#there's another 1.5k of this in the doc

[alteredphoenix]

An Unexpected Joyride (The Veleanor Modern AU #7)

A/N: While I'm thinking of which Celia/Michelle WIP I'm going to pull from the USB Drive and work on next (and given the month we're in, it'll probably something holiday-themed), I decided to open this guy up since it's last update in June 23 (to which it was created in May 23 of this year) after I received a lovely ask from an Anon last night about the Veleanor Modern AU series.

I had been thinking about this WIP on and off again since the last time I touched it, and I figure now would be a pretty good time to dust it off and work on this while (1) I am browsing my WIP list and (2) it's still on my mind before the brain decides To Go Brrrr and plunks it back into the far recesses of the thoughtful nether where all things belong and go to.

This is also the fic where Magilou makes her first actual appearance! But the WIP so far hasn't gotten to that point yet (but it's almost there!), so this little snippet will do for now.

Part of the summary goes as such: "(Or: Magilou has a busted muffler and it needs to be fixed last month, so Velvet, being the good convict that she is, decides to drive the damn car to the auto shop herself. As always, Magilou makes for...interesting company.

There are less than one-hundred ten hours to go.)" (I honestly might change this up as I go along idk, I kind of want to try fitting the countdown into the titles somehow)

(At the moment, the doc is sitting at 2.1k words. I get the feeling it might turn into a longfic, or close to it, so I foresee this maybe reaching around the 10k mark. Even if it doesn't, it's a good idea to set a tentative goalpost - Just To Be On The Safe Side.)

-

The first thing that Velvet notices that today is not going to be like any other normal day in this corner of hell upon waking up at six in the morning is there’s a distinct lack of music playing somewhere from the next block over. Only the fan churning quietly in the corner and the distant early morning traffic that would surely get drowned out by a higher setting could be heard.

Why the fuck...? is the first thing she thinks of after listening to the world, and then she frowns and glares up at the ceiling. No. It’s nothing. Quit being fucking paranoid all the time. With a grunt she pushes herself up onto her elbows and swings her legs off to the side of the bed. Just as she’s about to stand, she stops, and glances behind her, mattress creaking with the motion.

On his back, with his paws up in the air, Doodle snores gently, his smile eternal.

Velvet slowly shakes her head, gets up, and starts the day.

The sun is just peeking over the horizon when she’s refreshed, alert, and wondering once more how she’s going to spend her day off. The tiled floor on her bare feet say it’s cool, but one glance out the door into the world beyond the houses with their manicured lawns and the vehicles parked on the sidewalk next to their trash and recycle bins and then the street that’s plunging away down the decline and deeper into Pendrago proper and Velvet can already feel the heat is going to be a motherfucker.

This is the second thing that crosses her mind when she goes back into the kitchen to open up the fridge and crack open an ice-cold bottle of canned coffee that Eizen loves to call Aifread’s finest espresso on this side of the equator, grown and brewed straight from the coastal towns of Shining Blue: hot weather makes for a hot girl in all the wrong ways, and working in the garden, in all her pasty-ass white girl glory, makes for being hot in all the wrong places. At this rate, she’d welcome the rain. She’d even welcome snow, lack of shovels and snowblowers and extreme winter weather survival gear be damned.

Her hand is slick with the gathering condensation. Velvet sighs and halfheartedly knocks it back.

(It’s not the worse coffee she’s ever had. It could be whatever black magic the Katz Gang throws together in their labs, nicked off the boats and the warehouses in their raids from nearby Hellawes to distant Fennmont and Sapstrath in Rashugal – but knowing Eizen, and knowing Eizen’s luck, he’s probably had it and then some. The Reaper’s Curse as he calls it, and Velvet’s not sure if it’s from his time rolling with the Van Eltia Family before he got involved in her bullshit that made him miss death every single time or, as Edna puts it, is ungodly, recklessly stupid enough to somehow avoid going to an early grave by sheer circumstance every single time, without fail.

Velvet likes to think it’s the latter.)

She plugs in the toaster, jams in two cold Pharia cinnamon waffles from the freezer into the slots, and watches them slide out of sight as soon as she primes the lever down and mucks around with the settings (just enough to make it brown; she’d have to be out of her goddamned mind like Rokurou and Eizen are for wanting to have her grains black as sin). Then, after a pause, she walks across the island and turns the TV on. As always, it’s tuned to the news, the necessary evil in her life among the sea of reality shows, game shows spanning back forty years, and other programs that pad the airwaves for the stay-at-home parents, the retired elderly, and people that don’t have anything better to do with their lives.

Thankfully, it’s not about the weather (and anybody with a brain that’s lived in Pendrago, even just Hyland by itself, or the westbound border of Rolance, for more than a month would know that the forecast is almost going to be warm and dry as hell ninety percent of the time), so Velvet more or less ignores it in favor of getting her plate out of the cupboard and preparing the rest of the meal. The toaster hums away.

[io-u-a-moon]

A little scene from the AU currently living in my google docs! I have a couple comic pages planned out, we'll see. I'll probably end up posting them at some point, if anyone's interested.

[zeawesomebirdie]

I hate having enough energy to want to write and/or write millions of notes about fics i want to write but not enough energy to actually write said fics

[munson-blurbs]

https://www.tumblr.com/munson-blurbs/756854229024620544/i-wanna-write-a-smutty-blurb-either-eddie-x?source=share

A smutty blurb, huh? Ok what about phone sex with Eddie? Reader has been away for college and they miss each others a lot, miss touching each others and they get carried away during a phone call.

Or maybe, one where they are in a secret relationship but it's getting more and more difficult to not being affectionate towards each others when they are with others, so one day during a sleepover at one of their friends house, while everyone else is asleep, they go hide in a bathroom and they go from kissing to have sex on the counter

I went with the second option! My brain saw it and I sprinted to my Google Docs.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), an inconvenient boner, fingering, unprotected p in v, kind of public sex, secret relationship, sneaking around

WC: 1.5k

“Hey.”

Eddie’s soft voice was barely audible over the hum of the TV and Robin’s sporadic snores. Nancy and Jonathan had claimed the sofa bed and were currently curled up in the center of the Buckley’s living room. You had laid your blanket as far away from Eddie as possible, so as not to draw any suspicion from the rest of the group. 

But he stood above where you’d been trying to sleep, towering over you. Had he noticed you pressing your legs together as you tried to quell the desire building between them? Did he know that you were replaying memories of him kissing your neck as he pushed into you?

“Hey,” you managed, smiling up at him. “You okay?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.” He glanced around the room, making sure everyone else was sound asleep. “I was just thinking about you, and, um…” 

Your eyes widened when he gestured to the tent in his pants, now backlit by the TV screen. 

“Was hoping you could help me out.” 

You nearly melted at the sheepishness in his smile. God, he was adorable even when he was horny; you didn’t realize that was possible. 

“Yeah, of course.” Your stomach flip-flopped when he offered out his hand; you took it and followed him to the bathroom. 

Eddie’s lips were on yours the moment the door locked behind you. You could feel his erection through his pajamas, pre-cum leaking through and giving evidence of the way his cock curved slightly left when he got hard. 

He moaned when you pressed your body against his. “I’m so hard, it hurts.” He nipped at your bottom lip, snaking a hand up your shirt and groaning again. “Love when you wear pajamas.” His thumb grazed your nipple. “Because it means you’re not wearing a bra.”

You hummed in agreement, though following even the simplest conversation seemed impossible now. 

Eddie’s other hand trailed down past the elastic waistband of your shorts. He all but whimpered when he felt the wetness awaiting him. 

“I was thinking about you, too,” you confessed. 

He grinned against your neck. “What about me?” His middle finger easily found your clit, making deliberate circles that sent pleasure rippling through you. 

You took a moment to collect yourself, already hypnotized by his touch. “About that time we cut class and you ate me out in your van.” Your breath hitched in your throat. “A-And then I offered to suck you off, but you al-already came.”

The memory came rushing back: his desperation to please you, culminating with a pair of ruined jeans and another sloppy make-out session. 

“I was a bad influence on you that day, huh? Ditching school…fooling around in public…” Eddie gripped your hips, supporting you as you hoisted yourself onto the bathroom counter. 

You shoved Robin’s hair dryer aside and scooted back. Eddie tugged down your pajama pants, then your panties, his tongue darting out over his lower lip when he saw you fully on display for him. 

“Anyone could’ve caught us,” he continued. Taking a step closer, he ran his middle finger through the wetness between your legs before sliding it inside you. “We’ve gotta be careful. Don’t want people getting suspicious.”

You could only manage a nod, gripping the counter’s edge, as he filled you with just one thick finger. He kept the rhythm slow and even, working you with a patience you hadn’t known existed. You wanted all of him, and you wanted him now, but he seemed perfectly content to focus on your pleasure. 

Eddie’s ring finger joined his middle, both curling upwards to hit your sweet spot. “How’s that?” He murmured in your ear. 

“G-Good. Little faster, maybe?” He eagerly complied, sending euphoric surges through your body. “Perfect. Oh my god, oh my fucking god, yes!”

The exclamation came out louder than you intended, sending Eddie into peals of laughter. “Sshh,” he managed, slowing his pace slightly. “We don’t want them waking up.”

Now that would be a conversation for the ages. How could you possibly explain to your friends why Eddie was two fingers deep inside of you? Sure, you all had been studying for the science final, but it wasn’t an anatomy class. It was awkward enough when you struggled to concentrate during Nancy’s rapid-fire quizzing. And then Robin had to repeat what she’d read from her notes because you kept staring at Eddie’s tongue poking between his lips. 

You clamped your lips shut now, focusing your energy on your trembling legs. He just knew how to touch you, how to make you feel good, after months of sneaking around. His fingers learned your body like they had once learned to play the guitar. 

And damn, if you two didn’t make some beautiful music together.

“Eddie.” You tried to tell him how close you were, that he was bringing you to the edge, but there was only one word you could utter. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…”

“That’s my girl. Let go for me.” His voice was husky, gaze meeting yours. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful when you come for me.”

You clenched around his fingers, chanting his name as quietly as you could. His pet name for you reverberated through your mind. My girl. You were Eddie’s girl, and every part of you ached for the world to know.

“Baby, can I…” Eddie’s breath tickled your neck as he gingerly withdrew his fingers and palmed the bulge straining against his pajama pants. As soon as you nodded, he loosened the drawstring and pulled his cock free. “Sh-Shit, fuckin’...” He trailed off as he stroked himself, using your arousal as a makeshift lubricant. 

The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, your body welcoming him without resistance. A whine escaped your throat; this time, Eddie didn’t even attempt to quiet you.

His fingers gripped your hips to keep you in place, your own nails digging into his back with enough force to leave crescent-shaped indents through his t-shirt and into his skin. Each thrust had you holding him tighter as he grew harder still inside you. 

“Goddamn, you feel perfect.” Sweat matted Eddie’s curls to his face, and you pushed the strands out of his eyes and tucked them behind his ear. “Thanks, baby.” He kissed you, a token of his appreciation and his desire. 

Everything melted when his lips were on yours. They always did; it was as though the rest of the world faded away. The stress of final exams, the whirlwind of events between prom and graduation and college, the weighty expectations on your shoulders…they evaporated when Eddie kissed you. 

Eddie kept his nose to yours, sneaking kisses whenever he caught his breath. “Can never get close enough to you, I fuckin’ swear.” Each snap of his hips brought you both hurtling towards climax, and you could tell that Eddie was trying to hold out so you’d finish first. 

“I wanna come with you.” Your fingers weaved through his hair as you pulled yourself closer, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t hold back, okay? I want you.”

He nodded, his kisses sloppier and only halfway on your lips as his orgasm neared. “Say that again for me?”

The slight tremor in his voice turned the command into a whine and weakened your minimal remaining resolve. “I want you. I want you so bad.”

“Yeah?” Eddie spoke through clenched teeth as he moved faster, harder, more determined. “Yeah, you want me? Or you need me?”

“Need you. Need you, I need you…oh my god, I need you!”

His mouth curved into a knowing smile, though you thought you spotted some relief behind it, too. As if he was glad that you wanted this as much as he did. How could you not? 

You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your breast. Eddie squeezed, feeling your nipple pebbling beneath your shirt.

“Fuck, I…I’m gonna…” He thrusted into you—hard—and spilled into you with a groan. “Oh my god…holy shit…”

Eddie’s chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, his orgasm slowly releasing him from its alluring grasp. “Baby…” He looked at you, eyes widening in realization. “You didn’t get to come.”

“I did.”

“I’m not talking about earlier.” Eddie shook his head. “You didn’t get to come during, like, the actual sex.”

There was no use denying it; he knew all of your tells too well by now. “No,” you admitted. Dejection brought Eddie’s gaze from your eyes to the tile floor. “But it’s okay. Really.”

He shook his head again. “It’s not okay. I wanna make you feel good, y’know? You’re my girl.”

There was that name again, accompanied by butterflies in your stomach. “Guess that just means you owe me an extra orgasm next time.”

“Well, ‘next time’ better not be in my bathroom!” Robin’s disgusted voice rang through the door. “I swear, if there’s an ass print—or worse—on the counter…”

“Looks like they know now.” Eddie smiled as he kissed you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “You ready for the interrogation of a lifetime?”

You laughed as he helped you down from the counter. “We should probably wipe off my ass print, first.”

“Very true. Your ass and its prints are for my eyes only, baby.”

--

[alt-vera]

— text me, texas ⁀➷

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joel miller worries that the girl he’s been seeing is holding out on him on purpose. she definitely isn’t.

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♡ | joel miller | 1.5k | ❛ text me texas - chris young ❜

warnings: pre!outbreak joel miller. outdoor oral (m!receiving). praise. fond nicknames being used. deep throating. age gap. mdni.

❝ it’s breaking my heart and i’m starting to get the message… c’mon and text me, texas ❞

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JOEL MILLER COULDN’T KEEP HIS EYES OFF OF HIS PHONE.

　Whether he was working, or making breakfast for Sarah, his flip phone was always in his peripheral vision. He didn’t even know if it was intentional anymore.

　It’d been a week since he heard from you. A week since the two of you had gone on a nearly disastrous date. A week since he’d gotten a text from you reading, “Talk 2 U L8er, cowboy”

　Texas and Cowboy. You were the one who started the nicknames, jokingly calling him cowboy when he’d come into the ER for some stitches he’d earned during work. Joel knew he shouldn’t be hitting on the resident more than a decade younger than him patching him up, but he loved the way the corners of your eyes crinkled as he cracked a ludic joke, and the way the tip of your tongue peeked out of the corner of your mouth as you honed in on your work.

　This lead to him asking for your number as you discharged him, and you saying yes for a reason Joel couldn’t figure out. Of course, your residency schedule wouldn’t allow for a date right away, something that wouldn’t happen for another two weeks after your fateful meeting, but it did allow for an abundance of phone calls between the two of you.

　Something that had become so routine for Joel that, with their current absence, had caused him a week of fitful, sleepless nights. Missing his texas that wasn’t really from Texas.

　Even now, as he and Tommy shot the shit sitting on the back of Joel’s shoddy wooden porch, beers in hand and cicadas buzzing a backtrack for their conversation, he couldn’t help but steal glances at the folded black device sitting on the table between them.

　“Maybe she’d finally come to her senses,” Tommy suggested with a shit-eating grin as he took a sip from the glass bottle in his hands. “Realized she could do better than a dirty ol’ contractor.”

　“Don’t talk as if your shit don’t stink,” Joel replied gruffly, calloused hands picking at the peeling label of his beer. “You’re in the exact same boat as i am. How is Ashley, by the way?”

　“Fuckin’ a lawyer,” Tommy replied with a roll of his eyes, a much more forceful sip being taken now. “Hey, maybe that’s why she hasn’t called you. She’s fuckin’ her doctor-supervisor whatever it’s called.”

　“Or maybe she’s been too busy patchin’ up dumbasses like yourself.”

　Your voice cut through the summer air, stunning the two men as they turned around to look at you. You leant against the sliding glass door, tank top wrinkled from being in your locker all day and jean shorts hanging low around your hips. Your hair was wild from being thrown up all day, shining in the setting sun as a six pack hung loosely in your hand.

　“Texas,” Joel said weakly, stunned to see you there.

　“Cowboy, Ranger,” You greeted respectively, smiling as you moved to stand in front of the two as you put the pack on the table. “Glad to know you two still think about me when i’m not around.”

　“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Tommy mumbled, face ruddy from being caught shit-talking. He placed his empty bottle on the table, fishing out a new one from the pack you brought. “I’ll be drinking this one at home, Doc. Thank ya.”

　You gave him a two-fingered salute as he stalked off, taking his chair and popping the cap off your beer. Joel’s mouth hung agape before he snapped to his senses, hand running over his stubbly jaw.

　“Tommy, y’know, he was just bullshittin’,” Joel mumbled, eyes trained on you, looking for any sort of indication that you were pissed. “Y’know I don’t think you’d do something like that.”

　You laughed heartily, which put Joel somewhat at ease. He melted into his chair just a bit, taking a quick swig.

　“I know, cowboy,” You teased the nickname. Your shorts rode up a bit as you shifted, and Joel fought himself not to stare. “My attending’s been up my ass this week, sticking me in the ER til i ran out of ice packs and stitchin’ thread. That’s why i’ve been so M.I.A.”

　Joel ignored your addressing of your silence, instead quirking his lips up into a teasing grin. “Meet any patients as charming as i was?”

　“Nope,” You replied, taking a swig of your own. “No one can beat the one and only Joel Miller.”

　Joel angled his body more towards yours, “Is that why you took it out of your busy schedule to come see me?”

　“Actually,” You said, wrist twirling as you stretched your soreness, “I have tomorrow off, so i thought i’d pay my dear cowboy a visit, seeing as i left him in radio silence for the past week.”

　“Yeah, darlin’, you can’t do that to an ol’ man like me,” Joel sighed, tracing the wood of his chair. He was never good at being vulnerable. “Made me think you were off, i dunno…”

　You picked up where he trailed off. “Fucking my doctor-supervisor whatever?”

　Joel shook his head, crows feet prominent as he squinted. “No, just that maybe… there was someone else.”

　“If you ever can’t call,” He continued, “You can always text me. Even though i don’t know how to text back, you can always… text me, texas.”

　“Well maybe I can make it up to you…”

　A sly smile danced on your lips as you sank from your chair and onto the balmy wood of the porch, crawling between Joel’s already spread legs. Your fingers traced the pattern on his bet buckle, doe eyes moving to stare up at him. “Sarah’s sleeping over at a friend’s house, right?”

　“Yes,” Joel’s voice came out as a broken sigh. His fingers came up to trace your jawline, rough pads leaving tingles on your smooth skin. “Y’know you don’t have to make it up to me, texas.”

　Your head cocked. “But i want to.”

　Those four simple words made Joel practically fall apart at the seams.

　You felt him relax into his chair, which you took as a signal to continue. You delicately palmed him through his tightening jeans, a groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you did so. More confident in your actions now that you knew he was enjoying himself, you unbuckled his belt and jeans, pressing kisses to his clothed member.

　Joel’s fingers danced through your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail as you pulled down his boxers, cock springing up against his dark tee to meet the gentle summer breeze. You spit into your hand, stroking him before smoothly taking him into your mouth.

　Joel could stare at you all day, Texas sunset painting your skin with warm hues, your cheeks hallowed as you took him the best you could, hand stroking what you couldn’t. It took everything in him not to bust the moment you got on your knees in front of him.

　“That’s it, darlin’,” He cooed, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek as you took him deeper, throat bobbing against him as you tried not to choke. “Just like that.”

　You pulled away for a breath, and he leant down and kissed you. Your palm still stroking the head of his cock as his tongue swirled with yours. He could taste himself on your tongue, the tang of precum mixed with beer.

　You pulled out from the kiss, smiling as you turned your full attention back to his cock, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth as you focused on making him cum, just as it did when you did his sutures.

　Your muscle tickled his slit as you took him once again in your mouth, wrapping around him as you continued to go down. He groaned, large hand putting gentle pressure on the back of your skull as he encouraged you to take him in farther.

　“You can do it, baby. You can take it all.”

　His encouragement spurred you further, nose coming to meet the wiry hairs at his base as he fully went down your throat. You sputtered around him, but he held you in place, hips bucking up into your mouth.

　“Fuck, darlin’, i’m cumming.”

　His warning came out broken as he moaned, hot seed travelling down your throat and leaking out the side of your mouth. You pulled off once he was milked, using your thumb to collect the fluid that escaped, licking it clean.

　You tucked him back into his boxers and laid your cheek on his jean covered thigh, smiling up at him with a lopsided grin as he fondly played with your hair, tucking it behind your ears and massaging your scalp.

　Joel couldn’t stop himself from grinning back, lips curling as he playfully rolled his eyes. “That was one hell of an apology, texas.”

[boobearymuch]

His Ghost on Film

Summary: Leon never talked much about his past, so it felt odd to see remnants of his life before you knew him as one of the government’s top agents. Before he ever faced off, again and again, with the world’s most dangerous minds and their monsters. You’re in awe of the younger Leon in your hands, and you quickly pick up another photo in hopes of seeing more. Tags: Leon S. Kennedy/gn!reader, older!leon kennedy, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcoholism Word Count: 1.5k Read on AO3

Notes: finally writing bc I'm sick and sniffly and gross !!1 hoping to get more writing out soon, I have so many ideas sitting in my docs 😭

The photos spilled out on their own, you swear. It’s not like you made it a habit of sifting through Leon’s personal belongings anyway – you respected him too much for that – so this small transgression would surely be forgiven. However, nagging curiosity kept you from returning them right away. Tucked away in the back of a sock drawer, the photos came tumbling out when you put laundry away and fell to the floor in a scattered flurry. You quickly lowered yourself to scoop up the unruly pictures, but a dazzling smile stopped you in your tracks. It was Leon’s smile. 

He posed alone, raising a hand to salute cheerfully at the camera while the other rested on his hip. The uniform he donned suggested the photo took place back when he trained as a police recruit, not for the DSO. Leon never talked much about his past, so it felt odd to see remnants of his life before you knew him as one of the government’s top agents. Before he ever faced off, again and again, with the world’s most dangerous minds and their monsters. You’re in awe of the younger Leon in your hands, and you quickly pick up another photo in hopes of seeing more. 

There are other recruits in this photo, each of them laughing and smiling like they were sharing a drink at a bar and not caked in sweat and dirt. Leon is laughing just as hard, clutching his stomach with a muddy hand. You can’t believe how young and carefree he used to look; the agent’s demeanor is a lot more serious now, hardened from years in the field. It’s difficult to imagine this version of Leon angry or upset, or a scowl ever gracing those pink lips. As you thumbed the photo, you admired the fullness of his cheeks, the haunted look in his eyes missing. In fact, they even seemed to sparkle.

“Having fun?” Leon’s rough voice is a murmur over your shoulder, and you start at the sound. The baritone in his words is rough with sleep from his nap, something you banked on lasting at least another hour or so. Leon’s hands settle over your shoulders, rubbing down your arms as he too kneels to the floor to peer at your hands. Heat rushes to your face instantly. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.” Your tone is truly apologetic, but Leon doesn’t say a word as he reaches forward to thumb the film of him smiling in your hands. His lips are stretched impossibly wide, teeth visible, and eyes squinted in what appears to be a moment of pure joy. You can’t remember a time he smiled that big. He analyzes it quietly, perhaps remembering something. “When was this taken?” You ask softly.

“1998.” He replies, and suddenly regret consumes you. Perhaps he felt you tense up because his hand promptly smoothes over the curve of your back. “This was early spring, I think. Can’t remember what was so funny.”

“You’re adorable.” You can’t help but say. You could practically feel Leon roll his eyes. 

“I suppose it’s better than the alternative.” He mumbles.

Feeling slightly better about getting caught, you pick up another photo. This one is of him squinting in the sun, t-shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal pale shoulders. “Your farmer’s tan…!” You say it with the utmost adoration for the discovery, but Leon only groans.

“Hmph.” Leon’s snort of disapproval only eggs you on.

“Was this the same year?”

“No,” He responds, “That was 2002.” There’s a beat before he hesitantly adds, “This was South America.” The apprehension he says it with tells you everything you need to know about the photo. It’s not a good memory either. You hum in acknowledgment and gently pick up another picture. 

“Oh my god? Is that the president?”

“And his daughter Ashley.” Leon adds casually, as if he hasn’t been keeping the most insane piece of information about himself from you. 

“How…How do you know the president and his daughter?” You’re ogling at the photo, but once you’re over the shock, you can’t help but appreciate how sharp Leon is dressed for this picture. Hell, his hair is even gelled back. You’ve never seen him do that to his hair for anything, not even the fancy banquets the DSO makes him attend. You whistle jokingly at the photo of him. “But more importantly, who is that fine gentleman on the right?”

This makes him scoff out a laugh, flustered by your antics. “I…did the president a favor. Let’s leave it at that.” His reluctance to reveal more sobered you a little. Now you looked too closely at the photo, at the way fists clenched at his sides, the heavy furrow of his brow, those tired, dull eyes. This couldn’t possibly be the same Leon from before, the one laughing in mud. “I hear Ashley is a researcher now.” He remarks kindly, “Hope she’s doing well.”

You only nod, unsure what else to say. Leon picks up the last photo on the ground and flips it over to reveal a fairly recent image. “DSO?” You question, and he hums an affirmative. You recognize the people in the photo as Leon’s coworkers and friends. There hasn’t been much opportunity to get to know each other well, but Chris and Claire do come around every once in a while. Leon wears a suit – jacket discarded to hang over his shoulder – but gives the camera a tight smile. The others in the photo are dressed just as nice, their smiles just as forced. 

“Our first banquet. Mandatory banquet.” He emphasizes with a chuckle. His hand then gives your arm a light squeeze. “This was just before I met you. We were practically running on fumes. I had just flown in from Europe, if you couldn’t tell by the dark circles.” You huff lightheartedly at the comment, but your eyes linger on his false smile. “Hell, I think Chris and Jill had just arrived from Central America too. Needless to say, it wasn’t terribly fun.” 

There’s a beat before Leon finally collects the pictures from you and stands before offering a hand to help you up. He didn’t talk much about his past, so you knew if the opportunity slipped by you now, you’d never muster the bravery to ask again. “Leon,” You say, grabbing his attention as he gently tucks the photos away in the drawer face down. 

“Hm?”

“Why do you keep them?” You ask softly, and he tilts his head at you. “I mean, they seem sad in a way. I know you don’t talk about these things much for a reason, so…why keep the reminders?”

The silence only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like it stretches for minutes. He seems to consider your question seriously though, taking the moment to tap on the closed drawer before exhaling through his nose. “In this line of work, we all have things we’d rather leave in the past.” His gaze remains low, eyes watching his blunt nails pick at the wood of the dresser. “And there was once a time I was so desperate to forget, I nearly…it just got too much.” His sobriety was not new information. You learned about it early on in your relationship, wanting to support him any way you could. But it seems there is more to the story than you originally conceived. “As much as I wanted to forget, I couldn’t. It took a while but I realized…if we don’t remember, then who will?” His palm now lays flat against the drawer, as if he could feel the magnitude of the photos that lay within. “I���owe it to everyone in Raccoon City.” 

Now, you understand. You understand why he doesn’t talk about his missions or his early days in the field. When he’s on the job, it’s all he does. Remember. And you can’t help but admire him all the more for it. The work is demanding – it takes much more than it gives – but Leon’s made peace with it. “Why are you looking at me like that?” His tone is self-conscious suddenly, and he’s trying to mask it with a teasing lilt to his words. 

“I don’t know.” You tease gently, “I think I’m in love with you. Just a bit.”

The corners of Leon��s mouth lift up into a boyish smile, and suddenly it’s like you’re staring into the same, sparkling eyes of that rookie police officer back in 1998. The Leon in the photographs never left, you think. He’s here, scarred and bruised, but grinning like it’s your first date. “Oh, really?” Leon mumbles as he pulls you into his warm chest to rest a pair of soft lips against your forehead, “That’s unlucky.” You pinch his hip playfully. “Ow.” His laugh is a rush of warm air against your skin, and he quickly soothes your anger with another kiss to your head. “I think I love you too. Maybe.”

You hide your smile in his broad chest. “You’re so annoying.”

Leon practically burns with adoration. “Only around you, sweetheart.”

[miel-ji]

Nightmare

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: nightmare, crying, mention loss of loved one, grief

Summary: you were awoken by Chan because of a nightmare that you were having who tries to help you feel better and go back to sleep

A/N: I just think Chan is so perfect for this situation like he’s already such a comforting person that he’d know exactly what to do. Also, I had some really interesting titles in my docs but now all I can think of are basic T-T

Chan is a light sleeper. Always feeling on edge and like there’s something more to be done makes him this way, so the soft whimpers you were making in your sleep caused him to stir awake quickly. From the moonlight that illuminated your face and sliced through the pitch black darkness of your bedroom, Chan could see your eyelashes were wet with tears. In fact, there were tears escaping your closed eyelids now, and your cheeks were wet from where you’d been crying for a little bit. Worry quickly took over his features as he furrowed his brow, and his lips were pulled into a deep frown. He could feel his chest constrict with concern for you, and his heart squeezed when another soft cry fell from your lips.

You could feel yourself being pulled from your dream by a gentle shaking on your shoulder. When your senses finally came back to you, you felt something prickle your face. You reached up to brush it off, but to your surprise, you caught a tear that was streaking down your face. That’s when the events of your dream came flooding back to you.

Your hands mindlessly continued to wipe at the tears that spilled from your eyes after remembering that they had visited you again, and you had to relive the pain of losing them all over. You sucked in gulps of air trying to calm yourself down as sobs wracked your body. Through the midst of your breakdown, you could hear a gentle voice soothing you, and then arms pulling you against them to anchor you back in reality.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you…” Chan whispered softly against your temple, and he pressed soft kisses there. He cradled you against his chest and kept a firm arm around your back where he was rubbing soothing circles. You could feel your tears falling against his bare chest as you continued to work at breathing to calm yourself down. The scent of his body wash and him filled your nostrils and assisted with regulating your heart beat.

“I’m- ‘m sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you,” you managed to choke out in a broken sob once you found your voice, feeling bad that you had disrupted his sleep. You knew your boyfriend didn’t get much sleep as it was, and it was an even rarer occurrence for him to be able to spend the night with you. You hated that tonight of all nights you had to have one of those dreams. No nightmares.

Chan cupped your jaw, and his fingers rested in your hair as he used his thumb to wipe away your tears. You felt like you had no control over them as they kept pouring out of you despite your best efforts. He stroked your cheek, and his touch was feather light, trying to be as gentle as possible with you. “You can wake me whenever you need me, Y/n. I promise.” You could hear his voice rumble in his chest, and you shifted to wrap an arm across his middle. You were halfway lying on top of him now with your legs tangled in the sheets, and he smoothed your hair down while you breathed shakily.

Being so close to him was exactly what you needed. Having his strong arms wrapped around you and being surrounded by his scent was exactly what you needed. He was your safety and your home, and you could feel your chest slow down. Your breathing was slowly becoming even. “There you go, baby girl. That’s it. Breathe.” He was smoothing your hair down and gently brushing through it with his fingers. His other arm was hooked around your waist, and he squeezed you reassuringly. “Inhale…” he took a deep breath, and you did the same trying to match his breathing. “Exhale…” you sank down with his chest as he expelled the air from his lungs, and you let him guide you through this a few more times.

“Thank you, Chan…” you still felt a dull ache in your chest as the feelings from your dream lingered, but you were thankful for your boyfriend who was there to help you through it. You probably looked like a mess with your tear-stained face and tangled hair. You didn’t want to move from Chan’s bubble, and right now, you didn’t really care. He didn’t really seem to care either as he just held you closer and kissed the top of your head.

“I just want you to be okay,” he mumbled, and the hint of sadness in his voice caused you to chance a look up at him. He looked angelic in the moonlight that highlighted one side of his face and cast shadows on the other. You lifted up from him just a little to shift further up his body. You gently massaged in between his eyebrows that were still tight with worry.

“I’m okay, love. I’m okay now.” You watched as his face relaxed against your touch. You leaned down, and lightly kissed his beautiful heart-shaped lips. He kissed you back slowly falling into a rhythm perfected by time. “Promise,” you mumbled against his lips.

He carefully slid you off of him and laid you back against your pillow. You shivered a little from the lack of his body warmth, and he pulled the blanket up over your shoulders. Your eyes grew heavy, and it was getting harder to keep them open until you felt the space beside you was empty. You frowned and peered up at Chan’s silhouette stretching by the bed, “where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting you some water, baby.”

“But I want you to stay.”

“I’ll be super fast that the bed won’t even have time to get cold.”

You wanted to protest further, but you knew you were a little dehydrated from all the crying you just did. You now became aware of the throbbing that had settled behind your eyes, and the lump in your throat you couldn’t seem to swallow. You just nodded your head, and let your eyes slip closed again. Chan wasn’t lying when he said he’d be fast because within a minute, you could feel the bed dip beside you, “hey, baby?”

“Hm?”

“Can you sit up for me?”

You yawned softly before sitting up in the bed, not quite ready to open your eyes. You could hear a small giggle from Chan, and he cooed, “cute.” Your lips curled up into a little smile as you swayed from sleepiness. You had expected Chan to hand you a water bottle when you felt a soft cloth pressed against your face. Your face was no longer wet with tears, but he had still grabbed a washcloth to help you feel more refreshed.

He took extra care of gently wiping your cheek, “my beautiful baby.” He moved to wipe the other cheek, “love of my life.” He even smoothed the cloth over your forehead, “perfect angel.” He finished off his praises by tucking your hair behind your ears, and you finally opened your eyes. You were a strong person having faced your fair share of hardships and managing to pick yourself back up again, but you made up your mind that you always wanted Chan there to help you through them from now on. And you wanted to be the person that helped him through them as well.

You found him looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes that you wanted to cry again, but this time because you were overflowing with love for this man. You gazed back into his eyes and hoped that you were able to convey the same to him. He unscrewed the top from the water bottle and handed it over to you, “will you drink some for me, baby?” You took the water bottle from him and took a sip which made you realize how thirsty you actually were. You took a couple of more big gulps, and you could feel your headache instantly ease up. You took the cap from him to put it back on the bottle, and place it on your bedside table.

You finally were able to retreat back to the warmth of your blankets, and you felt Chan settle down beside you. He let out a little sigh as he tucked you into the crook of his arm and once again pulled the covers up over your shoulders. You returned back to your position of your arm slung across his middle and legs entwined with his. His one arm was against your back again, the other rested on top of yours that was around his middle to keep you in place against him. You felt warm and light on the inside and out as you let sleepiness wash over you again.

You were sure Chan had already fallen asleep since his breathing slowed, and he hadn’t said anything in awhile. Your eyes closed once again, and a peaceful silence filled the room. You could feel yourself slowly drifting off again before your boyfriend’s voice called out to you.

“Y/n,” his voice was deep and raspy with sleep.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, you were both finally able to fall asleep again. All the negative feelings of before were forgotten as Chan, as always, made you feel nothing but safe and loved.

[16bruises]

Descent

word count : 1.5k

important information for writers who use google docs

A conversation between Miles and Peter B after the events of Across the Spider-Verse

”Truth without love is brutality, and love without truth is hypocrisy”

-Warren Wiersbe

“Hey-hey Miles, buddy listen-“ Peter B took a moment to catch his breath and check on Mayday before continuing, “when Miguel gets pushback he tends to.. uhm overreact.”

Miles stared deadpan at Peter before mumbling, “I feel like I, of all spider-people, would know that.”

“Well- Yeah- Well, you know- Miguel just- He” Peter fumbled with his words for a good minute before combing his fingers gently through Mayday’s bright red hair and started over slowly.

“I know you have some idea of what happened with Miguel’s daughter, he just… has a really really really hard time listening to alternatives when it comes to this kinda stuff Miles. And hey, don’t get me wrong, you were makin’ more sense to me than he usually does.” Peter chuckled lightly.

“I thought he was going to kill me” Miles fully turned to face Peter, “I thought he was going to kill me for not being bit by a spider that got into MY universe or for not being my universe’s Peter Parker and then I thought he’d go after my Dad.” Miles’ voice grew hoarse towards the end of his words, his eyes starting to water as he remembered the pure fear and adrenaline that had pumped through his veins while being chased down by Miguel O’Hara.

Peter, careful to not upset the young boy further, tugged Miles close and wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry Miles, if.. If I’d known I swear to god I would’ve done something- gotten you home so fast, kid. I would’ve done something I swear.” He spoke softly, mindful of his sleeping baby.

Miles glanced down at Mayday before leaning into Peter’s shoulder, accepting his safe hold. “I believe you, I trust you, ok? I know it might not be your place but could you just explain Miguel’s situation? At least a little bit more to me, if you’re alright with that.”

Miles’ eyes darted down to the ground awkwardly as he waited for Peter to respond.

Peter patted Miles’ shoulder and sighed, “Yeah, I don’t see why not. Most of the spider society knows about it anyways”

Miles faced back towards Peter, “I just wanna understand his situation a little better so maybe I could see where he’s coming from… you get me?”

Peter smiled sadly and patted Miles’ shoulder again, “Yeah Miles, I get you.”

-

“As you know- Miguel took the place of another man. He stole that man’s life and he paid the price for doing so.” Peter’s eyes stare out into the cityscape as he speaks,

“Miguel had a daughter, Gabriella. She was pretty young when… everything fell apart.

He had a wife there too, a really lovely lady.”

“Anyways, when that universe fell apart Miguel wasn’t able to save Gabriella, she disappeared straight out of his arms.” Peter leans down to press a quick kiss onto Mayday’s little forehead, “I think that’s always been a hard thing for him to grasp, that he genuinely couldn’t DO anything to save her at that moment.”

“But his wife, (y/n), he got her out. He got her to his actual universe. I don’t think you met her, I only met her once or twice. She lives in 2099 now.”

“How did he get (y/n) out?”

“I think he panicked at the first sign of the end and told her some stuff but who really knows? The only facts we do know is that she’s the only survivor from her universe and she had a dimensional travel watch thingy on when her universe kicked the bucket.”

“Do you think Miguel told her to wear the watch?” Miles stared down at his hands as he whispered.

“…yeah, he probably did. He probably did the same with Gabriella too. But, what little girl is gonna happily wear a hunk of metal while she plays soccer? Y’know?”

Miles hummed in response and glanced at Peter, catching him with his shoulders slumped and his face sad.

“Anyways.. back to what I was saying— Miguel’s wife, (y/n), survives the destruction of her universe. He’s heartbroken over Gabriella but he’s trying to focus on his wife. He goes to console her about the literal death of everything and everyone she’s ever known…

and she doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. In fact, she doesn’t know where they are, why he seemed so upset, where Gabriella was.”

Miles squinted, “I’m confused”

“She didn’t remember anything. She didn’t remember Miguel, the one we both know. Her memory.. her memory only went up to a certain point. Come to find out she can’t remember anything past Miguel -her Miguel’s death.” Peter huffed,

“Miguel was already losing it because his baby girl was gone and now the love of his life didn’t remember him.”

“But that wasn’t HIS daughter or wife”

Peter turned to face Miles, “He still loves them, a lot. A ton.” Peter responded sternly.

Miles looked back down at his hands, “You said (y/n) lives in 2099 still but she still doesn’t remember what happened to her kid?”

“Yeah, it’s… rough.” Peter tilted his head upwards, looking at the sky

“And you said you’ve met her”

“I have.” Peter could see the curious tilt of Miles’ head in the corner of his eye.

“The first time I met her was a little before MJ told me she was pregnant so it didn’t hit as close. Thinking back on it though, I-I couldn’t imagine.” Peter sounded distraught,

“I was gonna ask Miguel something, I honestly can’t remember what, it’s not important. And she, (y/n), was just… there. Miguel was showing her these videos of their daughter and (y/n) kept asking when Gabriella’s soccer practice would be over because she couldn’t remember what time they ended.” Peter looked downwards at Mayday before carding his fingers through his hair and deeply sighing.

“If (y/n)’s been away from her kid for so long wouldn’t she catch on? At least notice that something was up?”

“You’d think so but I think having your universe of origin wiped from existence probably messes with your brain. She glitches out even though she’s basically shackled, nobody’s ever seen her without the dimensional watch on.”

“Do you think she’s gonna.. not.. be around as long?”

“I’ve heard she’s been glitching more frequently so, she probably won’t be around for as long as she should’ve been.”

“What was the second time you met her like?” Miles fidgeted with his fingers nervously. He could tell Peter was sad about and for Miguel and (y/n).

“Hm… Miguel wasn’t there that time, it was just her. And it was after Mayday had been born. I wanna say it was like the 3rd or 4th time I’d brought her with me. Mayday gets loved on LOTS by spider-people but (y/n) just melted. She adored Mayday. Mayday liked her too, it was really cute. I got a ton of pictures by the way… if you wanna see later.” Peter grinned

“I’ve seen more pictures of your baby than I’ve seen spider-people!” Miles groaned playfully.

“HA! Well, anyways not to kick a dead horse- but that whole.. all of that is kinda why Miguel is so hellbent on keeping this canon stuff. We’re all pretty sure (y/n) doesn’t have very long left and that’s not your fault Miles but he’s been getting worse as she gets more and more… uh glitchy? I guess.” Peter patted Miles in the shoulder before pulling his arm away to wrap both around Mayday.

“Do you think she knows about the canon stuff at all?” Miles cracked his knuckles, glanced between his hands and Peter.

Peter kissed Mayday’s hair, “Doubt it” Peter frowned. “Miguel… he’s a hypocrite Miles.”

Miles turned to fully face Peter once again, this time he didn’t know what to say.

“He loves her, I know it. It’s sad. Heartbreaking what he’s gone through.” Peter tucked a loose strand of hair carefully behind Mayday’s ear, “But he’s spiraling, his wife is.. his wife’s dying and he’s not handling it well. Who would? That doesn’t mean he should ever have done what he didn’t to you Miles.” Peter reached a firm hand out to Miles shoulder.

Peter looked up, cleared his throat, “Not to ramble, but my point is: he would and has broken canon for his wife. She, and again I think she’s lovely, should not exist anymore. But he went against everything he claims he stands for to keep her. So.. we’ll get you home Miles, and we’ll make sure you and your dad are safe. If Miguel tries anything.. I don’t think I’d enjoy it but if it comes down to it I will get (y/n) involved if I had to.”

part 2 - Remembrance

[softxsuki]

Hello, congratulations on your milestone!!! I am not sure if there are any spots left, but if there are, can you please do the trope enemies to lovers with a tokyo revengers character? Have a nice day and congratulations again!!!

1.5k Follower Event Trope #1 Tokyo Revengers

Trope 1: Enemies to Lovers

This event is now CLOSED. You can check out the masterlist for this event here.

| Pairing: Baji x Gn!Reader | Genre: mmm fluffish?? | Post-Type: Drabble | Word Count: 760 |

Warnings: Slight mention of violence and being killed (baji says it once, no one actually dies)

Note: Thank you so much! I had this one sitting in my google docs for while because I didn't like it, but I reread it today and I think it grew on me after letting it sit there for a while lol. Enjoy :D

“Why are you here again?” Baji spits, not impressed at all.

You were another person Mikey had dragged in, finding you interesting and deeming you both friends, not that you minded. You hadn’t joined Toman, but Mikey always invited you over to their base, and you quickly became fond of many of them, including a certain black-haired man that couldn’t find it in him to accept you.

“Still suspicious of me? Seriously Kei, ever thought about loosening up?” You question, walking past him.

The nickname makes Baji’s heart flutter slighty, much to him mentally refusing to acknowledge it. “Oi, I told you about calling me that name. Stop acting like we’re so close to each other! I don’t want you here,” he grits, hating how unfazed you were by his  ‘hatred’ for you.

“Yeah yeah, I know you like it,” you tease, disappearing down the stairs to head back home for the day.

Since the first time Mikey introduced you to everyone, Baji had his suspicions about you. How could everyone just openly accept you to hang around them and listen in on their meetings? What if you were working for a rival gang, showing up to get intel for them? Why was he the only one suspicious of you? And why did you have such an affect on him? Your carefree attitude, your disregard for being surrounded by dangerous men. He felt so conflicted.

The longer you hung around, the more he let his walls fall, yet he kept that stubborn, rudeness whenever you were with him. He refused to show that he had somewhat trusted you, let alone that he may or may not have a thing for you–though he’d never admit that to anyone, he could barely admit it to himself. 

One day though, you had managed to gain all his trust. You had found a sneaky rat from a rival gang sneaking around Toman’s grounds, just looking for trouble. Could you fight? No. Were you still going to call him out and try and get him to leave? Yes.

You approach the man and begin to threaten him, talking big for someone who couldn’t defend themselves. Baji was watching the whole thing go down from afar. A tinge of suspicion grew as he watched you approach the man who was clearly up to no good and didn’t belong with Toman, but that all vanished as soon as he saw you try and make him leave.

“That idiot,” he grunts to himself, tying his hair up as he makes his way over to you, arriving just in time as the guy goes to throw a punch your way.

Baji quickly pushes you out of the way, and easily beats the guy up, mentally making a note of the gang attire he wore so he could inform Mikey of the situation later.

“Are you insane? It’s like you were just asking to get killed! You should have just shouted for one of us to help, we’d be able to hear you if you screamed loud enough. What kind of idiot who knows they’re weak, tries to fight someone off alone?” Baji went on and on, telling you off, yet all you could do was smile at him.

“Stop looking at me like that with that stupid grin, it isn’t funny”

“Heh, you care about me,” you smirk, egging him on.

“Of cour- What?! NO! No, I don't. What made you ever come to that conclusion?” He screamed, his face growing red at his almost confession. Why were you so irritatingly cute?

He could deny it all he wanted, but it was obvious how he felt for you. Now knowing that he could trust you, he started hanging around you more often. And after a few more months, he became the one who’d invite you over.

“You know…you could just ask me out instead of staring at me all the time. I’d say yes.” You say from beside him, feeling his eyes on you as you sit side by side on the shrine steps.

“What?! I-” He groans, feeling stupid that he was so obvious. With a sigh, he looks away from you. “Then let’s date.” 

You didn’t expect him to actually go along with it. Who knew the man who had hated you so much would be secretly admiring you and finally have the guts to ask you out.

“Sure,” you shrug, feeling your own face heat up.

It would take some time to fully warm up, but dating was the first step, a large step from where you’d been with each other before.

Posted: 1/2/2024

[defectivevillain]

home where

pairing: Wally Darling/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar place. The only other occupant, a friendly man named Wally, seems to think it’s home. …You disagree.

word count: 1.5k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical derealization

author's notes: I know virtually nothing about Welcome Home and its characters. It seems really cool, but I just didn’t have enough energy to commit myself to another fandom when I first wrote this (and I still feel the same). Maybe I’ll come back to WH and do a deeper dive someday! Who knows. I certainly don’t.

On a related note, I’ve decided I want to do some sort of Halloween oneshot collection this October. I have quite a few drafts for various movies and series that I wrote up a few months ago in preparation for this Halloween… and when I stumbled upon this draft, I realized it would be a great way to kick things off. So yeah! I will admit, without shame, that many (if not all) of the works in this "collection" will be slightly unfinished (aka less detailed than I may want them to be). But I still wanted these fics posted, and I know that they’ll likely just rot in my docs forever otherwise.

Your eyes are stinging. You rub at them roughly, letting out a quiet sigh. It’s been a pretty long day. You stumble through your nighttime routine with a bit less finesse than usual, counting down the seconds until you can collapse into bed. When you finally get back to your room, you move to turn off the lights—only to realize you forgot to close your laptop. The screen’s vividness immediately sears into your eyelids. Blinking tears from your eyes, you close it and head back to your bed to go to sleep. 

Fortunately, you’re tired enough to find sleep rather easily. But even when your eyes slip shut, remnants of that bright light from moments ago burn through your vision. 

When you wake the next morning, sunlight stretches through the gaps in your curtains—illuminating your room in a dim glow. You blink several times to make your eyes feel less dry, before taking a deep breath and pushing yourself up to a sitting position. The bedspread is weirdly scratchy. You look down at it, entirely perplexed when you find a multi-color patchwork quilt instead of your normal comforter. You run a hand along it, trying to rationalize how you could’ve gone to sleep and woken up in a bed with different dressings. 

But your bedspread isn’t the only thing that’s changed—as you glance about the room, you realize that everything looks slightly different. The posters and photos adorning the walls are unusually colorful, and any harsh corners on your furniture have been smoothed over into neat curves. And as your hands investigate the quilt on your bed, you realize that you look strange too. The mirror on the wall casts a familiar reflection, but with softened edges and vivid coloring. Your clothes are far too bright than you remember them being—the same goes for your eyes. 

After a lot of exploring, you come to the unfortunate conclusion that your surroundings are drenched in technicolor. Even more surprising and inexplicable is the unshakeable fact that you’re not dreaming. Several hard pinches to the skin on your forearm cement that unfortunate reality. 

You step outside of your living space, only to find that the surrounding town is just as blindingly bright-colored. Vivid trees in neon colors surround the various buildings. With a churning stomach, you walk through the waving grass and desperately look for a clue to explain your unfamiliar surroundings. Some time later, you’ve explored the entire area—only to yield no new information. 

It’s only when you approach the outskirts of the humble town that you hear a voice. “Where are you going?”

You freeze. For a moment, you contemplate ignoring this new presence; then you realize this may be the only way for you to understand what’s going on. You turn around to find yourself staring at a man with yellow fleece skin and blue hair styled elegantly above his head. He wears a bright blue shirt and multi-colored pants. Looking at him makes your head spin. 

“I’m trying to go home,” You respond, watching as the sidewalk stretches into the distance. You shove your hands in your pockets to quell some of your restless energy. It doesn’t work as well as you’d like. 

“This is Home,” the newcomer frowns. He looks confused but sympathetic.

“My home, I mean,” you clarify. Surely, if this guy is a local, he should know you’re a stranger. You don’t belong here. 

“This is your home,” he insists. For a moment, his voice almost sounds forceful. “Our home!” He then chirps, as if attempting to distract you from his brief slip in composure.

You stare at him for a moment, unable to shake the strange feeling of foreboding running down your spine. “Who are you?” You finally relent and ask. 

“I’m Wally Darling,” he responds. “Who are you?” Wally peers at you curiously. 

You return his gaze, struggling to find an answer to the question. Who… are you? What’s your name? And, most importantly, why are you here?

You try to deflect. “Where is everyone?” You ask, looking around at the quiet town. It feels weirdly empty. There’s almost something… sinister about it: this cute little town, entirely vacant. How can something so colorful be so lifeless?

“They’re sleeping, I think.” Wally responds smoothly, breaking you out of your thoughts. You swear you see his smile falter for a second, but the expression vanishes just as quickly as it appeared. 

Adrenaline courses you at the thought of being trapped in this unfamiliar place with no one but this stranger for company. You try to take another step towards the forest, but it feels as if some invisible force is fighting against you. You’re then shoved backwards, colliding with Wally in the process. 

“Easy there,” he smiles, steadying you with hands on your shoulders. The gesture doesn’t reach his eyes. 

You nod and quickly excuse yourself from the conversation, citing your growing headache as justification. In your defense, you do have a rather painful headache growing to inhabit your temple and stretch through your cheekbones. Wally seems to sense that you’re telling the truth, because he just smiles and bids you good day, after one final remark welcoming you to the neighborhood. You continue to explore the town throughout the remainder of the day, despite the uncanny feeling of eyes on your back. 

As time passes, you start to notice that there’s a friendly sort of malice in the way Wally carries himself. He’s a bundle of contradictions: misery behind a paper-thin smile; glee behind a disparaging frown. He’s always lingering in the corner of your vision: when you’re getting up in the morning; when you’re taking a walk. He tells you virtually nothing about himself, yet he seems eager to learn anything and everything about you. You can’t help but be wary around him. 

But somehow, he wants to be friends with you. Wally’s idea of friendship seems to bleed into something far past platonic, though. He regularly makes remarks about how his life has changed for the better since your arrival; his eyes gleam with something close to envy when you talk about your friends outside this colorful town. You don’t want to overanalyze things, but then you notice the rapt attention he pays you when you speak. Then you notice the freshly trimmed flowers in the vase on your front porch—the one you’ve walked past every day without a second thought. 

Although Wally’s behavior is a bit puzzling, he dominates your thoughts for a different reason. Safe to say, he unnerves you sometimes. And you can’t shake the conviction that he’s hiding things from you. Sometimes he’ll look at the other houses with nostalgia in his eyes; he’ll reference people you’ve never heard of and then clam up when you ask about them. 

He greets you every morning, without fail. The first few times, you smile and wave back. But as time passes and you still can’t find a way out of this place, you start to ignore him. However, this behavior only seems to encourage Wally—as he begins to tag along on your morning walks. 

And it only takes you so long to break. After all, he’s the only other form of human (?) contact in this place. You need to talk to someone about something—anything—and Wally is your only choice. It’s only natural that you stop resisting. Not to mention, Wally is a superb listener. He’s almost too good at it. You get the feeling that he would let you talk for hours, content remaining silent and digesting all the information you give him. You’ve made sure not to reveal too many private details about your life—your real life, outside of this town—but Wally seems to know you anyway. He knows things about you that you’ve never told anyone; sometimes, he even references conversations you think you’ve had with friends over direct messages. 

Ultimately, it doesn’t take you long to come to the conclusion that Wally is the key to leaving this place. You’re not deluded enough to think he’ll let you leave, but you can’t deny that he knows more than he’s letting on. He is far from innocent in this whole affair. He must be pulling the strings from somewhere, somehow. You can only dismiss these thoughts as paranoid for so long, before the dots begin to connect and you’re faced with incontrovertible evidence of his malevolence.  

And while you relented and allowed Wally to join you on your morning walks, you never stepped foot inside his residence or took him up on his offers to spend more time together. 

At least, not until now, when you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Wally’s home with your heart racing in your chest. Despite the dread prickling along your skin, you extend a hand and ring the doorbell. You don’t understand what’s happening here, but you know one thing for certain: Wally is at the center of it. 

The door creaks open ominously. Wally stands in the doorway, an easy smile plastered across his face. You both know it isn’t genuine, and within moments, it starts to melt and slip off his face. A crooked grin shudders over his lips. “Hey, neighbor!” He says brightly. A thick tension descends across the space. A stiff breeze ruffles your clothes and sends chills down your arms. Wally’s dark eyes almost seem to engulf you; there’s a faint ringing sound echoing in your ears. “I’ve been expecting you.”

thanks for reading! <3

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[cozy2000]

i need to start raising money for actual psychiatric help.

sorry i keep doing this but im. going public with the fact that a free psychiatric screening (thanks to my doc!) told me i almost definitely have some form of OSDD(dont know which type but its encroaching on my everyday life either way), and to get psychiatric help without risking loss of my hrt im probably going to need to go out of network. either way i need some financial help to afford this and also be able to pay my financially controlling father and pay for gas and pay off credit card debt so i have good credit when i get away eventually

i havent been able to afford therapy for almost two years and i want to at the very fucking least do that

not really a goal in mind bc any goal i can think of has a very low chance of being reached (1.5k is my personal guess- not including the credit card debt) but anything helps. things are kind of getting worse real quick and its either this or i end up with another 20k bill from the psych ward

CA + VM: @cozicko

PP: zickocolin@gmail.com (has deadname)

[wizardofrozz]

hi, Rozz!!! from the kiss prompts, can I please request:

"i'm sorry, i had to." with Sawbones (simping uncontrollably for him tbh)

can’t wait to see how the mean one handles a first kiss 😅

Love It When You Hate Me

OC Sawbones x reader, Original Clone Troopers

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: mention of injury, Sawbones being an asshole. I think that's it lol

A/N: Thank you for the ask Sev 🖤 I get so unbelievably happy when anyone simps of Sawbones lmao I got a little carried away with this but I don't even care, it was worth it 😂

Before the war, you hadn’t traveled much, staying busy in the emergency wing of Coruscant General. Then Geonosis happened, millions of troopers materializing out of thin air to fight a war most people hadn’t even been expecting. That was how you ended up working for the GAR, traveling around the galaxy to lend your medical knowledge to the troops that needed it most. You had visited several medical centers and worked alongside combat medics across numerous battalions.  

The Ord Cestus Medical Center was your most recent assignment, offering an extra set of hands after a large influx of troopers came in. You smiled at the clone stretched out on the bed before you as you checked his vitals. You didn’t even know his name but it didn’t seem to matter to him. 

“Am I gonna make it, doc?” he asked, a smirk lifting the side of his mouth. The trooper’s arm was secured to his chest, his right shoulder still healing after being violently ripped from the socket. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, smiling when he laughed. It was a welcomed sound in a place so steeped in pain, meaning you noticed when it cut off abruptly. You checked for any sign that he was in pain but his expression gave nothing away; you followed his eyes across the room and held in a sigh. 

As a civilian, you hadn’t been sent into combat areas, making relief missions your most common assignment. Most of the time you spent with a battalion was fleeting but there was one that was an exception: the 104th battalion, the Wolfpack. General Plo Koon’s men still fought infantry battles but they also spent the most time rescuing other troops or offering aid to civilians. If it was by accident or due to a request from the general, you were called in, along with a few other civilians, to offer their medics a few extra hands. 

Now, seeing one of those medics, most notably the chief medical officer, wasn’t what you were expecting.

Sawbones looked just as stormy as ever despite the crutches he was hobbling around on. You had heard the stories, the things he’d done in the name of the Republic but your inner idealist wrote them off as exaggerations. Although, when he trooper beside you shifted uncomfortably, glancing at you, it made you wonder. You followed Sawbones’ journey across the room, letting your eyes linger when he stopped at another Wolfpack member’s bed. You huffed under your breath and turned back to the trooper you were treating, gently patting his arm. 

“Get some rest,” you ordered with a smile. The trooper flashed you a tense smile before shuffling down, stretching out on his bed. The next patient on your list was a few beds down, closer to where Sawbones was still lingering and you slowed your pace. You had your fair share of run-ins with the Wolfpack’s mean CMO and while his attitude made you want to steer clear of him, there was something about him that had your mind wandering back to him.

Sawbones was harsh on a good day but you had also witnessed a side to him that you’d almost consider...soft. He threw nasty comments around, scaring off anyone who dared get too close but he cared for his injured men with a gentle hand. You had a feeling his threats weren’t empty, but he wanted to help more than hurt, even if he had a funny way of showing it. 

Sawbones turned his head slightly as you neared your next patient. His beard was neatly trimmed and you could only remember seeing it long and unruly out on the field. Now that you thought about it, that was the first time you had seen him in anything but his armor; the starchy, gray scrubs made him look softer, less abrasive. You offered the trooper, Dodger, a smile as you approached his bed. It was hard to miss the anxiety lining his expression and you hoped the simple gesture helped a little bit. Dodger’s jaw flexed but he squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath in preparation. 

“How are you feeling, Dodger?” you asked, perching on the corner of his bed near his feet.

“Been better,” he mumbled, pointedly not looking at the hip-to-ankle cast he wore. You could feel eyes on your back and ignored the curious glances as you reached for his hand. Recovery was going to take some time but there was nothing unrepairable. 

“Enough babying them.” You jumped at the voice from over your shoulder, twisting around to find Sawbones leaning on his crutches, his face twisted in a scowl. “They’re soldiers, not children.” There was a tense silence as you just gaped at him, taken aback by the bitter edge to his voice. Endless, dark eyes bore into yours and it took you a second to shake off the shock.

“Excuse me?” Sawbones arched a brow before shifting his attention to Dodger over your shoulder.

“You live to fight another day. Congratulations,” Sawbones said, his tone flat and uninterested. Dodger blinked a few times before letting out a long, slow breath, and slumping down in his bed. 

“Uh, thank you, sir,” he murmured, nodding at the medic. Sawbones grunted before making a slow turn, heading back across the room and all you could do was stare after him. When you looked back at Dodger, there was a half-smile on his face that only grew when he caught the flabbergasted expression on your face. 

Then the anger started to build, swelling like an impending storm and you stood so fast you staggered. Dodger tried to get your attention but you were already stalking toward the door Sawbones disappeared through. Finding him was easy, seeing that he could only move so fast and you picked up your pace. You could only imagine the look on your face but it must’ve been ominous enough for any passing staff to step out of your way. 

You caught a glimpse of Sawbones disappearing into one of the smaller labs scattered around the medical center and hurried after him. There was one other clone sitting at one of the benches when you stepped inside, the pair turning to look at you. 

“Leave,” you ordered, stepping away from the door. The clone hesitated, glancing at Sawbones and it only made your anger spike. “Out.” Sawbones leaned against the workbench, taking some of the weight off his broken leg, his head turning to follow the other clone as he stomped out of the room.

“What?” he asked, arching a brow. 

“How dare you," you hissed, storming across the room, carelessly invading his personal space. “I am not one of your subordinates that you can talk down to. You had no right to step in like that.”

“And?” The unbothered air around him made you seethe; any crush you thought you might’ve had on him got shoved to the back of your mind. You ground your teeth together, taking another step closer.

“I don’t care what your problem is. I don’t care why you act like an asshole as if it’s your job but you will not treat me like some incompetent moof-milker.” You jabbed a finger into his chest, relishing in the quiet grunt he let out. “I’ve worked my ass off all my life and if you’re so emotionally constipated that my kindness bothers you, then I’d suggest sucking it the fuck up.” 

Sawbones blinked at you, his eyes flickering down to where your finger was still pressed into his chest; when his eyes lifted again they seemed shadowed and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. Suddenly, you felt your confidence withering as his expression darkened, his head tilting down, bringing your faces closer together. Just as you were about to take a step back, Sawbones surged forward, slanting his mouth against yours as he cradled the back of your head.

Your eyes widened comically but it didn’t deter him and before you knew it you were melting against him. His mustache tickled your skin and you found that you liked it, closing your fist, tugging him closer by his scrub top. Sawbones rumbled deep in his chest, parting your lips to slip his tongue into your mouth and you whined involuntarily.

It was just a kiss and yet it felt more erotic than any other kiss you’d shared with another person. The movement of his tongue was a mockery of what you desperately wished his hips were doing and it made you shiver. Sawbones broke the kiss so suddenly your head spun and you swayed closer, following his lips before you could catch yourself. 

“Sorry,” Sawbones panted, his hand sliding down to your neck, “I had to. I like it when you get mean.” 

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “You only speak one language: asshole.” It felt like a monumental accomplishment when Sawbones laughed; it was a sharp, harsh sound but it brought a smile to your face nonetheless.

“I speak another language too,” he murmured, bumping your noses together. 

“Yeah? What’s that?” You barely finished the sentence before he pulled you into another dizzying kiss. Yeah, you would happily speak this language too.

Ragu list:

@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @trixie2023 @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino @commander-sunshine @dukeoftheblackstar

[danses-with-dogmeat]

🦀👑for arcade gannon “hold still. this might sting a little.”🙏🙏🙏 congrats on 1.5k!!!!! u deserve every follower!!

Well, it doesn't get more perfect than this line/character matchup 😅 Definitely sounds like a doc, lol.

But ahh, thank you! I hope you enjoy this piece!

"Okay, just, ah, just one question, before I treat you and save your life and all that, um... What the hell were you thinking?"

Six looked down at the floor, embarrassment making their cheeks burn nearly as prevalently as the numerous bite wounds in their arm.

The area was obviously swollen now, the skin angry and stretched, the punctures each feeling like droplets of fire touching their exposed flesh.

It had only grown worse on the journey here.

"I don't know, Arcade, I... I wasn't thinking. Maybe."

The blond doctor's expression didn't change. Not even a flinch, not a breath, not a blink.

It was still demanding more from them.

"I didn't know what would be down there!" Six burst out, their good hand flailing expressively instead of pressing down on their injuries.

"It's a cave. In the middle of nowhere." Arcade began, pressing gauze to the-- now exposed-- cuts and bite-marks on their left forearm. "You heard rattling coming from inside."

"I thought it might be some settlers or something! I wasn't far outside Nipton, I thought maybe they were survivors..."

"Nightstalkers! They were nightstalkers. Anything that makes that sound is, inevitably, a half rattlesnake, half coyote hybrid that will bite," Arcade gestured heavily to their wounds, "and kill you with its venom."

Six's lip began to tremble at that, the emotion shining in their eyes going from shame to fear in less than a second.

"I didn't know... I had only seen them from far away before, so I..." They sniffled, their voice growing more uneven with each word.

Arcade's eyes widened as they snapped to his companion, panic sparking briefly in their depths before he spoke.

"Hey, hey, okay." He moved to help them sit down in the chair near the entrance to his tent. "No need for that, I-I wasn't finished with what I was saying."

Six sniffed again, eyes wide as they stared up at him hopefully from where they'd settled in the folding chair.

"It will kill you with it's venom, if I'm not here to treat it." Arcade was moving now, going through the drawers beside them and grabbing various medical tools and vials from within. "But, as luck would have it, I am here. And even though my bedside manner is less than sub-par..."

Six watched him work quickly, his voice shaky, but his expression focused as he filled a few different syringes with a pale, milky liquid.

"You're going to be alright. I'll make sure of that much, at least." His green eyes bore into them as he turned around, willing the statement into them with his uncharacteristically serious tone.

Six gulped, but still, they nodded to him.

Their arm shook in his grasp as Arcade moved to pull it towards him, a piece of wetted gauze in-hand.

"Now, you're going to have to hold still for me on this. It might sting a little."

Six took a deep breath, closed their eyes, and steadied their arm as best they could.

But he was right.

It stung like hell as he pressed the gauze to the wounds on their arm, and Six ground their teeth to bite back the shout of pain rising in their throat.

"Easy. Almost there."

His fingers rubbed over the burning skin, and Six felt it steadily begin to numb. Their eyes stayed shut firmly, but as the pain subsided, they were able to take another breath.

Arcade moved away from them briefly, but was back an instant later, and a slight pinching sensation was felt through the numbness. They hissed in response, but did as Arcade had requested. They kept their arm steady.

"One more oughta do it." They heard him say, and felt his breath spill over the un-numbed skin of their upper arm. "You're doing great, Six."

The courier let those words sit with them, a pang of appreciation for their friend and companion swelling in the depths of their chest. The feeling was distraction enough, that when they opened their eyes, Arcade had finished and was pulling the syringe away.

"I'm going to keep monitoring you over night, so don't think you can just dash off and throw yourself into another cave or chasm quite yet, okay?"

A laugh escaped them as their good hand reached for their numb forearm. The feeling still hadn't returned yet, and so, for now, they were free to feel more than the burning pain.

"You know," Six said quietly, watching as Arcade cleaned and put away the items he'd used to treat them. "What you said about your bedside manner wasn't really accurate, I think."

"No?" They heard the smirk in his voice.

"No. It's at least subpar."

The doctor snickered, his smile flashing as he turned to snatch the used gauze from the little table beside them.

"It's at least subpar, when it it comes to you. That's the difference."

Six returned his smile, that sense of gratitude rising again in their chest.

"Arcade, I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Yeah?" He raised a brow, "Well, don't get used to it. It's just the bedside manner talking."

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 6 "Job Gone Wrong"

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 5:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/730320896366149632/vagabonds-chapter-4?source=share

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Word Count: 1.5K

Background: Mad takes a job that's more than she bargained for. Hunter and Wrecker go shopping. Omega and Sil bond over shared experiences.

Warning: Fear, the "F" word, Star Wars swearing, droid prejudice, brief mention of medical experimentation on unwilling participants, brief conversation of abuse and PTSD, supporting character death by blaster.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap: If what the butcher back on Coruscant said was true, Tiggy was a hybrid between two Force sensitive breeds of canine: Vornskr hunting dog and wild Loth Wolf.  Seems her tail was docked to remove the venomous barb at the end and blunt any aggression.  Mad was concerned about any residual Vornskr aggression against Force users, but hoped the lofty Loth Wolf would dilute this.  Either Tiggy was going to be a great pet or a total disaster.  Mad was going to have to consult with Tech later to see if he had any knowledge or advice on the matter.  

She tiptoed toward the refresher to clean up and get ready for the next job...

"Job Gone Wrong"

Mad strolled across Ord Mantell and arrived at the meeting place for her next pick up.  She knocked 3 times on a non-descript door, waited for 2 knocks on the other side, then knocked 3 times again. 

When the door opened, an older bespectacled gentleman appeared.  He was short and wearing a clinician’s uniform.   

“Dr. Zebba?” Mad inquired. 

He nodded, “Mad?” 

“The one and only.” 

The doctor stepped aside and Mad entered. He seemed VERY nervous.  Not the best sign, but not totally out of the ordinary, as he didn’t seem like the type used to smuggling. “Come with me, please.” 

Mad rested a hand on her blaster...just in case. 

Dr. Zebba led her through a small entryway, then another door.  The room she stepped into was a clinic.  Rudimentary, but well kept.  The doctor walked over to a handheld cooler and lovingly caressed its top. A 2-1B med droid was busy cleaning and organizing the facility. Mad eyed it suspiciously. Its unemotive “face” and skeletal-like design was the furthest thing from providing comfort in her mind. 

“This is ‘Remedy’” Dr Zebba fondly motioned to the droid. “She’s been my assistant for quite a few cycles now.” 

Mad stood silently, hand still on her blaster, staring warily at the droid. 

“Remedy, meet Mad.” 

“Hello, Mad, pleased to meet your acquaintance.” A very calm electronic female voice emanated from the droid. It... she extended a metal hand in greeting. 

“NOPE!” Mad backed away from the meddroid with one hand up to block the greeting. The other now gripping the handle of her blaster. “Don’t touch me.” Mad’s hip firmly bumped into the table and jostled the cooler sitting on it. 

“Remedy is gentle, she would NEVER hurt anyone.” Dr Zebba looked slightly hurt by Mad’s reaction. The droid stood in place silently. 

“The Nomaadi have...a ’history’...as unwilling medical experiments, doc.” We are VERY wary of medical staff...and meddroids.” Mad was starting to sweat. “You can thank the fucking Kaminoan’s.” 

Dr Zebba was stunned by Mad’s very frank reply. An uncomfortable silence hung in the room for a few minutes. 

“Shall I step out for a while, Dr Zebba?” The meddroid politely inquired. 

“Yes, thank you Remedy.” He watched her exit the room, then cleared his throat. “Shall I brief you on this job?” 

“Go ahead.” Mad kept her eye on the door the droid exited from. 

“Well...as you know, the deal was to ferry humans across the galaxy. Unfortunately, the courier and the clone soldier sent to accompany her were...intercepted.  Instead of two individuals and this cargo...well, it’s just this cargo.” 

“Clone, huh? I don’t work for The Empire. Sorry.” 

“No worries.  I assure you this was and still is purely a mission for The Rebellion.”  The doctor seemed legitimate in his sincerity.  “Since we lost our courier, I am requesting that you carry it.  Otherwise, this mission will fail.  Several lives are hanging in the balance here.” 

“Oh?”   

“You will be compensated handsomely for the inconvenience.”  He pulled an extra case of credits out of drawer, setting it upon the table. 

Mad opened the case to see twice the number of credits that was quoted for the job. 

“When you deliver the cargo at its destination, another payment will be given to you.  We will supply you with any chain codes to ease your journey, of course.” 

“Ok, so what’s the catch?” Still eyeing the door and rubbing her bumped hip. 

“Please sit and I will explain the details.”  Dr. Zebba gestured to a chair. 

Mad sat down to hear what crazy plan would earn her more credits than she had the past 6 months of smuggling. 

Meanwhile, at the Marauder, Hunter emerged from the refresher.  Tech and Echo had already left for the antique parts junkyard.  Wrecker was snoozing in the pilot’s chair.  Hunter’s night with Mad played back in his head.  He looked forward to seeing her again tonight. Hunter wanted to get her something special.  No kriffing idea what, though. 

He wished he had asked Echo about such things.  Echo was good at choosing heartfelt gifts.  Tech perhaps might even suggest something unique and exotic.  Hunter glanced at Wrecker sleeping while tying up his hair in a clean bandana. 

This wooing a woman stuff was new territory for Hunter.  Especially such a vivid woman like Mad.  No simple trinket would do.  Something significant, with meaning, but maybe not too much.  He didn’t want to seem desperate.  Oh, but he was...desperately falling for Mad. 

“Wrecker, wake up” 

“Zzz...wha...whatchawant?” 

“I uh...need help.” Wrecker could see something was eating at Hunter.  “Have to make a stop at the Vendor’s Market.  Come with me.” 

“Oh?  Can’t be food, we just stocked up” Wrecker stretched, then peered mischievously at Hunter, then lowered his voice, “Oooh, it’s for Mad, isn’t it?” 

“Matter of fact, yes.” 

“You really got the hots for her!  Even more than that girl back in basic training...or that Twi’lek at 79’s... or...” 

Hunter chuckled and shook his head at Wrecker.  

“Never brought them gifts, though.” 

“No...” 

“Sure, I’ll help ya”  Wrecker grabbed Hunter and squeezed him tightly.  “Must be serious!”   

“Just don’t want to show up empty handed to the ‘Dame for dinner.” 

“Whatever you say” Wrecker chuckled and winked. 

Mad accepted the terms of the job. Dr Zebba was able to talk her into it if “The Droid” stayed in the other room. The extra money was going to be a boon as well.  Meeting at the extraction point sounded like it would be quick and easy.  

“Now remember what I said about...” a sudden explosion in the next room interrupted the doctor’s instructions. He dropped the bacta patch he was about to adhere to Mad’s hip. 

“WHAT THE KRIFF???” Mad jumped from the sudden loud noise. 

Dr. Zabba immediately grabbed the cooler, shoved it into Mad’s chest and yelled, “RUN!  No time, our security has been breached!”  And pushed her along frantically towards the back door to the clinic.  He opened the door which led out to an alleyway.  Another explosion in the room behind her and blaster fire.  As Mad crossed the threshold of the doorway, a heavy weight fell onto her back.  She stumbled, slammed into the ground, cooler flying out of her grasp and into the alley.  The wind was knocked out of Mad, with Dr. Zabba’s dead body sprawled across her legs.  Mad squawked in terror and struggled to shove his body aside.  She felt the adrenaline surge, kicked herself free, got up and started running. Pulled her blaster and squeezed off a few shots for good measure.  Mad grabbed the cooler and took off down the alley as fast as her legs could run.  Abdomen cramped with stress, she bit her lip and kept going.   

“Shitshitshitshit”  What the fuck was she going to do?  Who was pursuing her?  The Empire?  Mercenaries?  Bounty Hunters?  She had nowhere to go except the Beldame.  No backup plan, no alternative hiding spot.  This job was supposed to be simple. 

Mad ran blindly in the direction of her ship.  Crossed the vendor’s market, hoping to find cover and lose her pursuers.  Whomever was after her didn’t care about causing a scene as there were still active laser blasts and screams of people running away from danger. 

Hunter and Wrecker had successfully acquired a gift for mad, with time left over to sit in the vendor square and relax.  Their respite was short lived, however, as the sound of blaster fire and screams filled the air.  They both shot up to their feet and drew weapons.  Vendor tents caught fire and smoldered, filling the air with thick smoke and affecting visibility.  A crowd of vendors and patrons ran in all directions adding to the confusion. 

Hunter heard her voice before he even saw her.  Mad was still swearing to herself as she ran through the smoke.  A crazed exercise in self-soothing.   

“Mad!”  She heard Hunter’s voice and slid to a stop, quaking in place.  “Stay still, I’m coming to you!!!” 

She was enveloped in thick grey smoke. Voices, screams, and blaster fire coming from all directions. 

Mad was easy to find.  Hunter could smell sweat and fear, hear her frantic breathing.  Wrecker followed behind his brother. 

Hunter reached through the smoke and grabbed Mad’s hand.  She spun around wildly with abject terror on her face. 

“They’re after me.  It all went bad!” 

“You ain’t kiddin’!”  Wrecker quipped. 

“Who???”  Hunter implored. 

“I don’t know for sure.  Didn’t stay around long enough to find out!” 

“Let’s get out of here.  Wrecker, I'm taking Mad back to the Beldame and leaving.  You run to the Marauder and get off world with Echo and Tech. Comm them ahead to prepare the ship.  We can meet up later.  Hopefully this smokescreen will buy us some time!” 

“I’m on it!”  With that Wrecker was gone. 

“C’mon!”  Hunter and Mad took off towards the ‘Dame. 

“Where did she get this?” Omega marveled at the bobbling plasticine Rancor affixed to the ‘Dame's dashboard.   

She and Sil had been sitting in the cockpit conversing and watching Love levitate Tiggy.  The puppy was happily executing the doggy paddle through the ship.  It was an easy way to tire her out and restrict access to anything chewable. 

Omega bumped the Rancor to make it bobble again.  Mad had “modified” the toy so the Rancor was holding a severed doll head by the hair.  The head bore a certain likeness to Emperor Palpatine. 

“Mad picks up all sorts of odd things all over the galaxy.”  Remarked Sil.  “From traders, other Nomaadi, odd shops, even things cast aside on the street.  She’s got an eye for it.  Used to bring me and the family exotic and funny gifts when we met for Reunion...that was before I was taken away.” 

Uncomfortable silence for some time. 

“It’s ok.  Talk to him.” Love urged Omega telepathically. 

“I’m sorry they hurt you.” Omega hoped she wasn’t speaking out of turn.  But she could tell by Sil’s expression he was dealing with some heavy scars.  Love had Force spoke to Omega briefly about how they found Sil and that he had been missing for several years. 

He nodded and sighed.  What could he say?  There was so much.  Certain triggers: A tone of voice, a touch, certain body postures, even random noises.  Panic attacks during the day and nightmares after dark.  Physical and psychological scars from things done to him.  Sil was trying the best he could to heal and not be seen as a burden to others. 

“You’re NEVER a burden, Couzin” Love whispered in his head. 

Sil glanced over to Love.  He forgot that occasionally his Couzin could sense intense emotion and snippets of internal dialogue with individuals they emotionally bonded with. 

Omega proceeded carefully, “The Kaminoan’s...they would run tests on me.  Sometimes I didn’t want them to touch me, but I had no choice.  The first time I ever left Kamino was with my brothers.  The Kaminoan’s would have kept me locked up at the facility forever.  It took me a while to heal...not completely.  Not sure that’s possible.” 

Sil was quiet for several minutes, thinking about Omegas words.  She extended her hand and held it open.  Sil reached out, took it, and gave a little squeeze.  They smiled at each other. 

Behind them Love smiled. 

Tiggy, sensing the emotion in the room wagged her tail and continued to doggy paddle in levitation. 

The ‘Dames comm lit up with Mad’s voice, “Love...Sil...Hunter and I are en-route to the ship.  Start her up!  We need to leave Ord Mantell NOW!!!”  Laser fire and screams could be heard in the background of the transmission.   

Sil spun around in the pilot’s chair with wide eyes.  “Love, lower the gangplank and meet them there.  It sounds like they’re in trouble.  You might have to do “that thing” again...like on Coruscant.” 

“What ‘thing’???” Omega demanded to know exactly what. 

“No time!  Take Tiggy and belt into a seat!!!”  Love Force spoke inside Omega's head, handing her the pup, and running to the gangplank. 

Sil fired up the ‘Dame and kept it running.  He used the thrusters to turn its nose towards the city.  Smoke and fire came into view through the cockpit windows.  Ships around them were taking off and leaving in a hurry, more than usual.  Something big and emergent was happening. 

“What the kriff is going on???” 

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https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/734468366280065024/vagabonds-chapter-7?source=share

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 16

word count - 1.5k

warnings - none

Summary: Lina gets grilled by Penelope.

"That was insane, Penny! Just how many of the cases are like this?!" I ask, taking off my headset and setting it down.

Penny just grins and says, "A few too many, I'm afraid. Thankfully, we got it taken care of before a lot of people got hurt..." Taking off her headset, she stands up and collects her purse, saying, "C'mon, I'll drive you home..."

"Shouldn't we get started on the paperwork?" I ask, an unsure look on my face.

"Nah, we can come in tomorrow to get started on that. The agents will be doing most of that, anyway, since they were the ones going out and tracking the unsubs down," she says, digging her keys out as she hands me my purse.

"Oh, ok," I say, taking my purse and standing up.

As Penny and I walk towards the elevators, she says, "Now that the case has been dealt with..." and then smiles devilishly at me.

My head pulling back a little, I apprehensively ask, "What...what's that look for, Pen?"

"Told you I was gonna ask about it later...so how'd your little...coffee meet-up with Reid go?" she asks, ushering me into the elevator when it dings open.

"Oh, uh, ok, I guess? We didn't really get to hang out a whole lot, maybe, like, 5 minutes before we got the calls..." I say, leaning against the elevator walls. Penelope hums, and I ask, "What? What's that 'Hmm' for?" 

"Oh, nothing..." she says with a sweet smile.

"Pen, I know I'm still new, and I don't know everyone's 'tells'," I start, walking out of the elevator after the doors open again. "But yours might as well be on a billboard. Now tell me, what are your thoughts?" I ask, trying to catch up to her as she walks to the parking garage.

"Just...what do you think you and Boy Genius will do as a 'make-up hang out'?" she says, still smirking.

Flushing, I say, "I-I don't know, I guess I'm gonna have to ask him when I see him next..."

Unlocking her car doors, Penny asks, "Ah, ok, so, tomorrow, then?" I give her a questioning look, and she continues. "They're on the jet coming home now, they'll be back in for tomorrow morning." 

I nod, giving an, "Oh." in understanding. I climb in and secure my seat belt as Penny starts the car, lowering the volume on the radio before it can blast out whatever station she had on this morning.

I lean my head back and sigh as Penny drives, softly saying, "I am exhausted, and I was here in a chair. I can only imagine how tired the rest of them must be..." Penny nods in agreement. I look out the window, watching the city lights flicker on as we pass. We're almost to my apartment when I get a text message.

Probably Val, asking if I'm gonna have another late night at work, better let her know I'm on my way...

As I read the message, I quickly realized it was not my roommate who texted me, but Spencer. 

Hey, Lina. Hope I'm not interrupting you, but I wanted to ask if we're good for that raincheck on hanging out? Maybe we can try Saturday again?

I try to hide the goofy grin that crosses my face, but Penny notices. "Must be an awfully funny text there, chica..." she says with a smirk.

Flushing, I squeak out, "It-it isn't funny, Pen. Just...unexpected."

Nodding slightly, she hums out an, "Uh-huh...so what's the Mighty Professor gotta say?"

I whip my head to face her, and say, "How-how do you know it's Spencer, huh? Why couldn't it be, I dunno, someone sending me a cat picture or something?"

She snorts and laughs, saying, "My tells may be as big as a billboard, but yours might as well be in skywriting..." The light turns green, letting us continue on our way.

My lips bunched to one side, I sighed as I said, "Yeah, ok, it's Spencer. I have got to work on keeping my facial expressions to myself..."

At a stoplight, she turns to me and says, "Well? What did he say? Are you gonna answer him?"

"Oh!" I exclaim, typing out on my phone a reply. "Ye-yeah, I'm gonna answer him, gimmie a moment..."

Yeah, that'd be awesome, Doc. Did you want to try to do the same thing, or something else on Saturday? Are you home already?

After sending the text, I feel the car stop. I look up and see I'm home. I look over to Penny, and she says, "Well, hon, you're home. I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun texting tonight..." 

I snort, letting myself out and waving to her as I head up the steps to my apartment. As I make my way upstairs and unlock my apartment door, I feel my phone buzz again. Heading inside, I call out, "Val? I'm home, the case was resolved." I pull out my phone again as I close the door and take off my shoes and coat.

"Be right there!" she yells back from her room.

As I put down my purse and hung up my coat, I read the text Spencer sent.

No, I'm just getting off the jet, I should be home in a bit. I mean, we can get coffee again, but I was thinking we could maybe check out a bookstore or two? If that's ok, I know you mentioned that as a suggestion before?

Grinning, I answer him as I sit down on the couch.

That sounds amazing, Spence. Yes, absolutely! I've been meaning to get a few more books, too. 

Val pads into the living room, eyebrow raised. "Glad you're home at a more decent hour, there's some leftovers in the fridge." She sits down next to me and asks, "So, who ya texting?"

Clutching the phone to my chest, I look her up and down quickly, then say, "...Spencer."

She looks at me and says, "Mmm-hmm. Isn't he in Jersey right now?"

I smile and slide the phone back into my pocket, getting up to check the fridge. "Yeah, well, he said he just got back in Virginia, so he'll be home pretty soon." I look through the shelves, trying to find something. I pick up something in aluminum foil and turn to look at Val, raising my eyebrows as if to ask 'What even is this?' She just gives me a shrug, and I put it back in, figuring I'll deal with it later.

Val stretches out on the couch as I continue my search. She then asks, "So, uh, what's he asking you?"

"Oh, um, he...wanted to see if we wanted to try to hang out again this Saturday, since the first time we got called into a case," I say, finally deciding on some leftover pasta dish.

She hums in acknowledgment as I dump the food onto a plate and put it in the microwave. After setting the time, I turn to her and ask, "What?"

She shrugs and shakes her head, then says, "Nothing. I'm gonna head to bed early, g'night."

"Night, Vallie," I say, getting my food after the machine beeps. As I sit down on the couch again to eat, my phone chimes again.

Smiling, I check it and read the message.

Oh, really? Any in particular you were looking for?

Thinking for a moment, I quickly type out a reply and send it, a grin on my face as I finish eating dinner.

Kind of, I was hoping maybe you could help me look for some of the ones you suggested? If you don't mind, of course.

I take my empty dishes over to the sink, humming as I wash them. Drying off my hands, my phone goes off once more.

I don't mind at all! I look forward to Saturday.

Heading to my room, I sit on my bed and type out one more message.

It's been a while since I've gone on a good bookstore search, and I don't think I've ever been on one with someone. I can't wait!

  I change into some pjs and start getting ready for bed. As I brush my teeth, I get another text.

You know, I don't think I've ever done that either? Definitely something I eagerly await. Well, I better let you get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow, Lina. Goodnight. :-)

I grin and set my toothbrush down, sending one last text.

You should try to sleep, too. Goodnight, Spence. :-)

I finish brushing my teeth and head back into my room, slipping into bed, and drifting off to sleep.

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[n0bluev]

Somehow, im inspired to write that 'revision fic'. === (EDIT : u can skip but heres another snippet for u (3 separate bits that fit together nicely, actually haha) cuz hihi. THE AU: As i said, its a failed "3"rd regression context, where yjh is now in his "4"th round. The last memory he has of kdj is him dying, and to make things worse "In this round, that guy doesn't exist." is a thing, so yjh freaks out a bit but hes totally normal about this whole ordeal & the fact that he doesnt even remembers kdj's face now. Wdym! Hes fiiiiiine!

sorry lol back to the actual post : (,hope u enjoyed that little treat tho^^)) ===

!!THAT [Somehow, im inspired to write [...]] HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE!!. I always like. do an outline for the overall story and vibe, then flesh out the start or something and cook up a little 500 (probably unsatisfying) words for fun kind of as a bonus. Keep it mostly for my private enjoyment and move on before the story comes to life. And that's okay... Yes, it would be cooler to actually write the AU ideas i get in novel or comic form instead of having them stay at just the 'sketch' & 'idea/brainstorm' phase before i get another idea and leave them to dust up in the pile,,

But yeah, its okay.

In the few years since ive started getting ideas for more elaborate aus/fics, ive noticed that my ideas improved with time. (no shit, i know, but it makes me happy! i grew up!!! i can see it.) My planning methods are better too. So all of that unfinished or abandoned stuff is not at all useless work in my eyes. And who knows, maybe one day i'll bring them back.

--> as a plus, all my fandom brainrot experiences even get transferred into my OC stuff, and frl whenever i read my notes these days (or listen to my voice memos lol) and im just like "HOW DID I THINK OF THIS WOW" or "WHEN DID I PUT THIS LIKE THIS? IT WORKS!" (not to brag or anything but my oc lore goes hard ☝️)

BUT. NOW THIS IS UNEXPECTED.

I DID NO PLANNING. I just started writing for orv and its. Lowkey, good ???? Dont get me wrong i only have 1.5k right now and there are clear holes i have to fill and stuff but... CLEAR HOLES! CLEAR HOLES. Sure Im used to being like "something of the sort should go there..." BUT THIS TIME ITS "THIS SHOULD GO THERE, ILL WRITE IT LATER BUT THE IMAGE IS IN MY MIND, CLEAR AS WATER, AND ONCE I START PUTTING IT ON THE PAGE ISTG THOSE WORDS WILL STREAM OUT OF MY FINGERS AS IF IT WAS A NORMAL OCCURENCE FOR ME" ,,- !??? Yo!

Anyways. Point is that somehow theres interesting stuff going on in my gg doc and the more i write the more i know where i want to go, so that's cool, i feel all powerfull for once

idk if that ease is going to stay once im done with the first scenes (ughh!!! theres so much potential!!!!!!!!) but hopefully yes. either way ill probably post it so im not baiting yall with a "um actually im writing smt rn --- *never shares with the class*" --- either 1) things go well and i write a "real fic" (!? wtf that wasnt my plan!) --- or 2) i only post the finished version of what i have now (expect around 5k? (i have no idea actually)) and we wait together to see if i pick up the idea again haha. (i do wish to write it tho! im not a 'writer' writer but i want to be one, u get me?)

! thank u see u byebye