#3261

[sleepsucks]

[thewertsearch]

A fifth exile, sleeping for centuries in the belly of the ruins, far beneath the desecrated idol once sharing its visage with the legendary SPEAKER OF THE VAST CROAK.

We’ve got another Vast Thing, to accompany Gl'bgolyb’s Glub and Aradia's Joke.

I'm a little nervous about the parallel being drawn here between Gl'bgolyb and Bilious Slick. If Sburb's Frog God turns out to have been a Horrorterror all along, it would certainly be fitting, but it definitely wouldn't be good.

Soon the WRIT KEEPER will awaken and serve his new queen.

Fair enough. It makes sense that the Queen would want to save her husband if the opportunity were to present itself.

It is a little fucked that he's the only one who was preserved, though. He shared space with Dave’s beta, so the device can clearly accommodate multiple payloads. For all we know, they could have evacuated half of Prospit through here!

The King has become the Writ Keeper, which makes me think that Complacency might be more than just a teen's first novel.

I think it’s time to take another look at Rose's magnum opus.

COTL is a story about twelve wizards, who suspect that their twelve apprentices are responsible for murder.

In contrast, Homestuck is a story about twelve rather murderous trolls, who are following in the footsteps of their twelve ancestors. So, you see, it's different.

Nah, but seriously, I'm fairly confident that these wizards are supposed to represent the ancestors and Players of the troll session. Zazzerpan even refers to the apprentices as the Complacency's 'grand descendence', which is almost comically on the nose.

But what does it mean? I doubt Rose is intentionally weaving these parallels - it's probably just a manifestation of her latent Seer powers.

In the story, Zazzerpan's cohort are horrified by the possibility that their apprentices are killers. Does this imply that the troll ancestors are less violent and dangerous than the modern Alternians? But if the ancestors were peaceful, I don't think Eridan would respect them the way he does. Hmm.

She would like clarification on the nature of the work, which you are happy to provide. You explain that it is very simple. As the new queen, she will be charged with bringing the slayer to justice, and rebuilding her kingdom in a new land.

The latter is standard practice for Sburban Exiles, and should be well within their capabilities. That said, it would be just as achievable if they were being led by WQ, so I’m not sure why PM needs to bear the crown instead.

If PM is 'bringing the Slayer to justice', she'll probably be confronting Jack directly. This means she's going to be travelling back into sessionspace, presumably quipped with the one weapon capable of matching Noir’s.

[manoelt-finisterrae]

armela

os meus sentimentos a morte os músculos abandonados no baleiro do voo daba a sensación de non existir pero si aí está na palidez dos nosos ombreiros o instante en que o corazón foi tan claro avespa que é capaz de asinar na dozura do cansazo

a luz aquela que sobe sospeitando a súa única flor está no tremor do peixe non doe haber comido o teu caramelo as palpitacións tremendo de novo sorría despois de chupar o caramelo aquel que se quedou atrás   escondido nos ollos dos supiros bordados ás preguntas que a ninguén contentan

en cambio a resposta ten unha cadencia de respiración sen ningunha lúa á vista

© Manoel T, 2022

[honjitsuno1mai]

#3261 ＠ 東京都港区赤坂（富士フイルムフォトサロン 東京）

[exotic-indians]

[juristique]

Grille des salaires de la logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023

New Post has been published on https://www.juristique.org/actualite/salaires-logistique-communication-ecrite-directe-2023

Grille des salaires de la logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023

En application de l’accord du 23 février 2023 (BOCC 2023-10 TRA du Journal Officiel), ci-dessous la nouvelle grille des salaires au 1er avril 2023 de la convention collective nationale des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe (publicité directe) du 19 novembre 1991 (IDCC 1611 – Brochure JO N° 3261).

La grille conventionnelle des salaires 2023 permet de répondre aux questions suivantes :

Combien gagne un employé ou un agent de maîtrise ?

Quelle est l’échelle des salaires de la publicité directe en 2023 ?

Combien peut gagner un cadre selon sa formation et son expérience ?

Il s’agit des minimums garantis de salaire brut horaires et/ou mensuels pour 35 heures hebdomadaires (en euros) ou 151,67 heures par mois en fonction de votre groupe.

Salaires 2023 de la publicité directe

Pour le connaitre, référez-vous à votre bulletin de paye ou à votre contrat de travail, cette information doit en principe y être indiquée. À défaut, contactez le service des ressources humaines ou de la paye de votre entreprise. Ils sont à même de vous renseigner.

Sommaire

1 Barème et salaire minimum de logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023

2 Date et durée d’application de l’accord

3 Télécharger l’accord du 19 mai 2023 des salaires de la publicité directe

4 Acheter la convention collective de la publicité directe

5 Foire aux questions (FAQ) sur la dernière grille des salaires 2023 de logistique de communication écrite directe

Barème et salaire minimum de logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023

  Salaires minima conventionnels – Base nouvelle classification

  Groupe

Salaire Horaire au 1ᵉʳ avril 2023

Salaire mensuel 151,67 heures conventionnel au 1ᵉʳ avril 2023

Cadres

Groupe I-A

  5 227,20 €

Groupe I-B

  4 576,36 €

Groupe I-C

  4 067,84 €

Groupe I-D

  3 905,13 €

Groupe I-E

  3 132,52 €

Groupe I-F

  3 050,88 €

Groupe I-G

  2 949,18 €

AMT

Groupe II-A

  2 847,50 €

Groupe II-B

  2 644,11 €

Groupe II-C

  2 542,42 €

Employé-ouvriers

Groupe III-A

15,66 €

2 375,48 €

Groupe III-B

14,31 €

2 170,67 €

Groupe III-C

13,04 €

1 977,33 €

Groupe III-D

12,30 €

1 865,97 €

Groupe III-E

11,92 €

1 808,62 €

Groupe III-F

11,56 €

1 753,59 €

Groupe III-G

11,45 €

1 736,57 €

Groupe III-H[1]

11,27 €

1 709,28 €

[1] Smic à la date de la révision des minima.

Date et durée d’application de l’accord

L’accord est applicable à compter du 1er avril 2023 pour une durée indéterminée.

Télécharger l’accord du 19 mai 2023 des salaires de la publicité directe

En complément, à télécharger l’accord du 23 février 2023 des salaires 2023 de la publicité directe au format PDF :

#pdfp645e387c16e35 .title font-size: 16px; #pdfp645e387c16e35 iframe height: 500px; #pdfp645e387c16e35 width: 100%; .pdfp7ae1ff23btn background: #2271b1; color: #fff; padding: 10px 20px 10px 10px

Accord du 23 février 2023 des salaires de la publicité directe

Télécharger l'accord des salaires

Acheter la convention collective de la publicité directe

Pour acheter la convention collective nationale des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe du 19 novembre 1991 (IDCC 1611 – Brochure JO N° 3261) et ses mises à jour, dans un format papier ou un fichier PDF (téléchargeable immédiatement), vous pouvez vous rendre sur le site web de notre partenaire Convention.fr :

Foire aux questions (FAQ) sur la dernière grille des salaires 2023 de logistique de communication écrite directe

"@context":"https://schema.org","@type":"FAQPage","@id":"https://www.juristique.org/actualite/salaires-logistique-communication-ecrite-directe-2023","mainEntity":["@type":"Question","name":"Quels sont les salaires des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023 ?","acceptedAnswer":"@type":"Answer","text":"Au 1ᵉʳ avril 2023, les salaires mensuels des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe vont de 1 709,28 euros à 5 227,20 euros.","@type":"Question","name":"Comment fonctionne la grille des salaires de logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023 ?","acceptedAnswer":"@type":"Answer","text":"Toute entreprise rattachée à la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe doit respecter les minimums légaux (<a href=\"https://www.juristique.org/conventionnel/smic-mai-2023\">Smic</a>) mais aussi conventionnels. Ainsi, en fonction du groupe attribué sur le contrat de travail, l'entreprise doit verser à ses salariés le minimum prévu dans les dernières grilles des salaires conventionnelles.","@type":"Question","name":"Quel est le salaire minimum des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023 ?","acceptedAnswer":"@type":"Answer","text":"Au 1ᵉʳ avril 2023, le salaire minimum mensuel des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe est de 1 709,28 euros. Si cette valeur est inférieure au <a href=\"https://www.juristique.org/conventionnel/smic-mai-2023\">Smic</a>, c’est le <a href=\"https://www.juristique.org/conventionnel/smic-mai-2023\">Smic</a> qui est alors retenu comme salaire minimum.","@type":"Question","name":"Quel est le numéro IDCC de la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe ?","acceptedAnswer":"@type":"Answer","text":"Le numéro IDCC de la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe est « 1611 ».","@type":"Question","name":"Quel est le numéro de brochure de la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe ?","acceptedAnswer":"@type":"Answer","text":"Le numéro de brochure de la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe est « 3261 »."]

Quels sont les salaires des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023 ?

Au 1ᵉʳ avril 2023, les salaires mensuels des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe vont de 1 709,28 euros à 5 227,20 euros.

Comment fonctionne la grille des salaires de logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023 ?

Toute entreprise rattachée à la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe doit respecter les minimums légaux (Smic) mais aussi conventionnels. Ainsi, en fonction du groupe attribué sur le contrat de travail, l’entreprise doit verser à ses salariés le minimum prévu dans les dernières grilles des salaires conventionnelles.

Quel est le salaire minimum des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe en 2023 ?

Au 1ᵉʳ avril 2023, le salaire minimum mensuel des entreprises de logistique de communication écrite directe est de 1 709,28 euros. Si cette valeur est inférieure au Smic, c’est le Smic qui est alors retenu comme salaire minimum.

Quel est le numéro IDCC de la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe ?

Le numéro IDCC de la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe est « 1611 ».

Quel est le numéro de brochure de la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe ?

Le numéro de brochure de la convention collective de logistique de communication écrite directe est « 3261 ».

[kavitavermamua]

All girls like to do that make-up and she likes to put on makeup. but they don't know everything.And that totally doesn't happen with good makeup. If you live in Delhi then your problem will be solved.because kavita verma mua is the best makeup artist in delhi ncr.wedding bridal makeup services in Delhi NCR

[cryptid-creations]

#3261. Pearsian

FAQ  • Twitter  •  Facebook  •  Instagram  •  DeviantArt

[aryomengrande]

aryomengrande’s 127 squad (2023 division) ᕦ(ò_ó)ᕤ

i reached my favorite milestone last year which is 127 (it’s also my angel number ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝) but hardly had time to make this. i planned to post this by january 27 (which is 1/27) but didn’t finish it on time but ig today is fine (02/07). basically, these are the characters featured in my top 1, 2, and 7 most liked posts here on tumblr last year—seishu inui taking the 1st place, kokonoi hajime in 2nd place, and kakucho in 7th place. i really enjoyed making these, so i’ll do this every year except i’ll pick the top 1, 2, and 7 most liked posts across all my platforms instead of just tumblr. all of these reference nct 127’s albums (for those who aren’t familiar, nct 127 is a subunit of the kpop group nct), and i will continue to do so to uphold the 127 tradition (*��͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ* thank u to my 127+ followers and thank u to everyone who showed these posts a lot of love ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ stoked to see which ones place 1st, 2nd, and 7th place this year ! ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

more details about these pieces under the cut (bc i’m a detail whore)

the album reference for inupi is neozone (n ver.). i changed the yellow into a warmer tone that’s closer to toman’s golden yellow.

i switched the nct 127 emblem into a shape that resembles a basketball bc inupi’s special skill is ball games. i also changed it to the 1st album (instead of 2nd album) to reference his top spot as my most liked post last year.

the member i used for reference for inupi and koko is lee taeyong bc ‘yong’ in korean means ‘dragon’ and both inupi and koko are part of black dragons. inupi’s drip is taeyong’s drip in nct 127’s single ‘kick it’ from the neozone album.

the album reference for koko is sticker (sticker ver.). i also changed the album order from 3rd album to 2nd album to reference him being second to inupi as the most liked post here on tumblr. i picked sticker for koko bc bro rly stuck w inupi through thick and thin. like a stickaaa stickaaa *insert whistle tones* lmao

the numbers in the barcode are the number of likes he got from each platform—215 upvotes from reddit, 269 likes from tiktok, 577 likes on tumblr, 2.2k likes on twitter/x, a total of 3261 likes.

and finally, the album reference for kakucho is fact check (storage ver.). kakucho my beloved, the brawler, is canonically a prodigy who can even go up against the invincible mikey. don’t believe me? check the facts go check that!! (¬◾_◾) i also changed the album order from 5th album to 7th album in line with kakucho being featured in my top 7 most liked post here.

the reference for kakucho is jung jaehyun in ‘fact check’; his drip kinda resembles kaku’s tenjiku’s uniform, the pants specifically.

i switched the vault safe door into a metallic yin yang to reference tenjiku’s emblem and i also like that the storage version of fact check is grey, which is his image color! ⋆˙⟡♡

[junkdrawerfics]

Sweet Interruptions

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw X Reader

Summary: Rooster meets you, the owner of a local bakery, by chance encounter during a night out on the town with the Daggers. And by chance, I mean he's a little tipsy, you're closed, and Payback really needed those croissants.

Word Count: 3261

Warnings: No, besides me trying to write flirting with no experience. No beta.

Part 2

----

The first day Rooster stumbles into your bakery, it is mostly an accident.

After one too many rounds at the Hard Deck, the Daggers decide it was a good idea to walk the town, explore since they didn’t have the chance last time. As they pass by your shop, a cute little corner bakery, adorned with soft yellows and greens, plants lining the shelves inside, (a ‘closed’ sign on the door), Payback decides he just can’t resist the stuffed croissants left in the showcase.

It’s quite shocking to have a grown man burst through your doors when you’re cleaning up.

You freeze, eyes wide, towel in hand as you were wiping down the counter. The man, dressed in a Navy uniform, stumbles towards your showcase and another man comes through your doors, chasing after him.

“Rooster! Rooster, look at these, they look so good,” the first man practically shouts.

You make eye contact with the second man, who’s tall and has the most silly, but somehow attractive mustache you’ve ever seen on a man. A blush rises to your cheeks when he glances you over and you can’t help but look away, heart leaping into your throat from how intensely his hazel eyes burn into you.

A smirk pulls at Rooster’s lips when you look down and fidget with the towel in your hands. You’re cute. Really cute. You’re wearing a cottagey little apron, with flour splashed on your cheeks, making your blush even more apparent. If he weren’t just a little tipsy, he would apologize and drag Payback out of there right away. But he is, and he’s getting better at this whole taking action thing.

“Sorry for the interruption, sweetheart-” Your face goes even darker, which makes his smirk pull a little wider, “-my friend just-”

“Rooster, we have to get some!” The first man grabs onto him, and the tall man, Rooster, laughs. It’s one of those full chest laughs, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes crinkle with amusement.

“She’s closed, man!”

“But-”

“He can have them,” you squeak softly, finally finding your voice.

Rooster glances at you, brow perking. You sound just as flustered as you look, but your voice is like a chime of bells to his ears. It suits you, he thinks warmly.

“I was um, I was going to throw them out anyway.” You duck your head and shuffle to the case, too aware of his eyes on you. You keep yourself busy by grabbing a bag and filling it with what’s left of your meat and cheese croissants, offering them quickly to the men.

“You’re too good to us, sweetheart.”

His fingers brush your skin as he gently takes the bag from you, and you take in a sharp breath, pulling away. Your heart is beating fast. Is it supposed to beat that fast? You look up at him again, only to see that his pleased smirk is back, and now your heart’s stopped. This can’t be healthy for you.

“The name’s Bradley, by the way,” he hums, and waits.

You nod, just staring at him with wide eyes, until his features curve with amusement and his eyes do that crinkle thing again. Your brow furrows, confusion twisting in your chest, before you realize what he’s waiting for.

“Oh! I’m (Y/n), my name’s (Y/n)!” You rush out and cringe, feeling silly and geez, you must be as red as a tomato. Especially with how his lips settle into a soft smile, one that is far too fond for a stranger.

“(Y/n), huh?” He lets your name roll off his lips, as if tasting it, and you can’t help but like the way it sounds, which doesn’t help with the whole blush situation. “That’s a beautiful name, but I think I still like sweetheart.”

“Well, that, that’s um, that’s okay, I guess,” you stutter, wishing for nothing more than to just disappear into the back because is he flirting with you? It sure feels like he’s flirting with you. And you have no clue how to respond.

Rooster, Bradley you correct yourself, laughs again, and begins dragging his friend back towards the door. You peek up at him, just one last time, and he dares to pause to send you a wink and there goes your heart again!

“Night, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You give him a tiny wave, not knowing what else to do. The little bell over the door chimes as he joins his friends back outside. They all jump into chatter, and you watch curiously as the man grins and says something that makes the whole group whistle and holler. All eyes shift towards you, and this time you do skitter into the back. You press your back to the wall, blood roaring in your ears as the sound of their cheering fades away. It’s only when it’s completely quiet again that you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

And that’s when his words fully register.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

You cover your face, a ridiculously big smile pulling at your lips. You shouldn’t feel so excited. He might not even show up, considering he was definitely a little drunk, but what if he does? You hope he does. You really hope he does. Your heart might give up, but that’s okay. Maybe he could resuscitate you.

You slap your cheeks, laughing embarrassedly at your own thoughts. It’s like you’re in high school again! He’s just a guy. A very handsome Navy guy with a stupidly charming attitude and gorgeous eyes…oh boy.

---

The second time Bradley comes into your bakery, it’s exactly the next day, just like he said.

The door chimes as you duck down to fill the case with your fresh-baked coffee cake, so you don’t see the customer when you offer your normal greeting, “Hello! Welcome to Flying Delights, how can I help y-”

All your words escape you when you stand back up and find Bradley standing on the other side of the case, looking so put together, and charming, and smiling right at you. 

“Morning, sweetheart.” His voice is soft, with just enough of a rough edge to give away how early it is.

“I um, I didn’t actually uh, think you’d come,” you stutter, brushing your already flour coated hands on your apron. His eyes flicker down, and you blush, feeling just a little silly in the frilly apron. “They seemed like a good, good idea, for the um, the aesthetics,” you try to explain, but blush when he just smiles amusedly, “You didn’t need to know that.”

“I definitely think they were a good idea,” he hums, and you really wish you could cover your face to hide from the way his eyes trail back up to meet yours, “Though you’d look just as cute without it.”

“What can I get you?” You squeak, setting your gaze stubbornly on the showcase, as if that will stop your face from going up in flames.

Rooster chuckles softly, the spark of something fond starting in his chest as he watches you shuffle your feet, face positively red. He hasn’t had this much fun flirting with someone, ever. And you’re just as cute as he thought you were the night before, all doe eyes and a little short, especially compared to him. He could probably bench press you if he wanted, the idea of which makes his smile go even wider.

“I’ll take a dozen of those stuffed pastries,” he finally concedes, just when it looks like you’re about to dart into the back if he didn’t, “Payback raved about them all night, so I figured they must be amazing.”

“Payback?” You glance at him curiously, quickly going to the pastries when you find him still looking at you, his hazel eyes just a little squinted with mirth in a way that makes him look so young and so kis- Nope!

“That’s my friend who I pulled out of here last night, his call sign.”

Oh, that makes sense. They’re aviators. You’ve had a few of them come through here, though usually they disappear after a while. The thought makes you pause as you grab the fourth pastry, something heavy settling in your chest. Bradley will probably only be here for a little while too.

“Your um, your call name is Rooster?” You wager a soft guess, remembering the man calling him that several times the night before.

“You remember.” Something warm flushes through Bradley’s chest.

“Why Rooster?” 

You have never felt this driven to ask so many questions, but the curiosity over this man is consuming you. Maybe it’s the Hawaiin shirt, or the mustache, or how he seems to be placing his undivided attention on you, but you want to know more, even if it means you’ll get a fever from how warm you feel.

“Kind of an ode to my old man,” Bradley explains, voice going soft, and you stop to look at him, not shying away from the contact this time as you feel like you’ve hit on something very important. “His call sign was Goose, I thought I’d kind of carry it on.”

“That’s really sweet.”

Bradley smiles, though it’s notably sadder than the ones you’ve seen before. Before you can stop yourself, in a moment of bravery, you reach over the counter to touch his hand. Rooster looks down, heart squeezing when he notices just how small your hands look compared to his. He quickly adds it to the list of things he already likes about you.

“Anyways,” he coughs and practically shrugs off the weight that suddenly came over him, not wanting to drown the mood. “I hope these pastries are as good as Payback made them sound. I need a reason other than thinking you're adorable to keep coming by. I’ll find one regardless, but this would be a good one.”

And you’re blushing again. 

“Well, I uh, I really hope you like them,” you mumble and hold the box out to him.

Bradley brushes your hand as he takes the box, just like the night before, and you know it can’t be an accident. This time, his touch leaves behind little tingles on your fingertips and you curl them shut, hoping to hold on to the feeling.

“How much do I owe you, sweetheart?”

“Nothing if-” You take a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage in your bones. “-if you promise to come back tomorrow and, and try my beignets. They’re um, they’re my favorites.”

Rooster’s eyes widen in surprise before settling into happy crescents, his smile soft, “You have a deal, (Y/n).”

Your heart races. “Yah?”

“I promise on my wings, sweetheart.”

“Then I guess, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley.”

You offer him the most hesitant but breathtaking smile he’s ever seen before swiftly disappearing into the back. Bradley stays standing at the counter with the stupidest smile on his face as he looks down at the box in his hands. Distractedly popping his aviators on, he practically struts out of the bakery, carrying the box like a trophy. This trip was definitely a victory after all.

You watch him go from around the corner, face practically glowing.

You’re really, really looking forward to tomorrow now.

----

And he keeps his promise.

For the next week, you see Bradley practically every day, sometimes more than that. Every morning he comes in and orders a surplus of whatever you recommend, with a heaping load of flirting that leaves your head spinning the rest of the day. Sometimes he even comes in later in the evening, when things have slowed down, and you spend a couple minutes between customers sitting at a table, sipping coffee and sharing stories and laughing. He has this incredible ability to make you laugh and make each day feel like something new, like everything you’ve been looking for your whole life.

And now, Rooster shows up every morning with  boundless amounts of pastries for the Daggers, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“So, do we get to meet this new little girlfriend of yours?” Hangman quips one day as he plucks a glazed donut from the box Rooster drops at the front of the class.

“Nope.” Rooster smiles smugly to himself. He likes the sound of that, them calling you his girlfriend.

“Oh come on! I just want to give my compliments to the chef.”

“You are never meeting her, Bagman,” he huffs with a laugh and slumps into his seat, “I don’t want any of you scaring her away.”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for the timid ones, Rooster,” Phoenix hums, though her focus is more on which donut she wants.

“She’s not timid, just…easily flustered.” He grins, remembering all the shades of red your face turns when he tries to flirt with you. Recently, you’ve even gotten him back a few times, though you can hardly get it out without turning into a flustered mess anyway. 

“I vote we go to this place and meet her without Rooster,” Fanboy calls, earning a scowl from the aviator, “Come on, we gotta make sure you’re good enough for her, cause I have my doubts.”

“Yah?” Rooster leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest with an amused glint in his eyes, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, if her baking is all a reflection of her, she is waaaay out of your league, man.”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and Bradley honestly can’t argue, though he does think to give Fanboy a painful ribbing later. He knows you’re too good for him. He knows it with every fiber of his being when you smile at him. And yet, you save those smiles just for him.

“You guys are not allowed to meet her without me there,” he says finitely, shaking his head as Maverick comes marching into the room.

Safe to say, the Daggers hardly listen to anyone, given the opportunity.

----

They last a week before the curiosity becomes too much.

“Ummm, can I, can I help you?” You peer nervously over the case at the small group of uniform-dressed airmen and woman now standing in your bakery. You recognize them as Rooster’s friends, or the people he was with that night at least.

“You’re the baker, right?” One of the men, a taller guy with blond hair and a sketchy smile, asks.

“I, I guess?” You pat at your apron, not sure what to say or what to do.

“We just wanted to come meet the girl Rooster hasn’t stopped talking about,” the woman says and elbows the man in the side when he opens his mouth again. “Make sure he’s treating you right.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks go warm. “Um, Bradley, he, he talks about me?”

The one man you recognize, Payback, gives you a toothy grin, “It’s hard to get him to talk about anything else.”

“Oh.” You want to knock your head against the wall, unable to think of anything else to say. It’s like your brain has just stopped processing, leaving you to just flounder with this new information.

Rooster talks about you. He thinks about you outside of your playful encounters here in the safety of your bakery. A swarm of butterflies unleashes in your chest, your heart getting lost among them. That has to mean something, right?

“He was right, you get pretty flustered,” the short man comments, “And I was right too, you are way out of his league.”

“Huh?” You look at them, wide-eyed, face as dark as the cherry tarts you were stocking.

“There’s no way Bradshaw pulls someone like her,” the tall man chuckles.

“That’s not nice,” you frown, suddenly feeling the need to defend the man, especially since he’s not here, “Bradley’s been nothing but kind to me. He’s so sweet, and he’s funny, and han-handsome, and, and I really really like him!”

You freeze, covering your mouth. Looking up at the group, you find all of them smiling at you, all happy despite how mortified you feel. You just said that. You just said that in front of all of Bradley’s friends. Oh no. It’s not like you said love, but it feels like you might as well have. Now they’re going to tell him and he’ll think you’re crazy and then you won’t see him again. 

The door bell chimes.

“You guys never listen to me, do you?”

It’s like the red sea parting, the way the group all step aside to reveal Bradley standing at the door. Your eyes meet and you’re stuck. He’s not wearing his usual. Not the Hawaiian shirt. Not his uniform. Instead, Rooster is dressed in slacks and a dull, dark blue button-up, the sleeves rolled just high enough to show off his arms, which are crossed over his chest. He looks…hot. And you’re so happy you are still covering your mouth, because you’re pretty sure you’re drooling just a little bit.

“Looking spiffy there, Bradshaw,” the blond grins, unphased, “Dressed to impress?”

“Yup, but not for you,” Rooster drawls before tilting his chin at you, “I’m here for her."

“Well, we know when we’re unwanted,” Fanboy chuffs, and the group makes their way out around Rooster.

“Apparently you don’t,” Rooster calls after them, but the smile on his lips takes any bite out of his tone.

Once they’re gone, the aviator turns back to you. He saunters up to the counter, hands slipping into his pockets when he stops right across from you. You’re still staring. You can’t stop staring. And he notices, if the smirk on his face tells you anything.

“So, you really really like me, huh?”

For once, your pallor goes absolutely stark as all the blood drains from your face. He heard.

“Um, well, I just uh-” Not a single coherent thought passes from your lips, and with each passing moment, his smirk grows wider and wider.

“Hey, don’t worry, sweetheart-” He reaches over, thumb softly brushing your cheek and you immediately fall quiet. “I really really like you too.”

Oh, you’re going to melt. You’re going to melt right here, whether it be from his words, or his touch, or the warmth brimming in his eyes. All of it has your heart racing against your ribs, so loud he can probably hear it.

“So um, why, why are you here, tonight?” You ask in all but a whisper.

“Well, before those idiots showed up, I was going to ask you out on a date,” he hums.

“And now?” You perk up, hopeful and scared all at once.

“Now, I still want to take you out, but I think I want to kiss you first.”

There’s no fixing what that does to your heart, that’s for sure.

Rooster glances around, making sure there’s no one in the bakery before a mischievous glint takes over his eyes. You watch, brow furrowing as he props his hands on the counter, and suddenly, in a blink, the man is sliding over the counter and standing right next to you. So close, you can feel the warmth coming off his body. So close you can feel his warm breath on your face.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” He asks, fingers gently slipping around your waist as he leans down, nose practically touching yours. “Can I kiss you?”

It takes a second, but when you find your voice, you gasp out a soft, “Yes.”

And he does. His lips meet yours and he’s smiling and you’re smiling and it’s perfect.

---

Part 2

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 8 (Steddie X You)

A/N: This chapter is kind of more Eddie based than Steddie but both are still present and cute with Aurora and Dylan. I know in past chapters Eddie has always been very good with Dylan and kind of comes off more as like the fun dad so I wanted to write a chapter that explores more of the protective side of him when it comes to the reader's son. He's shown it of course with the reader and Aurora when he found out she was pregnant so :)

Warnings: This is more of an angsty chapter with fluff and some smut. There is mediation again between the reader and Charlie with lawyers and he degrades her (calls her a slut/whore). He does something extremely stupid when it comes to Dylan (Hopper has to get involved) so her son calls Eddie to help him. Eddie alludes to certain details when it comes to life before Wayne.

Word Count: 3261

“Are you kidding me?! She’s fucking two men, changed her name like that makes her fantasy scenario real, and she got pregnant! I haven’t even gotten remarried and yet she’s the better influence on my son?!”

“I think it’s convenient that you left out how you were fucking other women WHILE we were married.”

You and Charlie glare at each other across the mediation table. You really did have every intention of giving visitation back to your ex but right now he wasn’t make a great case for himself. You weren’t going to allow Dylan to be alone with him if he was going to continue to act like this and, honestly, your son still hadn’t expressed any interest to visit with his dad. 

“Last time I spent time with my son was almost a year ago. I think it’s been more than enough time to revisit visitation!”

Glancing at your lawyer you allowed her to speak for you. “We absolutely can but that’s not what this is. I mean you’re claiming that her environment is unfit but all you want is visitation?”

“My son needs a good influence in his life.”

“Yeah and he has three in the house.”

He starts to speak but his lawyer shooshes him. “Lidia, we can talk about visitation at least and go from there.”

“We can talk about it but the fact of the matter is, Dylan doesn’t seem to want to go over and Y/N doesn’t feel comfortable with him being alone in his care. Apparently, we tried that 10 months ago and it didn’t work out so well.”

“Just because I found out she was a whore and having my son call other men ‘daddy’.”

“Ok, we’re done here. If that’s how he wants to be then we’ll see you in court.”

#################

“He said what?!”

“Eddie, calm down.”

“Baby, DON’T…don’t tell me to calm down.”, he sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “He has no right to talk to you that way.”

“There’s nothing I can do.”, you shrug. Steve’s eyes shift between you both as he bounces Aurora in his arms. “I mean everyone else is calling me that.”

“That doesn’t make it ok and thankfully no one has had the balls to say it around us including your ex because they know we’ll beat the shit out of them.”

“Oh really, freak?” You playfully wink as he makes a face at you. 

Dylan slides into the kitchen and climbs on to a chair at the table as he places his homework in front of you. “Mom, I need help.”

“Good thing you came to me because I don’t think these two can handle eight-year-old math.”

“Did you hear that, Ro? Mommy thinks she’s so funny. Yes, she does.” The baby coos and smiles at Steve as he mocks you.

Later that night as Eddie put Dylan to bed, you and Steve sat together in your room playing with Aurora.

“Dada. Can you say Dada?”, he grins up at her as she leans back against his knees. Steve cranes his neck to try and look at you as you lay on your back beside him. “What was Dylan’s first word?”

“Mama.”, you smile as you reach out to pinch her cheeks. “Mama? Do you think we should give you both your own name?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Neil Patrick Harris’s kids call their dads ‘Dad and Papa’. Should we do something like that?”

“I think it would be more confusing for her. I mean Dylan says ‘Dad’ to us both. It’s already going to be interesting enough explaining why he calls us ‘Eddie and Steve’.”

“Yeah…THAT will be the interesting part.”, you giggle. “I told him I changed my name and he said that was cool.”

“Good. I’m glad he likes that. Yeah? You like that to, honey?” His grin grows with Aurora’s. “Mommy’s last name is the same as yours.”

“What did mommy do now?” Eddie sighs as he jumps into bed beside Steve, leaning in to give the baby sloppy kisses on her cheek as she laughs and reaches for him. He places her on his stomach, laying her back against his knees. 

“Dylan also mentioned something to me but you can’t tell him I told you. I think he should talk to you himself but I think you guys should be prepared.” You sit up and cross your legs as you face them. “He said…he’s been wanting to call you dad full time…as in no more ‘Eddie and Steve’. He’s just nervous because of everything with Charlie and he knows it will make his dad angry.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I told him it was his choice. If he feels comfortable then he should be able to.” Your eyes flick between them. “What are we thinking?”

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie continues when you nod. “If he wanted to call Vivian ‘mom’, would you be ok with it?”

“I…would be ok with it in the sense of…that’s how he feels and what he wants. It would still hurt a bit that he would be saying it to the woman Charlie hurt me with me but…” Steve reached out to run his thumb along your face. “I told Dylan whenever he was ready, he should talk with you both so you can tell him how you feel.”

###########

“Hawkins Auto Repair. This is Eddie.”

“Eddie?”

“Dylan? What’s going on, kid?” The metalhead glances at the caller id, noticing it’s not the elementary schools or your cell phone number. “Are you ok?”

“My dad picked me up from school. I told him I needed to call mom to let her know but he said I shouldn’t. Eddie, I want to go home.”

Eddie’s cell phone starting buzzing in his pocket, realizing he had a few missed calls from you and Steve. 

“Ok, kid. Sit tight. I’m on my way.”

****

Eddie’s van skidded down the street just as he pulled up to Charlie’s house. 

He quickly got out, banging on the front door until it swung open and to his surprise Vivian was standing on the other side.

“I told him this was a bad idea.”

“Where’s Dylan?”

She points towards the back of the house but as the metalhead walks down the hallway, Charlie exits a room, meeting him halfway. 

“You’re not taking my son. He’s safer with me than with you freaks.”

“Said the man who just basically kidnapped him. How fucking stupid are you? Do you really think Y/N’s going to ever let you see him now?”

“I don’t care what that slut thinks or does—”

Eddie stepped forward till he was right in Charlie’s face. Both men were about the same height but Eddie’s fury made him seem so much taller.

“Watch your fucking mouth. The only reason I haven’t hit you yet is because Dylan is around somewhere and is scared enough but if you insult his mother one more fucking time…I swear to God, Charlie.”

“My son isn’t scared.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did he call me begging for me to come pick him up?”

“Dad?”

Dylan’s head poked out of a room with his backpack on his shoulders. 

“Dil, keep playing your video games and I’ll be right there…”

Both men watched as your son carefully slid around Charlie’s angry, intimidating frame into Eddie’s arms who immediately picked him up and held him protectively.

“Dad, I want to go home.”

Your ex exhaled, closing his eyes as he realized his son wasn’t referring to him but the man holding him. Eddie took the opportunity, turning around and heading out the front door with his son in his embrace.

#################

You were pacing in the living room as Steve spoke with Chief Hopper in the kitchen. As soon as the front door swung open, Dylan ran through searching for you. 

He tackled your body and you picked him up into your arms, not caring that he was much heavier and harder to lift now that he was older. 

“Are you ok?! Where were you?! What happened?!”

“Charlie picked him from school and took him back to his house.” 

Both you and Steve looked at Eddie, your eyes filled with more fury than they had ever seen. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” As you started to head for the door, the chief cut you off and pulled you back into the kitchen.

“Ah, no. No killing. At least hatch your plan when a police officer isn’t here. What…what do you want to do now, Y/N? Do you want us to go get him and bring him in?”

You glanced at Dylan who was still hugging your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair. You looked over at Eddie, who’s arms were folded as his concerned eyes kept scanning over your son. 

“We never had a mom who cared about us the way you do with your son…”

“Yeah…let’s, um, let’s do that.”

#################

“Hey, princess.” Eddie slid down next to you on the steps leading into the backyard, lighting a cigarette before offering you one that you gladly accept. “What’s running through your mind, baby?”

“Was he scared? When you picked Dylan up, did he seem terrified?”

“I wouldn’t say scared. Confused. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t call you and tell you where he was.”

“I’m glad he was able to reach you…”

Eddie blows a cloud of smoke from his lips as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Hey. He’s ok. He’s a smart kid and knew exactly what to do. You did the right thing to by telling Hop to arrest him. This wasn’t ok, sweetheart. He needs to understand that he can’t do things like this.”

“I didn’t want this for my son. I… I don’t want him to go through what you went through.”

Eddie took the cigarette out of your hand, squishing it with his in the ashtray, and promptly tugged you into his chest as he held you to him. 

“Y/N, he won’t. He has so many people that love him and are there for him including the man that was there for me. He’s going to be alright, baby.” You pulled back and gently kissed his lips. “I think it’s worth noting… Vivian is on his side to. She’s the one who let me in and said she tried to talk Charlie into bringing Dylan back to you.”

You nod as you wipe your eyes and head back into the house. Steve was on the floor scrolling through his phone as Dylan laid next to Aurora as she played. As you sat next to him, Steve flashed you his phone showing you text messages from Hopper. He had arrested Charlie, processed him, and whenever you, Eddie, and Dylan were ready to come down and fill out some forms. 

You leaned against the man’s shoulder as he kissed your forehead. 

“Eddie? Steve?”, Dylan called their names without looking in their direction as he reached out to tickle his sister who cooed. 

“Sup, little man.”

“Can I call you dad now like Ro will? All the time?” He was still looking away from them, almost as if he was afraid of their answer.

“Of course, kid.”, Eddie smiled.

“Of course. As long as you’re comfortable.”, Steve follows.

“Cool… and you’ll call me your son?”

“We already do.”

His little face finally looked up to meet the three of yours, grinning. As he began to stand to head upstairs, Steve reached for his shirt and pulled him back to give him a hug. Dylan let him go to hug Eddie before giving you a kiss on the cheek and running up the stairs. 

#############

You had so much trouble sleeping that night, thinking about the day’s events and everything that happened. You thought about little Eddie seeing his dad arrested and behind bars, picturing him feeling so confused and alone. You imagined that’s why he knew what to do and kicked into protective dad mode to get his son back where he knew he was safe. 

Then, you couldn’t help but think about Charlie. When you met him, you knew he had problems with his stepdad. He always told you he would never do anything to hurt Dylan or make him feel like he was unloved. Retracing the memories of your marriage, you wondered how he got from there to here. He probably felt like this was the best option to getting his son back after feeling like he was slowly slipping away. Charlie was desperate. What he went through didn’t excuse the behavior but you couldn’t help but sympathize with him. 

Your hand reached out caress Eddie’s cheek when you saw him sigh in his sleep. Scooting closer to him, you pressed your forehead to his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His palm slid down your lower back, pulling your hips to his as you wrapped your leg around his waist. 

You marveled at the impulse; the fact that for him that was an automatic reaction as he still slept soundly. 

“Eddie?” You gently pecked at his lips as you whispered his name. “Eddie.” 

He softly exhaled before slowly reciprocating your kisses. “Hm… what’s going on, babe?”, he grumbled in a sleepy tone. 

“Nothing. I just…can you make love to me?” 

Without hesitation, Eddie rolled you on to your back, kissing your cheek and neck, down your body until his head disappeared under the covers. On the other side of you, you felt a warm chest press against your side as Steve’s hand grazed your stomach. His eyes were still closed as his breath warmed your ear. 

“Do you just need Eddie, honey?”

You moaned when you felt the metalhead’s tongue play with your clit. “Please…I always need you both. Fuck.”

One of your hands reached down to rub the bulge in Steve’s boxers as your other pressed Eddie closer to you. Steve’s own palm ran over your smooth skin and along your breasts as he delicately kissed your neck. 

Eddie always had a way of knowing what you needed when it came his lips between your legs. His mouth and tongue devoured you in all the right ways until you felt your legs shake and you came, him licking you clean before tenderly kissing your thighs.

After gradually climbing back up your body, you opened your legs and wrapped them around his waist as he guided himself into your entrance. You both moaned as his head fell into the nook of your neck, thrusting his hips at a steady pace as your fingers tangled in his hair. 

“Thank you, Eddie. Mmm—not just for today but—mmm—for everything. I love you both so much.”

The metalhead’s movements stopped as he lifted his head to look down at your face, his eyes much more coherent. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing—”

“No, not nothing.”

Your eyes turn towards Steve who also seems more awake as he waits for your answer. 

“You don’t talk about your life in detail before Wayne. I understand that and you know I would never push you.” Your palm reaches up to caress his cheek. “I just…after today and everything you did for him…I keep picturing little Eddie being alone and scared…”

Eddie gently smiles as he begins thrusting into you again, leaning down to kiss your lips. “Sweetheart, little Edward Munson went through some shit. That’s why you four —mmm—are safe with me. I get it and like—mmm—Steve said Aurora and Dylan are going to have a better life.”

You whimper as he pumps into you faster, hitting those spots that make your toes curl. “I love you, baby. Cum for me, princess.”

As his forehead falls on yours, you pant soft moans against his lips as you cum, your pussy clinging to him as he follows after, spilling his seed inside you. 

While Eddie places tiny pecks down your neck, you glance at Steve as he curls into his frame, stroking his cock as he cums. 

“Steve…I could have—”

“No. You and Eddie needed this. I’m fine, baby, trust me.” He rises from the bed, heading for the bathroom to get a rag as Eddie pulls himself out of you and rolls to his side. 

“Unlike my dad, Y/N, I genuinely believe… Charlie wasn’t being malicious. I think he felt trapped. It’s no excuse though. For Dylan’s sake, hopefully, he’ll really shape up now.”

Steve returned quickly taking care of you before bouncing back into bed and pressing himself to your side. A breathy laugh escapes his chest as the baby monitor lights up, Aurora’s gentle cries filling the room. 

“I got her. You two try and get some more sleep. You have an interesting day ahead of you.”

############

Eddie sat with Dylan in Hopper’s office as they filled out their statements of the events that had unfolded. You had already completed yours since there wasn’t much to tell besides what your court order states and the panic you felt when you went to pick up your son and he wasn’t there. 

As you sat just outside waiting for them, a tiny figure took a seat beside you on the bench you were sitting at. Vivian’s sympathetic eyes met yours as she turned to give you here full attention. 

“I’m sorry for what he did. I had no idea he was even planning to do that. When he came home with Dylan, I thought…I thought you had said it was okay. But then he asked to call you and Charlie said no and…”, she exhales as she tries to form her next words. “I know… you hate me and you have every right to but I hope you know that I love your son very much. I want Charlie to be in his life but he needs to do this the right way and this”, Vivian gestures absently around the police station. “This wasn’t it.”

You nod as she speaks, absorbing her words. It comforted you to know that she cared for your son that way and should he ever go back to that house in the future she had his best interest at heart. Just like with Eddie and Steve, Dylan was safe with her. 

“I don’t hate you. Not anymore anyway.” You flash he a tiny smile. “I hate that—”

“No, no, Y/N. You don’t have to… I get it.”, she cut you off. 

“Hey, Vivi.”, Dylan grinned as he walked over to give her a hug. 

“Everything ok?”, Eddie asked.

“Yeah. We were just talking.” You smile reassuringly as you rise to your feet. 

“You made the payment, Vivian?” She nods at Hopper’s question. “Alright, let me make a quick call and they’ll bring him down here. Y/N, I’ll finish typing all this up and send it to you later to get to Lidia.”

It’s your turn to look at Vivian with sympathy as she shrugs. “My father owns that hardware store in town. He took out another mortgage so we could bail him out.”

Eddie sat beside her and without warning yanked her into his arms. Dylan watched them with wide eyes trying to understand. You on the other hand, understood exactly what was happening and the metalhead affirmed it as he pulled away.

“My mother did this dance a lot. So many times in fact that we lost our house and she lost her job. Make sure he understands, Vivian, you’re only going to do it once.” ################ @adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @luna-munson83

@notasimp4joey @manda-panda-monium @decadentwombatmiracle

@katie-tibo @marsupiooo @local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics

@lunatictardis @adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair

@actuallyspencerreid @moviefreak1205

@waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog @kik51199

@strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie @k-k0129

@micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri @sashaphantomhive

@chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes @munsonzzgf

[sleepsart]

Those are his pets, Berry, Muddy, Frank, and Grandmaster Faeces Finder Extraordinaire 3261

[ ID: A drawing of Joel from the chest up, crouched next to two dogs, a cat, and a donkey. He has a closed eyed neutral expression, and has one arm around the dogs and the other up by the donkey. He's wearing a tunic and a vest. One of the dogs has a calm expression, while the other is seemingly mid-bark and very excited looking. The donkey is asleep, and the cat is on a ledge behind Joel, glaring at him. End ID ]

Tag list: @luna-spacedoodles @convexers @renchanters @cuuno @grey-nova @chimbamuerto @gardenergulfie @oakskull @im-troublesome @griancraft @bellemyers @solardashpraxus

[labrxnth]

BoC Chapter 2: Distant Beaches (Leon x Reader Series)

In flower language, a cornflower means "Be careful with me, please, I'm delicate"

Tag List:

WC: 3261

CWs: some heinous forced father figure shit, human experimentation, PTSD, kidnapping, cannon level body horror, cannon level swearing and violence, body comparison.

AN: I chose to go with Leon's original backstory because fuck you. Also I'm in love with the idea of him being hungover during RE2. It makes everything so much worse lmao.

If you want to be on the tag list, comment and it'll be done.

Spotify Link: Listen along to the playlist I've curated for this fanfic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

“So this is what you’re up to?” You asked, your eyes on the booklet in his hand. 

The dark, sinister hallway that had your stomach in knots wasn’t easy to look at. Walls covered in water staining and blood echoed like a chamber. The floors were covered in mystery liquid, one you weren’t gonna ask about. The notebook in Leon’s hand was easier to look at, the question was to get the uneasiness out of your head. 

“Yeah,” Leon answered, his eyes flickering between the book and forward, as if waiting for something to jump out at the two of you. The hallway was dimly lit from his flashlight, adding to his growing suspense. 

Looking at him, you could tell the signs of someone in denial and trying to juggle multiple things at once.

“Do you want me to keep track of the booklet?” You asked. You had been brought up to help people, engineered to do the exact same thing. Over the past 9 years, you were told how helpful you were, how good you were. 

“I can’t ask you to do that, you focus on that ankle,” Leon said and pocketed the notebook. You made sure to take note of where he put the small booklet. His right back pocket.

One question you had on your mind since venturing out from the room you met in was at the forefront, begging to be asked. 

“Is this what the world looks like now?” You asked, your eyes on the ceiling, seeing the different stains and wiring showing, sparking. You remembered the neon, the smell of hairspray, not this. 

“I guess. I don’t know what’s going on here, but my only guess is that it’s only here that’s affected. At least in Denver it’s not like this,” He replied. He stopped walking and shook his head a little bit, then continued to walk. “At least when I left, it wasn’t like this,” He added. 

Denver, you remembered that name. It was the capital of a state, unfortunately you couldn’t remember which one. Trying to remember social studies from 9 years ago was like trying to remember a piece of information so deep in your mind that it wouldn't budge. 

You were trying to figure out how to ask for more information without revealing too much, but the sound of your foot slipping caught your attention. 

Hands were suddenly on your arms, making you sturdy and upright again. Leon’s face was inches from yours as the flashlight illuminated a random wall from him grabbing you. 

“Careful, can’t have you spraining that other ankle,” He said, looking over you to make sure you were okay. 

You were miles away, the sudden touch, or rather grab, was all too familiar to you. Leon meant it in goodwill, but you were used to people jostling you around, moving you at their own will and want. In place of Leon, you saw David, his eyes leering down at you. 

“Be a good girl for me, Thirteen,” He said, a snarl on his face as a syringe was in his hand. He held you with one arm, forcing you to stay still as the large needle with your usual sleeping medication got closer to you. 

You had to get out, you had to break free, don’t let the needle touch you, get out from his grip, don’t touch me-

“Hey, you okay?” You were brought back to reality by another voice, one that was starting to be familiar. As you blinked, the white walls and floors melted back to the dark blue and hazy green atmosphere of the place you were in. 

Leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you with concern. His blue eyes searched you over, checking you for any sign of hurt. 

“Y-yeah,” You managed to say, your voice cracking. “Just startled is all…” Your heart sped up as adrenaline entered your body. Lying didn’t come easily to you, it never did. You were hoping that Leon didn’t catch the unevenness of your tone and how clammy your hands had gotten. 

He seemed to believe you, or at least think it would be too much to call you out on the lie. Leon nodded and let go of you, turning back to facing forward. “Watch your step, there’s blood and worse everywhere,” He said and continued walking. 

“...Blood?” You asked, finally looking down at what you had slipped on. Sure enough, painting the tiled floor was thick streams of crimson red. Your eyes widened as you saw the blood now on your bare feet. Vomit threatened to come up and you started slightly shaking. 

You weren’t used to seeing blood. Everything in the Umbrella lab was clean, you never saw blood there. 

Leon turned to look at you, as if sensing you stopping. The flashlight turned to you and he took in your expression. 

“We gotta keep moving, there’s a locker room up ahead, we can find you some better clothes and some shoes there,” He said.

“Why is there…” You said, trailing off. 

To Leon’s credit, he picked up on what was happening quickly. He walked back to you and held out a hand to you. 

Your eyes focused on his hand, then flicked up to his eyes, seeing compassion in them. 

“The quicker we move, the quicker we can get out of here,” He said softly. 

You nodded and reached out to his hand. You remembered something like this, this was normal, people held hands all the time. Flashes of memories of your parents, your friends, and you holding hands. Whether it was during a game, or leading you through something, it was normal. This was a normal thing.

Leon’s hand softly grabbed yours, lacing your fingers together. The familiarity of soft human contact, a touch not expecting anything in return was enough to bring you back. Before all of this. 

Looking up to Leon, he wasn’t Leon anymore. A middle aged man with black hair and blue eyes stood in front of you. He was two times your size, tall and wide. He smelled of the Ocean. His eyes looked at you lovingly and his smile had a chipped tooth from eating ice. 

Dad. My dad. 

“Come on sunshine, I got you,” He said and held your hand, walking you to a stall that was so much taller than you. 

The smell of high tide filled your nose and the squawk of seagulls could be heard all around you. Looking down, you saw the usual dark brown wooden planks that were waterlogged. You remembered this place. 

The beach. 

Your dad crouched down to your height and pointed at the stall, then the worker. “Tell the nice ice cream man what flavor you want,” He said, smiling at you. You could feel the hand patting your back, encouraging you to speak. 

This was what an actual father was supposed to be. This is what you had been ripped from, forced to forget. 

Your dad looked at you. “____, tell him. I know you can do it, honey,” He said softly. What was supposed to be your name was static, even your memories couldn’t remember your old identity. Who you were born to be. 

Suddenly, his expression changed and he stood back up. “_____, I have to take care of something. I’m gonna leave you alone for a bit, but I’ll be back,” He said. 

“Joan, I’m gonna leave you alone for a bit, but I’ll be back,” Leon said, his voice bringing you back to your present again. That’s twice today, that was a new record. 

You were so used to surviving in Umbrella that you didn't have the luxury of memories. That, and the memory serum they pumped in you did its job in suppressing them. 

“Okay,” You said and nodded, barely processing what he said. The two of you were in a small outlet of a hallway, Leon looking around the corner. Your hands were still entangled in each other, the warmth spreading up your arm. 

“Give me two minutes and I’ll be back,” He said, looking back at you. 

“What if you’re not?” You asked nervously. Having a backup was something you had learned to have over the many years of failing escape. 

“I’ll be back, I’m not leaving you alone in here,” Leon said, getting a little closer to you. “Don’t worry, I’ve fought these things before, I know how to kill them,” He added. 

Your eyes widened at his words. 

Things…. 

Kill? 

“What?” You asked, your mind reeling trying to figure out what he meant. 

Leon looked at you, confused for a second, then he realized something. “You have no clue about the outbreak,” He said. It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. Stating it. 

“Outbreak?” You said. You remembered David’s words from when you left the facility, "Birkin messed with something." You had a sense that whatever was going on, this Birkin was responsible. 

Leon looked at the floor, trying to figure out how to explain it. “So, we’re currently in the middle of a zombie outbreak. I don’t know why and I don’t know what causes it, but the dead aren’t actually dead,” He said, looking at you. His eyes looked at you like he expected you to freak out. 

“O…kay?” You said, not really getting as hung up on it as Leon expected you to. For the past nine years you were surrounded by scientists who fucked around with human biology, you weren’t really surprised that the dead could come back to life. 

“You’re taking this way better than I guessed you would,” Leon said. He let go of your hand to cross his arms. His eyes looked at you, a hint of untrust in them. 

“I grew up around biologists,” You offered as an explanation. He took it as the truth, out of convenience. 

“When we make it out of here, I’m never touching another bottle of alcohol ever again,” He grumbled and checked the gun he was holding. “Two minutes,” He said and nodded to you. 

You nodded in agreement and watched him go around the corner. After a few seconds, you heard gunshots and a yelp, then bodies hitting the floor. 

Soon enough, the ashy blonde hair of your new companion came around the corner and he looked at you. “It’s clear,” He said. 

You nodded and went to walk, but instead his hand reached out to you again. As if missing the feeling of the warmth between the two of you, you took it almost immediately. 

“Hold on,” Leon said, not moving. He got closer to you and his eyes met you. As he got closer, you could see the blood spurts on his face, making you flinch a bit. 

“I need you to close your eyes, okay?” He asked. 

“Uh okay,” You said quietly and squeezed your eyes shut. For some reason, you knew you could trust him. Maybe he was the only person you thought you could trust. That idea scared you, the idea of trust was one you weren’t used to anymore. 

Leon guided you through the hallway, lightly pulling your hand forward. Looking back, he noticed how awkward and slowly you moved through the hallway even with his guidance. He walked back to you and went to put his other arm around your back. 

“Is it okay if I help you?” He asked gently. You nodded in reply and felt his hand on your higher back. Instead of the dread you assumed the touch would bring, it brought peace and assurance. 

After a few minutes of walking, you heard a door open after the warmth of Leon’s hand disappeared. Then, you walked through a doorway onto a different feeling floor. 

“You can open your eyes,” Leon said. 

You opened your eyes to the sight of a dimly lit locker room. You watched Leon put something into a terminal and he pressed a few buttons, running to get a newly opened locker. 

“There are uniforms and shoes in that locker, if they fit it’ll make this easier,” He sighed as he sat down and held his head with his hands. 

If Leon had been fighting all day long, it was no wonder he was tired. Anyone would keel over at this point. 

“I picked the worst day to come in,” He grumbled. 

As your hands found the locker Leon was talking about, you noticed what he said. “So you weren’t here when this started?” You asked, wanting to gain more information about what happened, or really what Leon knew. 

“No,” He admitted as he put pouches on his hips. The pouches had the letters R.P.D. written on them.

You found a uniform that looked like it was the closest to your size and took it out of the locker. Holding it up to your body, the navy blue fabric was still too big for your frame. 

It was a size women’s small.

You knew that David and Umbrella kept you malnourished so you were more agreeable and less energetic, but holding the fabric up to your body made you see how small your frame was. It was scary. 

Getting your mind off of comparing yourself to the clothes, you decided to press Leon more. “When did you get here?” You asked. 

“Today. I thought that yesterday was one of the worst days of my life so I decided to come in today. But this is… much worse than what was going on with me,” He sighed and tightened the straps on his pouches and holsters. 

You were quiet, not really knowing if you should press into someone’s personal life. 

“I guess I should tell you, seeing as though I’m now responsible for your safety as well…” He said under his breath. “I had a pretty awful day yesterday, so I’m not the most sober person right now,” He admitted. 

You blankly stared at him, not knowing what he meant. 

“Uh….” He said sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m a little hungover right now, but don’t worry, I’ll still get us through this,” He said. 

That…still didn’t clear up what he meant. It was almost like he was speaking a foreign language from your reaction. You just stared blankly at him still. 

Moving onto other matters, you started taking off your scrubs, finally being free of the grubby, smokey fabric. As you did, you heard a yelp come from Leon. 

“Jesus! Let me know next time you do that,” He said, turning to face the wall. You could see the back of his neck and the tips of his ears were pink. 

You went about your business and finished changing. The women’s uniform came with a tanktop, the button up shirt, the pants, and the shoes. 

“A-are you done?” Leon asked, his voice slightly crackling and the pink turning deeper with the voice crack. 

“I think…” You said and looked down. You looked like a toddler trying on their parent’s work clothes. The way the fabric hung loosely would only make you slower, a liability. 

“Here,” Leon said and walked up to you. He crouched down to do something, then looked up at you. “Can I help you with this?” He asked. You nodded and his eyes looked over the uniform. 

He noticed that you had a tanktop on underneath so he got to work undoing the buttons of the shirt. “So, I told you how I got here, how’d you get here?” He asked 

You tried to think of a way to explain your situation. Even if you told the truth, would he believe you? He’d either ignore it, deny it was the truth, or worse turn you in. 

After all, you were property technically. And the longer you were gone, the longer you were technically “stolen”.

Your eyes flicked to the side and you decided to make up a story. “I was at the hospital… I had been for a while,” You said. It wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“Oh,” Leon said softly, his eyes meeting yours. They carried a sympathy that stabbed your heart for lying about being ill. 

“They were transporting me,” You said, looking at the floor. 

“And the helicopter was the one that crashed,” He said, recalling that you told him you were in the helicopter that crashed. 

“Yeah,” 

“Here, hold onto me so I can tie this easier,” He said. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, loosely, and he got to working on the clothes again. 

Leon had finished making adjustments to your uniform. He took the long sleeves on the button up and used them to tie the shirt around your waist. The pant legs were tucked into your socks and the bandages from your sprained ankle. 

“I’m no seamstress, but I did what I could,” He said. You removed your arms and offered a light smile in thanks. 

“Thanks, these feel better than what I was in,” You said. The feel of a different fabric than the same one you had been wearing for years felt odd. 

Not odd, just weird. 

“I thought as much,” He said. “I picked this up too, my girlfriend used to use them all the time. She would get upset if her hair got in the way of doing things,” He said and held up a hair elastic. 

You used hair elastics a lot, and luckily, this was the type that held your hair the strongest. 

“Thanks,” You said again and took it, putting your hair back and away from your face. This wasn’t the time to worry about looks, this was the time to worry about practicality. 

“Alright, now I feel better about bringing you along with me,” Leon said and smiled at you. “I won’t have to worry about you stepping on glass or anything,” He added. 

“Thank you,” You said again, your eyes meeting his. 

“Thank me when we get out of here,” He said and walked over to the door. “I’d give you a gun or a knife, but I don’t have anything to spare.” He looked at you sympathetically. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t even know how to use either one so it would be lost on me,” You reassured. 

His eyebrows furrowed a bit and he slightly tilted his head. “Really? Not even a knife?” He asked. 

You shook your head in reply. 

“Well then, I’ll just have to teach you when we get out of here. Or earlier if I have to,” He said and put his hand on the doorknob. “You still okay with following me around?” He asked. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Leon was the safest person you could be with right now. He knew where you were, at least more than you did, and he knew how to fight. It would stupid of you to say no. 

“Of course,” You said and nodded. “We’ll make it out of here together,” You added and lightly smiled. 

His concerned look slowly turned into a light smile and he nodded. “Yeah, we will. As long as we stay together, we’ll be okay,” He replied. 

Leon opened the door into the darkness, ready to get out of the locker room and plunge into the dark hallway. Ready to lead the two of you into whatever this hell would throw at him. He was more determined now, because he had someone that depended on him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch this fic and others on my AO3

[oneterabyteofkilobyteage]

original url http://www.geocities.com/MadisonAvenue/Boardroom/3261/ last modified 2007-11-20 11:29:37

[sexylonestar]

Sock # 3261

[kaybl]

HELLO HIHI WHO WANTS TO JOIN? Bring up all your fandoms and ships I wanna see everything