#this will probably my first job in a few months so.

[bring-back-bonus-features]

Yes! I wish someone would have told me that when I was a student. In high school, my two passions were theatre and robotics. I was not good enough to make a career out of theatre so I chose robotics. I went to a specialized engineering school for my degree. About halfway through I realized it wasn't really my passion anymore but I felt it was too late to change.

Side note, I was getting more into the technical side of theatre which I had no idea you could get a degree in (and they didn't offer it at my school).

I get a degree in robotics and start working a 9-5 office job which I hate for several reasons. The open office floor plan is loud. I had anxiety attacks in the bathroom frequently my first few months until I figured out that most people wore headphones all day. Also, I am really bad at mornings.

Then covid happened and we were all working remotely and it was my dream come true. I've fought for it ever since. I even threatened to quit and was able to get a disability accommodation to work full time remote while most people at my company had to come back to the office.

So I sort of lucked into my ideal schedule. And tbh if I decided to give that up for one of my actual passions, technical theatre, it would probably be hell on my body.

When you're a kid/teenager everyone expects you to base your career around your passions and interests and that works for a lot of people but it's not the full story. I wish they would also teach students to consider the lifestyle that career would require.

Like... if I had to choose a passion and work a career around it, I would probably work at a zoo or aquarium. But those jobs require a lot of schooling with STEM classes (which I hate) and a lot of early mornings (which make me feel ill) and an obligation to work in person with no flexibility to move (which makes me depressed). So even if I'd enjoy caring for animals all day, it's not a good career path for me.

My current job is travel writing, which is not my passion. I like it, but it's not my passion. But I work a flexible schedule, I can live anywhere, I get a travel stipend, and my team is really chill. So it works for me.

Rather than solely focusing on "What topics do you like?" I think we should ask students "Of the careers that suit your preferred lifestyle, which are the most interesting?"

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

okay hear me out…butch4butch Sevika where Sevika is a power bottom???👀 reader is taller and stronger than her but very shy and intimidated by her🙈

Pairing: Powerbottom!Sevika x gentle giant-service top! reader

Warnings: ns/fw, fingering, cunnilingus, grinding/dry humping, smoking, mentions of violence, and horny lesbian activityyyy

Word count: 3k

A/N: Love you. Love this. You have come to the right place for this one, my friend. The lack of butch4butch Sevika content is criminalll if that woman has a type it begins with D and ends in Y-K-E-S. Anyways, how appropriate is it that my first fic is butch4butch Sevika smut. Checks out. (that being said, it is my first fic so you freaks betta be NICE) Now without further ado…

You Have No Idea

By ButchVampireHeimerdinger

It was the slow ending to an eventful shift at the last drop. Customers were in good spirits all night, likely due to a sudden influx of Piltie goods some gang had rattled up through more or less honorable means and was making its way through town. In any case, the energy was contagious and it had you, the buff and generally even-tempered server/bouncer, doing things you didn’t normally do. Like drink on the job — just a beer you had been nursing for over forty minutes — and fraternize with patrons. Y’know, other than the obligatory how are you, do you wanna pay out now or open a tab. Real actual conversations -- which led you to number three on the list of Things You Don’t Normally Do; you were hunched over the bar playing Texas Hold ‘Em with three regulars. Two were men, you didn’t remember their names, but they always came to the bar at about this time. A package deal — they snickered in your direction as a nearby shady-looking customer walked out on his tab.

“Hey, isn’t that your cue, tough guy?” The man gave you a patronizing sort of eyebrow raise as he dealt the next round.

Technically, it was. You got hired pretty much on account of your physique — you were 6’3” and a tank, always had been. Broad shoulders, biggest girl on the playground growing up, you gained muscle at the drop of a hat. You didn’t even try. But it was all for show. You were more of a lover than a fighter. Sometime in the first few months of the job the staff discovered you were better equipped to work inside the bar. Customers liked you because you were polite, a breath of fresh air from the culture of animosity that permeated the undercity. Still, it didn’t help your ego in situations like this. ”Hey, you don’t know what she’s got under her sleeve.” The third voice at the table spoke up. The right hand of Zaun. Sevika.

She had been a regular since before you started and probably would be long after. You had heard some pretty nasty stories about her and the things she was capable of. But when she came up to your counter for a drink, she came without malintent, always respectful to the waitstaff. It was disarming. Tonight, especially, your eyes lingered over her toned shoulders and sharp collarbones.You wanted to run your hands over them, to see how her body would react. And maybe it was the house IPA you had been drinking, but probably not.

Sevika gestured toward your dwindling pile of poker chips with her chin as she looked down, analyzing her hand. “Clearly, she must be the type to play the long game.” This earned her another light fit of snickers from bar idiots one and two, but they were easily impressed. You rolled your eyes.

Sevika raised two chips. The table matched. She spoke again.

“So, tough guy, do those arms of yours get you any female attention? Since you’re obviously not using them for any other tactile purpose,” her eyes traveled to the empty seat where the tab-skipper had been sitting.

You shrugged, suddenly warm and very aware of your body and not sure where to rest your gaze. “I get around.”

For some reason, tweedles dum and dee found this hilarious, and howls of laughter followed. You slapped your hand over your heart and feigned a look of deep hurt, to mask the bit of real hurt you were feeling. Yeah, it had been a while, but surely not long enough to warrant that response.

“Is it that implausible?”

Sevika chuckled and shook her head, but her expression was good-natured.

“Just make your move, Casanova.”

You had a full house. Three aces. Two kings. You matched, and didn’t raise.

Sevika raised, the men matched, and you folded.

The table revealed their hands and Sevika won the pile with a straight. Not a bad hand, but the round would’ve been yours if you had taken the risk. Sevika clicked her tongue, scolding you, which made your palms sweat. You averted her gaze and became suddenly interested in wiping down the bar.

Following your pitiful defeat, the two guys payed out, leaving the bar empty save for you, Sevika, and a couple stragglers who always stayed until morning and probably didn’t have anywhere else to spend the night. To your surprise, the woman beckoned you over once more. Something in your heart lifted. Something in your pants dropped.

“Blackjack?” She pushed the cards toward you, and her dominant sort of gaze made you feel, once again, compelled to do what she asked.

You won the first few rounds. Sevika was risky to a fault. If it wasn’t 21 exactly, trust she would draw. And she always made you the dealer, watching your hands intently, hungrily, even, as you shuffled. The third round was a tie, but she didn’t have anything left to raise.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You win this round and I’ll spread it around that I walked out on my tab, and you chased me down and kicked my ass for it. Should prevent other situations like our friend earlier, at least for a while.”

“Are my bouncer abilities really that pathetic?” You picked at the side of your nails. Sevika’s gaze pierced through you and you found it difficult to meet her eyes. But you didn’t necessarily hate the way her eyes took you in. Slowly and deliberately, like you were a battle map and she was trying to parse out her strategy.

“And if you win?” You looked up, all innocent. Maybe you imagined it, but your doe eyes seemed to rile her up a little bit. Something in the way her jaw shifted, the way she rubbed her flesh palm on her pants.

“Already planning for defeat? See, this is exactly your problem. You’re talking through a universe where you lose before we’ve even started.” She shoved her pile towards you again.

“Deal ‘em.” She commanded, you obliged.

“I’m serious! I just wanna know what I’m agreeing to. Fools rush in, and all that.” Your voice made everything sound like a question. With her, it was. Sevika was hard to figure out.

“You’re cute. If I win, I want…” The woman took a hit of the blunt she was holding and used it to gesture, her movements creating little loops of smoke that rose and dissipated. Her eyes followed them, and not you. For once.

“I want an hour. With you. N’ those arms.” You jerked while shuffling, accidentally knocking over your beer in your surprise. You picked it up quickly, hoping she didn’t notice.

“You serious?”

“Deadly. Fuck me up, Casanova.”

She won. Wasn’t even close. Three sevens, if you could believe it. As soon as you slapped the last seven down, you both shot up from the counter at light speed and she followed you to the back.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Her voice was low and husky, but with a little something else.

“Sore winner,” was all you could think to respond. You shoved her lightly. She shoved you harder with her prosthetic arm. The two of you kept at it, pushing and shoving back and forth as you practically raced to The Last Drop’s back office. Play-fighting, like you were “one of the boys,” but it had a bit of a bite to it. Like you wanted to eat each other alive.

The office was hardly used except for the rare moments when staff wanted to crunch numbers. Or, of course, engage in extra-professional affairs like this one. That couch had seen some things. You fiddled with the key for what was apparently a moment too long.

“I’m getting bored out here, Casanova.” You looked into Sevika’s eyes through her thick brows, a couple inches below yours. You slammed your shoulder into the door and it gave way immediately, with a satisfying bang as it swung open. Sevika followed, grabbing you by the shirt as she brought your lips down to hers, hard, and kicked the door shut behind her without looking.

She dragged you toward her, her back pressed against the peeling drywall. Her tongue dragged against your bottom lip and something deep in your pelvis vibrated in anticipation. One of your hands reached up to the wall, to keep you both steady. Sevika grabbed your other hand and guided it under her tank top. You squeezed her breast, tracing over her nipple with your thumb. Your bodies pressed together and you brought your knee in between hers, rolling your hips forward and pressing your leg into her crotch. She moaned into your mouth. Like her voice, it was deep and gravelly.

You set a pace. Her hips seemed to agree with it, bucking upwards to get that friction where she needed it most. Her hands gripped your waist and hips as she started to manhandle you, making you move faster against her. Your kissing was frantic and sloppy, like there was anger behind it. Your lips shined with her spit, and you moved to kiss up and down her neck. She reacted with a throaty panting noise when you got to a sensitive spot — a fleshy and soft area where her jaw met with her neck. You twisted your head to the side and downward to get better access, to fully exploit that weakness. Without fully thinking through your actions, your sucking collapsed into biting. You drove your teeth into her neck and Sevika’s jaw shot upward as her panting became gasping. She grabbed the back of your head and pushed it harder against her neck to say what she couldn’t; more, more, more.

Your hands fumbled with her belt and she noticeably did not help you with it. It was like she got a kick out of watching you struggle. You finally got them unzipped and you reached under to start palming her through her boyshorts. She had already soaked through. Good.

You pulled away to look down at her again while tugging lightly at her waistband. You raised your eyebrows to ask, May I? Chin still tilted upward, she nodded, huffed out a “yuh” sort of noise, and hooked her leg around the back of yours to bring your chests closer, all rough.

You pulled down the panties and your fingers dipped into her folds. Sevika’s eyebrows knitted even closer together, if that was possible. You continued sucking and working that spot on her neck. Her lips were against your ear and you heard her panting grow more desperate, more melodic; whines and vocalizations mixed with the gruff and grainy rhythmic in-and-out of her breaths.

Your middle and ring finger sort of skated all around her entrance, just barely avoiding her swollen clit. You took in the sight — Sevika’s heaving chest, her eyes closed as she chased the pleasure you were giving her. Her moans grew to something not exactly desperate, that wasn’t like her, but deranged and shameless. She panted like she was breathing fire. And like she didn’t care if all of The Last Drop could hear her, even though they probably couldn’t.

The pulse of her hips grew a little more erratic and she shifted her legs like she was ready to switch positions. You gestured subtly with your head toward the couch, and she dragged you toward it.

The woman collapsed on it and rested her arms outward, elbows relaxed on top like it was a throne. She leaned as far back as she could as you helped work her pants and boyshorts all the way down until they dropped to her ankles. She pulled her shirt off with both hands, pulling it up and over from the back of the neckline. She threw the tank top to the side and all of the air left your lungs, as you took in the sight of her upper body. Where you were buff, she was cut. Unlike you, Sevika didn’t have the type of figure that was imposing simply by nature — her physique came from blood, sweat, and tears. She had the body of a bruiser, of someone who spent their life fighting. The Sevika before you made you realize why some of the patrons kept their distance. But it somehow made you want to get closer. It made you want to please her, and to be good at it.

Sevika had a manspread going and you dropped to your knees in front of her. But she wasn’t having that — not yet. With her flesh hand she grabbed you by the throat and dragged you up to her lips for another messy kiss. Your teeth clashed together and when your tongues made contact, you felt those butterflies low in your pelvis. You moaned into her mouth instinctively, and it came out higher and breathier than you expected. You felt her lips form a slight smile against yours and she released her hold on your neck, making you drop down to your knees. You were certain the impact must have shook the entire city block.

Breathing heavy, you went to start kissing and sucking at her inner thigh, but she tilted your chin upward to look at her. Breathless, she commanded,

“Take your shirt off for me, Casanova. I wanna see those arms while you… Yeah.”

You fought the smile forming and stripped for her. You took off your tank top and sports bra the same way she had — in one fluid motion, from the back. You were caught between a sudden wave of self consciousness and the urge to draw it out, to put on a show for her. You settled at maintaining eye contact as you subtly flexed for her, and placed your broad hands on her knees. Sevika smiled, all smug as she reached over to a nearby discarded vest, brought out the rest of her blunt, and lit up as her eyes poured over your exposed upper body. She inhaled deep using her metal arm, and with her flesh hand she traced over your biceps, satisfied.

All confident, you started on her inner thighs, taking your time. When your lips finally connected with her wet cunt, you heard her make a sharp exhale through her teeth. You kept going, first going over it all with a flat tongue, drinking in the moment, then using your tongue to explore her folds. Sevika let out a satisfied hum as you started sucking at her swollen, neglected clit.

That was when you brought your fingers up to her entrance, casually tracing, nothing else. That pissed her off.

Sevika slapped the top of the couch to get your attention. Your eyes snapped up to hers as she leaned forward to get all up in your face, with her signature sneer on.

“Did someone pay you to waste my time?”

You froze.

“That wasn’t rhetorical, I’m seriously asking you if some outside party with an interest in distracting me paid you to bring me here and do absolutely nothing with me.” You raised your eyebrows, eyes all wide and innocent. That made her groan, and she covered her face with one hand, your puppy eyes making her feel horny and desperate and a little guilty about snapping at you.

“Just. Fuck. Me.” She collapsed backward and you didn’t respond, just immediately did what she asked. You pushed your two fingers inside her without warning — hard. Again she exhaled through her teeth.

With your mouth, you continued giving her clit attention, and you pushed in and out of her, fingertips maintaining contact with her front wall, the one closest to you.

The sounds she made were pornographic, and it made you aware of the pool of slick that had established itself in the crotch of your boxers. Listening to her body, you gradually picked up the pace and you found Sevikas hand weave through your hair, grabbing you roughly at the scalp and pressing you closer and closer still.

Her face was angled toward the sky as she whined, her metal hand gripping the cushion tight enough to create what was probably going to be permanent ripples in the fabric. You brought her closer and closer and her grip on your head tightened as she bucked her hips upward, essentially fucking herself on your tongue and fingers. She occasionally let out a depraved vocalization that a trained ear might recognize as “fuck,” “don’t stop,” and “faster-FUCK faster.”

Until the pulse inside her cunt became erratic, and you felt a familiar tremor in her legs. You didn’t let up. You started fucking her deeper, with more pressure, using your tongue to play with her clit faster. Sevika’s thighs involuntarily snapped up to trap your head and you brought your hands up to brace them. Your tongue still moving as she cried out, loud and animalistic as she rode out her orgasm. Her thighs held you so tight against her pussy that you couldn’t escape if you tried, and the strength would probably have suffocated someone more petite.

Eventually, Sevika’s cries retreated back into deep panting and her legs dropped back to the floor, still trembling and spasming. She looked down at you, eyes half lidded, and gave you what could have been interpreted as a smile. She spread her arms back out on the top edge of the couch cushions, somehow still holding the half-smoked blunt. You shook your hair and a bit of ash fell out, which made you giggle. You were so invested in fucking her, you hadn’t noticed the active fire hazard against your skin the whole time.

With her chin, the woman gestured to the spot on the couch next to her. You settled in, your sides touching and your head leaning back against where her bicep was resting. She wrapped that arm around to bring the blunt to your lips.

“You can finish it, I don’t like the roach,” she said, and you obliged. You took a deep hit from her fingers and the last fiery bits assaulted your lungs, but you liked it. Sevika ashed it out on the couch, as if you hadn’t already desecrated it enough. You settled into a comfortable silence and she allowed you to lean your head on her pec, still uncovered. Until she spoke up.

“Promise me something, Casanova.” Her voice hoarse and gravelly from the earlier activities.

“Mm?” you responded. She wrapped her arm around you to reach up and ruffle your hair.

“Promise me you’ll never get good at cards.” You sucked your teeth and sneered back at her, giving her a hefty shove, which she gladly returned with equal force.

[withwritersblock]

Oh! Darling pt. 5

~Oh! Darling by The Beatles~

Author's Note: somewhat requested lol! I was rewatching the Faceoff series and reminded myself that someone asked for something like this so here you go! Anyways, hopefully more for this series coming up. Summary: Quinn's Faceoff episode Warnings: Canucks losing against Edmonton lol Word Count: 1,630 Quinn Hughes x fm!reader

It completely slipped his mind that he had agreed to film for the Face Off series until he started seeing the advertisements for it everywhere. Now, himself and his girlfriend were sitting together and watching it together. Ellie was in his lap, drinking a bottle. 

They already watched the first few episodes of the series and he was shocked on how it actually ended up looking. The series was actually entertaining. But now it was his episodes and he was terrified. He agreed to do it because they begged him to do it. His story was special because he was a young captain and a new dad.

“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked as she stood up from the couch, jogging towards the kitchen. He glanced down towards the little girl in his arms before he looked back towards Y/N. 

“Water’s fine, love,” he muttered as he looked into his daughter’s sleepy eyes as she continued to finish the bottle. “I’m pressing play,” he let out as he reached toward the remote. 

“Wait!” she called out as she took a hold of a soda and a water bottle. He chuckled as he pressed play anyway. “Hey!” she let out while laughing as she jogged towards the couch. Cautiously, she placed the bottle of water beside him and she kept her soda in her hand. He chuckled as he pulled the bottle from Ellie’s mouth. He brought her up and began to delicately pat her back. 

Instantly, once he saw himself on the screen, his face scrunched up. “Oh god,” he muttered.

Y/N grinned widely as she saw him on the screen, “Oh stop, look how cute you are,” she said as she inched towards him. Delicately, she tapped her hand against the top of his thigh. 

On the screen, he started cooking and talking about his journey of being captain. “Probably read 20 to 25 books this year because I felt at the start of the year that with becoming captain, it was a lot for me-” he explained on the screen. Y/N lips fell into a pout. 

Saying that it was a lot for him was an understandment. He was overwhelmed from the moment he was given the C. He came home that morning after the conversation with Rick and told her that he was becoming captain. At first, it was exciting and he was confident that he could do a good job. But as the preseason went on, he was shy and nervous. But as he explained in the episode, he started to grow into it. 

“What was it like having this new role on the team and this new role in life?” the interviewer asked. Quinn tossed his head back and laughed. 

“Definitely been a hard year but I wouldn’t change a single thing about it,” he explained before running his fingers through his hair. “It was really difficult because it was hard being away from my girlfriend; because obviously pregnancy is really hard but she was great,” he explained.

The screen started showing clips of Quinn and newborn Ellie. Y/N was sitting on the couch beside Ellen as quinn was holding Ellie against his chest. She was only a few weeks old when the camera crew was there. 

“Your daughter was born a month before the playoffs, what was that like?” the interviewer continued. 

Quinn smiled softly on the screen, his eyes lighting up in the process. “When we found out about Ellie, we realized pretty quickly that the timing wasn’t great. But our families were in town for the first few weeks. So while I was away on a roadie our families were here and supporting Y/N,” he took in a deep breath. 

“You would’ve had no idea Quinn was a new dad. He was still Quinn Hughes and he was still a huge presence on and off the ice,” Rick said on the screen, a chuckle falling from his lips. “He wanted to talk about his daughter all of the time but you could tell that if he did, it would break his heart a little bit,” he explained.

Quinn clenched his jaw as he shifted his gaze down towards his daughter. Y/N pouted her lips as she reached her hand over and ran her fingers through his hair.

“But that’s why we chose him as captain. He can seperate his personal life from being on the ice. He doesn’t let it effect what he does and that’s what you need from a captain. But you know that even if he didn’t let it effect him, he was constantly thinking about his girls,” Rick continued. 

Quinn smiled softly as he continued running his hand across Ellie’s back. “Can we move on to Trouba or something,” Quinn mumbled as he looked towards Y/N.

The screen continued to show a smiley Quinn in the locker room and then back to him in his apartment with Y/N and Ellie. It stayed on that moment for a few seconds before it shifted to Trouba in New York. 

“Let me see her,” Y/N muttered. Quinn nodded as he lifted Ellie from his chest and cautiously handed her over to Y/N. Quinn shifted his body to the side as he scanned Y/N’s features. “Did you know Rick said those things?” she asked, meeting his eye.

Pursing his lips forward, he shook his head slightly. He leaned towards her, delicately kissing her. “Didn’t really talk about it,” he said with a shrug. She nodded as Ellie’s eyes were starting to get heavy in her arms. 

“Pause it, I’m gonna put her down for her nap,” she said while standing up. He nodded as he reached beside him for the remote. He paused it as he watched her walk down the hall with Ellie in her arms. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket to see a text from Jack asking if he watched the episode yet. He replied that he was working on it. 

Ellie was always a fast sleeper so it only took a handful of minutes for her to fall asleep. Y/N returned to the living room, a grin on her lips. “Okay, press play,” she said as she sat down on the couch beside Quinn. He reached over and delicately rested his hand onto her furthest thigh. He ran his thumb across her thigh, she could barely feel it through the sweatpants fabric.

He pressed play and Trouba’s section started, showing off othe game that got them the President’s Trophy. Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder as they continued to relive the end of the season together. After a few more minutes of Jacob and Gabe’s segments it returned to Quinn.

Quinn was in Nashville with his parents for the first two games of the playoffs. 

“What was it like when Quinn told you guys he was having a baby?” one of the producers asked them as they were sitting in a coffee shop. Quinn smiled as he looked towards his mom. Her eyes lit up and so did his dad. 

“They called us on Facetime and Quinn just blurted it out like he was in trouble or something,” she said while laughing. Y/N looked towards Quinn and he shook his head while laughing.

“Telling news like that over the phone, kinda felt like I was,” Quinn joked out before they cut away to a clip of the Canucks and Predators series. 

After several more minutes, it cut towards the series against Edmonton. The high paced play and the comeback they tried to make in game seven. Quinn took in a sudden breath as he watched the plays and heard himself talk on the ice. He always dissociates during the game to the point he never really remembers what he says or how the plays develop. 

It panned toward the audience with Ellen, Jack, and Y/N watching the game. Her WAG jacket covering her frame, that she helped design. Jack’s arm was in a sling but he was leaning forward watching the game intensely. Ellen was emotionless as she shook her head slightly.

It showed the ending of the match, the celebrations by the Oilers and the sadness of the Canucks. Despite everything, Quinn still led the team in a salute to the crowd. She ran her hand across his upper back. 

“It obviously didn’t end like how we wanted it to but it was good experience for many of us. This is the first playoff run for a lot of us, so now we have a lot of things to use a stepping stones,” he explained in the interview. 

“Anything you would change?” the interviewer asked, nearly cringing at the question once she read it from the card.

“To win-” he said jokingly, “No, I mean-it’s been a tough year. Obviously, I am glad that I get to be home with my daughter for the next few months and not having to have the game on my mind for a few months. It would’ve been awesome to keep going, keep playing but uhm-I guess a good constellation price was getting time with my girlfriend and our daughter,” he explained, smiling softly as he looked into the camera for the last time in the episode. 

Y/N lips fell into a pout as she lifted her head to look towards Quinn. “I’m such a sap,” he let out. She chuckled as she leaned towards him, kissing his cheek delicately.

“That was really cute,” she whispered as he tilted his head to the side to meet her gaze. “Such a good captain,” she dragged her thumb across his jawline.

“Shush, you,” he whispered before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly.

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi cas! Good morning? (I dk what time zone you are in)

If you want I'm really curious to know how you met your wife, if you fell on love immediately, if she reciprocated...

Txs sm <3

Hi! Thank you for asking :D

So the short story is we met on Tinder.

I had recently gotten out of a very toxic relationship and I was trying to Get Back Out There and I was on multiple dating apps. Honestly, I think I was trying to build my self-esteem a bit. I'd been asked on dates by a few people but I always chickened out at the last second. I was pretty fucked up from my ex, and I just didn't feel comfortable.

When we matched, we had mutual friends so I knew she was who she said she was. And then we started flirting over the app and we just clicked, you know? And she made me smile and everything lol

We agreed on a date and I was pretty convinced I was going to chicken out. She was actually LATE. But I was picking her up and I remember being so nervous, waiting in the car, like my heart was in my throat and my stomach was churning and then she got in the car and I just relaxed. And I'd never felt like that on a date. Like my ex made me feel like such crap and I had been so uncomfortable with the idea of actually dating someone else so it was the best feeling in the world. And I feel like that was a sign that she was the person I was meant to be with, you know? (And I was right. She's the most patient, kind, amazing person)

I'd brought her a flower and she was all happy about it, and then we drove to the restaurant and I ate about three bites of my food because I was still nervous (in the sense that I didn't want to say the wrong thing lol I felt completely safe) and she still gives me shit for not eating anything because she didn't eat much because I didn't and 8 years later she still tells me I owe her the rest of the pizza she didn't finish.

But anyway, we talked at the restaurant for about 3ish hours, and we both were absolutely horrible at flirting. I told her a story about my dead goldfish and she sang a song from Arthur (the kids show) and then at the end of the three hours, I drove her home only to realize she lived in the SAME APARTMENT COMPLEX as me. And then we were sitting there awkwardly bc I wanted to kiss her and she wanted to kiss me but neither of us wanted to make the first move so she just went inside.

And then she texted and asked me if I was straight! Like she had the audacity to think I was straight after we went on a 3-hour date after meeting on tinder lol. So I was like, NO.

But anyway she came over to my apartment....five days later? And I kicked my roommates out because I was DETERMINED to kiss her lol. And we had a perfectly respectable kiss and did nothing else at all because I know there are probably children reading this 👀

And then THAT day she told me she was planning on moving to a different state for grad school. And my response was "I can get a job in another state." And she was very happy about that.

So after knowing each other in person for five days and going on two dates, we basically had already decided to move in together.

And...we did! She moved 1000 miles away five months later and I went with her and I proposed while we lived there! And we got married almost to years ago!

The end!

[kwamiwayzz]

Do you have any jeckole Headcanons?

Or:

Jecka Headcanons/Nicole Headcanons (seperatly)

<33

Brain rot coming in. I also want to mention that a majority of these headcanons are rooted in my “Jeckole moving away after graduation and eventually healing years later despite still being a bit fucked up” headcanon. Some headcanons are also inspired by the ones from people who were once super active in the fandom months ago.

Jecka ends up getting accepted to a university in California which leads to her ticket out of her shitty town (she starts with Undecided for some time but ends up choosing pre-med to eventually become a doctor).

Nicole ends up tagging along with her out of convenience at first (she was a bit hesitant at first because she knows she’ll probably bring Jecka down whatever bullshit she gets herself into, but it beats being alone). She also ends up moving out with Jecka because LA is where she’s wanted to go for some time. Also, her mom was actually planning on kicking her out for good (even though her loser brother still gets to freeload).

I personally see Nicole as someone who suffers from extreme depression and self-worth issues due to her upbringing and is more on the cusp of having ASPD (but also, I’m still learning about ASPD, so correct me if it doesn’t work that way).

Jecka has the capability of becoming as fucked up and abusive as her dad. I mostly say this from the scene in Flip Side where she yells at Crispin telling him to off himself, unprovoked.

I also see Jecka as a potential alcoholic with anger issues (if she stayed with her dad any further).

Nicole has a form of cPTSD from her unstable environment and the implication that one of her stepfathers abused her. Even if she were to be placed in a stable environment after high school, the damage has already been done, and she’d still find ways to fuck it up because she every time she felt genuinely a little happy/satisfied with her living situation, it would disappear in puff of smoke.

Nicole ends up on meds and therapy years after moving out of Virginia, but it’s off-and-on.

Jecka also goes on meds and therapy after having a mental breakdown in med school and also after shoving Nicole against a book case during one of their arguments (she’s more consistent with it than Nicole).

During their time living in LA together, Nicole goes homeless three separate times, with one of them being her getting kicked out after Jecka finally had enough of her shit. The last time Nicole goes homeless, it’s after having an extremely difficult time adjusting to the meds and therapy and her cPTSD makes her want to leave because actual stability was getting too real for her.

Despite kicking her out for her bullshit, Jecka still lets Nicole live with her because she’s still codependent on her. Nicole is one of the few people she can be her fucked up self around, and also asked her to come to LA because she didn’t want to be alone either.

Nicole is 1/4 Asian on her dad’s side.

Following Progman’s fic, Jecka sees herself as Nicole’s savior but not entirely in an “I can fix her” type of way.

The only people from high school they still keep in touch with is Emily, with Kelly and Ari added after meeting again at a bar a decade later.

Even though Jecka’s doctor money keeps them both afloat, Nicole ends up working at a bar as a consistent job just to keep herself busy.

The only person from Jecka’s family that she keeps in touch with is her mom. She stays in contact with her dad for financial reasons, but cuts him off after she doesn’t need him anymore.

Nicole cuts off everyone from her family.

Nicole ends up getting sleeve tattoos after being sober from cutting for a significant period of time (I don’t know what the designs would be though).

aurawra21 also mentioned this, but Nicole would probably lean more towards a masc/butch look years after high school. This would include chopping her hair to shoulder length.

I also agree with the general headcanon that Jecka would have abs and have a more toned body compared to Nicole’s stick noodle-like figure.

Nicole would be the type to throw Jecka’s textbook out the window to force her to take a break while studying for med school.

Nicole is a secret nerd/geek (knowing that manga should be read from right to left, liking Mythbusters, used to play video games with her brother—all mentioned somewhere in the original game and Re-Up).

If she cared about school more, Nicole’s favorite subject would probably be chemistry.

Jecka sometimes gets very overprotective over Nicole especially after 1) getting shot by the crazy cop (Re-Up), 2) having nightmares of running to Nicole too late during the People Pleaser Route (Class of ‘09 Suicide Ending), 3) finding out Nicole overdosed/got poisoned by opioids during the very last time she went homeless (Future Timeline headcanon).

I sometimes see Jecka as a pretty neurotic person, who tries and fails to hide it.

When really affectionate, Jecka really loves to kiss Nicole’s neck (angsty reasons in one of my original posts lol).

The two simultaneously make each other better and worse.

They enter an off-and-on situationship for a number of years until they decide to get court married for the benefits.

They wear fake marriage rings when out in public in an effort to try and ward off desperate men. It doesn’t always work, but they’ll never admit to each other that they actually do like wearing them.

Aaaannnddd these are the most that I’ve remembered at the top of my head. I might add more as time goes on, but I love the idea of them reaching adulthood and becoming somewhat more well-adjusted over time.

[thedevilworksharder]

Devan can't help but chuckle between kisses, choosing to practice some kindness and not mention the emotions his opinion of JP seems to call forth. "I'm pretty cute, yeah, I understand your struggle," he hums, nipping at his bottom lip. He pulls his head back and reaches up to grab his jaw, looking JP's face over. "I'll be honest, my love, I amn't the relationship type a fella. Hm?"

There's a long pause as his own confession, or the implications it brings with it, momentarily leaves him trying to find his balance. Devan hadn't intended to bring up the past. They're not someone who apologises for things, they're not someone to regret. And he won't, and he doesn't. But there is a conversation, an explanation, that has thus far remained unspoken that they realise JP has a right to be privy to.

And so they sigh. "C'mere to me, yeah?" he starts, sitting up with his legs crossed under him, fully facing the man. "I left before." Simply stating facts, he did do that. "But it wasn't to do with you." Well... "Technically it wasn't. It was to do with you, but it ain't in the way you're thinkin', see." There's a tension in the manner Devan is speaking, like it's hard to get the words out, even though his body language is relaxed; there's a frown on his face like he's thinking hard, examining each word he says step by step before slotting it into a sentence. "I realised that if I stayed, we'd have become somethin'. An' I probably wouldn't have ever left." They shrug. "Or at least not in any timely manner anyway. An' I wasn't ready for it. Lord, I ain't ready for that shite now an' I might just never be. Right?"

Devan tries to recall any serious relationship he'd been in in his life and comes up blank. Before anything serious could even threaten him, he'd leave. The only commitment he'd ever had was to his job, and even that required a certain non-committal to places, people, and situations. They'd been all over the world, explored cultures with people from these places, dove into histories, shared so many moments with so many people... and none of them ever stuck. Not for lack of potential or chemistry, but simply because he'd rip the seed from the soil before anything could actually bloom.

And it was always fine that way. But he'd been too late ripping out the seed with JP. And they figured, if they just didn't water it, it would die on its own. But then it didn't, did it?

"I didn't come here for you, lad," they shrug again, no dismissal in their voice, no intention to hurt him, no sharpness or condescension, just... honesty and sincerity. They hadn't come here for JP, they hadn't even expected JP to be here. "But ya are here now, an' so am I. Na, that's not--" It's the first time in their whole relationship, past and present, that Devan has ever taken words back. His words have always had precision to them, they are chosen carefully, Devan knows what he's saying and he's always meant what he says.

It's a realisation that strikes him too, in the moment that it happens, and instead of frustration or embarrassment or shame, he simply chuckles. "You fuck me up, John-Paul." Their hand wraps around his throat and they lean closer to give him another kiss. "I got some priorities straight these past few months, in that people can make or break ya. Never thought they were more important than the thrill a the job. You're mine now, aye? An' I'm yours. An' that doesn't mean I'm your boyfriend, or you're mine, it doesn't mean we have so start tellin' people we're gettin' married."

His hand on his throat squeezes, lightly, but with intent, the determination in his eyes evident of a person who has done bad things for less and would do worse for him. "You're mine. You're in my skin. You're in my mind. No one's gonna take ya from me. Not even me."

His focus broke when Devan finally broke the silence, shaking his head gently. John-Paul's embarrassment over this still being such a big deal flared up. He shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have said anything. He fucked up. Already. He knew it. How could he have thought someone as open as Devan would be okay hiding? He continued to silently chastise himself for the assumed failure, slowly blocking out everything around him.

But then Dev was making his presence known and John-Paul's worry began to slowly dissipate. His hands easily found themselves resting at their hip and sliding along their arm to hold onto their wrist. "Don't. It's not the same with them," he said of his siblings, shaking off their perceived ignorance of his 'love' life. "I know they wouldn't care. It's just never come up, so I never said anything," he explained it away. "It's everyone else that worries me. Not to mention there's alot of baggage behind why I've kept it to myself."

John-Paul's brow furrowed in worry when they admitted it was going to be a problem, he really didn't want that, but his expression turned to one of confusion as he went on. The knit in his brow softened as they continued, realizing they weren't leaving. That they were choosing to stay. Each kiss sent a chill up his spine. Each compliment stole his breath away. Self doubt clenched at his chest. He feared he wouldn't be able to live up to the image Devan had of him - his talent to screw up even the surest of shots undeniable.

It was Devan's value of him that nearly sent him over the edge. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the tears now threatening to dampen his eyes. He didn't know how to handle all the praise. All of Devan's wanting of him. That they were on his side. Other than his siblings, who he still sometimes believed felt more obligation by blood to be there, no one willingly made his protection a priority. And not his physical protection, he could handle himself without a doubt, it was his emotional insecurities that need the helping hand. But it was overwhelming to actually find it (in the apocalypse no less) and his words refused to form. He leaned them up just enough to press a kiss to their lips after the promise to defend his honor.

"I don't think you'll need to do that. At least not yet," he finally managed to choke out, swallowing back the lump forming in his throat with a small, nervous, short chuckle - joking in the face of seriousness his usual coping mechanism to break the weight of his anxiety. "Just give me a little more time, okay?" he asked genuinely, a thumb caressing their cheek. "That's all I need. And I promise it won't be long. It's hard to hide how much I like you," he admitted with gentle teasing in his voice before pressing another kiss to his lips.

[destiny-in-the-universe]

I am so sorry for my sudden impromptu ‘departure’ from RC9GN. You haven’t gotten rid of me yet. Now, I have been steadily working on Project Zero buuuttt updates on my life;

Things advanced during my job search. I’m a little less stressed, but I do have to work on a portfolio and once I’m done eating- I’m getting right to work on finishing. So!

Also, I’m going to be working on a few of my projects for RC9GN- and a brand new storyline I came up with. I’ll be releasing more on that soon! If anyone’s interested, I can talk about the polycule (Randy/Howard/Debbie/Theresa)!

I have a lot I’m brainrotting about, but this will all come once my portfolio’s finished. Wish me luck because I desperately need it-

~ Destiny (They/Them)

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[junseotual]

the complete eri guidebook (2023) full version under the cut ♡ pdf ver. happy birthday @xiaojuun !! &lt;3

credits. with the help of: meg (@hozierbyrne) // brina (@aquablues) // aléks (@possession1981) // vianey (@souladies) // lili (@ninqz) // aweks (@awek-s) // miha (@jaebeomtual) // rachel (@gnanii) // mare (@dongkwan) // ro (@sunghanbin) // rosie (@kimjiwoong) // lulu (@fushigojos) // sofi (@yukuz) graphics: gift boxes // broccoli // orange fruit watercolor // lip print textures // notion-style scribbles // healthcare vector icons // human anatomy icons // film cutouts pack // 3d travel icons // drinks vector icon set // coffee outline illustration pack // baby vector icon pack

[mypeggableromance]

.

[orcelito]

Did driving practice today. Actually did parallel parking practice this time, even tho I really didn't want to still. Finally got it into my head that I can maybe do this.

SO......

I have scheduled my driving test. For November 13th, 3 weeks from today.

[iqmmir]

Hi im back . For some time

[c0rpsedemon]

there's so much manga i have to read it's unreal 😭

[loverofallthingssmart]

hello beloved tumblrinas. i will be back and active SOON. SOON i prommy there have been many things to update.

[myfaveisfuckable]

Omg are you saying you will eventually restart the boyband polls?? Awesome!! I miss them tbh

It's been my intention for a while to continue all the polls from the other blog 😭 I just haven't gotten around to it yet..