#they’re building his street credit

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

uk media hating on someone who hasn’t done anything bad and is loved by so many people. I’ve seen this film before.

Brits and Crocs deleting their anti-Louis tweets. Power to Louis and Louies.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Small Injury » Tyler Owens

Pairings: Boyfriend!Tyler Owens x Girlfriend!Reader with Kate and Javi

Summary: You get a minor injury from a tornado.

Warnings: Fluff, language, small injuries, blood, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

The wind was picking up quickly. Rain began to pour down. You, Tyler, Kate, and Javi managed to get everyone your guys saw to safety. While Tyler, Kate, and Javi were running to a building for safety, you seen a woman across the street with her dog. You ran over to her and helped her.

“Come with me!” You tell her.

The woman nodded frantically and held her dog for the life of her. You managed to get her and her dog in a nearby building with ease. As you were running back across to the building Tyler, Kate, and Javi are in, something sharp hit your hand. You didn’t bother checking your hand. You were too focused on finding somewhere safe to wait out the tornado.

“Where’s Y/N?!” Tyler asks, looking all over the place for you.

“I thought she was behind you!” Javi said.

Tyler looked around the room again, but couldn’t find you. He ran to the emergency exit door and opened it. He cautiously poked his head out of the building, looking for you.

“Y/N!” Tyler yells out for you.

You swore you faintly heard Tyler’s voice over the storm. You thought about running out of the alley you found to go to the building your boyfriend is in, but it’s too dangerous to at the moment. You found a place to wait out the tornado in an alley. You held onto a metal pole with all of your strength. Tyler was almost on full panic most. He was about to run out into the tornado to look for you, but Javi and Kate held him back.

“Are you fucking crazy?! You’re going to get hurt if you go out there!” Javi says.

“Y/N is out there somewhere and could possibly be hurt!” Tyler says on the verge of tears.

“I know you want to help her, Tyler. I’m sure she found somewhere safe to wait it out.” Kate says, trying to lighten up the mood.

“We’ll help you find her when it’s over.” Javi promises, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Tyler stared outside, knowing Javi and Kate are right. He closed the door with their help and found something to hold onto. The tornado pasted the building they’re in quickly. It then pasted the alley you’re in. Your breathing picked up. You never realized how scary tornados are up close.

After what it seemed like forever, the tornado finally pasted. Tyler got up from his place on the floor and ran out of the emergency exit door with Kate and Javi following behind him. Tyler looked everywhere for you with help from Javi and Kate. He felt himself about to panic again.

“Where is she?!” Tyler asks frantically.

You slowly let go of the metal pole you were holding onto during the tornado and cautiously poked your head out of the alley, making sure it’s safe to come out, in which it was. You walked out of the alley, looking around for Tyler, Kate, and Javi.

“Tyler, she’s over here!” Kate says from the right of you a few feet away.

Tyler looked over at you. He ran as fast as he could over to you, almost accidentally running into Kate. Tyler hugged you tightly, picking you up in the process. He let out a breath of relief.

“Where was she?” Javi asks Kate.

“I seen her come out of the alley.” She answers, pointing at the alley you were just in.

Your clothes were soaked from the rain, but you couldn’t care less. You were too happy and relieved to be in your boyfriend’s arms. Tyler gently put you back on your feet and kissed you passionately. Your hands grabbed onto his wet button up shirt, clutching the fabric in your hands tightly.

“I was so scared. I thought I lost you forever.” Tyler says, leaning his forehead against your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, feeling bad. “I saw a woman with a dog and helped them find safety.” You explained. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” You say apologetically.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, darling. You just trying to help someone.” He says.

Tyler caught a glimpse of your left hand, seeing blood on the back of it.

“You’re bleeding.” Tyler points out.

You let go of Tyler’s shirt to look at your hand.

“Oh.” Your eyes widened when you seen the blood on almost half of your hand. “I think something hit me. I don’t remember.” You say.

“Let’s get your hand cleaned up.” He says.

You nodded. Tyler wrapped his arm around your waist and you two walked to his truck. He opened the passenger’s door and you hopped in. Tyler leaned over you to get the travel sized first aid kit out of the center console. Kate and Javi walked up to the truck, seeing blood on your hand.

“Are you ok?” Kate asks with concern in her voice.

“Yes.” You nodded. “I cut my hand on something when I was trying to find safety from the tornado.” You tell her and Javi.

Tyler cleaned the excess blood off of your hand, revealing a cut that was small, but didn’t need stitches.

“I’m not a doctor, but you don’t need stitches.” Tyler says.

Tyler cleaned it the best he could before getting a bandaid out of the first aid kit.

“I want this one.” You say, pointing at a Captain America bandaid.

“Captain America, really?” Javi says with a small laugh.

“He’s cool!” You say, playfully narrowing your eyes at him.

“She has a point.” Kate says, agreeing with you.

“So you’re a Marvel fan, baby?” Tyler asks as he opens the bandaid.

“That’s all I watch when you’re out of town.” You say with a grin.

“You better keep an eye out, man.” Javi said. “Captain America might steal your cowgirl.” He jokingly says.

“Not on my watch.” Tyler says.

You and Kate couldn’t help but laugh when they said that. Tyler put the Captain America bandaid on your hand and kissed your hand over the bandaid. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Thank you, Ty.” You smiled up at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” You apologized again.

“I said you have nothing to apologize for.” He repeats his words from a short moment ago. “You were helping someone. Thats understandable. If our roles were reversed, I would’ve done the same thing.” He says.

You leaned forward and kissed Tyler sweetly.

“I love you so much, honey.” Tyler says against your lips.

“I love you more, cowboy.” You say, smiling against his lips.

Kate and Javi smiled at the cute boyfriend and girlfriend moment happening in front of them.

“How long are they going to kiss? They have to come up for air sometime.” Javi says.

Kate elbowed Javi’s arm to get him to shut up. He looked at her and glared at her as he rubbed the part of his arm she elbowed.

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” Tyler says, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” You looked deep in his eyes. “You guys too.” You say to Kate and Javi.

Kate and Javi put a comforting hand on your knees and smiled at you.

“Cowboy here wanted to run out in the tornado to look for you, but we held him back.” Javi tells you.

“I was worried and scared for my girlfriend!” Tyler exclaims.

You giggled softly and hopped out of the truck. You gave Tyler another hug and then gave Kate and Javi one.

“Don’t do that to us again.” Kate says, hugging you tightly.

“I won’t. I promise.” You say promisingly.

🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️

Glen Powell characters tag: @cevansbaby-dove

-Bucky’s Doll

[coquettetoji]

{ 🪩 } EREN JEAGER MOODBOARD

★ general eren hcs ★

— hot type of nerdy * defo majors in computer science

— my boy by billie eilish coded

— has hot hands ( the veiny kind with long fingers but his hands defo aren’t abnormally huge 💀 ¡ALSO WEARS RINGS! )

— probably smells like weed, mint gum, and expensive cologne. i’m thinking creed aventus with a woody type of scent

— has a silver chain, not gold obvi 👎 defo does the tiktok arm leaning against door frame chain dangling pose

— solid 6’2 maybe 6’3 depending on shoes and lean muscular

— emotion damaging fuck boy (takes ‘hurt people hurt people’ on a whole nother level but he’s hot so who cares?)

— drives a blacked out camaro with tinted windows bc uh

— doesn’t vape, but will always occasionally smoke weed

— gym bro with a sleeper build * bench is probably 265-270 and rubs it in armin’s face atleast once a week

— has 1 playlist because he listens to spotifys default made daily mixes 💀 ( daily mix 4 is always his go to )

— his actual playlist consists of the most overplayed main stream indie songs but then has rnb songs with 3k listens per month mainly from eren that lowk hit?

— mama’s boy and likes cats > dogs

— doberman boy

— has his snapchat in his insta bio with the ghost emoji next to it

— can play guitar and surprisingly well, favorite song to play is sparks by coldplay

— wears prescription clear frame glasses with the blue light lenses on them at night but wears contacts during the day

— all his $$$ comes from stocks, doesn’t have a job but is so smart when it comes to shit like that **defo has one of those metal credit cards that clink against tables 😏

— has dimples on his lower back and deep smile lines with that joker type of smile lol hot

— 3.8 gpa, math and science smart but not reading/english smart

— has a black phone with a clear case, black background, and his most used app is tiktok and messages

— wears street wear, wife beaters, baggy jeans, graphic tees, expensive sneakers, and cargos

— brown / green eyes, show more when they’re in the sun

— has a single diamond piercing on his right ear bc he’s slutty like that

{💌} new message from mica

hopefully this wasn’t a horrible first post bc i’m new to this whole thing, i’ll figure things out after a couple youtube tutorials >:)

i will gladly go emo for eren omfg he’s such a *moan*

SETTING THIS WHOLE BLOG UP SOON I PROMISE 😛

[steddieasitgoes]

he can't sit with us (or maybe he can?)

written for @steddie-week Day 4 prompt: Trade Rating: T | wc: 2651 | no cw thank you to @stevethehairington and @thefreakandthehair for beta-ing this one for me!! Read on ao3

Eddie is amped up. 

Lunch has always been his favorite part of the school day, but today is going to be an especially good one. Not because of his lunch — he forgot to grab the sandwich he made last night so he wouldn’t forget, and he’s been out of lunch credit for weeks now, so he’s shit out of luck on that front — but because today’s the day he unleashes his latest rant on the hivemind that is the Hawkins High student body. 

It’s taken him weeks to work out everything he wants to say about the giant mall they’re building a few blocks from Main Street that everyone and their workaholic fathers are excited about. The one that led to the demolishment of Hawkins' second-best trailer park — Forest Hills being the best, obviously. He even asked Wayne’s advice on what he should say since his uncle has way more experience going against The Man™ and The Man’s™ People. 

He’s pretty proud of what he’s come up with. Sure, it’s a typical Munson rant that goes on a personal tangent in the middle about how Sam Goody and Tape World are probably going to put Jet’s Jams out of music. And okay, yeah, Jet’s Jams is the fucking worst most of the time and only ever has the top 40s bullshit in stock, but at least Eddie has some pull with good ole’ Jet and can bargain with the dude to order a metal record or two every once in a while. You think Sam Goody is going to take his advice? Not a chance in hell!

But then he’ll get back on track and get into the educational stuff that Wayne talked to him about. At least, that’s the plan; all he has to do is stick to the bullet point list he scribbled out in Ms. O’Donnell’s class thirty minutes ago, ignoring whatever the fuck she was going on about at the front of the room. 

It’s going to be great. Definitely one of his best lunchtime soapbox speeches. Hell, maybe this will be the one to actually wake some of his peers up. Capitalism is the real devil here. Not him. 

He’s bouncing with adrenaline and nerves as he saunters into the crowded cafeteria, ready for his moment, ready for—

What the hell? 

Eddie stops midstride when he spots Gareth and Jeff waving at him from a table in the middle of the room. Again, what the hell? That’s not their table. Not even fucking close. 

Eddie doesn’t believe in the social hierarchy of high school cliques, but he does respect the lunch table distribution system Hawkins’ operates under. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that tables in the middle are destined for the so-called elite. Not his Dungeons & Dragons club and the other lost sheep stragglers he’s accumulated over his extended high school career.  

They’re supposed to be sitting at a table on the outskirts of the room. The one by the windows, with the art kids to his right and the drama kids to his left. The weirdo, outcast corner. 

And yet, there they are in the middle of the room at a table usually occupied by the so-called elites and anyone else they’ve deemed worthy of their company. 

“This isn’t our table,” Eddie says, slamming his hands down with enough force to knock Gareth’s brown paper bag over, taking his unopened Dr. Pepper can with it. 

Gareth scowls, righting the can. “Now I see why you’re a super senior. Of course, it’s not our fucking table!” 

Eddie intertwines his fingers before pillowing his chin against them. “Okay then, Gareth the Great, tell me why we are sitting here.” 

“Our table is occupied,” Jeff supplies. 

“Occupied? Everyone knows that’s our table! Is this person new? Have they recently had a lobotomy?” 

This time, it’s Freak who speaks up. “No. He knows. He probably just doesn’t give a shit. A table’s a table or whatever.” 

Or whatever? Fat chance. A table hasn’t ever been just a table in the hellscape that is Hawkins High. Still, Eddie can’t help but be curious. There aren’t many people who would willingly sit at a new table this late into the school year. It’s a ballsy move.

He figures it’s a scorned drama kid or drumline member — there’s always drama in those groups; someone is always fucking someone they shouldn’t be, horny assholes. But when he turns to get a glance at this intruder, it’s not a butthurt outcast taking up court at the table, but rather Hawkins' very own Fallen King, Steve Harrington. 

For the third time, what the hell? 

“Did you tell him it’s our table?” 

“No! He’s Steve Harrington! I don’t think he’ll appreciate a couple of nerds telling him to move.” 

“And we value our lives too much to mess with upperclassmen,” Gareth says, mumbling something about learning his lesson the last time he tried something stupid like that. 

Eddie rolls his eyes before scoffing loud enough to startle the nearby table of cheerleaders. He wiggles his fingers in an innocent wave before focusing his attention back on his friends. 

“Please, Steve is all bark and no bite. And he hasn’t been Steve Harrington in a while.” Eddie raises his voice several octaves, batting his eyelashes as he says Steve’s name. “Now he’s just Steve Harrington,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with a nonchalance he never would have expected to use for someone of Steve’s former status. “He’s just some guy whose girlfriend dumped him for an artsy loner.” 

“It doesn’t matter, man! You don’t mess with people like Harrington,” Jeff says, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s just like a one-time thing or something. It’s not like any of his friends are sitting with him. Maybe he’s just fighting with them.” 

Jeff has a point. Steve is alone. Sitting at the table all be himself, poking disinterestedly at an apple sauce cup. He’s not cowering or trying to make himself smaller like most people would do if they were stuck eating lunch alone, but he’s not making a show of it either. He’s just there. Minding his own business, staring out the windows Eddie has spent all five years of his high school career looking out off. 

“Those sounds like quitting words, Jefferson,” Eddie taunts, turning his attention back to the group. He makes a show of looking each and every Hellfire member in the eyes when he speaks again. “Are we quitters?” 

The entire table groans, a few shake their heads. Gareth, always the brave one, throws a chip at Eddie’s head that he manages to catch in his mouth. And people say he’s not athletic! 

“Since we’re not quitters, what should we do about this unlawful infiltration?” 

“I don’t know if it's an infiltration,” Freak says. “We just like traded tables without a verbal agreement.” 

“That’s worse than a seize!” 

“I don’t know, man. You’re the one that’s all fired up about it. Why don’t you go over there and ask Harrington to give it back to us.” 

“You know what,” Eddie says, pushing off the table until he’s standing. “I will.” 

With the same gravitas he entered the cafeteria with, Eddie saunters over to Steve. The sooner he gets this table thing handled, the sooner he can get on with his lunchtime diatribe — see Mr. Vance, I do listen in English class, old bat.

Eddie’s not a quiet walker by any means — he’s had enough pillows thrown at his head from Wayne for the way he stomps around the trailer in the mornings — but he manages to sneak up on Steve. Maybe it’s because his eyes are trained on a squirrel running up a tree in the distance, mumbling encouragements as the poor thing struggles to make it up. 

Huh, Harrington’s a squirrel fan? Who knew? 

Eddie’s watch chirps, a reminder that there are only ten minutes left of lunch. Jesus H. Christ! He’ll have to do an abridged version of his speech now, but it should still be enough to get his point across. That is if he manages to get Steve to trade tables with them without a fight. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Steve,” Eddie says, loud enough to startle Steve out of the squirrel watching. “What brings you to my humble abode?” 

Steve glances up at him with a look of disinterest he seems to have perfected in his fall from grace. And honestly, as much as Eddie hates to admit it and would never say it out loud unless he was being waterboarded or some shit, this new version of Steve really works for him. 

“Your humble what?” Steve asks, dropping his disinterest to look up confused instead. 

His brows pull together, scrunching up his forehead in a way that should be unflattering but is honestly sort of endearing. And his head is tilted to the side like a confused animal — something Eddie has a lot of experience with, given his unofficial status as a trailer park animal rescuer. Eddie’s so lost in studying Steve’s confusion that he forgets to actually respond, which like, is new territory for Eddie. He’s never one not to talk. 

“Look, man, I don’t know what you want, but could you just spit it out so I can go back to enjoying my lunch?”

Eddie’s personality returns to his body in an instant. “Enjoying your lunch, you say?” He takes a second to glance at Steve’s lunch tray. A measly bite has been taken out of the cardboard the school passes off as pizza. The side of congealed mac and cheese sits untouch and his apple sauce cup is open but still perfectly intact. “Doesn’t look like you ate at all, Steve.” 

“Seriously, Munson, what do you want?” 

Eddie tsks and yanks the seat next to Steve away from the table before not-so-gracefully falling into it. He kicks his feet up on the table a moment later, the toe of his boot knocking against the carton of milk he’s willing to bet Steve also hasn’t touched. Though he can’t really blame him for that one. Milk is not a lunchtime beverage, and no amount of dairy propaganda is ever going to change that. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Harrington, this is my table.” 

“I didn’t know the cafeteria had assigned seats.” 

“Bullshit, you didn’t,” Eddie growls, throwing his hands up in the air. The move forces him to lose his balance, chair wobbling on two legs under him, threatening to give out and dump him on his ass. Definitely not the lunchtime show he was hoping to give today. But before he meets his demise, Steve extends his hand, steadying the chair long enough for Eddie to drop his feet and reclaim his balance. “Thanks.” 

Steve grunts in response and goes back to staring out the window. 

Fucking squirrel. 

“Look, Steve,” Eddie says, getting straight to the point this time. “I don’t know why you decided to switch tables today or why you decided my table was the one you suddenly wanted, but can we please just switch back?” 

“I’m good here.” 

He tears his eyes away from the window for long enough to glance at his former table, where Gareth and Jeff are using straws as lightsabers without a care in the world. Steve snorts, and Eddie stiffens; he really, really doesn’t want to have to fight anyone today, but if Steve’s willing to be a dick about his friends in front of his face, well, fight, he will. But then Steve’s face softens, and he shakes his head in amusement. 

“Looks like your friends are good where they’re at, too. Though the lightsaber skills could use some work,” Steve teases. “Are we good then?”

“No, we’re not good!” Eddie shouts, trying his best to keep his brain on task. We’re here to get our table back, not ponder why Steve Harrington suddenly has a soft spot for nerds because what? “That’s your table, man, and this is ours. You’re going to upset the fragile balance of this place.” 

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me or something? I thought upsetting the balance was your life goal.” 

How dare Steve Harrington read him like that.

Since his dramatics haven’t worked, Eddie opts for the truth this time. “I have no interest in sitting in the middle of the damn cafeteria where everyone can see me and my friends just to cause a little societal unrest.” 

“And I have no interest in being forced to sit in the middle so everyone can stare at me while judging me and my mistakes.” 

Oh. 

The truth shouldn’t be all that shocking. Anyone who has eyes has witnessed Steve’s fall from King too well; Eddie’s not sure there is a word for what Steve is now. He’s not a pariah or an outcast, not smart enough to be a nerd, and the rumor is he quit basketball, so he’s not a jock. He’s just… lost? 

Steve groans, running a hand over his face for a second before his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?” 

“Uh, sure?” 

“Look, Eddie, I’m not going to trade tables with you, but if this one means that much to you, I don’t mind sharing.” 

“I thought you said you don’t want people staring at you?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Okay, well, sitting with the Freaks of Hawkins is definitely going to get people staring and talking, and honestly, you might even have to dodge a punch or two just for being in our vicinity.” 

“I’ll survive.” 

For the first time in his life, Eddie has no idea what to say. On one hand the idea of sharing a table is so preposterous he’s convinced he might be dreaming right now. But after a quick pinch to confirm that he is awake, he goes back to weighing his options. Sharing a table with Steve isn’t ideal, but sitting in the middle of the fucking cafeteria is a death sentence. He might be able to hold his own with the upper echelon of Hawkins High, but his ragtag group of friends isn’t so scrappy. 

And then there’s the lost sheep of it all. 

Eddie’s spent most of his high school career looking after lonely high schoolers. Whisking them under his wing, giving them a safe space to eat lunch or a club to hang out at after school to avoid having to walk back home alone. He thought he’d become somewhat of an expert at it, but it seems Steve Harrington has managed to slip through his cracks. 

Eddie would be the world’s biggest hypocrite if he didn’t at least try with Steve. It’s not like he has to join Hellfire or anything. All he’s really asking for his a spot at their lunch table. 

“I have one condition.” 

“Of course you do,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. 

“Actually, I have two.” Steve chuckles and motions for Eddie to get on with it already. “One, you can’t make fun of anything that happens at the table. We’re weird. You know it, we know it. We’re allowed to tease each other about it. You are not.” 

“I wouldn’t do that. Not anymore.” 

Eddie nods. “And two, you have to give me your dessert every day.” 

“Every day?” Steve balks. “You can have my applesauce and pudding cups, but I’m not giving you Friday’s chocolate cake.” 

“Guess you’re going to have to go back to sitting at the fishbowl table then.” 

Eddie watches as Steve considers this for a moment before his shoulders heave the world’s biggest sigh. “Fine.” 

Without warning, Eddie pushes away from the table, the legs of the chair screeching against the linoleum. His lips twitch at the corners, pulling into a genuine smile as he stands and offers Steve his hand. “Welcome to the Freak table, Steve.” 

[jinx-xxed]

Mission Gone Wrong

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; Coming back to retry this one after I abandoned the idea months ago :’) got some random motivation!! Also gonna preface this by saying I did in fact make up the first planet <3

Art credit to @/KasiopeaArt

Summary; Your mission for the resistance goes south, so you and Ben have to find a way to escape the First Order.

Content; Jedi/resistance AU, Ben Solo never turned AU, Jedi reader, Jedi Ben, running from the space cops, you get injured, Ben patches you up, saving two kids, Ben has the Solo Sass™️, piloting the Falcon :), Jedi rules be damned I’m gonna make them kiss, Ben’s family dynamic, Ben’s a mama’s boy, his parents love you, fun shenanigans, fluff

Wc; 7k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

“Stop! In the name of the First Order!”

The sun blazes above you, the sky a perfect blue with no clouds in sight—a contrast to the chaos happening below. The pound of your boots against cobblestone and the rapid beating of your heart fills your ears. Your breath comes in short, quick pants, your lungs burning as you try to suck in air while you run. The crowded streets of the Sandura trader outpost don’t make it easy. You dodge and weave between civilians, shouting excuse me’s and sorry’s every other second; you know that more than a few of them cuss you out in native tongues you don’t quite understand.

You spare a glance to your right, making sure that Ben is still keeping up. You’ve always been faster than him, more agile and lithe, so you have to be mindful that you don’t leave him behind. But you have no reason to worry because he’s right there with you, running just as quick from your pursuers. You can hear the heavy, plastic clanks of the Stormtrooper armor that slows them down as they chase after you. They’re too close for it to be comfortable but luckily the streets have too many civilians packed in them that they aren’t stupid enough to open fire.

Or so you’d think. With all of the commotion, people naturally move out of the way. They tuck into corners, squeeze under shop awnings, innocently clearing the path so they don’t get trampled. In doing so, they make you an easy target. You yelp as the first blaster shot is fired, wizzing right past your head and finding purchase in the corner of a building you run past.

“This is not how this was supposed to go!” Ben shouts, sweat trailing down the side of his face. His Jedi robes flutter behind him with his movements, both of your cloaks that were meant to conceal you long lost and forgotten.

“You think?!” You yell back, teeth gritting together from your annoyance. This mission was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be easy. You were just going to set up a fuel trade with one of the bosses stationed in the outpost, pick up some extra ship parts on the way since stocks are running low. You have those at least, they slam into your side with every step you take as the bag you carry jostles about. The fuel tanks on the other hand…

The boss you had been meeting with, Kaijat, turned out to be a slimy two-facer who sold you out to the ones who offered him more credits. That naturally happened to be the First Order, their desire to eradicate the Jedi and the Resistance knowing no bounds. You and Ben had barely escaped from Kaijat’s facility before Stormtroopers circled the whole place, trying to trap you inside and imprison you. Your lightsabers had come in handy. You cursed yourself over and over for not being able to tell Kaijat’s true intentions, for not being able to see how he was going to betray you. You’d made deals with him before, you thought it would be fine. You should’ve known better—nobody can be trusted for very long anymore, if at all.

You’re ripped from your thoughts by searing pain in your left arm, a choked and startled yell coming from your throat as your running falters. A blaster shot went clean through, cutting about an inch into your shoulder. The outer layers are automatically cauterized but the deeper layers begin to bleed generously, crimson running down your skin and staining the whites of your robes. There’s a feeling of worry that blossoms at the forefront of your mind, and you know that it’s Ben with the way he shouts your name. Your bond connects you in a way that allows you to feel what the other feels, see what the other sees. You reassure him through that bond that you’re fine. You’ve had worse.

You channel your pain to your fingertips, calling the Force to you as you abruptly stop and turn. You use the Force like a second set of hands, digging its fingers into the cobblestone and cement below you, ripping it up and curving it into a sort of wall to create an obstacle that’ll buy you more time. You’ve always been more attuned to the physical aspects of the Force, using the objects and earth around you to your advantage. Ben is much better with the psychological aspects, easily being able to see into the thoughts and feelings of anyone he desires. That’s why you make such a great pair.

You both keep running, not wasting a second of the time that distraction has given you. Though you don’t look back, you know the Stormtroopers are already squeezing around the wall you made. You can tell by the way their blasters keep firing.

“This way!” You say, grabbing Ben and making a sharp left. You skid against the ground from your speed, accidentally banging your injured shoulder into the wall and leaving a smear of blood. You try to ignore the wave of nausea.

The new path seems promising, perhaps even having a way out of the outpost. Until you see the wall ahead begin to close in and you curse more than a few times. “No, no, no! Shit!” You snap. You and Ben slow your pace, coming upon a dead end. A death sentence. You beat a fist against the brick like that’ll do anything while Ben runs his hands along it like there’s a secret button you’re missing that’ll magically open it up. There’s nobody else around, nowhere to hide. Nowhere to go. You look up, trying to calculate how difficult it’d be to just scale the damn thing. There’s barely any footholds so you’d most likely just slip and bust your ass. Your hand begins to reach towards your lightsaber as the sounds of the Stormtroopers get nearer.

“Hey! Jedi! Over here!” A voice whisper shouts to you. You whirl around, searching for it. Ben does the same. “Look down!”

You do what it says and see a manhole cover lifted up by tiny hands, an equally tiny face poking out from between the gap. It’s a child, a young girl. “Follow me! They won’t find you down here!” She urges. The shouts and footsteps are getting closer. “Come on!”

You don’t give yourself a second to hesitate, forcing Ben along with you. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t think this’ll make it any worse. You both jump down into the manhole, the kid then dragging the cover back to its original resting spot so that anyone above ground is none the wiser. Just in time too, because you hear the Stormtroopers just above you, entering into that alley you were trapped in seconds before.

Looking around, you’re surprised by what you see. Somebody’s made a comfy living space of underground tunnels, outfitted with mismatching furniture like couches and chairs and tables, scraps of rugs and carpet covering the stone floors, pieces of drapes and paper clippings glued to the walls. There’s cozy lights strung along the seams of the curved ceiling, bathing the tunnels in a warm glow.

“What is this?” Ben mutters, eyes going every which way just like yours.

“Welcome to the tunnels of Sandura! Or home, as we like to call it.” The little girl from before is in front of you now, a big smile on her face. She looks to be eight. Her brown hair is messy and sticks up in all different directions, her face has smears of soot on it that hides her freckles, and her abnormally green eyes shimmer with childlike mischief. Her clothes are torn at their edges, like they’ve been worn generously or found in a trash heap.

You lift a brow. “We?”

The girl turns to shout down the tunnels. “Shamar!” There’s a pause and then the sound of little footsteps before a boy appears, looking to be only a year or two younger than the girl. You can see in their faces how they’re related, same round cheeks and pointed ears and sloped eyes. Their differences lie in the boy’s black hair, though it’s just as messy as his sister’s, and in his blue eyes.

“This is Shamar, my younger brother. I’m Almae. We’ve been living in these tunnels for years.” She says it proudly. You can tell the boy is the more nervous one of the pair as he looks you and Ben over with scrutiny. He hangs farther back, letting his sister lead the charge.

“Where’s your parents?” You can’t help but ask. You don’t sense any other life forms within the tunnels save for some rats maybe, but no people.

“They’ve been gone for a while. It’s just us now.” Shamar says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Ben’s eyes narrow. He’s always so skeptical, you can feel his suspicion through your bond like it’s your own. “Why’d you save us?”

“We don’t like the First Order none, either. We know you Jedi folk, you go around the galaxy helping people and such.” Almae says, nodding to herself. “So we wanted to ask you to help us. We’ll take you through the tunnels and get you out of the city as long as you promise to take us back with ya.”

You’ll admit that’s not exactly what you expected. What you did expect was for them to ask for credits or ship parts they could resell, it’s what everybody’s after these days. That’s why you don’t like going on missions very much, you have a bad habit of coming back with empty pockets. At least when Ben joins you, he keeps that from happening.

“How do we know you’re not going to sell us out?” Ben demands, immediately going on the defensive from already being double-crossed once today.

You tug on his sleeve, pulling him to the side. “Ben, relax. They’re children.” You whisper.

“Children can still be convinced with the right amount of credits.” He retorts. “I’m trying to not get us captured.”

You roll your eyes. “I appreciate it, but read the two of them. Do they seem malicious to you?”

He hesitates, looking back at the siblings. You feel how his Force reaches out, roaming over their minds in a way that’ll leave them none the wiser. Through your bond, you’re able to get what he’s sensing. There’s no secret motive, no evil desire. It’s just hope, anticipation, and a desire for freedom, for something more than this. They just want out, they want to get away from the back-breaking jobs they had to take to scrape by, from the adults who yell at them for doing something wrong. They want to get away from always having to steal their next meal and living in the dark of the tunnels where they can’t see the sky. You feel a strong pang of sympathy in your chest, and you know Ben experiences the same.

You turn towards the kids, you crouch down to their level. Shamar shies away behind his sister, still eyeing you suspiciously. Good instincts on him. You hold out your pinky. “You pinky promise you’ll get us out of here?”

Almae grins, interlocking her little pinky with yours. “Pinky promise!”

“Alright,” you smile, “lead the way.”

Almae squeals. “Shamar! Go get your bag!” She tells her brother, shoving him towards one of the offshoot tunnels. Their bedroom, if you had to guess.

“I hope we don’t regret this.” Ben mutters once they’re gone, arms crossed over his chest.

“C’mon, they’re so cute.” You tease, nudging him. “How could we say no?” There’s a quirk of a smile from him and you know you’ve won. You always do.

Shamar and Almae come hurrying back a minute later, each with a heavy satchel slung over their shoulders. They’re full of any belongings they feel they can’t leave behind, like mementos from their parents, books, little trinkets and toys, and a few pairs of clothes. Everything else will stay behind in the tunnels, waiting for the next person to discover.

“Let’s go!” Almae says excitedly. You give her a nod, telling her to go ahead. She grabs her brothers hand and begins to walk, you and Ben following dutifully behind.

The further you get from the main living space, the darker it becomes. There’s the occasional overhead light or cracks in the foundation above luckily making your path more visible. The kids seem to know exactly where they’re going, probably traveling these tunnels hundreds of times over and using them to escape from the authorities trying to capture them for stealing. You admire their resourcefulness, even though kids shouldn’t have to live this way.

“How’s your arm?” Ben mutters to you after a while of walking in silence.

The pain had dulled, instead becoming a constant throbbing you could ignore. You’d basically forgotten about it. “I’m fine. I’ll patch it up when we get back to the Falcon.”

“Are you sure?” He presses. “I don’t want you passing out on me again.”

You groan. “That was only one time!” You laugh at the memory, even though it definitely wasn’t funny for Ben. You can tell by the way he scowls. It’d been an exploratory mission, scoping out a new planet and seeing what the resistance could make of it. You’d gotten yourself injured by one of the creatures inhabiting it and you’d brushed off your wounds until you’d passed out from blood loss. Ben had nearly had a heart attack, then having to drag your body over rough terrain and back to the ship. You’d done his chores back at Luke’s academy for a month to apologize. Besides that, he’s always been so concerned about you, acting like a mother hen with the way he frets. You certainly don’t do him any favors by constantly diving headfirst into danger. “I’m fine, I promise. You’ll be the first to know if I start feeling lightheaded.”

The siblings take a final left before Almae is shouting back at you because you’d fallen a bit behind. “We’re here! Come on, slow pokes!”

You hurry along, coming to a ladder that leads all the way up to another manhole cover. Almae climbs first with Ben right behind in case there’s danger above ground. Shamar follows, and you bring up the rear. The cover is shoved aside by Almae, the thing screeching in protest, and you have to squint your eyes as unfiltered sunlight pours in to the dark tunnels. The others climb out and you don’t hear any shouts of Stormtroopers or blasters going off so you assume it’s safe. Ben gives you a hand to help you and you gladly take it to relieve your bad arm of the strain.

Coming out of the tunnels, you immediately look around to get your bearings. It seems the path you followed brought you right to the outer border of the outpost, the wall of it standing tall directly behind you. In front of you stretches the lush jungle forest that makes Sandura what it is. The trees stretch to the skies, covered in moss and lichen, animals of all kinds roaming freely amongst the leaves above and underbrush below. Within that forest is where the Millennium Falcon waits for you, and that’s where you now head.

You and Ben take the lead this time, keeping the two kids between you to both protect them and keep an eye on them. You follow the invisible string of the Force that connects you to the Falcon, helping you find it within the massive jungle. You’d parked the ship far, far from the outpost, away from any sensors or prying eyes. It was common practice for people like you, to trek practically halfway across a planet because you couldn’t risk your ship being spotted. Especially something like Han Solo’s Falcon, just about everyone in the galaxy knew about that thing. The only reason Ben’s father had allowed you to use it today was the premise of getting in and out fast, something his ship was an expert in. Ben had sat through a multitude of rules and threats from Han, something that happened any time he was allowed to use his father’s ship. Ben swore up and down that Han loved the Falcon more than him, and sometimes you couldn’t help but think he’s right.

Honestly, you can’t blame Han either as you come upon the ship tucked into the forest. It really is a gorgeous piece of work; it looks at home between the vibrant greens of the bushes and trees. It’s huge, and the dappled sunlight reflects beautifully off its shiny silver exterior. Han takes such good care of it nowadays, showing it more attention as both of them have climbed in age. There’s not a scratch or dent on it, not a wire or panel out of place. You can’t recall how many conversations you’ve had with Han about the Millennium Falcon, how many hours you’ve spent talking and talking about all the intricacies of the ship—even when Ben would beg you to stop so he wouldn’t have to listen to his father drone on anymore. You’ve loved flight crafts ever since you were a child, there’s always something new to learn and they feel so powerful under your hands. You take to tinkering with your X-wing whenever you have free time, seeing what you can possibly improve and fix. You and Ben are some of the best pilots to come out of the Jedi academy, even rivaling Poe who’s more than happy to challenge either of you.

It seems Almae and Shamar share in your awe of the Falcon, both of their heads tilting all the way back to try and take in the whole thing. It’s impossible, you know that because you did the same when you were a kid seeing it for the first time. Even now in your late twenties, you’re still finding out new things about the ship.

“I didn’t know they were this big!” Almae exclaims, immediately running beneath the kickstands holding up the ship, twisting her body every which way in an attempt to look at it all with wide eyes.

“You’ll see much bigger ones when we get back to base.” Ben tells them, hitting the button to lower to ramp. “Come on.”

The siblings don’t hesitate to rush past him into the ship and you laugh as pure fear crosses over his face. “Don’t touch anything!” He shouts after them, hurrying the rest of the way inside. You follow behind, doing him a favor and shutting the ramp since he’s busy corralling two kids as they try to run this way and that. More laughter bubbles out of you and tears prick your eyes while you watch him, your poor, dear Ben so frazzled by a pair of children.

He finally gets them to sit down on the main couch that’s curved against the wall, then tightly securing the seatbelts over them so they can’t escape. Almae and Shamar pout. “That’s not going to work on me.” Ben tells them sternly. “I’m not risking my dad tearing me a new one because you two want to go exploring. Now just sit there and… I don’t know, play dejarik or something.” He clicks on the table in front of the couch, the holographic board game coming to life.

“You think they’ll know anything about that game? I can’t even understand it.” You mutter to him as you head towards the cockpit. The kids seem fascinated enough by the moving creatures at least.

“I know, it makes it very easy for me to beat you.” He says with a knowing smirk. You punch his shoulder.

There’s a familiar beeping and the sound of rolling metal as your droid, BB-3, comes from around the corner. You had left him behind in the ship both to avoid obvious suspicion and so that he could keep a robotic eye on it. “Hey buddy, you miss me?” You say affectionately, crouching down to run a hand along the top of his head. You love your droid, he’s been with you for years after you’d found him stuck in a garbage chute on some nowhere planet where he was going to be scrapped for parts. You cleaned him up and he’s never left your side since.

He notices the injury on your arm, one of his compartments opening to reveal the spare medical supplies you keep inside him in case of an emergency. You smile. “Aw, thanks bud but I’ll patch myself up in a bit. We need to get out of here first.” He beeps at you, rolling back and forth once.

He follows you to the cockpit where Ben’s already waiting, flipping switches and pressing buttons that have the Falcon roaring to life. You hear the kids shouts of excitement as everything powers on. “They’re fun.” You say with a laugh as you sink into the copilot’s chair.

“Uh huh.” Ben mutters. He grips the controls in his big hands, steadying the ship as it lifts off the ground. He keeps it low until you’re even farther from the outpost, not wanting to risk anything after you’d already been chased by Stormtroopers. They’ll be looking for you, for the Falcon. Once he thinks it’s safe, he brings the ship up, up, up into the atmosphere while you prepare the hyperdrive without him even having to ask. You’ve flown together enough times to know the sequence. You’ll jump to hyperspace in order to get away from Sandura, and then travel normally the rest of the way back to D’Qar in order to not blow all the fuel reserves.

You grip the chair under you as space around the viewport begins to blur, turning different shades of blue and white. You both get pushed back into your seats when the ship successfully makes the jump, speeding across the galaxy.

“What’s all that?”

You and Ben startle at the sound of the voice, turning to see Shamar peering at the control panel from between your chairs. “How did you- where’s your sister?” Ben demands, struggling to look at the kid and also keep his focus on controlling the Falcon.

Shamar shrugs. “I dunno, looking at some turret type thing.”

You and Ben both look at each other with wide, fearful eyes. The laser cannons. You’re out of your seat immediately, running across the ship and into the sectioned off compartment that houses the guns. Almae is indeed in there, about to touch the controls before you lift her by the armpits and yank her out of the chair. She yells in protest, thrashing her arms about. She manages to wheel back a fist that smacks your open wound, making you hiss and nearly drop her from the wave of nausea and pain you get. You set her roughly on the ground, your free hand coming up to clasp your injury as you wince. You feel fresh blood on your palm.

Almae instantly stops, body language changing as guilt sweeps over her. “I’m.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. You- you just startled me is all. I just wanted to look around.” Her eyes are so big, so scared. “Please don’t take us back! I didn’t mean to hit ya, I swear!”

You can practically taste her fear on your tongue from how much it swells, how obvious it is across the Force. She truly thinks you’d take her and her brother back to Sandura and turn them in, leave them to sit in a jail all over again. You sigh, using your breathing to get past the pain. You guide her back to the main room where Sharma is waiting, sitting her down on the couch. She’s crying, small body shuttering as she sniffles.

“Hey, hey, listen to me.” You say softly, trying to get that strong girl you saw before to come back. She seems to calm a bit when she realizes you’re not angry, finally meeting your gaze. “It’s okay. But we told you not to move from these seats, that was for your own safety and ours. If you messed with something you shouldn’t have, it could’ve gotten us detected by the First Order or messed with the ship. We brought you both here to help you so we expect you to respect us and follow the rules we give you, alright?” You’re honest with her, but not cruel. You know that’s what children need to be able to understand, and Almae seems to get it. She nods, wiping stubbornly at her tears with a fist.

“M’sorry.” She mumbles. “I really didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay, Almae. You’re not in trouble. We’re not going to take you back.” You say, putting a comforting hand on her head. Besides, doing that would only get your own selves arrested. “You’ll get a tour of the Falcon sometime later, I promise.” She perks up at the sound of that, nodding. You buckle her and her brother in a second time and they seem like they won’t be making any moves to escape again.

BB-3 beeps at you when you turn around, concerned by the new blood on your arm. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You mutter, going to plop yourself onto one of the bunks built into the wall, a heavy sigh leaving you. It’s time to finally patch yourself up, you suppose. The Falcon shudders as it comes out of hyperspace and you feel some tension release from your muscles. You’re grateful nothing decided to chase after you from Sandura.

You take one of the med kits and settle it next to you, popping it open and grabbing what you’ll need. Wipes, anti-bacterial, gauze. From BB-3 you take your small canister of bacta, something you keep hidden because of how precious it is. You begin to try and clean yourself of your blood, finding it a little difficult because of the angle. You run through more than a few wipes, leaving them stained red and scattered around you.

You’re about to try and apply the anti-bacterial before a large, warm hand encompasses yours. You look up to see Ben leaning over you, your eyes meeting. “Let me do it.” He says softly. Your faces are so close you can’t help but reach forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, making him smile. You always love his smile, the way his dimples show.

“I can handle it, Ben.” You say with a good-natured huff. “Don’t you have to go pilot?”

“It’s on auto. You’ve always sucked at bandaging injuries, just let me.” He insists. You roll your eyes, slapping the anti-bacterial into his waiting, open palm. Amusement twinkles in his eyes because he knows you always end up giving in. It’s true, you do suck at bandaging injuries because your hands aren’t careful enough for it, nor are you meticulous enough. You only are when it comes to a ship, something you can’t kill. Ben has always been more of the medic between the two of you—he has to be with the way you are—always taking such care when it comes to you.

He sits next to you on the bunk, making you scoot over to accommodate his huge frame. When cleaning your wound, he becomes so concentrated, his brows furrowing in the way you like with a slight crease to the side of his mouth. You wince as the anti-bacterial stings and he mutters out an apology, too focused for anything else. You know he’ll give you plenty of kisses for it later though, he always does. Ben coats the strips of gauze in bacta and then wraps them around your arm, not too tight and not too loose. Perfect, just like his dressings always are.

As you suspected, he takes you into his arms and kisses you plenty once he’s done. Your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He’s generous in his attention and love, the happy and gentle emotions filtering through your bond to match. It has you smiling like an idiot. When he’s satisfied, he lays back in the bunk, sitting against the wall with you between his legs. That’s when it hits you both, how tired you are. All the fighting and running, all the stress and anger, and now bringing along two kids. You look over and find the siblings asleep in their seats, heads lolling to the side. You want to follow them, want to just fall asleep in Ben’s lap. He’s so warm, and his robes are so comfortable. Easy to wrap yourself in and ignore the outside world.

But you know you can’t, you have to stay alert in case something happens, and Ben will have to get back to piloting soon. So you settle for sitting there and enjoying the way he holds you, because that’s always been more than enough.

» ☆ «

You must’ve dozed off despite your efforts because when your eyes are opening again, Ben is gone and you can feel that the Falcon is being lowered to the ground with the way it shakes and the sounds of it powering down. You sit up with a small grumble, wiping sleep from your eyes. Your legs ache in protest when you stand, exhaustion still weighing heavy on your body.

Almae and Shamar are up now too, shaking in their seats from excitement. Ben appears from the cockpit, having successfully parked and turned off the ship. He comes over to you, brushing some of your tussled hair from your forehead. “Did you sleep well?” He teases. You have half the mind to punch him again.

You settle for sticking your tongue out instead, then brushing past him to release the kids. You unbuckle their seatbelts and they immediately jump off the couch, clutching their bags against themselves. “I want you two to stick close to me, okay? There’s going to be a lot of new people and things to see. I don’t want you to get lost.” You say, holding your hands out so the kids take them. You’re glad when they oblige you, their tiny hands fitting snugly into yours.

Ben leads the way, once again pressing that button to release the ramp hatch. As it lowers, bright sunlight filters in and the fresh, damp air of D’Qar fills your nostrils.

There’s a crowd of people waiting when you exit the ship—resistance pilots welcoming you back, engineers already inspecting for repairs, captains and generals waiting for reports. It’s nothing unusual, it’s something that happens just about every time you two make a return. The rebellion hold the Jedi in such high regard that they always have to get some sort of glimpse of you, to see what you’ve been able to accomplish. You were right in taking Almae and Shamar’s hands because you can feel the way they startle and tense, too many sights and sounds coming at them. They shy away from the crowd, instead trying to hide behind you and BB-3 where it’s safe.

People begin to disperse within the minute, most having seen what they needed to see—that the two Jedi made it back alive. The rest of them part when the general comes through, her familiar gold-plated companion right behind her. Ben’s attention immediately shifts, and you smile knowingly.

“Welcome home, son.” Leia says fondly, having to reach up to cup Ben’s cheek in a weathered hand even after he tries to lean down for her. She tucks a strand of his black hair behind his big ears out of habit, even though he hates it. He’s always been self conscious about his ears despite how much you love them.

He huffs. “Thanks, mom.”

She chuckles, looking around him to greet you as well. You dip your head towards her with respect. “So, how did things go?” She asks.

You wince. “Well…”

“Kaijat betrayed us. He sold us out to the First Order, we almost got captured.” Ben’s words are blunt, his expression stony. He always gets that way when giving a mission report; he learned from his mother.

Leia curses under her breath. She seems troubled for only a moment before it disappears, a sigh leaving her. She’s always so put together, something you’ve admired about her ever since you were a kid. “There goes that, then. Did you manage to get anything? Were either of you hurt? Were you followed?”

“I got some of the ship repair parts you were wanting.” You say, motioning to the satchel you have slung over your shoulder. “I got shot in the arm, but it’s nothing too bad. Ben patched me up, of course.” Leia nods along with that, a twinkle in her eye, knowing exactly how her son takes care of you.

“And no, we weren’t followed. It’s all thanks to these two that we were able to escape.” You pull the siblings out from behind you, then holding them against you so they don’t scamper off. “It’s okay, guys. This is Leia, Ben’s mom and the leader of the resistance. She’s a powerful lady.”

Leia smiles, immediately softening. “And who are you?” She asks, trying to meet their eye level as best she can.

The kids are clearly too stunned to speak, making you laugh. It’s a big difference from how they were when you first met them. “C’mon, it’s alright. Introduce yourselves.” You whisper.

“I- I’m Almae and… and this is Shamar, my little brother.” Almae says, swallowing down her fear.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Almae.” Leia says, holding out a hand for her to shake. Almae hesitates for just a second before breaking into a smile and taking the hand. Leia does the same for her brother. “And Shamar. Now tell me, how’d you save these two delinquents of mine?” Ben rolls his eyes.

“We lived in the tunnels at Sandura, ya see, and the First Order had been there for a while. We don’t like them none, they’re all hoity toity and mean. They almost got us a few times when we were trying to get food.” Almae says, more than happy to launch into a story. She becomes much more open and expressive as she talks. “So we hear all this commotion above us one mornin’, all this shoutin’ and stompin’. I go to try and see what it is and it’s a pair of Jedi! They were running from the Order so I figured I’d help ‘em escape when they got stuck. We went through the tunnels and those stupid Troopers had no idea. Then the nice lady let us on the big ship. The big guy was kinda mean though.”

Ben glowers. “Why you-“

You smack a hand against his chest and he grumbles, crossing his arms. Leia laughs. “Well, aren’t you two brave? I have to thank you for saving the both of them. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to them.” She says earnestly. There’s a warm feeling that builds in your chest from her words, and you know Ben experiences the same. “I think you’ll fit right in here.”

“Really? We get to stay?” Sharma says, big eyes hopeful.

“Of course you do. We have a place for children just like you where it’s safe. C-3PO, give them a little tour of the place, will you? I’ll come find you in a bit.” Leia says, turning to the droid who’d been happily engaging in some type of conversation with BB-3.

“Oh, certainly general.” He teeters forward on his stiff legs, waving his arms at the kids. Almae looks overjoyed. You can already tell she has the heart of a mechanic in her, just like you. “Pleasure to meet you, I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. Please, follow me this way.”

The kids seem hesitant, instinctively looking back at you. You smile. “Go on. It’s safe here, everyone’s a friend. Just make sure to stay with the droid so you don’t get lost, okay?” You lean in to whisper, “and ask him stupid questions. He loves those.” The siblings grin impishly at you.

“You’ll come visit us, won’t you?” Shamar asks, tugging on the hem of your robes.

“Yeah, of course we will. Once you get all settled.” You promise, patting him on the back. You watch as they hurry to catch up to C-3PO; it wasn’t too hard, he doesn’t move all that fast.

“They’ll have to be transferred to one of our more remote civilization bases. This one is too dangerous and open to have children on it.” Leia says once they’re gone, both hands resting on her cane.

You sigh. “I figured. I just didn’t have the heart to tell them.” Ben’s hand finds yours, a small comfort.

“There you are!”

All three of you jolt at the sound of Han’s voice as he comes up to you with long strides, Chewie right behind him. “I was wondering when you’d come back with her.” He says to Ben, meaning the Millennium Falcon. “No issues with her, right?”

Ben sighs, automatically knowing what his father would say to him. “No, dad. Nothing happened to your precious ship.”

Han nods. “Good. Chewie and I are gonna head out for a bit. We’ll keep in touch.”

“Sure you will.” Leia mutters.

Han is about to walk up the ramp past you when he stops. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, Han.”

“How ya been?”

You shrug. “I’ve been alright. Doing the usual.”

He nods again. “Good to hear. I’ll see ya later.” He points at Ben. “Keep that boy out of trouble.”

You can’t help the small smile on your face. Ben’s parents accepted the fact that you two were inseparable a long time ago, and they know you don’t really go anywhere without the other. Not if you can help it, at least. “I will, Han.”

When Chewie walks by, he ruffles both you and Ben’s hair with a big, furry paw—his own way of saying hello. You laugh while Ben groans, immediately trying to fix the mess. Then Chewie and Han are gone, disappearing into the Falcon and getting it powered up. That’s typically how your interactions with Ben’s father and his companion go, always short and sweet because Han is always on his way to do something, to go annoy someone in some part of the galaxy.

Leia just shakes her head. When she moves past you, she puts a gentle hand against your bandaged wound. “I want you to go see the medic when you can, dear.”

“I will, Mrs. Organa, don’t worry.” You reassure her. “Ben won’t leave me alone until I do.” She seems satisfied with that.

“Oh, and Luke wants you two to contact him within the next few days. He may ask for your return to Ossus. I believe he has some things to discuss, but it didn’t seem like there was a big rush.” She says. You and Ben share a look, wondering what your Master would have to say. You’re both too exhausted to care about it right now though. “I’ll leave you both to it. But do stop by tomorrow morning to give a full report, hm?”

“Sure, mom. We’ll see you then.” Ben says, generously leaning down again so Leia could give him a little peck on the cheek and hold him close.

She takes a few extra seconds than necessary, Ben beginning to squirm in her grasp. She sighs after finally letting him go. “I’m glad you both made it back safely. I didn’t realize how dangerous things have become. We may have to rethink how we go about negotiations so this doesn’t happen again.”

“We’ll figure it out, we always do.” You try to reassure her, even though you’re feeling doubtful yourself. The First Order is expanding, taking more planets, spreading their control.

Leia hums in agreement, trying to keep up some semblance of optimism. “I’ll have to speak to Luke, he needs to make his move. That means you both will need to be on alert.” She says, tone heavy. She waves a hand suddenly, shaking her head. “We’ll worry about it tomorrow, you two don’t need to listen to me trying to figure out a war right now. Go rest up. I need to make sure C-3PO and those kids didn’t get into any trouble.”

“Good idea.” Ben mutters, knowing those kids are probably trying to get into all kinds of mischief.

With a final goodbye, you two and Leia are going your separate ways. You stretch your arms above your head, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin. “Now let’s go get something to eat, please, my stomach is digesting itself. I hope they still have some of those sandwiches I like.” You say, practically drooling at the thought of those tasty sandwiches they serve in the cafeteria.

Ben scoffs. “This late in the afternoon? You’re dreaming.”

“Don’t ruin it for me.” You groan.

Even without the sandwiches, as long as you get some type of decent food, you’ll be okay. As long as Ben is with you, you’ll be okay. You know that you’ll both grab a meal together, you’ll sit side by side, never seperated. You know that when you’re done, you’ll both find somewhere quiet, preferably bathed in sunlight, you’ll curl up together looking like two puzzle pieces, and you’ll sleep for as long as you want. Because it’s what you always do, and because you earned it.

[anonymous-dentist]

From the Doctor Who au I keep meaning to write:

-

Roier’s husband disappeared into the midst of the Time War just over 350 years ago.

Today, Cellbit wants to meet Jack the Ripper, so he and Roier are pushing their ways through the foggy, smelly London streets, and it’s fine. It’s just Jack the Ripper, it’s fine. It’s the British, it’s fine.

Roier can take care of himself. He’s a veteran! He’s one of the few Time Lords to actually have made it out of the war with more than one regeneration cycle to spare.

But Cellbit? He might have a very solid build and some very nice biceps, but he’s also kind of a nerd. He claims to be able to take care of himself in a fight, but Roier’s been the one saving him from all the aliens (and humans) he’s been pissing off, sooooo…

“We could have gone to the beach,” Roier grumbles.

“The beach is boring,” Cellbit huffs. “Jack the Ripper isn’t at the beach.”

“You don’t know that. Nobody knows who that guy is.”

“Not yet.”

Because that’s what they’re here: Cellbit- strange, beautiful Cellbit- has decided that he’s going to solve the mystery of who Jack the Ripper is even though, really, it doesn’t even matter.

(But what else is new?)

Roier rolls his eyes.

Once upon a time, his husband went by the title of ‘the Captain’. He was a police captain in one of Gallifrey’s smaller towns, and his sister worked by his side as the Detective.

Cellbit is a conspiracy theorist who throws bricks at police cars and criticizes serial killers not because they’re evil but because their “knife techniques” are “wrong”.

The irony is not lost on Roier, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Cellbit, despite having an entire time machine at his disposal now, wants to find Jack the Ripper, and he wants to kick him in the balls and throw him into the Thames and watch him drown.

Roier agrees. Fuck that guy.

“Fuck that guy,” Roier declares.

Cellbit nods in agreement. “Fuck him. He had so much potential.”

Roier blinks. “What?”

“Uh, I mean. He had so much potential… to get arrested and die in jail?”

Uh-huh, sure.

Roier rolls his eyes. “I think they still do public executions here, actually.”

“What, don’t you know? Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of alien super genius?”

Cellbit’s smile is sharp as a knife. (He’s soooo proud of himself. Dumbass.)

He elbows Roier in the side.

Roier elbows him back. “Not everybody can be an ‘alien super genius’. Some of us are just guys who slept through Earth Class in school.”

Cellbit shoots him a look, his smile and eyes softening disgustingly.

“Don’t sell yourself short, man,” he says. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

He goes quiet for a second before quickly adding on: “Especially compared to us humans!”

He coughs into his fist and looks to the side, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

Oh, Cellbit…

Roier elbows Cellbit again. “Hey, be nice to humans! They can be smart as hell sometimes!”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Cellbit says, still turned away. “We can be really dumb sometimes, though. Like, with cars. And TikTok.”

“Fuck you, I love TikTok!”

“You would.”

Mildly outraged and somewhat offended, Roier gasps, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just that you look like a TikTok guy.”

“What happened to calling me a genius?”

Cellbit bites back a laugh, not answering. Asshole.

Pouting only a little, Roier crosses his arms and kicks a pebble and tries not to step in a river of alcohol and mud going down the side of the street. Ewwwww….

Once upon a time, Roier used to go on trips with his Captain all the time. They’d hop into the Captain’s TARDIS and set the destination to random and go on at least a dozen dates a week. They’d hold hands walking down the streets, and they would kiss quite literally whenever possible.

Cellbit doesn’t hold Roier’s hand. Their fingers brush, but that’s it.

(Roier misses him so bad…)

Roier’s wedding ring feels so cold. He can only imagine how freezing the chain necklace around Cellbit’s neck is.

But they keep walking, and they keep talking, and Roier can almost pretend it’s the same as it was before the war. He wasn’t on the last of his set of 12 lives, his husband wasn’t… a fucking idiot.

Cellbit trips over a loose paving stone and almost falls, but Roier catches him by the arm and pulls him back upright- their first real physical contact since Roier picked Cellbit up for that first trip away from Earth.

Just for a second, Cellbit looks like he’s going to break. His eyes water, and his mouth thins, and his lip threatens to start wobbling pathetically.

But he pulls himself together, and he pulls his arm away.

“Thank you,” he quietly says.

He holds his body close to himself and looks anywhere but at Roier.

Roier sighs, but he smiles, anyway. Of course he does. He’s Cellbit, how could Roier not smile at him?

(This, at least, has stayed the same.)

___

If you liked this little excerpt, please reblog and comment/ask/Whatever! It really does mean a lot to me, and it lets me know that people want to read more!!

[menofchaos]

Coco

Note: Third time I'm trying to send this out! I missed sleep to write this, which usually means it'll end up being one of my favorites like the Vegas story. I do have more of this written, so please let me know if anyone would be interested! This is the first installment of Coco x museum! reader. Picture credit goes to @richardcabralofficial on ig & divider credit goes to @spideyspeaches. Enjoy!

Coco lit a cigarette as he walked down the sunny streets of downtown San Diego, Angel and Gilly planning their evening of bar hopping. They decided to head down to the beach for a long weekend, a getaway from the pressures of Santo Padre.

“Damn, that’s a big ass building.”

“Ain’t this the museum you wanted to go to?” Angel asked.

EZ nodded, “Yeah at some point. You guys don’t have to come in.”

The four of them turned down the street toward the entrance and Gilly laughed, “Oh I’m definitely going.”

Angel frowned, “You wanna go to a museum? You good, homie?”

“If all the chicks in the museum look like that? Fuck yeah, I do,” he scoffed and nodded over at the museum steps.

They all looked up to see two men in suits talking to a woman, her long curly hair flowing gently in the wind as she laughed. Coco’s eyes widened when he saw ink covering her throat, bright acrylics on her tattooed hands. His eyes followed her curves, covered up by her professional attire. He licked his lips when he heard Angel mumble, “Damn.”

EZ shook his head, “I didn’t mean we had to go now.”

“What better time than the present, boy scout?” Gilly smirked, “You guys in?”

Angel looked over at Coco, who shrugged, “Why not?”

“Alright,” Gilly clapped, “Think she dresses like that all the time?”

“She’s way out of your league,” Angel snorted, shaking his head as they crossed the street.

“You think you have a better chance?” Gilly arched an eyebrow.

Coco laughed, “You two gonna bet again? Since it went so well last time.”

Both men glared at him before going back to arguing over who would ask her out. The men in suits walked away and the woman turned to see the four of them heading up the stairs.

“Welcome,” she smiled and opened the door, “Ticket counter is to your left, let me know if you have any questions about the exhibits.”

Gilly looked her over slowly, “Thanks mami. I do have a question. Are you the exhibit?”

She laughed politely, “No, I’m not.”

“Too bad, I can’t stop staring,” he winked, heading inside. 

“All these artifacts and I can’t take my eyes off you,” Angel smirked and followed him in.

EZ shook his head, “I’m sorry about them, it’s their first day in public.”

Coco took off his sunglasses as she laughed, “It’s all good, I’ve heard worse,” she closed the door behind them, “Enjoy the museum,” she winked at Coco before a younger employee called her over.

Coco watched her walk off, hips swaying. Gilly and Angel were still quietly bickering over her. While they were distracted, he took a few steps toward where she stood with another woman wearing a regular museum uniform. The woman went into the exhibit and she turned to Coco.

“Can I help you?” she asked him.

“Just wanted to apologize again for my brothers,” he told her, “They’re harmless.”

She smiled, “That’s sweet, thank you. Like I said, I’ve had way worse pick up lines than that. I was a little bummed I didn’t hear one from you, though,” she admitted.

Coco’s eyes widened and he smiled, “Oh yeah?”

She nodded, “See if it was more original than your brothers,” she teased.

He laughed softly, “They didn’t exactly get creative, did they?”

“No but at least they didn’t say they’d nail me to the wall,” she shivered slightly in disgust, “That one grosses me out.”

He shook his head, “I wouldn’t have let them get away with that one.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Coco,” he held a hand out to her, “Yours?”

She introduced herself and shook his hand, “I guess you wouldn’t let them get away with that, would you, boogeyman?”

His eyes lit up, “You know that story?”

She smiled, “Of course,” she scanned the patches on his leather. Coco held his breath for a moment, waiting for her to dismiss him, “Santo Padre? What brings you to San Diego?”

“We wanted to get out of the desert for a few days,” he murmured, “Hang out at the beach.”

“That’s why I live here, so I can be on the beach whenever,” she smiled, “How long are you in town for?”

“Till Tuesday,” he bit his lip, willing his heart to slow down.

She nodded, holding his gaze for a moment, “So, you got a line?”

He shook his head, “No lines,” he licked his lips, “But I’d love to take you out later.”

She smiled, “I can’t tonight but I’ll take your number and call you tomorrow?” she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Coco recited his number to her, smirking when he glanced over to see Gilly and Angel glaring at him. She nodded, “I’ll see you soon?” she took a few steps back, smiling.

“See you soon,” he smiled slowly, his eyes on hers.

She giggled and turned down a hallway, out of his sight. He rejoined the other guys.

“What just happened?” Angel asked, “You get her number?”

He shook his head, “Gave her mine. Thanks for making me look good,” he smirked as EZ handed him a ticket, “Thanks, bro.”

“Motherfucker,” Gilly swore, “You’re such a dick.”

After the museum, the four of them headed to dinner, then a bar on the beach. They stood around a pool table, EZ and Angel against Coco and Gilly.

“I still can’t believe you snaked her from me,” Gilly shook his head.

“You don’t have a claim on her, homie,” he smirked, taking a sip of beer.

“You come on too aggressive, bro,” Angel said.

EZ snorted, “You weren’t much better.”

Angel scoffed, “I wasn’t as bad as him!”

“All I did was give her my number,” Coco watched Gilly take his turn, “It’s not like I stole your girlfriend or some shit.”

Coco was in the middle of his turn when a loud cheer erupted behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see a high top all holding their drinks up, laughing.

“Wait, isn’t that her?”

Coco grinned when he saw her sitting at the high top, a pink margarita in her hand and a relaxed smile on her face. She caught his gaze and she smiled wider, waving at him. He held up a finger, turning back to finish his turn, “It is.”

He sunk two balls and missed the third, setting his cue down when he heard, “Lord have mercy. Look at that.”

All thought left his mind when he saw her heading toward him. She had forgone her professional attire, a longer asymmetrical skirt with a button up and blazer, for a tight black and white dress that hit mid thigh. Her long curled were tied up in a ponytail, two braids nestled among the strands. Her darker lipstick made him want to smear it.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hey,” he murmured, “You look beautiful.”

She giggled shyly, “Thank you. This is a coincidence.”

“Your plans for the night?” he asked, glancing at the table that was not so subtly spying on her.

She nodded, “College friends in town for the night. We’re going to the beach tomorrow before their flight leaves.”

Coco smirked, “We’re going to the beach too. The one down the road.”

“So are we,” she laughed, “Another coincidence.”

“Or fate,” he suggested, failing to keep himself from checking her out.

She felt butterflies under his gaze, “Could be. I gotta get back but how about this? If you find me at the beach tomorrow, you can take me out to dinner.”

His eyes lit up at the challenge. Between his military training and club antics, he knew he could meet it, “I’m down. See you tomorrow, ma.”

“See you tomorrow,” she kissed his cheek softly, walking back to her group. He couldn’t stop smirking the rest of the night.

Coco sat down on a lounge chair between Angel and Gilly, “Why the fuck do we stay in the desert when we could be here?” he asked as Angel passed him the blunt.

Angel laughed, “We should convince Alvarez to start a San Diego charter.”

“Coco just wants to be near his new girl,” Gilly opened a beer.

“You still bitching about that?” Coco arched an eyebrow, “How many chicks are out here, go pick up one up if you got that much game.”

“Oh now you got game?” Gilly asked, “With that crooked ass nose.”

Coco passed the blunt to EZ, retort on his tongue when his phone lit up with an unknown number. He opened it to find a picture of her smiling, sunglasses covering her eyes and her long hair tied up in a messy bun. He could only see from her shoulders up, a table with beer pong set up in the background. It was accompanied by a text.

I’m here! Ready for your mission?

He smirked, typing out, ‘Mission accepted’ before standing up, “Well you fuckers can keep playing with each other, I’m going to get a date.”

EZ grinned, “Good luck, bro.”

Coco fist bumped him, “Good luck with these two,” he joked and grabbed his phone and cigarettes, sliding his sunglasses on as he walked up to the top of the sand. He remembered the size of her group the night before and knew they wouldn’t be that hard to spot. He checked the picture again, his heart skipping a beat at her smile. Another text came in as he tried to study the background for clues.

No clues but I do have a drink waiting for you

He noticed rocks behind her and scanned the beach, grinning when he saw a cliff to his left. He walked down to the water, taking his time to smoke a cigarette as he made his way over. A large blue canopy with a long table under it was set up next to the cliff, coolers and bags scattered around towels and blankets set up on the ground. He swore under his breath when he spotted her in nothing but a black and green two piece, a drink in each hand. Tattoos covered both arms and curled around her long legs, a few on her back and sides. She was talking to two other women, one in a pink one piece and the other covered by an oversized white t shirt and men’s swimming trunks. Four guys stood at either end of the beer pong table in different colored bathing suits. He walked up, ignoring the looks the guys gave him as he tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and grinned.

“Coco!” she leaned in to kiss his cheek, “That didn’t take nearly as long as I expected.”

He laughed, “I was a Marine, baby.”

“That’s not fair,” she pouted, “Here’s a beer if you want it. Let me introduce you to everyone,” she offered him the bottle.

“Sure, thank you,” he took it and followed her around the tent, shaking hands with everyone. They all went to college together, getting picked up and invited in by others in the friend group. They used to be a bigger group, she explained, but fights, moves and break ups splintered the group until it was the remaining seven of them. She hung back with him as the guys kept playing, one white boy, Dan or Dave or something, glancing at him often with a glare.

“Your friend in the green doesn’t like me that much,” he teased a few minutes later.

She looked over at the canopy and sighed, “He claims he’s protective, but he’s not like that about anyone else. He’s just one of those white knight guys.”

“White knight guys?” he frowned.

“Yeah, if I do something he thinks could hurt me, he acts concerned for my well being but he just has feelings for me and gets jealous,,” she explained, “He did the same thing in college when he found out I was dancing.”

He arched an eyebrow, “Dancing?”

She nodded, looking up at him, “I didn’t come from a good family or anything, so I had to pay my own way through college. I got some scholarships but it didn’t cover everything so I started stripping to help pay my bills and shit,” he watched her as she spoke, knowing this was a test of his reaction.

“That’s smart, you probably made bank,” he winked.

A  smile lit up her face, satisfied in his response, “You know I did. No student loans for me.”

White Knight Dan/Dave called her over for her turn but she declined, telling him she’d play later. His disappointment was visible, tossing another glare Coco’s way as he went back to the game.

Coco smirked, “Damn, I’m making all kinds of enemies talking to you.”

She took a sip of her beer, “Who else?”

“My homie’s still mad,” he laughed.

“Tell him if he can find it in his heart to forgive you, I have a bunch of hot, single friends I can introduce him to,” she offered.

He laughed softly, “That might do it, thanks mami.”

[cheynovak]

Extra credit  

Reader x Soldier Boy 

Warnings:  Well, it’s soldier boy. Where to start... Smut 16+, Fluff, Alcohol, Cursing, you name it ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words: 4377 

POV: Y/N is supe with the ability to time travel. But doesn't want to show off her powers, so she pretends to be a normal university student major in history. When her professor askes then to write a paper on any superhero in history she decided to write about the infamous Soldier Boy, not to give him more fame, no, to tell his true story and the mistakes that were covered up. But her late nights at the library makes her dream about the man not knowingly sending her back to 1980.  

 

----------------------- 

Y/N didn’t know if her professor would like her paper. He even worships the man he could turn any topic into a soldier boy reference. “I’m curious what you come up with Y/N.” He had said. But she would make sure that he at least would appreciate the effort and time she had put into it. It was 2am and Y/N was still hanging over history books at the library. Not finding a thing she didn’t already know, or at least what Vought wanted the world to know.  

She knew there were stories about covered up murders, racism, mistreating woman, herogasm. But nothing, not a single thing she could find. But Y/N was so tired she decided to pack up the books and go back to her dorm. As she practically fell asleep before hitting her bed. But she didn’t get a peaceful dream.  

“So, you are trying to ruin my legacy, kid?” Y/N heard a voice, looking around her it was pitch black. She started to walk towards the voice, slightly scared. “Can’t find anything?”  But it didn’t seem to get closer. “Must be frustrating.” Y/N stopped walking looking around when all of the sudden the voice sounded right behind her. “Maybe you should let it go.” Within the second she turned around standing toe to toe with Soldier Boy looking up at him, she felt so small.  

Y/N’s dream made her jump up, realising she was still at the university library, she fell asleep on the books. When Y/N looked around she noticed that the students were dressed differently, all of them looking weird at her. She got up returned the books and left, once outside she realised what had happened. “Time jump” She sighted. She would at least have to “recharge” for a couple of hours before she could go back to her own timeline. So, nothing better to do than figure out where she was.  

She left the campus and bought a newspaper at one of the stands, in the street. New York... 1980 Y/N closed the paper, seeing a huge picture of Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess on the cover. “It couple strikes again. America once again safe. Yeah right.” She heard herself mumbling.  

“They’re giving a party tonight.” Said the young woman next to her. “What, sorry?” Y/N said looking up. “Crimson countess and Soldier boy are hosting a party, tonight. We are still looking for, normal, guests.” She said looking her up and down giving her a weird look. “If you want? A few regular people are lucky birds and get invited.” She handed her an invitation. “Yeah, thanks, eh dress code?” She asked with hesitation. - “Dress to impress.”  

Y/N figured there was no better way to get dirt on Soldier Boy than to actually join one of his outraces parties. Maybe even take a picture or two as evidence. But first, she needed to get a place to stay, clothes and make up. She doubted that her skinny jeans, combat boots and flannel would get her into the party. So, she did what she could.  

Y/N was impressed with how large Vought’s building was. The “normal” guest entered via a marble stair with golden rails, an hour after the supes and important people were inside. So that they knew who wasn’t really word their time. The ceiling was sky high. Y/N got nervous when she saw the number of steps she had to take before she entered the room. Besides that, she was the only one without a partner or plus one. She looked around seeing Soldier Boy and Countess greet the guest at the bottom of the stairs. Her heart pounded. She slowly took one step at the time.  

Soldier boy was already bored to dead, he and crimson just had a massive fight and now he needed to pretend he loves her with his life. He looked up to see how many useless people he was forced to greet. But instead, Y/N catches his eye. A blue tight-fitting dress showing of her curses, a colour that perfectly matched her copper hair. Black high heels something she by now probably regrets, looking at how you hold on to the rails. But that made her legs look like a stairway to heaven. Her light copper hair was pinned up, but a few strings hung loose beside her face, hair not as dark as Countess her red locks, to some people she would look a light brunet, but he could see the red shine coming through. He could see her biting the inside of her lip while she was focussed on the steps.  

Crimson Countess caught him staring so she cleared her throat. Getting Y/N out of her focus, looking up and nearly tumbling of the last few steps. She felt a strong hand around her arm and back. Embarrassed she looked up, seeing Soldier Boy holding her at the bottom of the stairs. “You ok?” he asked locking his green eyes with hers. “I, eh Yes, I'm so sorry.” She said while pulling back and straightening her dress. She held out her hand to Countess, who shook it quickly. Then shook Soldier Boy’s hand while he was still staring at her body making her blush. Y/N quickly got some golden courage at the bar.  

Hours past Y/N kept looking around hoping she would see something that made this trip worthed. But so far nothing but boring conversations with people who were over the moon with the supes. Soldier boy noticed Y/N standing at the bar drinking champagne but not really interacting with people. The bartender was gone to long for her liking, so she lifted herself over the bar to get the bottle noticing it was empty she sights. Not noticing that Soldier Boy was standing behind her clearly checking out her ass. When she stood back on the ground he spoke. “Really difficult to get good staff these days.” Y/N got a DeJa'Vu moment and dropped her glass when she heard his voice behind her.  

Y/N cheeks turned red, when she turned around to face him. “How long have you been standing there?” Soldier Boy smirked. “Long enough.” He leaned in against the bar. Whistled at the bartender who came running down towards him. “Yes, sir.” - “The usual and champagne for eh, what is your name sweetheart?” - “Y/N” - “make sure Y/N’s glass doesn’t get empty. Understood.” -”Yes, sir.”   

“Well, being a supe has it’s perks eh” Y/N said to break the awkwardness of that conversation. He only smiled slightly. “What are you doing here Y/N?” He asked taking a sip of his drink. Her stomach turned, he was on to her. “What?” She asked way to fast. “What are you doing here? You clearly seem bored.” He repeated only this time taking a step closer to her, locking eyes again. Even though he hung against the bar he was still taller than her.  

“Honestly...” Y/N got nervous looking down, noticing his large strong hands around his glass. But before she could answer a servant came towards Soldier Boy. “Sir, Crimson Countess would like to speak to you.” He pointed towards her. Soldier Boys eyes followed his directions. She looked pissed. She knew that he normally wouldn’t talk to a normal girl if they didn't have to. Not that she loved him, but people were whispering and that she couldn’t have. So, she played the jealous girlfriend card.  “Tell her” He paused “To stop being a fucking jealous cunt. And to find her a fuck toy for tonight. Because I don’t want her in my bed tonight.” The servant looked scared but delivered the message. You saw Countess her face change, Y/N looked over at Soldier Boys face. He gave her a perky smile while lifting his eyebrows before he turned to Y/N again. Who was watching this all with an open mouth and stunned eyes.  

“Where were we sweetheart.” He said transformed fully in his charming persona. “I think I might head out. I don’t want to cause any trouble.” Nodding towards Countess. “Nonsense, she is all bark but no bite. But I have a better idea. Follow me.” He took your hand in his, you noticed how yours almost completely disappeared. He took you to the room next door, you were really not sure what you were doing here. And he saw it. “Soldier boy, what..” - “Ben he interrupted her. My name is Ben.” - “Ok, Ben, what are we doing here?”  

He didn’t answer he only led her to the couch in the corner making her sit down and poured himself and her a new drink at the mini bar before sitting next to her. The way he stared into her eyes, the way he was checking her out made the heat growing inside her. Unbelievable she thought, I hate this man.  Y/N looked around, “is this an office?” - “Mine” He proudly answered. “Supes have offices?” She laughed a little too loud. “Why is that funny?” He stared at her intrigued. “I thought your skills had to be demonstrated out there in the open. And that paperwork was for the back office.”  

Ben lifted your legs on his lap and slowly started to remove your heels. “Not all skills are to be shown outside these walls.” He said with a flirty sound to it. “Your feet must be so soar in those heels.” He said while massaging one. He noticed Y/N to cramp up and moving back. “Don’t worry sweetheart, if wanted you to force into doing something, I mean I wouldn’t, but physically I could have already.” - ”That really isn’t comforting Ben. It even made you sound like an ass.” She blurred out. The look she had on her face while realizing what she just said to the most powerful supe on the planet made him laugh, not a I'm laughing polite laugh, no, an actual honest reaction. “Now that.” Y/N said with a little more confidence. “That is way more relaxing. Seeing you be honest.”  

Ben switched foot, while making small talk. ”You still haven’t answered me why you’re here.” He said. Y/N decided not to lie, or at least speak a little of the truth. “Researching, I’m writing a paper.” He looked at her nodded to continue. “I’m a history student.” Now that got his attention. “History, let me guess the subject you are writing about...” He paused “Is you.” Y/N answered honestly. He grinned a little clearly liking the compliment. “What you got so far?” He asked slowly moving his hands from your foot to your ankle. “Nothing, I thought I would find world changing intel, or would hate you or I don’t know, get to know the man behind the mask. So far, I have nothing the media haven’t already told us a hundred times.”  

“Research from today?” He asked changing ankles again. “Other than you giving amazing massages? Nothing. I don’t think I can impresse my professor with that.” she said softy, he chuckled.  

His hand moved up Y/N’s leg, pushing her dress up a bit, bending one knee, he softly kissed her calf. Your other leg still laying still on his legs. “What do you want to know.” He asked looking in her eyes while kissing the inside of her knee. Y/N’s heartbeat just went over the roof. “What?” She asked stunned. “You have the opportunity to ask me anything you want to know. Ask.” He almost ordered her.  

Ben was intrigued by Y/N, student who did her best to get invited to a party just to get to know him. For a paper but that didn’t matter. He wondered if she had known that this outfit would catch his eye. Her skin felt so soft against his lips. If he didn’t want to know more about her, he would have fucked her right then and there and left. But there was something about her, he couldn’t put his finger on it. And when she noticed his real smile, he knew she could see through his persona. He pushed her dress up just enough, to see her thighs and get a glimpse of her panties. While continuing to kiss her legs.  

Y/N was trying to think of a question, but Ben getting closer and closer to her core wasn’t making it easy. “You and Crimson Countess.” She started but stopped holding back a moan when he licked and sucked the inside of her thigh. “Yes..?” He asked innocent. “Is it all real, or just a publicity stunt?” Ben stopped moved your legs and seated himself between your legs. He looked at Y/N before answering. “It started as a stunt, I fell for her, but a month ago I found out that she doesn’t love me. We’ve been fighting since then. She doesn’t know why, she doesn’t know I know, so she pretends to be the jealous girlfriend. But I see through her.” He kissed her other thigh “more questions?” - “You like being a supe?” - ‘It has its pros and cons.” - “Cons?” She asked looking truly interested.  

“I’ve always wanted a family.” He caught himself confessing that to her. “But being a hero. Having a family isn’t something the company agrees to.”  Ben felt her hand against his cheek. Like she was saying your secret is save with me. He noticed her breath was getting heavy and he could hear her heartbeat. “My turn to ask something.” Ben moved Y/N’s dress even more up. Seeing her laced panties were damped. Y/N’s cheeks turned red. “Can I taste you?” He asked licking his lips.  

Y/N nodded without even realizing, “Words sweetheart.” He said while placing his hand over her clothed core feeling the warmth of his big hands. “Yes.” she whined softy. Ben moved her panties aside with a finger and started to lick her folds apart. “Hmm, so sweet.” He hummed against her core when he tastes her. His tongue flat against her stroking up and down. Her moans make him hard in his pants, he noticed her moving looking for more friction. “So needy sweetheart?” He asked while taking her panties off. Ben moves his mouth over her clit while teasing her with his fingers against her wet hole. “Ben...” she moans. “Yes baby, talk to me. Tell me what you want.”  

“More, I need to feel more of you.” She asked whining.  

Ben entered his finger inside her without warning, he felt her tightening around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” she moans. Moving and curling his finger until he found that one spot inside her.  Y/N is moaning his name like a prayer when he touched it, adding another finger. “Oh Ben, don’t stop, please, oh please don’t stop!!” She screams while moves her hands in his hair holding him closer to her clit. He licks her until she came down from her high. Ben cleaned his lips with the back of his hand looking at her laying there with her hands over her eyes. Y/N opened her eyes looking at him between her legs, waiting for a reaction from her.   

Y/N couldn’t believe what just happened. I just let Soldier Boy between my legs. But it felt oh so good... The heat inside Y/N didn’t go away. She looked at Ben, waiting for her reaction, she crawled up, pushing him back against the couch without breaking eye contact, she could see the fire in his green eyes. She undid his belt, lowered his pants and underwear, he gladly helped her. She was shocked to see that not only his hands were big. She wrapped her hands at his shaft slowly pumping, she kept looking him in the eye. Ben threw his head back and moaned her name while his hand found its way to her hair, she knew what he meant but decided the torture him a little. “Use your words baby.” She said teasingly. Ben looked back at her almost proud of her cockiness. “I’m wondering how sweet those perfect red lips would feel around my cock. What it would feel like if I fuck that dirty little mouth of yours.” He said not even blushing.  

He tried to push her again towards his pulsing dick. “Uh uh uh” Y/N said “I’m in charge now.” She heard him growl of frustration. Instead of taking him in her mouth she got a little lower and sucked softly at his balls while she turned her wrist while pumping harder. “Fuuuck!” He said while his hips bucked up and head fell back again. Without leaving him time to recover she took his cock in her mouth taking him in as far as she could. Making him cling back on to her head and moan again. “Jesus Christ, you really are a dirty little student aren’t you.” That made Y/N moan with his cock in her mouth. With a pop she let go of him straddling him. He took off the rest of his costume before ripping her dress apart from her back. “BEN!” That’s the only thing I have to wear tonight!” He smirked; “you won’t be needing it anymore sweetheart.” 

Y/N held his cock, pushing herself down on it, she could feel the sting but damn it felt so good, she knew from the second he was inside her that she was addicted to him, to them having sex. While she was riding him hard, he was licking and sucking her breasts making sure he left marks. Ben could feel that she was close so he helped her by playing with her clit again. Her nails dug in and pulled his hair while her head found its way to his neck. “Let go Y/N, come on baby ,let me hear how much you like it.” He pushed her to her limits screaming and shaking what seemed for hours. Her legs felt jelly. Ben lifted her up pushed her breast against the back of the couch while she sat on her knees as he stood behind her, pushing in again. He didn’t slow down he pushed her over the edge again, but this time the feeling of her tightening around him and her moans made him come too.  

As he came down from his high, he took a step back and got a couple of tissues for her. “Thanks.” she said while cleaning herself up. “I should have asked this before, but eh, are you eh.” - “No worries, birth control pill.” she answered out of breath. “Ok good.” He sighted. As she sat down on the couch, she looked at her dress. “Well, this one is ripped to pieces. I guess I have spare clothing at the hotel but. I still need to get there, preferably not butt naked.” Y/N said to herself.  

You can stay here for the night, by the morning I can fix you something to wear.” Ben answered. “You want me to stay?” He looked confused. “Is that such a weird question? I just was balls deep in you but staying the night is a strange request?” - “Yes, no, I mean I didn’t figure you as the “let’s actually sleep together” type of guy. “I usually am not.” He answered honestly. “But I own you a couple of more answers for your paper. Especially after what that mouth did to me.” He winked making her blush.  

Ben looked outside in the hallway. “Clear.” He said before he and Y/N walked out. Y/N wore his green shirt, it was long enough to just cover her butt. Ben only in his pants holding his protecting gear and her shoes/dress. After they took the elevator to the top floor, he opened another door to his bedroom. “Wow.” she said looking at the Kingsize bed and the room that could easy be a ballroom. She sees a bathroom “Hey Ben?” She asked. He looked to her while he was pouring another drink. “Would you mind if I take a quick shower?” “Make yourself comfortable, but eh, don’t close the door” He said biting his lip. Y/N shook her head and walked over to the bathroom dropping his shirt halfway to the floor, swaying her hips. Pretending to be overconfident going with her hands through her hair, letting it all down.  

Ben shook his head, this woman was something different he thought. Taking a sip as he watched her getting in the shower. He put on a vinyl with a slow sensual sound to it as he heard her getting out of the shower. He looked in Countess her dresser, she hated this babydoll dress he bought for her a while ago. He placed it on the bed before he got in himself sitting against the board waiting for her.  

Y/N walked out the bathroom with the same confidence. She stood completely naked in front of the bed. “Is this for me?” She asked. “I’m not wearing it.” He smirked “It’s beautiful.” She said while putting it on before getting in the bed with him. He held her close, her head against his muscled body her arm wrapped around his chest. For some reason this felt good. Within seconds she fell asleep.  

Y/N woke up with the feeling of a hangover. “Y/N OMG! You got to get up! You’re missing your history class!” He roommate Ruby yelled. Your eyes flew open you looked at the clock not realising where you were. “Wait, what?” Was it all a dream she thought. But when she got up Ruby looked over at her. “What are you wearing?” - “I, eh I have no idea. ”Y/N answered seeing the babydoll dress in the mirror- “Girl I thought I was a party animal, but your blackouts seen legit! Anyway, got to run. Kiss kiss.” She said. Y/N still felt sore in her legs but managed to get dressed and walked through downtown towards the university head in the clouds.  

Little did she know that Ben had recently escaped Russia. He just got a haircut and was walking on the opposite sidewalk looking around looking for something he could remember. As his eyes fell on Y/N he was stunned. She hasn’t aged a day! He ran acrossed the street trying to follow her but lost Y/N in the crowd.  

Y/N got to her history class 20 minutes late. “I’m so, so sorry sir.” She ran in. He looked at her nodded her to take a seat. Ben was still walking towards the only university he knew in New York. He walked in and started to look around. When he sees the librarian, he asked for history class. Her eyes grew big when she recognised him. 1st floor, 5th door to your right. He thanked her and walked fast. He heard the professor talk. “So that will be all for me today, it’s up to you. I will call out your name and you will all present your papers on famous of non-famous superheroes in our history in front of the class. Miss Y/L/N since you had chosen one of my favourites, please take the stage.” Y/N got up very slowly not noticing Ben looking through the small window. “I chose Soldier boy, but eh, to be honest, I didn’t find enough new material and eh...” “What where recourses?” Your professor asked stern.  “Mostly library, but eh I tried to take an interview, eh..” Y/N could feel her face getting red.  

 

"But she didn’t have enough time to finish it.” A voice behind her said. Y/N’s eyes grew big looking at Ben walking in. “And you are?” Her professor pierced his eyes. But when Ben walked towards the stairs his mannerism made her professor recognising his childhood hero stood in front of him.  

He came running down “S-Soldier Boy, it is an absolute honour to meet you!” He held out his hand and Ben shook, kneading it a little too hard. “Y/N tracked me down, finally found me last night, she begged for an interview.” He smirked, Y/N rolled her eyes. “But you know I got a little... distracted by her beauty.” He whispered to the professor the man smiled nervous. “And by the morning she was gone.” He looked at her. Y/N looked apologetic at Ben.  “Is that why you were late?” The professor looked at you. “Yes sir, I’m sorry, but I wanted an authentic paper, words from the man himself. And it wasn’t easy to find him.” She smiled shyly.  

“Ok, I’ll give you enough credit to pass this test, for now, but I expect a paper by the end of the year. Just make sure it thorough and authentic. See it as extra credit. You are for now dismissed Miss Y/L/N. Soldier Boy, sir.” He shook his hands again. As you and Ben walked out the classroom, he looked at you. “How, who are you?” He asked. You told him everything he wasn’t even surprised. “You know, I looked for you, back in ‘80. I couldn’t wrap my head around why you left.” Y/N gave Ben a confused look. “I thought that we had a... a thing.” He said, this was clearly difficult for him to admit. Y/N stopped walking not really understanding why the oldest supe alive saw something in you. But she held his arm in her hand to make him stop walking. And before she could think twice, she kissed his lips.  

When they separated Y/N said. “I don’t know what we’re going to do from now on, but we’ll figure it out.”  

--

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

[hllywdwhre]

Hoax

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary: You debate leaving your identity as Batgirl behind for a certain villain that has caught your eye.

Warnings: None; let me know if I missed any

Word Count: 641

Notes: Credit to @slut4thebroken for the ‘baby bat’ nickname 🫶🏻 it’s now a favorite trope of mine with Crane

Based on the song ‘hoax’ by Taylor Swift.

My only one

My kingdom come undone

My broken drum

You have beaten my heart

Morals. You couldn’t let yours lapse. Your morals are what caused you to start working with Bruce in the first place, yet every time he called you “Baby Bat”, you felt your heart flutter in a way you knew you shouldn’t.

He was terrorizing the city with a plan to unleash a deadly amount of fear into the streets. It would cause Gotham to fall into something beyond anarchy and the cure would never be ready in enough time for you to stop it. It was terrorism, there was nothing else to describe it.

Yet, here you sat, with him standing in front of you, a look that was equal parts teasing and knowing on his face.

“You can’t ask me to stop being Batgirl, I can’t do it.” Your voice shook as you sat on his bed next to him.

“So your morals stop you from giving up Batgirl, but not from fucking and falling for the Scarecrow?” He asked, the familiar taunting emphasis on his alter ego’s name. The look on his face matched the taunting tone.

“There has to be a middle ground somewhere…” you began, voice desperate, “I won’t help Br- Batman when it comes to Scarecrow’s plots, but I won’t help you with them, either. I stay on the sidelines and only aid him in taking down others,” you offered, trying to come up with something that allowed you to keep Batgirl and Jonathan.

“You know that can’t be done. I work with others and they’re going to work with me,” he pointed out.

You let silence fill the air for your response, and for once, he didn’t fill the air with a know-it-all or sarcastic reply. He allowed your silence to sit.

Weeks later and you were sitting by someone’s side, watching as the city went into chaos.

“And your kingdom crumbles…” Jonathan said in a low voice that was distorted by the mask he wore.

The words sent a pang through your heart, but you ignored it.

“It was going to crumble anyways,” you replied with an equally distorted voice.

“Let’s move,” he told you, grabbing your hand and standing.

You stood up and followed him through one of the many tall buildings that filled Gotham, finding your horses in the lobby of the building, and moving to guide them outside before a third party made their presence known to the two of you.

“I thought it was you… I didn’t want to believe it,” Bruce said, causing you and Jonathan to whip around and look at where he was perched on one of the desks.

“Don’t,” Jonathan warned, his voice even more menacing while it was distorted.

As much as he had mocked you for the way your morals had caused such a…tumultuous beginning to your relationship, he didn’t allow for others to do the same.

“You traded one set of wings for another, and in doing so helped bring the downfall of Gotham,” Bruce said, his eyes behind the Batman mask being trained on you. “From Batgirl to the Sparrow…” he trailed off.

“You always underestimated her,” Jonathan said, stepping slightly in front of you, as if trying to protect you. “Do you understand why it’s now Sparrow?”

Bruce shook his head.

“Because Sparrows are often seen as harmless birds,” Jonathan answered, allowing your hand to rest on his arm as he continued on, “but in many cultures they represent death. That’s what you saw her as when she joined your side. A helper. Not a fighter that could bring more to you. You were afraid to weaponize her, but I saw the other side of her. The one that could be dangerous.”

He saw the side of you Bruce was afraid to weaponize, but he didn’t view it as a weapon. He saw all of you and viewed it as you.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Deity: Heironeous, The Vindicator

Let our hands never falter, sparing evil the sword Let our hearts never waiver, letting weakness take root Let our march never end, lest the task be left undone

Champions, zealots, fools. All these words describe the followers of Heironeous; patron god of those blinded by duty and self righteousness. From the guards who rough up vagrants for the sake of social order, to the patriotic songs sung by soldiers on the way to invade a land they've never seen, to the teacher who’s convinced they can instruct through pain, because sparing the rod really does spoil the child.

It is a terrifying thing after all to be in the wrong, to have no easy answers, to be filled with doubt, and so the Archpaladin and his clergy intercede to provide the fearful populace with direction, with easy answers, and with scapegoats when necessary.

Adventure Hooks:

The party are asked by some troubled parents to look in on the local chapterhouse of the Invincible Vanguard, who took over for the town's royal garrison some years ago. A number of youths, bored of life in their sleepy little town decided to sign up with the Vanguard a few months past and have not been seen since. The Heironeian are cagey to say the least, but through their investigation the party might stumble across the same awful secret the kids did during their initiation, as well as their ultimate fate.

A beast rampages through the countryside, sowing fear, destruction, and rumour wherever it goes. Defeating it is no easy task, but one of the local lords is willing to pay a high price should the party bring him its head as proof. Imagine their surprise when a few days later a group of Heironeian paladins are paraded through the street carrying THEIR trophy aloft, claiming all the credit and with that same lord backing their claims. It seems the party has been part of a cruel PR stunt, however will they make this right?

A series of inexplicable mishaps and borderline disasters that plague a frontier village have come to a head with one of the Vindicator's itinerant preachers convinces the locals that devilry is the source of their woes, pointing the blacksmith's tiefling apprentice. It's up to the party to prevent the kid from getting strung up, and make the villagers see reason before there's an out and out witchhunt on their hands.

Setup: From the outside, with the perspective of history, it’s easy enough to see that there’s something wrong with faith of Heironeous, how their temples and icons venerate violence, whether it be martial glory or the suffering of martyrs that needed to be avenged. How their liturgy teaches the faithful that sympathy to outsiders, questions to authority, even the smallest of doubts are weaknesses to be overcome.

But the Heironeans are the ones fighting off the monsters encroaching on your village when the baron won’t pay for garrisons or adventurers, and it’s their priests who come to hand out food to the hungry and say there’s work the town over building their new fortress, and it’s their inquisitors who stand in the market square telling the crowd that all the awful things that happened these past few years is the fault of sinful, faithless rulers, and if only they could be led by righteous men (and it is always men) and expel the social parasites then truly this realm could be one beloved by the gods. 

That’s the grift, the Heironeans seize on a crisis or a fear and offer to put your life on a better track, nevermind that it’s a permanent war footing where you and your family and neighbours are conscripted to roles based on how you’d be most useful, and disagreement amounts to insubordination.

Heironeans say they’re justified of course because evil is always out there, the one true evil, Hextor, the grotesque, six armed lord of bloodshed and suffering who wishes to make slaves or corpses of all the world and the heavens besides. He is jealous of Heironeous you see, his twin brother, who is propheciesed to be the only one who can defeat him. Hextor never rests, always spawning more evil in the world, and anyone could be his follower without even knowing it... all they’d need to do is work to subvert the will of the archpaladin and they’d be abetting the scourge.  You don’t want to be an agent of evil do you? Then tithe to the church, enlist in the vanguard, obey your betters, marry early and within your kind and have more children to carry on the fight when you are too week, raise them up right, kneel when you are told, submit. Do all these things and the Vindicator will know you are good, and worth fighting for, and will forgive your mortal failings. 

There is a deeper lore, behind even what the faithful or even most of their leaders know:  that Heironeous and Hextor are the same being. Sometimes it is the monster wearing the golden hero like a mask, sometimes it is the bright and radiant warrior casting a most wicked shadow, sometimes it is simply that the god of war and slaughter has two faces, fair and foul, both righteous, both tyrannical, both hungering for blood.

The cult of Hextor is a secret order within the faith, membership offered only to those chosen by their god or those that see the worship of the archpaladin for what it really is: Violence for the sake of power, power for the sake of violence. They are secretive, deflecting rumours of their existence onto puppets and figureheads that they manipulate, going so far as to create false-cults to the Scourge to draw the faithful’s attention and ire. Any fault in the church can be blamed on Hextorian infiltration, any opponent that challenges them is but an agent of the Scourge.

  Titles:  The invincible, the vindicator, the archpaladin / the scourge, the herald of hells

Signs:  Oddly serene visions of violence and pain, wounds or blood on the image or relics of martyrs or weapons of champions, prophetic nightmares about the victory of Hextor.

Symbols:  A white hand or clapsed around a silver lightning bolt/ a black gauntlet clutched around six red arrows

Inspiration: Cruelty cloaked in the guise of righteousness is not an original concept but after writing  about how d&d has weird habit of using a frankly childlike view of morality in order to justify its violence  the same way that IRL hategroups do, I wanted to play around with the concept. 

Likewise, I felt my campaigns needed a solid “badguy with the aesthetic of goodguy” villain and I was tired of using overzealous followers of the dawnfather or bahamut to fill out the roster.  Specifically, rather than bad people in service to an ostensibly good god (who are objectively real in the setting and thus would try to oust the bad apples), I wanted to create an evil god that used the trappings of goodness to dupe average people into doing bad, the same way that has happened over and over again historically in our own world.

 I ended up choosing Heironeous for this villain makeover because like a lot of other default d&d deities I find the base form of him painfully one note, he’s the paladin god of paladins and he has hero IN HIS NAME. That said, he has a twin brother Hextor, god of war and tyrants that serves as his dark mirror and there’s thematic meat in that... Merging the two into one god gives us this delicious setup where the theology of Heironeous creates the problem and sells the solution, benefiting no matter who wins in the supposed cosmic power struggle.

Art

[chip-does-stuff]

Things I’ve noticed and/or thoroughly enjoyed seeing from watching Megamind eight times over the course of six days

Megamind has such a crush on Roxanne before he even steals Bernard’s identity

Hal gearshifts in midair while saving Roxanne during the midnight flight

Roxanne looks like she genuinely feels bad after slamming the breaks on the way to the school house

Megamind is incredibly good at hiding giant, smoke-producing blimps in midair (invisibility cloak???)

You can see projector lines in the observatory from a brain-bot

Minion and Megamind consistently switch back and forth between older sibling and younger sibling roles

There is a brainbot with lipstick and eyelashes

The way Megamind comments on Roxanne’s hair during their date gives me actual butterflies

Hans Zimmer wrote the MOST AMAZING LOVE THEME FOR ROXANNE AND MEGAMIND AND I WILL NEVER GET OVER IT

Roxanne’s absolutely dumbfounded look when Megamind compliments Metro Man’s music

You can hear so much glass shattering every time Tighten destroys a building

Crazy Train is clearly Minion’s favorite song and I respect it entirely

The way Megamind calls Roxanne’s name when he saves her from the alligator room is weirdly sweet (maybe I just have a crush on him)

Minion has a little antenna on his back that I assume lets him control the suit

Megamind immediately steps to protect Roxanne when Tighten sees past his disguise

Is the warden a father figure for Megamind??? Like obviously he’s a crap father if that’s the case but like, is he???

Roxanne runs up behind Tighten with a street sign in hand to defend Megamind while he’s crawling to the invisible car

Megamind’s hurt look when Bernard calls the dehydration gun “cheap”

When Roxanne rejects him, Megamind winces with every accusation (and I genuinely feel so bad for both of them like ow)

I love Megamind’s and Tighten’s themes, they’re both reminiscent of lullabies, which is a fun choice for the villain characters

Roxanne has a picture of the design for the diffuser gun hanging in her apartment when she’s trying to figure out Megamind’s plan

Megamind still has his custom baby seal leather boots on during the Tighten fight

Have I mentioned the music enough? Because I’m trying to figure out some of the themes by ear on the piano and the music is decently complex. It’s not insane, but it’s tougher to figure out than a lot of music.

“Lyrical Magic” is credited as an actual song in the end credits

Megamind’s face when Roxanne admits to looking back is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen and the way the camera follows his face is really well done

The use of lighting changes for ambiance or passage of time can be really subtle, but honestly just amazing

My dad thinks I will get sick of this movie pretty soon, seeing as I’ve watched it once or twice a day whenever possible, and he is seriously underestimating just how much I am in love with Megamind. My mom has given up calling me weird. I’m also using my uncle and aunt’s peacock account to watch it over and over, and if they’ve noticed how often I watch it they haven’t said anything.

Next week I try to beat my friend’s record of watching her comfort movie twenty times in one week.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Boundless Ch 1: The Rigid Hunter

summary: he’s looking for her— hunting her.

pairing: witch hunter!marc spector x witch!reader

contents: enemies to lovers, mentions of murder/torture, marc is a broken asshole, injury, blood mention

gif credit: @perotovar

wc: 2.4k

an: welcome to the boundless universe! i’ve really enjoyed writing this so far, i love the concept. i’d really love to build it together, so if anyone has any questions, thoughts, headcanons swirling around in your brains please feel free to come talk to me about these two! i hope that y’all like this and i’m excited to hear your feelings on it. 🤍

boundless masterlist | moonknight masterlist

Marc remembers the day he found out the legends were true. Say your prayers, lock your doors, and sprinkle your salt because they’re out there. Witches and wizards walk the streets looking for opportunities to spread pain and suffering. They look like us, and talk like us. But they can’t feel like us, love like us, care like us.

He was 10 years old the first time he witnessed the violence that comes with being in his family . He watched with horror as his parents tied up one of his teachers. She spewed nonsense, objects flew, and fires burned. Each hunter chose their weapons and that day he’d watched his parents use daggers he thought were for show.

He was afraid at first. He didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to be violent like her— like his mother. And though eventually he had succumbed to violence, realizing that there was no way to fight it, that it was in his blood, he always vowed that he would be different. Despite his disdain for witches, he has never been ruthless. He has always killed them quickly, painlessly with mercy, never been one to taunt them as they meet their deaths.

Today, almost 20 years later, Marc’s crossbow is slung over his shoulders, one of his hands resting over the dagger on his hip as he slowly makes his way through the forest. He’s hypervigilant and jumpy, eyes roaming the greenery that fades into orange and yellow and red. He’s ready to defend himself at the drop of a hat.

He’s looking for her— hunting her. The full moon is tonight, and witches always flock to their dens, charging their crystals, infusing their spells with the magic of the celestial being. Her den and a handful of others are in these woods, just on the outskirts of a camping resort so as not to draw too much suspicion. Time and time again witches fail with anonymity— he and his family follow the breadcrumbs they leave and pick them off one by one.

He’s looking for her darkness. He’ll know it when he sees it, he’s seen many dens and killed more witches than he can count. They surround themselves with smoke and blood and evil. This one will go down just like all the others, he’s sure. She’ll be just as vile, conniving. Just as eager to beg for her life when he lines the tip of an arrow up with her eyes. Emotionless and self-serving with a heart that bleeds black.

It’s easy to get distracted by the sights around him. He loves autumn, the symbolism of how even as an organism fails and dies, there’s beauty to be found. It gives him the hope that maybe there’s something to be found in him too despite all he’s been through.

There’s something soothing in the sound of leaves crunching beneath the weight of his boots. There’s a waterfall in the distance that feeds into the creek he’s following. Where there’s water, there’s life.

He continues up the stream, noticing the remnants of a paper sailboat coated in wax tangled in some brush on the bank. He bends to pick it up, noticing words sprawled across the side.

Sail under Hecate’s moon.

The words heighten his senses— she’s close, within walking distance of the area. And while that can mean a wide variety of things, Marc is prepared for the worst, to walk miles and miles if he has to. Standing quickly his eyes scan the area, wary of her. There is no one to be found, not an inkling of life in his sights so he carries on.

He nearly makes it to the waterfall when across the creek he hears the rustle of leaves and his heart lurches in his chest. No matter how many times he faces a witch, there’s always the unpredictable— they could have anything up their sleeves. Thousands of spells and enchantments and potions, each one more horrible than the next. His hands slick with sweat reach back, drawing his crossbow to line up with his sight.

Deer.

Two of them make their way to the bank, bending to drink, paying him no mind. His heartbeat slows and shakes his head, letting out a silent sigh of relief as he lowers the bow.

Marc’s eyes return to the waterfall that’s a short distance in front of him. He could simply go around, and walk a short distance so that he could get to the top of it at a steady incline. But that would be too easy for him. He was taught to never take the easy way, that anything that holds weight in this life is a challenge. It must be difficult for it to mean anything in his mother’s eyes. He still doesn’t quite understand why after all this time, her opinions have a hold on him. He bats the thoughts of her away as he eyes the rocks to the left of the waterfall’s mouth.

They are damp sure, but not completely slick and unclimbable. The summit of the waterfall is much higher than it looked far away, but he thinks nothing of it as he steps forward and begins to climb. The hood of his cape falls as he puts one hand above another, exposing his dark curls.

A bush behind him rattles and he glances over his shoulder, eyes going wide as he realizes how vulnerable he is right now. There’s nothing he could do if he were to face her now, this high up is too far of a jump to do it safely. The best course of action is to finish the climb, it’ll grant him a better vantage point to get his bearings and height is always an advantage in combat. But when Marc turns around, looking up to his goal, there’s a crow— the largest crow he’s ever seen in his life, cawing loudly in his face. He’s startled, losing his grip on the rocks, feet slipping as they try to find purchase and he falls, grunting as he hears his flesh and bone tearing and cracking before he goes unconscious.

When Marc wakes sometime later, he hurts all over. There’s a splitting ache in his head, and a pain much sharper and dangerous sitting in his leg. He can handle pain, he’s been trained his whole life, day in and day out to handle much more than a slip in some gnarly wood. He blinks up to the trees, taking shallow breaths. If he can just lay here and gather his strength he should be able to get up.

What would his mother say if she could see him? All the things she said all his life, he imagines. Baseless shouts of this is not his calling, that he was meant to weld or harvest or research. That his attempts at living for Randall are in vain. Like he wasn’t bred for this. Like the mistakes he made has tainted his blood, taking away his right to hunt.

He tries to sit up and pain screams in his side. Had he broken some ribs? He lays back again, trying to get enough air to his brain so he doesn’t pass out again. His attempts are futile and soon, he drifts out again.

Somewhere in his mind, he can hear the graceful patter of feet near him. He feels when he is picked up by something as large as it is fluffy. A wolf maybe, taking him back to her cubs for a meal. He wonders if it would be such a bad way to go if it meant he’d never see his mother again.

A little while later his surroundings change. He’s somewhere soft and warm. Everything inside him is on edge. His instincts tell him that he’s unsafe, that he must get up and go, but his body is in no state to do so. He can’t even open his eyes, can’t speak a word, let alone take any steps.

Something—someone guides his head up, tipping a cup to his mouth. “Drink this,” A soft voice says to him gently.

He wants to resist but he’s weak to this person’s will. Whoever it is pours a steady stream of the liquid down his throat. It’s thick, warm, and tastes like black currants, mint and citrus. His body goes a little numb, relaxing further into the bed he’s laid in.

His pain waxes and wanes even as he sleeps. Though he isn't conscious, sometimes can feel the way his body cries and aches. He can feel the heat of healing, feel his muscles and bones scraping against each other as they slowly move back into place. He’s grateful for the braviety, happy to sink into a deeper place of unconsciousness, to run from the discomfort.

Marc wakes gradually. He first wiggles his toes, feeling the numbness in his right leg. He taps his fingers softly, enjoying the fullness of whatever bed he lies in. He tries to stretch his neck but he’s quite stiff and decides to just open his eyes. To do the inevitable and face his reality. When his eyes open, he frowns at the sight of paper boats hanging from the ceiling.

Paper boats, covered in wax, sailing under Hecate’s moon.

Marc knows right away where he is. He’s too warm. He can smell moss. The room glows from the outside in, candles lit but somehow he still feels the darkness. Maybe it is the deep dark reds and purples of her linens and furniture. Maybe it’s the white wolf that sits near the fireplace, eyes as dark as the night sky as it watches him. Or maybe the sense of dread as he takes in his surroundings, as he realizes he’s been made. He tenses, turning his head until his eyes meet hers.

Marc’s mouth drops open, going dry. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen— her soft mouth raised in a smile, her eyes clever. There are no words, just sensations that contradict each other. He feels wonky like his body can’t decide if he wants to stay or go. His brain tells him that he should fight, that he should leave. His heart pounds loudly in his chest as adrenaline builds. But in the pit of his stomach, there is nothing but ease as he looks into her eyes. All of this leaves him utterly confused and then some.

When he continues to stare at her quietly, she says, “You’re awake.”

He’s in the witch’s den and here she is, smiling down at him because she’s got him in her grasp. He’s not sure why she hasn’t killed him yet. He should be more afraid. He should kill her.

Where’s his weapon?

“Don’t. I don’t want to hurt you. Or paralyze you, drug you— maim you. Especially after fixing you up, I’d be destroying all my work,” She muses playfully, looking down into her book.

Marc’s eyes go wide with shock. Is she being funny?

“You know who I am,” He states, ignoring the way his heart starts to beat more quickly.

She nods, looking up from the pages, “The sigil on the crossbow made it pretty obvious.”

“You saved me anyway.”

“The wolves would’ve eaten you alive.”

“That would’ve been better than being taken hostage and killed by a witch.”

“You aren’t taken hostage— I’ve nursed you back to health. If I wanted you dead I wouldn’t waste my energy. I would’ve watched them feast,” She says matter of factly.

“Spoken like a true witch,” Marc scoffs.

She narrows her eyes at him, “You know nothing about me.”

“I know everything about you. My whole life is about you. Your kind,” He corrects.

“News flash Spector, I’m just as human as you are.”

“You might look human but our hearts don’t beat the same. You’re a monster, it’s in your blood.”

His words punch her in the gut. She knows that witch hunters are cruel, she’s been taught that all her life. Spell writing, potion brewing, ingredient harvesting, and the all-important learning to murder witch hunters in any and every fashion. There are many rules to be followed in witchcraft— regardless of one’s craft or coven but the most important of them?

If you see one, there should be one less in the world.

She knows they’re raised to hate her as much as she’s raised to hate them. But the hate never stuck. It was drowned in curiosity, in a yearning for peace and understanding. Because how dare she want to live a life that is fruitful and soft. How dare she see the humanity in them. She blows out a breath, eyes raising to the ceiling as she tries to keep her tears in. Even as her heart aches, it roars, begging to retaliate. Begging to lash out and hurt him. She ignores that urge like she always does, wiping at her eyes.

He sees the way her tears twinkle in the soft candlelight— she truly is beautiful. He quickly bats the thought away again. Beauty can only run so deep in her, she is a witch after all. It stops at the surface, he knows that. But, he feels bad for making her cry. She’s a witch, the bloodsucker of the human race. He shouldn’t care if she lives or dies, let alone if she cries. But before he can think better of it, an apology sits on his tongue. He doesn’t get the chance to say it.

“You’d prefer to be alone,” She sets down her grimoire and stands, reaching for a cloak that’s hung on the wall. “I’ll go to look for matching wood to repair your crossbow, part of it broke during your fall. Don’t try anything stupid, your leg is still setting.”

The white wolf that hasn’t taken its eyes off of him makes growls under its breath and Marc glares.

“Neither of us is going to hurt you. She simply wants you to be kinder to me. How a wolf knows that and you don’t….” She clicks her tongue in scolding, turning to look at the wolf, “Come along, Nimbus.”

He watches them leave, letting out a deep breath when he’s finally alone. He’s still confused. He doesn't understand her.

Kinder to her? She must not understand their dynamic— she must be out of her mind. That much is clear since she’d brought him back to her den to help him instead of killing him. Could he really trust that? A witch so unstable? She could’ve brought him here to nurse him back to health for a challenge, all to kill him again. That makes more sense, that aligns with all of his previous experiences. There must be ulterior motives for why she’s brought him here. He won’t fall into this trap.

let me know if you'd like to be tagged (18+ only)!

boundless taglist: @campingwiththecharmings, @grogusmum, @ninebluehearts, @mdnigts

[alkeneater]

E!2080 factbook: I escaped. What's next?

Are you a clone who escaped from a sect-like organization? You have no documents or money? Are you scared and don't know where to go? This little guide will help you decide what to do with your life in this situation! 

(disclaimer: this guide has been made specifically for my AU, don't use it to solve real life problems lol 🙂)

The housing problem. There are not as many people living in the Exclamation as it seems. For example, the main five were lucky to find an abandoned house. Yes, it’s possible, but only the main characters are lucky with this (just because they are the main characters 🤪)! There is another option: hotels, inns. But only if you have money. We'll look at how to earn them later. There are no homeless shelters here, as the entire budget was spent on anti-homeless architecture… The most popular option: living on the street, without a roof over your head. Oh yeah, many clones just live on the street, and it's fun! There are so many garbage cans around, and you can build anything out of garbage! A great example of a happy homeless person is Ponce. It seems that there is already a big smelly palace of soda cans and chewed gum in his junkyard.

The food problem. You are completely alone in this strange city. What can you eat to live at least one more day? Look around you! In this land of capitalism there’s food at every turn: restaurants, cafes, snack stalls. Oh, you don't have any money.… Well, your salvation is in the garbage again! Don't want to eat spoiled food? Hmm... are you ready to work for it? For example, you can find vending machines on the streets that can give you a soda or a candy bar for watching a bunch of ads. You won't believe it, but time is a more valuable thing than money, so few people use the free alternative. 

The money problem. Yeah, it's a big problem, but it's solvable. You can find a job. You don't have the documents to get a job... but in the dark future, few people care. You will be hired, but you will be paid three times less. You will be doing the dirtiest work, most likely. But you will have an income! You don't like it? Then do some begging. Maybe you'll get lucky. Look for lost credit cards on the streets. Look for soda bottles with a code under the lid, sometimes these codes give bonuses like real currency! Hmm... if you are a very evil clone, then you can always start stealing and deceiving people >:) I forgot to add... If electronics are available to you, I advise you to start mining cryptocurrency, it is used everywhere here. 

The socialization problem. It's hard to find new friends in the Exclamation city, so it's highly recommended to stay close to the clones you know! Join groups and help each other. Be careful if a stranger offers you friendship. They may turn out to be a fraud! If you are lucky enough to stumble upon one of the clones, make sure that they’re not brainwashed. Otherwise, you will be dragged back to the shadow tower or even worse…

The treatment problem. Oh, does your finger hurt? Did you catch a cold? Blood poisoning? Lost a limb? Well... you will only stay alive if you have MONEY for treatment. And no, you can't put a chocolate wrapper on the wound. It's dangerous. And don't look at me like that. Okay, do as you want, but the responsibility is on you!

The hygiene problem. This is not a problem, because your toilet is a street, and your bath is ponds and fountains :) If you have solved the housing problem, then you are doubly lucky.

The safety problem. DON'T TRUST ANYONE! Thieves, drug dealers, hackers, killer clowns, cultists, as well as the shadow police (who are looking for you) are walking around! The best option is to lay low. Find a weapon AT ANY COST! You will have to defend yourself on your own, because the police are no longer fighting for the people… 

The transport problem. We have flying, ground and underground cars! We have electric bicycles, motorcycles, roller skates, and skateboards. You can navigate through the air bridges that can connect two or more skyscrapers to each other. If your weight is light enough... Try to grab hold of a passing drone!

The entertainment problem. And you call that a problem? There are parks, a beach, museums, cinemas, bars, street art… But everything costs MONEY! Bro, capitalism has won... you can only watch the billboard ads for free. 

Hope this guide helped you and your chance of survival is high enough!! >v<

[behindthesemasks]

20

Chapter 19

Gabe is on a mission...and he has one destination...

It seemed to take Gabe an hour to drive from the original hotel to the one that Mel and the others had now holed up in. After circling a few different blocks, he found a parking garage without surveillance to leave the SUV in and texted Mel that he was on the way up. That was when he turned his phone off and headed down to the street below, to walk the remaining way to the hotel. No doubt Ambrose would be making sure that the GPS trackers on the SUVs were being watched and trying to triangulate their locations by their phones.  While he would be able to find the SUV Gabe had driven, where he’d gone when he’d left the garage would be something that would take him longer to figure out.  The fact that all the others with Melania had also turned off their phones indicated that they too had thought of this.  

It was after 2 AM and there were no other people or vehicles in the area.  The area appeared deserted, although he could see lights behind curtains on the floors above street level.  Even if there were surveillance cameras in some of the shops and buildings he was passing, Gabe had turned up his collar to make it hard to see his face. One more step in making it harder for Ambrose to track them down.  There were only four blocks he had to navigate, but he was hoping to keep to the shadows and make the trek as quickly as possible.  He had been trusted not to give away their location.

Fifteen minutes after he’d stepped onto the street, he walked into the hotel lobby. It was bright and filled with old-world elegance. Marble floors, ornate furniture, and live flowers on every table; this was not your budget hotel. Bypassing the front desk, much to the interest of the desk clerk, Gabe headed straight for the elevators. He knew the room number and wanted to waste no time hanging out in areas where he could attract attention. Now he knew he had been on camera, but there was no way that the others could have made it up to the room without being recorded as well. Hopefully, there wasn’t a way to back door into the hotel’s security system.  He knew the type of men Ambrose hired, and if there was, they’d do it.

When he’d finally made it up to the room, he could hear laughing inside. Obviously, even if Mel had been tired, she hadn’t fallen asleep just yet. He knocked on the door and found himself yanked inside when the door cracked open. Facing him were Mel, Alexander, and Cade all sitting on the couch with bottles of wine, gin, whiskey, and scotch on the table in front of them. Judging from their demeanor, they had all enjoyed some while waiting for him.

“Feeling more relaxed?” Gabe asked with a bemused smirk as Dez headed back over to the chair he’d been sitting in.

Mel was on her feet and on the way over to him before he could finish asking the question. “I am now, you finally made it!” Her arms wrapped around him and her face was buried in his chest.

Instinctively his arms went around her and he held her in close. Only now did he notice the slight tremor in her body. His eyes looked questioningly at Alexander and Cade. What the hell was going on?

“She tried to sleep; needless to say some things cause horrible nightmares,” Alexander answered the silent question that hung in the air. “So, we decided to drown her in booze.” His hand gestured to all of the bottles on the table.

“Did you know she has five fake identities in her purse? They’re complete with driver’s licenses, passports, and credit cards. FIVE. Do you think the boss will let us keep her?” Dez had obviously had too much whiskey, but he did get a half-chuckle out of Gabe.

“She’s not a fucking pet asshole. And no, I doubt Ambrose would allow us to take her on missions. Although you would have been proud Gabe, the girl intimidated the ever-loving hell outta the front desk clerk that was here when we got in. I think he may have wet himself.” Alexander chuckled as he poured himself some more scotch. 

Cade moved over to one of the chairs, stretching his long legs out to rest atop the coffee table, as Mel and Gabe moved to sit on the couch. Mel was still all but trembling and Alexander put his arm around her shoulders when she sat down. He looked over at Gabe with an expression that said he was worried about her, but that it wasn’t the time or place to say anything. Gabe nodded, this wasn’t a great situation.

“If you guys want to go back to the other hotel, I’ll understand.” Mel’s voice was soft and quiet, hardly the woman any of them had seen earlier in the day at the hotel. 

“I don’t know about the other boys, but I was hired to keep your ass safe while you were here. I don’t see how I’d be doing that if I left you here. If Ambrose decides to take the money back…I’m not worried.” Cade was the first to answer. There was no hesitation or doubt in his voice as he looked over at her with a slight cocky smirk on his face, and then gave her a wink.

“I think my boy said it well enough. If I was doubting, I wouldn’t have shown up beautiful.” Gabe used two fingers under her chin to turn her face towards him, then kissed her forehead.

“I was never here just because of a job from Ambrose,” Alexander added, causing Mel to look over at him with affection. He really was like a big brother, and just as protective. 

“Fuck, if I wanted to go back, I wouldn’t have driven that damned SUV all the way out to the airport and had to take a cab back.” Dez laughed, winking over at her. 

“If your money is taken back, I’ll still pay you,” Mel said softly, even as she knew that didn’t seem to be a concern for any of them. When Cade started to object, since he was the one who had mentioned money, she added, “I’m worth more than Nic now that my parents are dead. And it means nothing to me.” Cade reached over and squeezed her fingers. Damn, the girl was stronger than she looked, both inside and outside.

“That reminds me, how the hell did you guys get here from the coffee shop? It’s quite a hike.” Gabe asked as his hand took Mel’s to keep hers from shaking. “And did you leave all the weapons out at the airport? Really?” He looked over at Dez.

“She has a Porsche SUV bro. A FUCKING PORSCHE.” Cade laughed. “And all the weapons are in the back safely in their cases. Well, except for the two cases that have the tracking devices in them. They’re at the airport along with the SUV, just no weapons in them.” He laughed. They had swept everything that they transferred between vehicles. There had been no tracing devices in any of it. All of them, knowing Nic and Ambrose, didn’t want to take any chances. 

Gabe nodded as he saw Mel’s head starting to nod. “I think it’s bedtime for you before you fall asleep on Alexander and me, then we’re pinned to the couch all night.” She laughed as he helped her up and to the bedroom on the right side of the small living room that had two beds in it. There was a bedroom on the other side that had two beds in it as well. He helped Mel off with her hiking boots and up onto the bed. Exhaustion, emotions, and the liquor were starting to have a strong effect on her. 

Alexander came in behind them, kicking off his shoes and flopping on the other bed in the room. “I’m taking this one, Dez snores when he’s drunk. You can have one of the beds in the room across the living room. Cade is going to take the first watch for the next few hours.” His words were slightly slurred as he was obviously drifting off to sleep.

Gabe looked down at Mel who was starting to drift off. He leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead. How could Klaus have been such an idiot as to not listen and just hang up on her? Furthermore, how was Erik an even bigger idiot for what he’d done? She was a woman who proved she wasn’t afraid and could be just as fierce as they could. Shaking his head, he began to back up.

Gorgeous blue eyes cracked open and looked up at him. “Don’t go yet, just sit here till I fall asleep? Please?” The look in her tired eyes tore at him. Damn it if he wasn’t a sucker for a damsel in distress. He saw Alexander chuckle as he rolled over, giving him a thumbs up as he did. Sitting down on the bed next to where she was lying, he took her hand in his and leaned back against the headboard. He prayed the next day wouldn’t be nearly as long or as sideways as the previous 24 hours had been. 

Soon Gabe felt his head starting to drop. He started to move off of the bed but looked down at his fingers intertwined with hers and changed his mind. Instead, he slipped down to lay flat on his back next to her. A soft smile formed on his lips as he felt her move closer to him and he drifted off to sleep. Fuck what any of the rest of them thought, Klaus may have promised to keep her safe but he was actually going to do it.

Just over three hours later, the soft click of the lock on the door to the suite signaled that someone was coming in. A lone figure slipped through the barely cracked door, carefully closing it behind him. The feel of a gun barrel at his temple told him instantly that his entry had not gone undetected. As he waited to find out who it was that had gotten guard duty, a slow smirk crossed his lips.

“You’d better have one damn good excuse for being in here asshole, because if you don’t you’re going to wish you had never opened that door.” The end of the barrel pressed more firmly into his skull as he heard Cade’s voice low and growling.

“Seeing as my grandfather is paying your fucking ass, I think I have a good enough excuse to come in if I want. Although how the fuck you all got here is something I’ve got to hear.” Nic’s quiet voice held amusement. It had taken him what seemed like forever to even find a clue where any of them had gone.

“Shit bro, you’re lucky I asked questions first. How the fuck did you find us?” Cade holstered his weapon and moved closer to Nic so that they’re voices wouldn’t wake the other four up.

“Gabe parked his SUV four blocks away. When he stopped answering his phone, I went hunting.” Nic shook his head. “Y’all were fucking hard as hell to find. One female with three bodyguards does make an impression on a desk clerk though.” He chuckled. “Two rooms? Who’s where?”

“Dez is over there. The door is closed because his snoring was about to drive me insane. Alexander, Mel, and Gabe are all over there.” Cade gestured as he talked. He had sobered up an hour or so before and was now annoyingly clear-headed and awake, albeit with a massive headache.

“You know how she got out? And how did you end up here with your SUV at the airport?” Nic looked over at Cade as he leaned his back against the wall.

“Window in your grandfather’s office in the suite, along the ledge to the fire escape that was one room over, then down to the alleyway. Then she just walked until she got to a coffee shop. From there she rented the car and got ahold of Gabe. Gabe texted us. We met up with her at the coffee shop. When she got tired, Dez took the SUV to the airport and got a cab back here with the cash she gave him. We had already transferred all the weapons into the back of her SUV, so it was safe for him to leave it. Then she drove us here. She was the lead the whole time bro, organized the whole damn thing. Did you know she has five false identities?” Cade almost laughed as he talked.

“More than five, and yes I did. Although apparently, grandfather’s men have made some new ones because I couldn’t find a trace of the old ones. I only got the key up here because I scared the desk clerk more than the rest of you did.” Nic answered, pausing for a moment. “I wasn’t here. Understand? Tell none of them. She’s safe, you’re all alive. That’s all I cared about. I’ll keep grandfather off your asses, but you’re going to have to show up eventually. Let me know when you are and I’ll buffer the reception.”

Cade looked over at Nic with a newfound respect. He had expected to get dressed down for going off grid and helping Mel, not that he cared, but he hadn’t expected Nic to cover for their asses. Not that he was going to turn it down. “Never saw ya bro. I gotta ask though….how insane have Ambrose and Klaus gone?” 

“Grandfather is convinced one or more of you are with Mel. This Oglesby though, he’s a major player and violent and vicious. He’d kill Mel if it gave him a tactical advantage with grandfather and Alexander, so I wouldn’t say he’s exactly calm.” Nic looked over in the dim light of the room, the expression on his face clear to Cade. Nic was worried. Ambrose was worried. The main thing was not to let this asshole know that Alexander and Mel were in the same place.

“Klaus is a mess. I don’t know if Gabe told you but he damn near shattered Erik’s jaw. Grandfather had to fly in a medic to at least set it enough for the moment so that he wasn’t in so much pain he couldn’t think. He also broke his cheekbone and gave him a concussion. The doc thinks Erik may have a couple of broken ribs too. That was from less than a half-dozen punches. I think that Erik’s lucky that the blow to the throat didn’t crush his windpipe. Erik is having to use the laptop to type out his answers to questions at the moment. Although threats of letting Klaus back in the room are more effective than anything in getting his cooperation.” He saw Cade’s eyes go wide in the gloom and nodded. “So I think that tells you how he’s doing. He’s no less upset now than he was when he about knocked me and grandfather over to get to Erik. We’ve had to keep Klaus separated from grandfather, they do nothing but butt heads because Klaus is being kept in the hotel and not out looking for Mel. They’re going to end up shooting one another if they’re left alone too long.” Nic sighed. “ That she hasn’t called or contacted him is driving him out of his mind. He’s like a caged lion. So yeah.” Nic shook his head lightly. He felt for the other man, truly he did. There was just nothing that could be done at the moment to make the situation better without pissing off his cousin. Klaus had made his own bed when he hung up on her, he’d just have to lie in it a bit longer.

“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full bro. But hey, you think in the future we could get the short chick to come with us on missions?” Cade tried to lighten the mood. “She’s good; I mean she’s damn good. She put the fear of God in Andreas, she slipped out of a locked room and had you chasing your tail, and she can pull off a cover identity as well as any of us. We could use her.” 

“I take it you want to have Ambrose committed to the lunatic asylum. He would go all kinds of batshit crazy.” Nic laughed. He had to admit, she might have picked up too much over the years from being around him and their grandfather. “Now, before any of them wake up, or I’m out of contact for too long and they start checking up on me…I’m getting my ass out of here. You need anything…ANYTHING…you call ME, no one else.”

“Got it, bro. Be careful, if there could be a target on Mel’s back from this Oglesby, there could be one on yours too. We’ll keep her safe, don’t worry.” Cade nodded once toward Nic. They were friends, more like brothers, and as much as he would guard Mel’s ass, he’d guard Nic’s back as well.

With that Nic slipped out of the room as almost silently as he slipped in. Now he knew that his cousin was safe, it was time to hunt Oglesby.

banner from @cafekitsune

[seasonalmoss]

Amanda the adventurer post TV show Headcanons

here are some of me and my twins @thequasarwinds headcanons for Wooly and Amanda after they escape the TV show in our AUs. anyone is free to use these with credit!

(This isn’t really a HC just a thing in our AUs) Wooly and Amanda have altered appearances from their original bodies, Wooly is the most notable as he basically just looks like a Sheep furry, but Amanda has some slight changes too

Upon first ever leaving the TV show they have a short period of intense confusion, delirium and slight amnesia before everything starts to go back to them

they’re memories of before the TV show is incredibly vague and they both feel a level of disconnect from them. Almost as if they’re experiencing someone else’s memories.

^^ Because of this Amanda chooses to go by Amanda instead of Rebecca as she feels almost completely disconnected to the girl she once was. But she still would have bouts of completely hating the name Amanda due to its negative associations but feeling so disconnected from Rebecca it causes her to struggle a lot with depressive like symptoms and identity issues (though she canonically already has symptoms like that so I guess the preexisting symptoms grows worse)

^^ Wooly is similar except he has less memories of who he was so he doesn’t have any name to feel “disconnected” from. The name “Wooly” is simply what he’s use with and what he’s more comfortable with due to this fact.

^^ more AU specific)) Wooly barely has any memories before the show, actually, mostly just feelings. Due to this the show is sort of all he knows, especially regarding his identity

Wooly struggles a lot with personalization, he struggles with what he exactly likes, what his hobbies are and has a very poor sense of self.

Amanda (and most likely Wooly too but we just don’t have enough information on who he is and where he is in canon to say much yet) has pretty bad scaring due to her rotting. Most of it is around her hands feet and mouth area, leaving her walking with a limp and in need of assistance for long periods that she’s moving.

^^ because of this she at times has some kind of cane/ crutch for the long periods of walking/ running. It’s probably very personalized for her, with it being decorated in different kinds of stickers and painted in exiting colors.

Amanda has a slight level of aching and a form of chronic pain in her feet and hands, especially in the areas that were more rotted away

they both have a sensitivity to noises, bright lights, and tactile sensations due to how simplistic everything was in the TV show, the detail in the real world can make them overwhelmed and nauseous easily.

^^ Wooly gets a lot more overstimulated then Amanda however, due to the fact he was the most accepting of being in a TV show and his habit of being completely dissociated while in it causes him to be not use to a lot of sensory stimulation (though other factors could’ve caused this too), so he often can’t handle a lot of simple activities like going to a slightly busy restaurant.

Wooly struggles a lot with complex roadmaps and city maps as a whole and has a hard time remembering it all. He especially is not use to this level of complexity since his role of the side kick didn’t really allow him to build up those skills. He gets overwhelmed by the number of streets and is quick to get delirious by it, especially if he’s alone without Amanda or anyone to guide him. He’s use to there at the very least being a viewer who can help him out.

(This is also more of an AU thing and not a HC but people are free to use it as well, it’s useful for visual story telling and thematic purposes) Wooly has small little horns that is tied to his age as well as his emotions. Since he’s a child so therefore a lamb it’s only short little nubs that will grow gradually as he ages. But it’s also tied to his emotional well being and development as a independent person (he struggles with being his own person) if he goes through something particularly traumatic again they will grow but at the same time if he goes through something especially healing to him or happy they will also grow. (Amanda is kind of jealous of these horns since she finds them cool but she tries to convince herself its not and usually tries to keep it to herself. It’s hard for her though since Wooly is honestly stoked to have horns and keeps “rubbing it in” )

Amanda and Wooly are still trying to live a normal life, so they do (at least try to) go to school. But among a lot of other things they feel disconnected from their peers

Amanda especially feel’s disconnected and almost gets afraid to go to school, she’s afraid she’s going to hurt them, as the only time she really interacted with kids her age or kids any younger was in the TV show when she was forced to lure them away. She also feels simultaneously older yet younger then all of her class mates. She’s also an emotional unregulated child, so she’s afraid she’s going to have outbursts and hurt them.

Wooly on the other hand tries as hard as he can to integrate into normal society but it hasn’t been easy for him. (Besides the obvious of him literally being a sheep) It’s hard for him to connect with a lot of his classmates due to a multitude of factors, but he still desperately tries as hard as he can to act like he’s just a completely normal kid. He almost wants to forget all about the TV show in favor of something more normal.

Wooly is a teachers pet and is completely terrified of breaking a lot of the rules. He’s also the kind of person to remind the teacher about tonight’s homework, but not to be annoying he genuinely believes in the usefulness of homework and “educational prowess” it’s also a rule and he’s afraid of any of his teachers getting fired if he doesn’t.

Amanda is the most mischievous yet also the most generally educated compared to the rest of her classmates. Her teachers often don’t know what to do with her, so they often opt for her to try and teach the kids around her table when they have an assignment she already knows. Amanda likes feeling like “the smartest” but she also absolutely hates having to teach her class mates as it makes her fears even worse. She complies however since she is at heart just a helpful sweet little girl.

Wooly and Amanda don’t like eating meat and has a hard time eating it if they have to. The association with the Meatman and what the meats were is too much for them. Wooly acts more openly squeamish and nauseous while Amanda acts more scared and repulsive.

there’s probably a whole lot more Headcanons that I missed but that’s what I remember! I’ll probably update this as time goes! Hope you all liked them! I… uh- wasn’t expecting a lot of them to be so sad? I’m sorry about that ^^,

[anthropologyruinseverything]

Summerslam venting - my opinions are based on personal experiences and feelings.

I’m a Roman fan but honestly this is getting old and stale and I’ll completely lose interest if he isn’t at Summerslam. (And listen, for a dude with his health issues I’d be happy to hear he was gonna mostly retire and make movies. Get your paper while you can babe!) I agree with a number of folks here that they’ve missed so much in regard to tension building between Roman and Solo. I just don’t care. And of course he’s gonna cheat against Cody. It’s a classic bad guy vs. the hero set up.

At least they gave Damian something to fight for. I am loving the new angle. But if he loses to a N@z* who called him street trash I’m gonna throw up because you’re just not hiding it at this point. Fair warning, you will not find any love for Gunther on my page. Yes, he’s great at what he does but until his character changes I’m not cheering. (Stood across the protest line from too many of the real-deal bad guys who sing his praises online at this point.)

Rhea’s gonna have to face the monster she herself created in Liv. I’m interested in the long term implications for Judgement Day and her relationship with Dominik. But it’s Mami’s fault so it’ll be satisfying to see what happens and I have faith in these performers to put on an amazing show.

Bayley and Nia lacks the same level of emotion but I also think it will be a great match. Nia is better than a lot of people give her credit for and with this last title run Bayley has won me over. Normally I leave the room when Tiffany Stratton is on the television so hopefully her fake ass won’t be too involved.

Drew, Punk and Seth will be fun to watch but they’ve screwed with other storylines so many times I’m just ready for it to be over. I think the highlight will be Seth’s outfit.

I want Sami to beat Bron. I’m a sucker for heart and hard work paying off. Bron is Goldberg 2.0 and I find him just as interesting as his predecessor, meaning I’d rather watch paint dry. He’s got potential so I hope they don’t stick with the angry meathead persona for long. I figure they’re setting Sami up to lose, probably due to being drawn back into Bloodline mess with Jey. It would be almost okay if he and Jey got a nice run as a tag team together.

Side note if you made it this far:

I was so excited for Jey’s single run. It’s personal and I know that’s silly but I FOUGHT TOOTH AND NAIL to escape an abusive family and make a life for myself. It really spoke to me to see him do the same sort of thing. And now, it’s all been wasted because he’s almost assuredly been nuked at every turn so he can go back to the Bloodline drama. He deserves better, deserves a better singles story and a title. It’s sad he probably won’t ever get it at this point. Like I said before, I will watch a different promotion if he goes to it.

Anyway, thanks for listening. My couple of 7 day, 18hr a day work weeks are coming to a close so I’ll have way more time to work on my fanfics and novels. I’m considering entry to a competition for some of my original stories so I may post a few blurbs for feedback. If you’re waiting for a request or just a story update, that’s what I’ll be working on! Some very much needed stress relief.

Thanks for giving me some space to share my thoughts and my work!