle were wrong. Fern did not wash out of basic training, and there was singing and dancing in the Army. Quite a bit of it, actually, and it seemed to only increase once they hit Europe and the men had their pick of pretty local girls who didn't know them too well. 

So really, there’s just an addendum: in order to have singing and dancing and martini glasses with little olives, you must also go up in a fort and risk your life day-in and day-out.

She’s known quite a few men who’ve made worse deals.

The band is playing something quick and brassy — sounds like Goodman. The people on the floor are moving just as quick: Club Mobile girls and airmen, ground crews and local girls, reminding her vaguely of dances that she’d gone to in high school but without the need to spike the punch. A couple of the replacement girls had latched onto her already, not that she minds as she surveys the room and its occupants.

Wakes could be fun in a place like this.

“He’s got that look again,” Lorraine already sounds bewildered, and Fern follows her friend's gaze over to Bucky Egan — knee bouncing, fingers tapping like a kid waiting desperately for everyone else at the table to finish eating so he could run loose. One of the new girls, a gunner named Diane, looks over as well, and with that, her two crewmates Sherry and Kat follow suit.

“Who, Major Egan?” Sherry inquires, “Looks like he’s having a grand ol’ time.”

“Oh he definitely is,” Lorraine turns her head to fix her gaze on the girl once more. “Then he takes the mic stand and we’ve all gotta listen to him sing loud and offkey for the next hour.”

“Be nice,” Fern chides half-heartedly. There were few things that she knew could break Lorraine’s steely disposition: to see her being so bothered by something was amusing in its own right. “He’s mostly on key. Besides, he's got a lot of enthusiasm.” Lorraine gives her a flat stare.

“Uh huh. Sure. Weren’t you a chorus girl or something before? I don’t get why you don’t just take the damn mic stand.” At that, the shortest of the three, Kat, gasps a little and looks at her with a dazzled expression that has Fern grinning to herself.

“You were a chorus girl?”

“My cousin was. She taught me a couple things. I just did choir in school,” Lorraine waves her hand dismissively — chorus girl, choir girl, same thing — “And you could be a whole lot nicer about asking me, Lori.” Fern decides, dragging an olive from the toothpick they’d put in her glass into her mouth. Lorraine stalls a moment, then twists her body towards Fern further to put a hand on her knee, letting out a long, languide sigh.

“Fern, my dear friend, my favorite radio-woman, would you please go on and sing something to spare both me and the rest of the Hundredth from listening to Bucky’s piss-poor rendition of Takin’ the A Train. Again.”

Fern’s lips curl into a smile.

“You mean your dear friend, and favorite, most talented radio-woman.”

“Fern.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it…” Fern sits up, and Lorraine lets out a groan of relief. “If you get my special audience on the floor. No fun to sing with no devoted fans in the crowd.” Fern’s smile grows impossibly wider, morphing into the mischievous smirk she can’t fight back when she’s looped into a game of darts or cards. Lorraine’s eyes narrow.

“June’ll never agree to that.”

“Have a little faith, Ivanova. You’ve got three minutes or until Bucky pries that mic stand from my cold, dead hands.” Fern tucks an auburn strand back into its place, then watches Lorraine huff as she gets up to make her rounds to locate the rest of their crew. Some were dancers, others weren’t, and that’d be half the fun of it — at least on Fern’s end of things. That’d been half the fun in school; hatching a new scheme, observing who paired up with who or seeking out the trouble their parents had all sent them away to pointedly keep them from.

On their better days, Thorpe Abbotts could feel a little like a COED dorm.

Fern approaches just as the band’s finishing up another song, waving to catch their attention. Then she gives their conductor a smile.

“I need you to play somethin’ for me,” she declares, before murmuring her request in their conductor’s ear. He nods, parrots the request up and through the band as she sidles up by the mic stand, letting her eyes sweep once more over the room. Some of the guys were sitting in chairs, others in the middle of the floor and some dotting the edges — it’s easy to find Harrie grinning like a crazy woman as Blakely tries to keep her from stepping on his toes. Then she catches Buck yanking Bucky back down into his chair by the shoulder, Viv and Willie next to them. The hand Viv puts on Bucky’s shoulder to keep him sitting makes her snort as she counts heads. Lena, Jo, Carrie… Lorraine’s got June by the arm and June is giving her a look of melodramatic betrayal.

“You gonna sing us a little something, Fernie?” she’d recognize Viv’s goading anywhere, locks eyes with her brightly-grinning captain and flicks her own hair back into place.

“Well I just can’t say no to a face like that, can I?” There’s a few laughs, a couple shouts of encouragement, egging her on. She gives the band a nod as if they’ve rehearsed this a thousand times before and recognizes that loud brassy start as she brings her lips to the mic.

Days can be sunny, with never a sigh, Don’t need what money can buy. Birds in the trees sing their day full of song, Why shouldn’t we sing along? I’m chipper all the day, happy with my lot. How do I get that way? Look at what I’ve got.

She makes a sweeping gesture with her free arm, leaning into the music in a way she might not have been allowed to way back when during school choir. Maybe she never got to be a chorus girl, but there were enough show-women and conmen in her family for her to mirror. She could be entertaining and funny like it was second nature — and Fern would still get back in the seat tomorrow all the same if need be.

The music kicks up, nice and quick, she watches Harrie scurry across to one of the clubmobile girls, Helen, and Fern’s grin only grows a little wider once her friends all start trickling onto the floor. She makes a show of walking with the mic stand this way and that, like it’s her own one-woman show. Guys spinning girls around, a couple of those replacements getting the courage to take to the floor with each other or with somebody new - she thinks she catches Sherry’s straw-colored curls among the moving bodies - that’s what Fern liked to see. No point in sitting and stewing on what could happen tomorrow when they could have fun right now.

Jo’s laughing as Douglass gives her a spin about the floor. Inez seems to be taking some type of lead with Carrie, who’s all flushed-cheeks and baby deer steps. Bucky’s like a springboard jumping out of his seat, Viv’s shaking her head no but she’s smiling as he says it. He’s pulling her by the arm anyway onto the floor, spinning her while Buck drags a hand down his face in amusement and Willie’s grinning to herself, as small as it may be. Fern tries not to laugh through her singing, but it’s a sight to see. Her special audience of girls, knowing that she’d only do something like this if it meant she’d get to see them let loose like that.

Fern was a dealmaker after all.

I got rhythm, I got music, I got my man — Who could ask for anything more? I got daisies in green pastures, I’ve got my man — Who could ask for anything more?

[small-tragedies]

001 The Simpsons!

Favorite character: Of course it’s Lisa Simpson. 🤣 When I first started watching The Simpsons, I was really intrigued by her character, and she grew to be my favorite character ever!

Least Favorite character: It would have to be Elizabeth Hoover. Lisa’s teacher at Springfield Elementary School. I just never liked the woman, at least with Edna Krabappel, who seemed like she didn’t like Bart. The thing was, she did actually care about her students and Bart, unlike Miss Hoover, who really doesn’t give a rat’s ass about any of them and has actually bullied an 8-year-old just because she felt like Lisa was a show-off. (Granted, Lisa can be a little full of herself at times, but she’s just a kid, and Miss Hoover is an adult who has personal issues and is taking them out on a little girl.) (Hehehe, I really info dump when it comes to a character I don’t like lol.)

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Lisa and Jessica are my OTP forever and ever! And I could go on all day about why I love them, but then I wouldn’t be able to talk about any other ship lol. I like to ship Lisa with the twin weasels ( I affectionately call them this and like to think Lisa does too 😂), Sherri, and Terri Mackleberry in a polycule V-type relationship (no incest), with Lisa as the hinge. (It probably goes without saying that I also ship the twins’ separately with Lisa too, and it’s usually Sherri. 😆) third pairing (yes, we are counting the twins’ as just the second ship, okay? They’re a unit right now, so I can say more ships,😂) would be Lisa and Allison. I love to think that if they had stayed very close friends, it would have turned into a friends-to-lovers situation, and I just think their relationship would be very cute and sweet, and they would grow old together. And my fourth pair I fancy is Lisa Simpson and Francine Rhenquist... You all are probably noticing a pattern... And you’re right because I have a thing—a thing for shipping Lisa with bullies... I just think she can be a bully whisperer and tamer, okay?! 🤣 And now, last but not least, my final and fifth pairing is Allison Taylor and Hubert Wong. I just think these two are too cute for each other! And they are just two cute little nerds in love. (Shout out to my sister @twisting-echo for getting me into shipping these two nerds).

Character I find most attractive: Groundskeeper Willie hands down! Have you seen that man without his shirt on? Absolutely beautiful~ 

Character(s) I would marry: Kang and Kodos, two one-eyed aliens, just for little ol’ me lol. 🤣💕💕💕

Character I would be best friends with: Professor Frink. I always loved his character and his zany antics.

A random thought: I once had a random thought about making a fic where it would be an AU where everyone had animal-like features, and I had wanted the whole Simpsons’ family to be cats. 😅🤣

An unpopular opinion: Oh, boy, here it goes... My unpopular opinion is that I really haven’t liked how they have written Marge in the newer seasons of The Simpsons. Just some of the storylines they do for her feel like they’ve done it a thousand times before, and it’s gotten old. And I have never liked how they have made it so that Homer has no problems bonding with his daughters, especially Lisa, but nothing with Bart. The same goes for Marge. I never like how in some episodes she can’t bond with her daughter, but honestly, it’s the writing overall because they always make either Lisa an asshole to her own mother or Marge is the asshole. Just why can’t they have cute bonding episodes for the whole family like what I’ve seen in Bob’s Burgers? 😭

My canon OTP: I wouldn’t say OTP, but I had always thought Comic Book Guy and Kumiko’s relationship was surprisingly cute and sweet. 

Non-canon OTP: This wouldn’t be me if I didn’t say it was Lisa and Jessica, now would it? Yessss, they’re my little babies! This ship is very dear to me; it’s been my OTP for years. 🤣💕💕💕

Most badass character: Gina Vendetti. I love her and think she’s a little badass. I also love to ship her with Bart. She’s his scary Amazon girlfriend who terrifies everyone around her lol.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Milhouse and Lisa; just no, I have never thought they worked well together ever! It's just sad to see him pine for someone who does not like him at all. Seriously, it was a running joke that Lisa settled for him, and that’s just sad. Millhouse deserves someone who actually cares and will love him, and Lisa needs to be with someone she’s not settling with because it’s all she’s ever known, and she knows he won’t leave her because he loves her too much and it’s just not healthy or fair to either one of them. (I love my girl, but she has to let him go so he can move on).

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): I have never liked the slow decent at which they have taken Lisa’s character in how the show writes her. Back when the show first came out, she was intelligent, kind, and passionate about the planet and all living things. Mind you, she is still very intelligent, but they have taken some parts of her personality and turned it up to an 180. She is flawed, which is why I love her, but over the years, they have made her more of a snotty brat at times who throws her intelligence in people’s faces, and it doesn’t seem like she’s that kind anymore, and most of what she rebels against feels performative and hollow now. She could always be somewhat intolerant of opinions that differed from her own, often refusing to consider alternative perspectives and showing a feeling of self-righteousness. But it feels like that’s how she is all the time now, and I just haven’t been a big fan of what her character has become.

Favourite friendship: Now I’m going to completely talk about a “fanon” friendship since The Simpsons didn’t give me it in the canon of the show. I mean, sure, I could talk about Millhouse and Bart’s friendship, but sadly, while I like it, it is not my favorite, and the truth is, sometimes they abused each other more than they were good friends with each other lol. 😂😅 No, I’m going to talk about a friendship between Lisa Simpson, Allison Taylor, and Hubert Wong. I always thought it would have been nice for Lisa to at least have someone who was her friend in the show, someone she could bond with, just like Bart with Millhouse. But no, they have always made her a loner just for the sake of writing that not a lot of people like her in Springfield (poor baby, 😭) and they wasted the potential of Lisa and Allison’s friendship. In the show, they always show Lisa as a miserable adult who’s so bitter about everything. I like to think she would have grown up a little differently if she had at least one consistent friend (not Janey; Janey was just as bad as the twins’ with the way they bullied Lisa). And honestly, it would have been nice to see her hang out with two other people who shared similar interests as she did, and it just would have been cute. I definitely have more things to say about their friendship, my sister and I have made up in fanon over the years, but that’s definitely for a different post lol.

I’m so sorry that this is soooo long. 😂 Once you get me started on the Simpsons, I can’t stop rambling like a mad woman about it. 🤣 Thank you so much for this ask. This was so much fun to write out.

[agonycrossbow]

Hey since I've been talking about headcanons all day, do you guys wanna hear a really fucked up and tragic one that I have that I've kind of been obsessed with lately?

The CIA ruined Leon's life; I don't think there's a single person in this fandom who would dispute that.

In a twisted way, I headcanon that they also saved his life.

Leon only broke down and cried over Raccoon City exactly one time. After agreeing to the CIA's "offer" they put him right into surgery because his shoulder was fucked up. He was out of it on painkillers for over 24 hours after the fact.

It happened the first night that he was actually lucid. He was just alone in his hospital room late into the night, and the entirety of the series of events finally settled down on him. It wasn't just Raccoon City and all of the death and gore and horror -- it wasn't just Ada's betrayal and the self-reflection that it forced upon him.

Now, it was Sherry, too. He had been responsible for her, and he ruined her life. And not just her -- he was trapped in a lifetime contract, too -- held hostage and forced into a role he didn't want, to do things he didn't agree with, and he had no way out. No way out for him, no way out for Sherry, no way to get back to Claire or civilization or his life in general.

But that wasn't the true reason he broke down and cried. It was part of it, sure -- a big part of it -- but not the whole thing.

What tipped him over the edge was the realization that the CIA had confiscated his gun.

He had lived through a fucking nightmare and had fucked up so completely that there was no going back -- but there was one way that he could've ended it. And that night, he wouldn't have hesitated. Wouldn't have even had to think twice.

But he couldn't even do that.

Because the CIA had taken his gun.

And so those tears weren't just "shit is fucked and I fucked up and I'm upset" tears. They were hysterical, sobbing "I'm so fucking worthless that I can't even kill myself" tears that lasted hours.

But once it was out, it was out. And whatever was left over the next day, he put into a little box inside his head. He closed that box up nice and tight, and then he shoved into a far, dark corner of his brain to never be opened or looked at again.

He's had a few very dark nights since then, but it's never gotten quite that bad a second time.

Though, there is some part of him that's afraid of the day that that box tips over and the contents spill out -- of the day that he won't want to stop himself, just like he hadn't wanted to stop himself that night.

Because, next time, there won't be anyone to take his gun.

[ithseem]

Gently(ish) Roasting You Based on your Court of Darkness Kin (Updated)

Disclaimer: All of these are jokes, so if you're offended, sorry. Also, I cannot say how accurate this is. Anyways, on to the roasting!

Guy: Congratulations! You're getting your ass dragged to therapy, and you're getting exorcised. Please do not resist

Lynt: Youngest child energy

Toa: How's the gifted kid burnout syndrome treating you? I'm also dragging your ass to therapy and an exorcism. Please do not resist

Roy: Middle child/oldest child energy. You also need therapy

Fenn: You were emotionally neglected as a child, weren't you? Also, how many times am I gonna say "You need therapy" and "You need an exorcism" in this post?

Rio: Do you kin him because you love food or do you kin him because you're the glue of your family/friend group?

Lance: Low-key you seem pretty done with life. tbh, I can't really blame you. You are also in desperate need of therapy and an exorcism

Dia: Autism? Autism. + ADHD and a desperate need for therapy

Lou: You're a sucker and a half for the soulmate AU aren't you? You also need therapy and an exorcism

Grayson: You felt had to make up for your shortcomings by finding at least one thing you're good at, didn't you? Also, you need therapy and an exorcism

Jasper: ... I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and say you probably didn't read his book 1. If this is the case: you are in desperate need of a vacation. If not... well, I'm hoping you don't kin him for... that

Tino: You probably have some form of PTSD or C-PTSD and because of that (at least subconsciously) you don't want others to feel the way you did. You also need therapy to not only help you with that but also a whole slew of other things

Knight: Feral cat energy. You're also insecure about your height, aren't you? Do you also kin Epel Felmier from Twisted Wonderland?

Aquia: Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go apeshit?

Sherry: Low-key, you're a menace to society but in a wholesome way

Violet: You're a tired mom/older sister

[sapphire-weapon]

Hey since I've been talking about headcanons all day, do you guys wanna hear a really fucked up and tragic one that I have that I've kind of been obsessed with lately?

The CIA ruined Leon's life; I don't think there's a single person in this fandom who would dispute that.

In a twisted way, I headcanon that they also saved his life.

Leon only broke down and cried over Raccoon City exactly one time. After agreeing to the CIA's "offer" they put him right into surgery because his shoulder was fucked up. He was out of it on painkillers for over 24 hours after the fact.

It happened the first night that he was actually lucid. He was just alone in his hospital room late into the night, and the entirety of the series of events finally settled down on him. It wasn't just Raccoon City and all of the death and gore and horror -- it wasn't just Ada's betrayal and the self-reflection that it forced upon him.

Now, it was Sherry, too. He had been responsible for her, and he ruined her life. And not just her -- he was trapped in a lifetime contract, too -- held hostage and forced into a role he didn't want, to do things he didn't agree with, and he had no way out. No way out for him, no way out for Sherry, no way to get back to Claire or civilization or his life in general.

But that wasn't the true reason he broke down and cried. It was part of it, sure -- a big part of it -- but not the whole thing.

What tipped him over the edge was the realization that the CIA had confiscated his gun.

He had lived through a fucking nightmare and had fucked up so completely that there was no going back -- but there was one way that he could've ended it. And that night, he wouldn't have hesitated. Wouldn't have even had to think twice.

But he couldn't even do that.

Because the CIA had taken his gun.

And so those tears weren't just "shit is fucked and I fucked up and I'm upset" tears. They were hysterical, sobbing "I'm so fucking worthless that I can't even kill myself" tears that lasted hours.

But once it was out, it was out. And whatever was left over the next day, he put into a little box inside his head. He closed that box up nice and tight, and then he shoved into a far, dark corner of his brain to never be opened or looked at again.

He's had a few very dark nights since then, but it's never gotten quite that bad a second time.

Though, there is some part of him that's afraid of the day that that box tips over and the contents spill out -- of the day that he won't want to stop himself, just like he hadn't wanted to stop himself that night.

Because, next time, there won't be anyone to take his gun.

[snailvee]

metaltango ramblings dedicated to @albertbreasker <3 this got uh. long lmao

they met at arguably the most vulnerable time in leon's life. the intro in re4r really shows how how fucked up he was, forced to sign a government contract and put into military training almost immediately after raccoon city. i think a lot about the contract specifically bc not only did they not want leon going around spilling about what really happened in raccoon, but they also held sherry over him as leverage AND he was only 21. i can't begin to imagine the amount of shit he agreed to then that follows him for the rest of his career, if not his life

this post talks about how leon was not only just thrown into military training, but special forces training, as well as how his looks and being called "pretty boy" by krauser had the other recruits treating him (go read the whole post its really good)

anyways as hard as krauser was on leon, leon distinctly says it's exactly what he needed at the time. something intense enough to rid his mind of all thoughts about raccoon, no mater how brutal that something was. the clip of him and krauser sparring in the re4r intro is so filled with passion, leon is practically snarling at him and the movement of his hair and body just conveys his emotions so well, and having it as a parallel to their knife drill fight later in the game is just. yeah

(self harm mention) i wrote about this a bit in my leon character study fic but i have a hc that because krauser's training kept leon's mind off of raccoon and therefore he thought of it as a positive thing, sparring with and consequently being hurt by krauser became dangerously synonymous with comfort in leon's mind. seeing his signature knife made him calm instead of fearful, even aimed at his throat. he didn't pay much attention to it until the thought crossed his mind to take his own blade to his skin, wondering if it would have the same effect. as grueling as the training was there were still times when he was alone with his thoughts, unable to seek the "comfort" krauser gave him, and he itched for a way to take his mind away during those times too. but i think if he did try it, just pressing his knife lightly against his own arm, that's what would make him snap out of it. it makes him aware of the twisted logic and after that, he doesn't try again. doesn't even consider it. but that doesn't mean he stops throwing himself at krauser while sparring or pressing down on old bruises in the safety of his room.

operation javier is definitely a shift in their dynamic. leon is no longer krauser's rookie to train, but his partner on this mission. they already have a lot of history - krauser is too observant to not notice leon's strange reactions to their sparring - and spending that much time together, even out on the field, was bound to lead to some strange conversations, if not more (yes i'm saying they fucked in that jungle leave me along /lh)

i can only imagine leon noticing how jack seems to change. how he's less critical of B.O.W.'s, even on their mission to eradicate one. how he seems to face their enemies with a sort of awe instead of nothing but the will to take them down. how he closes off the father they get into the mission, becoming someone different than leon had known during training. i can only imagine leon ending that mission with a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing something was wrong with krauser, and not just physically. i can only imagine him getting the news of krauser's death. i can only imagine him clenching his fists as he recalls the last time he saw krauser, gritting his teeth as he recalls the last time he saw krauser when he was really himself. i can only imagine leon trying to come to terms with him being gone.

their reunion is fitting, almost. it carries the same intensity that pulled them together years ago. seeing the knife still does something to leon, although the painful realization that it was buried in luis's back quickly covers it. i mentioned the knife drill before, but it really is such an interesting and well done detail in my mind. krauser isn't just there to fight leon - he's there to remind him of the past. this only extends into krauser building a "battlefield" for leon, purpossefully bringing back more memories of leon's time training under him.

this is pure hc/shipping territory so feel free to skip or indulge me if you want but. reuniting with the man who nicknamed him "pretty boy" by seeing him stab the man who'd been incessantly flirting with him every hour in the short time they'd known each other? god. there's no way leon had the time or capacity to process seeing the man he'd thought was dead for the past two years standing in front of him, let alone him turning into the thing they used to fight against, or having to kill him with his own hands. everything happened so fast that it was almost like krauser was never even back. but after the mission is over, once the adrenaline rush is gone and leon is safe, it all hits him again. he relives every single moment of his sickly reunion with krauser in one night and has no idea what to do about it. not a fucking clue.

but before all that, there is luis. (no i'm not sorry for putting serennedy in here it's my post) luis, bleeding out on the floor, hand still holding his gun shakily in the air. leon doesn't have the time to come to terms with this either - not the strange feelings luis stirred up inside him and certainly not him taking his last breath in front of leon, cigarette in his mouth and words sounding desperate on his tongue when he says, "people can change, right leon?"

for now leon can only move forward with a key in his hand and the knowledge that luis is saving him and ashley one last time ("he was worried about you... until the end" still gets me) just like krauser's, luis's death will visit him again, but not now.

before their final fight, there's krauser's tent. the picture has been talked about again and again but what am i supposed to do, not mention how krauser had a picture of rookie leon with "i'm waiting" scrawled out on the bottom? not mention how it was left out with the recording for leon to find? how in the photo, leon still wears his rpd uniform? how there's such a clear "before" and "after" splitting his life in two?

the recording is also interesting to me, particularly in how krauser words things. talking about a battlefield, saying it's somewhere just for them, how he views what will happen next as a conclusion to operation javier. he does everything in his power to push leon back into the past, whether it be training or the operation. he wants leon confused, conflicted, unable to put himself wholly into the present fight because a part of him is stuck in the past (it doesn't work).

and then there's the fight itself, in all it's glory. the area constructed by krauser himself to remind leon of the training grounds. the taunts, the insults, the smattering of praise, the "pretty blues" and "pretty boy's". krauser's transformation, hulking form looming above leon. the way krauser knows when he's been bested and doesn't hesitate to tell leon that he trained him well. the way leon is made to use the knife he knows so well. and of course, the idea that krauser was supposed to guide leon's hand with his own, but it happen because of krauser's transformed arms.

leon kills the infected. it's his job. but i doubt it ever gets easier to kill something with a face you used to know.

[residentevilvaldelobos]

Chapter five to I'll be your anarchist! A punk Luis serennedy fic! The other chapters are on my A03 link in bio. @alitan99 inspired!

Morning came and went faster than any of them expected, and once it was almost noon, everyone began to worry about their friends' safety. It wasn’t like Luis to sleep in so late, then again none of them have seen him after a rough night of sex. A small creak alleviated some worry, followed by a set of footsteps. Leon was already down in the kitchen, but everyone's eyes were on the spiral staircase. Luis walked down the steps slowly, one hand coming up to rub his eyes gently, the other holding onto the rail as he moved, taking one step at a time.

Luis’ legs felt like jello, his knees and thighs still shaking from the previous night's events, he was wearing an oversized t-shirt that everyone assumed to be Leon’s and a pair of boxers, his feet bare. Every inch of exposed skin from his next down was littered with bruises and welts, his hair a wild mess, and he had an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. He looked like he had walked through a tornado and lived. Despite sleeping until noon Luis looked exhausted, his eyes remained half closed and he looked like he was in a daze, and he never seemed to let go of some kind of support, his hand moving from the handrail to a table, chair, the back of the couch, anything that could support his weight as he moved.

“Dios mio Amigo, maybe I do need to call a gay ambulance” Carlos speaks up from his position in front of the stove.

“I’m fine” Luis mumbled around the cigarette, his hand resting on the back of the couch.

“You don’t look-” Carlos turns to face where he thought Luis was, but he didn’t see him, he only heard a light thud. “Luis?”

“I’m okay!” Luis gets back up, giving the dark haired man a thumbs up before he grabs a seat at the high top table.

“I think you broke him” Ashley laughs and looks towards Leon, watching him as he messes with a machine.

The blonde’s back was to her, his focus on making coffee for Luis and himself. He was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a pair of boots, his torso however remained bare confirming where Luis’ shirt came from. Leon’s back was torn up, large red welts covered the whole length, some marks were deep enough to have drawn blood, but it had been washed away when Leon took a shower not an hour earlier.

“Hmm, he asked for it,” Leon answered as he turned with two cups in his hands. He moves slowly and places it in front of Luis.

Luis rolls his eyes and puts his cigarette down, his hands wrapping around the warm cup of coffee. “You are a beast”

“You love it” Leon answers leaning back against the counter across from Luis as he takes a sip from his cup.

Carlos shakes his head and continues to focus on making lunch for everyone. “So what is the plan today”

“Jill should be coming, she said she found something important” He answers before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Alright, we can line that up with what I found” Leon answers softly.

“Only if you are ready to talk about it. It seemed to really upset you” Sherry answers looking concerned.

“It’s too important to wait.” Leon admits and busies himself with his coffee.

Luis looks up and makes eye contact with his lover, they didn’t need to speak to each other, it was clear just with a single look. Leon knew Luis was there for him, that he loved and supported him, but most of all..with all those bruises, seeing him now after the night's events it proved to his twisted mind that Luis was alive. They had a strange relationship, but it was built on consent, he knew Luis could handle everything they did and if he couldn’t he would have said their word. Leon licks his lips slowly and gives a nod, telling his brunette beauty he was okay.

Luis relaxes a bit and leans back against the chair, his head dropping back for a moment. He wished he took a shower before coming down, but all he could think about at the time was coffee. The brunette lets out a soft hum, something tickling his mind. It was a pleasant feeling, and after a moment he realizes it’s Leon’s cologne. Without thinking he leans forward and lifts the collar of the shirt up to his nose, his eyes closing for a moment as his whole body relaxes.

“You are so weird” Ashley laughs softly as she grabs a plate from the cabinet.

Luis eyes snap open and his face turns scarlet red. He had forgotten he wasn’t alone, and that people could see him. He slowly lowers the shirt and covers his face in embarrassment.

“Oh Luis don’t be embarrassed amigo!” Carlos smiles and puts a plate down in front of him. “You are in love! There is nothing wrong with that”

Luis groaned loudly and shook his head, however the smell of food was stronger than his embarrassment. “Thank you Carlos” He smiles before he begins to dig in.

“No problem Amigo, you are so lucky” He pouts adorably and leans against the counter, satisfied now that everyone had food.

“I know I am” He teases “But tell me what’s on your mind”

Carlos waves his hand and sighs “Don’t worry about it, Sólo mi estúpida cabeza, amigo mío. Brain ha estado actuando extraño.”

Luis tilted his head curiously “¿Qué quieres decir?”

Carlos hums softly and takes a bite of his sandwich. “Me siento sola. Nunca antes me había sentido así. Quiero lo que tienes.”

“Oh Carlos” Luis smiles and touches his hand gently. “There is nothing wrong with that, why don’t you try looking. I didn’t know I needed someone until I found it”

Carlos hums and thinks about it before he shifts and shakes his head. “I don’t know amigo. I don’t trust easily”

“Neither do I” He admits softly. “It’ll be okay, I promise”

Carlos smiles and pats his hand gently. “You are so sweet”

Luis laughs softly and polishes off his lunch with a happy grin. “You are a great cook, maybe that will catch you someone. Remember a way to a man’s heart is there stomach”

Carlos rolls his eyes playfully and smiles at the older man as he finishes his coffee, Luis looked like he had gone through ten rounds with a paintball gun, most of his exposed skin littered with bruises, and even now he looked out of it, like he still hadn’t fully woken up. Leon on the other hand smiled behind his cup and admired his work, he normally wasn’t possessive, but after all he saw, heard, read, he couldn’t help himself. Especially now that he had proof that Krauser was back. He touched Luis, hurt him, Leon felt stupid, but a part of him wanted to remove any trace of that man’s hands on his lover. Even now he could feel that angry simmering in his belly.

“Good you all are gathered”

Luis looks up and turns to face Jill, he normally would have stood up to greet her but right now he didn’t trust his legs. “Did you make it okay?”

“Yeah we are good, Chris has us covered” She answers as she drops a stack of files on the counter. “One for everyone”

Luis swallows hard and passes them out, his eyes attempting to burn a hole into the one in front of him. He takes a slow, deep breath before he opens the file. The effect was immediate and he turned to throw up, his shoulder shaking.

“Luis..” Ashley rushes to his side, her face twisting in concern. “What did you see…mine is empty”

“You are the president’s daughter, you are safe” Jill whispers, besides Ada who is more difficult to get a hold of, the rest of us…” She watches as Luis brings his hands up to his face, his eyes wide in horror.

Leon jerks his attention turning from his file to Luis “Jill, you can’t be serious. Luis, they wouldn’t…”

“I am sorry Leon” She whispers softly. “What he is fighting for, it now includes him”

Luis tense and closed his eyes tight, he felt overwhelmed, and violated, he knew when it started too. It all made sense and he felt like a fool, he should have known better, but he hoped things would be different. The brunette slams his folder closed before anyone could see inside and struggles to stand, his legs shaking more than they were before. The words appeared in his mind like a giant flashing red sign, they didn’t start anything, they were continuing what umbrella started. Even then he was being used and he had no idea, these files proved it. They had records from umbrella, records that stated they had performed secret work on him.

“Luis you should sit” Ashley attempts her hand resting on his shoulder gently. “Please, you are worrying me”

Luis looks towards her, his eyes distant and hollow, the sight starts Ashley and she bites her lip gently. Luis tilts his head gently and touches his head, feeling where he had been hit, he should have realized it before. That hit should have hospitalized him. He chokes his face twisting in pain as it all sinks in and before anyone could stop him he runs, even though he falls multiple times he doesn’t hear his friends panic and keeps going, tears streaming down his face.

Ashley rushes forward and grabs Luis file, her heart pounding as she opens it. The sight takes her breath away, her eyes tearing up before she closes it and hugs it to her chest. It made sense now, his pain, fear, she would be scared too. She planned to keep it hidden until Luis was ready to talk, until he wanted the others to know. Ashley looked up towards the stairs, her heart breaking.

“Luis!” Leon calls out attempting to chase after him, however Jill stops him before he could leave the kitchen.

“I need you here. You saw things and I need to compare things, we need to figure this out” She says softly.

“I'll go, I will make sure he’s safe Leon” Ashley answers before running after the brunette.

Leon closes his eyes and slams his file down on the counter, before he begins to pace the kitchen, his blood boiling, his heart breaking. “What is here.” He taps his file. “Is exactly what I saw. One…looked at me, touched the tank it was in”

“That explains your attack” Ada answers, her eyes still on the staircase, it takes her a moment, but once she makes a choice she moves. “Call me if you need me” She moves towards the stairs.

Jill shakes her head “So they are cloning us and enhancing us. Son of a bitch!” She throws her hands up in anger, before pacing for a moment. “Then when we aren’t useful…what do they do?”

“That or they push us until we do it ourselves” Leon answers softly “But there is more to this, Luis…he is different isn’t he?”

“I didn’t read it, but his reaction is enough to tell us so.” She answers “This is sick Leon, we need to do something.”

“Gather the others, they need to know” He answers softly. “We will compare files, see what is common and what is different, from there we can build on what they want”

The afternoon was chilly, the wind whipping through his hair as he hugged his knees to his chest, his nails digging in hard enough to draw blood. Luis felt like he couldn’t breath, voices, memories, nightmares, they all swirled around him, taunting him like a swarm of bugs. His tan skin seemed to glow in the afternoon light, his hair turning from waves to light curls under the wind. Ada stood at the top of the ladder and watched Ashley. The young blonde looked helpless, her fingers tightening around the file she had carried with her and it was very clear she cared about the elder man. Ada takes a step forward and brushes her hand over Ashley’s shoulder gently, their eyes locking for a moment before she nods towards Luis. A silent push and one that Ashley needed. With Ada by her side she walks across the roof and sits down next to Luis, her knees pull up as well, but she turns her head to look at the brunette.

“Luis,” She whispers. “I have it with me, I won’t let anyone see until you are ready, but I want you to know it changes nothing. It doesn’t change you”

“Doesn’t it?” He chokes out, he doesn't sound like himself, his voice shakes out of fear. “We know what happens to people like that”

“I will die before I let someone touch you” Ashley answers seriously. “It changes nothing, I know Carlos, Sherry, Leon, Ada they’d all agree with me. They’d have to kill us first”

“That’s what scares me!” He yells without meaning too, his heart breaking. “I have…lost everyone, abuelo, my team, now i'll lose you all too”

Ada sits down and forces Luis to lift his head, her hand firm on his chin. “If you think we will die that easily then you don’t know us at all” She answers. “They better bring an army”

Luis was taken aback by Ada’s words and he teared up a bit more. “Leon…I..”

“I swear if you question his love I will knock sense into you” Ada growls softly. “He loves you, no matter what that folder says, you are who you are, not what they have done to you”

“She is right,” Ashley whispers softly. “It doesn’t change who you are. They want this, they want you scared. Without you we can’t fight Luis, don’t let them win. We have to stop them”

Luis takes a deep breath and coughs violently. “It’s just like my abuelo, like valdelobos all over again.”

“It’s not a plaga is it?” Ada asks concerned, her fingers twitching against his chin.

“No. No it’s worse, but I can’t be controlled at least” He admits softly before pulling his head back from her grasp.

“I don’t know how I feel about that, I am glad you can’t be controlled, but if you say it’s worse that also has me concerned.”

Luis looks down and hugs his knees again, his heart aching despite their words. He didn’t know when things would appear, no did he know how to control whatever had been done to him. He was scared, maybe it was karma for all he had done, naive or not he still had a hand in many deaths. Ashley moved closer and wrapped her arms around him, holding the brunette as close as she could. The file in her arms told him she saw, however despite knowing what he was she was afraid. She held him and talked to him like he was the same person and maybe he was…for now. Luis couldn’t help but worry that once this side showed itself he wouldn’t be himself anymore, would he recognize his friends? Would he hurt them? The thought made him sick, and he wondered if he’d lose his mind just like his abuelo.

“You are going to be okay, we will help you through this Luis” Ashley whispers “Please trust us”

Luis closes his eyes and wraps his arms around her, his head resting against hers “I do. I trust you all. I am just scared”

“A wise man once told me ‘it’s okay to be afraid, you know, but you can’t run, you got to keep moving forward. We will beat this’”

Luis laughs for the first time since they saw him in the kitchen and a tear runs down his cheek. “That sounds like him…” he admits “dios even now he is a light ey. He’s not even up here”

Ashley chuckles softly and looks up at him. “He’s smart, and he loves you. He knows something is wrong and I know he would say that to you”

Ada hums “indeed, now please come inside. You are only in your boxers and a t-shirt. Come back downstairs and rest”

Luis licks his lips and takes in their words, his hands still shaking. “Okay.”

[fredkorematsu]

Barbeque Chicken Sloppy Joes Recipe Barbeque sauce infused with a citrus twist is the perfect sauce for these makeover Sloppy Joes made with shredded chicken. 1/4 cup orange blossom honey, 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves, 2 pounds shredded rotisserie chicken, 1.5 cups barbeque sauce, 1 package whole wheat hamburger buns, 5 tablespoons orange juice, 1 teaspoon cooking sherry, 1 teaspoon grated orange zest, 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

[auxiliarydetective]

The OC Halloween Challenge - Day 4

You can find the challenge here!

Today's prompt was...

Twisted

From reality episodes where two people experience switching roles with one another to an alternative reality where their roles are different from their home’s universe, make your character experience life through a whole new perspective by making your hero the villain or your villain the hero.

First of all, R.I.P to the fallen pieces of my brain:

Varsha Devi as M's experiment

Princess Sherry as Queen of the Koopas

Kassandra Hargreeves as a Commission Agent

Also R.I.P to my poor laptop. It went through the horrors while trying to process the following image. So, without further ado... Here it is!

Sith!Lani Skywalker aka Darth Raivoa

Lani's whole point as a character is being impulsive and emotional and feeling the dark side constantly looming over her shoulder. She gets pulled into it by her father, Darth Vader, making her promises of everything she has ever wanted and (unintentionally) pushed towards it by Luke and her constant jealousy over how easily everything seems to come to him while she has had to struggle for years to control her abilities. So, what if she had snapped and finally given in?

Also, if you're wondering what exactly gave my laptop so much trouble... It's the flames. Poor laptop...

[mermaidsirennikita]

Do you know of any historical romances where either the heroine or the hero is already involved with/betrothed to/married to someone else? They’re all pretty different but the three that come to my mind are The Viscount Who Loved Me, Duke of Midnight and Waking up With the Duke. Can you think of any more? Thanks!

Elizabeth Hoyt has a couple others!

To Taste Temptation has a widowed baroness heroine who’s engaged to another man and starts an affair with an American.

Notorious Pleasures has a heroine who’s engaged to one man and starts fucking his brother.

The Madness of Lord Ian MacKenzie by Jennifer Ashley has the heroine on the brink of accepting a proposal from another man at the beginning of the book, and the hero sends her a note that’s like “GIRL HES TRASH” and it is hilarious, and she ends things with the other guy and starts fucking Ian.

The Saint by Monica McCarty has a hero and heroine who were like teenage sweethearts, but their clans were at war so they were separated and she got engaged to a guy who turned out to be his best friend. The book kicks off with her marriage and it is intensely angsty.

The Viper by Monica McCarty has the heroine married to a trash bag for the first chunk of the book when she’s traveling with the hero, but after a time jump she’s no longer married and the beef she has with the hero is…. Something else.

The Heiress Hunt by Joanna Shupe has the heroine get engaged to the DUKE OF LOCKWOOD!!!!! at the beginning of the book, and the hero (her childhood friend) is real mad about it. Naturally, Lockwood needs to go get passed around this group of friends like a blunt, so you know it ain’t gonna last.

The Rogue of Fifth Avenue by Joanna Shupe has a heroine whose dad has set her up to marry this loser, but she’s fucking around with daddy’s lawyer/fixer on the low.

Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas has a twist in that the hero and heroine are married but have been separated and had affairs with other people in the interim decade. They meet up again when she wants to divorce him and marry someone else, and he says he’ll allow her that if she gives him an heir first.

Her Night with the Duke by Diana Quincy has a widowed heroine who hooks up with the hero in a one night stand, only to find out that he’s set to get betrothed to her stepdaughter. SUPER good.

The Marquess Makes His Move by Diana Quincy has a married heroine (unhappily) and a hero who’s attempting to take down her husband for other reasons and poses as a footman in her household.

The Countess by Sophie Jordan (out in March!) has a married heroine whose husband wants their daughter to marry this rich man… and the rich man is more interested in her than her daughter. Would recommend pre-ordering, especially if you love angst.

The Wrong Marquess by Vivienne Lorret has a heroine who’s got this deal with her childhood friend that he’s gonna propose to her soon, but he’s dragging his feet and she’s super into him. Then she starts getting into these tiffs with her new friend’s older brother, and these tiffs… could they be…. ATTRACTION????

Scoundrel of My Heart by Lorraine Heath has the thing where the hero helps the heroine catch the attention of a Duke and the hero and heroine fall in love in the process but then oh shit everything changes, time jump, hero and heroine meet up again after she’s engaged to the duke (who has his own whole THING with his secretary, which is the focus of the second book).